#Minseok fluff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eoieopda · 3 months ago

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triple-dog dare | lsm

“Bambi.”

The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario.

He didn’t love that analogy.

Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:

“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”

pairing: lee seokmin x reader summary: when you're left off the guest list to seokmin's parent's thirtieth anniversary party, you're content to keep your questions to yourself and stay home. seokmin, on the other hand, is not content. in fact, he pulls the one card he knows will always win. au: childhood best friends to lovers genre: fluff, angst, smut type: one-shot rating: 18+ only. minors do not have my consent to interact. wc: 13k cw: pov switches, complicated sibling dynamics (seokmin’s), there is in fact one (1) bed, halmonis gone wild, stupid childhood nicknames, fingering (v), oral sex (m receiving), multiple orgasms, implied penetrative sex (p in v). reader notes: afab, uses she/her pronouns, wears a dress/heels to the party, is implicitly an only child. the setting is intentionally ambiguous, so she's not implicitly korean and/or asian. there are no descriptions of body shape/size, complexion, etc. a/n: thank you to the incomparable @daechwitatamic for beta-ing this! it's been a long damn time since i've written anything, so this might not have seen the light of day without jo, the hype-man. on that note, i suck at summaries; just read the fic, lmao. svt masterlist. svt permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist.

For being the walking disaster that he is, there have been shockingly few moments in Lee Seokmin’s life where he’s needed to shove his oversized foot into his oversized mouth.

Prior to the incident at your apartment, the last time he’d embarrassed himself like this was when he’d asked his oldest sister, Soyeon, in earnest whether or not she was pregnant, only to learn that she was just bloated; and he’s just an ass.

To your credit, you’re far from cruel when he slips up, but that almost makes it worse. You visibly deflate when he asks his well-intentioned but ill-fated question, rather than letting him have it the way his two siblings would have done.

The day in question went like this:

He asked, “Did you reserve your room yet for the 31st? If not, we can double up. It’ll be a lot cheaper.”

And you blinked, stunned like you’d been slapped. “Have I what?”

It dawned on you both at that moment that, for whatever reason, his parents’ thirtieth anniversary party was in fact news to you. Two things then happened at once: you tried to hide your surprise and the twinge of pain that comes with being excluded; and he racked his stupid brain to find any explanation for why you had to feel either one of those things.

The best option he found was to gently toss his middle sister, Seonmi, under the metaphorical bus.

“Seonmi’s been working on something special for them. You know how she gets,” he waved dismissively. “So obsessed with finding the perfect napkins — ” He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “— and creating custom cocktails, that she misses the forest for the trees.”

You didn’t look convinced. Likewise, you didn’t look any less uncomfortable.

Fuck.

“I’m sure it was an honest mistake.” To drive his point home, he reached from his spot on your couch to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. “I have a plus-one, so it’s not like it’ll be a logistical problem. You belong there as much as we do.”

And he meant it, wholeheartedly.

All his life, the running joke has been that Soonyi and Minseok Lee have four kids: two biological daughters, a younger son, and his otherwise unrelated twin, who spent more time sleeping on his top bunk than in her own home next door.

The way he saw it — and the way he’s sure his parents would see it — is that no family gathering is complete without you. That’s a hill he’d die on if need be.

You shifted in your seat, which caused his hand to slip off your knee, whether or not you meant for it to happen. Glancing uneasily out your window, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, mumbling, “I don’t know…”

Seokmin frowned. You didn’t see it, though, and therefore weren’t moved by it. Instead, you cycled through your anxious thoughts at high velocity. If he was still touching you, he’d be worried that your sparking brain might catch him on fire.

“What if it’s not a mistake? I mean, what if it’s a couples thing?”

He couldn’t even classify these questions as rhetorical because he wasn’t meant to hear them in the first place. Though you asked out loud, each one of them was for your ears only. From his half of the couch — miles away — his frown deepened, unbeknownst to you.

“You know, Seonmi follows me on Instagram; she’d know that Kai and I broke up a few months ago. Maybe she doesn’t want me to feel awkward? Even if I went, and I didn’t feel weird about that, her expecting it to be weird might make it weird, right?”

Fuck.

You’d spiral all day if Seokmin didn’t stop you. As much as he loves how thoughtful you are, he knows better than most that you have a tendency to take it too far, inflicting that relentless consideration on yourself until it wounds.

“Bambi.”

He didn’t love that analogy.

Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:

“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”

Begrudgingly, you’d conceded, just like Seokmin hoped you would. You sat with him while he figured out travel plans to the mountain resort, helped him visualize what the hell he needed to wear to an event like this. When the time came, you sent him half the cost for the room he booked, even though he repeatedly insisted that you didn’t need to chip in.

Now, that unsolicited sum sits untouched in his Venmo balance. You sit next to him on the night train out of town.

Sit, he thinks, is a bit of an understatement. You’re barely upright, so exhausted from your work day that his shoulder and side are bearing most of your weight. His arm went from tingling to numb an hour ago, but Seokmin doesn’t mind. There isn’t a burden he wouldn’t carry for you, up to and including you yourself.

Besides, he’s not worse off for being left to his own devices. In fact, he keeps himself thoroughly entertained by taking selfies of the pair of you. The aftermath will stay securely in his camera roll — largely because you’d kill him if you saw how squishy your face is, pressed against his coat, or how your little pout trembles slightly, almost as if you’re trying to talk through your sleep — but he still finds it worth the risk. This mochi-cheeked version of you is one of his favorites.

When Seokmin has amassed enough silly photos to comprise a dossier, he tucks his phone back into his pocket with a self-satisfied smile. You’re still out cold, so you don’t stir at his subtle movements or the sound of the concession trolley rattling your way down the aisle.

The girl manning said trolley is significantly outweighed by the thing itself. She hardly looks old enough to have graduated high school, he figures, and he can’t imagine how it is that she’s working at this hour — or how she got stuck doing this job, when it takes all she’s got to maneuver the giant metal contraption through all the train cars.

“Anything, sir?” She asks politely, albeit slightly out-of-breath.

Even though she’s speaking to him, her gaze is directed squarely at his hat, leading him to believe that she may also be too shy for her job. Nonetheless, it’s been two entire hours since his dinner, and he’s on the brink of starving to death, so he coughs up a few bills in exchange for several different snacks.

She could do him the kindness of assuming his massive pile of food is for sharing, but she doesn’t. She gestures to you and whispers, “Anything for your —?”

Seokmin intercepts the question, knowing exactly where it’s headed: in the same direction as the million others like it that he’s heard over the years.

“— parole officer?” He supplies with a smile, “No, this nap is fueled by a lot of crab rangoon. She’ll be out for the duration, I fear.”

Both halves of his response seem to stun her, which means he has to cover his inevitable laugh with a fake cough.

This bit of yours will truly never get old, although the implications that prompt it did a long time ago. It was a stroke of genius on your part, dodging inaccurate references to your relationship status by offering up something too absurd to converse around.

“You two make such a cute couple,” an Uber driver once told you.

“He’s not in a relationship,” you’d politely corrected him. “He’s in witness protection. I’m duty-bound to keep him and his identity safe.”

The silence turns awkward, so Seokmin thanks the girl and gives her a smile he hopes says, “you’re allowed to run away from me now; I won’t take it personally.” She bows her head a little too eagerly, then skitters off with a grimace, like she pulled something in her neck.

Alone again with you, he wiggles gently upright in his seat so that you can rest more comfortably against his pectoral, rather than his shoulder bone. Even though you’re still asleep, Seokmin swears he hears a quiet mmpfh, as if you’re expressing gratitude. He bites his lips to keep from smiling, knowing that smiling in your proximity is one step away from laughter: the only thing you’ve never been able to sleep through.

Instead of giving into the urge, he murmurs, “You should get paid royalties whenever we use that joke. Being as smart as you are should pay off.”

Now, he knows he’s not simply hearing things because you’re just barely loud enough to overcome your own mumbling.

“Agreed,” you sigh on an exhale before slipping to sleep off again.

“Well?”

There are two beats between his first question and his next: the unfilled gap you’ve left in the conversation and the cab’s trunk shutting firmly. “‘s that cool with you?”

Seokmin stares at you, staring at him. His expression is soft, like your lack of responsiveness is something to be fond of, rather than annoyed by. It’s unexpectant, too, leaving the door wide open.

You blink. “Sorry — I — What did you say?”

Hitting him when he least expects it, you shift your suitcase from your dominant hand so you can gesture properly to the bright, poorly crocheted bucket hat flopping over his forehead. “It’s a bit hard to hear you. That hat is so loud.”

His quizzically raised eyebrows drop in an instant. Likewise, that airy smile of his flattens into a straight line.

Bullseye.

“Is it me that you hate?” He asks, tone dead serious as he points his finger towards his own chest. “Or is it the very concept of whimsy?”

You’re too busy biting back a grin to protest when, without being asked, Seokmin reaches out and takes the handle of your suitcase into his own hand, as well as the garment bag you’d draped over your arm. Before turning away to abscond with both sets of luggage in addition to his own, he shoots you an incredulous look. It dissolves entirely before his face even disappears from view.

“This is an objectively delightful hat,” he mutters, nonetheless, in furtherance of the bit.

He spots a member of hotel staff standing on the sidewalk directly outside the hotel’s double doors and pleads his case to them. “She made me this hat, you know,” he announces, gesturing back to you with a nod.

The valet’s uniform hat casts a shadow under the lamplight, but it doesn’t do enough to hide the expression on their face. It is abundantly clear — even in the dark — that they didn’t hear a single word Seokmin said before he offered up that bit of trivia, seemingly apropos of nothing. They muster up a customer-service smile that doesn’t reach their eyes and tell him it’s a wonderful hat. Meanwhile, you roll your eyes from behind because nothing either of them just said is true.

That hat is the byproduct of delusions of grandeur and innumerable skeins of color-conflicting yarn. You made it for yourself, believing that you were the kind of cute and kitschy person who could pull it off; and inconsolable weeping Christ, were you wrong. It was — no, is — your greatest fiber arts failure.

Frankenstein’s floral monster would be in a secondhand shop somewhere if you’d had any say in the matter. It isn’t because you didn’t. Seokmin “rescued” it from the “to donate” pile on your bedroom floor. Since then, he’s worn it at every — public — opportunity, season be damned.

Admittedly, he’s exactly the kind of cute and kitschy person who can pull it off, but you’ve decided out of sheer pettiness to keep that appraisal to yourself.

You take your time catching up to him, both because his long legs make it hard to keep pace; and because the room is reserved under his name. After all, he’s the welcomed guest, not the reluctant party-crasher. The receptionist is already handing him a white keycard when you finally reach the desk. Seokmin holds it up between his index and middle fingers, closed-eye grin sparkling in a matching shade of ivory.

Though the journey up to your shared room is long, the real trip is being confined to an elevator with mirrors for walls.

No matter how hard you try to avert your eyes, you manage to keep finding some new, horrible angle of your stale, post-train state. It’s torture. Three versions of you stare back with deep, dark undereye circles; and all you can think about is how dull your complexion is — especially in comparison to Seokmin, who may as well be bioluminescent with the way he glows from the inside out.

It’s joy, you know, his primary state of being and something he radiates like no other. He’s happy to be here, happy that you’re here, and happy to be happy. Whether or not he means it to be, it’s infectious. Now, you feel yourself starting to smile, too.

Despite your quiet observation, you must have missed him looking at you. Seemingly out of nowhere, he carefully sets down your belongings, raises his now-empty hand, and cups the right side of your jaw. Unaware that you’ve frozen solid, he swipes his thumb carefully over your cheek, tilting his own head to the side and frowning.

“I got you bad, huh?”

You blink.

“The zipper on my coat,” he explains, laughing. “Looks like it took a bite out of you when you used me as a pillow on the train.”

For reasons you can’t possibly explain, the only word to roll off your tongue is a sheepish, “Sorry.”

For a second, Seokmin is just as confused as you are about whether you’re needlessly apologizing to him or his coat. He chuckles quietly at how easily distracted you both are, then he gets back to the point: “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

Your response comes unnaturally quick. Your pulse does, too, when you finally make eye contact with him. After clearing your throat, you give him a half-hearted smile, ignoring whatever medical event you seem to be experiencing. “I didn’t know it was there until now.”

He hums in acknowledgment, then rescinds his hand. You watch in silence while he re-encumbers himself with your luggage and turns back to face the elevator doors, which open almost immediately.

Seokmin steps out easily, like the weight of your respective burdens doesn’t mean a thing. “I’d say this way, please, but I’ve already forgotten the room number,” he admits with a sheepish laugh. “The keycard’s in my pocket.”

You take his cue and reach into the front, right pocket of his coat for the keycard. As soon as you see the room number, you snort.

“You booked room number 218 because that’s your birthday, and then… what? You forgot your own birthday?”

“I’m deeply flawed.” He sighs, put-upon. “Now, let’s go, Bambi. It feels like you packed a week’s worth of bricks.”

There’s no time to point out that you never asked him to carry your suitcase or bag for you in the first place. Likewise, there’s no opportunity to ask exactly how many bricks is a week’s worth. He’s on the move again before you can blink, energy evident in each step regardless of how late it is.

Once again, you follow Seokmin’s lead. Despite the signage, which is clearly visible on the wall, he walks confidently in the wrong direction, prompting you to grab him gently by the elbow and steer him the opposite way. His smile doesn’t falter; he plays it off as if he was just testing how closely you’re paying attention.

It takes several turns down several additional hallways before the pair of you reach your target. When you come to room 218, you tap the keycard against the reader, causing the lock to click open. You turn the handle, push the door open into the room, and step awkwardly out of the way so your personal bellhop can get by.

“This is what I was trying to tell you when you so viciously insulted my favorite accessory.” Seokmin nods his head towards the center of the room. “All of the rooms Seonmi included in the reservation block have a king-sized bed — singular. The rooms outside the block are criminally overpriced for ski season.”

It’s far from the first time you’ve doubled up, so you shrug. “Just like old times, right? Like, when you thought your house was haunted, and you forced your way into the top bunk with me?”

“First of all,” he says as he sets both of your suitcases down and places one hand on his hip, the other pointing at you. “We were six.”

After locking the door behind you, you toe off your shoes, smirking at him from over your shoulder. “What’s your second point?”

“It was haunted —” He insists. Then his stern expression melts into something smug, the way it always does when he’s about to blatantly rewrite history. “— and you asked me to come up there because you were scared.”

A laugh slips out of you automatically, but you selflessly decide to let him have this. Crossing to him, you pat him on the bicep, patronizingly simpering all the while, “You are the brave one.”

Even though you’re both cowards, and he knows it, he pockets this little victory with a pleased hum and a grin.

Turning away from him, you make a beeline for the closet area near the door. There, you shuck off your coat and hang it up, out of the way. While you do, Seokmin passes you both your garment bag and his. From there, the pair of you work in efficient silence: you, pulling your respective formal wear from their bags and smoothing out any wrinkles; him, tucking away your extensive collection of toiletries in the bathroom.

When everything is in its place, you turn back around and notice for the first time how beautiful the room actually is. Though the shades of the floor-to-ceiling windows are almost completely drawn, the snow-covered mountains are at least partially visible through the gap in fabric. If you had the time, you’d spend all day tomorrow sitting on the forest green, velvet chaise directly in front of the window, staring at frosty peaks so massive, they feel close enough to touch.

To your right, an electric fireplace heats the room, while a portrait-framed television hovers on the wall above the mantle, flipping through famous artworks as a screensaver. In between flashes of Van Gogh’s Almond Blossoms and Klimt’s The Kiss, you catch a glimpse of Seokmin’s smile reflecting on the black screen.

Awestruck, you turn to him and sigh, “Don’t let me get used to this.”

He jerks his thumb to his right, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Don’t judge me if I steal one of the bathrobes. They’re probably more expensive than half the shit in my apartment.”

“I won’t, but they’ll bill you for it when they figure it out,” you warn him. “On that note, do you need to shower or anything before I start my skincare side quest?”

Seokmin shakes his head, causing the crocheted abomination to flop. “All yours. My hair’ll get weird if I don’t deal with it tomorrow before we head out.”

And with that mental image of his insurmountable cowlick, you quickly grab your pajamas and shuffle off towards the bathroom.

The first few seconds after you close the door are spent gawking at the insanely intricate, geometric tile pattern in the walk-in shower. Thinking of how much time it must’ve taken to lay each one of them, you set to work on your own tedious task: your ten-step regimen of cleansers, toners, serums, and moisturizers. Seokmin says otherwise, but you don’t think any of them truly make a difference. As stupid as you know it is, the routine itself is therapeutic, even if your skin is no more bouncy and glowy than it was before.

When it’s all said and done, you emerge from the bathroom to find your best friend stretched out on the half of the bed nearest the door with his eyes fixed on his phone screen. It’s the side of the room he always chooses, claiming that it’s to protect you from any intruders, but you know the truth: he’s too much of a freeze baby to sleep near the window, and he knows you like it cold.

“Feeling refreshed?” He mumbles to the best of his ability; his sweatshirt hood is pulled up and drawn so tightly that it squishes his cheeks and chin, restricting his movement.

Chuckling quietly as you go, you pad over to your half of the bed and slip under the comforter. Like a moth to a flame, the other occupant sends his last text, tosses his phone to the side, and scoots closer to you, eager to siphon whatever extra body heat he can. His head winds up on your shoulder, while your cheek rests against the top of his head.

“Before you tell me that I look it, I’d encourage you to stare long into the abyss that is my under-eye circles.”

When he laughs, it’s merely a puff of air from his nose. “You never look as tired as you feel,” he says distractedly, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “Pretty miraculous, given how little sleep you get.”

That comment warms you up so thoroughly, you wonder if he can feel it. Then, you wonder if that was the point. You intend to tease him for that, but then it dawns on you how fidgety he’s being. It’s rare for him.

“You okay, Thumper?”

It feels silly, using that nickname after so long. Your clumsiness stuck around for the ride, continuing Bambi into perpetuity; but he grew out of his companion name when he hit puberty, and his giant feet were suddenly proportional to the rest of him.

He’s certainly no bunny, nor is he a child, but the low ebb of anxiety rolling off of him reminds you of the scared little neighbor boy you used to know. It fits, even if it is silly.

At first, Seokmin begins his explanation without peeling his gaze off his restless fingers. “Apparently, Seungcheol and Mingyu are in town.” Then, his eyes slowly lift up to find you peering down at him. “They want to meet up to go snowboarding before we leave.”

Ah.

There it is: the top-secret look in his eye that only you can decipher. The one he’s been practicing for years, at your insistence, for moments like this, when he needs to be talked into something. When he needs to be brave and avoid missing out on something he’d love, solely because it freaks him out.

You respond the same way you always have; the way you once pinky-promised you always would: “I triple-dog dare you.”

He sighs deeply, neither fully resigned nor relieved, but then he nods. His head knocks slightly against your shoulder as he does. “I’ll do it.”

And that’s that; it’s settled.

Or so you think.

A beat passes in silence, until Seokmin suddenly pipes up again, “But you’re going to have to hold my hand on the chair lift, or I’ll pass out and fall to my death.”

“Deal.”

You grab his hand now in consideration of your promise and scratch affectionately at his palm. Surprisingly, his thoughts haven’t made him clammy. His skin is even softer than usual, likely due to the expensive hotel lotion he’s undoubtedly now harboring in his suitcase. Tongue firmly in cheek, you look at him sideways.

“Just — leave the hat in your suitcase, okay? The snow will be blinding enough.”

Seokmin’s been dressed and ready for at least thirty minutes, but you’re still standing exactly where you have been for the last forty-five. Face pinched, you turn this way and that in front of the mirror, smoothing fabric that’s already wrinkle-free, apparently for the hell of it.

“I’m oh-for-three.” Your exasperated sigh is punctuated by your bare, right foot stomping on the carpet. It doesn’t make the impact you likely hope it will, at least sonically. It does, however, speak volumes about how close to the ledge you are.

“All of them looked good,” he says earnestly. “I think this one is my favorite, though, if that means anything.”

Apparently, this is the wrong answer. Your wild-eyed gaze lifts from your own reflection until you’re staring him dead in the eye through the mirror.

“Why did I even pack this?” You ask, “Do you see this?”

Suddenly, you lift a manicured hand to point at your neckline, from which he’d admittedly been averting his eyes. “This is too much cleavage for a family function, isn’t it?”

As quickly as you glanced at him in the first place, you go right back to fussing with your dress, thankfully missing the way he swallows thickly.

Fuck, now he’s staring — but you’re the one that made him look in the first place — and he can feel heat rising to his ears, a dead giveaway. His sudden silence does enough to communicate his struggle. He has no idea how to respond without vaulting over the boundaries of your friendship.

Is it hot in here?

Deciding to rely on his usual tactic, he jokes his way out.

“If you think I’ll ever side against tiddie…” He forces a grimace, shaking his head gravely. “Then you really don’t know me at all.”

You laugh loudly, and whatever one-sided tension filled the room snaps like a twig. Better still, the smile you give him stays on your face while you reassess your dress. Seokmin takes it as a personal victory that you commit to his choice, rather than cycle back through your options for the second time.

While this means that you’ll both be able to hit the open bar sooner rather than later, the biggest upside is that he no longer has to keep excusing himself to the bathroom so you can change again, and again, and again.

You finish up quickly, tossing on jewelry, and then turn to him. His shoulder keeps you steady while you slip into your devilishly high heels. Seokmin pays them little mind now, however; his attention is drawn to the accessories you’ve chosen. Sure, they match perfectly with the rest of your outfit, but that’s not what strikes him. It’s the fact that everything you’ve picked was gifted to you by his parents at one point or another.

Unable to stop himself, he reaches out and gently taps on one of your dangling earrings. “Eighteenth birthday,” he muses to himself.

Then, both his gaze and his hand lower to your necklace. He skims his fingertip along the delicate, gold chain, inadvertently making you freeze up. “Christmas 2019?”

You shake your head slightly, though it barely counts as movement.

“Ah,” Seokmin corrects himself. “2020.”

Sensing that he’s somehow made you uncomfortable, he reels himself back in and clears his throat. “Shall we?” He asks, furnishing you with a bent arm to loop yours through.

You take his cue, link your arm to his, and sigh, “I suppose we shall.”

The walk to the elevator is quiet, in that neither one of you says a thing. Seokmin can hear the gears in your head turning, though, without any conversation to drown them out.

You step inside that glorified, mirrored box; and for a few minutes, he lets you work through the thing he knows ruined your sleep last night. That is, until he hears your breathing come a little quicker than usual.

“Hey.”

It was supposed to be a jumping off point. He was going to go from there and reiterate that you belong here with him. The plan was to reassure you for as long as it takes to get you to believe it, but you look up at him almost helplessly, and his Etch-a-Sketch brain is wiped clean in an instant.

The very best he can do is smile and offer a single word: “Hi.”

“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes twinkling.

Your plagued frown curves slightly back in the right direction. The creeping shroud of doom lightens, if only a little bit.

“That’ll do, pig.” You swat his arm, but he says it again, emphatically, “That’ll do.”

Halfway through you scolding him for quoting Babe at a time like this, the elevator door reopens, ready to regurgitate the pair of you out onto the ballroom level.

Unlike the lobby, which sits only one floor below, this floor looks like it was ripped straight from the pages of a fantasy novel. Everywhere he turns, there’s something new — and vaguely elven — to look at. Fairy lights hang in perfectly spaced arches from the lofted ceiling, delicately illuminating the exposed, wooden beams above. The chandeliers — plural — are crafted out of antlers of some kind, cutting between rugged and highly refined.

As stunning as it all is, Seokmin’s mind snags on a single conclusion. You’re the one who voices it, though, much to his surprise.

“This is the most Seonmi thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you whisper to him, all without taking your eyes off the extravagance in front of you. “Is this a dress rehearsal for her wedding next year?”

He bites down on his lips hard to keep his laughter to himself. Of course, you’re dead on. Nothing about this space feels like his parents, who are supposed to be the sole focus of this entire event. He already found it odd that they agreed to such a big to-do in the first place — especially when it would require their loved ones to go out of their way, literally and financially — but this is….

“Am I being petty, or is this kind of… selfish?”

Petty, no.

Psychic? Probably.

“You’re right, and you should say it.” Seokmin nods and withdraws his arm from yours so that he can drape it properly around your shoulder. “This way to the beer, please. We’ll need it.”

Merely four steps in the direction to the bar, and a screech rings out from somewhere neither of you can locate. In fact, Seokmin’s head is turned the opposite way when someone launches themself at you, damn near ripping you from his hold.

“Oh, my god! I knew you’d come!”

Soyeon’s relief in seeing you is palpable. Seokmin can practically feel his bones being crushed as she hugs you tight, swaying from side to side. He catches a glimpse of your expression, which barely peeks through the curtain of his oldest sister’s hair; you’re far happier now than you were in the elevator.

His sister kisses the side of your head. “I missed you so fucking much. I love my residency program, but I hate how far away it keeps me.”

A solid minute passes by like this. When it starts to get unbearable, Seokmin clears his throat, hoping to remind his sister that she hasn’t seen him in months, either; and he’s also standing right here.

Instead of greeting him, Soyeon shoots you a wry smile. “Who is he today? A fugitive you’re harboring?”

In tandem, the two of you appraise him with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. See, this he didn’t miss: being both of his sisters’ least favorite younger sibling.

“Oh, no, though I can see why you think that.” You shake your head, then reach out to pat his shoulder patronizingly. “If anyone asks, this is a foreign diplomat, and I’m the interpreter he can’t understand a word without. Best not say hi to him; he won’t know what you’re saying.”

Soyeon nods, though Seokmin wonders if she truly gets what you’re trying to achieve. Not quite, he realizes a moment later. Instead, she covers his chin with her hand so she can squeeze both his cheeks at once.

“He’s adorable,” she coos. “Doesn’t look old enough or mature enough for diplomacy, though.”

Seokmin rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be doctors, can we?”

Again, in tandem, all eyes on him widen with feigned shock. Between overlapping gasps of “he does understand!” and “someone’s been studying!”, he shakes off his sister’s touch and scowls.

“If you’re going to keep bullying me, can you at least do it at the bar? That way, I can numb my suffering with booze.”

At this, Soyeon drops the charade and pulls him into a hug like a vice grip. She holds him so tightly that his vision starts to get spotty. It’s not until he gently pats her back, begging for air, that she lets him go.

“I missed you too, Thumper,” she swears, prompting you to snicker.

Now, he’s annoyed for a completely different reason — one that makes even less sense to him. That nickname hasn’t bothered him in the last decade, so it shouldn’t now. Then again, the only person who’s called him Thumper since middle school is you.

The rules are different for you, if they exist at all.

“And I promise to catch up with you later, but I’ve got five thousand questions for Bambi, and the answers aren’t half as juicy with you around.”

Just like that, his plus-one is subtracted.

As much as you love Soyeon, she’s no Seokmin. With him, talking is easy; he never rushes to fill silences, doesn’t steer the conversation with a white-knuckled grip.

On the contrary, his oldest sister comes forward with a pickaxe, smashing through small talk while she mines for the wild stories she thinks she’s missed out on since moving away.

You don’t blame her, really. If you spent all your hours in a hospital, only sleeping in the lulls between other people’s trauma, you’d probably become just as intense — the human equivalent of a cracked-open fire hydrant — in the search for closeness, too.

In the thirty minutes you sit with her, you brief her on all the cliffhangers you’d left her with the last time you saw her.

Yes, you’re still stuck with your lease in the same apartment; and the old lady next door still regularly sets off the building’s fire alarm by accident.

No, you decided not to stay with Kai and haven’t spoken since the breakup; he needed more of your time and energy than you wanted to sacrifice for him.

No, Seokmin still hasn’t gone out with anyone that you know of in months. In fact, it’s been so long since either of you have touched on this topic, especially compared to how little time he and the last girl were together, that you can’t even remember her name.

Beyond that first, limited fact, you keep your mouth shut about the rest. It’s not your business to share; and it wouldn’t kill her to ask Seokmin about himself for once.

The longer you spend with her, the more frustrated you find yourself getting, although you keep this fact to yourself, too. Soyeon and Seonmi have both spent their lives fussing about Seokmin, talking about him like he’s some helpless baby, without doing much to get to know him.

That’s it.

If you were at all confident that Soyeon would take the initiative, you’d let her find all of this out on her own. She won’t, you know, but maybe it’ll sink in if she hears it from you.

“Seokmin’s doing really well, now that you mention it,” you offer, though she barely mentioned him in the first place. “He got promoted last month; he’s now lead architect on that massive commercial lot downtown. Apparently, it’s still a secret, whatever it is they’re putting there. Must be something special.”

Seokmin is something special, you all but yell inside your head.

Soyeon’s eyes brighten.

Nobody loves secrets quite like she does. You wait for the barrage, anticipating all the questions to which you’ll have to respond with “seriously, I don’t know,” but they don’t come.

Instead, she puts her drink back on its coaster, reaches out, and squeezes your wrist with her slightly chilled hand. “I’m grateful that he’s always had you, Bambi. If he didn’t, I don’t know if he’d lean in to opportunities like that.”

The look on her face tells you she means it. Maybe that’s what makes your stomach sour: that she can sit there, hearing of Seokmin’s accomplishments, and still find a way not to credit him for them.

Anger ignites inside of you. The flames lick up your esophagus, ready to explode, and you suck in a breath with every intention of letting her burn.

But then an arm slinks around your waist. Seokmin’s head bumps slightly against yours until you’re cheek to cheek.

“I hope I’m interrupting something.”

For a second, you think his slight tipsiness caused him to misspeak. Tilting your head to the side the best you can, you look at him out of the corner of your eye and catch his very subtle wink.

Soyeon opens her mouth, but Seokmin makes his wish a reality.

“Sorry, sis,” Seokmin says, entirely unapologetically. “I just found out that the band takes requests; and I’ll be goddamned if Bambi and I don’t show you clowns the meaning of dance.”

It takes no encouragement whatsoever for you to slip off your stool, get to your feet, and inch your way closer to his side. Then, like a starting gun was fired, the two of you bolt clumsily away from the bar, with you shouting “sorry!” over your shoulder as you go.

Your heels skid against the dance floor when you finally reach it, but Seokmin steadies you before you can eat shit in front of god and everyone.

“You’re way too expressive, you know that?” The fact that he’s out-of-breath doesn’t keep him from laughing. “I could’ve seen that grumpy turtle face of yours from space.”

Unintentionally, you prove his point, drawing your eyebrows together and frowning. “I do not —”

“— Also, I lied,” he interrupts yet again.

This, coupled with the everything else going on, leaves you too stunned to speak.

“This band is all trot, all the time. They don’t take requests — trust me, I tried — but if you stay here with me long enough, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Seokmin doesn’t wait for you to answer because he knows it’s a yes. He doesn’t wait for you to assume your position, either, and instead holds your left hand in his right before placing your right on his left shoulder. This close, you feel the urge to tell him how handsome he looks with his hair parted off his forehead. You don’t, however.

The music swells behind you. Seokmin leads, and you follow, swaying slowly and moving across the floor.

“Two birds?” You remember to ask, one eyebrow arched.

His right arm lifts. “Spin,” he whispers. You step under his arm, then twirl. While you’re facing the opposite direction, he continues, “There. Do you see it?”

“Oh, my god.”

You do.

The bar stool you were just occupying is now filled by Seokmin’s great-uncle, Hajoon, while his new and much younger girlfriend, Yunhee, hovers near his shoulder. Even from this distance, you can see the look of abject distress on Soyeon’s face, totally unhidden by her attempt to seem engaged.

You return to your position in front of Seokmin, your hand accidentally landing on his bicep, rather than his shoulder. Flustered by the deceptive bulk there, you immediately scoot your palm back to where it belongs.

He leans in so that only you can hear him. It doesn’t feel necessary at all, given how loud the band’s horn section is, but you don’t recoil this time.

“They had me trapped over by the appetizers,” he explains, low voice making you shiver involuntarily. “Every time he started a story with when I was your age, I wanted to point out that Yunhee hadn’t been born yet.”

You can’t help the laugh that erupts out of you and therefore can’t pull your head away from Seokmin’s ear in time to save him. Instead of wincing or complaining, he looks at you and breaks into laughter of his own as soon as your eyes meet. The effect doubles, and before you know it, both of you are teary-eyed.

“How the hell did you get away from him?”

It’s a feat you've never once managed. Uncle Hajoon’s inability to read a room is equal parts due to his horrible hearing and his tendency to never stop talking. Even if he did leave space in the conversation for you to excuse yourself, you’d never successfully get the message across.

Seokmin lifts his arm again but not for you. He takes his leave to spin himself, simpering as he goes, “That’s where Yunhee came in handy, actually. I didn’t know she had it in her, but she’s not as much of a dud as we initially thought.”

“Oh?”

“She told him that I should be able to dance with my girlfriend, and he shouldn’t keep me any longer.” He shrugs. “It didn’t seem like the time to correct her.”

All the heat in your body goes straight to your cheeks. Nonetheless, you attribute it to the dancing and choke out, “No royalties for me, then.”

“Not this time.” Seokmin shakes his head. “I said that Soyeon was trying to catch up with everyone and would love to hear his stories.”

You bite back a grin. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Maybe.” He smiles with every single one of his teeth. “But you’re free.”

“Surprisingly so. I haven’t felt the Eye of Sauron on me at all yet.” Just in case your statement serves as a jinx, you glance around the room for Seonmi. The tension you’ve been keeping in each one of your muscles slackens when, once again, your radar is blip-free.

“Dinner was supposed to start ten minutes ago. If I had to guess, she’s either leaving a scathing Yelp review or personally waterboarding the chef as we speak.”

“Both at the same time,” you counter, earning a wry smile. “She inherited your mom’s self-assuredness. If she believes she can, she will.”

After the pair of you dance through two more songs, the band breaks, and the hotel’s battalion of waiters come in, bearing domed, silver trays. Seokmin takes off in a hurry for your assigned table in the far corner of the ballroom, so famished that he barely remembers to tug you along behind him.

Through the meal and all its complimentary wine pairings, you do your best to focus on the conversation. Seokmin introduced you to the few people sitting with you that you haven’t had the occasion to meet yet. While he does what comes naturally to him, charming them with ease, you struggle for the first time to pay attention to him.

A few tables over, Seonmi sits down with her fiancé, joining the company of her parents; Soyeon and her date are there, too, leaving Seokmin out by design. Like an insane person, you can only watch her, rather than Seokmin’s blatant theft of bites from your plate. She laughs at whatever jokes her mother cracks, but you’d recognize that look of veiled angst anywhere. She isn’t happy, you realize. You can’t avoid the feeling that you’re the reason why she isn’t.

Time passes, somehow too quickly and too slowly. The plates are emptied, then cleared away by the wait staff — except for your half-empty glass, which is your third. Much like the other guests at your table, the joyful buzz you’d been feeling so far leaves, too.

All that’s left is you, Seokmin, and that ominous, storm cloud you can’t seem to shake.

“You’ll probably feel better if you talk to her.”

He’s always more observant than you give him credit for. You snap out of your zoned-out stare across the room in order to look at him. You frown. “I doubt it. She already looks pissed. Me parading my presence here despite her isn’t going to help anything.”

“Bambi,” Seokmin sighs, not impatient but gentle. “She’s not exactly warm, but she has always liked you. There’s literally no reason why she wouldn’t be happy to see you —”

You open your mouth to argue.

“— that happened over twenty years ago, and you really need to stop feeling guilty about it —”

You close your mouth, cross your arms self-consciously, and sink in your seat. Despite yourself, you glance over at him and catch the way he’s looking at you. He doesn’t need to say the words out loud for you to hear them.

It’s either the unspoken dare, his reassuring, soft-eyed smile, or all the blasted merlot that does you in. You’re not sure which of the three was the coup de grâce, and as you slink off towards her table, you realize it doesn’t matter. For one reason or another, you’ve decided that fear isn’t going to get the better of you this time.

Seonmi somehow senses you coming. Even without the band underscoring your movement, your timid steps across the mahogany parquet should’ve been impossible for anyone to pick up on.

Must be an older sister thing, you think, being doomed to keep a perpetual eye on others.

She doesn’t say anything when you slip into the chair next to her, which doesn’t bode well but isn’t a deal breaker, in and of itself. The important thing is that she doesn’t get up to leave. You tell yourself that this is a good sign. The knot in your stomach begs to differ, however.

Say something.

Say anything.

“Everything’s… lovely, Seonmi, seriously.” You gesture around you, smiling, but she only gives you a cursory look. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this one.”

Seonmi takes a sip of her cocktail — something bitter, the petty voice in your head assumes — and lets the corner of her mouth rise slightly. If it’s the closest thing you’ll get to a smile, you’ll take it. She hasn’t granted you a proper one in the decades since you got gum in her favorite Barbie’s hair.

“Thanks, kid,” she sighs, setting the drink back down on her personalized, cardboard coaster.

You can’t remember the last time she called you “Bambi”, let alone your real name. Just like Seokmin, you’ve always been a child to her. Apparently, you always will be, no matter what you do.

Her grip around the glass remains rigid, not unlike her overall posture. Condensation weeps under and around her manicured fingers, uninhibited. You watch those droplets soak through the coaster’s design, darkening her parents’ initials and wedding date, while you mull over whose turn it is to talk.

Ultimately, as is usually the case, Seonmi makes this decision for you. Without so much as a glance at you out of the corner of her eye, she muses, “It was a lot of work, getting all the details ironed out.”

You pick up on the subtext immediately. One of those details would’ve been the guest list; another, the invitations. Seokmin assumed it was all an accident and said as much to you no fewer than a hundred times, but this little comment from his sister blows his assurances to smithereens.

Your exclusion wasn’t an accident at all.

Suddenly, somehow, the room is twenty degrees colder. You shoot a panicked glance over to where Seokmin was just sitting, wanting nothing more than to slink back to his warmth with your tail between your legs; but he’s not where you left him. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found.

Fuck.

“Ah,” is the best you can do.

And then the two of you sit awkwardly in silence while the seconds age in dog years.

You should’ve brought a drink over with you so you’d have something to do with your hands. Or your phone — except you left it on its charger, you idiot — or a time machine, so you can revoke your bullshit decision to walk over here in the first —

“He deserves that, don’t you think?”

The combined suddenness of her voice and the switch in topics makes you jolt ever so slightly. You try to pass it off, to pretend that you’re simply adjusting the skirt of your dress, but your efforts go unnoticed. Seonmi is too busy pointing casually ahead, drawing your focus to the center of the dance floor.

Like absolutely no one else is watching, Mr. Lee twirls around his laughing wife, his heart-shaped smile beaming so brightly that it almost hurts your eyes. The love of his life has to hold one of her hands over her mouth to keep her laughter from bursting out; the other hand is raised with the rest of that arm, allowing her husband to spin himself underneath. When he’s halfway through, she surprises him, drops her arm down, and embraces him fully, giggling all the while.

It almost makes you tear up — Mr. Lee’s unabashed, silly love, and how much it reminds you of his spitting-image of a son; the way Seokmin’s mother’s eyes sparkle in the same blissful, radiant way his do. Maybe the same can’t be said for his older sisters, but it’s abundantly clear where Seokmin came from. It’s even clearer where he should end up.

“Yes,” you breathe, and it almost sounds like a laugh because of course, he does. Before you can stop yourself, you ask, “Is that really a question?”

No, you realize too late, it’s bait.

Without batting an eye, she counters, “Is it really so hard for you to let him have that?”

Seonmi turns her head to look you dead in the eye. Confusingly, despite her words, there’s nothing in her tone or gaze that reads like malice. If anything, the slight furrow of her brow shouts concern.

Your mind is spinning too fast to keep up with. Whatever her next move is, you’re too dizzy now to see it coming and too disoriented to follow it. With the knot in your stomach tightening further, you stammer, “Is — what?”

“God,” Seonmi drops her face into her hands. “You don’t get it, do you?”

A fish on dry land, all you seem to know how to do is open and close your mouth. You may not be literally flailing, but with the state your mind is in, you may as well start.

“Seokmin loves love.”

She says each of these words slowly, like she’s trying to hammer each nail through a thick skull.

“It’s the one thing he’s wanted most since he was a kid, yet I can count on one hand the number of short-term relationships he’s been in. He doesn’t ever bring anyone home to meet us; he doesn’t bring anyone to weddings, or parties, or holidays; he just brings you.”

Of course, you’ve been right there through all of his situationships. He’s always scant on details when they end — and you’ve never pressed for any — but you know better than anyone that nothing has stuck long-term.

You’ve never thought about how odd this really is, but with Seonmi spelling it out for you now, you can’t come up with a single, good reason why someone as objectively incredible as Seokmin can’t make these things work — or why, even as you rack your brain, the only constant you can find in his life is you.

She glares now, as if she’s daring you to speak; as if you’ve got anything she’d deem worth adding. The bulldozer revs up again, whether you’re ready or not: “You’ve always been the only person he saves space for, whether or not there’s a place for you, and he has no room left in his life for someone to love him like that —”

Seonmi points again to her parents, who are circling slowly on the dance floor, talking softly to one another.

“So, what is it? Do you truly not see what he’s missing, or are you choosing not to because you like his attention?”

Your eyes burn with tears, but you can’t let them fall, and you can’t wrap your head around why that is.

Who are you hiding them from: Seonmi or yourself?

The longer she stares at you, the muddier it gets. You don’t want her to be right. You don’t want to be the kind of person she’s describing; but there’s something awful whispering in the back of your mind, saying that you might be.

You’ve left every relationship you’ve been in, telling everyone who asks in the aftermath that you like being on your own better. But that’s bullshit. It’s not your own company that you keep when you’re single; it Seokmin’s.

He makes sure that you never spend a day feeling alone, that he’s always available over the phone in the rare times he’s not physically with you. As his best friend, he treats you better than every single one of your exes ever has. Like you’re worth more than anyone else will credit you.

What kind of friend are you if you feel relieved whenever his relationships expire?

Seonmi’s hand drops, landing half-heartedly clenched on the tabletop. Just the same, her voice drops until it’s almost a whisper.

“I am begging you,” she pleads, eyes narrowing desperately as they search yours. “If you don’t want him, someone else will. Please just — get the hell out of their way.”

By the time you reach the elevator, all you’re left with is a blur. You’ve already forgotten how the conversation ended, or which one of you was the first to get up. If she said anything else to you, it was drowned out by your own hammering pulse and a looping chorus of voices validating your biggest fear, stating in no uncertain terms that you don’t belong.

You’re shaking when you reach your floor. Heels clicking under unsteady footsteps, you make for room 218; and as you go, you shove your hand into the well-concealed pocket of your dress for the keycard Seokmin forgot to grab himself on the way out earlier.

He’s certainly not in the room when you finally step inside, although you have no clue where he’s gone. It’s for the best. The door closes behind you, and with no one to see it happen, you burst into tears.

All rational thought flies out the window, shaken off by the tornado of utter confusion tearing through your brain. You grab your suitcase, needing nothing more than to be anywhere else, and begin haphazardly throwing your things back inside of it.

Why did you still come with him, knowing it wouldn’t end well? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told him no; he would’ve listened if you truly meant it.

If you didn’t mean it when you initially tried to squirrel your way out of this, why not? Was it just your friend asking sincerely that won you over without a fight; or was it because you knew, deep down, it’d hurt to see him bring someone else?

Why would it hurt?

The answer to that will crack the foundation of everything the two of you have built, but only if you admit it to yourself. It can’t threaten you if you don’t say it out loud, don’t make it real.

So, you won’t.

You’ll bury it deeply enough to forget about, repour the concrete, and tiptoe through the rest of your life with your best friend still at your side.

That is, if your friendship survives the weekend — rather, your sudden departure from it — at all.

“Halmoni, it’s time to go back to your hotel, okay?”

He coos this, as if he’s pleading with a toddler at bedtime, because that’s exactly what it feels like to wrangle the drunk, 80-year-old clinging to his arm.

Physically, she needs to hold onto Seokmin to keep herself steady. Mentally, she’s ready to run and has made several attempts to do just that when she thinks his guard is down. It’s no wonder the hotel staff cornered him and begged him for help; she’s too wily for those who don’t know her.

The manager had at least done him the courtesy of hailing a cab. It sits out front, warm and waiting, while he shepherds his grandmother through the lobby.

“— and another thing!” She slurs.

There is never not another thing. She shouldn’t bother concluding her sentences in the first place; she’s never done talking.

“I told your sister — I said, Sunny —”

Seonmi, he dares to presume, although he doesn’t dare to correct her.

“— you can’t have stuff like this —” She gestures animatedly, albeit vaguely around her. “— in places like this and expect retirees to pay for it! I said — oh, what did I say? — Ah, I said, ‘find me the cheapest motel in the area, or I’ll be staying in your room with you’ —”

Her kitten heels hit the brick outside with an angry thwump.

Seokmin can’t help himself. “She didn’t go for that?”

“No!” His grandmother squawks.

The driver sees the ball of a woman wobbling his way and quickly exits the cab, skirts around it, and flings the back door open for her.

“I can’t imagine why, halmoni,” he lies through his teeth, which shine down on her in his best, least sincere smile. “You’re a blast in a glass.”

She roars with laughter, even while two grown adults work together to pour her into the backseat without bumping her head on the doorframe. “Glast in a blass!”

“Exactly. Can you —?”

He gives up before he finishes voicing his request; it’s no use. Instead, he bends down to hug her and finagles the buckle of her seatbelt while she’s too distracted to fight him off. That click is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, after the clunk of the door shutting her in.

By the time Seokmin turns to the cab driver, his grandmother is fully slumped in her seat, pilled peacoat rising and falling with every wine-laced breath.

“I am so sorry.” He sighs, which devolves into a sheepish laugh, and fishes all of the cash out of his pocket. No tip could possibly cover the emotional toll of this ordeal, so he does his best and gives the driver everything he has.

The driver’s eyes widen. Seokmin gets the impression that he doesn’t quite understand the task he’s undertaking.

Poor bastard.

Seokmin continues, “My grandfather is at the inn already; he didn’t feel well enough to come here, but he’ll be ready to get her inside once you drop her off.”

“Sounds easy enough.” The driver smiles and holds out his hand to shake.

Seokmin reciprocates, and he declines to explain just how wrong that assessment is. He thanks the man and chirps a quick goodbye to his grandmother before rushing back inside.

Walking into the ballroom, he hopes to find you and Seonmi laughing about whatever misunderstanding had gotten in your way before. At the very least, he expects you to still be sitting next to each other at the same table. That would be good enough, he thinks; he could assist in repairing the situation from there.

The problem, it seems, is beyond his help. Neither one of you occupies the same table. If his quick scan tells him anything, you’re not even in the same room.

No matter which way he turns, he can’t spot you. His sister, on the other hand, is near the far corner, having what looks like a nightmarish conversation with their parents. There are approximately five billion things Seokmin would rather do than get in the middle of that, but you don’t have your phone on you, and he has no other way to find out where you went.

Above the heads of the two women, Seokmin’s father catches sight of his approach. They lock eyes; there’s something insane in his father’s gaze. The older man shakes his head, mouthing “no.”

Seokmin stops short, raises his hands with the palms up to get across his confusion, and mouths back, “Bambi?”

In response, his father extends a single finger and points upwards. He then makes a shooing motion with his hand. His wife and daughter are so engrossed in their argument that neither of them catches the pantomime or Seokmin’s quick exit, back the way he came.

On the elevator ride upstairs, Seokmin worries. The most likely explanation is that you went to find your phone so that you could find him – but you haven’t texted or called him in the time he’s been looking for you, so he supposes it isn’t likely after all.

Maybe, he thinks, the wine caught up to you. You’re not as strong a drinker as you think you are. While he walks down the hallway to room 218, he steels himself. Even though you both hate it, he’s ready to hold your hair if he walks in and finds you with your head in the toilet. That dress looks too good on you not to be expensive; he’d rather talk you out of your embarrassment tomorrow than have you shell out for dry-cleaning.

You didn’t deadbolt the door behind you, which strikes him as odd. In fact, you didn’t even close it properly; it isn’t latched. All he has to do is tap on it for the door to open.

“Bambi?” He calls out before stepping inside entirely, thinking it’s only decent to confirm in advance that he’s not an intruder. “Sorry for disappearing. I had to pour my grandmother into a cab – it was exactly as awful as it sounds.”

The faint rustling sound he hears isn’t coming from the bathroom, which is both dark and unoccupied. Part of him wants to take this as a good sign, but the rest of him wonders if he’s walking in on a burglary. That flicker of fear is followed by a stupid sense of validation:

You always laugh at him when he cites this as his reason for choosing the bed closest to the door; you claim it’s statistically unlikely. Finally being able to say “I told you so” after a robbery wouldn’t make either of your belongings magically reappear, of course. That said, it might make him feel a little better.

But the figure rooting through your suitcase isn’t a bandit at all. It’s you with your coat on.

“Um,” he starts, unintentionally startling you. “What is….”

His question peters out when you look up at him. There are broken mascara tracks down your cheeks, as if you tried to wipe them off without actually looking at them. Above them, your wide eyes are wet, like you’re seconds away from crying all over again. Even worse, you’re trembling.

Seokmin’s only instinct is to reach for you. Before he can wrap his arms around you, you jerk away from him. “Please don’t.”

So, he stops, though he doesn’t understand why. This is quite literally the only time in your life that you’ve pushed him away.

“What’s going on?” Ideally, he’d project calm at a time like this. He just sounds desperate. “What happened with Seonmi?”

“She — um, she didn’t — It wasn’t that bad; I’m just… You know how sensitive I get when I drink wine.”

Like a switch flips, a half-hearted smile takes over the bottom half of your face. It’s not real; if it was, your eyes would light up and crinkle at the corners. Whatever that look is, it’s bullshit.

Seokmin gestures to your suitcase, where everything you brought with you has been unceremoniously shoved. “Sensitive enough to, what, run away? No. I’m not buying it. She said something — or did something — to make you this upset. Bambi, what happened?”

His urgency is selfish, he knows it. Seonmi’s always been way too intuitive for her own good. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking; how god-awful he is at acting platonic.

He tries — has been trying, for a long time now — to shake these feelings off because he knows you’re not emotionally available. Because he knows who he’s supposed to be for you, and how devastating it would be if he threw your friendship away.

That devastation is right in front of him now; and it’ll push you out of his life forever if he doesn’t shut it down. He has to get in front of it.

You strike first, though. “Seokmin, why didn’t you bring anyone else?”

There are two ways for him to interpret that question: with the emphasis on anyone, meaning not you; or as an escape route. For your sake, he chooses the latter.

“She gave me a plus-one, not a plus-two,” he says softly.

Despite his tone, it must hit you like a punch. You nod curtly, once. “Got it. Basic math. Thanks, Seokmin; that was never my strongest subject.”

Foot, meet mouth.

You immediately set back to work, reaching for the lid of your suitcase to close and zip. Before he thinks once, let alone twice, his hand darts out and flattens against the mesh inner pocket on the top, preventing you from doing so.

“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “Not happening.”

You don’t scowl at him the way he expects, nor do you even stop to look at him. It’s far worse than that; your eyes start swimming, focused helplessly on your suitcase.

When you speak, your voice cracks. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place. I knew that this invitation shit wasn’t an accident; I knew I wasn’t welcome to —”

“— You came anyway.” Seokmin doesn’t mean to snap at you, but the point is moot. Softening at the edges, he quickly continues, “And I’m glad that you did because I don’t want to be here with ‘anyone else’.”

It’s not the whole truth, so it may as well be a lie. You know him too well for him to get away with it; it was stupid of him to try. Your head turns, and the slight narrow of your eyes says it all.

I triple-dog dare you to tell me the truth.

This fork in the road has two dead ends. His only options are to do just that or double down and lie straight to your face, while you see straight through him. Either option pulls the pin, he figures, so it’s no longer a question of who gets hurt; it’s who gets hurt worse.

Seokmin jumps on the grenade.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else!”

It comes out too loudly, startling you. In a way, it’s angry, too. He wishes could project that anger onto Seonmi for starting shit, as usual, but the person he’s maddest at is himself for putting you both in this position.

For the first time ever, he can’t decipher the expression on your face. He’d shove his foot into his mouth to try and keep himself quiet, but his adrenaline is firing on all cylinders, and he can’t seem to stop shouting.

“And I’m really fucking sorry to say it because I know you don’t want to hear it, not from me or anyone else. So, you can leave, alright? I’m not going to stop you.”

The force of the surprise almost knocks the air out of him, so quick that Seokmin can’t process what’s happening until his back is flush to the wall behind him — until your hands, flat against his white button-up, curl to grip the fabric, and you kiss him so hard that he sees stars.

You’re surprised too, it seems. When you pull away, chest heaving, you freeze in the same way he does. Eyes searching the other’s, unsure of what to do now that twenty-plus years’ worth of boundaries have been blown to bits.

You whisper, “Are you still sorry?”

Of the five million feelings swelling inside of him — fear, kind of; joy, yes; fucked up by your blown-out pupils, definitely — regret isn’t one of them.

Actually…

He cups your face in his hands like water from a spring, drinks down the sight of you in this new and perfect light. “I’m only sorry that it took me this long to tell you,” he confesses before kissing you back twice as hard.

You’d ask Seokmin to pinch you and prove to you that you’re not dreaming, but the fear you feel at the thought of waking up is too overwhelming.

Even if it wasn’t, he can’t help you, can he?

His hands are far too busy.

Your pretty dress is long gone now, having been shucked off and tossed somewhere out of sight. In its place, it’s Seokmin’s body that now drapes over yours, warm in touch and tone, like molten gold.

His middle and marriage fingers curl inside you, working you up again; and all you can do is cling desperately to his hair, whimper, and wait for the fall.

“I take back what I said earlier,” he murmurs between nips and kisses at your neck.

You can’t ask him to elaborate. You’re too close to careening over the edge for the second time tonight; too busy babbling fucking nonsense.

His simper against your throat reverberates all the way down, lights up your every nerve in tandem like a switchboard. “Only an idiot would tell you to be less expressive.”

The pad of his thumb swirls over your clit; its movement synchronizes with his middle finger inside of you, targeting your weak spot. He presses down on that spongy patch of nerves, and your hips buck involuntarily, a hallmark of your body begging for you while your words fail.

“You were right, though.”

You summon all your concentration. “I’m always right,” you counter. Seokmin pulls his mouth away from the underside of your jaw just to look at you pointedly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

He picks up the pace of his ministrations, pulling no punches. You’re teetering on the ledge with no real ability to lift your own neck; your head crashes back against the pillow as you wail, clenching and gushing around his fingers.

“I do know how sensitive you get,” he snickers before slipping his fingers from you and sweeping down to kiss you sweetly.

The ringing in your ears has barely subsided, but you’ve decided not to take anymore of his teasing laying down. Slipping your fingers from his hair, you move your hands to his shoulders; and with whatever muscle control you still maintain, you flip him off of you, onto his back.

“How long —”

You climb over his lap and straddle him, placing your palms flat against his chest. It’s as much a show of dominance as it is a carefully disguised trick for balance.

“— have you been waiting to say that?”

Caught red handed, Seokmin shoots you that trademark, heart-shaped smile. His cheeks were already flushed from the effort he just expended on you; that perfect pink only deepens when he blushes and laughs, “What, you think I can’t come up with killer lines in the heat of the moment?”

You scratch your nails gently down the lines of his abdominal muscles. “Nope,” you purr.

Sitting up on his elbows, Seokmin tilts his head to the side and narrows his dark eyes at you. You’re nowhere near used to seeing him look at you like this, like you’re something to be devoured. The feeling of being wanted so badly makes your stomach flip.

“Give me some credit, won’t you?” He asks, voice low. “You’re a knockout; you’re naked in front of me for the first time; and it’s a miracle I can talk at all when I feel this concussed.”

When you lean in, he licks his lips expectantly. You’re close enough to kiss him, of course, but you stop a few millimeters shy of your mark and watch him fight the urge to pout. His eyes search yours, almost pleadingly.

“Is that why you’re still not naked?”

Seokmin’s next move is to reach for the black briefs he’s still got on, but you stop him, encircling each of his wrists with your hands.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut with a patronizing shake of your head. “You’re fired. I’m in control now.”

If the little sigh he lets out is any indication, he is very much on board with your self-promotion.

He takes your cue and reels himself in, allowing you to move further down his body, your fingertips hooking under his elastic waistband and tugging as you go. When his length finally springs free, you duck your head to take him into your mouth, beyond eager to feel his weight on your tongue.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, eyelids fluttering, while you swirl your tongue around his head. “Feels s-so —”

The rest of his sentence gets stuck in his throat; you take what you can of him down your own throat, working whatever remains with your hand.

Seokmin wants so badly to watch, you know he does, but he’s sensitive, too. His head tips back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open.

It’s messy, the spit dribbling down your chin and the sound brought forth by the suction of your mouth around him. The obscenity of it all spurs you on. Nothing inspires you quite like Seokmin’s breathy whines and low moans, though. Above all else, it’s his reaction to you that slicks the inside of your thighs.

You’d give him the ending he deserves, right down the back of your throat, but you feel his fingertips graze your shoulder, beckoning you to look up at him.

Voice rough, he pleads, “Come here.”

With his steadying hands on you, you move back into your original position with your bent knees on either side of him. You immediately spot the indent his teeth have left on his lower lip, which is now slightly swollen. Delicately, you brush your thumb over the mark. “Oh, you’re a goner.”

Seokmin looks at you pointedly. Though you tease, you’re even worse off: drunk on the taste of him, as much as the sight of him underneath you, wanting you just as badly.

“Alright, alright,” you concede. “I am, too.”

The hand you use to wave dismissively at him then reaches down between your thighs, fingers wrapping around his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

“But I’m taking you down with me.”

And you do.

So thoroughly that you barely recall him staggering off to the bathroom when all is said and done, the wash cloth he returns with to clean you up, or the way you slump into his waiting arms before promptly falling asleep.

You sleep so soundly, in fact, that you don’t stir when the sun blares through the open curtains. Likewise, when Seokmin carefully maneuvers himself out of the tangle of your limbs and places your head on a real pillow instead, you’re none the wiser.

What finally gets to you is the thwack of the expensive, hotel-issued shampoo clattering against the floor of the shower, echoing off the tile like a sonic boom. You sit bolt upright in bed, staring bleary-eyed in the direction of the bathroom.

As if on cue, Seokmin pokes his head out of the doorway to see if you managed to sleep through the noise. Damp hair splays over his forehead, hanging just as loosely as his lazily-knotted bathrobe. If you weren’t still too sleepy to function, you’d love nothing more than to grab him by that tie and drag him back to bed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Bambi,” he coos, though his mouth is full of both toothpaste and a toothbrush in a distinctly greener shade of blue than usual.

You merely point at his mouth with a half-powered look of distress, otherwise unable to put your suspicion into words. He doesn’t get it; he glances down at his chest, looking for what he assumes is a stray glob of paste.

When you finally do speak, it’s a prayer: “Please tell me that’s not mine.”

Seokmin blinks at you, then down his nose at the toothbrush he’s using. He cocks his head to the side, opens his mouth to assure you it isn’t, and finally, when the realization makes his eyes widen, he groans.

You wail, “Noooooo!”

Memories of your last trip together clash before your mind — specifically, attempting to navigate a drug store in a foreign language while you shopped for the replacement toothbrush Seokmin is currently holding.

Ears bright red with embarrassment, he ducks back into the bathroom. Immediately, you hear a rush of water from the tap, which nearly drowns out his feeble cry of “I’m sorry!”

“I know it’s an honest mistake, but how do you make it twice?”

You collapse back onto the pillows and bury your face in your palms; and you stay that way, even when you hear him padding softly over to you. The mattress shifts under his weight as he makes his way, one knee at a time, until you feel him looming over you. His hands reach out and gently pull yours from your face.

Before you can get any ideas, Seokmin flattens himself on top of you; a weighted blanket, smelling like vanilla and spearmint. He folds his arms across your chest and props his chin up on the top of his right wrist, bright eyes sparkling as he peers up at you.

Suddenly, you find it very difficult to be annoyed with him. The worst part is that none of this is by design. He always just looks at you this way, not to get out of trouble but because you’re you.

Your hand reaches out of its own accord and brushes the remaining damp strands off his forehead. When your touch lingers, Seokmin leans into it, warming your palm with his cheek.

“Hey,” you say, after failing to come up with anything better.

He beams. “Hi.”

“Why are we awake at this hour?”

That smile of his evaporates slowly, giving way to a grimace you’ve seen before. “Seungcheol and Mingyu want to meet up at the ski lodge before the post-brunch crowd gets there,” he explains. “And I told my parents we’d get breakfast with them first, since yesterday was… well, mostly a disaster.”

“And it will conveniently provide you with time to think of a way out of snowboarding?” You chuckle quietly and pat his cheek.

Seokmin shakes his head firmly, then stretches his neck enough to kiss you.

“No,” he mumbles defiantly against your lips. “I never back down from a triple-dog dare.”

959 notes · View notes

honeyhotteoks · 8 months ago

Text

chapter fifteen: the taste of you

chapter summary: two weeks have passed and so many things about your life have changed.

warnings: almost entirely smut, but outside of that warnings for allusions to her attack, discussion of triggers, some ptsd symptoms, and there is a moment during sex that reader is triggered but they help her through. smut including: fingering, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), absolutely dripping wet messy sex, squirting, rough blowjob, cum on reader, cum in reader lol, knotting and all things a/b/o, ass play, double penetration, some amount of m/m that surprised them all, tears during sex but not dacryphilia, lots and lots of orgasms, basically she almost passes away from cumming pls enjoy

notes: more to come, thank you all for waiting for me 🩵

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

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

word count: 17k (i’m back with a bang no pun intended)

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Someone has been stuck to your side all day. If it isn’t Yunho in the hall, it’s Mingi by the front door, San in the gym, Seonghwa getting you coffee, and Wooyoung walking you from room to room. After almost two weeks of reacclimating back to the studio and feeling more like yourself, your sudden shadows throw you for a loop.

They know something.

It isn’t until Mingi nearly walks into the bathroom with you that you spin on your heel and give him a soft push backwards to clear some space.

“What’s wrong?” He straightens up immediately.

“With me?” Your brows go high, “Nothing, I’m feeling great. I am wondering why you feel the need to come pee with me, though,”

He blushes red, “Shit,” he steps back, “sorry,”

“Is something going on?” Your eyes narrow, “I feel like I’ve been assigned a secret service detail but no one told me,”

He chews at the inside of his lip and then finally sighs, “Don’t freak out,”

“Not a great start,” You point out.

“You’re perfectly safe,” He adds, taking a step forward.

“Also not good,” Your stomach flips, “Mingi, what’s happening?”

“Minseok is getting out of the hospital today,” He says in a rush, “and I’m sure he won’t show up here, he’s not an idiot, but it would make me feel better if I knew you were with someone,”

“Oh,” You relax back against the wall.

“You’re not upset?”

“That you want to keep me safe?” You smile, “No, I’m not upset,”

“It just has us a little on edge,” He tells you honestly, “but we didn’t want to worry you with how much better you’ve been doing,”

“Who’s we?” You smile.

“Um,” He taps his phone, unlocking it and glancing down at a series of messages, “me and Yunho, obviously. Seonghwa, Woo, and San,”

You crane your neck to see the screen and laugh immediately at the name of the group chat, “y/n Protection Squad?”

“That was all Woo,” Mingi blushes again and tucks away his phone, “you know him,”

“Mhm,” You raise an eyebrow.

“We probably should have told you,” He concedes.

“Probably,” You nod, “but honestly it’s cute,”

“We just,” He trails off, “well you know,”

“Yeah,” You tap the edge of his phone, “if you’re reporting my coordinates to each other though… you could just text me. Actually, hold on,”

You pull out your own phone and scroll through the settings until you find the right thing, “There,” you smile up at him, “you and Yunho have my location now,”

His eyes widen, “Oh,”

“If you’re worried,” You shrug, “I trust you both not to abuse it.”

He flicks through his own settings, “Now you have mine,” he says, “I’m sure Yunho will do the same once we talk to him,”

“Thanks,” You smile and tuck your phone away.

He doesn’t move, he just stays steady next to you as if he’s waiting for you to say something more.

With a curt jerk of your head behind you, you say, “Okay, but I think I’m safe in the bathroom,”

“Right,” He takes a big step back, “sorry, babe,”

“Don’t be sorry,” You reach out and squeeze his arm, “I’m heading for the gym after this if you’re looking for me,”

“Cool,” He smiles, “thanks,”

“Mhm,” You start to back up through the swinging door into the bathroom, and as you do you watch him quickly tap out a text on his phone. No doubt a report that you’re heading to the gym and wondering who’s in there already.

In any other circumstance this level of hovering would bother you, but they more than mean well. Even though you know Minseok won’t pop up out of nowhere, he truly would have no rational reason to, the presence of your pack around you and the family you’ve built at the studio backing you up, it means everything for your level of comfort here.

The past two weeks have been a dream. Not every second of it, of course, especially with everything it took to reacclimate to work, but having a new home with them has been everything. In the span of a week Yunho and Mingi helped clear you out of your old apartment and break your lease, breakdown the bedrooms at their apartment to transition Mingi’s old room into a shared bedroom, and installed a pack bed that had more than enough room for you and both your alphas.

In the gym you find Wooyoung, lounging on one of the stationary bikes playing on his phone.

“Did Mingi send you?” You tease him immediately.

He grins, “Maybe,”

“You could have told me he was getting out today,” You nudge him as you pass by, sitting on your own bike.

“I know,” He pockets his phone and turns towards you on the seat, “but I didn’t want you to be anxious.”

“Fair,”

He drags a hand through his hair and sighs, “Hey, listen,” he says, “can you tell Yunho I’m not going to make it by this weekend?”

Your eyes narrow, “That depends,” you say, “are you two going to let me in on your weird little secret plans?”

Wooyoung smirks.

For the past week ever since Yunho had moved into the larger bedroom his old room was closed tight, and every few days Wooyoung was stopping by to see you but also to slip away with Yunho and work on something.

“It’s a nest, right?” You prod him, “what else would he be so secretive about?”

“Don’t ruin the surprise,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “let the man do a nice thing for his girlfriend,”

That word is new, along with other words that sum up what you are to each other. Partners, pack, lovers, mates, girlfriend, boyfriends, it’s all tangled up and happening fast but your stomach doesn’t do a nervous flip like it used to, you just feel warm.

“Traditionally, I think I’m supposed to make my own nest,” You point out.

“He knows that,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “that’s why he called me. Now my lips are sealed, stop asking.”

“Fine,”

He pulls at the front of his shirt to get some airflow and sighs, “So, you’ll tell him?”

“Oh,” You nod, remembering his original question, “sure, is something up this weekend?”

He looks at you and raises his brows, “I’m due for a heat,” he explains, “and I just started feeling achy this morning,”

“Got it,” You nod, “can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head, “No, I’m fine, I’ll probably take tomorrow off and then see where the weekend goes,”

“I’ll be around,” You let him know, “I can deliver ice cream and sexy magazines,”

“Shut up,” He smirks.

“Wait,” You smile, “what are you doing about Yeosang?”

His face falls entirely. They’ve been nearly inseparable since they met, even though you yourself still haven’t met him. But you’ve learned enough about him by proxy that you think he’s the right kind of guy for your best friend.

Wooyoung fiddles with the edge of his t-shirt, “I don’t know,”

“You’ll tell him?” You ask.

“Sure,” His voice sounds strained, “I mean… I don’t know how else to explain disappearing for three days.”

“Mhm,” You leave him the space to keep working it out.

“I really don’t think he should meet San and Hwa during,” He says, “I was planning on introducing them beforehand, but you know, that never really worked out.”

“Woo,” You get his attention, “I think you should have whoever you want for your heat, not worry about that,”

“I’m not even sure he’d want to be there,” Wooyoung blushes a bit, looking down, “we keep avoiding the topic.”

“You met like a month ago,” You point out, “not even,”

“So?”

“I’m saying it’s not weird it hasn’t come up,” You soothe him, and you can see clearly how close to his heat he is if his emotions are this on edge, “because the relationship is new.”

“Oh,” He deflates.

“You should get home,” You reach across, giving his shoulder a squeeze, “relax and figure out what you want to do, and then talk to them.”

“I know,” He sighs, “you’re right,”

Silence settles for a moment, and you consider starting up a cardio routine on the bike, but you actually want nothing less today, something’s been itching at you and taking your focus, and with the knowledge that Minseok is out it feels like now or never. With Wooyoung being down for the count next to you, any lingering motivation you would have had flies right out the window.

“Okay,” You stretch your arms and hop up, “if Coach Choi asks, I did forty-five minutes,”

Wooyoung snorts a laugh, “Fucking same,”

It’s late in the day, you should probably pack up your things anyways. The halls have quieted down, the gym relatively empty, and short of Mingi and Yunho finishing their work in the back reviewing next steps and mocking up the next schedule, you’re almost done for the day.

A flickering memory passes through you.

“Hey,” You nudge Wooyoung again, “can you please wait to report my whereabouts for like twenty minutes?”

“Why?” He counters.

You’re quiet, and you give him a look.

He knows where you’re going in a heartbeat, “You want me to come with you?”

You shake your head, “No, I want to do this alone.”

“Okay,” He murmurs, “but text me if you need,”

“I will,”

He watches you go, but you ignore the pressing eyes at your back. Now with twenty minutes of freedom, you check that the hall is empty and move quickly down the one direction you’ve hated walking these past two weeks.

You haven’t been into that particular studio room since it happened. The first day back to work was strange, full of nervous energy and people who didn’t quite want to meet your eyes without some form of uncomfortable pity, but day two was better. You made the right jokes, you smiled wide, and as long as you didn’t acknowledge that room, everything was fine. Now that two weeks have passed, it’s like this room doesn’t even exist and everyone’s adapted to that new reality without a peep.

So far you’ve passed the door eight times and each time you’ve done a damn good job of not even making eye contact with it, barely even thinking about it, not even a little bit.

But something about today is different, maybe that it’s late in the day again, the sunlight dropping in the sky and the halls quieter than they’ve been since you came back. Maybe it’s the new knowledge he’s walking around free. You don’t know exactly what pulls you right in front of the tightly shut studio door, but something deep in your gut does and you find yourself staring at the wood grain, palms slick and trembling against your thighs. It takes a few minutes to hype yourself up enough to push through the door, your stomach a churning mess of knots and images flickering in your mind, but at the count of three whispered on your lips you finally do it.

For some reason your mind expects a dark room, shattered glass, streaks of blood, and Minseok standing in the middle of it all waiting for you, that’s the last thought that rockets across your brain as you stumble over the threshold, but it’s so far and away the opposite that it takes the rug right out from under you.

The room is bright and completely normal, no glass or horror to be seen, and Choi San is seated right in the middle of the floor with one leg extended as he stretches out his muscles. It’s clear from his expression that you startled him a bit, all but falling into the room with flushed cheeks and nervous eyes, but he calms immediately.

He straightens his spine and meets your eyes in the mirror, “Hey,”

“Uh,” You pry your hand away from the door handle, “hey,”

“You alright?” His head tilts slightly as he looks at you.

“Sure,” You answer, a little too quickly, “sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,”

“Mhm,” He nods, and for a moment he’s quiet, waiting for you to say something.

“I’ll just,” You start, your foot sliding backwards so you can make a quick exit.

San just shakes his head, pushing himself up to his feet and turning towards you, “Come in,”

“Eh,” You’re ready to back out now, he just has to let you.

“y/n,” He beckons you forward with a jerk of his head, “you clearly are trying to get past this and I’m in your way, come in. I’ll let you do that,”

Your mouth is dry and it feels a little like being caught under a microscope with how accurate his assessment is.

San takes your silence as a yes and grabs his hoodie from the floor, smiling close-lipped at you as he moves to the side. Suddenly he’s no longer in the mirror in front of you, and memories start to flood back of the last time you were alone in this practice room, last time this door opened and someone appeared behind you in the reflection.

“San!” You spin on your heel, reaching to catch him before he’s truly gone.

“Hey,” He soothes you, gently passing a hand down your upper arm, “take a breath, you’re safe.”

“S-stay?” You manage it, your nails digging into his skin through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, “For a second?”

He softens, “Let me get Yunho and Mingi,”

You shake your head, “Please don’t.”

His brows knit together, “Why not?”

You swallow tightly, feeling the entire scene playing out behind you, and you could swear that if you just turned around you could see it all. Your body on the floor, your alphas above you, the flooding, rushing water in your ears of subspace.

“y/n,” San prompts you again, “why don’t you want your alphas?”

San’s thumb strokes a tender line into your skin, waiting for your answer and you exhale slowly as you center yourself, “They worry for me,”

“Mhm,” He nods, but lets you continue.

“They wanted me to take more time off,” You explain, “but I’m ready to be here,”

He waits another beat, and then lays his other hand over your tense fingers, pulling them gently away from his sleeve, “Are you?”

You swallow tightly, “Work, yes,” you tell him, “this room is hard.”

“Let’s go then,” He murmurs, tugging at your hand just a little as if to draw you out of the room, down the hall, and right back into your alphas arms, but you shake your head.

“Can you just wait a minute?” You finally ask, “Maybe what I need is a Choi San pep talk,”

He sighs heavily, his hands dropping away from you. For a second you think he’s going to leave, and then he moves around you to the center of the studio to plop right back down onto the floor, “Come on then,”

The knots release at his tone and you follow him. Your body is still full of nerves, but you’ve been in this studio a hundred other times before and right now there’s no Minseok. You’re not alone, you’re with your friend.

San smiles up at you and waves you down to the floor, “Stretch,”

“I already stretched,” You tell him as you ease yourself down next to him.

“Stretch again,” He prompts you, “it’s good for you.”

You huff a laugh through closed lips, extending the lines of your body out to mirror him and he nods in approval. It’s quiet for a little while, your bodies shifting into familiar positions one after another, moving silently in sync. San watches you in the mirror, correcting your form without saying a word, until he finally breaks the silence.

“It’s just a room,” He says, “that’s all it is now.”

Tight pinpricks of tears play at the edges of your vision but you clear your throat and nod, “I know,”

“There’s not a trace of him left,” San adds.

The words don’t quite make sense and you finally look away from him in the mirror to turn towards him, “What?”

He drops his arms out of another stretch and turns to you, “He’s gone,” he clarifies, “all his things, his scent, recordings, all of it.”

“W-who,” You start, but you know, “when did you do that?”

“That night,” He answers you with ease, “I just want you to know you won’t run into a trace of him here, not in this room, not anywhere.”

Your throat tightens.

“I can’t do much,” He explains, resting a hand on your knee, “I’m not an omega like Woo, and we’re not…” he searches for the right words but settles with a sigh, “we’re not close like you and Seonghwa, but you’re my friend and we’ve been through things together. I did what I could do for you,”

“San,” You manage, eyes swimming now, “I can’t believe you did all that,”

He gives your knee a squeeze, “It’s nothing,” he assures, “you deserve to feel safe here. You are safe here.”

You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly, “Thank you,”

He holds you gingerly, one hand pressed between your shoulder blades as he nods.

It takes you a moment to get yourself under control, emotions swirling, but finally you drop back out of the hug and sweep your fingertips under your watery eyes to clear the potential tears.

“Mingi said,” He starts, catching himself with a heavy sigh before continuing, “he said you dropped the charges?”

“Yeah,”

“Why?” He asks genuinely.

For as perceptive as San is sometimes, he’s clueless about one thing. You sigh, not sure whether you should point out the glaring Seonghwa shaped blindspot in his peripherals, “Nothing would be worth any of you getting in trouble,”

“You’re worth that,” San points out calmly, “we all did what we did for a reason, we’re not inherently violent men, y/n.”

“I know that,” You nod.

“Mm,” He shakes his head and adjusts his position on the hardwood floor, “what’s done is done, but we were all willing to take some consequences for you. You’re our friend, our teammate. You’re Yunho and Mingi’s omega too, you’re… you’re a person and what Minseok did to you was wrong.”

“I know,” You repeat, finding his hand and squeezing it tightly, “but this is what I want. I want to go back to normal with my family and be happy, it’s been too long since we’ve had that,”

He nods, giving your hand a squeeze back. You can see that there’s a protest on his tongue, an argument to be made about what’s right and wrong, but he holds himself back.

In the quiet, honesty floods forward on your tongue, “I also wasn’t going to let Seonghwa ask for a single dime from his parents again,”

San’s fingers tighten involuntarily and his head snaps to the side, “What?”

“You heard me,”

San’s jaw pulses and relaxes, and then he separates your hands, dragging his own through his mess of black hair with a heavy sigh. You let him sit with it for a moment, nothing feeling quite right to say at the moment.

He nods finally and turns his head towards you just a little, “He told you?”

“Yes,”

“And,” San starts, but any words he might have fall short, he looks to you for something more.

“He hasn’t taken money from them in a while,” You start off, and San’s eyes widen just slightly, “I wasn’t going to let him get dragged back into their shit for me,”

San swallows.

“He misses you,” You offer, “and I know you miss him too.”

He looks away again, his hands clenching tight into fists and then releasing. “y/n,” He says, “you shouldn’t get involved,”

“I’m not,” You want to reach out and take his hand, but from his body language you know it’s a bad idea, “I haven’t said anything about this in months, but I’m as much a friend to you as I am to Seonghwa, so I would never lie to you.”

He considers your words for a long beat, and then he sighs, “Was forgiving them worth it?”

“Yunho and Mingi?”

He nods.

“Yes,” You tell him unequivocally, “but Sannie, they had to forgive me too.”

He shifts on the floor, this time wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, and you let your arms fold around him in the embrace. You run one hand up and down his back, hoping it gives him some amount of comfort even if it's small.

“I do miss him,” He murmurs, “all the time,”

“I did too,” You confess, “even when I was angry,”

Footsteps behind you both send a chill through you, and you jump at the sound.

“It’s alright,” San soothes you, glancing into the mirror to see who’s come in, “it’s just your alphas,”

You break away from San’s hug to look, needing to see for yourself, but feel your body fully relax at the sight of them.

“Hey,” Yunho gives a close-lipped smile, concern clearly visible in his expression, “you guys okay?”

“Mhm,” San nods, pushing off the floor, “all good,”

Yunho and Mingi both look at you.

“San was helping me be back in here,” You tell them honestly, “but I’m okay,”

Mingi helps you to your feet with an outstretched hand and once you’re up, he cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his, “You sure?”

You nod, quietly communicating with your eyes that if there’s anything to say it should be said privately.

“I should go,” San says, grabbing his bag off the floor by the mirrors.

Pulling back you catch him before he jogs out, “Thank you, seriously,”

He nods, “You too,”

He gives a courtesy nod to Yunho and Mingi, and jogs out faster than anyone can ask any follow ups.

They’re quiet for a moment, but even just a second or two of strange silence in this room after being triggered is enough to make your skin crawl, and you reach for Yunho’s hand.

“Jagi?” He checks.

“Can we get out of here, please?”

Mingi grabs your things, “Let’s go,”

Yunho presses a warm kiss to your forehead as he turns to leave, tucking you under his arm, “Come on,”

In the hall, Mingi finds your free hand and twines your fingers together, “Okay?”

“Mostly,” You sigh now that you’re on your way out of the building and wrapped up in their comforting scents, “I think we can start having practices in there again, but maybe not all of them right away?”

Mingi’s hand pulses in yours, but Yunho speaks first, “If you’re ready for that, I’ll shift Friday afternoons back in there.”

“I’m ready,” You nod.

The three of you make your way out into the streets of Seoul, and Yunho smiles, “That way if it’s tough, at least it’s Friday and you can just come home and relax with us.”

“Smart,” Mingi comments.

Your chest warms, “That’s perfect, I love you.”

Those words have been coming more easily ever since the kitchen, but you watch the tips of Yunho’s ears go pink still, “I love you too,”

“Is San alright?” Mingi asks as you approach the car, “he seemed off,”

“He’s got some things going on, but he will be.” It’s not your place, not with something like this.

He nods, and as Yunho unlocks the car he slides into the backseat and reaches out a hand for you, “Let’s go home.”

You slide into his side, wondering a little about what San will do next. Part of you wants to smack him and tell him he’s being an idiot and he needs to get over this and there’s no sense in talking yourself out of happiness, but you didn’t listen to advice like that when you were making all the same mistakes. You have to let him come to it in his own time.

As the car pulls away you catch a message on your phone from Wooyoung.

Heading home - you good?

You tap back a fast reply - All good. Focus on your heat, and CALL YEOSANG.

Thanks Mom. - He replies.

You let your phone drop, and Mingi’s hand lands warmly on your thigh to give you a squeeze. The thought of Wooyoung going into heat is making your mind flick back to your own. His hands, this car, the way Yunho glances at you in the rearview mirror. It’s all seared into your memory from a different time.

Not only that, and you’re a little ashamed to admit it, but there’s something to be said for the way your alphas flanked you all day just to keep you safe. After ten hours of it, you’re a little addicted to the way Yunho’s hand feels on the small of your back or the weight of Mingi’s hand on your thigh. If anyone at the studio was unaware of your relationship, it’s crystal clear now. They kept close to you as if Minseok was around any corner, and you suspect their intensity was as much for them as it was for you.

They stay stuck to you until you’re all safely back in the apartment, and then suddenly with the door locked tight behind you, they fall away. Mingi stretches and yawns, dropping his coat on a hook by the door before disappearing into the kitchen to start dinner. Yunho drops a perfunctory kiss on the crown of your head and mentions that he’s going to change, and then you’re standing in the foyer by yourself.

It’s been days since you’ve felt something stirring in you, possibly even weeks. You haven’t had room to feel that pull in your gut, heat flushing your cheeks, wetness pooling in your core. You’ve been too busy and too stressed to be horny, but suddenly you’re full of wanting.

You’re not in heat, nowhere even close, but with the sudden way you need to touch them it almost feels like that.

Your cunt is throbbing.

At the sound of a pan making contact with the stovetop in the kitchen, your legs start moving.

Mingi glances to the side when he sees you enter the kitchen and he smiles, “Hey, babe,”

“Can dinner wait?” You say in a rush.

His brows draw together and he turns towards you, “What’s up?”

“I just,” You can’t help but get distracted by his muscled arms, the dip of his chest where his tank top cuts low, “maybe we should order in,”

“I thought you wanted japchae?” He nods towards the pan to his side.

You all but pounce on him when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug his lips down to meet yours, pressing the length of your body against his and panting gently against his lips, “Mingi,”

He makes a muffled sigh, his hands closing on your waist as he holds you up, his body relaxing into yours naturally, “Babe?”

“Shh,” You shake your head a little, your hand skating down his chest and over his nipple.

He shudders and you feel him responding instantly, hardening against your belly. His mouth parts, tongue dipping past your lips to flick along yours, hot breath warm and welcome against your cheek.

Your body pulses with need, and the thick perfume of your scent fills the kitchen. Mingi’s hands tighten as he inhales the rich syrupy honey and he breaks the kiss, “Baby,” he softens and finds your eyes, “when’s your heat?”

“Not now,” You shake your head and brush him off, pulling at his t-shirt again in an attempt to drag his lips to yours, “it’s not for at least another month,”

“Then what’s gotten into you?” He asks, angling away to try and get to the bottom of your sudden neediness.

You know it technically isn’t a rejection, but god it still feels like one, and you push back two steps to clear some space, “Nothing,” you sigh, “sorry,”

“Whoa, whoa,” Mingi shakes his head and catches your hand in his, “wherever your brain just went, you’re wrong,”

“If you’re not in the mood,” Embarrassment feels thick around you and you can’t quite meet his eyes.

Mingi laughs sharply and steps close again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your hair, “I have never not been in the mood with you, babe,”

You swallow tightly, nodding into his chest.

“But,” He adds, “it’s been a while since we’ve done anything, and ever since… you’ve been tense every time things get a little heated,”

“I’m sorry,” You breathe.

“Why in the world are you apologizing?” Mingi groans and separates from you so he can look at you eye to eye, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Your throat tightens. There’s a million reasons you feel sorry, but you sigh into him and lean against his warm palm, “I feel like I can’t get my shit together, it’s a lot for you both to put up with. I just want to want you, I want it to be like it was. I don’t want him here, I… I don’t know,”

Mingi listens patiently, but as you start to lose steam he nods, “Got it,” he steps forward and scoops you up into his arms, “this is more serious than I thought,”

“M-Mingi, what are you doing?” You grip his shoulders as he maneuvers you bridal style into his arms before carrying you out into the next room.

“Yunho!” Mingi calls as he heads for the hall, “Get out here,”

He doesn’t stop at Yunho’s bedroom door though, instead he pushes further down the hall to his bedroom - your bedroom. The room doesn’t quite feel like yours yet, but with the changes he’s made to the space to welcome you and Yunho into it, and the addition of the sprawling pack bed, you know it will start to feel more and more like yours everyday.

Behind Mingi you hear Yunho’s old bedroom door open and a questioning sound, but you barely hear it as Mingi stops at the foot of the bed and plops you straight down in the center of it.

“What,” You start to ask, but Mingi turns from you as Yunho follows into the room.

“What’s going on?” He asks, glancing between the two of you.

“Our girlfriend,” He smiles at the word, keeping his eyes on you while he addresses Yunho, “seems to be under the impression that she’s too much for us to put up with,”

You open your mouth to protest, but Yunho’s head snaps to yours, “What?”

“Mm,” Mingi nods, “ridiculous, I know, but she seems to think having a completely normal response to a traumatic incident is a lot for us to deal with,”

Your cheeks grow hot, “Mingi, stop,”

“I was gone for three minutes,” Yunho’s brow furrows, “what could have happened in three minutes?”

“y/n tried to jump my bones,” Mingi grins.

“You’re leaving out the part where you rejected me,” You can’t stop the words, the way he pushed you away in the kitchen still stinging.

He reaches for you then, his hand closing around your ankle to drag you down the bed so that you’re seated on the edge. You let out a small noise of surprise, but before you can work out what he’s doing, he’s dropped your foot and crouched in front of you, wide hands resting on your hips.

“Not a rejection,” He shakes his head, face far more serious, “a question.”

“What was the question?” Yunho asks, moving further into the room. He leaves you both space, but leans his hips against the dresser behind Mingi.

“I want to know what’s gotten into you,” Mingi reaches up, brushing your cheek gingerly and moving to stroke your hair, “because I want nothing more than to have you, pretty much every second of every day, but never at the expense of hurting you.”

“O-oh,” You soften a little at that.

Mingi lips turn up slightly in a smile, “You’re not too much,” he says quietly, “you’re not something for us to put up with, and you don’t have to apologize to us for anything. Yunho, back me up here,”

He takes a steady breath in, moving to crouch next to Mingi, “There’s nothing to put up with,” he says, “there’s just this thing that happened that we have to work through together and that’s not an obligation. You and what you need are not obligations.”

Warmth pricks at your eyes and your stomach flutters.

“I also think there’s something you may not realize,” Mingi adds, drawing your attention back to him, “but Yunho and I are also scared of hurting you, or triggering something by accident.”

Yunho nods immediately, one hand finding your thigh to give you a comforting squeeze.

“Yeah?”

“Everytime you freeze up or flinch I wonder if I should have touched you differently, or not touched you at all,” Yunho admits.

Mingi nods, “The minute I catch the scent of your fear, I’m right back in that room with you. What happened affected all of us, there’s going to be things we both do that you have to deal with too, does that make sense?”

The knot between your shoulders releases and you sigh, “Yeah,”

“Like today, if you hadn’t been with one of us all day I think I would have gone insane,” Mingi offers.

Yunho swallows tightly and nods, “Completely insane,”

You can’t help but smile, “You both seemed pretty relaxed,”

“That’s because I could see you,” Yunho smiles, stroking his hand up and down your thigh, “with Minseok out in the world again our protective instincts are in hyperdrive, sweetheart,”

“I’m,” You start to say, but Mingi cuts you off.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” He sighs.

“I wasn’t,” You nudge him with your knee, “I was going to say that I’m glad,”

“Oh,” He deflates.

“I feel bad that there’s a reason for you to feel so tense,” You clarify a little, “but to have you both there for me like that? All I felt was safe, all day.”

“Good,” Yunho brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss there, “that’s good.”

“Honestly,” You laugh a little, “I liked it,”

“Well that was obvious,” Mingi squeezes your hip, “from the way you perfumed all over me,”

“Shut up,” You blush again.

“Mm,” Yunho teases a little, “protective alphas get you hot, hmm?”

“Oh my god,” You roll your eyes, but the flutter in your lower belly tends to agree with him.

Mingi smiles, but clears his throat and starts to sober, “Also, babe,” he squeezes you, “as much as I wanted to fuck you over the kitchen counter, I don’t think the first time we have sex outside of your heat should be so careless,”

Your face drops, realization stretching into you, “You’re right,”

“We need to take our time,” Mingi murmurs, “especially when we aren’t sure of your triggers yet,”

“Definitely,” Yunho nods.

“That makes sense,” You sigh.

“So,” Mingi’s hands slide off you then and he rocks back on his heels, clapping Yunho on the shoulder as he stands, “don’t apologize like that again,”

You feel a little like the world has tilted again.

“I can get dinner going,” Mingi starts to say, and you catch a confused flicker in Yunho’s eyes too as he turns from you to look up at his best friend.

“Mingi,” You try to interrupt him but he’s focused elsewhere, still rambling on about dinner, “Mingi!”

“What?” He turns around, eyes a little wide.

“Are you really not going to fuck me after all that?” You manage.

He shifts from foot to foot and where he had all the right things to say a moment ago, now he seems at a loss for words, “I didn’t think you’d want to after today, with the studio and we were just talking about him,”

Yunho waits, looking back up at you.

“I’m not that fragile,” You shake your head, “and he’s been in my head all day. He always is,”

Yunho’s jaw tightens and releases.

“And you’re right, we should take a little slow,” You tell them, “but I’m ready to figure that out together, I want you both so badly it’s driving me crazy,”

Mingi’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he takes a step back towards you both, “You’re sure?”

“Mingi,” You sigh, “baby, I’m sure, I’m ready to climb the walls I’m so horny, and I just really wanted one night where,”

Your words are cut off instantly, Yunho launching up into your space to catch you in a frenzied kiss, your legs parting open to let him crowd you more closely. You moan against his lips, hands finding their way into his hair, your hot center pressed up against his stomach as he dips you back into the sheets.

“Oh, thank god,” Your hips buck up into him as you moan, your head falling back to the mattress.

He takes a deep inhale, shivering in your arms, “You smelling this good outside of your heat should be illegal,”

“Yeah?” You pant, pulling him back to your mouth for another kiss.

“Mhm,” He hums against your lips, “it’s enough to send me into a rut, baby,”

You shudder, the thought of him rutting endlessly into you is enough to make you come, but when you go to pull him closer again you feel this time it’s not you who froze up, but Yunho.

“H-hey,” You lean back a little, smoothing the hair out of his face and catching his guilty expression, “what’s wrong?”

Mingi stands stock still to the side, his arms crossed and a serious expression across his face.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” He shakes his head, “I just meant you’re perfect, you’re… I didn’t mean that,”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up, but the penny drops when you think of Minseok. His excuses, his pleas, all the things he must have said to them to try to weasel out of his actions while you were trapped in headspace.

“Okay,” You shuffle back a little and sit up, reaching up for Mingi, “can you please come over here? You’re making me nervous standing around like a bodyguard,”

He drops his arms and nods, finding a place next to you on the bed, hands in his lap.

“Funny enough,” You catch Yunho’s eye, “the thought of you in a rut didn’t bother me at all,”

Yunho’s expression clears a bit, “It didn’t?”

You shake your head, “No,” you explain, “if it bothers you, then that’s different, but if you’re just worried about upsetting me,”

Yunho sighs heavily, dropping his forehead to your thighs as he sinks back to a kneeling seat on the floor, “We’re a mess,”

“Fully,” You laugh lightly, “we’re never going to christen this bed if we keep walking on eggshells,”

Mingi’s shoulders relax, and he reaches to press a hand to your upper back, fingers lightly curling around the sides of your neck. A pleasant, unexpected thrill passes through you at the sensation, and quietly you catalog it. Your neck has been such a sore, sensitive spot since the incident, but right now Mingi’s hand feels right.

“What do we do?” Yunho kisses your thighs and leans back up, “I don’t think either one of us is willing to hurt you,”

Mingi shakes his head.

“Accidentally triggering me isn’t willingness to hurt me,” You correct him softly, “and triggering me doesn’t necessarily mean I fall to pieces,”

He nods a little.

“Like what you did last week,” You point out to him, “when you kissed my neck,”

Gears start to turn in his brain, you watch it happening as his expression changes and you and Mingi both stay quiet while he works it out.

Finally, Yunho nods, “What triggers do we know about?”

“When you touch my neck,” The easiest, and most obvious.

You all think for a moment, and Mingi clears his throat, “You get jumpy when we’re both behind you,”

“That’s true,” You nod, “when I can’t see either of you,”

“Okay,” Yunho nods, “what else?”

You don’t want to think through the incident, not right now, but your mind skips over little moments the past few weeks and all the ways you’ve been on edge. Your eyes flick up to the space on the wall above the dresser, to the large reflection that stretches across the wall, “Mirrors,”

“Good,” Yunho dips forward and kisses you quickly on the forehead before standing, “give me a hand with this,” he says to Mingi.

Your other alpha responds immediately, and you watch as they lift the mirror up off the wall with ease and maneuver it out of the room without a second thought, silently communicating with each other the entire time.

Emotion fills your chest, warmth spreading through you when they cross back into the room looking accomplished. Yunho takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed and offers you a hand, “Anything else?”

You slip your hand into his as Mingi does the same on your opposite side. You chew the inside of your lip, thinking once again through all the potential pockets of fear. Minseok’s voice echoes in your head - Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch.

“Tone,” You offer quietly, “I can’t do that,”

It’s something some couples play with in bed, you’ve learned that in your research over the past couple of weeks into subspace and how it works. Some omegas want their alpha to use tone, they relish in the floating disconnection of subspace and the way their body becomes pliant and limp at the hands of their partner. You can’t imagine it, you can’t imagine ever wanting to release that level of control again.

Mingi’s hand grips yours, and he shakes his head, jaw too tightly clenched to form words.

“Hey,” Yunho soothes you, wrapping his arms around you, “that’s not even on the table, it’s not even near the table, okay? We might mess up in other ways without knowing, but I promise you, we’ll never do that with this. Tone isn’t something you use by mistake,”

You nod, and Mingi interjects softly, “You have to want it, you have to put intention behind it to push an omega to comply, that’s not something we can fuck up in the heat of the moment,”

“Okay,” The nerves in your stomach settle.

“If you’re worried though,” Yunho smooths a hand down your back, “we can be a little more careful about giving you directions, or being bossy,”

“Being alphas?” You laugh and shake your head, “No, no honestly I’ve always liked that and I don’t want this fear to ruin that,”

“Okay,” He nods, a soft smile on his lips, “if something doesn’t feel right though, you tell us.”

“For any of it,” Mingi adds, “stop us in the moment, we’ll readjust.”

“Or stop us full on,” Yunho notes, “I know you want to try, but there’s never a point we can’t stop,”

“I know that,” You nod, “I know I’m safe with you both.”

“Always,” Mingi squeezes your hand again, just a quick pulse to punctuate his intention, the truth behind it.

“What about you?” You ask softly, looking between them.

“Us?” Mingi asks.

“Is there something… I don’t know, that day was terrible but I don’t remember a good bit of it,” You explain, “I don’t know what happened when I was under, what might bother you?”

“I don’t know,” Yunho says honestly, “I’m more scared of hurting you than anything, so maybe don’t push yourself too hard?”

“If something starts to bother me?” You clarify.

He nods, “Yeah,”

“I can do that,” You nod, “we can take it slow,”

“Same for me,” Mingi nods, “we’ll figure it out together.”

It’s quiet for a moment, both of them just resting their hands on your body, and you realize they’re not ready to make the first move.

“Yunho,” You take his hand, sliding it up your thigh to your waistband, “I liked what you were doing before,”

“Yeah?” His expression relaxes, tension bleeding out of the room now that you’ve helped change the course.

“Mhm,” You shift on the bed to lean back into Mingi’s body next to yours and let your legs fall open naturally, “it’s been a long time, will you touch me?”

His fingers slide over your side, playing with the edge of your shirt.

“Will you take care of me?” You murmur.

He nods, his eyes darkening a bit and flicking over your body, darting up once to silently communicate with Mingi, “Lay back, sweetheart,”

Mingi shifts to sit next to you, his legs dropping over the edge of the bed and his broad hands coming to your shoulders. “How’s this?” He asks as he draws you down to lie next to him, both flat on your backs but his arm tucked under your neck so he can cuddle you into his side.

“So nice,” You murmur.

“I’ve missed this,” Yunho hums pleasantly as he peels your leggings down over your hips, “I regretted not putting my mouth on you more the minute your heat was over,”

A thrill rolls through you at his words and you shiver, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” He finishing rolling off your leggings and smooths his hands up and down your thighs, catching over your hips and hooking his thumbs in the sides of your thong, “you taste like you were made for us,”

“God,” You shiver, letting your head fall back onto Mingi’s bicep.

“So sweet,” Mingi adds, his free hand coming to rest on your chest, slowly dragging up the fabric of your shirt with his fingers.

“You know,” Yunho taps the side of your hip to prompt you to lift them and you shift immediately so he can discard your underwear too, “now that you’re not in heat we can actually take our time,”

“O-oh,” You shudder.

“Good point,” Mingi smiles, adjusting himself so he’s on his side now to look down at you, “no rush,”

You shiver as Yunho adjusts your legs open, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of your knee as he settles between your splayed thighs. A flutter of anticipation bubbles in you and you sigh, “I don’t know,” you smile, “I might start begging for a knot any second,”

Yunho huffs a little laugh, “You can beg all you want,”

Your mouth runs dry at the implication and you look down, “Yeah?”

He nods, but his eyes are glued to your sex, his expression hungry, “Mhm, this time you don’t need a knot, you just want one.”

You open your mouth to say something, but every thought falls right out of your head when Yunho blows a cool stream of air over your exposed core, your body twitching in response.

“God damn,” Mingi curses, shifting a bit so his arm slides out from under you, leaning up so he can get a good view.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Yunho murmurs, placing a tender kiss to the inside of your right thigh, slowly kissing his way to the top of your mound.

Your hips jolt in response, a spike of needy pleasure lighting up your spine and you nod, “So good,”

“Good girl,” He hums, dipping forwards and kissing your cunt in earnest, tongue dragging up through your folds slow and steady until he finds your tender bud.

You drop back against the sheets, your body shifting and moving on its own as you arch into his touch, your thighs already trembling at the sensation of pleasure building in your body after so much time.

“Oh, baby,” Mingi says, his voice husky, “you’re so beautiful,”

Yunho’s tongue teases you slowly, exploring you with little touches and licks, and you feel him sigh pleasantly between your thighs as he gets comfortable. Mingi slips lower in the bed, pushing your shirt up over your breasts before dropping his own lips to your hot skin. They kiss like they want to breathe you in until they’re dizzy, and as your eyes slip closed all you can focus on is the feeling of their hands holding you, their tongues, warm breath against your dampened skin.

Hands push your sports bra up to strip you off and leave you bare and then Mingi’s mouth closes over one nipple while his fingers tease the other, flicking and sucking in perfect rhythm to match Yunho’s tongue on your clit.

“God,” You shiver, heat pooling low in your belly, “oh, God,”

Yunho hums against you, pushing closer to your wet center so he can suck your tender clit.

You moan sharply, the feeling heady and dizzying, and you reach down to wind your fingers into his hair. He inhales against your skin and you blink your eyes open, looking down to watch as both your alphas lavish your body. Yunho looks up through the hood of his lashes, his face shiny and wet with your slick, and he shifts to open up your thighs more to his needy mouth.

“Fuck,” Your hips buck, fingers tight against his scalp.

Mingi shifts back up, this time pressing heavily into your space and capturing your mouth, his tongue flicking against yours as he dips you back into the sheets.

“Mmm,” Yunho nods into your core, his tongue pressing inside you as he nestles closer, your clit bumping the bridge of his nose.

Your hips roll, chasing the sensation that has already started to make you dizzy, “Oh, g-god,”

Mingi holds you closer now, your body trembling in his arms, and he strokes your sweat-slick skin, “That’s it,” he coaxes you, “that’s it, omega,”

Your thighs start to shake, and Mingi finds your knee so he can hold you open wide for Yunho’s mouth.

You jerk against him, hips jutting with every spike of pleasure, a blush blooming up your chest and cheeks.

“Ride him,” Mingi coaxes you as your hips roll, “just like that, come on his face,”

Yunho’s hands lock down tight, roughly pulling you a little closer so he can keep working his tongue against you, inside you, sensations exploding everywhere they touch you.

“I’m so fucking close,” You whine, the words running together as sweat breaks across your skin, “P-please,”

”That’s our girl,” Mingi nuzzles into the side of your head, his deep tenor making your brain go fuzzy.

“I’m,” Your eyes screw tightly shut, every movement of your body jerky and uncoordinated but every bump of Yunho’s nose against your clit and his tongue inside you has you right on the perfect precipice, “there, there,”

Yunho stays steady, hearing your need without changing pattern or pressure, and the sudden consistent pulse sends you spiraling.

You come hard, your first orgasm in weeks let alone your first non-heat orgasm with them, and you’re caught fully in the torrent of pleasure with your vision going white and a distinct ringing in your ears.

When you start to come through it, you realize you’re turned to the side, your body completely locked up and you’re gripping Mingi’s arm hard with your nails. He’s rolled close behind you to keep his arms there, but he leans over to see your face.

“So good, wasn’t it?” You catch the end of his sentence, blinking your eyes open and humming in response.

“Yeah,” Yunho’s voice now, and you look down to see him kneeling by your now-closed knees, one broad hand sweeping a line up and down your skin, “there you are,”

“I think you killed me,” You smile wide, tucking your face into the mattress, “you’re talking to a ghost,”

Yunho laughs, and Mingi hums a pleased sound, nuzzling you some more, “Come back over here, gorgeous girl,”

You let him roll you back over into the same position you started in, only this time your body feels like jelly.

“Good?”

“Delicious,” It’s the only word you can think of for how good it all feels.

Yunho nudges your thighs open again and you glance down.

“More?” He grins.

“What about you two?” You’re about halfway through the sentence when Yunho brushes his fingers over your clit again and your words end in a breathy moan.

“We’ve got all night,” Mingi reminds you, “and judging by how hard Yunho is, I think he likes getting you off,”

“Shut up,” Yunho scolds him gently before dropping a warm kiss on your inner thigh, “don’t tell me your dick couldn’t cut glass right now,”

Mingi huffs a laugh, “We have a whiny, desperate, moaning mess of an omega in our bed,” his fingers slide along your side as he talks and you twitch under his hands, “of course I’m hard.”

“Mm,” Yunho kisses up your dripping slit, “baby, why don’t you help him out with that while I take care of you?”

“Y-yeah, yes,” You reach for Mingi, “please, let me help,”

Mingi licks his lips, his hand drifting down to his clothed cock and your eyes flick down to follow. He’s straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, and you clumsily try to open them from your twisted position on the bed for a moment before he stops you.

“Here,” Mingi gets up and shucks off his clothes entirely, settling back down into the same position. He’s achingly hard, the head pink and leaking precum, and you blush at the dirty thoughts that flit through your mind one right after another.

“I can wait,” He offers.

“Fuck,” You shake your head, “I can’t,”

Mingi groans, his hand pumping over his cock once.

“Her mouth,” Yunho suggests between languid licks at your pussy, “trust me,”

You’re nodding before Mingi can even ask if that’s okay, “Please,” you prop yourself up on the bed a little better, “let me taste,”

“Fuck,” Mingi curses.

The three of you move and adjust in tandem until you’re propped at the very edge of the bed for Yunho between your legs, and supported by a pillow behind your shoulder so that you can be slightly turned to the side to reach Mingi where he kneels at your head, his thighs parted wide to drop low and get his cock level with your mouth.

They’re both fully still as you slide forwards, dropping your mouth open and letting the very tip of Mingi’s fat cock pass through your lips and over your tongue.

Mingi moans, and you hum in response.

“You two look perfect,” Yunho murmurs.

“Yeah?” Mingi’s hand brushes over your head, “You hear that, babe? You look perfect sucking my cock,”

You hum around him, taking him deeper into your mouth.

Yunho kisses your mound gently, and you know that’s your warning that he’s about to start again. You gently buck your hips to let him know you’re ready, and he hums softly. Before he starts though, he reaches one hand up and finds where yours is twisted in the sheets, pulling your fingers away so he can hold your hand instead.

He squeezes your hand twice, hard, “If you need air,” he tells you.

You pulse your hand back once to acknowledge his words.

He responds with a sharp thrust of two fingers inside your tight channel and you groan around Mingi’s cock.

“Shit,” Mingi grips you, “jesus, babe,”

Through hooded lashes you look up at him and his jaw tightens, his breath coming in hot exhales through his nose. Whatever you’re doing with your tongue is exactly what he needs and it springs you forwards.

The position isn’t perfect, but it’s close, and so you ignore the little bit of discomfort in your back to give him what he needs. You bob your head back and forth, dragging Mingi’s cock deeper into your warm mouth with every forward sink. He doesn’t direct your movements, but his hand in your hair feels comforting, steady, and makes you want to take him all the more.

“So good,” Mingi pants, “fuck yes, pretty girl,”

Your cunt clenches around Yunho’s fingers and you hear him chuckle between your thighs.

“Ah, ah,” Mingi huffs as you take him further into your throat, “she likes that?”

Yunho lifts his tongue from your clit, “Uh-huh,” he nips a little bite at your inner thigh, “she’s slicking all over my fingers,”

You groan, you didn’t know how they would really be outside of your heat. Heat makes everyone blurry and needy messes, but hearing how filthy they can be on a regular weeknight? No heat, no special occasion, just all of you together? You’re getting dizzy.

“Mm,” Mingi locks his eyes on your face, watching the way you take him nearly to the hilt, “look at you trying to take it all,”

You sink further, ignoring the burn in your jaw and the flickering gag reflex at the back of your throat until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.

“Jesus f-fuck,” Mingi groans, his head falling back, “that’s it, good fucking girl,”

Yunho’s lips close over your clit again and he sucks hard, ripping a muffled whine from your throat.

“Please,” Mingi begs, and you shiver at the sound of your alpha begging for you, not the other way around.

You pull free from his length and take a deep breath before diving back forwards, this time working him fast and a little sloppy. His fingers tighten up when you tease the head of his cock with the hard tip of your tongue, and his hips jerk every time you slide down about halfway, and with some sort of steady rhythm you double your efforts.

Yunho curses between your legs softly, and then you feel him move, tipping your legs open wider and readjusting his fingers inside you. Your eyes widen when you feel him curl them, locating your spongy g-spot and confirming it with a test jerk of his fingers that sends a shudder through your body as you moan.

He gets the spot right again, and then you’re done for. Between the quick juts of his fingers inside you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, and the feeling of his tongue torturing your swollen bud, you don’t have long.

“God,” Mingi pants, “listen to you,”

You’re a wet and whiny mess just like he’s said, only this time your mouth on his cock makes the sound of the room all the more lewd.

“Are you going to come for us again?” Mingi says, voice thready, “Our perfect omega,”

You whine, and you feel Mingi’s cock twitch in your mouth. Everything is foggy and hot, a building knot deep in your core, something bubbling up fast inside you and your hips jerk against Yunho’s fingers.

His thumb brushes the back of your knuckles and your eyes roll back, your orgasm rushing towards you fast.

Mingi’s groaning though, he’s close to spilling himself hot down your throat and when his hips jerk on their own you nod to let him know he can keep going. Falling forwards onto his knees he braces one hand against the mattress and keeps the other rooted in your hair, letting himself rock his hips just enough to drag his length in and out of your lips, over your tongue exactly where he needs the pressure.

”Someday I’m gonna knot that pretty mouth, baby,” He groans.

You moan hard, your back arching up.

Yunho uses your combined hands to push you back down flat to the mattress, and the pressure change has you ready to burst.

There’s so much happening at once, so much sensation pulsing through your body and despite the way that Mingi fucks your face, you’re acutely aware of the warm bubble in your belly dropping low and feeling unlike any orgasm you’ve ever had before.

You whine hard, your head jerking back a little, but Mingi doesn’t pick up on what you need immediately, he’s too close, “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m g-gonna,”

Yunho takes a sharp breath and then closes his lips over your clit, sucking fast and hard, his fingers pumping firmly at the exact rhythm you need like a metronome counting you through the last beats of your pleasure before the hard crescendo.

Something tightens in your gut, almost painfully and unfamiliar, and you whine harshly again, yanking back from Mingi hard enough that he stutters and lets you go. You fall back into the pillows just as the knot in your gut snaps and you come hot and hard with a staggered cry, arching into Yunho’s mouth as clear fluid starts to pulse from your core.

“Good girl,” He croons, sliding his hand up your wet pussy to rub fast and hard across your clit, prolonging the striking wave, “oh my god, baby, yes, fuck,”

”S-shit,” Mingi falters, his own release ripped away the minute you pulled back, and he makes the neediest whine you’ve ever heard from an alpha in all your life.

You’ll help, you will, as soon as you regain some semblance of which way is up and which is down and use of your arms.

Yunho’s quicker though, he squeezes your hand once before he pulls away, dropping your legs and making sure you’re not going to slide off the bed before he climbs up next to you both.

“You’re alright,” He murmurs, but it’s not to you, and you blink hard to clear the dizzy orgasm away and refocus.

When you turn your head you nearly lose your mind, the sight of your alphas together too good to even have imagined up in your darkest little fantasies. Mingi is still gripping the mattress with one hand and your hair with the other, but Yunho is wrapped behind him and reaching around to work his packmate’s cock with steady, fast strokes.

“F-fuck,” Mingi moans, “h-harder,”

Yunho drops his forehead against Mingi’s broad shoulder and lets his eyes close, picking up the pace of his hand, “Look at her, watch our pretty omega,”

Mingi groans, his eyes blinking open until he finds you.

You reach up, snaking a hand through the tangled mess of arms until you find Mingi’s hard nipple. His eyes widen and he hisses as you pass a thumb over it, shuddering between you both.

“Alpha,” You beg, “come,”

“O-oh my g-,” Mingi chokes as you start to flick his nipple a little more firmly.

”That’s it,” Yunho pants, and you see him looking down at you too, “help him,”

“Mingi,” You whine like you’re starving for him, “come for me, please, please,”

He gasps, hips canting forwards and jerking into Yunho’s fist, holding you steady on the bed as he releases, spurts of milky cum panting your lips, your cheeks, spattering across your naked breasts.

It takes a minute for you all to recover, the only sound in the room the heavy breath shared between you, but you watch as Yunho gently releases Mingi’s softening cock, bracing himself by holding Mingi’s hips for just a moment while he catches his own breath before sliding back and off the bed entirely.

Mingi shifts back, his cheeks and chest flushed pink and the reality of what just happened sinks into you. You have no idea if they’ve ever touched each other before like that, and you all but hold your breath to see where things go from here.

You listen as Yunho pads out of the room and into the connected bathroom, and after a moment of rustling around he returns with two towels. He tosses one down on the floor and you remember suddenly how your own orgasm ended.

”Oh, fuck,” You cover your eyes, “I’m sorry,”

”Don’t be,” Yunho says, “I loved it,”

”Still,” You sigh, “I’ve never done that before,”

Mingi huffs a tiny laugh next to you, and you pull your hand away to look up at him. He smiles a little, “That makes two of us,”

Yunho kneels on the bed, shifting a little closer, and passes the damp end of a towel over all the places you’re still covered in Mingi’s cum. He seems profoundly unaffected by all of it, and you’re a second from asking if he’s okay, but he gets there first.

“Sweetheart,” His gaze is soft and easy, and he looks down at you warmly while he cleans up your cheek, “can I touch your neck?”

You love him.

”Yeah,” You nod, stretching a little so he can reach.

He passes the towel over your throat quickly, “How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” You brush your hand along his arm.

He nods, tossing the towel to the edge of the bed. He looks at you a moment longer, but then he looks up to Mingi and clears his throat, “You good?”

“Yeah,”

You look between them, noticing the unspoken conversation passing between them.

“I hope I didn’t,” Yunho trails off.

“You didn’t,” Mingi promises, “it’s us,”

Yunho sighs, one of his hands coming to rest warmly on your stomach and the other reaching for your other alpha, “Good,”

It’s quiet for a beat, and you need to know where they’re at before you nervously combust.

“Um,” You shift in the sheets until you’re pushing yourself up to a seat with them, “are we… is everything…” you can’t figure out how to ask what you’re asking, so you settle on the only thing that makes sense, “are we good?”

“Of course we are,” Mingi reaches for you, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss to your lips.

”Sorry,” Yunho squeezes your thigh, “we didn’t mean to exclude you,”

“No, no,” You shake your head, “that’s between you,”

“No,” Yunho disagrees, “we’re all together, and there should never be any questions or secrets,”

“Mhm,” Mingi agrees, “but like I said, it’s us. It doesn’t have to mean anything, but things have always been different where we’re concerned,” He gestures between himself and Yunho.

“But you’ve never?” You let the implication speak for itself.

Yunho shakes his head.

“We made out in college once,” Mingi says, a laugh on his lips, “but we were pretty drunk and it was for a dare,”

“We weren’t that drunk,” Yunho shrugs.

“Hmm,” You stretch your aching limbs and tangle your fingers with Yunho, “I would have loved to have been there for that,”

Mingi laughs earnestly now and tugs you up into his lap, “I didn’t know you’d be such a horny little mess outside of your heat,”

Your core flutters but you tease him right back, “I’m an omega,” you roll your eyes, “we’re all horny messes,”

“That’s convenient then,” He kisses you, nipping at your lip, “since you have two alphas here who want nothing more than to keep you locked on our knots all day,”

You shiver a little.

“Yunho,” Mingi looks up, “come here,”

Yunho’s body heat envelops you on your left side, and they move you until you’re cradled in both their arms, body spread across their laps while Yunho holds your top half in the crook of his left arm and Mingi supports the rest of you.

They lean against each other, bare shoulder to bare shoulder and your mind starts to wander down the path of all of you together again.

“Maybe you were always meant to be pack,” You point out softly, and their hands still where they stroke your skin.

Yunho nods and looks over to Mingi, “We were fast friends,”

“True,” He murmurs.

Yunho smiles and looks down again, “Maybe we just needed to find you,”

“I forgot how much of a romantic you are,”

He dips down to press a fast kiss to your lips, “One of us should be,”

“I’m not complaining,” You peck his lips quick as he leans back up, “never stop,”

Mingi gives your hip a squeeze, and then he takes Yunho’s hand in his, “Let’s romantically make our girl come again,”

Yunho chuckles, low and warm in his chest, “What do you have in mind?”

You watch as Mingi guides Yunho’s fingers down to your entrance only this time he pushes his own fingers in right alongside. The stretch is sudden and perfect and you moan softly, gripping down on Yunho’s knee.

“Show me how you made her come before,” Mingi’s eyes are glued to your core, “I didn’t get to appreciate it before,”

Yunho grins, “Gladly,”

Your next two orgasms are a blur of sensation, their combined attentions pulling feeling out of you that you didn’t know existed without your heat. Mingi’s lavishing you with his tongue, cleaning you up from the mess you’ve made, when you finally make an overstimulated squeak and push his head away.

“Mm,” He kisses your clit, “fine,”

“If either one of you wants to actually fuck me,” You yawn, “I need a break,”

“Sleep,” Yunho pulls a blanket up and over your body, “we’ll be here when you wake up,”

You’d protest, but it sounds too good now that you’re cocooned in the blanket and buried in the pillows. When Mingi collapses at your other side and you have both of them around you, you drift.

You wake to lazy kisses, sleepy nuzzling from both of them, their hands drifting over your body.

You stretch into it, finding both of them hard and warm and wanting.

“Mm,” Mingi curls over your side, kissing any part of skin he can, “hi, sleepyhead,”

You gasp sharply as his mouth closes over your nipple.

“You were moving around in your sleep,” Yunho’s hand coasts up your thigh as he nudges closer, “bad dreams or good dreams?”

You moan as Mingi sucks a little harder, “No dreams,”

“Needy even asleep?” Mingi teases.

“I,” You start to say, but you feel Yunho’s cock nudging at the apex of your thighs, the head pushing against your clit.

“Fuck,” Yunho sighs, “you’re still wet,”

You shiver, and he pushes his hips forward a little to slide his cock against your slick slit further.

His hands tighten on you and he shudders a sigh into your hair.

“Please,” You part your knees, “no more teasing, I, just, please,”

Mingi shifts away from your back to give you a little space and without hesitation Yunho rolls you. Your legs part open naturally now that you’re on your back.

“Is this okay?” Yunho murmurs, brushing the hair back from your face as he settles above you and in between your splayed knees.

“Mhm,” You soothe him, his nerves evident despite the heat between you all in the room.

“And this?” He asks softly, the velvet head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

“Slow,” You gasp as he starts to push in, and he adjusts his pace. As always, his size dwarfs you, and it takes you time to adjust. In heat it’s easy to take an alpha’s cock with almost no preparation, your body producing enough slick and your muscles adjusting so that days of sex and knotting don’t feel so difficult.

Outside of heat you can take it too, but it’s not as quick and simple.

Your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the stretch of it, the ache, the way your channel seems to resist and then give way to him in the most warm and dizzying pleasure.

“Sweetheart,” He whispers, “are you with me?”

“Mhm,” You look back up at him, “you feel incredible.”

He sighs, relief in his eyes, and with one more careful push he seats himself fully inside you.

“You feel,” You shiver, words dying on your lips.

He smiles as he lowers himself down, resting an elbow on either side of your head and lacing one hand in your hair, “How do I feel, little omega?”

Your muscles flutter and clench around him and you sigh, “Big, it’s… god it’s so much more than when I was in heat,”

“No pain?”

“No,” You let your fingers stroke up and down the length of his back.

“Good,” He hums, dipping down to kiss you tenderly, “because you’re perfect, you feel perfect around me,”

His tongue dips into your mouth this time, a soft kiss turns needy, and slowly he starts to move, thrusting his hips shallowly just to get you used to the sensation.

Mingi shifts to rest close to you both, his fingers running up and down your arm softly, and you reach for him to twine your fingers together as you watch Yunho watching you.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “baby,”

You can feel the emotion rolling off him in waves, the tenderness as he presses himself deeper into you.

“Sweetheart,” His fingers brush along your cheek, “I, god, I,”

“I know,” your head falls back, and you grip Mingi’s hand.

Yunho picks up the pace slightly, a little faster and a little more with each stroke and he shudders when he hears a sharp moan, “Good?”

“Please, don’t stop,” You beg him, gripping down onto his shoulder with your free hand.

He adjusts your bodies, pressing over yours so that your hips rock with his in a rolling rhythm, and his lips capture yours. His warm breath, the pressure of him above you, waves of sensation as you breathe in his warm, safe scent.

You’re creeping up to the edge of an orgasm, but you feel him shudder above you before he moans against your mouth and you pull him tight to you.

“Please,” you moan, “Yunho please,”

“Say it,” he whispers, “tell me,”

The words spill out of you, “Baby, I, god, I love you,”

His hips slow and he meets your eyes, absolute tender adoration rolling off him in waves when he replies, “I love you so much,”

“I missed you,” You confess, a sudden rush of emotion through your chest and tears pricking at your eyes. Blinking hard you look to the side to find Mingi and squeeze his hand, “I missed you both. I love you both,”

Mingi’s expression crumbles and he presses forwards to kiss you, his lips connecting to yours with intensity, his free hand against your face, a sigh on his lips when he leans back. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, his eyes misty, “You’re our omega, our mate,” he corrects, “we’re never letting go of you again.”

“Mingi,” You soften.

“I love you,” He replies, kissing the back of your hand.

When Mingi slides back a little further, you look back to Yunho and see that he's frozen still above you, watching you both with warmth. When you meet his eyes, a small smile plays across his mouth, “Can you take more, baby?”

Your body jerks gently against him, just the implication that he would fuck you earnestly making your mind dizzy, and all you can do is nod, “Yes, yes,”

He rocks back down on you in an instant, gathering you as close as he can while he fucks you soft, meeting your mouth and saying everything he needs to in the kiss. All the apologies, the amends, he pours it all into this until he hears you whining beneath him, arcs of pleasure spiking up your spine with every deep roll of his pelvis against your clit and push of his cock in deeper.

“Like that?” He pants against your cheek.

“Don’t you dare stop,” You arch against him, holding him tightly to you as you let him move.

Something about the slow steady pressure he’s applying is making you careen back up to the top of pleasure. There’s a time and a place for hard and deep, but this? This has you melting into his hands in a way you’d never have expected and your legs quiver as you try to hitch your calves on his hips to give him a deeper angle.

“C-close?” He manages.

You nod, twisting your head to the side to catch his mouth again.

“Mm,” He groans against your mouth, “I can feel it,”

Your fingers tighten on him.

“Fuck,” He curses, his movements staying controlled and slow, firm but not too fast.

Tears gather in your eyes, the way the bubble is building inside of you is almost painfully good, and heat spreads over every inch of your skin before concentrating hot on your core. You feel the bed shift, and without looking you know Mingi is close by, all of your scents mingling together now in a way that bubbles emotion deep in your chest.

You think that this is what people mean when they say making love.

Your back arches, fingers digging into him, tears spill over your temples and into your hair as you let your head rock back, “Alpha,” you whine.

Yunho moans above you, and he mutters something on his lips but you can barely hear it.

This time when your neck stretches long and open to them, you know they won’t hurt you. Mingi’s hand slides underneath to cup the top of your neck and the base of your head, his fingers mingling with Yunho’s in your hair.

“We’re here, omega,” Mingi murmurs low, “let go for us,”

A tight strained noise bubbles from your lips as the feeling builds.

“You’re safe,” Mingi soothes.

Yunho shudders a moan, and you feel the slow swell of his knot starting to bump against your slick hole. He’s desperately close but holding on as best he can for you to get there first.

Mingi directs his next words away from your ear, “Don’t stop, she’s nearly,”

Yunho makes a noise, and you feel his fingers grip down.

It hits you like a snap of fire, your limbs a shaking mess, and you cry out sharply and twist beneath them in the sheets, pleasure overtaking you until you think you may not be able to take a second more.

“Shh,” one of your alphas says, but you’re too far gone to know which.

You’re a mess, the orgasm seemingly never-ending, and you can feel the hot tears and hear the way you’re sobbing in pleasure but it’s disconnected and floaty.

Yunho’s hips start to slow and then you start to feel him pull back entirely and something deep inside you panics.

Snapping forward you wrap your arms harder around him and pull him back down, your brain too fuzzy to say anything more coherent than, “Knot,” you beg, “please,”

He folds back over you, shifting your hips up and open wider, and though you can see the brief flicker of hesitation in his eyes he starts to snap his hips harder into you, the steady click of your wet skin against his the only clear sound in the room.

His cock spearing you open is so much sensation you can’t focus on anything else, every connection of your bodies and kiss of his skin pushing an overstimulated moan from your lips.

Yunho’s close now, his hands tight, breath thready, and he gathers you closer to his chest until you’re cupped against his breastbone.

“S-she,” He chokes.

“She’s alright,” Mingi assures him, his hand still warm against your back.

He’s scared for you, still so concerned about hurting you or being too much for you, especially out of your heat and especially after everything. He doesn’t understand that this kind of need, this want for each other so wholly is healing parts of you that you didn’t know were broken.

You tug him closer, kiss his chest where’s you’re cradled, “Yunho,” you whine, “knot me, b-baby knot me, come,”

He collapses, hips thrusting hard and then you feel the sudden push of something wide, the stretch as it locks inside, and then the warm sensation of his release filling you.

Yunho’s still panting hot against your skin when you feel Mingi shift, pushing Yunho back from your body so he can see you. He finds your chin, pulling your face up gently to meet his.

Yunho responds too, the head rush of his own release fading enough that he can focus and his hands smooth back your damp hair, “Are you alright?” His voice is shaky, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”

“God, no,” You breathe.

Mingi slides down in the sheets while still gingerly holding your chin, trying to get a good look at your eyes, “Babe?”

“Hmm,” You blink, finding his face more clearly, “hey,”

“Hey,” He smiles, but you can still see an anxiety in him.

“What’s wrong?” Your head is finally starting to clear enough for you to realize that they don’t seem relaxed in post-coital bliss, they seem stressed.

He shakes his head a little, lost for something to say, but his wide hand slides up and his thumb brushes along your cheekbone to your temple, “You’re crying,” he murmurs, “you were crying,”

“I’m okay,” You shake your head, “I’m more than okay, I’m… it was so good, it was,”

Mingi sighs heavily, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder, “Oh fuck,”

Yunho presses a hard kiss to your forehead as he exhales his own relief against your hair. His knot starts to soften, and your hips naturally start to shift away to separate you, but with Yunho heavy above you it’s impossible.

“Easy,” He murmurs against your skin, and you hear him breath in sharply in a way that sounds like he’s pushing back his own tears, “let me,”

It takes a moment, but as soon as his knot is down enough he slides out of your slick channel. He drops to the side of the bed that Mingi isn’t occupying and drags up one of the blankets to cover the three of you.

Mingi stretches out beside you too, and in a moment you’re cuddled between them.

“Closer,” You tug them in. After that, you need to be absolutely enveloped in them.

They both shift in until all of your legs are tangled together, and Mingi brushes your cheeks again, “Babe,”

“I promise,” You reach up to brush away any lingering wetness under your eyes, “it was just overwhelming, but in the best way. I can’t explain,”

“It was,” Yunho agrees softly.

“I just,” You feel another bubble of emotion as you recall it, trying to understand how to articulate it, “it’s like I could feel you both so much closer, more than I could for my heat, more than…. I don’t know, I just realized that you’re really mine. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I…”

Yunho shakes his head, “We’re the ones who can’t believe we have you,”

You twist in the bed, wrapping your arms around Yunho and hugging him close, “I love you,” you kiss his lips, his cheek, “thank you for taking care of me,”

He softens, “Always,”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” You need him to understand, “but you made me feel so loved and so safe,”

Your hand reaches back to find Mingi so you can tug him closer still and he slides up to your back and wraps an arm around the two of you.

“Both of you,” You hold them close, “no one’s ever made me feel like this,”

Mingi nods against you.

You hold each other close, breathing in the same air for a few moments, no one willing to rush the comedown when it was as emotional as it was. You stretch long in the bed between them to ease the sensation back into all your limbs and Yunho’s eyes darken, flicking down to take in your naked body again.

He’s half hard again by the time you’ve relaxed into the sheets and you smile.

Mingi’s fingers stroke up and down the smooth plane of your abdomen, light enough to tickle.

“Again?” You ask, a little breathless.

“Mhm,” Mingi draws his hand down lower, teasing just a little with the tips of his fingers.

“God,” You shiver.

Yunho nods, “Definitely again,”

“Mm,” Mingi rolls his fingers over your clit, “next heat, we’ll both fuck you together, wouldn’t that be perfect, pretty girl?”

A distinct flicker of need passes through you at his words. You do want that. You want it so bad you shudder and moan, your fingers digging into Yunho’s chest.

You shake your head and push Mingi’s arm away, “We should try,”

“What, now?” For the first time you see him truly caught off guard.

“Please,” You nod, “we don’t need to wait, I want you both,”

Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your arm, “It might be too much,”

“So then we stop,” You counter.

Mingi wets his lips, thinking it through and then he nods, “I’m not knotting your ass,”

You blush.

“Today,” He adds, “but, okay, let’s try.”

“Who do you want where, baby?” Yunho’s fingers trace your jaw lightly.

“Um,” You look between them, a little dizzy at how quickly they agreed, how immediately this is about to happen, “I’m not sure,”

Yunho looks up, “You take her ass,”

Your core clenches and Mingi smiles at the blush in your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” Yunho rolls onto his back, “come right up here,”

Slowly you ease one leg over and settle yourself over his cock. You’re still dripping with slick and Yunho’s last release, and it makes the slide easy as you sink down and bury him right back where he belongs.

He exhales sharply, “Perfect,”

Mingi leans back, finding the bedside table and pulling out the drawer, searching for the lube he knows is there that he’s definitely going to need with you not in heat. When he comes back he’s still sitting next to you and Yunho but he faces you, and you’re about to ask why he’s not already behind you when he cracks open the top of the lube and applies some to his index and middle fingers.

“Oh,” You breathe softly.

He slides closer on his knees now and reaches around you, “Lean forward a little on Yunho,”

You do just as he asks, and Yunho brings his hands up to brace you at the ribs, making sure that he’s supporting you from below.

“Babe,” He kisses your shoulder, “outside of the heat with us, have you ever done this?”

His fingers slide slowly over the tight ring of muscle and you twitch, “Been d-double penetrated?”

Mingi laughs at your description and Yunho smiles up at you. Mingi shakes his head, “No, has anyone ever touched you here?”

He presses with his finger but doesn’t push in and heat floods up your belly, “Mm-mm” you manage.

“Have you ever played with yourself like this?” He finally starts to push in a digit and you gasp, “Ever put anything inside?”

“N-no,” You moan as he presses his finger in deeper.

“I thought so,” Mingi murmurs, “we need to take our time,”

“I can do it,” You insist, the idea that you might not get what you want after he teases you like this is actually torturous.

“Of course you can,” Yunho cups your cheek, “you’re our omega,”

Your cunt flutters and clenches around his cock.

Mingi withdraws his finger and this time when he presses back in, it’s with two.

Yunho strokes your skin softly, lazily drawing a line from your chest to belly and back up, “Our mate,” he adds, “you were made to take us,”

Your hips cant forwards, pushing down on Yunho’s pelvic bone for any amount of pressure and stimulation on your aching bud.

He groans, “God,”

Mingi pumps his fingers slowly.

Yunho refocuses your eyes on his, “We know you can take us both,” he offers, “but I think what Mingi is saying is that if you’ve never done anything like that, especially regularly, we need to go slow and prep you.”

“Oh,” You relax a little.

“Mhm,” Mingi dips his head and you turn to meet his mouth in a kiss, “just let us make you feel good first,”

“Okay,” You breathe against his lips.

“Yunho,” Mingi murmurs, not drawing his face away from yours.

“Yes,” Yunho hums, and he slides his hand lower.

“Come here,” Mingi sweeps his free hand up and down your arm, and you twist to wrap them around his shoulders, “good girl,”

Your hips roll at his praise.

He finds your lips again, but this time it feels like everything is in slow motion. He worships your mouth with hot, lazy kisses, his tongue against yours and his nose nuzzling into you. The kind of kissing people don’t have time for unless they’re exploratory teenagers or intentional tantric lovers. He gets you used to the slowness, all the while his fingers a still, solid weight inside you.

Yunho’s hands match the pace perfectly, his ability to read the scene and you both uncanny, and all he does is tease. His hands squeeze, slow and firm across your sweat slick skin. Thighs, hips, waist, a tantalizing squeeze to your soft belly. He finally reaches your mound but doesn’t do anything, just rests his hot hand at the top of your cunt and waits.

You’re panting against Mingi’s mouth, lost in the hazy array of their bodies and yours, no concept of what time it is or how many times you’ve really come so far, it’s just you and your alphas and this bed. You push up a little higher on your knees as the kisses get headier, and you hear Yunho hum beneath you, his cock physically twitching and throbbing in your hot channel.

With the slight position adjustment, both of your boys take the opportunity to change the playing field. In tandem they move, Yunho slides two fingers under you, one on either side of your clit and where his cock spears you open, and he just presses ever so slightly to increase the pressure. Mingi slowly pumps his fingers again, this time pushing into your ass noticeably deeper and separating his fingers on each thrust a little wider to start to scissor you open.

You’re trembling, that much is obvious from the way your thighs quiver, and you whine against the cushion of Mingi’s lips, the sound swallowed by his own hungry groan.

You feel Mingi’s free hand slide away from your upper back and he taps Yunho’s chest twice.

“Mhm,” He acknowledges softly.

You break the kiss, your forehead on Mingi’s, “Baby,”

Your words are swallowed up though, he dives in again for another kiss but this time they move their hands with purpose. Mingi pumps harder, a third finger squeezing inside and Yunho’s fingers slide up and press down perfectly over your slick clit. He rolls his fingers at a steady, even pace and pressure as Mingi opens you up further to him.

Hot pleasure spikes up your body and you moan hard, gripping down on Mingi’s shoulders.

“There you go,” Yunho says, his voice tight and low, “good girl, fuck yourself on my cock,”

You didn’t even know you were doing it, your mind so hazy with sensation but he’s right, your body started moving on its own, sinking up and down just enough on Yunho’s thick length that you could imagine both of them taking you properly.

“Oh, fuck,” Yunho curses, “look at you slicking all over me,”

You whine.

“So horny from Mingi playing with your pretty ass?” His voice husky.

“Oh!” You squeak as hot sensation spikes up your body, and you slip away from Mingi’s mouth to bury your face into his shoulder.

“Oh, yes,” Mingi groans holding you close with one hand while he fucks into you with the other, “so fucking tight, baby,”

“Fuck,” You cry.

“You really think you can take my cock?” He teases, scissoring his fingers again

You nod, whining, words completely inaccessible.

“She’s our girl,” Yunho praises, “aren’t you, baby?”

You choke out a moan.

“Say it,” Mingi prompts.

“I,” You shudder, jutting down with your hips to force more of Yunho inside you, “yes, I’m your girl,”

Mingi’s hot voice at your ear is your undoing, “Is our girl close?”

Your nails dig into Yunho’s chest.

“Is our girl going to come?” He nips at your ear and you see stars.

Your body jerks against Yunho, the slick drag of your clit against his fingers where they still press, trapped between your body and his, and Mingi grunts in your ear as he pushes his hand harder and faster. You tear into your orgasm with a scream, a cord snapping in your belly and leaving your body shaking from head to toe, and Yunho shifts you up and lets his cock spring free so he can stimulate you through the end, wetness coating your thighs from where you released again.

You whine when it starts to feel like overstimulation, and Yunho stops, his warm hand coming to cup your cunt as Mingi’s fingers slide out of your channel.

“Shh,” Mingi pets your back, “oh, baby, you’re okay, we got you.”

You’re a babbling mess, not even really conscious of what you’re saying until the arcs of pleasure fade and you’re left boneless and held between them.

Yunho hums appreciatively, “Incredible,”

“Uh-huh,” You agree weakly.

Mingi strokes you more, kissing your head, “You’re still shaking,” he squeezes you like he can’t get enough.

Blinking hard, the stars start to clear and you lift your head a little, “Did we make a mess?”

Yunho laughs, “Fuck yes we did,”

You ease yourself off of Mingi’s shoulders and he helps settle you to a seat straddling Yunho again, “Fuck, the sheets,”

“Are made for heats,” Yunho dismisses, “they’ll be fine, it’s not the last time we’ll be making you squirt,”

“Tonight,” Mingi chuckles, “if we’re lucky,”

“Fuck,” You shiver and laugh, brushing your hair back and shaking your head.

“What?” Mingi pokes you.

“I just didn’t expect you two to be so…” You can’t put your finger on it.

“So?” Yunho’s brows furrow.

You’ve had plenty of sex, some of it you would have considered very good sex, but this? It’s another level of pleasure and need that you didn’t know existed. It could be your scent match, it could just be them and how compatible you are together, but there’s no question that it’s distinctly different and distinctly better.

You search for the right words but land on, “Feral?” You smile, “Maybe?”

“There’s no use in being anything else when it’s us,” Mingi says matter of factly.

An ache settles inside you. Any shame you had about sex at all dissipates in your mind and you smile, “You’re right,” you move forward on Yunho’s thighs, “now will you please both fuck me?”

You sink back down on Yunho’s cock in one fluid motion and he moans, his hips jerking up into the cradle of your hips.

“Hi, baby,” You grind down to take every little inch.

“Hi,” He’s breathless, an almost dopey pleasured grin on his face.

“Mm,” You sigh, enjoying the deep warmth of his cock inside you, “you feel so fucking good,”

“Yeah?”

You nod, “I want you inside me all the time,”

“That can be arranged,” He chuckles, reaching up to draw you down closer to his chest, locking his lips on yours.

You hum warmly against him, rolling your hips softly, “You can have me anytime,”

His hands tighten on your arms, “Careful, baby,”

“You’d like that?” You tease him, nipping at his lip, “Sliding inside me whenever you want,”

He groans and uses his firm hands to stop any amount of movement, “If you want Mingi to be included in this at all, you need to stop with that mouth,”

“Fine, fine,” You concede and you settle down, you’ll just torture him another time since it seems like teasing him is a sure fire way to get him to lose his mind.

Mingi’s hand strokes your back and you glance over to him as he locates the bottle of lube and starts shuffling towards you both again on his knees.

“Ready?” He asks.

“I’ve been ready,” You didn’t mean to sound so needy, but you are and it’s obvious.

“Mhm,” Mingi murmurs, and then he’s sliding behind you.

He straddles Yunho’s legs, fully situated with his hips right behind yours, and you listen as the bottle opens and then closes, the wet sound of his hand slicking up his cock with lube.

“Tell me if you need to slow down,” Yunho murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, “I’m not moving until he’s in, okay?”

Nerves bubble through you suddenly, “Okay,”

The sound of him shifting on the sheets behind you spikes anxiety up your spine.

A heavy hand settles on one hip and your stomach tightens. Another passes up and down your spine and your breath feels suddenly tight and thready. His hand anchors on your shoulder for a moment, the tips of his fingers startlingly close to your pulsepoint and your heart starts to flutter faster.

You know it’s Mingi, of course it is. Yunho’s here in front of you, and that means it couldn’t be anyone but Mingi behind you, but something about your already heightened nerves at the new experience and the inability to see him has you scared.

Yunho’s studying your face, a second away from realizing where you are, but you pump the brakes first.

“Wait, stop,” You manage.

The hands on your body lift off.

You’re breathing a little faster than you should, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Hard stop?” Yunho asks quietly.

You shake your head and swallow back some of the sudden fear, “Mingi?”

“I’m here,” He assures.

You sigh, relief flooding through you and you let your head drop down onto Yunho’s chest.

“It’s me,” He soothes you, realizing immediately where your mind had gone, “it’s me and it’s Yunho, okay?”

“Yeah,” You exhale and nod, “I know, I just… for a second,”

It’s quiet for a moment, but then Mingi says, “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I touch you, or should we stop?” He’s so careful, so tender. Distantly you remember the moment in the locker room all those months ago, the way he had carefully protected you when he found you in heat, vulnerable and alone. The two men around you have done nothing but protect you, care for you, and seek not just consent but need from you before anything and everything you’ve done together and that realization makes your body soften.

“Yeah,” You reply, “you can, I’m okay,”

You expect his hands back on your hips, but instead you feel a hand on top of yours where you cling to Yunho, and then another on your opposite, Mingi’s fingers threading together with yours.

You blink your eyes open and stare at your combined hands. You know him, you know these hands. You study his rings, the silver ones he always wears, and the little scar on the side of his thumb.

“It’s me,” He gently strokes your finger with his thumb.

“Hi,” You breathe.

“Can you sit up for me?” He asks and you nod.

Both of them draw you up to a sitting position, still angled forwards a little over Yunho but this time where you brace Yunho’s chest, Mingi’s hands cover yours, fingers still intertwined.

“Look at Yunho,” Mingi shifts closer to your back, kissing your shoulder, “and I’m right here.” He punctuates his words with a squeeze to your hands.

“We’ve got you,” Yunho murmurs, “we’re here,”

“I’m ready,” You echo the sentiment from before, but this time you actually are.

Mingi drops his lips to your shoulder again and kisses you, “Just relax, breathe into it,”

The slippery head of his cock nudges your entrance.

Yunho reaches around your bodies and assists, helping to guide Mingi’s cockhead inside you while his hands are busy.

It’s nothing startling at first, just a bit of pressure and not unlike his fingers from before, but when the head of him catches inside, and Yunho drops back, then you start to feel it.

Pressure blooms into a stretch, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and you gasp.

“How do I feel, babe?” Mingi’s got to be holding himself steady with so much control.

“Good,” You manage, “it’s so…”

He pushes his hips forward a little more, opening you up as his cock starts to thicken.

“Fuck,” You squeeze his hands.

“Good?” He checks again.

You nod, but Yunho smiles below you, “You should see her face,” he murmurs.

“I knew it,” Mingi pushes in more, “I knew you could take us,”

You moan sharply, the heat of them both an insane combination that pushes any thought out except for the sensation between your legs.

“God,” Yunho finally groans beneath you, “are you in?”

“A-almost,” Mingi sighs hot against your skin, “j-just a little more,”

A little more? You can’t even imagine, but he thrusts a little more sharply this time to seat himself fully and you grip down on his hands. It burns a little, but fades just as fast as it comes, and now all you can feel is the tremendous fullness of the weight of them together inside you.

“This is,” You blink looking down and seeing Yunho’s pelvis pressed against yours, Mingi’s thighs caging you in from behind, “I d-don’t even know,”

Mingi shifts forwards a little, mostly to adjust his position but it pushes him the smallest amount deeper and you moan sharply. Yunho hisses beneath you, his hips pulsing just once and you feel the way his hands grip down hard on your plush thighs.

“Can you feel him?” You manage.

“Yeah,” Yunho pants, “it’s… this is insane,”

“I’m,” Mingi sighs against your back, “I need a second,”

“Too good?” Yunho smiles.

“Just…” Mingi grips your hands, “nobody move, I’ll come way too fast,”

Filled to the brim like this you’re desperate to move though, it’s all you want to do. You all stay as steady as you can, just the sound of each other’s heavy breaths as you all get your bearings, but in the end you start to move first.

With the smallest shift, you rock your hips once, grinding them further into you and against each other through the thin wall inside you, and you moan.

Mingi jerks.

“Please,” You murmur into the hushed room.

Yunho looks up to Mingi behind you and nods, “Slow,”

They move in sync, a slow drag out and push back in and after two strokes you think you’ll be addicted to them fucking you like this.

“Y-yes,” You roll back with your hips, fucking back into them, “more,”

Mingi drops his lips to your back and uses the position adjustment to snap his hips harder, “You need more?”

A spark of hot pleasure echoes through you and you whine, “Anything, do anything you want, just fuck me,”

“Good girl,” Yunho hums beneath you, and you feel him adjust his legs and brace his hands on the bed.

Your soul quite possibly leaves your body the second they start fucking you in earnest. All you can do is hold onto them now, both of their cocks stretching you open with every quick pulse of their hips. None of you are going to last long at this rate but you really don’t care.

“Oh, god,” You collapse lower onto Yunho’s chest, still gripping Mingi’s hands to ground yourself.

“You’re so fucking tight, omega,” Yunho groans, gritting his teeth.

“And warm,” Mingi nearly growls.

“Wet,” Yunho moans.

Your mind is dizzy and hazy and full of pleasured pops.

Yunho’s hand cups your cheek, drawing your unfocused eyes down to his. He’s checking you, you can see that, but the moment you smile he nods like he’s praising you, “How do we feel, jagi?”

“So good,” You whine, grinding down and back and pushing into the sensation, “I’m so fucking full,”

Mingi chokes out a moan behind you.

“That’s our girl,” Yunho nods again and thrusts a little harder.

A shudder of hot warmth echoes up through your body and you know you’re blushing hard for them, slick with sweat and need.

“Say it,” Mingi groans, “say you’re ours,”

“I’m all fucking yours,” The words come out in a rush, “I’m your omega,”

His hips stutter and you’re all starting to lose your grip. He pushes a little too hard, and you both collapse forwards. You’re a tangle of limbs now, your face pressed up against Yunho’s throat, Mingi pressed into every inch of your back. Two of your hands are still clasped together and bracing the bed above, but the other two have separated and you hold tight to Yunho with your free hand while Mingi holds your hip with his.

They both haven’t stopped despite the position change, both of them needy and close themselves, rutting into you again and again.

“Fuck,” You curse, a roll of pleasure up your body, “alpha, please,”

“Come,” Yunho chokes, “come on our cocks, baby,”

It slams into you, his words as good as a command when you fall apart into shaking moans, pleasure washing through you.

“That’s,” Yunho starts to say, but at the sensation of your walls clenching down around him he loses all control and thrusts up hard, his knot locking firmly in place as he pumps rope after rope of hot cum inside you. He’s shuddering too, an overstimulated hiss as Mingi keeps fucking into you.

“So tight,” Mingi breathes hot against your spine, “my perfect girl,”

“Oh, Mingi,” You grip his hand, pressing your eyes closed as your body is worked over, “baby, please,”

He sucks in a sharp breath, pulling free from your body with a whine, and you hear him stroke desperately fast until he knots in his hand and spills his release across your skin, painting your backside until it drips down your cunt to where you’re still locked together with Yunho.

You feel euphoric, an almost drug induced haze of bliss, and you nuzzle into Yunho’s throat to press little kisses along his gland, your tongue darting out to taste his scent.

He shivers under you, “Feeling good, baby?”

“Mhm,” Rich, wet earth, the crackling of air before a storm. You worm your way closer to him, breathing him in.

Mingi’s hand untangles from yours and he shifts himself back from the both of you to grab a towel and come back to bed.

“Shh,” Yunho murmurs, his knot softening so he can pull himself free, “it’s okay,”

You didn’t even notice you had whined to keep him inside, and you’re not in heat, but something about the experience felt transcendental and you’re not even bonded yet.

Mingi drops a towel over the bed and they both ease you over so you can lay on your back, but you pull Mingi down, needing to settle yourself more, “Alpha,”

“Hey,” He starts but you yank him down and snuggle into his neck too, soaking in the rich cocoa of his scent, “whoa, hey,” he laughs.

You lap a stripe up his throat and he sighs, his body softening delightfully under your touch.

“What’s this?” He murmurs, stroking your skin.

“Need you,” You explain, and that’ll have to be enough.

You move then on instinct, your omega close to the surface now as you seek out what you truly need. With a hand laced in Mingi’s hair you direct him, pushing his head down while you stretch your neck long, and setting his mouth directly over your gland.

You’re not afraid.

He hesitates, breathing you in for a moment, and then you murmur a please.

Mingi’s tongue traces your neck as he drinks in your scent, his kisses slow and reverent over your mating gland.

You reach up and find Yunho, not feeling complete until you have them both.

“You need me too?” Yunho settles at your side.

“Please,”

Mingi makes space until you’re flat on the bed with your head back, neck bared to them both. They scent you slowly, deliberately and with delicious care. They kiss your neck and suck softly at your pulse points, they drink you in until your head starts to clear. They scent you until there could be no question who you belonged to and whose bed you come back to every night.

You tumble into sleep just the same, your alphas on either side of you, bodies wrapped up so closely together you don’t know whose skin is whose, their lips softly at your throat, whispering their love like a prayer .

#this night together fic #tnt fic #honeyhotteoks updates #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez f&f #ateez series #ateez #yunho x reader #yunho fic #yunho smut #yunho #mingi x reader #mingi fic #mingi smut #mingi #yungi x reader #yungi fic #yungi

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someonegoood · 2 months ago

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THE CORPORATE EQUATION chapter 5 ✫ jeon jungkook

as the office buzzes with gossip about the growing tension between you and Mr. Jeon, jealousy makes its way into the workplace when Minseok starts showing more interest in you.

CONTAINS: corporate!au, ceo!jk, headofhr!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: this will be a mini series. thanks so much for reading!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

miiini taglist @haru-jiminn @parapiop7 @radcustoms @minniejim @jeonzll @vantelover1306 @bgfdcvbnjk @mar-lo-pap @lmaothv @jksusawife @thatgirliehan @rayyrayy10 @lovingkoalaface <3

my main masterlist! ❀ the corporate equation masterlist!

❀ chapter five: the corporate ball

The office was abuzz with whispers and stolen glances as you walked in, clutching your coffee and scanning the room. The tension between you and Mr. Jeon had not gone unnoticed, and the rumors had only intensified after the gala invitation had arrived in everyone's inboxes.

Soojin smirked as you sat down beside her. "So, we're going together?" she asked, nudging your arm playfully.

You sighed, setting your coffee down. "I mean, I don’t really have a choice."

Dohyun leaned in from across the table. "Maybe Mr. Jeon will make another grand gesture. That speech he gave about you in the meeting? Damn, even I felt special."

Your face warmed at the memory. Just earlier that morning, Jungkook had stood before the entire company, recognizing your contributions in front of the executive board. It was a small thing, but the way he had looked at you—like you mattered beyond the workplace—left something lingering in your chest.

“This company thrives because of the people behind it,” he had said, his dark eyes scanning the room before landing on you. “And no one has exemplified that more than the head of HR.”

Murmurs had rippled through the conference room, colleagues turning to glance at you with curiosity and admiration. You had felt Minji nudge your side, her smirk teasing, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Jungkook.

The acknowledgment had caught you off guard, especially given how distant he had been lately. After the white lilies, he hadn’t so much as met your gaze in passing, hadn’t sought you out like he used to. But in that moment, standing at the front of the room, it was like no one else existed. The weight of his words settled in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You groaned. "Why does everyone suddenly care about my life?"

Minho chuckled. "Because it’s the only thing more entertaining than our actual jobs."

Soojin, ever the fashion enthusiast, had insisted on helping you get ready. She dragged you to her apartment after work, laying out a selection of elegant gowns she had picked out specifically for you.

"You need something that makes everyone regret ever breathing near you," she declared dramatically, holding up a sleek black dress with a thigh-high slit.

"I'm not dressing for someone," you scoffed, though the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

"Sure," Soojin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, try this on."

After much debate, you settled on a deep emerald gown that hugged you in all the right places. It was sophisticated, with just enough allure to leave an impression. As Soojin curled your hair, she smirked. "Something says to me that our boss is on your mind."

You groaned. "Not helping."

By the time you arrived at the venue, the grand ballroom was breathtaking. Chandeliers sparkled above, casting a warm golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests. As you stepped inside, the HR team fanned out, leaving you momentarily alone.

Jungkook was already there, standing beside his father, mother, and brother, looking as polished as ever in his tailored black suit. His presence was magnetic, even as he maintained his usual aloof composure.

His father took the stage first, clearing his throat before addressing the employees. "Tonight, we celebrate not only our company’s success but the people who make it thrive. Enjoy the night—you’ve all earned it."

As the speech wrapped up, you felt a familiar gaze land on you. Jungkook was searching for you. When his eyes met yours, he didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room, ignoring the curious glances, and pulled you gently away from your conversation with the HR team.

"What are you doing?" you whispered as he led you toward the garden, away from the crowd.

Jungkook exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I needed a break. Too many people. Too much attention."

You studied him, noticing the way his fingers trembled slightly. Without thinking, you reached out and took his hand, squeezing it lightly. "You’re doing fine."

He let out a small chuckle, his shoulders loosening. "I don’t know how you always manage to make things easier."

For a few quiet moments, the two of you stood there, surrounded by the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hum of music from the ballroom. When Jungkook finally seemed calmer, you stepped forward, fixing his tie. "Better?" you asked, smoothing out the fabric.

His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but then a wave of murmurs caught both your attention. Turning back to the ballroom, you realized that everyone was watching. The whispers were unmistakable—people thought you had come here as a couple.

Jungkook’s friends, Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung, wasted no time approaching. "So," Jimin drawled, a smirk on his lips. "When were you planning to tell us?"

Taehyung crossed his arms. "Not very CEO-like to keep secrets."

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling. "It’s not like that."

But no one seemed to believe him. Even his father, who had been skeptical of his leadership, was watching with intrigue from afar.

"She’s quite something," Taehyung murmured to Jungkook as he passed by. "Perhaps you should stop pretending you don’t see it."

As the murmurs around you grew louder, Jungkook straightened his tie, the moment between you slipping away as reality settled in. With a sigh, he glanced back toward the ballroom. "I should get back. Investors are expecting me."

You nodded, swallowing the strange pang of disappointment. "Right. And I should—"

"Go enjoy the night with your team," he finished for you, his voice softer. For a second, it almost seemed like he didn't want to leave, but then he took a step back, giving you one last look before turning toward the crowd.

You exhaled, smoothing down your dress before making your way back inside. The HR team had gathered near one of the tables, chatting excitedly about the event. Minji waved you over. "So… that looked intense. Care to share?"

Dohyun smirked, sipping his drink. "Yeah, because from where we were standing, it looked like the CEO and our beloved Head of HR snuck off for a romantic interlude."

Soojin nudged your arm. "You do realize the entire company is talking about this, right?" Her tone was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity in her gaze.

You rolled your eyes, picking up a flute of champagne from the table. "We just needed some air. That’s all."

Minji raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And that’s why he looked at you like—"

Before she could finish, you were interrupted by a voice from behind.

"Hey, I was hoping we could talk?" You barely had time to react before Minseok appeared. He placed a hand on your arm, leaning in too close for comfort. Irritation flared inside you. With a firm step back, you shook him off. "I’m not interested, Minseok."

Minseok was a senior employee in the finance department, well-regarded for his sharp analytical skills and strategic thinking. However, his reputation was often overshadowed by his overly competitive nature and condescending attitude.

Meetings with him were a battlefield—pointed remarks, veiled criticisms, and constant power plays. He never missed an opportunity to challenge your decisions, and you never backed down from standing your ground. Despite the friction, there was an underlying tension, an almost begrudging respect neither of you acknowledged out loud.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had a complicated dynamic with Minseok. While he never directly challenged Jungkook, his subtle attempts to undermine decisions didn’t go unnoticed.

Meanwhile, Jungkook stood among a group of high-profile investors, his father beside him while you were struggling. The conversation had momentarily shifted from company expansion to something far more personal.

“She’s quite something," his father remarked, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Perhaps you should stop pretending."

Jungkook exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t respond immediately, instead glancing toward you across the room. But before he could process his father’s words, the discussion pivoted back to business, forcing him to engage with the investors once more.

It wasn’t until a few moments later, mid-conversation, that something caught his eye—Minseok, standing too close to you, his grip on your wrist lingering despite your clear discomfort. Jungkook’s entire body tensed.

Without another thought, he cut off the investor’s sentence with a curt, "Excuse me." He was already moving before anyone could question it, his strides purposeful as he made his way toward you.

Minseok’s grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly as he led you away from the main ballroom, his voice laced with false charm. "Just a quick chat," he insisted, though the warning bells in your mind were already blaring.

"Minseok, let go," you said firmly, attempting to pull back, but he barely loosened his hold.

"Come on," he coaxed, leading you further into a secluded hallway where the hum of the gala faded into the distance. "We used to be good colleagues. You don’t have to act so cold."

Your pulse quickened. "I have nothing to say to you. And I don't appreciate being dragged away like this."

Minseok’s smile wavered, frustration creeping into his expression. "You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Just because Jeon favors you?"

Before you could snap back, a voice sliced through the air like a blade.

"Let. Her. Go."

Minseok barely had time to turn before Jungkook stormed forward, his usually composed demeanor now laced with fury. His gaze flickered from Minseok’s grip on you to your face, scanning for any sign of distress. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Minseok scoffed, though there was an unmistakable flicker of fear in his eyes. "This is none of your business, CEO Jeon. We were just talking."

Jungkook’s voice was dangerously calm. "You were forcing her into a conversation she didn’t want to have. That makes it my business."

Minseok released you abruptly, but Jungkook wasn’t done. He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a lethal whisper. "You’ve been a liability to this company for too long—your performance is mediocre, your attitude is worse, and now you’ve crossed the line. You’re fired. Effective immediately."

Minseok’s face twisted in shock. "You can’t—"

"I just did." Jungkook’s glare was unwavering. "Security will escort you out. Try anything else, and you’ll regret it."

Minseok opened his mouth, but one look at Jungkook’s steely expression had him thinking twice. He turned on his heel, storming off without another word.

The tension didn’t leave your body immediately. Your breath was still uneven, your heart pounding. Jungkook exhaled sharply before turning to you, his voice softer now. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. He reached out, his fingertips brushing over your wrist—the same spot Minseok had gripped. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," you assured, though the tremble in your voice betrayed you.

Jungkook’s jaw tensed. "Let me take you back."

He led you outside, guiding you toward his car. The sleek black vehicle was familiar—you had been in it before, back when he insisted on giving you a ride to the airport. But this time felt different. You were nervous, not just from what had happened with Minseok, but from the quiet intensity in Jungkook’s demeanor.

The drive back to the office was silent, the air thick with unspoken words. When you arrived, Jungkook opened the passenger door for you and walked you inside, leading you straight to his office.

Once inside, he let out a breath, running a hand through his hair before turning to you. "I don’t know what this is," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But I know I don’t want to see you with someone like him."

Your breath hitched, your heart hammering in your chest. "Jungkook—"

His gaze softened, something unguarded slipping through. "You’re not just good for this company, you’re good for me."

A slow smile spread across your lips as you leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in playful disbelief. "Does this mean the grumpy CEO actually likes me?" You couldn’t resist, your voice dripping with teasing. "And your ex?"

His lips twitched, a barely-there smile betraying the usual scowl that defined his demeanor. Amusement flickered in his eyes, but he fought it down, his tone rough and clipped. "Shut up."

You opened your mouth to deliver another jab, but the words died in your throat as he took a step forward. The air around you seemed to change, charged with an unspoken tension. He moved with a purpose, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

Before you could process what was happening, he closed the distance, one hand gently but firmly cupping your jaw. His thumb brushed the edge of your lip as his lips came down on yours. The kiss was not the desperate, rushed kind you had imagined; it was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment he’d waited for just as much as you had.

Time seemed to stretch in that space between breaths. The world around you faded away. No business meetings, no unresolved drama, just the heat of his kiss and the way his hand slid around to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t stand to be apart for another second.

You felt a small flutter of uncertainty, a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind, but it quickly dissolved under the weight of his touch. This wasn’t about your teasing, nor his ex—it was something real, something undeniable. The kiss deepened, soft but full of a promise you weren't sure you were ready for, but couldn’t resist.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your lips tingling with the aftermath. You blinked up at him, still processing the sudden shift. He gazed down at you, a faint grin curling at the corners of his mouth, though his eyes remained serious.

"Next time," he murmured, voice low and gravelly, "don’t think you can get away so easily with teasing me."

You smiled, heart racing in your chest. "I’m not sure you want me to stop."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head, the faintest trace of warmth in his usually guarded expression. "That’s what I thought."

And as his hands found yours, pulling you back into his embrace, you realized there was a lot more between the two of you than just words.

previous / next

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lewisvinga · 1 year ago

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born to die | fernando alonso x fem! reader

summary: after their engagement, y/n realized her and fernando may have different views of the future. it makes her wonder if they were really born to die.

warnings; age gap, cursing, angst/fluff

word count; 1.28k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; and this is it u guyssss🥹 i enjoyed this series sm and i’m so thankful 4 everyone who read n enjoyed it<33 im gonna miss it sm but keep a look out for my next music f1 series 😁

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

masterlist !

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“But are you really ready to settle down?” Y/b/f asked Y/n during their biweekly brunch dates. The topic of marriage came about after due to Y/n started wedding planning a few months after being engaged.

Her best friend knew her more than anyone. They grew up together. So Y/b/f knows that Y/n never wanted to settle down so quickly. She knew that she wanted to spend her 20s having fun and completing her master's.

Marrying someone who is already in their 40s and wants to settle down as soon as possible meant there was a conflict between their futures.

“I mean, not yet.” Y/n sighed, grasping into the cup of tea as she shrugged. “I love Fernando, I do. I don’t want kids yet. I want to wait a few years and-“

“But does he know that? That’s a man who wants to settle down already and have a house in the countryside. That’s a man who wants children soon.” Y/b/f interrupted her, genuine concern written all over her face. “He’s a great guy and I love that he makes you happy but is that what you really want? Having kids means giving up a lot and you know that I know that.” She added about her own child. “And He just signed another contract with Aston Martin. If you do have kids, he won’t be around to help you much.”

Y/n let out a groan, running her hands over her face. “I was lost before I met him. I was so confused as a little child but he gave me a sense of meaning. I love Nando, I truly do. But It’s just,” She sighed. She looks out the window of the restaurant and watches busy people walking down the sidewalks. “Now that I think about it, we view the next 5 years completely differently.”

Y/b/f reaches out and grabs her hand, forcing Y/n to look back at her. “Just think about it, okay? I love you and I just want the absolute best for you.”

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Y/n sat on the top step of the front patio of her shared home with Fernando, staring out onto the gloomy skies. Despite it being sunny when she was at brunch, by the time she got home it was drizzling. However, the rain usually calmed her and in a moment where she was deep in her thoughts, she definitely needed to be calmed.

She was so lost in her thoughts of her future that she didn’t notice her fiancé’s Aston Martin pulling up to the driveway. The Spaniard was confused as to why his fiancée was sitting on the patio with a sad look on her face.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He asked. He sat down next to her and caressed her arm. Hearing the concern laced in his voice was the triggering act for her.

“Do you think this is the right time for us to get married?” Y/n asked, keeping her eyes on her fiddling fingers. She hears Fernando’s breath hitch as he sits up straight.

“Why do you think that?”

“Fernando, you’re older than me, like a lot older and-“

“You just noticed?” He asked in a teasing tone in hopes to lighten the mood a bit.

She just sighed in response and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fernando, we both have different views of the next 5 to 10 years and you know that. I’m still young. I want to go out and party and enjoy my life. I just started my master's degree. But I know you want to retire in a few years. I know you want to have kids as soon as possible and settle down. But I-“

Y/n takes a deep breath as she glances up at her fiancé. “I don’t want that. Not yet at least. Not until I finish my master's. I don’t want to settle down just yet. Y/b/f had to stop so many things when she had her son. It makes me wonder if we’re really meant to be. Maybe you and I, we were born to die.”

Fernando’s minute of silence made her heart drop. He looked like he was lost in his thoughts, similar to how she was moments prior. “What are you even talking about, Y/n? We were born to die? Come on, mi amor!” He exclaimed, standing up to his feet. Her eyebrows furrowed up as she copied him by also getting on her feet, ignoring how the rain began to come down harder.

“Maybe it’s true, Fernando!”

“It’s bullshit.” He let out a laugh as he ran his hand over his beard. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s bullshit. Yes, we’re different ages. The road gets tough, it happens and I don’t know why, but we carry on. That doesn’t mean we’re born to die. Come on!” He continued, his eyebrows furrowed up.

“Are you even listening-“

“I am and what you’re saying is bullshit like I said!” Fernando responds, taking a step closer to her. “Amor, yes, I want children. Yes, I dream of us one day living on the coasts of Spain with our kids but that doesn’t mean I want it right away. I want you to achieve your degree. I want you to enjoy yourself first because it’s not up to me when we have kids. It’s all you.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do I have to do to prove this to you?”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she tilted her head. “What do you mean ‘prove’ it to me?” She asked, confused by his words.

He takes a step back with a shrug. “Prove that I don’t care if you want to wait to have kids. Prove that I wanna marry you because I love you, not to settle down.”

“Well, you don’t need to prove-“ She pauses in her words when she sees him take a step down. She lets out a sigh, her hands falling to rest by her side. She knew immediately by the glint in his eyes what he wanted to do. “Fernando, no. You’re going to get sick.”

He takes another step down.

“Fernando, stop that!”

He takes one step back and is immediately met with the pouring rain. In seconds, his clothes and hair were drenched but he didn’t care. Not one bit.

“Fernando, come back! The longer you stay there the more likely you’ll be sick.” She scolded him but he simply smiled in reply.

“I’m not leaving unless you join me.”

Y/n crosses her arms, glaring at Fernando who keeps smiling. She let out a sigh of defeat as she took a couple steps down the stairs and made it out into the rain. He immediately pulls her close by her waist. She lets out a yelp and balances herself by holding onto his shoulders.

“I love you and I want to marry you, mi amor. I don’t mind waiting 5, 10, even 15 years for us to have kids and ‘settle’ down.” He loudly says over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. “I just want you.”

She laughs in disbelief, resting her forehead against his chest. “We can figure it all out later, right?”

“It’s just you and me right now, mi amor,” Fernando says. He cups Y/n’s face with one hand, forcing her to look up. He took a second to admire her features and her messed-up makeup from the rain. He leans down, kissing her hard in the pouring rain. Her previous thoughts immediately washed away the moment she felt his lips on her. Maybe they weren’t born to die.

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #fernando alonso scenarios #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine

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baekhyunsbestie · 3 months ago

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── ❝ CHILL BABY ❞ 🪩🥂 ̟!!

⟢ a continuation of this :') switched up on the setting but the plot’s still p much the same hehe <333

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 19.3k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. jongin x f!reader. mentions of other exos. jealous!baekhyun. corporate!au. enemies to lovers. fake dating. one bed. ⟡ fluff & smut ⟡ alcohol consumption, explicit language, pet names, praise kink, body worship, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie ⟡

you step into minseok’s pristine office, already feeling the weight of impending doom. the polished chrome desk, minimalist decor, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manhattan scream authority. unfortunately, the man sitting behind the desk—a seasoned negotiator with a no-nonsense attitude—screams something else: stress.

minseok gestures for you to sit, and your stomach drops when you see baekhyun already lounging in the chair across from him. he’s got that laid-back, insufferably confident posture, as if he owns the whole damn office. his tie is casually loosened, jacket tossed over the back of the chair like he’s at a bar instead of a meeting. he twirls a pen between his fingers with a carefree smirk, completely at ease as though this were some casual hangout, not an important work discussion.

your blood boils a little as you can’t help but notice how good he looks. it's infuriating—he looks effortlessly sharp in that tailored suit, the kind of guy who knows exactly how to make everything he wears look like it was meant for him. but it only adds to how much you hate him. everything about him rubs you the wrong way, especially when he knows exactly how to push your buttons without even trying.

“perfect timing,” minseok says, glancing between the two of you. “i’m glad you’re both here.”

you sit down reluctantly, throwing baekhyun a pointed glare. he meets your eyes, his slow, cocky grin widening in response.

“as you're both aware,” minseok begins, his tone serious, “our company, inb100, is on the verge of finalizing a crucial merger with kim corp. this partnership has the potential to redefine our future, expanding our reach and solidifying our position in the global market. the board is counting on us to ensure this merger goes off without a hitch. we need a strong, unified front to manage every detail and make sure everything aligns perfectly. that's where the two of you come in.”

“us two?” you repeat, narrowing your eyes in disbelief, the words tasting as bitter as they sound.

minseok nods, his expression calm, though the weight of his words lingers heavily in the room. “yes, you’ve consistently proven yourself to be one of our sharpest,” he says, his tone steady. then, shifting his attention to baekhyun, he continues, “and baekhyun, your financial analysis throughout this merger has been exceptional. as heads of your respective departments, it’s logical to assign you two to spearhead this project together.”

“exceptional,” baekhyun repeats, leaning back in his chair with a grin that’s equal parts smug and infuriating. he lets the word hang in the air like a trophy. then, with an exaggerated sweetness, he shifts his gaze to you. “you hear that, sweetheart? i’m exceptional.”

you roll your eyes, the movement sharp enough to cut. “yeah, well, even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then.”

his laugh comes easily, warm and unbothered, which only fuels your irritation. “oh, so you’re admitting i’ve got something worth finding?” he teases, leaning forward just enough to make his smirk even more unbearable. “i’m flattered. really.”

you pointedly ignore his comment, pivoting back to minseok as you try to make sense of this ridiculous pairing. “i’m sorry,” you say slowly, your voice a mix of disbelief and barely restrained irritation. “us two? as in me and baekhyun?”

minseok lets out a long, exasperated sigh, briefly closing his eyes as though regretting every life choice that led to this moment. he pinches the bridge of his nose before answering, his tone clipped. “yes, as in you and baekhyun... unfortunately.”

your jaw drops, and before you can stop yourself, your voice rises. “oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

baekhyun sits up straighter, his smirk vanishing as he frowns. “the fuck you mean, ‘unfortunately’?” he interjects, indignant. “i’m a goddamn asset to this company.”

“an asset?” you snap, turning to him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “you’re a walking liability.”

“alright, look,” minseok snaps, cutting through your bickering like a knife. “this isn’t optional. you’re both going to work together, and you’re going to make this merger happen without killing each other—or giving me a migraine.”

the room falls silent, except for the sound of baekhyun clicking his pen with obnoxious precision. he glances at you, his smirk creeping back like clockwork. “well,” he says, voice dripping with mock sincerity, “looks like we’re stuck together, partner.”

you grit your teeth, wishing for nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. instead, you flash a tight smile and mutter under your breath, “yeah, lucky me.”

“stop,” minseok interjects. “i don’t have time for either of your antics. this is a very high-stakes deal, and you’ll need to work together professionally.”

you lean forward, gripping the edge of your seat. “sir, with all due respect, are you sure there’s no one else available that i can work with? someone with a shred of self-awareness, perhaps? hmm? maybe kyungsoo?”

baekhyun gasps mockingly, placing a hand over his chest. “wow, that’s the thanks i get for stepping in when you were about to miss your deadline for the ad campaign?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “missed? i wasn’t about to miss anything.”

he raises an eyebrow, smirking even more. “oh really? because i distinctly remember you practically pulling your hair out over that presentation. but, hey, no big deal. i was just the one who swooped in, fixed your last minute errors, and made sure everything got delivered on time.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “oh, please. fixed? more like rearranged everything i worked on just to make it fit your ‘vision.’”

baekhyun shrugs nonchalantly. “well, it worked, didn’t it? the client loved it. you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

minseok’s palm meets the desk with a resounding thud, the sharp sound cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. you and baekhyun both jolt in your seats, your bickering silenced mid-breath.

“enough!” minseok’s voice is sharp, commanding, and leaves no room for argument. his eyes dart between the two of you, his patience clearly worn thin. “you’re both flying to hawaii in four days to seal the deal with kim corp. i don’t care if you need to hold hands, build a sand replica of the empire state building, or host a group therapy session on the beach—figure it out and make it happen.”

“hawaii?!” you and baekhyun say in unison, though your tones couldn’t be more different. yours is filled with disbelief; his is downright gleeful.

“yes, hawaii. the big island,” minseok sighs, rubbing his temples, clearly done with the constant bickering between you and baekhyun. “baekhyun, handle all the travel arrangements and accommodations.”

“in four days?” you squeak, the shock clearly written across your face. “b-but tomorrow's christmas!”

“and if you're both efficient, maybe you'll wrap things up before new year's,” minseok adds dryly, his voice edged with impatience.

you can't help but groan, dragging your hands down your face in disbelief. “this—this is a joke, right? can’t it wait until after the holidays?”

minseok shakes his head, his expression firm. “afraid not. both our board members and kim corp. are pushing to have this done as quickly as possible.”

the room falls into a tense silence. you blink at him, unsure whether to be more insulted by the lecture or horrified at the prospect of spending a week in paradise with baekhyun. meanwhile, baekhyun—ever the instigator—leans back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“‘hold hands’, huh?” baekhyun drawls, casting you a teasing sidelong glance. his lips curve into a smirk, clearly amused by the idea. “what do ya say, sweetheart? should we start now?” he extends his hand toward you, fingers wiggling as if he’s daring you to take it.

you shoot him a withering glare, your patience wearing thin. you slap his hand away with a swift, practiced motion, but he just chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this.

minseok lets out a frustrated groan, rubbing his temples in exasperation, face twisted with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “get the fuck out of my office. both of you. now.”

as you storm out of minseok’s office, the sharp click of your heels echoing down the hallway, baekhyun effortlessly falls into step beside you. his hands are tucked casually into his pockets, and he’s whistling a jaunty tune that only fuels your irritation.

“looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of quality time together, sweets,” he says, his tone practically dripping with amusement.

you don’t even spare him a glance, your eyes locked on the corridor ahead. “oh, i know, right?” you say, layering your voice with a fake, perky enthusiasm, clapping your hands together as if you couldn’t be more thrilled. “finally!”

out of the corner of your eye, you catch baekhyun’s reaction—his smile widens, stretching farther than you’ve ever seen, and for a split second, there’s something vulnerable in it. it’s as if your little act has caught him off guard, and maybe, just maybe, it’s made him feel a little… touched.

you continue, “maybe we can even do one of those excursions while we’re there... like a boat tour around the island or something?”

baekhyun blinks, clearly thrown by the shift in your tone. his usual cocky demeanor falters for just a second, a hint of pink creeping up his neck. “r-really?” he stammers, his voice softer, less certain. he runs a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck as he stumbles over his words. “i... i can look into it.”

your smile doesn’t falter. in fact, it only grows, but now there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes. “yeah! and maybe while we’re out there, i can push you off the boat and into the ocean. and maybe, just maybe, i’ll finally be free of you.”

you both come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hallway, the tension between you palpable. baekhyun’s expression is a study in exaggerated betrayal—his jaw slack, eyes wide, and brows lifted as if you’ve just struck a fatal blow.

“ouch, sweetheart,” he says after a beat, his voice low and laced with wounded amusement. “you really had me going there.” he straightens with an air of mock dignity, brushing off your jab with a shrug that’s almost convincing.

but, of course, baekhyun can’t resist adding more. “even if you did push me off the boat,” he continues, a mischievous glint sparking in his dark eyes, “hate to break it to you, but i can swim.” he leans in slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially as if sharing a secret. “word around the office, though, is that little miss head of the marketing department wouldn’t know what to do if she fell in.”

your brow arches sharply, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. crossing your arms over your chest, you fix him with a look so dry it could evaporate water. “we live in new york city, baekhyun. why the fuck would i ever need to know how to swim?”

there’s a brief pause before you tilt your head, the corner of your mouth twitching into something that barely resembles a smile. “congratulations, though,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “does the head of the finance department expect a medal or something?”

the corner of baekhyun’s mouth twitches, just enough to give you a glimpse of that infuriating, signature smirk of his. it’s the kind of smile that makes your stomach do flips, even though you’d rather be annoyed by it. but there's something about it—something you can't quite place—that pulls you in.

“sure,” he drawls, his voice smooth as velvet as he leans in a little closer. his face lowers until it's dangerously close to yours, making your breath catch in your throat. “i’ll take any kind of medal, especially if it’s comin’ from you, sweetheart.”

the air between you both feels thick with tension, his proximity almost dizzying. you force yourself to stay composed, a rush of heat crawling up your neck. “careful what you wish for, baekhyun,” you warn, your voice sharp, but there's the faintest tremor in it that betrays your cool front. “i might just hit you across the head with it.”

he laughs then, a deep, rolling sound that vibrates through your chest, somehow managing to be both incredibly irritating and impossibly charming. the way it lingers in the air is so annoyingly contagious that you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling.

the week hadn’t even started yet, and already, you were plotting how best to drown him in the ocean. for real this time.

the plane touches down with a soft jolt, and you can't help but groan under your breath. another business trip, another round of dealing with baekhyun's antics. as the seatbelt sign flickers off, you push yourself out of your seat, eyes already narrowing at him when you catch sight of his casual posture as he stands up and stretches, completely unbothered. typical.

“are you always this annoying, or is it just me?” you mutter, moving past him in the aisle.

baekhyun grins like he’s too pleased with himself. “you’re the only woman on this earth who’s immune to my charm, sweetheart. so yeah, it’s just you.”

you roll your eyes and trudge toward the door, where he follows right behind you, humming his ridiculous tune like he doesn’t have a care in the world. the last thing you need is to spend a whole week in his company, but here you are, stuck with him—again.

when you step into the airport terminal, you let out a long sigh. your heels click against the smooth floor as you make your way toward baggage claim. you’re half-focused on the carousel when baekhyun sidles up beside you, that damn grin still plastered on his face.

“so, what’s the hotel you booked for us?” you ask, feigning innocence, but already bracing yourself for whatever ridiculous answer he’s about to give.

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, twirling his bag strap like he’s the most important person in the world. “oh, i found us the perfect place. a real gem.” he pauses for dramatic effect. “one-star motel, just for you, babe.”

you elbow him in the ribs with a sharp jab, the motion automatic. you can’t even look at him for too long without feeling your frustration grow. he chokes on a laugh, pretending to be hurt as he leans away from you, clutching his side.

“okay, okay,” he says through the laughter, “i was kidding. i got us the ritz. you deserve no less, right?”

your eyes narrow in disbelief. “the ritz? really? you?”

he gives you a sly look, the same irritating grin still there. “what? don’t act so surprised. i’ve got taste.”

you roll your eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh, before your attention is abruptly yanked away by a very familiar figure standing just a few feet away from the carousel. your heart sinks, the sight of him instantly clouding your thoughts. jongin. your ex. the one who shattered your heart last year. the last person you ever expected to run into here.

jongin’s gaze flickers over to you, and a smug smile curls at the corners of his lips. “well, well, well,” he says, his voice smooth, laced with that same confident edge you remember so well. “what are the odds, huh? i didn’t think i’d be bumping into you of all people.”

your breath catches in your throat, and you can’t stop the small ache that forms in your chest, the memories flooding back despite your best efforts to push them down. he steps closer, his eyes scanning you, like he’s inspecting every inch of you as if he’s trying to figure out how you’ve changed. or maybe how he hasn’t.

“jongin?” you whisper, the name slipping from your lips in disbelief.

he quirks an eyebrow, a slight frown pulling at his features. “‘jongin?’” he repeats, his voice laced with surprise, “it was always ‘nini’ to you.”

you glance down at your feet, a sudden shyness washing over you. “it’s been a while,” you murmur, your voice barely above a breath.

“indeed, it has,” he replies, his gaze never leaving you, and this time it feels almost like heat. there’s a pause before he adds, his voice low, yet dripping with that familiar cocky edge, “you look... even better than i remember.” his grin curls up, just as self-assured as it always was.

you fight the urge to roll your eyes, though you can’t quite suppress the bitterness rising in your throat. you were fine without him, you remind yourself, but it’s hard to stay completely unaffected when he looks at you with that same damn smug expression.

“maybe fate’s decided we should reconnect. who knows what could come of it, right?” jongin continues, his voice teasing, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

before you can even think of a response, baekhyun steps in, his presence suddenly right at your side. without missing a beat, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him in a way that has you blinking up at him, completely thrown off by his sudden boldness. he looks at jongin, coolly meeting his gaze.

“sorry, don’t think we’ve met,” baekhyun says, his voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that’s anything but genuine. he tightens his arm around your waist just enough that you can feel the shift in his posture, like he’s pulling you into his orbit. his eyes flicker briefly to you before he meets jongin’s gaze again, sharp and calculating. “who are you?”

“relax, buddy,” jongin chuckles, clearly unfazed, though there’s an edge to his voice. “can’t a man talk to an old fling?”

baekhyun's smirk widens, but there’s a shift in his expression that sends a shiver creeping down your spine. his eyes narrow, no longer playful or teasing, but dark—almost predatory. the air around him seems to thicken, charged with something dangerous.

“of course he can,” he says, his voice smooth, almost too calm, but beneath the words lingers an undeniable edge. “just not when she's with her new boyfriend.” his eyes sharpen, scanning jongin from head to toe, the silent challenge in his stare unmistakable. “you understand, don’t you?”

boyfriend.

the word hits you like a slap. your mind blanks, then fills with the echo of that single word—boyfriend. boyfriend. boyfriend. it loops in your head, drowning out the noise around you.

you blink up at baekhyun, your pulse quickening as you try to process what just happened. the air between you seems to thicken, and for a moment, you’re unsure whether you’ve heard him right. but before you can gather your thoughts, his thumb brushes against the exposed skin of your shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.

“and trust me,” baekhyun continues, his voice still light, but there’s an edge of something in it now—something that sounds like possession. “she’s long forgotten your sorry ass. so no need to be ‘reconnecting’ anything. isn’t that right, my girl?”

you freeze for a beat, your brain scrambling to put together something that sounds convincing. you feel your heart thudding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears as you fight the strange, rising panic. why did he say that? your throat tightens as you try to process, to find some semblance of normalcy in this chaotic moment.

“ah, uh—y-yeah,” you stammer, the words sticking in your throat. you clear it quickly, hoping to mask the sudden shake in your voice. “jongin, this is baekhyun, my... boyfriend.” you gesture from jongin to baekhyun, your hand feeling oddly heavy.

the way you say it feels strange, as if the word boyfriend doesn’t quite fit, but the sincerity in baekhyun’s arm around you, the warmth of his touch, makes it feel... real.

you barely register jongin’s sharp inhale or the way his expression falters for a split second. baekhyun’s grip on you tightens for a moment before he leans down, his lips brushing your forehead in a quick, almost teasing kiss.

“we’re actually here for new year's, you know,” baekhyun says, his voice laced with a sweetness that you can’t quite shake off. “my girl can’t stand the cold back home, so we thought we’d escape for a bit.”

you glance up at baekhyun, trying to process how he knows exactly how much you hate the cold.

jongin stands there for a moment, the sharp glint in his eyes betraying the thoughts running through his mind. but before he can say anything more, his driver arrives, and he quickly shifts, offering a lazy smile as he turns to leave.

“well, that’s me,” he says, his voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and something darker, like he's savoring the moment. “as much as this reunion’s been... lovely, the ritz doesn’t wait, right? good luck with your little relationship, though. she’s only worth the first few rounds, by the way,” he adds, giving baekhyun a light slap on the shoulder, before his gaze shifts to you—cold, dismissive, and pointed.

with that, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving the two of you standing there in a thick, uncomfortable silence. you exhale slowly, trying to shake off the tension that’s still hanging in the air.

baekhyun doesn’t release you, his arm staying firmly around your waist as he tugs you closer, the heat from his touch making the knot in your stomach tighten.

you shift uncomfortably, your voice barely above a whisper. “baekhyun? why... why did you do that?”

baekhyun shrugs, eyes avoiding yours as a cocky smirk spreads across his face. “he was a dick. and frankly, i’m the only one allowed to be a dick to you, sweetheart.”

you scoff, but the irritation quickly fades, especially with how close he’s standing. his presence is magnetic—infuriatingly comfortable, and you find it hard to stay mad when you’re this close to him.

“w-wait—” you stammer, hurrying to keep up with baekhyun as he walks toward the luggage carousel. you watch him reach for the bags, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the defined muscles of his forearms as he moves effortlessly. as much as you’re tempted to linger on the sight of his bare forearms and the veins that run along them, your thoughts are still tangled in the conversation you just left behind. “he said he’s going to the ritz?”

baekhyun pauses, his fingers wrapping around the handle of your suitcase as he turns to glance back at you. his brow arches slightly, and there’s a fleeting flicker in his expression—something sharp, maybe irritation or even jealousy, though you can’t quite pinpoint it. it’s subtle, but it’s there, simmering beneath his calm exterior. “yeah? and?”

you falter, the realization crashing into you like a freight train. “you… you booked our stay at the ritz.”

the words hang in the air, and for a second, baekhyun doesn’t respond. instead, he straightens, pulling your suitcase off the carousel with a practiced ease before grabbing his own. his movements are unhurried, deliberate, like he’s giving himself time to decide how to respond.

finally, he lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm but edged with amusement. “oh, i see what you mean now.” his gaze flickers to you, his lips curving into that infuriatingly cocky smile. “what? you worried about running into him again? don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that asshole.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. “no, i’m not hung up on him. it’s just…weird. what are the odds, right?”

baekhyun shrugs, completely unfazed. “doesn’t matter, sweets. it’s the ritz. i booked it because you deserve nothing less. if he’s staying there too, that’s his problem, not ours.” he smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that always manages to irritate and disarm you all at once. “besides, if he shows up, i’ll just remind him who you’re with now.”

his words hang in the air, casual but loaded, and you’re left staring at him, your cheeks heating as you struggle to come up with a response. typical baekhyun—always leaving you flustered and one step behind.

the car ride to the hotel is the kind of moment you’d want to capture forever. the windows are rolled down, letting the warm, golden sunshine pour in, and the tropical breeze carries the scent of saltwater and plumeria. you lean your head back against the seat, letting your eyes flutter closed for just a second as the warmth kisses your skin. it feels almost unreal, the stark contrast to the biting cold and slate-gray skies of new york city that you left behind.

cold never suited you.

you’d always hated bundling up in layers, the way your breath fogged up the air, and how the snow turned into a slushy mess on the sidewalks. you hated it all. and yet, somehow, baekhyun knew.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to piece it together. he’s relaxed in the driver’s seat, one hand loosely gripping the steering wheel while the other rests on the open window’s edge. his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his hair is ruffled slightly from the breeze. he looks completely at ease, like he belongs in this setting, soaking up the sun and radiating that same kind of effortless warmth.

“you’re quiet,” he says, breaking the silence. his voice is light, teasing, but not overbearing. “cat got your tongue, or are you just enjoying my company?”

“yeah, you wish,” you quip back, but there’s no real bite in your tone. your gaze drifts out the window, watching the palm trees blur past. “it’s just… nice here. warm. i like it.”

“better than new york, huh?” baekhyun grins, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before focusing back on the road. “figured you’d like it here.”

you blink, caught off guard. “you… figured? what do you mean?”

he shrugs, his casual demeanor just a little too smug for your liking. “you complain about the cold every chance you get,” he says, ticking off each point like a laundry list. “you show up to work in like three coats, a scarf, a beanie, gloves—and don’t even get me started on that sauna of an office you keep. every time i have to drop off paperwork, i’m convinced i’m walking into a tropical rainforest.”

“oh.” your frown deepens, a flicker of embarrassment creeping in. you hadn’t realized your habits were that obvious, but then again, this is baekhyun—he notices everything, even the things you wish he wouldn’t.

“besides,” he continues, his tone softening, “you deserve a break. and yeah, i know you’d probably rather be on this trip with some other loser from work, but…” his eyes flick to yours briefly, something playful but sincere lingering there, “i figured at least the weather would make you happy.”

and you are happy, you realize, though admitting it feels like giving him too much credit. the sun, the warm breeze, the open windows—it’s all so far removed from the icy grind of your usual routine. the air feels lighter here, and maybe, just maybe, so do you.

you glance at him again, catching the slight curve of his lips, that telltale satisfied smile that says he knows he got this one right. it’s annoying, really, but for once, you can’t summon the energy to fight him on it.

“thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely cutting through the rush of the wind outside.

he doesn’t miss a beat. “‘course,” he says, his smile widening like he’s been waiting for you to say it. then, because he’s baekhyun, he adds, “but hey, if you want to admit i’m the best coworker ever, i won’t stop you.”

you roll your eyes, but even that feels easier here. you settle back against the seat, the sun warming your skin, and let yourself enjoy the moment—just this once.

the lobby buzzes with the energy of holiday travelers—laughter, the distant sound of luggage wheels, the soft clinking of champagne flutes from the bar nearby. you and baekhyun stand at the concierge desk, your patience already wearing thin as the desk clerk types furiously into their computer.

“ah, yes,” the clerk says, glancing up with a polite smile. “we have you booked for one room—honeymoon suite, king bed.”

you blink. “i’m sorry, what?”

“the honeymoon suite,” they repeat, a tinge of unease creeping into their voice as they register your disbelief. “with one king bed.”

“that can’t be right,” you say, your tone sharp enough to slice through the holiday cheer around you. “honeymoon suite? are you sure you pulled up the right reservation? we’re here on a work trip, not a honeymoon. i’m sure we were supposed to have two rooms?”

the clerk’s smile falters, replaced by a wince of sympathy. “i’m so sorry,” she says, her voice overly apologetic. “the reservation only shows one room—the honeymoon suite. and unfortunately, we’re completely booked because of the holidays, so i can’t offer you any additional rooms. however, there is a sofa bed in the suite,” she adds, as though that detail might soften the blow.

it doesn’t.

you pivot on your heel, fixing baekhyun with an incredulous glare. your expression says it all: are you kidding me? meanwhile, he looks as relaxed as ever, one hand casually resting on the counter, the other in his pocket. the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to make your blood boil.

“baekhyun,” you hiss, your voice low enough to avoid drawing attention but packed with enough fury to cut through his smug demeanor—or so you hope. “what the hell happened, king of the fucking finance department? you were in charge of the booking.”

he meets your gaze, his smirk growing into something downright infuriating. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver, just stands there like he owns the place, completely unbothered. and for a split second, you think he might actually find your irritation entertaining.

he blinks at you, eyes wide with mock shock as he lets out an exaggerated gasp. “i could have sworn i booked two rooms.”

your jaw tightens, your glare sharp enough to pierce through steel, but he doesn’t so much as flinch. instead, he turns back to the clerk, his tone smooth and unbothered. “oh well,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, as though sharing a bed is the most natural thing in the world. “it’s fine. we’ll make it work.”

before you can even open your mouth to protest, he plucks the two room keys off the counter, his lips curving into a disarmingly charming smile. “thanks so much!” he says, his voice all honey and confidence, before grabbing your belongings and striding toward the elevators like he’s just won a prize.

you stand there, rooted to the spot, half-fuming and half-stunned, before your feet finally propel you forward. your steps are quick and purposeful as you catch up to him. “baekhyun, i swear—”

he lets out a dramatic sigh, leaning against the elevator wall. “look, this was a pretty impromptu trip,” he explains, his voice taking on a softer tone, though the glint in his eye tells you he’s not entirely innocent. “we only found out about it a few days ago and it was the best—and only—room available. sorry, sweets.”

you narrow your eyes at him, lips pressed into a tight line. “‘sweets’? seriously, baekhyun, you need to cut it with the cute pet names before i smother you in your sleep tonight.”

he raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “what? you wouldn’t do that to your boyfriend, would you?” he teases, the words dripping with amusement as his grin grows wider.

the moment you step into the room, you're hit with its effortless elegance. the soft, golden light of the hawaiian afternoon floods in through the large windows, casting a warm glow across the expansive suite. the walls are decorated with modern art that feels both stylish and inviting, while the floors are covered in a plush cream-colored rug that matches the dark wood furniture. a massive king-sized bed dominates the room, draped in crisp white linens with fluffy pillows stacked high. to your left, there’s a sleek glass-walled shower and a soaking tub that looks out over the coast. it’s a peaceful, luxurious space, and for just a moment, you forget all the chaos of the check-in.

you sigh contentedly and make a beeline for the bed. it’s so inviting, the mattress looking impossibly soft, the kind of bed you can sink into and never want to leave. without hesitation, you plop down, burying yourself in the comfort of the bed and letting out a blissful hum. “dibs on the bed tonight,” you say, looking up at baekhyun with a mischievous grin.

he stares at you for a moment, lips curling into a smirk. “oh, no you don’t,” he retorts, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “this bed’s big enough for both of us. we’ll just share.”

you shake your head, hands stretching out like you're claiming territory. “nope. you can take the sofa, my guy. i’m calling it. this is my bed.”

baekhyun chuckles, a low, amused sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. he leans back, feigning deep thought, but the playful glint in his eyes gives him away. he’s not nearly as irritated as he wants you to believe. "fine," he finally says with a dramatic sigh, standing up and stretching as if the very act of standing is a monumental task. “i’ll take the sofa, even though i’m not thrilled about that.”

you watch him, trying to maintain your cool, but the unexpected pang in your chest catches you off guard. the way he’s pretending to be put out, the effort he’s putting into making it seem like he’s sacrificing something when he’s clearly just messing around—it all hits you. for a split second, you feel bad. genuinely bad. a small voice in your head whispers that maybe he’s doing this to be nice, that maybe he’s not as bad as you keep telling yourself.

but no. you push it down. you’ve made your decision about him, and you won’t let him worm his way in with his charm. you hate him, and nothing—nothing—will change that.

suddenly, baekhyun halts, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, though the faintest trace of a smirk remains tugging at the corners of his mouth. “i’m gonna shower first. we can finish figuring out the whole sleeping arrangement afterward, but i’m down for a pillow wall, if you are, sweets.”

his gaze flickers to yours, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “i know that was on your mind,” he adds, his tone dripping with smug confidence. and damn it, that annoys you, because he’s right. it pisses you off, that he knows you so well.

he leans in slightly, voice smooth as silk, his smirk widening. “and hey,” he continues, “you wouldn’t want your dear old boyfriend to end up on the not-as-comfy sofa, right? be a good girlfriend, would ya?” there's a challenge in his tone, one that pulls at something inside you, a knot tightening in your chest.

you stare at him for a beat, trying to muster up the usual annoyance, but you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips. “you’re insufferable, baekhyun,” you mutter.

he winks at you, not missing a beat. “thanks, sweets. oh, and by the way,” he adds, tone dropping to one of mock seriousness, “don’t leave your expensive shampoos and stuff out, okay? if i find them, you’ll be watching me use them all up. fair warning.”

“don’t even think about it!” you call after him, but you can’t hide the amused smirk tugging at your lips. you watch him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting a few seconds later.

your mind is a blur from everything that happened today. the weight of it all presses down on you, and the only thing you can focus on is shuffling through your bag to pull out your laptop. your fingers tremble as you tell yourself that, if you're going to avoid thinking about it all, you might as well get some work done.

so, you dive into your tasks—attempting to organize baekhyun's script and fine-tune a presentation. it’s a half-hearted effort, though. the words blur together, and the sound of your own thoughts fades, the distraction of everything around you creeping in.

you're barely getting anywhere when the sound of running water suddenly stops, pulling you from the haze of your work. the bathroom door creaks open, and your heart skips a beat as you glance up, knowing exactly what’s coming.

and there he is.

baekhyun.

fucking shirtless.

the same baekhyun who has spent months throwing paper clips at you during meetings, the one who always swiped the last muffin in the break room—one he knew you’d been eyeing all day. standing there, completely unbothered by your presence, his sharp hip bones and smooth muscle curves on full display.

his broad shoulders practically fill the doorway of the bathroom, water droplets still clinging to his skin, glistening under the light as they trail down his collarbones, catching the soft glow of the room. they follow the sharp planes of his abs, disappearing just below the towel hanging low on his waist—just barely hiding the path that your eyes desperately try to pull away from.

you swallow hard, fighting the flush rising to your cheeks, but the image is already burned into your mind.

you turn away from him, trying your best to ignore the way your body seems to heat up at the sight of him standing there, half-drenched and smug.

“baekhyun,” you huff, shaking your head. “will you put some fucking clothes on?”

he just raises an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by your discomfort, and with a teasing grin, he casually asks, “could you toss me my clothes, sweetheart? i kinda left them on the bed.”

you roll your eyes but can’t stop the small sigh that escapes your lips. “you’re unbelievable.”

turning, you walk over to the bed where his clothes lay, carefully picking them up and making your way toward the bathroom. the large, opulent space feels even bigger as you step inside, and you can feel the humidity from the steam still lingering in the air.

as you step closer to him, your foot slips on the puddle of water he carelessly left on the floor. your balance falters, and before you can catch yourself, baekhyun's quick reflexes come into play, and he catches you by the waist.

his chest is still damp, and your body presses against his—his wet skin, still warm from the shower, sends a jolt through you, and for a moment, your mind blanks.

you can feel his heartbeat under your palm, and you pull yourself together, clearing your throat. “right. great. i, uh—thanks,” you mutter, pushing yourself away from him and regaining your composure.

baekhyun doesn’t seem fazed, his eyes still glinting with mischief as he looks down at you, but you quickly shake your head and take a step back, raising a hand. “out. now. i need to use the bathroom, and you’ve been hogging it long enough.”

he smirks, clearly amused, but doesn’t argue. “fine, fine. but you owe me for saving you from that puddle. you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, pulling a towel around his waist as he walks past you, his grin never fading.

you huff, watching him leave the bathroom, all too aware of the lingering heat between you. once you’re alone, you exhale sharply, trying to shake off the tension that’s built up.

the night is long, and you can’t seem to get comfortable. baekhyun, despite having his own side of the bed, is tossing and turning, invading the carefully constructed pillow wall you made between you two. every time he shifts, his arm brushes against your side or his leg nudges yours, making sleep impossible. you try to push him away, but he doesn’t stay put, and soon, your frustration reaches its peak.

with a deep sigh, you throw the covers off and slide out of bed, silently cursing the universe for putting you in this position. without another thought, you drag your pillow and blanket over to the couch, settling in the cramped space. the sofa bed’s not great, but it’s better than trying to sleep next to baekhyun, who seems completely oblivious to your discomfort.

hours pass, and though you’re exhausted, sleep doesn’t come easily. the sofa bed is too short, and the padding is far from comfortable, leaving your back sore and your mind restless. you spend the night staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the thoughts running through your head.

finally, as the morning light begins to filter through the curtains, you hear baekhyun stirring. you sit up, rubbing your eyes and immediately checking your laptop to avoid looking at him. the soft sound of him getting out of bed fills the room, and you can almost hear his confusion when he spots the sofa bed.

he’s quiet for a beat before his voice rings out with disbelief. “wait, seriously? you’re on the couch?” his tone is a mix of surprise and concern.

you glance at him from over your laptop, blinking away the grogginess. “yeah,” you reply, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “it wasn’t that bad.”

baekhyun’s brow furrows as he walks toward you, eyes scanning the couch and then locking onto you with a look of confusion. “but still…” he says, his voice soft but serious, “i would've rather had you stay in bed, and me go onto the shitty couch. you going on the sofa bed sounds like something that other guy would have you do.”

he sits down next to you on the couch, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. despite the proximity, he acts as if this is completely normal, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and yet, it’s throwing you off, making you question what exactly is going on between you two. but then you notice the subtle shift in his expression—a slight wince—as he realizes just how uncomfortable this is. it’s a fleeting moment, but you catch it, and it makes you smirk.

you laugh softly, breaking the tension. “okay, okay, fine. i’ll kick you out if you don’t behave tonight.”

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “not even gonna send me straight to the couch?” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “gonna give me a chance on the bed tonight? you goin’ soft on me, sweetheart? promise i won’t disappoint. y’know, women are actually trying to get into my bed, not out of it.”

you roll your eyes at him, shaking your head at his cocky demeanor. without warning, you start throwing pillows at him, laughing as you yell, “actually, you can sleep on the beach tonight, you fucking loser.”

he jumps off the couch, trying to dodge the pillows with a dramatic flair. “it’s too early in the day for you to be this violent, woman!” he yells, grinning like a maniac.

“oh, please!” you laugh, barely able to contain your amusement. “this is a normal tuesday for us, baekhyun.”

just as you’re about to throw another pillow, a loud knock echoes from the door, cutting through the chaos.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

baekhyun flops back onto the bed, the sheets crinkling beneath him as you both listen to the sharp knock at the door. but before you can even move, you take the opportunity to lob one last pillow at him—smacking him squarely in the face while he's still caught off guard. you quickly shuffle toward the door, eager to beat him to the punch before he can retaliate.

you wonder, just for a second, if it’s an employee delivering the good news that there's another room available, something that might finally make this whole situation more bearable. but as you open the door, your breath catches in your throat.

standing in the doorway, looking like a storm cloud ready to explode, is jongin. his glare could slice through steel, and his arms are crossed tightly over his chest, lips curling into a sneer.

“of fucking course” he mutters, his voice dripping with venom, “it would be you two making all that noise next door.”

you sigh, an exasperated, barely contained groan slipping from your lips. “great. perfect. just what i needed,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as the last of your patience slips away. “what do you want, jongin?”

his sneer deepens, and his voice drops into something more menacing. “to shut the hell up,” he snaps. “some of us are still trying to sleep. i don’t care what pathetic excuse of a dick he’s giving you—”

“is that all?” you interrupt, your voice flat, cutting through his tirade before it can build. your hand slides the door open just a bit wider, your tone dry and uninterested. “if it is, i’ll get back to that ‘pathetic dick.’”

there’s a brief shuffle behind you, and before you can even react, you feel the heat of baekhyun's body press against your back, the sharpness of his presence unmistakable. he leans in close, his voice a low, almost playful hum that sends a shiver down your spine.

“what’s all this about pathetic dick?” he asks, his tone smooth and dangerously seductive, “‘cus it sure as hell can’t be mine.”

jongin’s eyes flick to baekhyun, and the tension between the two men is palpable, charged with unspoken animosity.

your face heats instantly as baekhyun’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. the warmth of his body is almost too much to handle, and his dark eyes glint with amusement as he tilts his head down to meet yours. the smirk that curls at the corner of his lips is nothing short of lethal. “isn’t that right, sweetheart?” his voice teasing and sure.

“uh... yeah,” you stammer, the words slipping out a little too quickly, your throat tight and a rush of warmth spreading beneath your skin.

jongin’s sharp gaze narrows, cutting through the space between you and baekhyun. “she doesn’t sound very convinced,” he sneers, his lips curling into a venomous smirk. “guess she’s been missin’ a real man, huh?”

without even sparing him a glance, baekhyun’s attention remains solely on you. his lips hover dangerously close to your neck, brushing just enough to send a shiver racing down your spine. “well,” he murmurs, his voice dipped in sweet, honeyed malice, “who’s been makin’ her scream all morning?”

he angles his head slightly, exposing a red splotch on his jaw, a visible mark left from the earlier cushion assault. but the way it stands out against his skin speaks to something far more suggestive. his gaze flicks to jongin, sharp and mocking. “we’ll try to keep the noise down. now, why don’t you go be a good neighbor and fuck off?”

before jongin can retort, baekhyun’s grip on you tightens, and he tugs you back and further into your shared room with a firm, deliberate motion. the door clicks shut behind you with a satisfying snap, the confrontation left to fizzle out on the other side.

the night had fully embraced the island, the sky a deep, velvety black speckled with a million stars. the moon hung low, casting a soft silver sheen over the water, which shimmered like liquid glass in the calm evening air. you and baekhyun had set up shop at the poolside, the faint sounds of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance acting as a subtle soundtrack to the tension brewing between you two.

the flickering glow of your laptop screen illuminated your focused face, but baekhyun’s insistent whining kept cutting through the silence, forcing you to push back any sense of calm.

“ugh, seriously? we’ve been here for hours.” baekhyun groaned, stretching dramatically in his chair, the sound of his back cracking loudly as he leaned back. his eyes fluttered closed for a second as he let out a deep sigh. “this is hawaii, hawaii, and we're just sitting here... working? you can’t be serious, sweetheart.”

your eyes remained locked on your laptop screen, fingers flying over the keys as you typed away. “it’s called responsibility, baekhyun,” you muttered without looking up, your voice dripping with subtle sarcasm. “though, given how little you seem to know about it, i’m not exactly surprised that word isn’t in your vocabulary.”

he groaned again, this time pushing his chair back with a squeak that sent a shiver through the otherwise still night. he stood up, stretching his arms above his head, his body languid and exaggerated in every movement. his pout was theatrical, like a child who hadn’t gotten his way. “but i didn’t come all the way here to work the entire time,” he whined, his voice almost teasing, “especially when we could be out there enjoying the beach, having fun. we’re just gonna stare at spreadsheets and powerpoints the whole damn time? come on, sweets, let’s at least take a walk on the beach for a bit. i hear there’s a cool bar down there... just down the way. you deserve a break.”

he’s right. you can feel the strain in your eyes and the thought of a cold piña colada from the bar sounds like the perfect remedy right now. “fine,” you snap, your voice sharp, cutting through the tension. “but we have deadlines, baekhyun. we can't lose out on this merger just because you wanna fuck around and—”

your sentence is abruptly interrupted when you stand to gather your things, unintentionally bumping into baekhyun in the process.

he stumbles backward, his arms flailing in a frantic attempt to regain balance. his eyes go wide in exaggerated mock horror, a grin tugging at his lips. and then—PLOP!—he crashes straight into the pool, fully clothed, the sudden splash sending a wave of water over the edge, soaking the surrounding area.

you froze, your mouth dropping open in shock. “oh my god, baekhyun! i didn’t mean to—”

baekhyun surfaced, his drenched hair clinging to his forehead as he wiped the water from his face with a laugh. “really? you accidentally pushed me into the pool?” his voice dripped with amusement, the playful glint in his eyes only making him more insufferable.

you instinctively extended your hand, guilt rising in your chest. “i’m sorry! here, let me help you out.”

but baekhyun had other plans. before you could react, he seized your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, and tugged you toward him with a mischievous glint in his eye. “oh no, sweetheart, you’re not getting off that easy.”

a startled gasp escaped you as you stumbled toward the pool’s edge. in one swift motion, baekhyun yanked you into the water with him. the cold hit you like a shockwave, your body stiffening as the chill enveloped you, leaving your heart racing.

you froze for a split second, panic surging through you as the cold water surrounded you. “baekhyun!” you sputtered, your voice shaky as your heart pounded in your chest. “i-i can't swim!”

without hesitation, baekhyun’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you effortlessly against his chest. his body was warm against yours, his presence grounding in a way that made your head spin. “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice calm and soothing, but with an edge of something playful. “i’ve got you.”

his grip was firm, almost possessive, and it only intensified the heat flooding your cheeks. your body pressed so close to his, it felt impossible to breathe without feeling the weight of his every movement. you squirmed a little, trying to pull away, but his hold remained unyielding. “i swear, i’m gonna kill you,” you muttered through gritted teeth, frustration rising in your chest.

baekhyun’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest, low and teasing, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “if you kill me, princess,” he whispered, his breath warm and distracting against the side of your face, “you’re goin’ down with me.” his voice dropped to a mockingly romantic tone. “kinda poetic, though, don’t ya think? like romeo and juliet.”

before you could respond, the sliding glass door to jongin’s room swung open, and his voice rang out, breaking through the tension. “if you two are going to have sex in the pool, i’m calling security!” he yelled.

you froze, your cheeks burning as your embarrassment peaked. you were so done with baekhyun.

baekhyun, on the other hand, only laughed louder, his chest rumbling beneath your hands. “what?! can’t a man fuck his girl in peace? knew you were an asshole, but didn’t know you’d be a fuckin’ cockblock, too!”

you pushed against his chest, desperately trying to break free, the words slipping from your lips in a breathless hiss. “i swear, i'm going to kill you.”

and just like that, it was as if the spell that had bound the two of you together shattered, leaving everything heavy and tense. before he could even react, you were already grabbing your things, fleeing back toward the suite with a hurried, frantic urgency. leaving him behind and very, very alone.

the soft hum of the hotel room’s air conditioner was the only sound filling the space as you nestled deeper into the plush sheets, a gentle sigh escaping your lips. the warm water of the shower had relaxed your muscles, the exhaustion from the day melting away with each droplet. wrapped in a fluffy robe, you felt cozy in the bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a peaceful light around the room.

you absentmindedly took another sip from your glass of water, the coolness of it soothing your dry throat. the day had been long, filled with endless emails and phone calls, and tomorrow’s presentation with kim corp. lingered in your mind like a weight you couldn’t shake. you’d be expected to nail it. your mind buzzed with all the things that could go wrong, all the ways you might stumble.

baekhyun returned to the room quietly, his footsteps barely audible against the soft carpet. he entered, holding a pineapple-shaped glass filled with a creamy piña colada, the faint scent of coconut and rum reaching you before he even spoke. his gaze immediately found you, and that ever-present, playful grin tugged at his lips.

“a peace offering,” he said casually, stepping closer, his voice gentle but full of the usual teasing warmth. “for the whole, y’know, pool incident earlier.”

you shot him a half-hearted glance, barely meeting his eyes. you could hear the slight edge of frustration in your own voice when you responded. “you didn’t have to drag me into the pool like that.”

baekhyun chuckled, his eyes bright with that mischievous glint. “maybe not, but it was fun, wasn’t it?”

you let out a sigh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement tugging at your lips, a reluctant smile curling despite yourself. baekhyun set the piña colada down on the bedside table with a soft clink, then proceeded to strip off his clothes. you quickly turned your gaze to the side, trying your best not to look, but god, it was nearly impossible not to glance. his body was a work of art—toned muscles, perfectly sculpted. even in the soft light of the room, the sight of him was enough to make your breath hitch. you forced your attention elsewhere, trying to keep your thoughts in check, but it was hard to ignore the way your body reacted.

he walked toward the bathroom, his steps sure and confident, and the sound of running water soon filled the space. you exhaled, attempting to push those thoughts from your mind, but it wasn’t easy. a few moments later, the sound of the water stopped, and the bathroom door creaked open. baekhyun emerged, freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and tousled, the scent of soap and shampoo lingering in the air. he wore nothing more than a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, but even in the most casual clothes, he still looked effortlessly stunning.

it was fucking infuriating.

he slid into the bed beside you with his usual ease, like it was second nature to him, yet his eyes didn’t stray from you. they lingered, observing you with that familiar intensity. you could feel his gaze on you, but you refused to meet it. something about the way he was looking at you made your heart race, and you didn’t know if it was the exhaustion from the day or the way he seemed to have an unspoken understanding of everything.

the pillow wall, once a physical barrier, seemed to stretch into something more now. as he shifted closer, his gaze flicked over you—keen, observant, knowing. his eyes softened slightly, as if sensing the quiet tension still holding you.

you didn’t need to look at him to know he was watching. you bit your lip, furrowing your brow, lost in thoughts that weighed heavier than you let on. of course, baekhyun noticed. he noticed everything about you. the way your shoulders were slightly hunched, the tightness in your jaw, the way your fingers gripped the edge of the blanket just a little too hard.

he shifted, leaning toward you with a gentle, reassuring smile, his voice low and smooth as he spoke. “y’know... you did great today. we both did.” his hand hovered just shy of the pillow wall, like he wanted to close the space but didn’t push. “and we’ll do great tomorrow too. you always do.”

you met his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, his words cut through the whirl of your thoughts like a breath of fresh air. you felt the tension in your shoulders ease, the grip on the blanket loosening as you let out a long, slow breath. “you always say that,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips, though it was almost fond.

you couldn’t help but remember how baekhyun had always been the first to notice when you were nervous before presentations or meetings. he’d show up early, stand next to you, and assure you that you were going to crush it, always with that playful glint in his eye. at the time, you took it as nothing more than sarcasm, a part of his usual flirting. but now, as his words settled in your chest, a realization hit you. maybe—just maybe—he’d always been genuine. even when he was a flirtatious bastard.

baekhyun’s smile deepened, his eyes softening in that rare, vulnerable way you’d only ever seen in private moments. “’cus it’s true. you always pull through, no matter how much you’re stressing. you’ve got this. don’t let it eat you up.” the sincerity in his tone sent a ripple through you, and for the first time, you wondered if there was more to him than just the cocky, teasing persona he showed to the world.

you didn’t respond at first, your heart racing with the weight of tomorrow’s pressure. but his words, those simple, honest words, had a way of grounding you. slowly, you turned your head toward him, no longer worried about the invisible wall that still seemed to separate you. you didn’t need to say anything. his presence alone was enough to make you feel like you weren’t carrying the weight of it all alone.

baekhyun didn’t move any closer, but the space between you felt smaller somehow. his gaze remained steady on yours, the soft glow of the room casting gentle shadows across his features. he wasn’t going to let you carry it all on your own. and somehow, that reassurance settled your nerves more than anything.

the tension that had clouded the room seemed to dissipate, leaving a quiet, comfortable silence between you two. you finally took a sip of your piña colada, the cold sweetness of it sliding down your throat, and for the first time in hours, you allowed yourself to relax.

baekhyun’s voice broke the silence, playful as ever. “and don’t worry. if you need me to bail you out tomorrow, i’ll be right there, by your side. y’know i’m good at that.”

you chuckled softly, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your shoulders. “i’m sure you’ll find a way to ‘help,’ baekhyun.”

he grinned, his hand reaching out to briefly touch the edge of your pillow, just enough to let you know he was there. “always do, sweetheart. always do.”

and for the first time this entire trip, you felt like you might actually be able to sleep.

baekhyun leaned back in his chair, eyes unfocused as he traced the pattern on the desk with his finger, his mind drifting. the memory came flooding back—three years ago, the first day you’d officially stepped into the role of head of marketing at inb100.

it was a strange, almost surreal day for him. kyungsoo, as usual, was directing everyone around with his quiet but unyielding authority. sehun and chanyeol were up on ladders, struggling to hang a banner that said welcome new head of marketing! the sight made baekhyun roll his eyes as he watched them fumble with the task, then leaned back in his chair to speak up.

“aww, you guys shouldn’t have. but i’ve already been here for a couple years now,” baekhyun jokes, grinning as he glanced over at kyungsoo. “also, i’m in finance, not marketing.”

kyungsoo didn’t even look up from his clipboard, his voice as dry as ever. “always the idiot, aren’t you, baekhyun?”

baekhyun’s grin faltered, his thoughts momentarily stalled as the weight of the greeting on the banner settled in. new head of marketing. it hadn’t crossed his mind much before, but now, the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. kyungsoo didn’t seem to care at all, his focus entirely on whatever task was in front of him. but baekhyun couldn’t shake the nagging curiosity gnawing at him. who would fill that role? would they fit into the mold of everyone else? or would they stand out, make waves? he wasn’t sure why it mattered, but it did.

“have you met the new head yet?” baekhyun asked, his voice a little sharper than he intended.

kyungsoo didn’t even glance up, still engrossed in whatever was on his clipboard. “nope, not yet,” he replied flatly. “but i hear she's real good.”

‘she’, huh?

baekhyun hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against the desk. “you think if she’ll be like the others? you know? just another cog in the machine. or maybe something different... a ‘yes man’ like chanyeol, always eager tobe on minseok’s good side? or maybe a hardass, like you, kyungsoo?”

baekhyun continued, his words flowing out without much thought. but kyungsoo had already tuned him out, lost in his own world as usual, the conversation no longer holding any of his attention. baekhyun's voice trailed off as he realized no one was listening. he let out a small sigh, his thoughts lingering on the possibility.

but he quickly shrugged it off, dismissing the unease that began to coil in his chest. there was no point in getting worked up over it. the new head of marketing would probably just be another face, another name to add to the roster. nothing more.

he stood up and made his way over to the table, where an assortment of snacks lay—muffins, fresh fruit, coffee, all neatly arranged for the team to graze on. his stomach growled in protest, and he didn’t hesitate to grab a muffin, devouring it quickly without caring about the crumbs that fell carelessly onto his shirt.

he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, content for the moment, until a soft, confident voice cut through his haze.

“excuse me, do you mind if i grab one of those?”

baekhyun froze, fully expecting some random in marketing awaiting the new head’s arrival by grabbing a small snack.

but then he saw you.

his breath caught.

baekhyun swears he’d fallen in love at that moment.

you were everything he hadn’t anticipated—graceful, composed, with an effortless elegance that radiated from you. there was an air of quiet authority that surrounded you, impossible to ignore. you didn’t look like a typical office worker, much less someone in charge of marketing. no, you were too striking, too captivating to be confined to this place. had you ever considered modeling? baekhyun wondered, his mind running a little wild at the thought of you in front of cameras instead of spreadsheets.

you looked...different. better than anything he’d imagined. and just for a second, he felt like he was in the presence of something rare, something far beyond his typical workday.

his mouth went dry, a rush of heat flooding his face as he quickly forced a smile, trying to mask the surprise that hit him all at once. “uh, of course, go ahead,” he said, his voice a little strained as he stepped aside, maybe a little too quickly, to give you space.

you glanced at him, the corners of your mouth twitching into a subtle smirk, eyes glinting with amusement. “thanks,” you said, reaching for a muffin, your voice light and playful. “by the way, nice try with the whole ‘i’ve been here for years’ thing. thought it was kinda cute.” you paused, your gaze lifting to meet his, the challenge in your eyes sharp and clear. “but, what was it you said afterwards? wondering if i’m a 'yes-man' or a hardass?”

baekhyun blinked, completely thrown off guard. his stomach did an unexpected flip, and his heart rate picked up. how the hell had you read him so easily? it rattled him more than he was willing to admit. he hadn’t expected you to catch on so quickly, and the realization hit harder than he cared to admit. “i... uh... maybe i was,” he stammered, his confidence momentarily slipping, but then he quickly regained his composure. a grin spread across his face as he tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “but i’m relieved to see you’re not a hardass...at least not yet.”

you took a slow, deliberate bite of the muffin, raising an eyebrow as you held his gaze. “yeah, we’ll see,” you replied, your tone smooth and teasing. “but i’m not here to be anyone’s 'yes-man.'”

the tension in his chest melted away as a genuine laugh escaped him. there was something about the way you carried yourself that both intrigued and unsettled him. most people were easy to read, predictable—but not you. you weren’t someone he could figure out in one conversation, and for some reason, that only made him more curious.

god, you were exactly what he'd always dreamed of. seriously, his ideal.

and even now, you still felt like a dream—especially now, standing in front of him on your third day in hawaii. your fingers absently twisted through your hair as you studied your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “ugh, i hope it’s not over the top. how do i look?”

so fucking perfect, as always, is what he wanted to say.

but instead, he nudged your shoulder from where he was lounging in the office chair, the two of you waiting in the spacious meeting room before the ceo of kim corp and his partner. flashing you a teasing grin, he shrugged nonchalantly. “y’look fine, sweetheart. but, y’know, not quite as good as me.”

he couldn't help but savor the way your punch landed on his arm, the familiar warmth of your smile spreading across your face once again. it was the kind of smile that had started to feel like a constant, one he could easily picture lighting up his days if you'd let him.

“yeah, right. you can’t even tie this thing properly,” you teased, reaching over with quick fingers to fix his crooked tie. “see? much better,” you added, a proud smile tugging at your lips.

he chuckled, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink as that smile of yours worked its magic, making his heart stutter. leaning in closer, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “if you wanted to get your hands on me, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart. oh wait, you kinda did last night, didn’t you? i seem to recall someone ignoring their little pillow wall.”

“oh, shut up,” you glared at him, though the smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth betrayed your annoyance. “that was so embarrassing.”

baekhyun leaned casually against the conference table, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes. he was about to open his mouth, clearly ready to say something—something that would no doubt make you roll your eyes and laugh at his audacity—but just as he parted his lips, the door to the meeting room swung open with a sudden swiftness.

you both quickly snapped to attention, rising from your chairs to greet the mogul.

in walked junmyeon, the ceo of kim corp., impeccably dressed in his usual tailored suit, followed by none other than his trusted right-hand man. the air in the room immediately shifted—junmyeon exuded an air of quiet authority, while his partner’s presence was a magnetic pull that seemed to command attention effortlessly. but it wasn’t their professional demeanor that caught you off guard.

it was the moment jongin’s eyes landed on you.

a split second of recognition flickered across his face, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. he glanced between you and baekhyun, his expression turning from curiosity to disbelief. his lips parted, and the unmistakable shock was clear in his voice.

“wait... no fucking way.” jongin's eyes darted between you and baekhyun, disbelief written all over his face as the three of you stood there, mouths practically on the floor. “you two?”

your heart skipped a beat, the sudden jolt of recognition freezing you in place. baekhyun, too, went rigid, his usual confident demeanor faltering for a moment as he tried to process what had just happened. his expression went blank, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he, too, scrambled to make sense of the situation.

your mind raced, trying to make sense of the tangled web of connections. junmyeon, the ceo of kim corp., was already making his way toward the table, completely unaware of the tension hanging in the air. his presence was commanding, as usual, but today, his stride felt slightly out of sync with the uneasy atmosphere he was about to walk into.

as he reached the table, junmyeon paused for a split second, glancing between you and baekhyun with a raised brow. “ah,” he said with a smile, clearly oblivious to the awkwardness. “so you three know each other? well, this should be easy then.” he casually unbuttoned his blazer, the movement smooth and confident, before taking a seat across from you both. his tone was light, almost amused, as he gestured for jongin to sit beside him.

jongin, still looking between you and baekhyun with that same perplexed expression, slid into the seat next to junmyeon, his eyes never fully leaving the two of you. you could practically feel the weight of his unasked questions hanging in the air, and it only made the situation feel more surreal.

you sat frozen for a moment, trying to regain your bearings, while baekhyun seemed to settle back into his usual cool, collected self.

“so, about this merger…” junmyeon starts.

the meeting had concluded with impressive efficiency. presentations delivered, contracts laid out neatly in front of junmyeon, everything falling into place perfectly. as he stood up from the table, he gave you all a brief, reassuring smile. “i’ll just make a quick call to the board members—unfortunately, their flight got canceled back in new york, which was why they weren't able to attend today. it's too bad. they're missing out on the beautiful weather here,” he added with a light chuckle before heading for the door.

the door clicked shut behind him, and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. you felt the tension crackle almost immediately.

jongin was the first to speak, his voice low, but dripping with that signature sarcasm that could make even the most confident of people cringe. “i can't believe this,” he said, eyes flicking between you and baekhyun. his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long, the corner of his mouth lifting in disbelief. “you two are supposed to be here on a business trip AND you're also dating? really?” he scoffed, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, instinctively glancing at baekhyun. he was leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, expression unreadable.

jongin seemed to relish in the discomfort that had settled in the air. “you both are seriously going to get fired,” he continued, a wicked grin playing at his lips. “i’m telling minseok. you’ll both be out of a job faster than you can fucking blink.”

"i don’t recall there being anything in our employee contracts that forbade us from dating our coworkers." baekhyun tensed beside you, his posture rigid, as if he were ready to swing the moment you gave the word.

jongin’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards, his voice dipping into something low and bitter. “back when you and i were still together,” he drawled, his gaze flickering between the two of you with mock interest, “i remember how much you complained about baekhyun. god, you really couldn’t stand him.” amusement dripped from his words as he turned his attention to baekhyun, a smirk tugging at his lips. “funny how things change, huh?”

a flash of something—was it irritation? amusement?—passed over baekhyun’s face, but he stayed silent, allowing jongin to continue.

jongin's smirk deepened as the silence stretched on. “you’d be better off with me than this ‘incompetent little shit’, as you like to put it,” he said casually, like it was no big deal. his tone, though, was as sharp as ever, and you could tell he was testing both you and baekhyun—waiting to see how far he could push.

jongin's words hung in the air like a challenge, but before you could even process your reaction, baekhyun spoke, his voice smooth but laced with a dry humor that you knew all too well.

“yeah, i'm sure she told you about all the things i did to piss her off.” he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, the playful glint never quite leaving. “y'know, the stuff that made her so mad she couldn’t even look at me without wanting to throw something at my head.”

you rolled your eyes, not at all surprised by baekhyun's tendency to casually brush off every slight, but something about his tone made it clear he wasn’t rattled by jongin's comments.

he leaned forward slightly, his gaze flicking back to you, and a smirk tugged at his lips. “honestly, it’s not like i didn’t deserve it,” he continued with an easy shrug. “she hated me back then. hell, she probably still can’t stand me now.”

you glance at baekhyun, your brows knitting together in uncertainty, unsure of where he’s going with this. the air between the three of you feels charged, a quiet tension bubbling just beneath the surface. you open your mouth, ready to steer the conversation into safer waters, to defuse whatever this is before it spirals.

but then baekhyun speaks, his voice low and laced with a cocky edge that sends a ripple through the room. “i love pressing her buttons, though,” he says, his eyes flickering with mischief as he leans back, utterly unbothered. “she’s fucking hot when she’s pissed off.”

“what the hell?” jongin starts, his eyes darting between you both in disbelief. you could practically feel the heat rising in your cheeks, already overwhelmed by the absurdity of this whole interaction. “and you? you're just... fine with this? how the hell do you deal with him when i never got the time of day for even being mildly annoying to you?”

before you can even open your mouth to respond, baekhyun’s already stepping in, his voice laced with amusement, completely unfazed by the situation. "well, we fuck it out, of course," he says casually, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "oh! did she find you that repulsive that she wouldn’t even touch you when she’s pissed? aw, couldn’t be me."

jongin’s jaw dropped slightly, his face scrunching in a mixture of irritation and disbelief. “this is... ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, clearly done with the back-and-forth.

it was as if you were saved by the bell when the door suddenly swung open, and in walked junmyeon, his bright smile lighting up the room. “alright, everything's all good with the board. let’s get to signing.” he says, his tone cheerful and confident.

jongin, however, wasn't having it. he stood up, his frustration palpable as he interjected, “junmyeon, you can’t be serious. we can’t be doing business with these scumbags!”

junmyeon’s expression tightened for a split second, his calm demeanor shifting just enough to send a sharp, pointed glance in jongin’s direction—a look that unmistakably conveyed enough. “that’s enough out of you, jongin,” he said, his voice low and steady, yet carrying an undeniable authority. the words cut through the building tension in the room, effectively silencing it. “you’ll have to excuse my business partner here. he’s obviously not in his right head. maybe still jet lagged?”

after that, everything seemed like a blur—contracts were signed, signatures hastily scribbled in all the right places, and baekhyun, ever the troublemaker, took every opportunity to make faces at jongin from behind junmyeon’s back. the tension in the room was almost palpable as you tried to keep your focus on the task at hand.

then, with a casual smile, junmyeon added, “oh, and you two must have lunch with us soon now that we’re official partners. i’m sure the board would be quite pleased with you two.” the words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and you could practically feel jongin's discomfort radiating from across the room.

baekhyun, never one to miss a chance to stoke the fire, couldn’t resist. with that infuriatingly smug grin of his, he leaned forward, voice dripping with playful confidence. “of course, my girlfriend and i would love to,” he said just loud enough for jongin—exiled to a nearby table—to seethe in barely contained irritation. “won’t we, sweetheart?”

as the meeting wrapped up, junmyeon stood, his smile practically glowing with excitement. “i can’t think of a better way to start the new year than with this partnership,” he said, his tone warm and genuine. “thank you both for your hard work and dedication, especially during the holidays. i know this isn’t ideal timing—most people would rather be with their families right now.” he paused, glancing between you and baekhyun. “but at least you two have each other to ring in the new year tonight. that’s something, isn’t it?”

his words lingered, and you felt a strange mix of guilt and gratitude as you glanced at baekhyun, who, despite his usual antics, offered you a small, genuine smile.

and just like that, you found yourself gripping baekhyun by the lapels of his suit, half dragging, half stumbling as the two of you careened into the room. your head buzzed from the whirlwind of the night—the thrill of the merger officially sealed, the celebratory drinks at the beach bar baekhyun wouldn’t stop raving about, and the heady mix of alcohol and adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“careful now, sweetheart,” baekhyun chuckled, his voice warm and teasing as you both tripped over each other’s unsteady steps, the door swinging shut behind you. “can’t go ruining our streak now. wouldn’t want to kill each other on our last day, right? we’ve been on such a roll.”

his grin was infectious, and despite your mild frustration at his antics, you couldn’t help but laugh. the way he looked at you—mischief twinkling in his eyes, his tie loosened just enough to reveal the carefree confidence he wore so well—made your head spin.

“hey, baekhyun?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, as you glance over at him.

“yeah, sweets?” he responds casually, toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket, his movements unhurried as if the weight of the evening hadn’t touched him at all.

he pauses, his back turned to you as he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt. then, slowly, he turns, a lazy smirk already tugging at the corners of his lips. “what, you didn’t like it?”

“that’s not—” you huff, crossing your arms, feeling the warmth of the alcohol make your words clumsier than usual. “that’s not the point, baekhyun. i just… wanna know why.”

he takes a step closer, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he tilts his head, studying you with that maddeningly playful expression of his. “because it’s fun watching you squirm,” he says simply, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that lingers unspoken between you.

“you’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrays you.

he lets out a soft chuckle, stepping closer until there's barely any space between you. “maybe,” he says, his voice dipping into a low murmur. he steps in even closer, his hand sliding effortlessly to your waist, pulling you just a bit nearer. “or maybe... i just like the way it sounds. my girlfriend.”

for the first time in either of your lives, you look up at baekhyun with something entirely new in your eyes. there’s a pink tint dusting your cheeks, softening the sharpness of your usual quips, and a sparkle in your gaze that practically screams that, to you, baekhyun puts the stars in the sky.

the sight freezes him in place. his confidence, always at an all-time high, suddenly falters. your expression, so full of quiet awe, makes his chest tighten and—god help him—his dick twitch in response. he coughs awkwardly, breaking eye contact and quickly retreating behind a mask of playful bravado.

“anyway,” he blurts, voice a little higher than usual, “did you see jongin’s face after? priceless. he looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.”

his deflection is so blatant it’s almost laughable, but you let it slide. the memory of jongin’s ashen face pulls a giggle from you, light and giddy, and baekhyun leans in just a little, clearly relieved that you’ve let him off the hook—for now.

“oh my god, yes!” you laugh, your words tumbling out between breaths as you press him back against the wall to steady yourselves. you’re drunk—on the victory, on the night, and maybe, just maybe, a little on him. “jongin looked like he was going to fucking explode.”

“see, sweetheart?” baekhyun’s grin is back, his cocky edge sharpened by your laughter. his arms wrap around you, drawing you closer in what could pass for a congratulatory hug. or, at least, that’s how it starts. “told ya i’d remind him you’re with now.”

but his hands settle lower than they should, fingertips pressing into the curve of your hips in a way that feels decidedly more possessive than celebratory. neither of you say anything about it, the moment hanging heavy in the air, charged with an electricity that neither of you can quite bring yourselves to disrupt.

“don’t even know why you dated that fuckin’ bozo in the first place,” baekhyun drawls, his voice dripping with smugness. his lips curl into a lopsided grin, the kind that always sparks a mix of irritation and amusement in you. “he’s not even in your league.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes with dramatic flair. “oh, gee, thanks. really boosting my self-esteem here.”

“no, no. not like that,” he says, his tone shifting as he leans in. his fingers catch your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes lock onto his. and god, his gaze—dark, hungry, and laced with something unspoken—sends a tremor straight through you. “don’t ever think it’s that way, stupid. you’re too gorgeous for him. besides,” he adds with a wicked grin, “he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

the laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, a mix of disbelief and amusement. but you recover quickly, your lips curling into a sly smirk as you counter, “well, he did find it.”

his expression shifts in an instant. the playful glint in his eyes dims, replaced by something darker, sharper. his brows knit together, and his jaw ticks as he processes your words, the muscle there working overtime. it’s satisfying—watching him squirm, just a little.

“but,” you say, leaning in close, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, your voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper, “wanna hear a secret?”

he doesn’t speak—doesn’t even breathe, it seems. he gives a short, barely-there nod, his body tensing under the weight of your words.

“he still never made me cum.”

his body stills entirely, as if your words have short-circuited him. his eyes bore into yours, searching for some sign of a joke, but all he finds is your growing smile.

“...never?” he finally breathes, the single word heavy with disbelief and something dangerously close to anger.

you lean back just enough to catch every flicker of emotion in his face, your grin widening as you deliver the final blow. “never.”

the air between you shifts, heavy and charged, as the weight of your confession lingers. you expect baekhyun to retort with his usual quick wit, some snarky comment that’ll have you rolling your eyes.

“i could,” he breathes, the words almost shaky, like he’s barely holding himself together. his breaths are ragged, his chest rising and falling faster than you’ve seen all night.

you blink, tilting your head in confusion, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone. “what?”

his eyes find yours, dark and unwavering, and he repeats himself, this time with a cocky edge curling his lips into that smirk you know too well. “i could made you cum, y’know.” he leans in, his voice thick with confidence and something more primal.

his words send a shiver down your spine, but there’s a part of you—a defiant, playful part—that refuses to give in so easily. raising a brow, you let a sultry smirk spread across your lips. “is that an offer?”

the reaction is instant. baekhyun’s arms loop around your waist, pulling you flush against him with a grip that’s almost too tight, the kind that borders on possessive. you could swear you hear your bones protest, but you don’t care. not when his eyes are burning into you like this, not when his lips hover so close you can feel the heat radiating off them.

“it’s a promise, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with a hunger that makes your breath catch, sending a wave of heat crashing through you. the words land heavy in the air between you, and his unwavering gaze locks with yours, the intensity in his eyes almost enough to make your knees give way.

oh, that’s all you needed to hear—everything you’d been craving. and he knows it. he sees the way your skin prickles with goosebumps, how your body reacts to him without even trying. the way your lips part just slightly, almost like an invitation, and he swears he can hear that soft, syrupy tone in your voice before you even speak it.

“prove it to me then,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your eyes, daring him to follow through.

in that moment, the fireworks erupted in the distance, their deafening roar ringing in the new year as baekhyun’s lips crashed into yours with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. it wasn’t gentle or deliberate—nothing like the soft, romantic kisses you’d imagined. this was raw, primal, as if an invisible force had pulled you together, unrelenting and inevitable. every frantic press of his lips against yours felt like an explosion, a desperate, magnetic connection that neither of you could fight.

it was unlike anything you’d ever expected from byun baekhyun—no boundaries, no rules, just the overwhelming sensation of drowning in each other, caught in a storm of heat and desperation. he kissed you like you were his air, like he couldn’t get enough, and he was willing to hold his breath forever if it meant keeping you close.

his tongue swept into your mouth, exploring every corner, every inch of your lips with frantic need, as if he’d been starved of this moment for far too long. it was as if he’d forgotten how to breathe, drowning in the intensity of it, but never daring to stop, afraid that the second he did, he’d lose you.

and then, the fireworks in the distance—their loud, overwhelming explosions—felt like the very way he kissed you: impossible to ignore. each burst in the sky mirrored the fierce, unrelenting clash of your lips, echoing with intensity and raw need. the vibrant lights, fleeting yet brilliant, lit up the dark sky, just like the way his mouth claimed yours, igniting heat in your veins.

with every pop and crackle of the fireworks, his kiss deepened, more frantic, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. the colors above—bright, burning, alive—seemed to reflect the way he touched you, his hands pulling you closer, his tongue moving with desperation that matched the chaos of the display. it was a beautiful, reckless collision of sound and motion, and for that brief moment, nothing else existed. it was just you, just him, and the fire in his kiss, mirroring the explosion of fireworks lighting up the sky.

“ah, fuck—” baekhyun hisses, his voice low and strained as he pulls back just a fraction, delicate strings of spit snapping between you. his dark eyes drink you in, glossy and dazed with your lips swollen and glistening from his. “ya don’t know how long i’ve wanted to taste those lips of yours, sweetheart. i swear.”

he kisses you again and again, as though he couldn’t possibly stop, as though stopping might shatter him. his lips, his tongue—he’s everywhere, consuming and relentless, pulling soft moans from your throat when he slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. you’re dizzy with it, drunk on the taste of him and the faint, familiar sweetness of those strawberry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room. and now? now, you’re the one he can’t get enough of, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

he pulls back slightly, his gaze capturing every soft sound that escapes your lips as his large hands knead your body through the fabric of your dress.

“ba-baekhy—” you gasp out, the words stumbling over your lips when he flips you, pressing you against the wall. his lips assault yours in a frenzy, peck after heated peck, desperate and needy. “what do you—mean—”

he groans, the sound rumbling in his chest as his lips trail down the quivering curve of your throat. “just… kiss me. damn, for someone who has such a gorgeous mouth, you sure talk too much, sweetheart.”

oh, and that was rich coming from him—though you barely get the chance to snap back at him before he’s already over it, deciding he’s done with all the teasing. if he’d even been teasing at all, that is.

in an instant, his hands are at the cold metal zipper of your dress, tugging it down with an easy motion, the fabric following with it as it pools around your waist, revealing more than you’re ready for. fuck, when did he even unclip your bra?

“you—” you try to speak, but the cool air in the room sends a shiver down your spine, your nipples hardening in the chill. the sensation only intensifies when you feel his stiff arousal pressing against your side, sending a hot rush of heat to flood your core. it’s more than just words now, and you feel the undeniable truth of it, the tightening in your thighs as you unconsciously squeeze them together. you shoot him a sharp, questioning look, your breath faltering slightly. “you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

baekhyun flashes you that familiar, mischievous grin, and his large hands move to cup your breasts, his touch heavy and possessive. “wanna know how many times i’ve pictured this, sweetheart? go ahead, ask.”

“no,” you answer quickly, though your voice trembles just slightly.

“why not?” he teases, his gaze dark and intense.

“‘cus you haven’t,” you respond, your words more a challenge than a statement.

without any warning, his hand comes down hard, a sharp slap landing on the soft curve of your ass. the sting leaves a fiery trail as his fingers linger, pressing firmly through the fabric of your dress, now hiked even higher.

“always have to talk back, don’t you?” baekhyun spits the words, his knee pressing between your legs. his grin, so innocently handsome, spreads across his face as he notices the soft moan that slips from your lips. he grinds against you purposefully, feeling your body shift under him. “why won’t ya ever, hah—believe me?”

his hand yanks your dress down, down, down, while the other forces your hips against his thick, muscled thigh. “let’s try that again,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eye, “ask me like the good girl you are.”

you swallow hard, fighting the instinct to push back, to refuse him. instead, your body betrays you, moving with desperation as you feel yourself grinding helplessly against his thigh. a whimper escapes your lips when his hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back to force you to look at him.

you swallow hard, your voice trembling as you ask, “h-how many times have you pictured this, baekhyun?”

“lost count after your first month on the job, sweetheart,” he mutters, his voice thick with hunger, a dark, almost predatory smile curling on his lips.

you want to fight it. you want to resist, be bratty, rebellious. but your body betrays you, moving on its own, too far gone to even think clearly. the way you grind against him, needy and filthy, makes you feel like you're losing control, sinking deeper into the heat of desire that surges through you.

baekhyun watches you, his grin darkening as his hands take hold of your hips, guiding you to grind harder, faster, pushing you to drown in the overwhelming sensations. “yeah, that’s it,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “that’s my girl. a secret for a secret, right?”

his words hang in the air, heavy with intent. “remember that time i ‘slept’ through the whole meeting?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, then sinking into your lobe with a sharp bite. “nah, wasn’t sleepin’.”

his tongue traces the spot he just bit, slow and teasing, his voice dropping even lower. “it’s just... i couldn’t stop staring at that cute little skirt you wore that day. so fucking short, so tight. couldn’t bring myself to face anyone, not after i spent the entire night with my hand around my cock, thinking about all the sweet, filthy things i could do to you.”

“god, you're so fucking nasty,” you gasp, your breath coming in shallow bursts.

“yeah, i know,” baekhyun purrs, his fingers dancing over the hem of your dress, the fabric now hanging loosely at your thighs. “don't pretend you're all innocent when you wear somethin’ like this underneath. drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy. how'd ya know red’s my favorite color?"

you didn’t.

his finger glides across the lace of your red panties, feeling the dampness through the fabric. he groans, deep and satisfied. “yeah, thought so... just as dirty as i imagined.”

with his theory proven, baekhyun hooks one arm beneath your trembling thighs, lifting you effortlessly. you let out a desperate sound when he smacks your ass hard, the sting sharp and delicious. “baekhyun!” you cry, your body arching against him instinctively.

“oh, i love that. say it again,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he steps slowly toward the edge of your shared bed. he takes his time, savoring the feeling of your drooling cunt soaking through, leaving a small dark patch on his suit. “i said, say it again.”

all it takes is a sharp slap to your ass and the honeyed drag of his name on your lips to make baekhyun splay you out like some desperate slut on the soft, silken sheets. your hands instinctively grab at his broad shoulders when he pauses, taking a moment to admire just how breathtaking you look. even better than any fantasy his mind could conjure.

“baekhyun,” you mewl, and he licks his lips, eyes glazed, entranced by the sight of you. he's unsure where to focus—on the needy, cockdrunk look in your eyes, the way your flimsy dress clings to the plushness of your thighs, or the glistening patch on your cunt, already wet and waiting. it’s all so mouthwatering. “baekhyu—ba—baek!”

the sound of your voice snaps him out of his daze. “what did you call me?” he breathes, his words low and ragged.

you bat your lashes at him innocently, feigning sweetness, “baekhy—”

“no.” he interrupts, his throat bobbing with a heavy gulp. his thumb presses against your puffy lips, dragging the same words out of you—wanting them to spill directly to his aching cock once more. “the other one. don’t play stupid with me, sweetheart. you know exactly what i’m talking about.”

oh, you do.

you feel your pussy clench, the anticipation building, and you whine out that little nickname again. “baek, please.” you add a slight quiver, just enough to make baekhyun’s lips curl into a soft “oh!” his breath catches, a low hiss escaping him as his hand instinctively moves to squeeze his bulging erection.

“oh yes, m'name sounds so fucking cute on your lips,” he groans. the sheets beneath you rustle with the movement as he urgently shifts lower, “sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna—”

RIP!

“—know if she sounds just as pretty as you do when you’re beggin’ for me.”

you're still reeling from the disarray left by your favorite dress, now reduced to a crumpled heap on the floor, the fabric torn and forgotten. a burst of irritation rises in your chest, your voice cutting through the air as you huff, “baekhyun, you're ngh—dead if you don’t replace that—”

before you can finish your threat, his hand strikes again, this time landing softly but deliberately on your inner thighs, where your skin is already heated with frustration. the edge of his fingers brushes your swollen folds, sending a shiver through you. “yeah, yeah,” he murmurs with a dark chuckle, “i'll buy you the whole fuckin' store if ya want me to.” his breath hovers over you, hot and teasing, as he leans in, his lips barely grazing your ear. “but first, ’m gonna make sure ya don’t dare call me that again.”

his words hang in the air, leaving you speechless—any retort you might have had is completely wiped from your mind as he leans in closer. his tongue, warm and daring, slides a slow, deliberate path up your slick folds, the sensation dragging a breathless whimper from your lips.

“look at that,” baekhyun murmurs, his chuckle dripping with amusement. he spreads your thighs further apart, greedily taking in the sight of your glistening arousal, shimmering under the dim light. “she’s more mouthy than you, if that’s even possible,” he adds, his voice a low taunt.

his tongue delves in once more, licking up your wetness in long, eager strokes. again and again, he teases and tastes, driving you toward the edge of madness.

“fuck—baek,” you gasp, your fingers threading through his soft hair as his tongue slips past your folds. a desperate arch rises from your spine, your body straining for more. “need you to—hngh—go faster.”

but all you get in response is his sultry, smug grin pressing against your trembling skin. his lips quirk up at the edges, his gaze locked on you with satisfaction. “so needy, sweetheart,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

“guess you’re all bark and no bite, huh?” you pout, your voice taking on a teasingly whiny edge, savoring the way the challenge flickers across baekhyun’s face. you watch as that cocky grin falls away, replaced by a look of frustration, and it’s almost too easy. “should i go next door and take jongin up on that offer?”

the words hang between you, sharp and goading, and you can practically see the shift in him—the way it twists his insides. before you can even take another breath, he’s yanking your legs apart, his face buried back between your thighs, his hot breath ghosting over your wet skin.

he’s relentless. his tongue slides up your throbbing slit, slow and deliberate, before it moves again, and again—up and down, teasing your sensitive folds with a rhythm that has you gasping in response. each stroke sends shivers racing through your body, but it’s the next move that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“f-fuck, oh baek-” you squeal when he suddenly pushes past that tight, resisting ring, his tongue plunging deep into you without hesitation, making your back arch off the bed. you hadn’t even had a chance to brace for it, the sudden stretch catching you off guard, leaving you gasping for air. “how are you in so deep—”

but baekhyun doesn’t answer. not with words, anyway. instead, his thumb glides up to your clit, pressing with slow, deliberate pressure. he circles it in methodical strokes, matching the frantic rhythm of his tongue, which buries itself deeper into your swollen walls, pulling more desperate sounds from your throat.

he’s messy—sloppy with the way your juices spill past his knuckles, dripping down his wrist, forming a glossy sheen that coats your thighs and the sheets beneath you. the cadence of his movements mirrors the hunger in his body, his relentless need to fuck you with his mouth the way he wishes he could with his cock.

you gasp, the sensation of his tongue sweeping up your clit sending a sharp jolt of pleasure running through you. it’s too much—too good—and before you can recover, he’s back at it, attacking that spot deep inside you, each stroke more determined than the last.

“f-fuck, s’too good,” you whimper, your hands clutching at the sheets as your body trembles beneath his. “fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is so—ngh—so good at this.”

a husky rasp of laughter escapes baekhyun’s throat, and before you can even react, he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm, his grip firm and unyielding. “don’t ya dare run away now,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with lust. “you’re so cute when you’re like this, sweetheart. not done with you yet.”

the vibrations of his voice send a shockwave through you, dragging a fevered moan from your lips. “baek! baek! baek!” it spills out of you, louder with each crash of his soft tongue against your most sensitive spots. his tongue moves with precision, swirling over your clit—harder at the tip, softer at the curve—each flick making you writhe in desperate pleasure.

“yeah—yeah, yeah, yeah,” he groans, his words punctuated by the wet sounds of his tongue and your tight walls. “say my name like that.” his voice hisses with fervor, his tongue pushing deeper, straining against the way you’re squeezing him so tight it’s almost too much. every movement, every flick of his tongue, becomes a battle, but baekhyun’s determination is unwavering. it doesn’t matter if his fingers are cramping or his tongue is growing tired—he’s relentless. “louder.”

“b-baek!” you gasp, your body trembling under him, but the need for more has your hips grinding desperately against him.

“no, no.” his voice drops into a growl, and before you can process it, something cool and glossy hits your cunt in a harsh glob. you flinch, but baekhyun’s thumb is already pressing the slickness in, mixing it with the mess below. the obscene squelches fill the room, and your cheeks burn as your ears ring with the sound. “hear this, sweetheart?” he taunts, his gaze dark and focused on you, savoring the way your body reacts. “she’s louder than you.”

your eyes lock with his as he’s buried deep between your legs, his favorite position. the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his touch, it all sends you spiraling further into desire.

“my girl can be loud f’me, right?” he pulls back slightly, only to slam his tongue back in with a ferocity that makes your body shake. “say my name, sweetheart. say it loud so the whole fuckin’ island hears.”

“baek! fuckfuckfuck—’m close,” it's the last coherent thing you can manage to moan before everything inside you unravels. wave after wave of filthy pleasure crashes over you, so intense it leaves you breathless. your hands grip his hair tighter, using it to anchor yourself as you rock your hips, grinding down deeper, desperate for more. each flick of his tongue sends jolts of electricity through you, stars exploding behind your eyelids, making your body tremble uncontrollably.

baekhyun, utterly satisfied, falls silent, letting you take control as you ride his face through your high. you're completely lost in the sensation, dragging your slick, messy pussy over his tongue, over his mouth—again and again. each movement is a mixture of urgency and surrender, your body writhing as the pleasure pulses through you, until there's nothing left but the overwhelming heat of it all.

“baek,” you murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from the way his breath hitches at the mere sound of your voice. his body trembles, and you feel a rush of power course through you. “your turn.”

getting rid of baekhyun’s pants feels like an eternity, each moment stretching, tantalizingly slow. you’re gasping for air when he finally rids himself of his dress pants—along with those boxers, soaked with precum and clinging to his skin like a sin. the slick trail he leaves down his thighs, glistening and sticky, only makes your pulse spike.

and if you thought baekhyun was beautiful before, you realize in this moment, he’s nothing short of a masterpiece—his body a perfect blend of smooth muscle and raw need, carved with such sinful allure that you’re almost overwhelmed.

you can’t resist the temptation to wrap your palm around his throbbing length, feeling the pulse beneath your fingers as he jerks against your touch, a slick sheen of precum coating your hand. and your mind wanders, wondering just how he'd taste too—how it would feel to have all of him.

“hold on right there, my dirty girl,” baekhyun groans, his voice strained and desperate as he gently tilts your head, his lips pressing soft, heated kisses to yours. “as much as—fuck—you're squeezing me so tight, as much as this has been everything i dreamed of since that office ice cream party… i know i’m gonna cum the second you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” his lips trail to your lower lip, sucking gently, possessively. “and you’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

you smirk, a playful glint in your eyes as you tease him, “not gonna let you live down that ice cream party, either, baek.”

his devilish smile flickers before he pulls you closer, steadying your hips with his hands as he pulls you into his lap. he spreads your legs wide, positioning you over his weeping tip, the heat of him already seeping into your skin. “oh, fuck off,” he mutters, voice thick with lust.

you hiss as you feel his warm breath against your sensitive pussy lips, the anticipation making you ache for more. “fuck you,” you retort, but it’s weak, shaky.

“no, sweetheart,” baekhyun chuckles darkly, his powerful thighs flexing as he plants his feet on the mattress, his body tense with anticipation. “i’m fucking you.”

and then, before you can even process the warning, he pushes—just the head of his cock, but it’s enough to make your body jerk with the force of it. the blunt, needy pressure of him fills you, and you gasp, barely able to contain the overwhelming sensation as he breaches you with a slow, relentless thrust.

he groans, his eyes struggling to roll back, unable to look away from the obscene way your swollen pussy lips stretch to take him in. each inch sinks deeper, your walls opening to welcome him, slick and needy. when you reach the tight resistance at your entrance, baekhyun’s breath hitches, his body twitching as he fights the urge to lose himself completely.

“fuuuck, just look at you,” he rasps, his voice a deep, guttural growl that has your walls clenching around him even tighter. the sound of his words sends a ripple through your body, making you mold even more perfectly to his shape. baekhyun throws his head back, a tortured groan escaping him as his balls tighten with every harsh slap of his hips against your ass. “shit, shit, shit—how that bastard had you... all to himself, and didn’t make this pretty pussy come every day? i’ll never understand.”

he pulls you down roughly, one hand locking at the back of your neck, tightening his grip. “so, why don’t we... rub it in his ugly face?”

the thought sends a wave of heat coursing through you. your hips stutter, grinding down to meet baekhyun’s punishing rhythm, your body arching into his with a desperate need that makes you ache for more. you can’t get enough, your movements driven by a hunger to feel him deeper, harder, completely consuming you.

his fingers, still lingering at your cunt, shift to tease your pulsing, sensitive nub, circling it with agonizing slowness. he plays with your clit between two fingers, a teasing pressure building that has you squirming beneath him. “can you hear how loud this pussy is?” he breathes, his voice rough, dripping with desire. “bet he can hear it too.”

and it’s true. the wet smacks of skin meeting skin are growing louder, messier, as the rhythm of baekhyun’s pounding cock becomes a maddening staccato. each thrust sends ripples through you, the squelching sounds of his movements amplifying the rawness of the moment.

but you refuse to be compliant, not yet. the familiar, buzzing heat of your climax starts to rise, teetering on the edge, but you want to break him just a little bit more. “nah, i don’t think he can,” you retort, a challenge in your voice.

“oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ regret that, sweets.”

baekhyun’s eyes darken, and you barely have time to register the shift before he’s using his strength to flip you, your back hitting the soaked sheets with a soft thud. he throws your legs over his shoulders, positioning himself with ease to plunge into you in a brutal, relentless mating press. he’s folding you into the new angle, and the change sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through you.

the angle shifts just enough for him to kiss your g-spot with each powerful thrust, the pressure bruising, marking you with every inch of him. it’s impossible to focus on anything else as he drills into you, his cock reaching deeper, harder, until he’s branding his name onto your sweet spots, pushing against your cervix with a force that’s unforgettable. he’s determined you won’t forget this, determined to leave his mark, so you can’t—won’t—forget.

“baek—” you squeal as his movements speed up, each thrust hitting you harder. you struggle to get the words out, your voice trembling with need, “baek, i’m close—”

“louder,” he grins, the command dripping with mischief. his hips are starting to burn with effort, his muscles tiring from the relentless pace, but he’s not about to let up—there’s still teasing to be done. “still can’t hear you.”

your voice is shot, barely a whisper as the pressure builds inside you, “baek, ’m gonna cum—”

“louder or ’m not gonna let ya,” he challenges, his breath ragged and unsteady.

“baek! fuck, fuck, fuck, ’m cumming!” you cry out, and before those desperate moans even leave your lips, it hits him—your walls clamp down on him, tight and slick, gripping him like a vice. your heels dig deeper into his shoulder, your nails raking down his pale skin in frantic, red-hot trails as you tighten around him, "'m cumming—ngh—"

and fuck, each slam of his hips is like electricity shooting up your spine, his rhythm unrelenting as he forces you through your orgasm, dragging it out until you feel like you might go insane from the intensity of it.

“god—fuck, you’re so—” baekhyun groans, the words dying on his lips as the pleasure takes over. it’s all he can manage before he’s cumming, thick ropes of his seed flooding into you with a brutal, consuming force. “so, so, so perfect f’me…”

with both hands lacing above your head, he pulls you impossibly deeper, grinding into you with each pulse, filling you to the brim. his body is out of control, his thrusts relentless, as he pumps wave after wave of his cum into you, like he’s trying to empty himself completely.

he shudders at the overspill, the excess of his release dripping from the corners of your sweet pussy, leaving a creamy ring around his tired base. too much, yet he continues thrusting mindlessly, the movements growing sloppier as he catches your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “at least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, right?”

you smile into the kiss, your hips moving languidly against his, “didn’t do—hngh—the neighbors any favors, either.”

“it’s jongin, who fuckin’ cares? ‘pathetic dick’, my ass.” baekhyun’s grin widens, loving the sight of your sweet smile, the way your eyes light up just because of him. his voice softens, drawing out the words with a lazy smirk, “y’know... since we’ve been locked up in this hotel for the past few days and we’ve got most of tomorrow, how about we actually do something fun before we leave?”

you nod eagerly, your legs tightening around his waist, and for a moment, everything blurs into a haze of heat and desire. shit, this might just be heaven. “definitely need a break after that contract. we deserve some fun after the fuckin’ week we’ve had.”

his forehead presses against yours, sticky with sweat, his breath coming out in shallow pants. “‘fun’ is my middle name, baby.” his voice is unsteady, like he’s drunk off the way you’re looking at him, that familiar glare of yours knocking the air from his lungs. he chuckles, affection dripping from every word. “and we can use the company card too. minseok never even checks—”

you cut him off with a warning tone. “baek…” your brow arches, a familiar, irritated flicker of annoyance flashing across your face—the one he knows all too well. “don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into minseok’s card. he’ll kill you if he finds out. and that’s if i don’t kill you first.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“…baek…” you press, voice tinged with disbelief.

he hesitates, then, with a sly grin creeping up his face, mutters, “…is this a bad time to tell you i booked us that boat tour for tomorrow with it too?”

you stare at him, utterly deadpan. “yeah, you’re definitely getting pushed into the ocean tomorrow.”

ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ happy new year my cute lil babies!!! i had the best time writing this lmaooooo especially all the baekhyun x reader dialogue. after my last fic i kinda wished i'd made the male rivalry part longer, so this one’s extra full of it lol <3333 as always let me know what you think :') hehe love you all n i hope 2025 brings u nothing but good vibes. can’t wait to keep writing for u guys this year, mwah love youuuuu all!

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#been listening to lana on repeat since it dropped hence the inspo for the title of this lmao #baekhyun smut #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #x reader #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #baekhyun #lisawrites #dividers are by @anitalenia <3

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untaemedqueen · 7 months ago

Text

A Lions Pride

Mafia Leader!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Dark Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Series Warnings: Death (On Page), Blood (On Page), Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), MCD, Dark Romance, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Kitten, Guns, Knives, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Anti-Heroes

A/N: This book is dark. I mean, it is a mafia book but it is going to test everything you know about Jimin and Kitten. Jimin is NOT a good man, we know this. We know what he does for a living. Some things Jimin or Kitten will do will have no remorse and once we understand this, we can truly enjoy their journey. Good luck, squad~ Enjoy the ride~!

Chapter Warnings: Car Chase, Possessive!Jimin, Daddy!Kink, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Hair Leash, Fellatio, Deep Throating, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie

Chapter 1.

Your body clock is not working properly. You should have already been up by now, waiting for the alarm to go off so you can get out of bed. But this morning, you're roused by the loud screeching of your alarm with a wince.

Tilting your body towards the noise, your hand raises only to slam down on the device with a sharp thud.

Your eyes open blearily only to take in the paintings you've acquired over your years of marriage.

"Easy, kitten," your husband grumbles, wrapping his arm around you and burying his face into your neck.

"I have to get up," you whisper, clearing your throat of sleep.

"No," Jimin breathes defiantly, curling his hand around your waist, "Stay. I'll get the cubs to school."

"It's Wednesday, it's your day to rest."

Jimin lifts his head lazily, one eye opening to take you in as the sun begins to rise and highlight your bedroom in beautiful colors.

"You're five months pregnant, you should rest."

"Don't tell me what to do," you whisper, booping his nose and throwing the covers off of your body.

Running a hand through his hair, he grabs your pillow as you rise only to pull it towards himself.

Even after all these years together, you're still the most beautiful woman your husband has ever had the pleasure of knowing. He is the luckiest son of a bitch and he'll be damned if you don't know it.

"Kitten, have I ever told you how hot you are?"

You hum gently, feigning confusion. Standing tall, you stretch out your limbs which are achy and dull with pregnancy pains.

"Not enough," you chirp playfully, grabbing your robe.

"You're very hot, baby," your husband breathes into the pillow below his face.

"You're pretty hot, too, daddy," you quip, heading to the bathroom.

Your husband groans long and low, lifting his head as you shut the door. "Don't get me excited when you're leaving!"

"Hawon," you breathe, blinking at your nine year old daughter as she steals one of Hana's pieces of toast.

"What? She's not gonna eat it," she mumbles, with a full mouth.

"What did we say about talking with your mouth full?" Jimin inquires, making himself known as he waltzes around the breakfast bar.

He kisses your temple, grabbing his coffee cup. "Thank you, Chae."

The sweet maid simply nods, going back to cleaning the oven.

"Talking with your mouth full makes you choke to death," Minseok announces, looking up from his Nintendo Switch.

"Who told you that?!" your husband cries, choking on his coffee.

"Uncle Yoongi!" Hana cheers, grabbing her orange juice.

You can only roll your eyes, nudging your husband with a scoff.

Raising children in a family of gun runners and murders isn't as easy as one might think.

"I'll talk to him," he promises, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing.

"Mom?" Hana asks, swinging her legs sweetly.

"Hmm," you hum, wiping Sejeong's messy mouth as he grabs handfuls of scrambled eggs.

"Why are you having a stinky boy and not a girl?" your youngest daughter breathes.

"Girls are stinky! Not us! You smell!" Minseok retorts, pointing his finger at his little sister.

"Do we point at people? Is that nice?" you ask your son as Jimin grabs his little hand.

Your husband bites down on his index finger gingerly, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Girls are still stinky," Seok huffs, folding his arms.

Mornings are always filled with this sort of family banter and Jimin loves it, if he's being honest. There's something so satisfying about seeing his family grow and interact and love one another. For years he never expected to be able to have something like this and now the head Lion finally has it all.

Running his hand over your pregnant belly, he sets down his coffee.

"Daddy?" Hawon chirps, grabbing her glass of milk and looking up from her book.

"Hmm, princess?" he breathes, looking over at her.

"Can I have twenty dollars?"

"For what?" he asks, pushing some hair back behind her ear.

"There's this new book at the school fair today about the reference and identification of the most significant amphibians, reptiles and mammals. I'd like to read it."

You can only smirk at her wide eyes, how excited she gets about reading. You were never studious and neither was Jimin, so you constantly question where this big brained daughter came from late at night during your pillow talks.

"Nerd," Minseok breathes, burying his face back in his game.

"You're a nerd," Hawon mumbles, holding out her hand and smiling widely.

Jimin kisses the top of her head and opens up one of the multitude of hiding spots of money only to produce a twenty dollar bill for his daughter.

"Can I have twenty?" Hana beams, holding out her own small hand.

Your husband chuckles deeply, the sound soothing your soul.

"What does my six year old girl need?"

"...Ice cream?"

Snorting softly, you pass Sejeong his sippy cup as he wobbles pleasantly within his high chair.

"I'll buy you ice cream later, I promise," her father whispers, kissing her forehead.

Turning your head to the clock, you stand up straight. "Alright, let's go. School time."

"Uuuugh," Minseok groans, jumping off the bar stool and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Hey, mister," Jimin breathes, putting a hand on his son's shoulder, "it's too early for an attitude. If the school calls me again today, I'm taking your Switch away. Understood?"

"Mkay," Seok murmurs, pouting at you.

"Come on," you breathe, handing the bib over to Jimin and kissing his temple.

"Be careful driving. Take care of my little man in there," he whispers, running a hand over your stomach, "I love you. Love you kids!"

Your children mumble their love as they leave your large penthouse apartment and you give him a quick kiss on the lips before following after them.

"Jeong, when you get older you're gonna be a good boy, right?" your husband asks your smallest baby, getting down to his height and sipping his coffee.

The baby sputters his tongue and lips almost as if answering the question perfectly and Chae laughs, grabbing some bowls off of the breakfast bar.

Jimin narrows his eyes at his son and pinches his chubby cheek sweetly.

There's something about your days being so regimented that it brings you peace. Albeit, they can be a little boring but after your years of excitement -- boring is welcome.

You like hearing about Hawon's day and how she secretly whispers to you about a boy she likes in her class so Jimin doesn't hear. You like hearing about Minseok's adventures in pissing off Ms. Choi even though you'll have to chide him for it later. And you enjoy hearing about Hana's day as she tells you new words she learned and childish but fun science experiments.

But there are some days, like now, that the Vixen is pulled out of you by force.

Jimin wanted his kids to go to an esteemed, rich private school where a bunch of other mafia families drop their kids off for the day. He wants them to have a good education and understand that at the end of the day you need to work hard for your money like you both have.

After dropping them off, you round the corner to head to Hyunah's new restaurant when a brawl catches your eye.

Busan streets can be dangerous but they shouldn't be dangerous at eight o'clock in the morning. And you would have driven right by if a very, very familiar brand on some of the boy's necks weren't showing.

Slowing the Escalade down, your hand makes a fist and you punch the glove box open wordlessly. Grabbing your gun, you aim it at the window as it slowly lowers.

"You fucking pussy! Don't you dare ever touch my girl, you understand me?!"

Oh good, they aren't fighting about guns.

Whistling sharply, you stop your car in front of the eight men.

They angle their heads low to look in and when the four Lions spot you, they stand up straighter.

One of them catches your eye immediately and you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Who the fuck are you pointing a gun at, bitch? You b--" the man is cut off as the Lions tackle him to the ground.

"Oh," you breathe, looking down at your nails.

Shutting off your car, you climb out with a sigh.

The streets are quiet this morning and you count your stars that no ordinary person is passing by this old run down street at the moment. They might see something unfortunate that could scar them for life.

Rounding the car hood, you click your teeth softly.

"My little Lions, it's too early for this. You're gonna make me late for brunch," you hiss, smacking the Lion you know the closest upside the head.

"Noona, I'm so sorry," he whines, rubbing the back of his head as he cringes.

"Hoonie," you sigh, twirling your gun around your finger.

You watch with bored eyes as the men continue to fight and when one of them looks over at you, Sanghoon shields your body with his own.

"Who are you imbeciles anyway?" you inquire, motioning your hand for Hoon to stop all this nonsense.

"They're under Oh Byung, they're Hyenas and one of them touched my fucking girl like she was a piece of meat!" one of your Lion's hisses, being tugged away from the fray.

You look over your boys with a sigh, they're beaten bloody with split lips and black eyes but the Hyenas look even worse and you can deal with that.

Holding your gun up, you tilt your head.

It's only when a police car passes by that the Hyenas know who they're dealing with. They begin to smile at your audaciousness, hearing the siren as you hold your gun up in broad daylight but they begin to wither when you tilt your head slowly to the cop car.

"Hands up!" one of the police officer's screams, jumping out of the car.

You hold your hands up and flash them the tattoo on your wrist.

"Oh! Mrs. Park, good morning! These men troubling you?"

Twirling your finger, your Lions show their brands to the cops and they step behind you as you look down at your nails once more.

"Yes, they are. I'm late for brunch now because of these stupid morons. I'm pregnant, hungry and tired," you breathe, passing Sanghoon your gun.

He sheathes it under his belt and you sigh loudly once more.

"Do you want us to take them in?" the officer asks.

You look them over, they seem drunk and strung out and it wouldn't be in your best interest to get into a turf war with Oh Byung who you've never even met before.

"No," you surmise, heading back to your car.

"But, Madam! They touched my g--"

The Lion stops themself when you simply tilt your head. "If you have a concern about it, you can bring it up to my husband at the meeting tomorrow. You can ask for vengeance then. I, however, as I have said countless times already, am late for brunch. Do you expect me to have to stand here on some random filthy street while you exact your revenge and I'll have to clean it up for you by having to parley with Oh Byung?"

The sharpness of your voice makes the Lions wince and the Hyenas stare down at you in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Madam. I'll bring up the matter tomorrow evening. I apologize."

You hum in agreement, rounding the car.

"Officers, good morning. Sanghoon, get your fucking ass in this car before I kill you myself," you hiss, opening the door and climbing in.

"Yes, noona," he whispers, rushing over to the passenger side and slapping a Hyena on the cheek in passing.

Peeling away from the curb, you watch in the rear view mirror as the police begin to split up both of the groups and you roll your eyes with a sigh.

"You're better than that, Hoonie," you chide the flower boy.

With a whine, he leans over to put his hand on your growing bump. "I didn't even do anything, noona. It wasn't my fault."

Most of the Lions know just how much you adore this younger man, since you've raised him from just a mere pickpocket to the brute he is now. Everyone knows he's your favorite.

"You're supposed to be keeping them in line, not letting them fight in the middle of the street on a random Wednesday morning! C'mon, Hoonie, you need to be smarter than that!"

With a sigh, he nods and pulls away from you. "I'm sorry, noona. I'll be better."

"Yeah, you better be."

Stepping into the restaurant, you nod your head to the hostess and she smiles at you widely.

"Mrs. Park, good morning! Hyunah is waiting for you in the private room!"

You hum in agreement, taking off in the direction without a word.

As you walk, you don't feel the familiar presence of the man you just picked up off the street and when you turn around to look at him, you roll your eyes.

"Sanghoon!"

There the handsome man stands, leaning against the hostess podium with a toothpick between his teeth. His smirk is broad and handsome as he flirts with the girl. He looks over at you quickly, watching how your eyebrow raises and your hands come crashing down on your hips.

"Call me," he quips to the hostess, jogging to be by your side.

"I am gonna shoot you," you hiss at him, turning on your heel.

"Come on, noona. She was pretty hot," he breathes, pushing the room door open.

"You think everyone is hot," you scoff, smiling at Hyunah and taking off your sunglasses.

"Little Lion causing big trouble?" your friend teases, leaning over the table to kiss your cheek.

"Clearly. Morning, gorgeous," Yoongi breathes, kissing your temple and smacking Sanghoon upside the head.

"Ow!" Hoon whines, falling into his chair beside you and folding his arms.

Yoongi pulls out your chair for you and when you sit down, he stands behind you like always.

It's a weird dynamic Hyunah and him have now as their years go on. You expect him to always be by her side but that's never the case. He's always behind you, he's always been your confidante and your right hand man. You would have expected things to change but they never do.

Lighting a cigarette, your older friend leans back in her chair.

"Can you eat? Are you sick with this one?" she asks, ashing her cigarette.

"This baby is very good so far," you reply, throwing the word at her.

She hums in agreement, pouring herself a glass of sangria.

"What do you want to drink?" Yoongi inquires over your shoulder.

"Sparkling water," you reply.

"Hoon," your right hand man calls, leaving the room.

You watch them both leave and you quip an eyebrow to Hyunah as she sips her drink.

"Lioness…" she begins, crossing her legs, "promise me something."

Her voice is low with sorrow and you sigh.

"What'd you read in your tea leaves this time?" you jeer, folding your arms.

She doesn't smile, she doesn't take your words lightly like you expect her to. She just exists in the same space and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Promise me you will always take care of Yoongi and the Lees. Can you do that for me?"

The tip of your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you pull the petal into your mouth to peel some skin off. She's deadly serious and it courses concern through your bones.

"Hyunah… What're you talki-"

"I said," she hisses, venomously, leaning forward, "promise me that you will look after my fucking family."

"You know I will. You know I promise," you breathe, confused.

She gives a small sigh of relief then. "I knew you would, I just needed to hear it."

"Care to tell me what's going on?" you inquire, watching the doors open up once more.

"No. I do not," she mumbles, pulling from her cigarette.

You watch the smoke shroud her face like some sort of ethereal veil and you clear your throat when Yoongi puts the water in front of you.

"Where's Sanghoon?" you mumble, grabbing the water.

"Hitting on the hostess," your friend replies.

You watch his eyes flicker over to his wife as he sits down and you can see an animosity in his irises that makes you want to shudder.

This man for the past nine years has loved his wife so completely and so confidently that this random flit of anger has you seemingly confused.

It wasn't like this last week or even four days ago when you last saw them.

Four days ago, Yoongi was all over Hyunah at one of your meetings and now he doesn't even seem to want to look at her.

"Let's order," the head of the Lees breathes, burning out her cigarette.

Yoongi wafts the smoke away from your face and when Hyunah gets up to leave the room, you search his eyes for understanding.

"Don't," he warns you softly, coursing his rough hands over his face.

"Yoon-"

"I said don't," he hisses, smacking the table roughly.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you put your hand to your stomach and he swallows thickly as his eyes follow your hand. "Just leave it alone. Please, Y/N, for me. Just leave it."

"I'm just confused," you whisper, leaning towards him.

He gives a short, full laugh only to roll his eyes moments later. "Yeah, you're not the only fucking one."

"You can talk to me, Yoongi. You know that don't you?"

He takes a short breath between his teeth, running a hand over the back of your head. "I know. But there's nothing to talk about, okay? Hyunah is just being Hyunah and while it hurts me to say it… She has to handle her own problems. She doesn't want to talk to me."

You cringe softly at his pained voice and you can only sip your water as the Vixen who brought you up in the world reenters the room. She watches her husband pull away from you and clearing her throat, she sits back down.

"I ordered you porridge, you're too skinny with this baby," she breathes, grabbing her linen napkin and draping it over her lap.

"Thank you," you reply kindly, folding your arms.

You wouldn't be the woman you are if you didn't try to get to the bottom of this. And knowing yourself, you will get answers whether they like it or not.

"Noona, I have a gun run," Hoon breathes, looking down at his Rolex.

"Then go," you muse, stepping out of the restaurant with Yoongi by your side.

Sanghoon gives an expedient nod, kissing your cheek goodbye and taking off immediately.

"That kid walks around like he owns this fucking city," your friend huffs, watching the Lion walk away.

"Oh, leave him alone," you laugh, shoving his shoulder.

"That's exactly why he acts that way. Because he knows how much you love him and how cute you think he is," Yoongi chides, opening the car door for you.

"He is cute," you agree, "I raised him."

The gun runner rolls his eyes, rounding the car and when he climbs in beside you, you simply blink at him.

"I said, don't start. Why are you starting?" he hisses, narrowing his eyes at you.

"I didn't say anything," you mutter, holding a hand up as you start the car.

"I can see it in your little Vixen face. 'What's wrong with her, Yoongi?' 'Why are you acting like this, Yoongs?' 'Please tell me!' Stop," the Lion grunts, folding his arms.

"Well if you can see it then answer," you breathe, pulling away from the curb.

"Y/N!" Yoongi yells, slapping his hand against the dashboard, "I told you already, she won't fucking talk to me about it! God, when you're pregnant, you're so fucking nosy. Shit!"

Stepping on the brakes, you watch him brace himself against the dash and you widen your eyes at him.

Grabbing the collar of his suit jacket, you pull him to you with hardened eyes.

"You don't take an attitude with me, Min Yoongi. It's not my fault that your wife is being silent. Don't you dare be this way to me. Do you understand?!"

The gun runner sighs, closing his eyes and pushing your hand off of him gently. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm stressed out and I shouldn't take it out on you. You're just trying to help."

"If you need to take your anger out somewhere, you call Jina for one of the Golden Cage girls. You don't ever talk to me like that!"

"Fierce Vixen," he mumbles, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

The drive is silent for a while longer before Yoongi pulls out his gun and begins to clean it beside you.

When the Lion's are fucked up in the brain, when they're trying to work things out, they clean their guns. It's something they've picked up from Jimin after all these years.

"How many blocks have we driven?" Yoongi inquires, looking up from his lap.

"Uhhh, fifteen or so? Why?" you ask in return, tilting your head towards him.

"Make a left," he whispers, reassembling his gun with fast fingers.

You do as told, looking through the mirror behind you.

When a car turns the corner with you, you swallow thickly.

"Make a right," he breathes, pulling out the gun cartridge and counting the bullets.

Once again, you do as told and the car follows you.

"We have a tail," he announces, pulling out the burner phone.

Cracking your neck, you keep your eyes on the road as he calls someone.

There hasn't been anything like this to happen to your family yet in Busan and in a way it finally feels like you're being welcomed to the big city. No matter how fucked up it sounds.

"Park."

Your husband's voice is soothing and commanding on the other end of the line. Any nerves you would have begun to feel simply slink back into the recesses of your mind.

"Min," your friend announces, cocking his gun. "I'm with Y/N. We have a tail."

You can hear Jimin take a sharp breath between his teeth and you glance at the rear view mirror once more.

"They're gaining," you mutter, pressing your foot down on the gas pedal.

"Yoongi, you better look after my wife and baby, do you fucking hear me?!" Jimin yells.

You can hear the anxiousness in his voice and you find yourself smirking as the head Lion crawls out of his den at a steady pace.

"I hear you," Yoongi replies, putting the phone down on your lap.

"Kitten," your husband calls to you.

"I'm here," you promise, turning a sharp corner and bracing yourself.

"Kitten, are you okay? Do you need me to come and get you?"

"I'm a big girl now, Chim. I can handle a little car chase."

"Watch our baby boy," he pleads and you can just picture him staring out the window and running his fingers through his thick black locks.

Narrowing your eyes at the license plate, you take another sharp turn.

52 -- 5087

You relay the numbers and Yoongi nods dutifully as he puts them in his phone.

"Watch the fucking--" Yoongi screams, looking up from his phone.

"Kitten?!" Jimin yells nervously.

"God! Relax!" you yell back, turning the car away from oncoming traffic.

"Baby, please, be careful!" your husband whines loudly.

"You're acting like pussies! Holy shit!" you laugh, turning down a dirt road and stepping hard on the breaks.

"She always acts so fucking tough when she's pregnant like the baby is her shield or some shit!" Yoongi curses, shoving open the door and aiming his gun at the oncoming car.

"He better watch his fucking mouth," you hear your husband scoff.

Grabbing the phone off your lap, you also grab your gun and climb out of the car.

Holding the phone to your ear, you aim at the SUV.

"Jimin, earlier this morning some Lions were fighting with Hyenas. They might be trying to scare us or try to exact revenge," you calmly tell your husband.

"And let me guess," your husband hisses, "your favorite little boy was amongst them!"

Once the SUV stops and the doors swing open, Yoongi fires a warning shot high into the air.

"You step out of that car, I'm gonna put a fucking bullet in your goddamn skull! Do you hear me?!" your right hand man screams at the top of his lungs.

"Tell me where you are," Jimin pleads.

"Oh, baby," you coo softly, "don't worry about us, we'll be home soon. Can you ask Mirae to make me ginger tea?"

"Kitten, please. Tell me where you are and I'll kill these fuckers myself."

You ignore your husband, aiming your gun when a head pops up from the driver's side door.

Yoongi fires one more shot and the head ducks.

"You Lions are stepping on territory that don't belong to you!"

Yoongi chuckles, leaning against the car and closing one eye.

"We own all of Busan now! You go run and tell your boss that if he wants to act big then he can do it at a parley! You shoot either one of us, your whole family is gonna fucking die! Think carefully!"

You hum in amusement, climbing back into the car and brushing off your dress.

"See, I told you I'll be home soon," you tell your husband.

"Back the fuck up! Or I will shoot you where you stand!" you hear your friend scream.

You lean over the middle console and shove his door open for him as you begin to slowly back the Escalade out of the dirt road.

Yoong climbs back into the car, lowering his window and angling his body out of it. Holding up his gun, he flicks his hand and when the SUV starts to back out, he begins to laugh.

"I wish someone would give me a fucking reason to shoot them! Lord knows I could do with some stress relief right now!" he screams at the top of his lungs.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Jimin inquires, curiously.

"See you when I get home?" you ask happily, pulling out of the dirt road and shooting one of the van's wheels with a wide smile.

"I'll be waiting, kitten. You know I would wait a million years for you," your husband breathes.

"I love you," you smile, driving back towards the apartment complex.

"I love you, too, baby. See you soon."

"You guys are gross," Yoongi murmurs, beginning to take apart his gun once again.

"You love it," you tease, putting your sunglasses on.

Stepping into your house, you smile at Mirae.

"Good morning, Madam."

"Morning, Mirae. Hi, baby," you coo, kissing Sejeong's forehead as the maid sets him down.

"Watch the baby," Jimin calls from the hallway and you turn to him with a smirk.

"Ginger tea is in the office for you, Madam."

"Thanks, Mirae," you breathe, looking over the apartment.

In truth, this apartment could rival the large estate you once lived in. No longer are there warm wooden walls to surround you but instead marble and granite meet your eyes. Jimin did right by his family, of course, as he always does. He renovated the top floor, ripping out the walls and doors until the whole place was one large home. All of your children have their own rooms and there's plenty more to spare which Jimin swears he'll fill them up over the next few years but you have no opinion on that matter. Your shared bedroom is way larger than your previous one and it has all the comforts you could ask for.

Peeling off his crisp black dress shirt, your husband tosses it carelessly over his shoulder, hooking it with his index finger. Walking down the large, sunlit hallway, your fingers brush over his hard abs as you pass him.

"Mirae, why don't you take Sejeong to your apartment for a while, hmm?" your husband breathes, following after you.

When you open up the office door, you watch Lion hop off of the desk like he knows he's going to get in trouble.

"Naughty boy," you hiss to him as he scurries out into the hallway.

Before you can even get to the desk, your husband is wrapping his arms around you.

"Are you okay, kitten? You're always so bold when you have boys inside you. You need to be careful," Jimin whispers, cupping your cheek with a soft hand.

"We're just fine," you promise, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

When you pull away, his fingers reach up to the nape of your neck and he twirls your hair around his fingers to keep you from moving. "If I remember correctly, you teased me this morning. You know how I feel about that, baby girl."

You whine softly, drifting your nails over the large tattoo that now covers his stomach and side, it's an homage to his family. Every cub he's had, you, his brother's, your names are scrawled across his skin for life.

"Who do you belong to, kitten?"

"You, daddy. Always," you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His free hand roams over your backside until he grabs at the skirt of your dress.

"This is expensive," you warn him, pull away.

He chases after your lips with a sly smirk, tugging you closer with the hand on your neck. "And who bought you this pretty dress?"

"You did," you reply, reaching down for his Versace belt.

Your fingers slowly tug at the leather until it hits the floor with a loud thud.

"And if daddy wants to rip this dress up, he'll just buy you a new one," your husband whispers against your lips.

Letting go of your neck, he grabs the bottom of your dress and the sound of ripping fabric echoes through your ears until you're scantily clad in just a bra and thong.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," Jimin groans wantonly.

When you jump up, he catches you easily, his hands settle beneath the globes of your ass and he presses you against the wall to open the office door.

"Watch the baby," he mumbles, biting his bottom lip as you suckle the thin skin of his neck.

His strides are quick and confident towards the bedroom and when you reach the solace of your room, he pulls you back to kiss him.

The tip of his tongue traces over your lower lip and when you open your mouth for him with a feeble whine, he groans long and low before you.

"Fuck," he curses, setting you down on the bed.

His fingers trail over your skin, producing goosebumps and you whine his name softly.

He kisses over your stomach, eyes on yours all the while as he makes his descent. When a gentle flutter makes itself known beneath his lips, he smirks.

"I know, mommy is impatient," he whispers to his son, tugging your thong until it's mere string.

"Daddy, please," you cry, spreading your legs.

If it's one thing that could never change between the both of you, it's just how easy it is to get you begging and panting with want for your husband.

"Oh? The tease wants to act like a little cum slut now, hmm?" your husband quips, spreading your lower lips with his fingers.

He finds himself groaning at the mess between your legs, shiny and slick with want for his large cock.

"Goddamn, kitten. You're fucking soaked," he hisses, slapping your pussy with the palm of his hand.

Your body writhes at the jolt of painful pleasure and the head Lion takes it upon himself to quell your pain. His pink, plush lips kiss at your throbbing clit, fingertips digging into your fleshy thighs.

"Daddy, please!" you beg once more.

"Mm mm," he denies you, sucking your throbbing bud into his mouth.

"I want your cock," you whine, taking your bra off.

"That's very clear, baby girl. Your pussy is a fucking mess. Daddy has to clean it up now since you're such a little cum whore," he murmurs, suckling your lips and licking a flat stripe over your weeping sex.

Your body sags into the bed, fingers carding through your husband's black locks of hair.

"God, this pregnant pussy tastes so fucking good," Jimin sighs happily.

It almost sounds like he wants to fucking cry. God, how he adores you.

"Fuck, kitten, I love you so much," he whispers against you, entering two fingers into your sodden core.

You sob loudly at the feeling, spreading your legs wider for more.

"I love you too!" you gasp, closing your eyes.

Curling his fingers to the soft patch of nerves inside of you, he diligently flicks the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Oh my God!" he whispers against you, putting his free hand to your belly.

"Daddy!" you blubber, gyrating your hips for more.

"That's it, baby girl. Cum on daddy's fingers. Show me how much you love it," he coos, kissing up your body and replacing his tongue with his thumb.

He rubs fast circles, minding your stomach as his lips part around your puffy, dark nipple.

"Goddamn, you're ready to make milk already," he hisses, suckling softly on your sensitized skin.

Your fingers grip his hair harder and your cries are becoming stunted and small.

The invisible band within you is tightening and your husband knows it all too well as you clench around him rhythmically.

"Cum on my fingers, kitten. Good girl," your husband praises, rubbing tighter and faster circles to your nub.

There is nothing better than having you alone in this big bed, the only woman he could ask for, his soulmate.

"Right there!" you gasp, seeing stars paint your eyelids as he keeps his fingers taut to the nerves inside of you.

"Give it to me," Jimin orders, moving his hand so fast inside of you that you choke on a moan. He suckles at your nipple harder, leaving your belly to pinch and roll your other forsaken nipple between his fingers.

"Yes, yes, yes, daddy," you chant, feeling the invisible band within you break.

"That's my good girl," he whispers softly, fucking you through the orgasm and moving his fingers out of the way for you to squirt onto the bed.

He groans at the amount of wetness that squirts from you and when you open your hazy, love drunk eyes, you find your husband smiling down at you.

"Hi, there," he whispers, kissing you languidly.

You can feel how hard his cock is as it rests against your thigh in the confines of his suit pants.

Tugging him closer by his belt loop, you flip him onto his back with a simple shove.

"Mmm, kitten," he groans, tucking a hand beneath his head to watch you.

Your fingers are cool and confident as you undo his pants and when you kiss down his chest, he sighs content.

"Fuck, your lips feel so good," your husband murmurs, letting his free hand lazily caress over your hard nipples.

When you whine at the feeling, the sound goes straight to his cock and it twitches, begging for mercy. His plush bottom lip tucks between his pearly white teeth and he sighs loudly when you free his hard cock from the confines of his pants.

"Kitten, be a good girl for me," he coos, grabbing your hair with his fist and making a makeshift ponytail.

"Yes, daddy," you preen softly, kissing down his long length.

"Sexy little tease," he hisses, tugging on your hair gently.

Swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, his jaw tightens. His eyes roll into the back of his head and his chest puffs up with pleasure.

"Oh, kitten, fuck. Take it deep," he moans, tapping your throat.

Doing as told, you swallow around him until your nose nestles against his pubic bone and the sharp breath he takes between his teeth tells you just how good it feels for him.

"God, look at you, baby!" your husband whines, leaning up on his elbow to palm one of your breasts in hand, "you look so beautiful stuffed full with my cock and baby."

You hum in agreement, bobbing your head and getting sloppy on his cock.

His thick thigh muscles become terse and strained as pleasure shoots through him. His hips thrust on their own and he coos sweetly when fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

Brushing his thumbs against your cheeks, he moans your name loudly.

"Kitten! Fuck! Oh my God, you're gonna make be cum, baby girl!"

He tugs harder on your hair, eyes squeezing shut. Just when he's right about to cum, when you can feel his cock throbbing and thickening on your tongue, he groans. "Off, pull off, I wanna cum inside you, baby."

You hum in agreement, rubbing your thighs together for any friction you can receive.

"C'mere, kitten," Jimin whispers, sitting up against the headboard.

You whimper for him, spreading your legs over his own. His fingertips drift over your inner thighs and he sighs softly at how dripping wet you are.

"Watch my boy," he murmurs against your lips, positioning the head of his cock to your entrance.

You sit down on him slowly, moaning at the stretch.

"So fucking tight," your husband gasps, putting his hands on your hips, "your pussy is so wet, shit."

"Daddy," you gasp, curling your arms around his neck needily.

"I got you, baby. Take everything from me," Jimin whispers, kissing you passionately.

Your hips lift only to crash back down at a rhythmic pace. The head Lion's hands glide over your skin, tongue running over yours and swallowing your pleasurable cries.

There was no one in the world he could ever adore more than you and still to this very day he feels like the luckiest man in the universe.

Pulling him closer, he steadies you when his stomach smacks into yours.

"Easy, kitten," he breathes, cupping your face.

"Your cock feels so good, daddy! I love how big it is," you whine, throwing your head back.

His legs find purchase beneath yours and he thrusts his hips to meet you with every chance he gets. "Yeah? You love my big cock? You want to cum on it? Hmm? Wanna make your pregnant cunt cream all over me?"

You nod incessantly, mouth dropping open to give a silent scream.

"That's my good girl. Daddy loves your pregnant pussy, baby. Feels so fucking good," he groans, burying his face into your neck to suckle at your sensitive skin.

He feels it then, the rhythmic clenching around him that he knows so well.

"Right there, baby? You like it right there?" he taunts, grabbing your hips and fucking up into you faster.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and your eyes squeeze shut. "J-Jimin!"

"Oh my God!" he cries, laying you down on your back and thrusting into you with everything he has.

His plush lips suckle roughly at your nipple and he scoffs loudly as pleasure flows through him.

"Fuck, daddy! I'm go-gonna--"

"I know, kitten. Fuck, I feel it, it feels so good. Give it to me, baby girl. Please," he begs, putting your ankles over his shoulders.

His hand comes to settle at the apex of your thighs and he rubs sweet, unforgiving circles until your back is arching off the mattress.

"Just like that, baby. You're gonna make me cum. Your pregnant pussy is so tight for me," Jimin coos, kissing you roughly.

You cry out into his mouth as your second orgasm racks through you and with a groan, he flips you over.

Cupping your belly, he knocks your knees open wider until your head is hanging between your shoulders.

"Jesus Christ, you're so amazing, kitten," he praises, kissing over your shoulder.

"D-Daddy, your cock is so fucking big," you sob, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, I fucking bet it is. You love daddy's cock in your slutty little hole, don't you?"

You can only screech a million affirmations as he spanks the globes of your ass, burnishing his handprint into your skin.

"Y/N," he moans loudly when you begin to buck back against him.

"Cum inside me, daddy. Please fill me up. I want to drip with you," you beg, tugging his hand from your belly to your breast.

Burying his face into your neck, he pinches and rolls your nipple once more until his thighs begin to quake.

"I want you to walk around this fucking house with my cum running down your legs and my baby on display. Do you hear me, kitten?"

You nod incessantly, gasping when the head of his cock nestles against your soft cervix folds.

"Kitten!" he whines loudly, furrowing his eyebrows.

He gives sloppy, slow thrusts as his cum paints your velvet walls. Sighing loudly, he wraps his arms around you. Falling to your side, he kisses over the back of your neck.

"I missed you, kitten," your husband mumbles into your ear.

"This morning has been way too eventful for me," you breathe, closing your eyes.

"I have a lot of fucking questions for you," Jimin replies, rolling you onto your back and kissing your pregnant bump.

Rolling off of the bed, your husband grabs his briefs. You slip on his dress shirt, covering your breasts when the chill of the room finally seeps into your bones.

Pouring himself a glass of whisky, the head Lion fixes the waistband of his briefs. When he turns back to you, the smile that spreads on his face makes you raise an eyebrow.

"What?" you mumble, looking down at the shirt.

"Stand for me, baby," he coos, above the lip of his glass.

You do as he asks, walking over to him as he holds out a hand. Setting down his glass, he curls his arms around you as he faces the mirror.

"Look at you," he whispers, kissing your temple.

One hand falls below your belly and the other fixes his shirt to cover your breasts.

"God, I'm the luckiest man in the world," your husband chuckles, kissing the shell of your ear and swaying with you.

"You're gonna make yourself excited again if you continue on like this," you giggle.

Peering at your thighs as you begin to cream with his cum, he smiles wider. "You're right about that, baby girl. My cum looks so good on you, fuck."

Turning you around, he picks up his whisky glass once more. "Please explain to me what happened this morning, kitten."

You can only sigh, pulling him along with you to the bathroom.

He leans against the door frame, crossing his muscular legs and folding one arm beneath the other. Taking a sip of his whisky, he watches with loving eyes as you turn on the bathtub.

"Don't make the water too hot, my little man can't handle it," he reminds you, watching you strip off his shirt.

"After I dropped the kids off this morning, I saw some Lions fighting with a family I've never seen before. Hyenas."

"Who's the head of the Hyena family?" Jimin inquires, helping you into the tub and sitting down on the bench beside it.

"Oh Byung, I want Namjoon to look into them. They're also who tailed me and Yoongi earlier."

"Yeah, good idea, baby. We'll have Joon look into them… Also what the fuck is up with Yoongi? He's acting…-"

"Oh my God! I know!" you gasp, widening your eyes at your husband, "This morning was so fucking weird! When I had brunch with Hyunah… It seemed like they were on bad terms."

Jimin sips his whisky, furrowing his eyebrows at your words.

"Hyunah and Yoongi on bad terms? That doesn't sound right."

"I know! And she asked me to always look after Yoongi and the Lees like…like something bad was happening," you bleat, running warm water over your goosebumped skin.

"Did you press her about it? Did she say anything?"

You give your husband an incredulous look to which he simply hums in agreement.

"What about Yoongs, then?"

"He told me to 'mind my fucking business and don't start'," you recount, flashing your husband air quotes along with his words.

"I'll fucking shoot him in the neck… how dare he get snippy with you," Jimin hisses, setting down his glass.

"I mean don't get me wrong, we fight too and I get that but when he looked at Hyunah it was like… he fucking hated her. And I'm not just saying it to be dramatic, he really looked vicious and…and hurt."

The head Lion sniffs softly, staring at your belly as he lets your words process through his brain.

"I was only joking with her when I asked her what she saw in her tea leaves but she got so mad at me… like she saw red or something for even bringing it up."

"Huh," he breathes, tilting his head confused.

"I don't know. It seems like something to keep in mind and maybe even something to worry about if it doesn't get fixed," you bleat, grabbing the soap.

"Yeah, well, I don't want you worrying about anything. You just focus on making my baby boy big and strong. We'll deal with it if it comes down to it."

You give him a nod, laying back in the tub and sighing softly.

"I'm gonna go pick the kids up from school, you get ready for the meeting later, okay?"

"Okay," you promise, closing your eyes.

"I love you, kitten."

"I love you, too, Chim."

Setting your gun down on the table, you sit down in your large chair and when Joon enters, you toss your phone into the soundproof box like always.

"Hey, Y/N," he chirps, kissing your temple and taking his usual seat.

"She fucking ripped my hair out!" Taehyung curses, stepping into the large apartment that's now your meeting area and combing his fingers through his hair to see a very apparent bald spot through the mirrored walls.

"And why did she do that, hyung?" Guk chuckles, widening his eyes happily at the sight of you.

"Hi, noona!" he squeals happily, rushing over and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

He runs a hand over your bump as he takes his seat beside you and you look incredulously at Tae who stomps his foot on the ground.

"Hyejin ripped my hair out because I taught Hyungwon what a 'pussy' is."

You can only snort, rolling your eyes at his antics.

"Hey, Y/N," he mumbles, sullenly, falling into his chair with a whine.

"You're the pussy," your brother-in-law laughs, stepping around the multitude of chairs to kiss your forehead. "Oh! Y/N! Jisuk made you and the baby a present if you wanna come over and grab it soon."

"Aw!" you pout sweetly, nodding to Jin, "I'll come over later to see it! How's my little Jungwoon?"

"He finally can eat scrambled eggs, you were right, he just needed a little more force to get solid foods down."

Winking at him, you watch the apartment door open once more.

This family has been getting bigger and bigger and you're so pleased to see everyone doing well.

"Uhm, noona?" Jeongguk whispers as Hoseok enters.

You lean over to him as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair.

"Yunjin has been having a really bad rash down there and Vixen was wondering if any of your girls ever had that…" he mumbles into your ear.

Pulling away, you pinch his cheek sweetly. "Oh yeah, that might happen. You might have to put more powder on after her baths or change her diaper more so she doesn't sit in the wetness. Try some baby powder at first and then put some ointment on for a few days. If it doesn't get better, then take her to the doctor."

"Okay," he promises, nodding strictly and pulling out his phone to text his wife.

"Guk, come on," Hoseok says, kissing the top of your head and tossing his own phone into the box.

"Sorry, one minute," the youngest promises.

"Leave him alone, it's a serious concern," you breathe, looking down at your nails.

"Thanks, noona," he smiles, wrinkling his nose and tossing the phone into the box.

Yoongi and Jimin step into the space together and you watch your husband rolls his eyes.

Uh oh. What happened there?

"Guns," he breathes, pulling his gun from behind his back and placing it on the large marble table beside you.

He plants a chaste kiss on your lips and you reply in kind.

"Yoongi… phone," Joon says, grabbing the box.

Your right hand man sighs loudly and he throws the phone in with a grunt.

Drifting his fingers over the gnarled scar on his cheek, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

"Hyung, c'mon… you know noona is pregnant," Guk complains, wafting the smoke away from you.

"Did you knock her up? Is that your baby? Why are you so worried about what I'm doing? Worry about yourself, you hear me?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," your husband breathes, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What'd you just say?" the youngest asks clipped through his teeth, quick to defend your honor.

"I said mind your fucking business, Jeon Jeongguk before I fucking make you," the older man seethes, pressing both hands to the table and leaning forward.

You watch the smoke lazily rise, his scarred eye squinting to block out the toxic fumes and you only cross your arms at the sight.

"Burn out the cigarette!" your husband orders, grabbing his gun, "you know you don't smoke around my wife when she's pregnant."

"Well then I might as well quit smoking forever! She's always knocked up!"

You take a sharp breath between your teeth at how wrong he is to say those words and you flinch when your husband kicks his chair back with fury.

"Y'know, you're acting like me when I was a fucking head case," Guk spits, narrowing his eyes, "I almost lost my life because of it."

You watch the youngest lift his shirt to show his gnarled, large scar and thinking about that day at his warehouse makes your skin clammy and your stomach roll.

"Burn. Out. The. Cigarette," Taehyung hisses to his left, practically pleading with his oldest friend to do as he's told.

"Fuck!" Yoongi yells, throwing the cigarette on the floor and stomping on it repeatedly. "You happy now?! You bunch of hypocritical fucks!"

"What's up, man? Is it Hyunah?" Joon inquires softly, spinning his wedding ring around on his finger.

"Do you see my fucking wife at this goddamn table?! Do you see that woman anywhere near me?! Don't ask me stupid goddamn questions!" your right hand man screams at the top of his lungs.

Calmly, you stand up.

"Yoongi," you breathe, rounding the table.

"No, Y/N, just fucking stop," he sighs, burying his face in his hands.

"Easy, kitten," your husband says, cautiously.

"Yoongi, you can talk to us," you promise, leaning against the back of Namjoon's chair.

Your friend kicks back his own chair and he grabs your shoulders roughly. His eyes are pained and frantic, looking down at you with gritted teeth.

You sigh softly when everyone's guns cock loudly.

"I don't want to talk about it. Why can't you just leave it alone?! I have my own problems with my wife. Just like Hoseok. Just like Taehyung. Or Guk or Joon or everyone else! What do you want me to say?! That my wife is acting out of order? That she makes me sleep in a different fucking bed?! That she suddenly turned on me four days ago and she won't tell me what's wrong?! Is that what you fucking want from me?!" he cries loudly, slamming his fist down onto the table until you envelop him into a hug.

He buries his face into your neck and he hugs you so tightly that it makes you flinch. Namjoon puts his hand to your back to keep you upright as your right hand man sobs loudly.

Swallowing thickly, you run your hand over his back.

Jimin uncocks his gun and he motions his hand for the others to do so as well. Turning his back to everyone, he tilts his head.

Hyunah would never just act like this for no reason, she's so fucking strong. Hell, she had a personal hand in making you as strong as you are.

"Get off," Yoongi breathes, clearing his throat and pulling away.

You cup his face, wiping his now reddened cheek before stepping back and rounding the table to your seat once more.

Sitting down once more, you tilt your head to Jimin as he pours himself a glass of liquor.

When he turns back around, he kisses your forehead sweetly.

"Namjoon, I want you to look into Oh Byung. I want everything on him that you can possibly find," your husband announces, sitting down beside you and placing his hand on your belly.

Your friend simply nods, making a mental note of it. "You got it."

"Yoongi, I'm also sorry that you're going through the shit right now but Y/N has always been by your side, don't you dare ever speak to my wife like that again. I'll put a bullet between your eyes."

Your right hand man nods, staring down at the marble table with narrowed eyes.

"Any other agendas for this meeting?" you inquire, crossing your legs and looking down at your nails.

The Lion's voices begin to drone in and out of your ears and you can only feel your husband's thumb brushing loving strokes over your stomach.

Moving to Busan to get away from all the painful ties to life seemed all too easy and as you and Jimin sit side by side, you can practically hear each other's thoughts screaming at one another.

Yet another problem arises.

#bts series #a lions pride #tbc #tld #chapter 1 #chap 1 #park jimin #jimin #jimin smut #dom!jimin #sub!reader

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