#SORRY. WILL DRAW HAPPIER THINGS

[mafuyuakgae]

dr asahina

[tradingjack]

happy quick bday doodle for these two dweebs

[wynandcore]

AGH LATE HAPPY TRANS DAY OF VISIBILITY!! Tron is trans pass it on

[iwakuraz]

(⁠ ⁠T⁠_⁠T⁠)⁠＼⁠(⁠^⁠-⁠^⁠ ⁠)

[vanyafresita]

why can't a boy take a break from the horrors ? oh, must i always suffer this way ? is there no end to this madness ?

[runawaycarouselhorse]

Once upon a time I found May embarrassing because I was naive and clumsy and suffered a lot from my naivete, so I hated seeing folks online call naivete not a real flaw/just being "too nice"... but I was always very defensive of her figure and hated those who believed she must be much older just because she has an hourglass shape as a preteen. I was the same way and just a year or two older than her when I joined the fandom and AG was airing.

Anyway, I love her and feel proud of her growth in DP.

My favourite Pokemon characters are mostly characters who everyone else hates, though. ^^;;

Oops... I love Jessie and Iris and Trip... I love tomboyish and tough girls as well as foppish and sensitive boys (so, Wishfulshipping and Rocketshipping are everything--throw in a class difference and I love the ship even more!), lonely rich kids whose parents are never around make up a bunch of my favourites too (Marielle, Diana Konderick/Fanny Fox, Lillie...), proud and aristocratic young ladies but who are nonetheless very kind at heart despite eccentricities and treasure their friends (Lillie, Marielle, Victorique de Blois, and Shinku)... so many characters with abandonment and/or mommy issues (Lillie, Soma Yuki, Soma Momiji, Hina-Ichigo, and Jessie to a degree too, although she hides it ^^;).

Characters that struggle to connect with others, or even act ornery or cold, to avoid being hurt--often isolated, ostracized, bullied, or simply house-bound (Iris, Victorique de Blois, Marielle)... or literally just characters that either come off as arrogant due to extreme shyness and avoidance of others, or who genuinely hide behind a projected false image of confidence to hide genuine insecurities (hi, Trip.)

its unreal how all of my favorite characters have exactly the same traits and hobbies and diagnoses as me

[himezoro]

your roman empire with the one piece men

that small gesture or word he said that entered your mind and never left.

starring : zoro, luffy and law !!

word count : 889

author's note : again, i'm so sorry for posting so rarely, working and planning a wedding has to be the most exhausting thing ever, i promise to go through all of your requests and to be more present, tysm for your support ♡౨ৎ⋆.˚ some of these scenarios have been inspired by moments i often think about in my life, can you guess which hahaha??

zoro was smitten with you, and longed taking a step forward in your camaraderie, and everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. so when nami told him he was on errand duty with you and only you today, the swordsman knew it was his shot to get closer to you.

gosh, you were gorgeous walking around the alleys with the wind blowing your hair and diffusing your hypnotizing scent. and there he was, walking by your side like a guard dog with his hands the pockets of his jacket, listening to your enchanting voice.

the errands were nearly coming to an end, and zoro did not dare to "make a move", which he knew he would regret. the alleys got more crowded and he was afraid to lose you, especially since his orientation is not the best, though his senses would always bring him back to you. he knew that.

as zoro listened to you and internally debated on whether he should say something about his feelings or not, his body acted on his own, finally closing the distance.

as he gently grabbed your left hand with his right one, intertwined his fingers with yours, before putting both of his hand and yours in his right pocket, acting like it was the most natural gesture on earth.

and the butterflies in your stomach never died since.

luffy has always brought joy to your life and fed your desire for adventures and fun. he lit stars to your world and invited you to let go of pressure and have fun, not minding about third parties' opinions. a lot of people would question your couple association because of luffy's exuberance, but all them be damned. the future king of the pirates brought you back to life and no one could make you happier.

a sudden rain came down pouring on the grand line and the wind blew hard. the entire crew started running around to put back inside the furnitures that were left outside. the rain was so much that it started freezing and you started to run to your quarters. yet, as you were about to finally reach your door, a pair of elastic arms grabbed you and brought you back outside under the pouring rain, their owner sporting a huge, bright grin on his face.

"luffy!!! what the hell are you doing? it's raining and we'll catch a cold!!"

"chichichi, i wanted to dance with you, (y/n)!" he beamed, his eyes adoringly pleading yours to allow his antics as he started twirling you around under the pouring rain.

between laughters only him could exulate, you tried to bring him back to his senses.

"but luffy, honey, we can't dance under the rain! it's cold and there's no music playing!"

luffy did not mind your ramblings as he kept on twirling you around, his hand standing on your the small of your back the whole time, his thumb occasionnaly drawing circles. with a determined gaze and his signature smile on his face, he pressed his forehead on yours, the rain drops falling from his nose to your lips from the closeness.

"together, there's nothing that we can't do (y/n). after all, i'm the future king of the pirates!!"

his laughter hugged the atmosphere and made your heart race even more.

your relationship with law was a secret on the submarine, and it was hard for you to hide your adoration for your boyfriend. after all, what wasn't there to love? law was smart, composed, mature and commited. yet, sometimes, it felt so easy for him to "ignore" your status in front of the crew or anyone for that matter, which tended to hurt your heart. did law appreciate you the way you did? was it unrequited?

little did you know, law had a hard time not paying as much attention as he would when with the others. because he had a lot of work, even when the others were not around, it did not mean the two of you could see each other. therefore, the soft gestures he wished to cover you with were quite lacking. and of course, he was the one to have asked to keep the relationship a secret, and because of his prideful persona, he would not admit it was not a good idea.

you and bepo were getting ready to work around the submarines for your chores of the day. you were busy going around the submarine with your chores tool and bepo, and failed to notice your shoe laces came undone.

and of course, this would not go unnoticed by law. the captain could not stop himself from going to you with a frown, which surprised (and scared) both of you and bepo.

is there anything you did wrong? why was he looking so pissed off?

"idiot. you could trip and injure yourself." your boyfriend sternly spoke, kneeling to the floor to tie your shoe-lace, leaving bepo dumbfounded and yourself out of breath, with a racing heartbeat.

"you know i don't want you to get hurt." he said getting up, his hot breath tickling your cheek in the process, his warm hand resting on yours, silently promising to show his adoration for you like you deserve.

and you swore you could still feel the warmth of his hand from that day again.

[luveline]

hi jade! could i request a luna lovegood!reader x eddie munson blurb? maybe him feeling protective over her in a situation? thank you! congrats on 46k :)

You have a soft touch.  

“Hello,” you whisper, scratching your nails into the soft underside of your new cat’s chin, “hello, baby Teeby. You’re back.” 

“You gotta stop leaving the window open.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, scratching right where the cat wants it, his little black face twisting into your touch. “Really, Eddie, I don’t mean for him to get out, but you’re right, of course you are. I have to remember he’s here now. Anything could’ve happened when he got out.” 

He didn’t mean for you to take his reminder so hard. “Hey, it’s okay. I found him, didn’t I?” 

You hadn’t noticed the cat was gone. To an outside observer you seem irresponsible, but Eddie knows the details of the story. You opened the window to the bedroom to let fresh air inside, then someone knocked on your door and you left to answer while the cat escaped. 

You’re new to cats. You didn’t realise he’d be eager to leave, but luckily Eddie caught him scratching at the wall of your house trying to get back up again. No harm, no foul. A lesson learned. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, baby Teeby,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss his head gently. “I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“I’ll get you a screen for the window, alright? That way you can keep it open.” 

“You will?” 

“Babe, I love you. Getting you a screen for your window is the least I’d do, right?” He holds your cheek, kissing you while you’re not kissing the cat. Your lips are balmy, and you smell like lavender up close. 

“I keep forgetting he lives with me now, I just assume any noise he makes is my ghost upstairs.” 

“He seems like he’s settling in fine.” He means great. Baby Teeby couldn’t be happier, you’re a good match for one another, affectionate creatures with gentle dispositions. Teeby didn’t do much when Eddie grabbed him besides meow. “Do you like him?” 

“I love having company when I miss you, honey,” you say, catching his eye as you say that pet name. He never imagined somebody could look at him and think something sweet like that. 

“Yeah, but do you like him?” he asks with a laugh, nudging you over to squish next to you on the bed. 

“Obviously I like him, he’s gorgeous. His heart is beautiful. He reminds me of you.” 

“He’s not evil when my back is turned?” 

Your laugh is high-pitched from the suddenness of it, then everywhere. If you laughed like that in public you’d draw stares. “He sleeps on my chest like a baby, Eddie, he’s just like you.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Alright, awesome, you like him, can you stop with the comparisons?”

The cat slinks from under your loving hand into Eddie’s lap. He looks up at Eddie, so different from you, rougher and louder, and he squints his yellowy eyes. 

“Hi, baby Teeby,” he murmurs. 

Teeby relaxes, tail unfurling against Eddie’s chest. 

“See, you’re twin flames. You’re like my two soulmates.” You tap his jaw with the flat of your fingernail. “Though he’s a little more handsome.” 

“I never shoulda got you the damn thing.” 

[love---mandy]

So drawing this took a bit longer then expected cause I lost motivation. BUT so many of y’all have been seeing the vision and I couldn’t be happier,

I’ve got a few more things cooking, delivery is undetermined so please accept this in the meantime.

The Barcha uniform was not computing

(I yoinked a jpg of the ball used for the World Cup, but it also changes each time soooo)

(Edit: I couldn’t live with myself for implying that Yu would’ve gotten distracted for any period of time during one of her son’s games. She watched the whole thing it was just in that moment they were distracted. I’m sorry for even the hint of slander 😭😭😭)

[citricacidprince]

could you draw the courtroom scene with relativity falls? (mabels bubble)

Gladly!!! I’ve already brought up some Stan Weirdmageddon Bubble stuff here, but the equivalent of the Mabel Trial for Stan makes me wanna blow up I just adore it!!

Okay, so first things first, here’s Captain Stan’s design, my precious baby boy <3

Figured it’d be fun to mix some aspects of Grunkle Stan’s Mr. Mystery outfit with a pirate twist, just for fun!

As for the ‘trial’, its more of a argument between two boys who just WONT talk about their issues

Fiddleford, Boyish Dan, and Anjelita are also there, but Stan isn’t mad at them. In fact, he doesn’t even care that they’re breaking the rules by being there, he’s only mad at Ford. He’s mad that Ford was just going to leave him behind and send Stan back to New Jersey by himself while he stayed and studied with their Grunkle Dipper. Leaving Stan all by himself at home. Alone to deal with their father. Alone with no friends. Alone to be the family disappointment.

But no matter how mad he gets at Ford, Stan can’t ever say that he’s hates him, and Stan would give him a million chances to fix things. So, instead of immediately throwing Ford off the deck of his ship, he gives him an ultimatum. A very easy solution to all of this.

All Ford has to do is say that he’s sorry, and Stan would let him go. He won’t leave the bubble because he actually really likes it in there, but he’ll let Ford go.

This.. doesn’t end very well

Stan, absolutely heartbroken, decides to make his brother walk the plank. If he’s dead to Ford, well then Ford is dead to him as well.

However, right before his crew could push Ford into the water, something happened.

You see, when Stan unknowingly gave the rift to Bill he only had one wish. That he’d never be alone again. So when he first appeared in his bubble it was actually completely dark and empty, except for a small light glowing in his hands. It was a little version of Ford. He smiled and laughed just like he did when they were a bit younger, and he said everything Stan wanted to hear.

Very quickly Stan realized he could manipulate the bubble and create anything that he wanted, just like he could back in the Mindscape. So he created what he knew. Glass Shard Beach, New Jerseys. It was full of never ending boardwalks, houses and attractions with silly names, and that beach he loved so much. It didn’t take long after that to realize it was still quite lonely, even with Lil’ Ford (a name he lovingly gave the small version of his brother). However, he didn’t want the town to be full of faceless nobodies or people he actually knew, that’d be weird.

Then he had the genius idea to just fill the town with himself! After all, he never had to worry about himself betraying him or leaving him behind!

Soon the town was overrun with imperfect duplicates of himself and he couldn’t have been any happier.

However, the duplicates were so much like him that it soon made a new problem arise. They started asking about Ford. Like, ‘Where is he?’ ‘Can you make one?’ ‘I miss having him around.’

Stan did have Lil’ Ford hidden under his pirate hat, but he didn’t want to tell the other Stans that he was there. He didn’t know exactly why he kept Lil’ Ford hidden away. Probably a mixture of bitterness and anger still aimed at his real twin brother and a selfishness to keep Lil’ Ford to himself. So he just declared that Fords were banned altogether and left it at that.

This was a problem when right as Stanford was about to pushed off the plank, Lil’ Ford came out from under the Captain’s hat and told Stan to stop all of this.

The two bicker for a moment and some Stans ask who that is, causing Lil’ Ford to happily state that he’s Stanley’s brother, that the two are going to sail the world together, and that he loves Stan very dearly.

This doesn’t go over well with literally any of the Stan on board and it especially doesn’t go over well with Ford

The Stans pull a mutiny and try to kill Stan because they don’t think he should be Captain anymore and one of them should run the town instead.

Hard cut to Boyish Dan, Anjelita, Fiddleford, Ford, and Stan having a high speed boat chase with other Stans and popping the bubble while escaping. (I like to think Stan popped the bubble at the last second with the help of Shanklin <3 )

Stan is NOT happy about having to leave his Weirdmageddon bubble.

“You should have left me in there. I was HAPPY there.”

“Who cares if you were happy, you were living a lie! A sad delusion! You should be happy we pulled you out of there!”

Boyish Dan has it cut in before the two start fighting right then and there

Stan eventually calms down enough to decide that he’s going to save their Grunkle Dipper from Bill, but there is a thick tension between Stan and Ford that last until the huge blow out fight at the Cipher Wheel

A fight that started because Stan wanted Ford to finally say it.

‘I’m Sorry.’

[catmask]

hi! do you have any tips on how to enjoy drawing again without it feeling like a chore and that it has to look good? feel free to ignore this ask !!

im sorry this is such a late response!!

recently ive struggled a lot with this feeling too... theres many things id like to draw and to make, but i experience an immense pressure knowing that theres a lot of peoples expectation riding on those creations now.

sometimes it can be difficult to enjoy drawing, and this month especially i was struggling to even start drawing for the day for hours. id just get paralyzed by this fear of inadequecy or not knowing what was 'good enough' to make

so i took a moment to 'go upstairs' into my own brain and talk to my younger self. every so often they pipe up during the day but i make a habit of talking to them directly once and awhile. and so i asked them, what is it theyd like me to draw, because typically when i do things that make them happy it makes me happier/remember myself again.

and well, unsurprisingly they said i should draw pokemon... i felt a little embarressed of this, i was like, thats all? really? and then they pointed out, thats why we learned to draw in the first place. back when i was their age, we would sit and scroll through deviantart and google images for hours, just starting at peoples pokemon art, trying to recreate it, printing it to trace it, etc...

and that now, i have the skill to draw exactly what younger me wouldve spent hours trying to make. so thats why i decided to do the daily pokemon drawings, because when i feel that creep of fear or pressure crawl towards me, i ask what my younger-me wants to see me draw, and its like everything is easy again. then i can get back to work like its nothing, because ive remembered the reason i learned to draw wasnt to make any of these huge projects, or to impress anyone, it was because i did it because it made me happy. and it still does.

[spooky-pop]

IM SO SORRY FOR SENDING THIS BUT I NEED THE PARENTS REACTION TO GREY IVY

OK so I've received a lot of asks requesting me to draw broppy comforting Ivy, but I'm dishing out a little more angst before then 👀 Because...what if they tried, and it didn't work?

I can picture them resorting to comfort methods that work when shes feeling down, but these simply don't work when she's grey. Being young also means that everything feels so much bigger and so much scarier, and I think she turns grey because of an intense moment of hopelessness. Branch and Poppy know a thing or two about being grey and dealing with it within themselves, but it's an entirely different thing to help their child through it.

I can see them realize how serious it is when she fully rejects every attempt they've made at trying to make her happier. Poppy's method of comfort to Ivy would naturally be hugs, but this time, Ivy doesn't want them.

Branch would resort to trying to make her smile by being silly, because she is a dad's girl and anything he did would make her beam like the sun. But here, she just wants to be left alone.

I WILL make a follow up that shows their next approach in trying to fix this, but their initial reactions to her being grey would probably be slight denial because they don't want to believe their baby feels THIS low.

I'm done breaking hearts now bye!

[mapiforpresident]

Game Night

patri x reader x pina

Your shared apartment was unusually lively tonight. The living room, usually a calm space where you and your girlfriends could cuddle after long training sessions, had been transformed into game night central. The coffee table was cleared of its usual magazines and candles, replaced with board games, card decks, and snacks. Patri, had insisted on organizing the evening.

You were currently arranging the last of the snacks when you felt a pair of hands slide around your waist. “You’ve been working too hard, amor,” Patri murmured, her warm breath brushing against your ear. “Come sit. Everything is ready.”

You turned your head slightly, catching the soft smile on her face and couldn't help but lean in to kiss her. “Just finishing up. Someone has to keep this night running smoothly.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. You glanced toward the door, but Claudia was already sprinting past you. “I got it!”

A flurry of greetings filled the room as Ona and Lucy walked in, followed closely by Mapi and Ingrid, and then the youngsters. Aitana and Alexia trailed in last and you thought you saw a hickey peaking out from Aitana's shirt and Alexia seemed happier than usual but you weren't going to question it.

“Are we ready to crush each other?” Mapi announced, setting a bottle of wine onto the table with a smirk.

“Relax, Mapi,” Ingrid said, rolling her eyes fondly. “It’s just game night.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘just game night,’” Patri muttered under her breath, earning a laugh from you.

~~~

You had barely explained the rules of Pictionary before things descended into chaos. Teams were chosen—Patri, Lucy, and Ona against you, Claudia, and Mapi. Ingrid had volunteered as the judge, sitting back with a wine glass in hand, clearly enjoying the show. The rest of the girls lounged around ready to watch the game

“Alright, first word!” Ingrid said, flipping the timer over.

Patri grabbed the marker and began sketching furiously on the whiteboard. Lucy and Ona leaned in, shouting guesses almost immediately.

“Boat! Sailboat! Canoe!”

“No, no, no!” Patri huffed, erasing part of her drawing and adding something new.

“Paddleboard?” Ona guessed, tilting her head.

“Time’s up!” Ingrid declared, stifling a laugh as Patri groaned.

“It was a submarine! How did you not see it?” Patri gestured dramatically to her admittedly questionable drawing.

Lucy squinted at the board. “That’s a banana with windows.”

The room erupted in laughter, and you found yourself leaning into Claudia’s side as she grinned. “Patri’s competitive streak is showing,” she whispered, her tone teasing.

Your turn came next, and you took the marker with an air of confidence. The word was “elephant,” and you began sketching quickly.

“Tree? No, wait, a flower?!” Mapi shouted before you had even drew a full line.

“It’s obviously a horse,” Claudia added.

“Are you two serious?” you groaned, adding the trunk to your drawing.

“An anteater!”

“A giraffe?”

“Time’s up!” Ingrid announced again, and you turned to your teammates in mock disbelief.

“It was an elephant!” you exclaimed.

Mapi threw her hands up. “Well, your drawing could’ve fooled me.”

Claudia nudged you playfully. “Maybe we’re just bad guessers, amor.”

~~~

Pictionary was abandoned after Mapi and Lucy started bickering over the rules, and someone suggested Uno as a less contentious alternative. It was, in hindsight, a terrible idea.

“Draw 2!” Claudia said gleefully, slapping down her card.

“Why me?” Mapi groaned as she picked the cards up.

“Because you deserve it,” Claudia teased, sticking her tongue out.

You laughed at the playful banter, but your attention was drawn to Patri, who had been suspiciously quiet. She glanced at her hand, then at the stack, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“I’m sorry, mi amor,” she said sweetly, before slamming a wild +4 card onto the pile.

Your jaw dropped. “Patri!”

“What? It’s part of the game,” she said innocently, though the gleam in her eye betrayed her.

“I thought you loved me!” you exclaimed dramatically, drawing your cards as the rest of the team burst into laughter.

Ona, meanwhile, had been plotting her own move as she skipped Lucy's turn.

The room erupted in chaos, with Mapi accusing Ona of stacking the deck after she used 4 skips in a row and Lucy attempting to challenge the legality of her skips. Amid the noise, you leaned back into your chair, Patri’s arm slipping around your shoulder.

“Chaos,” you murmured, though you couldn’t help but smile.

“Fun chaos,” Patri corrected, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

~~~

By the end of the night, the team had mellowed out, the earlier drama replaced by laughter and a few too many bottles of wine. Patri had pulled you onto the couch, her arms wrapped securely around you, while Claudia leaned against your other side.

“This was a good idea,” you said softly, glancing at the remnants of the evening scattered across the room.

Patri hummed in agreement. “Even if Mapi and Lucy nearly killed each other?”

“Especially because of that,” Claudia said, grinning. “What’s game night without a little drama?”

You laughed, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you. These moments, surrounded by your team and snuggled up with your girlfriends, were what made all the hard work worth it.

“Same time next month?” Ona called from across the room.

[ivoovu]

*cough*

Mic Tap

A PSA to all König/Krueger writers:

Hello, I‘m Voov, and I‘m a native German.

And let me just clarify that I do not mean any of this in a offensive matter, and that none of these things are 'annoying' or 'bothersome' to me as a German, which I‘m sure other Germans would agree with me. This isn‘t something that‘s making it impossible for us to read blurbs/fics/etc., however I do know that some writers want to write in foreign languages as accurately and realistically as possible, so this is for those. And for everyone else who‘s just interested, of course

🤍🍪

1 - What I often read is "Exemplary Sentence I can‘t think of something right now but it‘s in English, ja?"

We don’t end our sentences with "[…], ja?". Sometimes, yes, fair, sometimes we do so, but it’s on the rarer side in my opinion. Majority of the time we use this at the end of our sentences:

"[…], nicht?" = "[…], no?" (please don‘t use "[…], nein?" for this one)

or:

"[…], nh?" = honestly this one can be used for a lot of things, it can be used for "[…], no?", "[…], don‘t you think so?" or how the Brits use 'innit', like you‘re trying to prove a point.

(Translation for "[…], don‘t you think so?" = "[…], denkst du nicht auch so?")

I understand that when you type in a "[…], ja?" you‘re translating from the words' English equivalent which is "[…], yeah?", but again, it‘s more common to use "[…], nicht?" instead.

If you use a good mix of "[…], ja?", "[…], nicht?" and "[…], nh?" (and any other word you might want to add to the end of your sentence) instead of sticking to one throughout an entire fic, you‘ll make us Germans a bit happier.

🍙⌛️

2- If you‘re using longer sentences, and the sentences are directed at the Reader, you should clarify beforehand if the Reader is masc or fem. Why? Because a lot of words are gendered in German, so the way they’re conjugated tell us the Gender of the Person:

English: "My perfect Partner."

-> Gender neutral, the reader could be a Man, Woman, in between, on the outside, an Alien race, whatever

If you type this into google translate you get: "Mein perfekter Partner."

-> Masculine. It‘s an instant tell that the reader is a dude.

The female version would be: "Meine perfekte Partnerin."

-> Now we know instantly that this is feminine.

There is no gender neutral, German simply isn’t a language that works that way.

Can you write full sentences without using anything gendered, at all? Yes, absolutely, here‘s an example:

English: "Oh God I love you, I don‘t know what I would do without you. You‘re my everything, I‘ll do anything and everything for you."

German: "Oh Gott ich liebe dich, ich weiß nicht was ich ohne dich machen würde. Du bist mein ein und alles, ich würde alles für dich tun."

This is completely gender neutral because while typing I actively made sure to avoid using anything gendered. But I understand that this is a extremely difficult task to do so for those who don’t speak German, so if you can pull it off, you just earned my highest form of respect, but this isn’t something that us Germans expect of you as a Writer, this is just something I wanted to draw your attention to.

🐰🧳

My point is: If you do any of those two, we Germans aren’t crying about it. We won‘t stop reading the fic, we won‘t bitch about it or send you hate-mail.

We just notice it, correct the sentence in our mind, and some of us will type out the correct sentence as a comment.

I sadly don‘t have any websites that can help with the gendered words, and google translate sucks anyways, so I truly don‘t have any type of direction I could point you writers to, sorry :/

But I have said this before and I‘ll say it again, as many times as I have to: I am absolutely willing to help with the German parts, my dm‘s are always open, no I won’t think you’re annoying or abusing anything by asking me to check the German sentences you might‘ve used in your works, no I‘m not saying any of this out of courtesy, no I‘m not lying, no we don’t have to know each other, no you don’t have to deal with chit chat you can immediately hit me up with 'Hey how is this sentence?', yes I am being serious. In doubt, read this paragraph again and again.

🐚🪵

[perlelune]

Happier Than Ever | Rafe Cameron

Loving Rafe was a rollercoaster you could never get off of. Sometimes thrilling, but mostly terrifying. And some way, somehow, he always found a way to draw you back in for another ride.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Drug Addiction, Drunk Driving, Kook! Reader, Toxic Relationship, Abuse, Emotional Blackmail, Suicidal Talk

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

You smile as Marissa tells her story once more. No matter how many times you hear it, it never gets old.

“Who does that? I mean he didn’t even have his driving license. I was so embarrassed-”

The rest of the girls in the circle you formed in the living room gasp. You nurse your beer before taking another sip. You take a bite of the birthday cake, humming in appreciation of the cinnamon and pineapple undertones. For a minute, you soak it all in. The soft pop pouring from the speakers in your friend’s living room. The casual chatter between friends.

You fold your legs beneath yourself, enjoying your cake in a corner of the couch.

It’s been a while since you’ve been able to enjoy a night like this. Quiet and calm. Not since your breakup. Spending time with your friends always fell to the wayside in your previous relationship, your ex finding issues with how much time you spend with them instead of him. It wasn’t uncommon for you to drop everything whenever he called. Girls’ night outs. Sleepovers. Even birthdays, like today.

He was the sun around which your entire life orbited and he couldn’t stand anything or anyone stealing your attention away. It took you a long time to leave. More than you’re comfortable admitting.

It’s not like things were bad all the time. In fact, most of the time, they were good. Not just good. They were great. So great you easily forgave and forgot. Forgot about the tears. Forgot about the rough hands on your skin. Forgot about the cruel words. Forgot about the screaming and nights lying awake, wondering what you did wrong for him to be so angry at you again.

He was a magician. With the right words and that twinkle in his ocean gaze, he could make all the hurt vanish. Like none of it was ever there to begin with. The same eyes that made you feel small could make your stomach flutter. The same mouth that would praise you could tear you down as easily.

Your heart was never at rest, as you never knew which version of him you’d get on a particular day. The sweet and kind version. Or the paranoid and volatile one.

So many little things could set him off. A throwaway comment from his dad. An argument with his sister. Some stranger's gaze resting on you half a second too long. 

Nothing you did could ever get that chip off his shoulder. No amount of care, patience or love could ever reassure him enough. It was exhausting, which is why you left. Well, more like…ran away. Avoided his side of the island. Ghosted him. Hid away really. 

It’s been a few weeks now. You are slowly retrieving some semblance of peace in your life. It’s easier when he’s not around. Easier to breathe. Easier to move around.

Marissa turns to you.

“I’m so happy that you could make it.”

You beam at her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She pauses, her fingers tapping the side of her beer bottle.

“You did last year,” she points out. 

You tense. Last year. You never even told her what that was about. You were dressed up and ready and he stopped you on your way out, questioning why you were looking this good for “just some chicks’ get-together”. You shudder as the memory flashes through your brain. Needless to say you never made it to your friend’s party.

“Yeah…sorry about that,” you mumble, scratching your arm.

She smiles in reassurance, squeezing your arm.

“It’s okay. But no more missing my birthday, okay?”

“Okay, promise,” you reply, nodding.

The conversation is halted by the buzzing of your phone. Your chest clenches at the sight of the familiar name across the screen. Marissa steals a glimpse from across the couch and tilts her head in disapproval. The two of them were oil and water, never getting along. In fact, she got in his face quite a few times. And he seemed to enjoy riling her up even more.

“Don’t answer that.” She nudges your shoulder. “I already told you, you need to block him.”

In theory, you know you should sever all ties. But you haven’t found the nerve to cross that bridge yet. Sending him straight to voicemail and leaving him on read is the height of what you can achieve right now. Besides, you shudder to think how he’d react to you blocking him. He damn near broke your door down the day after you texted him that you two were over.

“It could be important…” You get to your feet, stepping away from the couch and your friend’s critical stare. “I’m just gonna tell him to stop. I’ll be right back.”

You head to the balcony. You inhale a lungful of courage before swiping to accept the call. 

“Hey, angel. Miss me?” Rafe slurs drunkenly. 

Your brows knit. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re like this, Rafe.”

He barks out a derisive laugh. “You hear this shit, bro? Acting like she cares about me all of sudden.”

Your chest twinges, his words hurting more than they should.

Another familiar voice faintly echoes in the background. 

“Is that Topper?”

Your frown deepens. They both sound too inebriated to be driving anyone home, let alone themselves.

As you ponder if you should call Sarah or Ward, a crashing sound echoes through the phone, the boys’ laughter dying. Your stomach drops. 

“Rafe?” you call. 

You frantically text him. When you get no response, you try Topper. He doesn’t pick up immediately. 

At least twenty minutes slog by in terrifying silence.

Chewing on your thumb, you wait for the call to reach him.

When you finally hear his voice, relief seeps through you. If he’s fine, then Rafe must also be, right?

But your hopes are swiftly pulverized when he informs you that Rafe is being transported to the hospital. Panic flutters through you. You don’t want to care. You and him aren’t together anymore. It’s not your problem…Except it is. You can’t quell the worry pooling in your gut, the racing of your heart at the thought that Rafe could be hurt. Or worse.

Anxiously rubbing your hands, you head back to the living room. Marissa won’t like what you have to say, but dread has wrapped its fist around your heart since you heard that horrifying sound on the other end of the line, and hasn’t eased up since. The not knowing is worse than anything.

Noting the contrite pinch to your face, your friend heaves out a deep exhale.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to see him,” she says.

You chew on your lip. You know how this looks. Like you’re that girl who picks a guy over her friends again. Still, you remind yourself it’s not like the other times. You aren’t together anymore. You’re over him. You’re way past that. You’re just making sure he’s safe.

“I think something happened. Something really bad.”

Marissa shrugs and takes a swig of her beer. You try to ignore her and your other friend’s pointed stares. Their quietness speaks volumes, the weight of their judgment bearing heavily in the room.

“He always does that. Who knows if he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You mean crashed his car on purpose? Marissa, come on…”

She tosses her head backwards, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Whatever. I’m used to you bailing.” She glances at her freshly painted nails. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Her accusation aches but you shove it aside. You bid everyone goodbye and grab your keys from the lobby. 

The entire drive your heart is in your throat, your clammy hands tight around the wheel.

The worst scenarios keep playing in your head like a horrible nightmare. The picture of Rafe, a white sheet draped over his unmoving body, won’t stray from your raging thoughts. Why do you feel like this is your fault? He always had troubles with overindulging in liquor and other party favors. It’s something the two of you often argued about. But he had gotten better about it lately, before the breakup. He’d thrown away the drugs, eased up on the drinking. He was better. It’s part of why leaving felt okay.

Your eyes well up with tears. You wipe them in frustration, focusing on the dark road ahead. 

Sucking a wide breath, you remind yourself. You’re not responsible for Rafe. None of this is your fault.

Still, as you pull into the hospital’s driveway, guilt lingers within you.

Thanks to Topper’s instructions, you find Rafe’s room quickly.

You’re a breathless mess when you arrive, having raced through the white corridors. Sarah and Wheezie hug you as soon as they see you. You return it, having missed them in the last few weeks. You had come to think of the youngest of the Cameron siblings as the little sister you never had. You often went out to have ice cream while she told you of the gossip from her school. As for Sarah, the two of you go way back. While not the closest, you’ve been in the same circles since kindergarten. The puffiness of her brown eyes doesn’t escape you. While there’s no love lost between her and her big brother, she seems as shaken as you are.

Ward greets you with a nod. Meeting his gaze is difficult. He always told you you were a good influence on his son. A good girl from a good family. That you were exactly what Rafe needed to set himself straight and finally grow up. You can tell from the way his blue eyes are trained on you that Ward is a little disappointed, that he expected you to stick it out through the storm with his son. The people-pleaser inside you shrinks a bit at that.

Rose at least appears to empathize with your plight, flashing you a quick smile. She too seems to have cried, which stuns you the most. It’s no secret she and Rafe have never gotten along.

The Camerons make space for you to tiptoe further inside the room.

You take shaky steps towards Rafe. It hurts seeing him like that, hunched over at the edge of the bed in a hospital gown. While he’s not attached to tubes and wires, your chest seizes as you note the sling around his left arm, his busted lip and the long cut running across his brow.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Ward says, gesturing at his daughters to vacate the room.

Silence hangs for a while after the rest of the Cameron clan leaves, giving you and Rafe privacy. Eyes clinging to the floor, you girdle your breath until he speaks.

“You came.”

You look up, Rafe’s cool tone startling you. You approach him.

“Of course I came.”

The muscles of his jaw clench.

“You didn’t have to,” he says curtly.

You cup his cheek, “Rafe-”

He slaps your hand away, his eyes rolling back as he unleashes a heavy sigh.

“Don’t,” he snaps. He sniffs and chuckles but it lacks humor. “I don’t even know why you’re here. You don’t give two shits about me.”

Disbelief strikes you. How could Rafe utter such words after everything you’ve been through together?

Your brows furrow as you graze his arm, whispering softly, 

“That’s not true, Rafe and you know it.”

“Do I?” He taps his temple with his healthy arm, stammering angrily, “C-Cause I had so many thoughts in my head when you left…”

“Rafe-”

“I know we weren’t perfect but I thought we were pretty happy, y’know?” 

A surge of tears presses beneath your lashes.

“We were.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Sometimes. But you weren’t…” Your lip quakes as you’re hit with the remembrance of how bad his mood swings were. You rub your neck, the phantom sensation of Rafe’s fingers squeezing it tight sizzling your flesh. Your voice comes out small. “We weren’t good for each other, Rafe.”

He bites his bottom lip and slowly releases it before sneering, “Bet you’d have preferred if I died tonight, get it all over with.”

“What? How can you even say that?” you say, your pitch spiking with shock.

“Y’know maybe I should…Maybe I should just get my dad’s gun, blow my fucking brains out and stop being such a burden to you.”

He mimics the gesture of shooting a gun through his skull and tears spill over your cheek.

You cradle his face.

“Don’t say things like that, Rafe. Please…” you sob.

“What else am I supposed to say, huh? You left me. Bet you think I’m a fuckup too. Just like my dad.”

“I don’t think that.”

“I wanted to die.”

“Rafe.”

His watery gaze dives into yours.

“When you left, I wanted to fucking die.”

Your breath falters.

“Being without you is hell, angel.” Desperation oozes from his voice. “I just wanted to feel…I don’t know, anything else.” He buries his face in his hand, mumbling under his breath, “I-I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined breaking up with Rafe would send him in such a state. A wave of guilt consumes your insides. Perhaps it was selfish, taking your distance the way you did. 

You place your hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know things were this bad for you. I’m sorry.”

He snorts. “I mean, how could you? It’s not like you answer when I call.”

The air chills around you. Your lips clamp shut at that, your head lowering. You did ignore all of Rafe’s calls. And now you find yourself wondering if there were cries for help, if he was drowning and needed you to pull him ashore. If you had picked up, just once, maybe he wouldn’t be here right now. 

The doctor comes in and you step back. Rafe is thankfully cleared, presenting no concussion or major injuries besides his broken arm. You meet Topper outside and are relieved to find him in much better shape than your ex. Outside of a nasty scrape on his cheek, he’s completely unharmed. 

“Were you drunk too?” you can’t help but ask him.

“I…Yeah, but I wasn’t the one driving.” Topper hesitates, nervous as his eyes meet yours. “Rafe, he…he took some other stuff at the party.”

“I figured,” you sigh.

“He just kept driving faster the more he ranted about you.”

Your chest clenches. You glower at him.

“You’re supposed to be his friends, you and Kelce. You’re supposed to look out for him.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

Your gaze darts around the hospital corridor.

“Where’s Kelce, anyway?”

Topper scratches the back of his neck.

“He…passed out in a bush at the party.”

Your shoulders sag. Typical Kook shenanigans. Not one of those boys could actually behave responsibly. All they ever do is enable each other and egg each other on to do stupid shit. Then they let someone else clean up their mess. Fatigue settles over you. You’ve been here before. 

You glance at your phone. It’s beyond late. You walk up to Ward.

“I should probably go back home now. I only wanted to check on Rafe, make sure he's okay."

Crossing his arms, the Cameron patriarch astounds you when he utters, “Why don’t you stay at Tannyhill tonight?”

You flash a nervous smile.

“Mr. Cameron, Rafe and I-”

“I know you two are broken up, and I get that.” He heaves out a weary sigh as he considers Rafe. “I know my son has…issues, sweetheart, but he always did better around you.” His piercing gaze travels from Rafe to you. “He hasn’t been doing well since you left him.”

You recline into silence. It’s been a while since you’ve seen Rafe look this defeated. It worries you. You have no desire to give him the wrong idea but you also don’t see yourself just going home after hearing the things he shared with you. While you don’t plan on getting back with him, you can’t just abandon him.

“Okay. But just for tonight,” you specify. 

Ward beams at you. “That's all I ask, sweetheart.”

You end up getting into a car with Ward, Rose and Rafe. Wheezie trails behind Sarah, as you let her borrow the keys of your truck to drive Topper back home. She promises to return them to you in the morning. A heavy quiet coats the air as you share the backseat with Rafe, his stepmom sitting in the front with Ward. He’s not even looking at you, his blue eyes glued to the window. Dejected, you twine your hands in your lap. You’re used to that, Rafe ignoring you when he’s upset. But tonight it stings even more, fueling the guilt simmering inside you.

As Ward’s car pulls into the long alley of the Cameron’s mansion, nostalgia tugs at your heart.

Tannyhill was practically a second home to you this past year. Your parents travel a lot for work and Rafe used to coax you into staying with him most nights, just so you’re not alone.

You don’t even think as you follow Rafe to his bedroom, your feet carrying you absently since you’ve done it so many times before.

You inspect the room. Nothing’s changed since the last time you were here.

He grimaces as he struggles to remove his clothes while wearing the sling.

“I can’t get this fucking shirt off,” Rafe grumbles.

You trudge up to him.

“Let me help you.”

Rafe observes you, falling strangely quiet while you slip off his shirt for him. Your cheeks heat when you do the same for his pants. 

When you’re done, you try to head for the door.

Rafe’s hand clutches yours, halting your departure.

“Stay… please, angel? You can wear one of my shirts like you used to.”

A forlorn expression decorates his features. Despite your best efforts, it tugs at your heartstrings.

You gnaw on your lip. “It’s probably best if I stay in the guest room.”

His thumb sweeps over the inside of your palm.

“I won’t try anything funny, I swear…if that’s what you’re worried about.” His brows draw together. “I’m just in so much pain, and I can barely move my arm.”

You unleash a resigned breath.

“You promise to stay on your side of the bed?” When a playful smile creeps on his lips, your tone sharpens. “Rafe, I’m only here as your friend. I’m serious.”

His gaze narrows, suspicion sneaking in his tone. “Why? You’re like seeing somebody now or some shit?”

“No, I’m not.” You pause before adding cheekily, “And even if I were, it’d be none of your business.”

His cheek pulses.

A flicker of jealousy ignites his gaze, indicating that, in Rafe’s opinion, who you're seeing now is still very much his business. But his features smooth over quickly, his voice mellowing.

“I’d just feel better if you slept next to me, angel. I don’t feel like I’m asking for much, am I?” He pauses before sneering, “Or do you hate my fucking guts so much that I can’t even ask for a little favor?”

“I don’t hate you, Rafe.”

He cocks his head, hope lacing his deep timbre.

“Really? You don’t?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” you admit.

A wide grin blooms on his face at that. He curls his hand around your waist, pulling you a little closer. 

“Then prove it. Stay with me tonight.”

His blue eyes are honest, pleading. Your resolve thaws like ice in the summer heat. 

“Fine,” you yield. You gear yourself to leave, announcing, “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

The hand on your waist tightens as he teases, “Why not here? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before-”

“Rafe,” you scold, prying his fingers off your waist.

He snickers, lifting his hand. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

A pang of melancholy pierces your chest when you pick one of Rafe’s shirts to wear in bed. It feels a little weird sharing a bed with him when you’re not together anymore.

When you step out of the bathroom, you steal a glance at him. The blanket only covers half of his body, exposing the bare, suntanned muscles of his chest. You ignore Rafe’s smirk as he catches your lingering gaze. Averting your eyes, you make your way to your side of the bed.

You slip under the covers, reassured that he’s respecting your wishes by giving you space. But it doesn’t last.

In the middle of the night, you’re forced to berate him for breaking the boundaries you set.

His good arm snakes around you, his broad chest draping over your back.

“Rafe…”

He nuzzles your neck from behind, humming as he basks in your smell. “Please, just let me have this,” he begs.

You sigh. You don’t have it in you to deny Rafe tonight. Not when he could have died. Not when you feel some responsibility for that. 

“Okay, but no wandering hands.”

He nods and snuggles even closer to you. You can’t help but grow a bit dizzy as the familiar scent of Rafe’s cologne clogs your senses.

You close your eyes and drift into sleep.

In the morning, you wake up to Rafe dragging his fingertips along your cheek, an entranced expression etched on his features.

“I missed waking up like this,” he rasps.

For a while, as you get lost in how bright and blue his eyes look in the soft morning glow, you forget. Remembrance settles over you however when Rafe’s thumb travels to your bottom lip. This is the kind of thing you can’t allow anymore.

Clearing your throat, you sit up and remove his hand from your face.

“Well don’t get used to it.”

Rafe’s brows crumple. “Ouch. When did you get so mean, angel?”

“I learnt it from you.”

He actually seems taken aback by that, speechless as he gapes at you.

His surprise allows you to make a beeline for the bathroom.

“Dibs on the first shower,” you chime, slamming the door closed before he can make another comment that sends your heart in a frenzy.

You use Rafe’s time away in the bathroom to focus on another task. A very important task. One you call the post-bender sweep. It’s a little tragic that you even have a name for it, or that you’ve had to do it so often. So you roll up your sleeves and begin rummaging through all of Rafe’s drawers. No corner of the room is left unchecked.

It’s how he finds you as he steps out of the shower, damp blonde locks grazing his forehead, the towel hanging low on his tapered waist. 

Confusion fills his cobalt eyes. 

“What are you doing?”

“I know you weren’t just drunk last night Rafe. Topper told me everything.”

“Fucking snitch,” Rafe hisses. He inches closer to you. “Look, I’m gonna get it together, alright?”

You crouch near the bed and reach under the mattress. Rafe’s face goes taut as you feel between the wooden slats. “Angel-”

Your fingers dislodge a plastic bag between the slats. You examine its insides. 

“Coke, expected. Well that…is new. Is that meth?” you list sourly. You wish you could say you were disappointed. Instead, you’re just exhausted and vaguely angry. This is a step back. A huge one. “This is poison, Rafe.”

You get to your feet and dash to the bathroom. As you empty every ounce of powder, crystals and every single pill into the toilet bowl, Rafe grips the side of his head. Panic flickers on his face.

“That’s 10k down the drain.”

“Well, Barry can go through me. I’m not letting you do this to yourself again.”

You flush the toilet and meet his eyes. Their intensity has you shifting in discomfort.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

His lips slowly curve upward.

“You still care about me.”

Your heart skips a beat. You blink and shuffle away from the toilet. False hopes, you recall, you weren’t supposed to give them to him. You decide to steer him away from that line of thought.

“Of course I do,” you reply. “You’re my friend.”

Rafe’s smile vanishes. His tone becomes clipped. “Friends, huh? Okay.”

Your plans to only stay the night are thwarted at breakfast. After sharing a copious meal with the Camerons, Ward pulls you aside, practically begging you to prolong your presence at Tannyhill for his son’s sake. 

“You and I both know he needs you, sweetheart.”

At first, you’re hesitant. This wasn’t the plan. You’ve fought so hard against the instinct not to put Rafe’s needs and wants before your own. Tooth and nail quite frankly. The first week after your breakup, not picking up when he called made you physically ill.

You wept about it for days, and almost ran right back into his arms. Without your friends, you probably would have.

Now, your life’s back on track. You can breathe again. You’re happier. The crippling fear of what Rafe would say or think does not hover over your every move anymore.

When Sarah returns your truck’s keys, you consider driving yourself back home and never looking back. Your fingers curl around the keys. It’s right there beneath your palm, your freedom. But there’s just one tiny issue. Rafe’s misty eyes catch yours across the table. And in less than a second, you don’t belong to yourself anymore.

So you remain at Tannyhill much longer than you’d like, taking care of Rafe and spending nights in his arms. The ambiguity of the situation fosters doubts in your mind, threatening the fragile equilibrium you found.

So as soon as Rafe’s noticeably improved, you elect to go back home. One morning, you rise with the sun and start collecting all the things you left behind in his room. It’s imperative to create some distance between you and him again. After all, you’ve gone above and beyond. Initially, this was about checking on your friend. A blind man could see that Rafe wants more than that however. You fear things will spiral to a point of no-return if you don’t leave now. You did so well these last few weeks, getting over Rafe. Or trying to at least. Now all that hard work is on the rocks.

Displeasure paints Rafe’s features as he watches you shove as many of the stray objects you scattered in his space inside your bag. You ended things so abruptly the first time that you never bothered coming back to collect everything you left in Rafe’s room.

“Come on, you could stay a little longer,” he pleads.

“It’s time for me to go home, Rafe.”

“Then just stay the night. You can leave tomorrow.”

“Rafe, it’s been well over a week.”

He sucks his teeth, sniggering meanly, “That excited to be rid of me, huh?”

Your forehead creases.

“It’s not like that.”

Rafe scoffs, “Nah, I get it. You’ve moved on and you never want to see me again, right?”

“Rafe…”

His fingers thread through yours, drawing you back to him. Towering above you, he whispers, “It's just one night. It won’t be different from the other ones. I just want to be able to feel you one last time.”

You purse your lips. You could never say no to anything Rafe asks when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his lifeline, the only thing keeping his head above water. 

It's probably not a great idea. Rafe’s been getting handsier than you’d like these last few days, and you didn’t have the heart to push him away. But what’s one more night? You’ll be gone tomorrow anyways.

“Okay,” you concede.” But I’m really leaving tomorrow.”

A victorious grin breaks out on his face.

“Of course, angel.”

At first, your last night at Tannyhill does indeed seem like the others. You slip under the covers next to Rafe, as you’ve done every other night. His light snores fill the room, his arm finding its way around your waist. Like always. You’ve gotten used to this. You don’t protest, finding comfort in the knowledge you’ll be done with everything Rafe Cameron the next day.

So you let him get close once more. His heat encases you as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. You don’t even give much thought to the thick bulge poking the small of your back. This is Rafe. He grows hard half the time when you cuddle. Usually, you get him to back off with a frown and a light shove on his chest.

But tonight’s different.

He starts rubbing against you, his hand sneaking below the shirt covering your body.

“Rafe? What are you doing?” you whisper, your voice high-pitched from shock.

“Shh, quiet, angel,” he hushes, trailing sloppy, heated pecks along your neck and shoulder.

“Rafe, you can’t…” Your voice dwindles to a gasp when his digits creep between under your ass, teasing your folds through your panties. He pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingertips. You bite down a sharp cry. 

“I said I wanted to feel you one last time, angel.”  

He shoves a finger inside your panties and sinks between your walls. The embarrassing squelching of your cunt echoes in the room, Rafe beginning to pump inside you at a steady pace. Naturally, he knows exactly how to move his fingers to turn you into a panting, shivering mess against him. You try to resist it, ignore the fire rising in your core, but your skin is easily set ablaze by Rafe’s familiar touch. Your belly knots. Tingles bloom on your flesh. He sweeps along your tender spots and you choke on your spit.

Heat gathers in your face as you grow slicker beneath Rafe’s hand.

He tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Rafe shifts position. He places himself above you and shimmies out of his boxers. Alarm bells ring inside your head when his thick tip prods at your entrance.

“Rafe…”

Words wither on your tongue as he buries his cock inside you in one blunt thrust. A quiet scream flies from your mouth, your chest heaving.

“Don’t be like this,” Rafe grunts, arrogance dripping from his lustful timbre. “I know you’ve been missing how my fat cock feels inside that tight little pussy, right?”

“We’re broken up, Rafe,” you wheeze out, struggling to catch your breath as your walls strain at his size.

“So?” He pulls out of you, only to sheathe himself inside your wet heat again. Your eyes roll back, your fingers clutching weakly at the sheets.

Rafe’s half-lidded gaze darkens as he drinks you in, his tone getting possessive.

“You’re in my bed, wearing my shirt. I’d say that makes you mine.”

The protests on your tongue evaporate, your thoughts dipping into a tailspin as Rafe slams his cock inside your dripping cunt. Desperation and lust marks each of his deep, pointed thrusts. Your head tosses over the pillows.

Stars fill your sight, pleasure swirling through your limbs. Air dwindles in your lungs as he stretches you out deliciously. His thick cock brushes against your sweet spot repeatedly and your lids flutter. Rafe’s own breaths grow more ragged. His throat bobs, his hard muscles clenching with his motions. He balances his arm above your head, looming over you as sweat dots on his brow.

His warm breath grazes your face as he chuckles.

“It’s like coming home, right? Like I never left.”

“I’m gonna get my shit together. I swear to you, angel.” He rests his forehead against yours. Rafe’s masculine scent floods your senses and your mind spins. You keen as he snaps his taut hips into yours, helpless as Rafe cages you with his frame. “Just don’t leave me again, okay? Please, I need you.”

Over the next few weeks, while his arm is healing, you and Rafe relapse into old habits. First, it’s that night at his house, the one that stirs your unease for a while. Then it’s a quickie in the back of his truck after he offers to drop you off one day. Progressively, it becomes more than that. Dates and late night calls, like before. 

Rafe complaining to you for hours about Sarah or the weight of his dad’s expectations. Rafe sending flowers to your doorstep. Rafe making butterflies swarm in your stomach when he tells you that you’re the only one who understands him.

The walls you erected crumble day by day, shattered by his persistence to win you back. He showers you with gifts and attention on a near daily basis now, even going as far as planning the most romantic evening for Valentine’s day. Though you had plans with your friends, Rafe is so adamant to have you all to himself that you ditch Galentine's day cocktails to be with him.

Slowly but surely, the Cameron heir weasels his way back into your heart. 

Most of your friends aren’t thrilled with your decision, of course. Marissa in particular.

“Guys like him don’t change,” she tells you one night as he’s blowing up your phone with texts inquiring about your whereabouts. You fervently disagree. He’s just worried about you, you convince yourself. That's how much he cares.

Of course Rafe has changed. He’s earning your trust, one day at a time. He has his temper in check. He’s better now. He’s proven it several times.

Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

Besides, though you struggle to admit it, there’s something intoxicating about being Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend. A feeling so heady and electric. One you shamefully kind of missed.

You trust Rafe. Those are the words that keep playing in your mind as you wait for him downstairs. You fiddle with your solo cup, taking a tiny sip of your beer. Techno music blares from the speakers in Kelce’s living room. The girls next to you gossip about a crush on some guy you don’t know. You feign interest, giving a dull nod and a smile every now and then. Lavish, hedonistic Kook parties aren’t exactly your scene anymore. Rafe practically had to drag you here.

The initial plan was to meet with your friends tonight. But Rafe closed off when you told him that. He then pleaded with you to come. You caved in, because refusing him has been incredibly difficult since the accident. So you’ve stopped trying to argue with him. 

You go along with most of what he asks, even if it stirs your discomfort at times. 

You glance at the time on your phone. 

Rafe said he needed to go to the bathroom earlier. 

That was nearly thirty minutes ago. Your brows draw together. Taking a leak shouldn’t take that long in theory, right? Or are you this paranoid now?

Still, you can’t quell the dread tickling your insides. A sense of deja vu seeps through you.

Your feet carry you upstairs, guided by your urgent need to find Rafe. 

Kelce’s house is huge and you nearly get lost multiple times. Your cheeks flame as you stumble upon a couple in one of the guest rooms. You hastily apologize and slam the door shut, resuming your search. It takes you a long time of blind wandering through endless corridors before you find him. 

He’s indeed in a bathroom. At least that, he didn’t lie about…unlike the line of coke he’s snorting above the sink.

“Rafe?” you call, frozen on the doorstep. “What are you doing?”

A brief glimpse of panic flits across his face before he bursts out in laughter.

He makes his way to you and tilts your chin upward.

“It’s a party, I’m just having fun. You should try it sometime.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not the point. You promised...”

Rafe sniffs, wiping the remnants of white powder beneath his nose.

“Come on, just relax.” He crowds your space, placing his hands on each side of you on the door. It slams shut as Rafe presses his body against yours, his voice sinking to a lewd rasp. “Why don’t you and I get into the hot tub downstairs and…”

“No,” you assert. “You promised, Rafe. No more drugs.”

When he tries to cup your cheek, you shove his hand away. His jaw clenches.

“Why do you always have to be such a stuck up bitch?”

An astonished breath leaps off your throat.

“I’m sorry?”

Instead of apologizing, a broad grin stretches on his lips, “I’m just saying. Maybe you’re the one who needs to loosen up.”

You note the hollowness in Rafe’s eyes and the sweat glistening over his bare skin.

Tears rush to your eyes. You’ve learnt to recognize the signs. Empty promises, like always. Why did you expect things to be different this time?

You jump back from the door, slipping beneath Rafe’s arm. Wiping irate tears, you glare at him.

“This was a mistake. My friends were right. You’re never going to change.” 

You are such a fool. The depth of his deception didn’t hit you until you saw him bent over that sink. You caught him this time. Who knows how many times Rafe lied right to your face?

Once more, you allowed him to drag you into his spiral, offering no resistance and believing every sweet word and promise.

Closing your eyes, you suck in a deep breath. You think back to the last few weeks, to every time you surrendered an inch and Rafe took a mile. And you just let it happen. You land on a decision. This is the last time you let Rafe Cameron puppeteer his way back into your life.

You make a beeline for the exit. He impedes your path, towering over you as he stands before the door.

“Get out of my way, Rafe,” you hiss.

Rafe squints at you, taking slow, threatening steps towards you.

“Why? So you can leave me, again?” Something lurks in Rafe’s gaze, turning his blue eyes almost black. Chills crawl over your spine. You shrink, retreating as far as the restricted space in the bathroom allows. “No way, you’re not leaving me.”

You chew on your lip, a surge of adrenaline spiking through your veins. You try to run past him but he grabs your wrists and slams you harshly against the bathroom wall.

Your voice comes out a quivering sob.

“Rafe, don’t you dare…”

As you try to wrestle out of his hold, he bangs your head against the tiles. Sharp needles of pain pierce through your skull. You grow dizzy as your legs start shaking. Rafe uses the momentum to push you onto the floor. 

“Dare what, huh? Take what’s mine?” he snarls. His broad body drapes over yours. You taste the liquor on his tongue as he steals your lips in a rough, possessive kiss. A sick laugh leaves him when you bite his lip, drawing blood. A metallic taste fills your mouth. Through your hazy sight, you watch with horror as Rafe unbuttons his pants. 

He reaches under your dress, tearing your panties with one tug of his hand. Fear floods your veins. You writhe underneath him as he guides his length to your entrance.

“I think you’re forgetting, angel. You’re nothing without me.” His taunting whisper sears into your skin like a hot knife. “I made you, little Kook princess.”

Your mouth opens, a scream building in your throat. But it never makes its way past your lips, Rafe wrapping his hand around your neck as he impales you on his cock. Helpless whimpers roll off your tongue as he sets an unforgiving pace right away, ignoring each of your tearful pleas for him to stop. His scalding breaths ghost over your face. Beads of sweat drip from his skin to yours. Sobs shake your frame as you writhe beneath him, left with no other choice but to be the vessel for his anger and lust.

“I need you, just like you need me,” he mumbles hotly, trailing bites and kisses alongside your neck. The room dims around you with each painful stab of Rafe’s cock inside your bruised core.

The hand around your neck tightens, Rafe’s wrathful baritone edging on a roar.

“Don’t you ever try to leave me again. I won’t be able to take it, angel. In fact…” His lips skim over your earshell as he whispers, “I’d rather fucking kill you and myself before letting you walk out on me again.”

[honeyhotteoks]

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

chapter thirteen: all the words you never said

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

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

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

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

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

word count: 8.8k

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Hwa,” You soften, “I’m fine,” 

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

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

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

“Mhm,” 

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

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

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

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

A beat stretches between you and you nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coffee,” Yunho replies. 

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

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

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

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

“Am I?” He looks confused.

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

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

“What does that mean?” You press him. 

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

“Hwa,” You shake your head. 

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

“Is everything okay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your hands?” 

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

“The police?” You straighten up. 

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

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

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

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

“Pointed?” Seonghwa fills in. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I do,” 

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

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

“Okay,” He sighs, “okay, good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” 

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

“Hwa,” You murmur. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You fired him?” Your eyebrows raise. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Entitled little prick,” Mingi curses. 

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

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

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

“Seonghwa,” You murmur. 

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

“Jesus,” You breathe. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Seonghwa,” You sigh. 

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

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

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

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

“Is everyone else alright?” You murmur. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Covered?” Mingi’s voice tightens. 

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

“You’re seriously going?” Mingi repeats. 

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

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

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

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

“My what?” Seonghwa glances down at you. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you?” He clarifies. 

“Not like that,” You shake your head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” You soften at that.

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

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

Your heart twists, knowing exactly what he means. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of,” 

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

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

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

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

Seonghwa snorts softly, but stays quiet. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” 

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

“Okay,” You squeeze him tighter. 

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

“I will,” You nod. 

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

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

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

“Thank you, Seonghwa, really,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” You breathe. 

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

“Mingi,” 

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

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

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

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

“Yunho,” You manage. 

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

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

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

“Still?” You hitch on the word. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stays silent. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It can wait,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then,” 

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

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

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

Mingi nods, his eyes opening. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, “Anything you want,” 

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

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

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

“I’m being serious,” He says. 

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

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

“Same,” Mingi rests his head on yours. 

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

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

Mingi nods in quiet agreement. 

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

“Always,” Yunho nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. 

“You were there again?” He clarifies. 

“Yeah,” 

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

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

“Mhm,” Mingi murmurs. 

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

“Do you remember anything?” Yunho asks. 

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

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

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

Mingi’s hand finds yours in the dark. 

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

His thumb brushes over the back of your hand. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the dark, things are always easier. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They did,” 

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

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

“Okay,” 

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

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

“Oh,” Your tight fists unfurl. 

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” He nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

“So are you,” Mingi says easily.  

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

“No,” You answer immediately. 

“That’s enough for me,” 

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

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

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

Your body unknots in their hands, “Okay,” 

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

“That’s everything,”

The room feels lighter with nothing between you.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the dark, you make them this little promise.