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strwbrryblues · 3 years ago

Text

A Budding Romance

Pairing: Lee Minho | Lee Know x Fem!Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Fluff, Slight angst, Fantasy AU, Medieval AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining

Additional Tags: Florist!Minho, SoonDoongDori can talk (kinda), SKZ 00z and Jeongin aged down, Minju Jungwoo Minho pretty besties, It’s honestly more like idiots to lovers tbh, Cameos from other group's members

Warnings: Talk of insecurities, SeungJin puppy love (yes gonna put that as warning in case some of you are not comfortable), This was not proofread properly, so if there are any kinds of typos, please ignore it (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)

Word Count: 12.8k

Synopsis: In which it’s not only flowers that bloom in spring, but feelings as well. However, you’ve only just realized that they’ve always been there

A/N: This kind of got out of hand hhhhhh I was planning to keep it short and simple but I wanted to add a lot of elements and description, so I got carried away 😭 Also, I still am visibly confused if Soonie Doongie and Dori are all male or female because I believe that Koreans don’t usually use fem or male pronouns sooo.... yeah you’ll see me almost have a crisis with that 💀

By the way, go check out the other fics from @bruh-changbin ‘s spring fling collab once they’re posted! 🥺💗

[Spring Fling Masterlist]

Spring has arrived. The remnant cold that the winter season had left lingered on the streets for weeks, and it was just the right amount of coolness to battle the sun’s heat.

Minho, upon the early kiss of the sun’s rays, had already set up his little flower shop at the corner of Levanter Street. The place was perfect to catch the eyes of any passerby, as the place was decorated with the newly blooms of spring. And it was around this time that customers alike would pick out from his bunch.

Mothers who usually finished up their spring cleaning would buy a couple or three bouquets they would set on their vintage vases. Men and women pick single stems of flowers as a gift for their newly love, or bouquets to celebrate one’s anniversary. Even witches pass by, their brooms speeding to a stop to look for Minho’s rare plants they can use for their crafts.

To say spring was the busiest season for his little flower shop would truly be an understatement. And so, he had to look for someone to be his apprentice.

After consulting with his friend, Jungwoo—the coffee shop owner just beside his shop—they both decided to put up posters, calling out for new hires. The poster being nicely made by you—Minho’s long time childhood friend.

You three gathered around the side of Minho’s flower shop. His cats trailed along, all three sitting down to watch in curiosity the huddle that formed.

“You know, I clearly don’t see the point of you looking for hire when I’m literally right here.” You frowned, hands both resting on your hips as you still formulated the reason for Minho looking for help, when you can do it yourself; considering your job is a night shift at most, you don’t really have anything else to do during daytime.

Jungwoo, who stood at the opposite side of Minho, crossed his arms as well. “Yeah, you can have Y/n at your beck and call, no need for the awkwardness stage if you ever find a recruit.”

You gave an unimpressed look at the taller boy, “really? I’m at his ‘beck and call’?” His choice of words made you look at him pointedly, while he just shrugged and gave you his signature princely smile.

Minho, who was in the middle of you two, was building up a headache from the constant noise. He averted his gaze from the poster he’d just put up, now pinching the bridge of his nose as he clenched his eyes shut.

And while you and Jungwoo bickered, a fourth person entered the scene, specifically another friend in your little group.

“Minho’s looking for help?” Minju asked, dressed in her maid outfit, minus the apron, as she was about to head to the daycare for work. “I thought Y/n was actually getting paid for always helping? I actually think he doesn’t need any more helping hand.”

At this, both you and the taller boy you’ve been bickering with, turned to the new addition to the huddle, agreeing in chorus.

“See! I told you, Lee Minho!” You laughed almost maniacally while pointing at him. The victorious grin not leaving your face as you went back inside the flower shop, Soonie, Doongie, and Dori following you inside as you called them for their breakfast. “I’m always right!” You hollered, the noise being muffled by the glass windows.

The three who were left outside looked puzzled at the bellow of laughter you let out. But then brushed it off, as it was very normal for them at this point.

“Well, you men figure out what you want.” Minju said, gathering her skirt and clutching tightly on the stack of book that was strapped together by leather, resting on her back. “I’m off to work. Mrs. Yang sent an owl earlier, saying that Jeongin manifested his powers and that we need to keep an eye on him in case he blows anything up.”

Jungwoo looked baffled, as he uttered in disbelief, “blow things up? What?”

Minju shrugs, “beats me. Seungmin blew up Jisung’s toy top last time.” The girl had her fair share of the disastrous kids at the daycare. Just last month, the little alchemist - Seungmin, had blown up Jisung’s top, and the management still had to figure out how it happened. In short, Minju wasn’t even surprised anymore.

The two boys watched their friend leave for work after bidding her goodbye. The taller boy then turned to Minho, “you know, I get that you need the extra help an all, but Y/n really is suited for you.” Jungwoo said. “Not just work wise.” He added, winking at the boy meaningfully as he watched the tip of his friend’s ear, burn bright red at his comment.

Minho groaned, as if he wasn’t thrown off guard just earlier. Of course, he can’t hide his emotions well, especially when his ears always give it away. “You know, it’s better if you just shut up and go back inside your shop and start making coffee. I’ll have my usual order.”

Jungwoo just chuckled, knowing full well that the order he was talking about was specifically for you. His friend has always been like that, ordering coffee—or breakfast at that—for the two of you, and insists he just does it out of convenience, and not because he’d taken a romantic liking to you.

Flashing a grin at the slightly shorter boy, Jungwoo went back to his café to set things up. As for Minho, he went back inside to his shop, to see you sitting on the floor with the cats. Seeing you get along with his cats always tugged at his heartstrings and made his stomach flip in happiness.

“Get your ass off the floor. You’re getting my floor dirty.” He contrasted the feelings he felt inside to what he just said. In truth, he wanted you to stay there longer, and maybe he’ll sit with you and play with the cats as well.

You stood up however, much to his dismay. “You’re such a meanie. If you keep being like that, no one’s going to work for you.” You placed your hands on your hips, and frowned at him.

Oh, how Minho wanted to kiss that frown away from you, but he had to keep it all in.

“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you still be asleep?” He changed the topic, going around the counter to take his spell book, preparing to cast his daily spell on the shop; a spell that sets the mood of the shop, so customers enjoy their short time inside the shop, and feel at peace.

“I would still be asleep, if only Jungwoo had not barged in my house at the wee hours of the morning; asking me to finish and duplicate that poster.” You grumbled.

At the news, Minho stopped his spell midway, frowning at the news. He concluded that he’d have to reprimand his friend for cutting short your precious sleep. “Then go back home and sleep, doofus.”

You shook your head, “no thanks. I’d rather be here, it’s relaxing.” You sat down again, the cats crowding you once more for attention and affection. “You go and try making and serving drinks all night to drunkards, and see if you don’t find this place calming.”

The thing was, you worked the late shift for a local pub, run by someone you were close to. Even if you hated the scene and alcohol in general, you enjoyed the music that was played by a very locally known bard. Staying until late at dawn, but you still bother to get up early to help out with Minho in his flower shop.

“If you insist,” Minho shrugs, having done with his daily spell. Oh, but his inner self wanted to just drag you to his room upstairs—where he’d made the second floor of the shop his homely space to save money—and tuck you in his bed to sleep, so he knew you were well rested. “Pick up my order from Jungwoo.” Minho left the topic as quickly as possible, to avoid him from blurting out a confession.

You quickly stood up, saluting him, before dusting away on your skirt and running out of the shop.

Minho watched your figure leave the shop completely, and to the shop next door. Once he was sure no one was around, he knocked his head on the counter top, letting out a strangled groan. His ears flushed so hard; he was sure it was hot to the touch.

“Oh, my heavens,” he sighed, cheeks resting on the cold surface of the wooden counter. “I can’t believe I’ve fallen for my best friend.” Minho whined to himself.

He didn’t know when he fell for you, other than the fact that he suddenly finds everything you do to be endearing and heart fluttering.

Soonie, his eldest cat, meowed at him. An amulet he was wearing, that was cast with a spell. allowed him to understand the language of cats, and was able to decipher the meow to be a, “just suck it up and confess to her then.”

Minho glared at his eldest. “I can’t just do that. I’d be ruining what we have now.”

Doongie, his second eldest cat, leaped on the counter and started meowing loudly. “You dumbass! How are you so sure that she doesn’t even feel the same way?”

The eldest cat meowed as well, backing up Doongie’s complaint, “yeah. She’s literally the only person who’s willing to spend all her free time on you despite you always saying you don’t like her company.”

His youngest, Dori, amidst the noise of the two eldest, only rubbed its face gently on Minho’s legs, purring loudly as he let out a silent mew, “I like her. I want her to be our mommy, because she takes care of us really well.”

Minho almost died at how cute Dori was. He was about to reply when you barged in, two hot mugs in hand, while a tray of both your breakfast was balancing on your head.

Minho was quick to stand from his seat, taking the tray off your head as he clicked his tongue. “Stop doing things like this or else you’d end up breaking things.” Or you could get hurt. And he would absolutely be disheartened about that.

You apologized sheepishly, pulling a stall towards the counter and hopping on to it. You placed down the mug, waiting for Minho to place down the tray as well.

Once Minho approached the inner side of the counter, he pulled his stall as well, placing the tray and then sitting down. He took your plate of food and placed it in front of you as he placed his in front of him.

You hummed in satisfaction as the scent of eggs and freshly baked bread filled your nose. Quickly, you dig in, another hum resonating from you as you seemed pleased with the way the food was thoroughly prepared. Sipping on the mug carefully, the hot cocoa drink flowed down your throat, sending you comfort and warmth against the nipping coolness of the spring breeze.

“Isn’t today just lovely?” You let out a sigh of content, before continuing to eat.

Minho could almost see flowers blooming around you like spring time. It fluttered his heart, making him want to just pinch your cheeks and coo at you. But the crumbs of bread that littered at the corners of your mouth was enough to distract and bother him. His hand up and moving unconsciously to wipe them off.

“You’re such a messy eater.” He said, now his other hand grabbing the sides of your jaws to halt your movement. The gesture catching you off guard; the beats of your heart suddenly skyrocketing.

After brushing away the crumbs, Minho went back to eating his breakfast as if not an intimate moment had just occurred. His ears begged to differ, however. But you wouldn’t notice that, considering you’re stuck in a conundrum of your own.

Doongie meowed, and Minho thanked the heavens you don’t understand the cats, because the mischievous second eldest just said something really suggestive, that both flushed Minho’s ears to be redder than it was, all the while having the urge to just throw something at the cat for embarrassing him further.

The awkward tension that rouse was interrupted when the clinking of the shop’s bell reverberated around the room. Minho was only then woken with the realization that he had already flipped the “open” sign minutes ago. The bell signaled the arrival of a customer, who had disappeared in between the tall shelves where Minho usually grouped all gardening tools.

“Welcome to Soonie, Doongie, and Dori’s Flora! We hope you’re having a blooming day!” You cheered out the shop’s name, along with the catchphrase you came up with—specifically you, Jungwoo, and Minju, as Minho wasn’t really on the more creative side in terms of literature.

As much as Minho hated that greeting, whenever it was you, it just seemed right. You, and the word “bloom” just fit together in the same sentence. So, always having you say the assigned greetings to the customer was much to his pleasure.

While he was spacing out again in thought of how very beautiful you looked just now, the customer emerged from the aisles, a small rake and a couple of clay pots in hand. You halted eating your breakfast as you quickly tended to the customer.

“I didn’t think you’d need more help Minho?” The old lady spoke—one of Minho’s usual customers in the shop, who you were also familiar with. “Y/n here seems to be a lot of help already.”

This snapped Minho out of his thoughts, only to witness you giggling. It was cute, but he knows there was some hidden mischief behind your laugh.

“That’s what I told him granny! He’s very stubborn, it’s very annoying.” You huffed, though not meaning it. Minho only rolled his eyes at you, finishing his breakfast quickly and gulping down the remains of his now lukewarm coffee—which he found the temperature to be revolting.

“I guess it’s also not bad to get more help, especially during the spring season,” the older woman closed her eyes, chuckling. “You deserve a rest too, little lady.”

Now you huffed out, feeling helpless at the fact that the older woman made a somehow valid point. That made Minho snicker at you, he can’t help but feel the need to stick his tongue out at you just to add fuel to the fire.

After Minho had set aside his used dishes, he took over your work after you’ve totaled the balance in which the woman had to pay. Minho gathered the trinkets the woman picked out, tying them in a green ribbon before casting a light spell—one that lightens the weight of any heavy material for a period of time—and handing it to the older woman.

The spell wasn’t really necessary as the woman can manage a few trinkets, but Minho felt the need to, after noticing that the woman kept on twisting her wrist in discomfort. In addition, with spring heavy on its way, people right now are keener to observe the changing trends and prices of materials and foods alike; sending almost everyone into a shopping spree in the local market place. In this case, the sweet old lady who now just left, would be more likely to roam the market, carrying more and more things as she buys. And Minho wanted to lessen the burden of the old lady by adding a simple light spell on the things she bought from his shop.

He does the same to every other customer that went through the day, especially those who purchased bulks and bulks from him. You mostly wrote down the receipts and recorded every transaction, as well as doing the sweeping and some watering of the plants on display. Minho arranged and wrapped up bouquets upon customers’ request; having more knowledge in the field.

Whenever he does so, you can’t help but stare at him in silent fascination at how knowledgeable the boy is about flowers, their language, and the perfect complement for each. You watch him work on a customer’s request after having done recording the transaction.

His nimble fingers worked gently in arranging each stalk, being careful in hopes of not breaking a stem. And with the gentle afternoon light cascading his features, you were entranced. To the point where you start feeling your chest tightening; deeming his beauty to be out of this world.

“I... uh... I’ll just go get some water.” You stood up from your seat beside him on the counter, very abruptly that it startled both the middle-aged woman—who Minho was tending to their request—and Minho himself. He looked at you still with shock but it returned to his neutral expression, giving you a nod.

“You should take a break too,” Minho said, before turning back to the bouquet he was working on. You just nodded quickly, trying to flee from the scene.

Going to the store’s backroom, you leaned on the door upon closing. Your mind going on an endless frenzy of scenarios that was caused by the scene you just witnessed earlier. Suddenly, Minho didn’t look friendly to you. And it wasn’t in a bad way. The vision that was suddenly haunting you was Minho moving gently and softly from before, despite the crease on his brows, with the setting looking as domestic as ever.

The boy you’d grown to see since young was mature and different from who you’ve grown to know. The scene played out with a gentle, stern looking Minho who was tending to a child. And the child looked oddly like the man himself, but also looked like you. The next thing you know, however, was Minho turning to you and muttering something. You swore you heard him saying, “honey” to you, in a very gentle tone with a sweet smile.

Suddenly, the small room that nestled silently in the back of the shop had gotten smaller than what you have come to know. The air was suffocating, tightening your chest that rendered you to inhale deep breaths.

“Fuck.” A curse unfamiliar to your mouth, has rolled its way off your tongue as your fist clenched on the fabric of your top. “It hurts.” You whined quietly.

The unfamiliar constricts on your chest made you worry.

Why are you suddenly feeling this? It confused you to no end.

Sliding down the door and crouching, you didn’t let your fists uncoil on the fabric as you kept it to feel solace in the familiarity of the texture. Thinking back to times from before, you always did feel a tug in the pits of your stomach whenever you were around Minho. But it was only now that you noticed its heightened activity, to the point where you feel it constrain your chest.

You tried to steady your breathing. And amidst your heaves, a sudden noise startled you. More specifically, one of a cat’s meow. You turn to the general direction of where you heard the noise, only to see Soonie on top of the stacked crates containing some clay pots.

“Oh! So that’s where you’ve been!” You wondered where the older cat wandered off to midday, as only two were present inside the shop.

“Meow,” Soonie replies, which meant to actually ask you the question of, “what happened?” You wouldn’t have known what he was saying so you assumed it to be a different one—translating it to be, “I like it here.”

“Okay, you be careful when you get down from there. It’s quite high.” You approached the orange cat, booping on its nose.

“You know, I asked you a question. It’s concerning that you’re clutching on your chest like that.” Another meow on your side. Thinking that the cat meant it as “why did you touch my nose?”

“Was it uncomfortable for you? I’m sorry, let me compensate with some treats.” You turned back to the cat, placing your hand on the knob of the door then turning it.

“You know, this conversation is going nowhere. We’re on totally different pages.” Soonie meowed again, but this time, swiftly going down from the crates to follow your steps, in pursue of the treats you promised. “But I could use some of those treats you just said.” Another meow.

“Mhm! I’m sure you’ll enjoy the treats!” You cheered, almost on the same page as Soonie with the talk of cat treats.

The cat made no further reply, only rubbing its body on your leg in anticipation. Even until you got out of the back room, the cat trailed behind you silently in wait.

As you reached the store front, you were greeted however with the sight of a slightly familiar woman. Probably around your age, if not a bit older. It wouldn’t bother you on any day as it could have just been a customer, but you picked the conversation happening with her and Minho.

“I don’t have a written resume right now; I can come back tomorrow if you want.”

“Oh, that wouldn’t matter actually, but if you feel the need to have a resume, then we can arrange to have your interview tomorrow.”

“That’s perfect! When should I come by for the interview?”

“After lunch is perfect.”

“Okay, I’ll be here after lunch tomorrow. Thank you so much for letting me know about it.” The girl bowed in thanks, giving Minho a big, bright smile.

Minho in turn, bowed in return and only watched the figure leave. Noticing your presence as you approached the center of the room, where the cats have gathered around you; stepping their tiny paws on your legs as you crouched to give them treats.

“Are you feeling any better?” Minho asks. However, he got no response from you. Only the sight of your back turned before him sufficed the answer he wished.

“Y/n?” He called for your attention.

This time you replied, but the tone in your voice hinted irritation than what Minho always expected from you—light and happy. “I’m fine.” You dismissed.

Clearly you weren’t. Minho wanted to speak up but Doongie meowed, “someone’s in trouble.” It ticked Minho off, wanting to scold the second eldest of the cats. Soonie did so anyways in his stead, hissing at the younger.

You translated the situation as the cats fighting for the treats you’re giving, making the frown in your face deeper. “Hey, don’t fight.” The statement did not stop the two, only furthering the argument between the two cats, Dori trying to calm the two down, filling the quiet shop in meows and hisses.

The noise made you upset than ever. Doing so, you stood up from your crouched seat, going to the counter to pick up any of your belongings that you left, and putting them all in your satchel. “I’m leaving early. I have to prepare for work.”

Minho can’t help but watch your form walk away. He couldn’t even ask you what the problem was. And it wasn’t even time for your shift at the local pub. It was still around 4 in the afternoon, and you usually left at 5, leaving an hour to prepare for your shift. Clearly, something was happening that you weren’t telling Minho.

The man can only sigh. He’d have to talk to you tomorrow morning instead. Thinking of ways to talk to you, he then turned to the three cats who were still arguing. “You lot can’t keep your mouths shut for a damn second.” Oh, Minho was pissed. And it immediately sent chills down the cats’ furry bodies. The glare was enough to kill, but it was a good thing his eyes held no power to do so.

“It was Doongie. He started it.” Soonie couldn’t help but point fingers at the second youngest, clearly afraid of facing the wrath of their father.

“What? I literally didn’t do anything, you suddenly hissed at me,” Doongie snarled back, to which the older started hissing again. “See! You’re doing it again!”

“Please stop fighting,” Dori timidly mewled, scared of putting more fuel in the fire. The youngest already feeling the seething aura coming from Minho.

“Okay! That’s it! You’re all on time out. No treats for a week, I’m sealing all of it, and no one is going to touch it.” Minho angrily took out all the stored treats in one of the cabinets under the counter, along with the small spell book he keeps handy inside his pocket—containing emergency spells and the like.

The three cats stood up on their little feet, already circling Minho to stop him from taking the treats up to his room and sealing it in one of his drawers.

“Dad! No, we’re sorry! We won’t do it again!” The three meowed in unison, following Minho’s steps, until they reached the top, where a loft has been made from the large space for the cats to settle in. Two doors, one for the bathroom, and one for Minho’s room. And before the three feline could make their entry inside Minho’s room, the door had already been gently shut in their faces.

The three stared silently at the bronze door knob, staring hardly as if it would open with their command.

“This is all your fault Doongie.” Soonie scoffed, making the second youngest rapidly turn it’s head.

“What do you mean mine?! If you hadn’t hissed at me for no reason, then I wouldn’t have fought back, idiot!” The cat’s loud meows echoed around the second floor of the shop.

“I was trying to make you read the room! Your statement was uncalled for!” Soonie meowed back.

At this point, Dori wanted to quiet down the two oldest cat, but he was genuinely growing tired of their argument, that he walked away from them, and jumping to the wooden cat tower of their loft.

Minho on the other hand, successfully sealed the treats, but leaving one aside to give for them. The treat wrapped in a white cloth, containing two of your home made cat cookies. Deeming that the three at least deserved the treat, but they will have to learn to share it for a week.

After doing so, he sat shortly on his bed, thinking of what happened earlier. Of what could have bothered you, that you’ll leave earlier than your usual time, without talking it out with him. And seeing and hearing you sound upset, made his heart break a little. He was confused on what could have possibly gone wrong, but he decided to do his best in making it up for you. Even if he didn’t exactly know if he was the reason or not.

You weren’t doing so well either; the walk to your home was filled with too much scenarios from earlier. Both the one that made your heart clench in something that confused you, and the other giving you that unpleasant feeling.

Upon finding out that Minho was to take in, sooner and probably much later, a reliable helper around the shop—and a beautiful one at that—something inside you felt unpleasant. Your insides churned in a feeling you felt whenever someone disagrees with you to the point they disrespect you. Much closely to unlike but not hate. You couldn’t put a name on this feeling but you wanted it to go away.

Switching your path, you make your way to the daycare where Minju was working, needing the advice and comfort of a female friend. You knew you can’t trust Jungwoo, because not only would he have something up his sleeve, but because the female, and most probably the male population of the area would flock the man, rendering useless for private consultations.

When you peeked into the glass windows of the place, you see only a few children were left. All the others picked up by their parents, or guardians. More notably, the ones left are the trouble makers you’ve come to know—little Jeongin, Jisung, Yongbok, Seungmin, and Hyunjin.

Rapping your knuckles on the door, you were then greeted by Dahyun—one of Minju’s co-workers. “Oh, Y/n. Did you come to talk with Minju?” The girl brightly smiled at you.

Looking at her, the gleeful smile she displayed, rubbed off on you, making you smile in return and forgetting your worries for quite a short period of time. “Yeah! I hope I’m not intruding on work hours?”

“Oh no, work ended hours ago. We’re just waiting for the kids left in here to be picked up, then we’ll be on our way.” Dahyun smiled again, opening the door wider to let you in.

“Teacher! Is that my mommy!” One of the kids, you assumed it’s Jisung from his voice.

“No sweetie, it’s Y/n,” Dahyun corrected, picking up the wood carved nutcracker that the boy dropped as he ran excitedly to the door.

Looking up at you, both in happiness and sadness, little Jisung spoke, “oh… I thought it was mommy.” He can’t help the little frown that painted his face.

You crouched down and pat Jisung’s head comfortingly, “don’t worry! Your mom will pick you up soon!”

Yongbok, Jisung’s twin brother, approached him and held his hand, “mommy won’t forget! Maybe she just stumbled on a cat that needed to be rescued!” The freckled boy made up a scenario of why their mother could be late. And at this, Jisung quickly smiled, nodding in agreement at how their mother is probably a hero in disguise.

Dahyun chuckled, holding Jisung’s hand and leading the twins back inside the room. “Come on. Minju is just preparing snacks for the kids. Apparently they don’t want to go for an afternoon nap.” You chuckled at the statement, somehow relating to the kids for still having some energy left in them.

When you finally arrived, you were greeted with the kids playing around, while Seungmin sat still in one corner, reading a book. Jisung and Yongbok joining Jeongin and Hyunjin in playing a game. However, the little quiet nook Seungmin occupied, was invaded by the other four. Soon enough, the boy reading his story book joined the fray, playing around until Minju finally arrived with a tray of snacks and drinks.

The kids, having been distracted by food, you were finally able to talk to Minju.

“Why did you come by? Isn’t it too early for you to leave the shop?” Minju asked, bunching her skirt before sitting on the floor beside you and Dahyun, conversing but still keeping eye on the kids.

You pressed your legs to your chest, your own skirt pooling to your sides. “I just needed to talk to someone.”

Dahyun being naturally concerned, perked up at the change in your tone. “Why? Has something bad happened? We can help you.” She asked.

You looked down sadly, almost feeling bad for feeling the way you feel, “it’s just, I feel bad for walking out on Minho… I didn’t even explain anything to him, and then I also walked out on the kids.” And by kids, you meant his cats—the term being natural to you and Minho.

Minju tilted her head, confused on what’s happened, “walked out? Did you get into an argument with him?”

You shook your head, “not really… I just felt upset he was really pushing through with looking for a new hire.” Now that you said the problem out loud, you felt it too ridiculous to be even worrying about. But there’s just this feeling of unsettlement that you can’t shake off.

“I’m sure it’s just seasonal, sweetie. You know how it is in spring,” Minju tried her best comforting you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

Dahyun agreed, “yeah. Besides, he probably doesn’t mind you still helping around. You know how things work there with how long you’ve been helping him.”

You stared of blankly, absorbing their words like a sponge. However, there was still something bothering you. It was nitpicking at the very corners of your heart.

“But… I don’t know… the person applying looked beautiful, and it kind of sets something inside me, I don’t know how to explain it,” you sighed. The thought of this beautiful lady working side by side with Minho was making you sad, and you were confused on how you felt. “She also seemed to be kind and gentle.”

Minju and Dahyun turned to give each other a look, already giving name to the feeling you were too oblivious about. “Oh, you sweet, innocent, naïve child.” Dahyun couldn’t help but laugh.

Minju chuckled as well, hiding her giggles behind to which piqued and confused you. “Huh? Why are you both laughing?”

Dahyun waved it off, now breaking into fits of laughter. The kids who were previously distracted by their afternoon snacks, were now huddling around you three. “Teacher is telling a joke! Teacher, tell us the joke!” Yongbok squealed excitedly, tugging on the hem of Minju and Dahyun’s skirt.

Jisung jumped up and down, while Hyunjin was holding on to Jeongin and Seungmin’s hands, who were equally piqued and excited.

Dahyun scowled at the kids, “oh you nosy children, go eat your snacks.” At this, the children pouted and groaned sadly.

“Teacher, unfair!” Jeongin shouted, following another line, “Jeongin always tell jokes to teacher!”

Minju couldn’t help but spill as you still sat in confusion. “Our Ms., Y/n is obliviously jealous.”

After dropping the bomb, you were baffled. The kids looked confused at a word they never encountered before, except for both Seungmin and Hyunjin. The latter quickly shooting his hand up, squealing, “oh! It happens when you feel that someone you love is being taken away from you by someone else!”

Seungmin’s face soured at the mention of the word ‘love.’ “Or, you feel it when someone else has something you want.” The boy related it to something more relatable, to which the other kids now nodded their heads.

Hyunjin tugged at Seungmin, disagreeing to what the boy said; always a lover of romance as he finds a way to justify that jealousy is more akin to be felt with love. “But you feel it with someone you love too! I get jealous when other kids play with you and not with me, because I love you!” The slightly older boy pouted.

The three of you were shocked at the sudden revelation, especially the young alchemist, whose cheeks were now tinted baby pink. “Y-you can come visit my house to play anytime, we’re neighbors after all!” Seungmin turned away from Hyunjin. The latter’s eyes lighted with delight.

The kids, as well as Minju and Dahyun was now teasing the two who was shrouded with what seemed to be puppy love. As for you, you were processing what Minju labeled your feelings as ‘jealousy.’

You thought back to earlier, feeling upset at the scenarios that plagued your mind when you thought back to the lady from before. Hardly even starting work and yet the scenarios made you upset to such an extent where you’re overthinking the lady stealing Minho from you.

“O-of course I’m jealous!” You blurted out, gaining everyone’s attention. Dahyun smirked at the admission, teasing about to roll off her tongue until you added, “he’s my best friend! Of course, I’ll be upset if someone else takes him away from me!”

Dahyun’s eye twitched in irk at your obliviousness. Rubbing her face, she groaned before asking you, “if Minju was ‘taken away’ from you, or someone else got her attention, and the someone was very pretty, would you be upset?”

“I wouldn’t, because they might be talking about something important.” Dahyun nodded at your answer.

“If Jungwoo was talking to you, then someone else pretty would steal his attention, would you be upset?”

“It’s kind of not out of the ordinary, so I would not mind anymore.” You answered once more.

The last question, however, gave back the despair you felt from before. “If Minho was talking to someone else who looks pretty and kind, how would that make you feel?”

You mulled it over, frowning as you gave your answer. “I’d be sad.” You were used to Minho giving you all his undivided attention, despite looking the total opposite, that thinking of him doing so with someone else tugged at the pit of your stomach.

“Ms. Y/n you’re like my mama when papa is ignoring her.” Hyunjin spoke, thinking back to his mother who always pouted when her husband is piled with mails to write back to.

You didn’t think you would have such reactions to this thing. You now only think that this seems too petty to even give it that much attention, but the feeling at the pit of your stomach really wasn’t going away.

“Then what do you suggest I do?” You thought out loud for everyone to hear. Feeling helpless for even having these feelings in the first place. “I even felt my heart squeezing earlier when I glanced at Minho... It was strange.”

Minju was not aware whether you wanted that thought to be heard, but it only confirmed their suspicion of you eventually falling for your best friend.

“Ms. Y/n you’re in love!” Jisung shouted in glee, excited about the news. You only then realized your thoughts were out in the open for everyone in the small room to hear.

“No, I’m not! I think I’m sick,” you blindly reasoned, thinking it could probably be a sickness yet to be discovered. A sickness where you feel your heart almost being squeezed out when looking at someone.

“But, Ms. Y/n, my mama says she feels that way with papa!” Hyunjin reasons out, always on the move for asking about romance to his mom, who was also quite the romantic.

“Ms. Y/n should confess to Sir Minho, right?” Minju wiggled her brows suggestively, while Dahyun gave you a very sly wink.

At this, the kids squealed in excitement, even Seungmin who was not a very romantic child. “Like how Jinnie confessed to Minnie!” Yongbok stared, his eyes twinkling like how his freckles twinkled on his cheeks. The mention once more making Seungmin flush in an adorable baby pink.

“Sir Minho is cool! He takes care of flowers, and has cats!” Jisung raised his hands excitedly, as if testifying his reasons on why you should confess to your friend.

Jeongin raised his hand as well, catching the attention of the other kids as they paid attention to the youngest speaking his thoughts. “Sir Minho is mind reader,” Jeongin starts, his sentence form still lacking as he was still young. “Sir Minho read mama’s thoughts.”

You thought back to Jeongin’s mom who was a regular at Minho’s shop. It was because the woman sticks to her favorite flower arrangement, that Minho starts working on the bouquet before the woman could even speak. Maybe that’s why Jeongin thought he was a mind reader; which you found undeniably adorable.

Upon finishing his sentence, the other boys stared in awe. Talking amongst themselves about how they also want to be a mind reader like Minho. The two daycare teachers only laughed fondly at the kids, while you stared adoringly at how their innocent and imaginative minds are very endearing.

Alas, you could only stay for such a time, leaving just before the last of the kids were picked up by their parents or guardian. Bidding the two women as well, a good bye—with them also promising to drop by the pub for a few non-alcoholic drinks—before heading back home to change out of your day outfit.

Your night—or work attire—was not anything special. Only the dress being a much lighter material to grant you ease when maneuvering around tables and tables when serving. Your shoes as well, changing to a much light and loose leather.

When you arrived, there were already some of the few patrons, with a few of your co-workers setting up the small stage. Seungkwan, one of the famous bards who performs, was already downing a small glass of ale.

“Nervous?” You asked, grabbing on to an apron under one of the counter cabinets, and wrapping it around your body.

The man gave you one of his very popular sassy looks, scoffing, “I could never. You know I’m only drinking a glass so I don’t have to take nonsense from some of the geezers here.”

If anything, Seungkwan was sassy, but respectful, only drinking, when necessary, to double the sass especially in times he needs to—like when someone starts to get too disrespectful to him during or off performance. Nonetheless, he was still a very sweet gentleman, who knows how to make the mood lighter–making him perfect for the job.

You just chuckled, giving him an understanding pat, and wishing him luck with the performance—not like you think he needed, considering the amount of talent the man holds.

The night grew busier and busier, with the thoughts from earlier finally fading. Dahyun and Minju visited you, ordering their usual rose tea with some light snacks. The two were not one with adoring the busy pub scene either, but the place was one of the best servers of alcoholic drinks as well as having the best singer in town–that there was a lot to be competing in.

“The drink was great as always Nayeon!” Dahyun thanked the older woman behind the wooden counter. Minju agreed, but frowned quickly as her dress’ sleeve got caught on one of the wooden splinters.

“Changbin should really get the counters fixed,” she muttered, loud enough for the two other girls to hear her. Unfortunately, the boy mentioned was blessed with sharp hearing, and in a matter of seconds, the man was now next to them.

“Believe me, that’s the third repair this month, but someone keeps picking on it. Chan’s getting frustrated.” Changbin crossed his arms, sighing in exasperation and empathy for his carpenter and artisan friend. The four then sighed in unison, thinking of the hardworking man and already imagining him frowning at how someone could ruin his handiworks.

After serving a few drinks to some patrons, you approached the four. Minju engaged in a short conversation before declaring that she would have to head home and sleep for another early hour shift for the next day. You bid them soon, voicing your concern for them to be careful on their way.

It was then that you, Changbin, and Nayeon were left, conversing for a short period of time before going back to work. Nayeon making the drinks, along with another colleague who had just arrived for his shift – Hansol; Changbin with managing and overseeing everyone, as well as greeting some of the regulars in his pub and even welcoming new faces, even helping with making drinks when needed; while you went around taking orders from the customers along with your co-workers, Chaeyoung, Moonbin, and Minghao.

The bustle of the tavern would have you grow exhausted and render you tired and knocked out after work, usually; however, today you were up and going on your toes. Your mind automatically leans into burning energy as a coping mechanism from what had occurred earlier that day. You were so on a roll that you barely noticed it was time for closing; only coming to mind when Chaeyoung tapped you on your shoulders and offering to walk home together.

“You’ve been spacing out lately, I figured I walk home with you so I can assure you get home safely.” Chaeyoung spoke, giving you a gentle smile as she looked down to fix and dust of her skirt.

You were touched with the kind thought of the girl, and who were you really to deny such an angelic person? You agreed with her, but not telling the reason that you agree because you also want to protect her in case some hooligans were to jump out of nowhere and even attempt to do things to you and Chaeyoung.

You were sent to be more at ease when Moonbin as well as Hansol offered to walk with you two. You knew you were capable of self defense, but with two more people, and a masculine form of intimidation, you were guaranteed safety. So, the walk home was very comfortable, alongside some quirky topics to converse in, it gave you peace at most.

💐

Peace was probably good in its own, but it was kind of bad in some way. Because when your mind feels at ease, you oversleep. Not that Minho minds it, he thinks you deserve all the rest you need after a long night at work. However, the usual time you arrive in, usually a little past noon, he’d expected you’d be there. But you weren’t.

Afternoon rush were very common in his store, and without you, Minho was somehow a fumbling mess here and there. It was bad enough that Sana—the girl who he was supposed to interview—was sat uneasily in a seat at the corner of the shop. The girl offering to help him with managing some of the customers, but Minho politely declined, and now she was forced to just watch as the man hurries from one place to the other.

A couple more hours after the rush hour and you finally arrived, perkier than before. Minho sighed in relief, after having to worry that something else could have happened to you. He greeted you but he got no reply as he watched you approach the cats, a small bundle of treats out of the pockets of your skirt.

“Oh, is that Ms. Y/n?” Sana asked, after having done with Minho’s briefing and approval that today she’d start work, but under your guidance.

“Yes.” He answered shortly, still gazing at you. Sana watched with hawk like curiosity at you two. “Uh…Just approach her and ask; she doesn’t seem too keen on talking to me.” And it piqued the girl, as Minho was left with the conundrum of what could he have possibly done for you to suddenly ignore him, and not his cats.

Sana nodded her head, approaching you cautiously so as not to trigger any negative feelings with you. “Hi,” she spoke timidly but brightly at the same time.

You looked up from the cats who were enjoying their treats—who you didn’t know were currently grounded and banned from eating treats for the week. You gave a curious look at the girl, despite the churning feeling of hurt inside you, you urged her to ask a question, which was obvious from the way she fiddled at the texture of her skirt.

“Minho said I’d be under your wing for the week. I’ll be learning the ropes around the shop with your guidance, as he said you were more experienced.” She said, fumbling again as she hurried to add her self introduction, “my mistake for not introducing. My name is Minatozaki Sana. I live just down the block from the marketplace. And I’ve always been interested in flowers.” Sana didn’t know just how to introduce herself to you, as you seemed to hold that unexplainable air of intimidation while also feeling approachable.

Pushing hard on the gnawing pain in your chest and stomach, you gave her your most genuine smile. You’d do this for Minho, even if there was an unexplainable feeling inside you. You didn’t want to name it jealously. But Sana seemed harmless and quite perfect with Minho, and you can’t help but sigh in defeat inside.

And it went on for a week. Maybe two or three. But Minho was sure you’ve been avoiding him, definitely. Because he’s been watching you for days with those forlorn eyes.

You barely arrived in time for rush hours, the way you always do. And when you had free time, you either spent it with the cats, or you’d go next door to Jungwoo. And it sends him reeling with feelings of hurt and jealousy, more than curiosity.

He asks himself why you suddenly avoided him? Was it something he did? Did he offend you in some way? He’d have deep talks with Soonie sometimes, but the cat just tells him to talk to you about it. But how was he supposed to talk to you, if you keep walking away from him when he was at arm’s length to you?

You were no better yourself. You watched the times when Sana and Minho would talk. They looked so comfortable with each other now. And when Sana laughs at Minho saying something, you just can’t look. Minho looks so soft with his gentle smile, and it makes your heart wrench. You almost want to hurl out your insides not out of disgust, but out of hurt. Hoping that vomiting it out could stop you from having these feelings.

You’ve been frequenting your visit with Jungwoo, just for the sole purpose of distraction. Because it was surely amusing to watch him decline date invites from men and women alike, who holds up the line in his little café. But you’re suddenly into people watching. You watched everyone’s gesture, developing the habit after having spaced out a lot of times. And Jungwoo’s café was the perfect place for it.

You also visited the daycare a lot. Finding comfort in the two girls, while also playing with some of the kids there. And it also piqued at you at Hyunjin and Seungmin’s predicament. After Hyunjin’s puppy love confession, the two have been inseparable. Always doing things together, confiding in the other, when one is lonely. And you felt jealousy for the kids, because you wanted to do the same with Minho.

….

…

You wanted what with Minho?!

You dropped the clay pot you were holding, breaking it to pieces, as both Sana and Minho rushed to your side.

“Y/n, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Minho fumbled, grasping your hand and stepping you away from the broken pieces of clay on the floor. Searching and scanning your hands for any scratch or open wound.

“I’ll go get the broom, you two don’t make a move or touch anything,” Sana hurries to the back room to pick up the long broom and pan.

You were too focused on your hands that were enveloped by Minho’s slightly larger ones.

You wanted to hold hands with Minho. You wanted to hold his hands, the way Hyunjin and Seungmin does. Not platonically, but romantically. You wanted to be there for him when he’s feeling alone, so you can give him your undivided love and affection.

That’s when it hit you that you really were feeling something more for your childhood friend.

“Y/n?” He looks into your eyes with unbridled concern and…love? “You can sit this one out and rest if you're not feeling well. I can even talk to Changbin so you don’t have to go to work.” His thumbs were rubbing the back of your hands in comfort, and it triggered the butterflies inside you stomach, especially now that you’ve something to name that feeling you had been feeling the past few weeks.

Love and hurt. Longing and jealousy.

Sana walks back into the room and starts sweeping hurriedly, all the while speaking out her concern for you. She was about to walk back to the back room of the shop to look for any medicinal herbs for if you did have any injuries.

But you ran away.

You fled from the scene, right after yanking your hands from the comfort of Minho’s calloused ones. Hearing both the concerned and shocked calls from Minho and Sana.

More than heart racing and fluster, you were feeling shame, regret and sadness at the late realization. The hurt from weeks of having it unnamed had increased ten fold now that you have a name for your emotion.

So you ran and ran, until you found yourself once more inside the daycare. It was still early, the kids were yet to be dismissed, so you halt in your running to catch your breath. Your feet aching from the heels you wore. Looking for a bench to sit on along with the other parents and guardians who were waiting. Minju got out on one of the rooms, and was surprised to see you come earlier.

“You’re here early. Anything happened?” She asked, concern written in her face as she scanned your out of breath form.

“We’ll talk later, you just go and finish what you need to do,” you assured her, not wanting to get her in trouble for talking during work hours.

Half an hour passed and the kids were finally dismissed. The five mischievous boys were still around, along with the three other little girls who were busy in their own world.

Minju found it appropriate that you now enter the room, sitting you down on the floor next to one of the children’s small table. “I’ll prepare some tea,” she says, scurrying to the daycare’s small kitchen in the back.

You were left with Dahyun who was quick to sit next to you on the floor. Your skirts littered the floor in bunches. “You need some water, you look like you ran around the country,” Dahyun said, handing you a glass of water.

You were quick to down the glass, and settle it gently on the small table. “I did. I did run to here.” You heaved in and out in slow breaths.

Dahyun nodded her head, sensing something good or interesting has happened. She leaned closer, her hands resting her chin as her elbows were propped on the table.

You know the look she’s giving so you spoke, “not until Minju is seated.” You scoffed, turning your head away as you weren’t really in to explaining everything that happened in repeated times.

Once the girl did arrive, you were quick to explain why you ran, coming to a conclusion, “I also just now realized my feelings for Minho…” You spoke timidly, unbeknownst to you the eavesdropping ears of the rascals.

“I knew it! Ms. Y/n does like Sir Minho!” Jisung announces, more so quick to celebrating than the two older girls.

“Ms. Y/n don’t worry, I’m sure Sir Minho likes you as well,” Chaeryeong spoke timidly, but her eyes sparkled.

“You rascals, you should never listen to adults talking,” Dahyun scolded light heartedly. The kids running away as she chased them around the room.

You thanked her for having quick senses on your feelings of vulnerability. You knew the kids meant well, but you were really in need of some safe space at the moment. Minju took your hand in hers, sandwiching it in comfortable warmth.

You’ve always been jealous of Minju having soft and smooth hands, as yours have always been rough at such a young age. Despite being soft, the surface of your hands were always rough, and littered with creases and lines. It was one of your insecurities, which was why you were quick to pull your hands away from Minho earlier.

“I’m proud of you coming to terms with your feelings, sweetie. But, I need you to be more confident in yourself. I can sense you feeling hesitant and insecure.” Minju softly voiced, giving you hand gentle massages to ease you from your worries. “Will you tell me what you feel at the moment?”

You sighed deeply, before speaking out your thoughts. “I feel very much insecure, you’re right.”

Minju nodded, “will you tell me what you’re most insecure about? I won’t pressure you if you feel uncomfortable.” She speaks, all the while giving your hand gentle presses.

“I just suddenly feel defeated… I feel like I’m not worthy of having Minho. I’m not perfect like Sana. And they especially look good together. Minho looks really comfortable with her, and I felt like I’m disrupting them, when I finally came to terms with how I feel.”

Minju frowned, upset to hear you bringing yourself down. But she urged you to continue, wanting you to let out what you feel so you’d be carrying a lighter load in the future. And once you were done, she was quick to envelope you in her arms.

With you two having sat on the floor, it was easier to engulf you in warmth. You feeling small, yet safe around the warmth of your dear friend. Silently sobbing out your insecurities as she whispered the words you needed to hear in that moment.

Dahyun did her best to distract the kids and give you two the time you need, but she can only do as much, as the kids now turn their attention to you two.

Yongbok gasps, sparkles lighting his eyes as his freckles as the sight of you two, “it’s a cuddle pile!” The little boy giggles excitedly, wanting to be involved in the cuddles.

His twin, Jisung, joins. Running with arms wide open as the two tried their best to hug you and Minju with their little arms.

Jeongin, Chaeryeong, Yeji and Lia as well, running up to you and jumping to hug. Hyunjin and Seungmin going last. Seungmin a bit reluctant, but going along as Hyunjin tugged him along.

“You kids,” Dahyun sighed exasperated, however joining the pile as well, the last to wrap her arms around all of you, even if you all didn’t fit.

Minho wasn’t doing well. Even more heart broken with how you ran away from him; stressed because he never knew what the reason was for you to avoid him. Most of all, missing your cheery aura, that was all for him. He had a possessive side, that was much, but it wasn’t bad. He just was naturally drawn to you like a magnet.

“You should talk to Y/n,” Sana speaks up, noticing the broken look of Minho. “There seemed to be a misunderstanding.”

Minho looked back to her, confused.

“She likes you Minho, that much is obvious,” Sana chuckles. “But she seemed to look at us as something more. You know I don’t swing that way.”

Minho felt bare and exposed. Was he wearing his heart on his sleeves to be read that easily? Was it really obvious that he was giving you the heart eyes? The longing, forlorn looks? The subtle chuckles when he sees you communicating with the cats, but he very well knows that you aren’t on the same page as the cats—as he can communicate with them?

“Let’s close up the shop. You need time to gather your thoughts.” Sana gives him a reassuring smile and pat, leaving for the shop’s front door, and flipping the sign. Carrying the displays inside the shop, and doing a bit of sweeping.

Once Minho snaps out of his thoughts, he helped with closing the shop. A bit fidgety, he was. Concerned, of course, but he was formulating the things he wanted to say. And if Sana is right that you feel the same as him, then he needs to let it all bare. He has to be honest to you and clear up the misunderstanding.

After he closed the shop, and bidding Sana a farewell, he wrote a letter to Changbin, asking for a two day leave in your stead, explaining how you seemed to be out of it and not in the right mindset lately. But also leaving out the fact that he needs to talk to you about something important.

Minho calls for Soonie, asking the older cat to send the letter to Changbin. While some people had their own messenger birds, Minho mostly did his messaging through his cats. Not finding it fit to have a bird as a messenger when he had three cats.

After the older cat left, Minho quickly wrote another letter. This one was for you. Asking for some of your time and talk about what you were feeling. He tried to be very obvious in the letter that he missed you, and he hoped you were feeling up for it. He did say he would respect your decision if you wouldn’t want to talk at the moment.

And after having written the letter, he called for Dori, asking the young cat to deliver the letter. He then watched as the grey cat walked away happily and out of the shop through their little cat door.

“That’s unfair. Why don’t I get to deliver letters?” Doongie meowed, upset.

Minho scoffed at the second oldest. “You’re mischievous. Who knows what you could’ve done to the letter?”

Doongie meowed louder, “I’m literally a cat!”

Minho chuckled, tapping on to his thighs. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you send letters in the future.” He grinned, naturally weak for his cats.

And although Doongie was such a mischievous little one of his, he was grateful for the cuddles that the cat gave him. Automatically giving him comfort.

He decided that he needs the comfort of a male friend, so he made sure to take note in confiding to Jungwoo before he gets to talk to you.

A little while into the afternoon while walking on your way home, a white dove lands softly on your head; blocking your view with an envelope. You noticed the dove to be Changbin’s. You thought back to when Changbin had sent you a mail through his messenger bird, actually expecting a bird close to the more predator type, seeing as the man himself looked intimidating. But you may have judged him by his cover then, because Changbin was a pure and honest man himself.

Picking at the letter gently, you thanked the beautifully, untainted bird. The dove nuzzling the top of your head in affection before flying off.

Upon opening the letter, you see the words written in bold that you’re given two days off from work, without proper explanation. And as much as you want to storm to the pub, or even the man’s home itself, you knew just how stubborn Changbin is once he makes a decision.

Sighing, you snugged the letter safely inside your pocket.

Your mood have slightly improved with Minju and Dahyun’s comfort, as well as having the kids give you a cuddle pile. And you didn’t think you’d be taking advice from a child, but here you were, engraving young Hyunjin’s advice into your brain.

Honesty is the best way to go especially when communicating. Just let it all out Ms. Y/n. If Sir Minho loves you as well, then he will love your everything even if you hate them.

You sighed, thinking how running away from this would be useless. And if Minho were to not reciprocate your feelings, you deemed it better, as long as you know he’s happy. It would be worth the try. You just hoped he keeps being friends with you.

Your thoughts of planning to talk to him tomorrow, as you do have two days off, were interrupted as you felt something brushing on your legs. You look down to see Dori, who had a letter in its mouth. You knew then that it was a message from Minho.

Scared that it would be a message of him scolding you from earlier, you didn’t pick it up. You were afraid you’d let out some tears. Instead, you picked up the cat, and took long strides to your house, finding it more fit that you read the letter in a more private setting.

After setting Dori down inside your home, you gave the young cat some treats, and a small bowl of water. Taking the letter gently out of its mouth and opening it nervously.

However, upon opening, you were not greeted with the ominous aura or wording. Instead, you find that it’s quite hinting differently. At the very bottom, he was asking you to meet him at midnight at Mooncross Lake. The lake where you two would usually play to by yourselves when you were kids.

There seemed to be more to the letter as you read the first alphabets of each word at the left side of the paper. Each row’s first letters creating the phrase “I miss you.”

It raised your hopes. Heightened the feeling inside your stomach. Leaving your heart racing.

Minho knew you all too well. He knows how you loved solving puzzles, deciphering riddles, theorizing, and the like. And for him to incorporate as such in the letter, it left your mind at ease, all the while feeling hopeful.

Hopeful that he’d feel the same.

And so when night came, you were antsy. Dori left after demanding some cuddles from you, and you were left to feel anxious until you felt that it was finally time to meet up with Minho.

The track to the lake was safe, as the path were illuminated by magic lamps. If someone were to jump out of nowhere, and cause trouble, you were prepared; having a small emergency dagger around your neck.

The necklace having its pendant designed in the shape of a dagger. Only does it become the right hand held size when manifested with mana. It was a present that Jungwoo gave to you and Minju to help you to protect yourself especially at night.

Once you approach, the lake, you were greeted with the man’s silhouette, illuminated by the moonlight, both from the moon itself, as well as from the reflection of the lakes surface. The dark tones creating a mirror, an illusion of no land and only space.

You approached the form. An all to familiar form. You know it’s Minho, from all the times you’ve known him and looked at him, you have his everything memorized. Even the gestures and mannerisms he does.

“Minho?” You called out. Your voice acting as knife that cut through the night’s serene silence.

And you were right, as the silhouette now turned to you. Minho approached you, his leather shoes creating a rhythm with the grass and some fallen leaves. Accompanied were the sounds of metal clanking from the lamp he carried, along with the rustle of his rucksack making contact with his shirt. Only now did he light the lamp using the matchbox he had with him.

Setting down the lamp, he pulled out a small blanket from his rucksack. It looked to be the only thing in his pack. He sat down, both your distance from the lake, a good 10 feet away. Once he was comfortably seated, he held out his hand, asking for yours.

You hesitantly gave yours, but freed from his grasp just as fast after sitting. Minho looked away sadly, which you missed as you turned your head away. Both of you still wrapped around in misunderstanding but Minho wants to clear it up as fast, afraid to prolong the heartache he’s been feeling.

The serene silence turns tense. The crickets being the only one to speak its thoughts in the cold spring air.

“I…” Minho starts, after finally gathering his courage.

You turn to look at him, and with the lamp shining from below you two, you were able to make out the distant and hurt look that painted his face. It made your heart clench.

Why was he unhappy? Was the “I miss you” just you reading into too much things, and he’s actually just finding it hard to look for the words to say that he’s not interested in you?

Oh how you wished to go back through time to save yourself from the embarrassment waiting to happen.

“I’m sorry…” He says quietly. And as if the air wasn’t tainted with enough tension and awkwardness, the crickets have stopped their chorus, making the air more unbearable.

You couldn’t handle the tears, as they make their way out your orbs and dance freely to kiss the air of cool spring. You sobbed silently, you breathing held.

But how can you hold your breath for long? Of course you couldn’t. So the silence was once more disrupted as you heaved in deeply, the snot that has formed clogged your breathing, making it more audible that you were indeed crying.

“I know, let’s just stop this. Th-there’s clearly no way you would like me. Why did I even get my h-hopes up.” You sobbed in between your breaths.

Minho was worried with how you suddenly cried. Taking you in his arms, he started rubbing his hands up and down your back. He didn’t mind the wet patch that has formed as he leaned your forehead to rest on his shoulders.

“How can you think this way, Y/n? Of course I like you…” His other hand made it’s way to your head. Your hair loosely hanging, making it easier to thread his fingers through, massaging your scalp comfortingly.

“You’re obligated to like me…because I’m your, f-friend…” You never thought that the word friend could wound your heart so deeply.

Minho felt his heart ache. Did you really see his affection as an obligation?

“See it as you will, but I like you genuinely. I like you to the point it hurts my heart. You don’t even know how much you make me feel at ease when I’m with you…” Minho hugged you closer to him, afraid of losing you if he didn’t hold on tighter.

“I like you even more than how normal friends see each other. I see myself with you. In my past, my present, and future. I’m sorry I haven’t been verbal with my affection for you, but I don’t think words can explain how I feel, Y/n.”

Your sobbing dies down slowly, as you listened to him further explain. And the more he explained, the more your heart was left beating.

“I’m sorry for the unnecessary misunderstanding I’ve created, Y/n. I never wanted to get rid of you. I never even had the slightest thought about it…” Minho explains, after having talked with Jungwoo. Your friend reading your feelings as something akin to fear. It was close, because you did have a fear of losing Minho.

“But, you like Sana. I know, because you look at her with something… it’s something close to love…And when she looks at you, you suddenly look away…” You clenched on Minho’s shirt. Hurt flashing across you once more as you thought to that scene of Minho looking fondly at Sana.

Minho is baffled. He doesn’t even remember looking at the girl in that way. Could it have been a coincidence? Because he remembers looking at you with heart eyes—admittedly—and it just so happens that Sana is right behind you, catching him on the act, that probably triggers his flustered reaction.

Suddenly he can’t help but let out a fond chuckle. And it hurt you more, thinking that he’s ridiculing you, causing you to slightly push him away.

The gesture clutches at Minho’s heart, but he has to clear up the misunderstanding before even thinking about giving up.

“You never let me explain properly…” Minho sighs, taking one of your hand still in his.

You looked away in shame. Ever since talking to him finally, you never made the first step, even having the guts to push him away and put words in his mouth.

As if sensing your negative thoughts, Minho’s other hand cups your jaw, turning you to look at him straight in the eyes, as he starts explaining properly. “Me turning away, was due to Sana catching me in the act of looking at you, fondly.”

“I don’t think I can ever look at someone the same way I look at you. I want you to trust me. To believe me; that my heart is only for you.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, before continuing, “besides, Sana is married, and I believe she’s not interested in men.”

At the news, your eyes grew like saucers. You never noticed this, not even the ring that glistens on Sana’s finger whenever the sun’s ray hit her hands. How could you have missed that?

“Why do you think I let Sana be under your wing? Other than you being more than capable enough to teach a newcomer, it’s also because she said that she’d be more comfortable if she worked with the same gender.” Minho spoke, explaining how Sana had spoke vaguely about having bad experiences with men.

“She seemed comfortable with you though?” You asked, still quite confused.

“About that,” Minho chuckles again, his cheeks now a blooming shade of pink, a tint of yellow from the lamp’s candlelight making the shade a bit orange. “Sana thought we were married, and just so happened to be in a quarrel.”

It was your turn to flush. The thought of being married with Minho fluttered your heart to no end.

“A lot of people seemed to think that way…” Minho spoke. He’s hinting something. Hinting at you how both your affection for each other goes beyond being just friends, that people could easily mistake you for a couple.

“I don’t think I’m done explaining what I feel, but I can’t find any more words, so I will let you have your turn to speak. And if time comes I need to explain more, I will keep letting you know, until you know just how much I adore you; romantically. Because I promise you, no words can explain just how much I feel for you.”

Tears well up in your eyes; overwhelm being an understatement. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” you started, heaving in another breath as another wave of tears wells up and ready to fall. “I was scared of losing you, I didn’t know what to do.”

You sniffled, wiping the tears that can’t stop falling. Minho now cupping your cheeks with both hands as he did the wiping for you, making a silent promise to never give you any reason to cry.

“You—she…she just seemed so perfect for you. I can never compete. I’m just me. She’s almost sent from the heavens, made for you. And her hands look soft and smooth and perfect for you…”

Minho grasps your hands with both of his, resting them on his face, “but these are the hands that I love. These hard working ones who helped get through the day. These gentle hands that holds mine when I need them. These caring hands that took care of my kids and flowers with so much care in the world.”

He retaliates your insecurities with the things he came to love about you, and it brought more than enough comfort inside you. “Your hands are rough, and it’s enough proof for what kind of person you are. I’m not saying that Sana is the complete opposite and is lazy—as she’s hard working as well,” Minho chuckles, and it made you let out one as well, knowing that the girl worked hard as well as everyone you knew. “But know that there’s more to you than what you seem. I want you to slowly see yourself the way others, especially the ones you’re close with, see you.”

You nod your head, closing the gap between you to and wrap yourselves once more in a comforting hug. “I apologize again for ignoring you,” you whispered sadly.

Minho rubs your back comfortingly, “I admit I was hurt, but it’s all okay now. As long as you’re here with me.”

You finally sighed contently after weeks of constant hurt and confusion, that you let the words slip past easily from your lips, “I love you.”

Minho can’t help the lovesick grin forming on his lips, as he replied back, “I love you, too.”

An eruption of butterflies from both of you, along with the racing of heart beats, that you swore you can feel his in sync with yours through his thin shirt.

“Does this mean I’m yours?” You asked curiously with a shy smile, looking up from where you rested your head on his shoulder.

Minho’s smile never faded, only growing wider that the corners of his eyes wrinkles in happiness. “Yes. As I am yours, too.”

Your heart wrenches in pain, but not from hurt. You feel something close to a flower blooming, and it was enough explanation that you were absolutely in love with your childhood friend.

“I’m yours, and you’re mine.” You whispered to yourself, smiling.

Minho hears, and replies, “Yes, I’m yours and you’re mine.” He smiles to himself, humming a song in content as he pressed occasional kisses on top of your head, and on your hands that were interlocked. Watching the scenery, just in time as the nocturnal flowers start to bloom, where some even emitted a gentle, blue glow.

Minho could’ve gone with confessing during the day where the flowers were most beautiful to admire and would fit the situation, but this worked well. The night in combination with the nocturnal flowers. They’re like you, he thinks. You’re most active in the night and he found it as beautiful as the flowers in the day. And he thinks that this moment he shares with you tonight, is still as perfect and budding with romance as any other spring love told.

#skz lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #skz lee know #skz fluff #skz angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz oneshots #from bruh-changbin's spring fling collab

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sp4ceboo · 5 months ago

Text

Maniac: OT8!Stray Kids x Reader

genre: a/b/o au, omegaverse, medieval au, ot8 x reader, pack dynamics, afab!reader, smut and angst and fluff

summary: you're your pack's only omega - when your alphas are taken from you, you refuse to rest until you're reunited with them

A/N: i loved writing this so come get your food i hope u guys like it <33

tw: 18+, a lot of smut (p in v, bath sex, knots and all that a/b/o shit, mentions of breeding ofc, 1 accidental pass out, oral - m&f recieving, face fucking, so much cum oh god, crying during sex, bit of mxm at points, somno but not much, lots of praise, one instance of finger sucking, manhandling, overstimulation, a spank, no mentioned protection because sorry it's medieval times, back scratching and biting, creampie, reader basically gets run a train on, a few 3some type things, dw there is also soft smut, guys please pee after sex), gore, blood, death, fighting, evil creepy dude, mention of past trauma, swearing, mistreatment of omegas, half assed editing, porn plot 50-50 split i reckon

wc: 12.98k

The moment the heavy wooden door of the smithy splinters and gives way, you bolt upright. Minho is already out of bed, the sheets still warm from where he was lying beside you, and you catch the glint of steel in his hand as he stands by the window, peering out at the street below; Seungmin is gone, his side of the mattress cold. Your heart stutters, and you stiffen at the all too familiar musky scent that permeates the air, rising up from between the rickety floorboards.

‘Goemul?’ You ask.

Minho nods grimly. ‘Who else?’

‘Fuck. He won’t leave me alone, will he?’

‘We won’t let him anywhere near you,’ he replies, voice low and full of anger.

You squeeze your eyes shut when Minho tucks an arm around your waist and presses you to him, pushing your nose into his neck; breathing in his scent - rain and sweet vanilla - you allow yourself a moment of comfort in his strong embrace before breaking away. A crash sounds below, and you grab your staff.

Jisung bursts in. You smell the fight on him before you see the bruising blooming across his face; there’s adrenaline spiking his scent and blood splattered across his front - not his, you note with relief. There’s a wild look in his eyes, the same look you saw the first time Goemul came for you.

‘He’s back, and with more troops,’ he gasps. ‘Chan says - ’

A chilling battle cry rings out, cutting him off.

Ice skitters down your spine. None of your pack are arrogant enough to have a signature war cry - there’s only one person that could be. Minho visibly bristles, his fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword before he shoulders open the bedroom door and you hear his footsteps pound down the stairs. You move to follow, but Jisung grabs your wrist.

‘Chan says you have to go. You need to run.’

You scoff. ‘Absolutely not. This is my pack.’

An edge enters Jisung’s voice. ‘And you’re our omega.’

You give him a look and he can see there’s no way he can convince you - you sprint down the stairs, him hot on your heels. Immediately, the smell of the fight overwhelms you as your feet hit the floor: at least twenty other alphas versus your eight, and a few betas fighting amongst the enemy too. Face twisted fiercely and teeth bared, Hyunjin barrels by, slashing at a stocky, snarling alpha with a rusted sword. It’s one of the ones Felix had scavenged for melting down, and you can see the wooden hilt is rotting.

Without hesitation, you raise your hand, and the attack runes painted there for an occasion just like this glow azure blue, so bright they’re almost white, and the alpha collapses, his heart ruptured in his chest. Panting, Hyunjin glances up and gives you a nod before diving back into battle, aiding Jeongin with the two betas tag teaming him.

You thrust yourself into the melee, fighting with both a sword you snatch off a fallen knight and your runes and staff. Energy begins to flow from you, leaking from your soul each time you use your runes - you’re careful to rotate your usage of the different ones inscribed on your skin, making sure you don’t tire a specific one, yet still you feel the itch of their overuse, and the knights pouring in aren’t thinning.

You catch sight of Goemul through the grappling bodies, and a flash of pure fear rivets you to the spot despite yourself. He’s locked in combat with Chan, but the spike in your scent catches both their attention, Goemul’s roar piercing through the sound of clashing blades. Chan hands seamlessly over to Changbin, and you feel his gaze pinpoint on you as he cuts through any attackers that try to stop him as he approaches.

You try to ignore his insistent stare, instead whacking one of the intruders over the head with your staff and forcefully bringing your knee up into his stomach. Chan is sweaty, his shoulders heaving from the fight, and guilt stings your chest - if it wasn’t for you, Goemul and his pack wouldn’t be here.

‘I thought I told Jisung to tell you to run.’

His voice is rough, raspy no doubt from shouting orders to the boys, and nearly drowned out from the din of the fight, yet you hear him clearly, attuned to the sound of your pack leader’s voice.

‘I wanted to stay and fight. It’s my fault, anyway.’

‘This is not your fault,’ Chan snaps. ‘We all knew Goemul would come after you.’

‘And yet you took me in anyway,’ you mutter.

He gives you a sharp look. ‘You need to run. We’re not going to last much longer. We’re tired, and we weren’t expecting it. We need you to break us out when they take us prisoner.’

You don’t think about the other option, the option that doesn’t include taking prisoners and includes death, instead breathing out an anxious: ‘What if I can’t?’

‘I know you can. I trust you, omega.’

Even in the midst of a fight, Chan knows what to say to put you at ease. He knows what is needed to look after his pack, and you know that he knows this, without doubt. You can see that your alphas are tiring, can see that this attack came as a surprise - Changbin is fighting with a hammer used for shaping swords, for fuck’s sake.

You swallow thickly. ‘I love you, Channie. Keep them safe, please. Keep yourself safe.’

Curtly, he nods. No promises. You turn on your heel and run.

You’ve been told all your life that omegas don’t fight, that omegas aren’t fierce. Omegas don’t retaliate, and they take whatever they’re given by their alphas without complaint.

Too bad that’s all been proven official bullshit.

The night is hostile. Clouds scuttle across the sky, polluting the moon’s pure silver light, and the soggy leaves beneath your feet muffle your footsteps - it’s cold, dark, damp, but you’re kept warm by the hot fury that you’ve been nursing since that night, knotted in a ball nestled right beside your heart.

Leaves are flattened beneath your boots. Wind weaves its way thinly through the tree trunks, singing lowly to itself. The stars are blotted from the sky, the moon a thin, faltering sliver. You walk onwards, staff sturdy against your palm.

Tonight is a perfect night for revenge.

Tonight you’re going to make sure Goemul leaves your pack alone for good, and tonight you’re going to make sure that you’re reunited with your alphas. It doesn’t matter that you’re an omega - you will fight. You can fight.

Your staff is testament to that. So are the attack runes painted in practised calligraphy on both your hands, the black ink winding up your forearms - you’ve added more since your alphas were taken from you, enough to extinguish the possibility of exhausting all of them. There are runes to boil a man’s brain in his skull, runes to explode his lungs even as he draws breath, runes made so you can protect your pack.

You are also half feral with the beginnings of your heat.

Blood rushes through your body, your heart pumping so hard in your chest you think it may punch through your ribs; your pupils are fully dilated, anticipating the fight. There’s a roaring in your ears, and intertwined in the thunderous, earsplitting noise of it is an insistent whisper: protect, protect, protect.

There’s no preventing this timing. Every second you spend without your pack, they could be hurting, bleeding, worse. All the preheat does is give you a vicious edge - the desperation of a cornered animal, the strength of one who has nothing else to lose.

You think this is what your ancestors must have felt, back when there were no cities, no castles made of rock, no swords or books, just the primal urge to hunt and fight and protect. You wonder if they smile down on you. You wonder if they slip silently across the narrow path before you, guiding you with ghostly hands, spurring you forward, closer to your pack, closer to the keep.

Closer to Goemul.

Once, he owned you. Owned you, because he does not believe omegas can belong - they can only be owned. You would spend nights curled on the stone floor, trying to rid yourself of his awful scent, nights where you would stare up at the pitiless rafters - even they smelt like him, wishing you were anywhere but where you were.

And then came Seungmin, carrying with him the scent of warm embers and freedom.

Somehow, here you are again, back on Goemul’s territory. You knew he wouldn’t let you go easily; you are proof to those he crushes beneath his boot heels that there is an escape.

There are two knights posted outside the keep’s wide wooden doors - thankfully ones that won’t recognise you. Faintly, you can hear the sounds of a feast within, yellow light spilling out into the night. Overhead, the clouds coalesce, and something in the air sharpens - the first patter of rain hits the tree canopy, muting your footsteps as you step forward.

‘Halt,’ one of the guards commands. ‘State your purpose.’

‘I’m just a blacksmith, sir,’ you reply meekly. ‘Looking to sell my wares to the lord and his men.’

The other guard grunts, sending a nod to the one who spoke, and swings open a hatch set in the big doors, the hinges groaning in protest. Ducking your head, you step into the great hall: it’s a huge, cavernous room made of rough, dark granite with flaming sconces fixed to the walls and violent tapestries hung between them; it’s where Goemul receives his guests.

Just the sight of the place makes your stomach turn, but it’s the heavy stench of musk that forces you to hide the shaking of your hands in the folds of your cloak. The musk in Goemul’s scent is heavy and suffocating, like a dirty, soaked blanket dumped discourteously over one’s head - nothing like Chan’s.

You glance around the hall. There are about three alphas to every omega in the room; the latter are interspersed throughout the former, either chained or collared - something that you remember all too well. Two lounge on the podium beneath Goemul’s chair, which is really more of a throne with its gaudy ornate carvings, their hands on him, their eyes brimming with fear.

You remember that, too.

And there, in the corner, you see them. Your nails dig into your palms. Your pack. Your pack. Crammed in a tiny cage, chained to a ring set in the wall, curled against each other. Nothing can hide the anger that rises in your scent when you see that Chan has pushed his way to the front, protecting his boys, bruises flowering across his face and neck and arms, dried blood smeared on his tattered shirt.

You know Goemul. You know that the cage is purpose built to hold prisoners used for entertainment.

Unmistakable now, fury soars on you, permeating the smell of the feast, permeating Goemul’s pungent musk.

Slowly, heads begin to turn. They don’t recognise you - you’ve masked your scent with runes scrawled down your collarbones and ringing your wrists, written over twice to hide the smell of your preheat. Still, they stare, with a sort of reluctant curiosity.

‘A blacksmith, my lord,’ one of the guards announces from behind you.

Goemul narrows his eyes, trying to see your face from the shadows of your hood. ‘What for?’

‘Looking to sell her wares, she said.’

He guffaws, and the sound of laughter ripples through those sitting at the banqueting table even though they don’t know what’s amusing him. Slowly, he gets to his feet, the two omegas scrambling to give him space - you see the glint of a chain pulling tight, fixed to the base of the podium. The guard beside you shuffles his feet nervously. Somewhere within the darkened cage, you swear you see someone stir.

‘What wares, guard?’

Gleefully, Goemul inhales like he’s feasting upon the guard’s fear as he realises you carry nothing, just the staff in your hand. You hear his muttered curse, the whoosh of air when he takes in a hurried breath, preparing to spill out apologies, not knowing how this has raised his lord’s wrath so intensely but knowing that he needs to beg and scrape if he wants to live.

‘Leave.’

Goemul’s voice hasn’t even finished ringing through the hall before the guard is tripping over himself to slam the hatch behind him, not waiting to see if his lord will withdraw his mercy. Slowly, Goemul settles back down on his throne, the omegas assuming their previous positions, their hands running over his legs as if to appease his anger.

You let your cowl fall back, revealing your features.

A murmur ripples through Goemul’s men.

He waits until they’re quiet. Around the room, the omegas watch you with wide eyes - you know they recognise you, you know they’re wondering why you would ever choose to return to this cursed place. Nearest to you, one jerks his head a little, as if to tell you to run.

‘I knew you’d come crawling back, my omega,’ he grins, smiling with too many teeth. ‘Although, I guess I do have something of yours, don’t I?’

‘I am not yours, Goemul,’ you hiss.

Lightning flares outside, followed by a strident clap of thunder.

‘Your pack is, though,’ he chuckles. ‘We had so much fun together, little omega. Channie and I are well acquainted now, since we had our nice pack leader to pack leader conversation.’

‘You keep his name out your mouth,’ you snap.

‘He bled a lot, though,’ Goemul muses, faking thoughtfulness. ‘I can’t seem to understand why.’

His dark eyes bore into yours, waiting to see your response. You can tell that he knows his goading is getting to you - he’s smiling that infernal smile, the one that makes you want to peel his skin from his bones and force it down his throat with a dagger.

Outside, thunder growls, low and furious.

You raise your staff. ‘You leave me no choice.’

Eyes locked on his, you bring it down. The oakwood hits the stone floor with a sound far louder than it should be, as if the very rock beneath your feet has split, rended apart down to the Earth’s very core. A muffled whoompf follows, and one by one, the torches in the sconces are snuffed out by an unseen force. Darkness descends.

All around, you sense scents spiking - they may be Goemul’s men, but they still feel fear; you doubt any of them have met someone who wields sorcery, let alone an omega. A hush falls over the hall, loaded with the anticipation before a fight.

‘A little bit of shadow won’t scare us, omega,’ Goemul calls.

You don’t reply. You’re busy stalking silently across the room, a key in your hand. It doesn’t matter that it’s not the one from the ring on Goemul’s belt - it’s covered all over with unlocking runes moulded right into the metal, something you forged yourself.

There’s a tinge of wild anger in Goemul’s voice when he speaks again. ‘Omega?’

When you reach through the bars of the cage, a warm, calloused hand is already waiting. Now that you’re close, you can smell their individual scents, the hurt and the exhaustion on them. Your eyes have adjusted to the gloom just enough that you can see Felix curled against Changbin, and although they’re both smiling proudly at you, eyes fierce, you can see the pain in their faces too. It sets bitter anger roiling within you, as deep and wrathful as the storm outside.

You know Goemul is listening. You hope he is, as the sound of a key in a lock and the clatter of chains rings out through the room. You hope he feels the control slipping through his desperate, clawing fingers as nervous whispers riffle through the great hall, as alphas reach for their swords, disbelieving that Goemul failed to make a single, lone omega submit to him.

And then, low and menacing and crystal clear, Chan growls.

You feel everyone in the hall freeze at the sound. There are no words to the deep rumble vibrating in his chest, just the white hot, primal fury of a leader whose pack has been hurt. Simply the tone of it roots half the men in the hall to the spot, the hairs on the backs of their necks rising, their palms slick with sweat as they stare wide eyed into the darkness.

‘Goemul,’ Chan snarls, stepping from the cage. ‘I swear I will not rest until you are dead.’

The last part comes out as a roar, and with it, chaos descends.

Before the echo of Chan’s voice has even died down, air whooshes past you - what must be Changbin and Minho shooting out of the cage. A strangled cry sounds as they finish off the closest two alphas, wrenching their swords from their belts to fight with. Someone’s hand brushes your waist as the rest of your pack members swiftly exit the cage: Felix, by the gentle scent of violets that washes over you, and yet on it you can almost taste the yearning to fight.

Your alphas are not vengeful. Protective, however, is a different story, and as each of their unique scents spread out across the room, meeting Goemul’s alphas that slash out blindly with their swords blow for blow, you know each of them are thinking of what all of you have gone through under Goemul’s orders.

Above it all, Goemul’s battle cry rings out, but you don’t flinch, don’t bat an eyelash - you’re ready for him this time, fresh runes all over your skin. Your alphas may be injured, but they’ve been cooped up in a too small cage for almost a week and they’re sure as hell fucking angry.

A feverish, clammy hand grabs your wrist. Hot air laced with the stink of ale puffs against your cheek. ‘Witch.’

You take a step forward, stabbing out with the butt of your staff and catching your attacker in the stomach. A throng of them have formed around you, angry and growling and still reeling that one omega has caused this much havoc, their movements uncoordinated and laced with more fear than any of them would ever admit.

Under the low illumination of the lightning strikes, you can just about see they’ve made a ring around you. Maybe they think that their numbers will prevail over your sorcery and they’ve got a quick kill, because some of them are smiling as if the fight’s already over. You almost feel sorry for them.

Almost.

As you strike out with your staff, you think of Chan, welcoming you into his pack, back when all you could do around alphas was flinch - patient, soft spoken Channie, bloodied by Goemul and his men from shielding the boys with his body, half conscious from the violence.

You think of Minho as you break a man’s nose, Minho who said little to begin with but would always be silently checking on you, making sure you were comfortable, leaving you an extra blanket in winter before he eventually slept by your side, his body warm against yours, currently with a split lip and cracked ribs.

You knock a man’s sword from his hand, catching it in your own, and think of Changbin, always there to make you smile and feel safe with his big arms and tight hugs, always acting tough but in truth all soft and gooey on the inside, his knuckles now bloodied and face twisted in pain.

While you cut down another alpha that runs at you, you think of Hyunjin, who calls you his muse, who crafts the most beautiful ornate daggers back at the smithy, and who gave you his favourite one with a sweet kiss on your forehead and a promise to never leave you, painted with bruises that spread wide over his back.

Your stolen blade clashes against an attacker’s as you think of Jisung, your Jisung who never fails to make you laugh, never fails to wrap his arms around you from behind when you need it most, beaten until he blacked out, his eyes almost swollen shut from the bruising.

The runes painted on your palms glow bright while you think of Felix, who baked you sweet treats and wiped your tears every day that they fell, who healed your soul with his sunshine smile, nose bloody and near broken from repeated blows.

Fatigue makes your arm tremble as you swing your sword, but you fight on, thinking of Seungmin, who was the first to find you, the first to plant the seed of hope, always the one who dispels your doubts with the sureness of his words, his head now bowed and teeth gritted to fight to keep down the cry that builds within him from the pain.

Your blade gets stuck between an alpha’s ribs, so you whirl your staff in your hands and think of Jeongin, sweet, sweet Jeongin who would hold your hand after the nightmares, whispering reassurances and holding you until you could fall asleep again, his big hands carding through your hair, bloodied and beaten for nothing but sport.

You fight, and as you do, you think of your alphas. You let the insistent whisper from before rise to become a roar, rise to drown out the sounds of the battle: protect, protect, protect. It burns like liquor as it rushes through your veins, and you find it strengthens you, even as the energy spills from you through the usage of your runes; it guides your blade, guides your staff, ensuring your strikes hit home.

And then, all of a sudden, no one’s attacking you any more.

No one is running at you with swords, derisive words on their lips, no one is throwing punches at you or trying to sweep your legs out from under you so they can kick you when you’re down. You sway a little, half expecting someone to appear out of nowhere, but all the remaining alphas subservient to Goemul are fighting elsewhere or have fled - they weren’t prepared, instead lulled into a false sense of safety within their own keep. There’s a ring of bodies slumped on the floor around you.

Something wrenches in your gut, twisting. A warning: your heat will be upon you soon - the longest you have left is a few hours. Sweat suddenly pricks at your body. You need to finish this, and quickly.

Chan blurs by, exchanging hurled punches and vicious kicks with Goemul. You’re leaning against your staff for support, catching your breath, but as three alphas dive into the melee, clawing at Chan’s back and hauling him off Goemul, and as you spot the two omegas, still chained to the podium and cowering under a half collapsed table, unable to escape, you find you aren’t really that tired after all.

You’re on Goemul within seconds.

He grins. ‘Hello again, my little omega - ’

You punch him across the face. Hard. His head snaps to the side, and you grab his shirt, slamming him once, twice against the hard, unforgiving floor of his great hall, savage red fog hazing your vision, not letting up even when you feel the crunch of his nose beneath your knuckles.

‘You’re stupid, Goemul,’ - you spit the name he’s created for himself - ‘for underestimating omegas. You think you’re destined to lord over us all, when all you are is a fucking scared little pup clinging to control and power you don’t deserve.’

Despite it all, he laughs, and blood glistens on his teeth. ‘You’re driving yourself crazy, little omega. I can smell the heat on you - you can’t kill me if your body needs my knot. All you need to do is to ask for it, sweet thing, and I’ll give it to you.’

Your grip on him falters, and he flips you, pinning you to the floor beneath him. Struggling against his grip, you thrash, your careful runes long forgotten, crimson rolling in like mist over the hills, and something wide and primal yawns open within you - your lips pull back, and you bare your teeth at him, pupils dilating as you lurch your head forward, snapping at his throat.

Goemul dodges just in time, holding you at arms length even as you claw at his face and neck. All you can hear is protect, protect, protect and the hidden voice beneath it saying kill him and end it, make him pay, do it for the pack, for your alphas.

His eyes widen. ‘You’re a maniac.’

You look up, over his shoulder, past him, your laugh chilling. ‘Yes.’

Impossibly, his eyes open further, bulging, and a low, strained gurgle sounds from deep in his throat. Trembling, one of his hands comes up to his chest, and he looks down, surprise and fear contorting his features as his finger gets sliced open on the tip of the blade protruding from between his collarbones.

Goemul’s eyes roll back, and his body slumps over you, deadweight. Dazed, you gaze up at Jeongin, admiring his handsome features, albeit splattered with gore from the fight and covered with a look of disgust as he places a foot on Goemul’s back and wrenches his sword out. It makes a wet, sucking sound as it goes, and your alpha dumps the sword on the floor in favour of heaving the cooling body off you and pulling you into his arms.

Mint and lavender, clean and fresh and soothing, rush at your senses as you take a deep breath in. You’re clinging onto Jeongin so hard that it must be hurting him, but he doesn’t seem to mind, holding you just as tightly to him, burying his face in your neck, his nose right against your scent gland as he just inhales.

Eventually, you jostle him, your senses coming back to you. You need to grab your staff; you can still fight, even though the ink of more than half of the writing on your hands and wrists has flaked off, the exhausted runes leaving light burns in their wake.

‘Where’s my staff?’ You mumble, wriggling in his grip. ‘I can still - ’

A hand smooths over your hair, someone coming up behind Jeongin so they can look you in the eyes from where you’re peeking over his shoulder, searching for the familiar oakwood. You blink. It’s Minho, his eyes soft, hair a mess.

‘It’s over, jagiya,’ he murmurs. ‘You don’t have to fight any more. We’re safe now.’

Eventually, his words echo in your head, beginning to register - over, safe now - and you go limp in Jeongin’s arms, burying your face in his shoulder and letting out a damp, shaky breath, hands fisting in his shirt. Your impending heat burns at your core, pulling you this way and that, but the nearness of your alphas grounds you, keeps you tethered to them.

You have just the presence to reach out to Minho, fingers brushing over his side as the healing runes written around the tops of your forearms flare to life, their glow different from the ones intended for attack - they’re the orangey pink of a rising dawn, like tiny suns pulsating beneath your skin. They begin to burn, uncomfortably hot as you heal Minho’s cracked ribs, then Felix’s nose and Han’s swollen black eyes, followed by all the injuries of your alphas that you can with the energy you have spare.

You’re panting by the end of it, drained. You’ve still neglected some of the less serious flesh wounds, but the well inside of you that was full to the brim with potency when you first entered the keep has run dry. If it weren’t for your heat fast approaching, you might have more energy, but you don’t, so that’s what you’re forced to settle with as you close your eyes and try to stop yourself from wriggling too much in Jeongin’s grip.

‘I’ll take her,’ someone says, and you’re being transferred into another’s arms.

Clean linen and cinnamon, crisp and familiar, crashes over you, and you nestle into Jisung’s arms, trying to absorb his body heat as he kisses your face - the urge to nest is beginning to grow stronger, now that the adrenaline from the fight is leaving your system, and he’s so warm.

Somewhere far away, you can hear Felix’s low, comforting voice as he talks to Goemul’s omegas, and Chan’s too, instructing them and pointing them towards the east wing of the keep - you know at some point, they’ll want to talk to you, but for now you rest your chin on Jisung’s shoulder, closing your eyes and leaning your weight against him. Some of them remain in the hall, putting the bodies in neat piles up against the wall to be buried later or tending to anyone with injuries.

‘We’re going to find somewhere for you to nest now, baby,’ Jisung says into your hair. ‘Hyunjinnie is going to take you while we look.’

Another set of arms wraps around you, lean and wiry and smelling like roses and grapefruit but mainly roses, achingly close, strong enough to make you want to cry. He nuzzles at your neck, his long hair tickling your face and collarbones. Part of you is singing, happy only now that you’re surrounded by your alphas, happy that -

Hyunjin’s tongue flicks over your scent gland.

You know he doesn’t mean to set off anything - he does it a lot, just to calm you or show affection, but you’re teetering on the brink, hanging in the balance, and this is what tips you over. Just like that, your first wave of slick comes, and all of a sudden there’s an insistent ache between your legs. You stiffen in his arms.

‘Alpha,’ you whine, voice small.

Around you, you hear rather than see the boys pause. No doubt their instincts are kicking in, already perked up at the heady spike in your scent, telling them to look after their omega and knot and breed and give you pups. There are the other omegas in the room, too, but even they freeze, affected by the possessive twang rolling off each of your alpha’s scents.

Hyunjin shifts just a little against you, and you feel his hardening cock heavy against your hip. A gasp escapes you, and it’s like the sound of it jolts your alphas back up to the present, because they’re moving again, hurrying, in a slight frenzy as they continue to help move the bodies and organise the rest of the omegas.

The fog of your heat is descending, and the rational part of you hates this timing - you need to look after your alphas, tend to their wounds that you couldn’t heal, but the animal part of you clamours over it, making you squirm uncomfortably, pushing Hyunjin away as you spin around, searching for a place to nest. You breath comes out in gasps: you can’t have your heat without a nest, but you don’t know if there are rooms free, if -

A firm hand sweeps up your back, landing on the nape of your neck and holding it, not quite scruffing you but breaking through your rising panic, making you listen. The scent of cocoa and gentle musk overcomes you, and when you look up at Chan, his dark, authority filled eyes pinning you down, another round of slick gushes out of you, and he smiles a little at your response to him.

‘Pack leader,’ you yip, ducking your head. ‘L - leader, alpha - ’

‘You’re going to be okay,’ Chan soothes. ‘Your alphas are here, okay? We’re going to get you to the bed Changbin and Jisung have found for you so you can nest. Just hang in there, omega.’

‘What about the other omegas?’ You ask, struggling to meet his eyes.

‘They’re in the other wing,’ he replies, then preempts your next words. ‘We’ll find new packs for them; we’re not going to replace you, sweetheart. Just let your alphas take care of you, yeah?’

Gently, he takes your hand in his and rubs his thumb along the scent gland at your wrist. A quiet, needy noise tears itself from your throat, and suddenly your legs are buckling - Chan catches you and scoops you up, one hand cradling the back of your head as he carries you through the passages leading from the hall and into the guest wing.

You’re lowered onto the softest mattress you’ve ever felt. It’s funny how all your time trapped in this keep, you never slept on anything but the cold stone floor - but now, your alphas are here, either still in the great hall, here with you or in what you understand is the bathroom next door, and Goemul’s dead, and you’re safe.

Chan kisses your crown and leaves you be for now as you hurriedly arrange the blankets. The bed is huge, wider than you are tall, yet you still crave your nest at home, items of clothing hoarded from your alphas tucked neatly amongst the bedding you’d padded it with - the sheets here are clean, but devoid of smell. It doesn’t compare.

You sit back on your heels. ‘The nest, it’s nowhere near good enough.’

Seungmin appears by your side, rubbing his thumb over the scent gland in your neck, his lips in your hair. ‘No, omega, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.’

The praise relaxes you, calms you, and you melt into his touch, leaning against him and pushing your face into his side, resting your cheek on his bare skin - like the others, he’d surrendered his shirt for your nest without complaint. His touch is feather light as he strokes your hair, and your eyelids droop a little.

Seungmin pecks your lips. ‘You need to sleep now, before your heat fully hits. We’ll all be here when you wake up.’

He watches you lay down, perching on the mattress so you have an alpha close to you while you fall asleep. Yawning, you curl up close to him. This will be the last proper rest you get until the end of your heat.

You close your eyes, the scent of warm embers washing over you.

You wake up sweating.

The ache between your legs has spread upwards and outwards, and you curl into a ball from the pain of it, eyes blurry as you blindly reach your hands out, searching for an alpha. You can hear yourself babbling, begging for a knot, begging to be filled up, because they’re all right there, curled up on the mattress, surrounding you, but they’re all asleep, all eight of them leaving you here in heat on your own, without a knot, and you can’t think beyond the need; you’re going to implode if someone doesn’t -

Sure hands unfurl you, flipping you so you’re spread flat on the mattress. The weight of one of your alphas traps you in place, and you moan, back arching when a hot tongue slides along the column of your throat, halting at your scent gland and sucking the sensitive skin there.

Sweet vanilla rolls over your senses. His teeth bite and suck at your collarbone, and you groan, head all jumbled with need, your body still locked up from the cramps as you fumble with his boxers, urgency rendering you clumsy.

Mercifully, one of your alphas has stripped you down to your underwear while you were sleeping, and you find you don’t even have the time to take them off, instead hooking your leg around Minho’s hip and grinding your throbbing core down on his hardening cock. Lightning pulses through your cunt at the way his lids half close in pleasure, filling you with the need to please your alpha, to be of use to him.

He tears your underwear off with a flick of his wrist. Your pussy is only getting wetter.

Dipping his head, Minho claims your lips, and the brush of his tongue against yours makes your head spin faster than it already is, your hands coming up to tangle with his hair as his hips roll to meet yours.

‘F - fuck,’ you choke out, jolting when Minho sinks two fingers inside you and scissors them.

His lips travel lower to trace down your sternum. ‘Gotta stretch you out for the boys, jagiya.’

You find yourself squirming a little; his fingers are curling, pumping in and out of you at exactly the pace you normally like, but your body is working itself up to the wild throes at the peak of your heat and you need more, so much more. You tell him so, and he chuckles, kissing you again like it’s going to distract you from the way he’s lining himself up at the entrance of your cunt.

Barely the tip of him is in before you’re clenching hard, painfully hard, scrabbling at the bedsheets and crying his name so loud it’s a wonder the boys don’t stir. He licks and sucks at your scent gland, relaxing you until your muscles ease up and he can move - despite all your slick, you still feel the burn of his cock. He’s stretching you out, just like he said he would.

Agonisingly, he pulls out, just to slam back in again, balls deep, punching the air out of your lungs. Minho fucks you roughly, like you need at the start of your heat, his cock reaching so deep inside you you think he might be in your guts - he’s not fast, just so intense that tears are forming on your lash line and you’re panting, fighting for breath.

Then, he’s forcing your legs up onto his shoulders, and the new angle makes you wail, because he’s destroying your cunt in a way that has your thighs shaking and your chest heaving, pleas for more spilling out of you uncontrollably.

Minho has a way of wringing pleasure from you, fucking you so good that you can’t do anything but repeat his name over and over; you feel yourself suspended on the edge, fire licking up your sides, so close, so close, so close -

Mid-thrust, he pauses.

‘Alpha,’ you scream, voice breaking pitifully. ‘Alpha, please - ’

There’s something half sadistic in his eyes when he looks down at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, teasing as he enjoys the way you struggle, bucking against him desperately, begging like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

‘Sungie’s woken up from all your noise, omega,’ Minho remarks impassively. ‘Maybe you should give him a hand.’

No sooner has he finished speaking than an achingly hard cock makes its way into your palm, and you cast your teary eyes upward, only half there as you witness Jisung’s head fall back in pleasure when you begin to jerk him, because thank all that is good, Minho’s moving again, tearing you apart and putting you back together with those powerful thrusts of his hips.

He’s hitting that spot inside you, and each time he does, paralysing bolts of pleasure shoot down your spine. Your orgasm crushes you with its magnitude, whiting out your vision, and through it, you blindly beg for his knot, beg him to fill you, beg him to stuff you with load after load.

‘That’s right, omega,’ he grits out. ‘Let it all out for me.’

Tears finally spill over, trickling down your face, the pleasure leaving you rapt, brows drawn together and mouth hanging open, and still he fucks into you; you can feel the slight burn as his knot begins to engorge, and you know he’s so close, so almost filling you up.

Your thoughts grow indistinct the moment Minho spills hot inside you, his knot popping into place and locking you together. Jisung comes not a moment later, letting go with a short cry all over your chest, and if you were not full and happy with Minho’s knot, you’d be fretting about the waste. Instead, you close your eyes and murmur a pleased ‘alpha’, fingers brushing lightly over a bandage on Minho’s arm as the two of them begin to lick the come off you.

You must drift off, because when you resurface, Jisung, Minho and his knot are gone, most likely to the bathroom, and instead you can feel Seungmin’s long fingers working lazily between your legs, just enough to take the edge off the bite of your cramps. He’s got your back propped up against his chest, and you wiggle, bucking your hips up into his touch, inhaling the smell of warm embers.

‘What do you think you’re doing, omega?’

You freeze at the dominance in his tone. Remaining silent, you gaze up at him, wide eyed and head full of cotton as he pins you beneath him, the ravenous look on his face making your neck and cheeks flush. You can feel his cock against your thigh, but he doesn’t allow you to move, doesn’t move himself, just stares down at you, waiting.

Slowly, you tilt your head back, exposing the vulnerable expanse of your throat - a display of utter submission. A low whine escapes you when his breath caresses your skin, his nose brushing against your jugular as he inhales your scent.

‘Good omega,’ Seungmin murmurs. ‘Our omega.’

‘Yours,’ you echo, and this time, he lets you buck against him.

Another hot rush of slick leaves you at the friction of his clothed cock against you, and you gasp his name, rubbing your cheek all over his neck and chest, trying to cover him in your scent. He allows it, letting you press yourself against him, desperation soaking your scent, your hands roaming his body urgently, trying to tell him that you need his knot because all your mouth can seem to do right now is say ‘alpha’, again and again and again.

In one smooth sweep, Seungmin gathers your wrists above your head and pins them there. A sound leaves you, so eager and pathetic that your cheeks flush and you struggle half heartedly against him, but he’s yanking off his boxers and running his fingers through your folds to transfer your arousal and make sure his dick will be wet enough. If you stay still, you think you might die.

Yet another round of slick is pouring from you. He chuckles, seeing your cunt clench as he spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his cock - you know he’s doing it to taunt you. Whoever goes first always makes sure you’re prepped.

‘Ready for my knot, omega?’ Seungmin coos. ‘Think you can take it?’

‘Yes,’ you whine. ‘Yes, alpha, yes, give it to me, I can, I can - ’

Your mouth snaps shut when he thrusts into you, your eyes widening and back arching as thrill after thrill races up your spine, making your cunt bear down on him, squeezing him tight and greedily sucking him in further. The moment he starts moving, you know he’s not going to go easy on you.

Seungmin is going to make you earn it.

He releases your hands, letting you grab onto him as he fucks into you, fast, unrelenting. Almost sly, his fingers drag down your stomach so he can rub them over your clit in tight circles - your pussy flutters in response, clamping down on him. A muttered curse escapes him; you can feel every muscle of his back taut under your grip, the vein in his neck beginning to strain, yet all he does is go harder.

Something within you buckles. Not a second later, you come, clenching around his cock, squeezing him so tight he’s forced to grind into you further, your cunt refusing to let him pull out. You expect him to ease up, give you a moment to rest but he continues the moment he can, unforgiving.

Overstimulation sears at you, cutting through the cloudiness fogging your brain, and you yawp, scrabbling at Seungmin’s back, thighs jumping with every drag of his cock against your walls as you rake your nails against his skin in a way that must be hurting his battered, not quite healed body, but he doesn’t shake you off, doesn’t seem to mind.

‘Stop thrashing if you want your alpha’s knot,’ he snarls.

‘W - want it,’ you babble, trying to stay still for him. ‘Need it so bad, alpha.’

‘Then take it.’

He punctuates his words with deep rolls of his hips, and this time you can’t not move, because the pads of his fingers are back on your clit, torturous, creating friction so impossibly blissful that it hurts, and he’s hammering his dick into you, so quick that you can’t form words any more, and then - and then -

Once again, you come, and he slams his knot inside you.

Your back bows, your fingers twisting into the sheets until someone grabs your hand and squeezes it as tightly you are squeezing theirs. It’s not Seungmin’s, you realise - his are too busy propping him up, holding him above you. Turning your head to the side, you smile: it’s Minho, half asleep with his eyes almost closed and a silly little grin on his face.

Huffing, his breath ruffling your hair, Seungmin pokes at your face, bringing your attention back to him. You tip your head up and fit your lips to his, a warm, happy buzz engulfing you now that you’re full, and he lowers himself on top of you so you can lie there together, joined by his knot nestled inside your sated cunt as sleep tugs you both under.

You wake up to cacao and musk, lips closed over your scent gland, gently sucking. Whatever Seungmin’s knot and the orgasms he plucked from you did to appease your heat have worn off, and fast, because you’re sweating all over, hips moving against the firmness below you and you don’t know where you are, just that there are hands on your body and a mouth on your neck keeping back the flames.

‘Leader,’ you mewl, half crazy on his scent. ‘Alpha, need your knot,’

‘I’ve got you,’ Chan croons. ‘Alpha’s got you.’

It begins to dawn on you that you’re straddling his lap, grinding down frantically on his thigh, his hands cool where they coast over your burning skin, smoothing circles over your back. Taking your chin in his fingers, he tilts your face up until you’re looking at him. The moment you meet his eyes, you still, hips hovering over his.

‘You going to behave for me, omega?’

You nod so hard it hurts your neck. ‘Yes, alpha, so good, so good for you. Promise.’

‘Sweet girl,’ he coos. ‘My omega.’

Leaving trails of goosebumps behind, Chan’s hands slide down your torso, down to caress the curves of your hips, down to right where you need him. There’s a moment where he just holds your cunt, fingers pressing between your folds until you break and rock against the heel of his palm, chasing away the building pressure between your legs in favour of momentary relief, wobbly voiced pleas rushing from you as your slick soaks him to the wrist.

Nosing at your throat, he laves his tongue over your scent gland, one hand coming round to grip your ass as he positions you closer to him. When he looks up at you, you see the same haze that blankets your mind clouding his eyes - you must be nearing the peak of your heat for your scent to affect him so. He’s barely holding himself back.

‘Okay?’ He verifies. ‘Can take it?’

‘Y - yes, yes,’ you reply, grinding your hips down despite his steady grip on you, searching for his cock.

That’s all it takes for him to lurch upwards, sheathing himself in your heat like it was made for him. The remainder of the sentence on your tongue dissolves into a keening moan, your lips falling open, eyes unfocused and rolled back; he gives you barely a second to adjust to his thickness before he’s pounding into you, holding you in place above him with his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

You grab at his broad shoulders, needing something to anchor you with the way he’s jerking your whole body up and down with every punishing thrust. Chan’s fucking up into you like he wants you to forget your own name, like he wants you to forget everything but the surge of his cock through your spasming walls; he’s got you dumb, mouth agape, the sounds that leave you wordless but pleading.

It’s as if your senses have narrowed to the giddying scent of your alpha and the promise of his knot in the snap of his hips against yours - you can’t think of anything else.

Dimly, you realise he’s speaking between the sloppy kisses he adorns your neck and chest with, groaning and mumbling against your skin as his teeth nip at your scent gland, stimulating you in a way that brings century old instincts to the surface - it has you shuddering, nails buried into the meat of his biceps as you twist your head back to bare your throat to your alpha.

‘Good omega,’ he’s gasping, words slurred, reaching so deep inside you all you can do is take it. ‘Made for me, omega - fuck, fuck, squeezing me so well - gonna give you my knot, sweetheart, give you my pups, gotta breed you, gonna - ’

Chan moans so loud it’s almost a howl, slamming you down on his cock to the hilt one last time, fingers furiously working your clit. The hot spill of his seed yanks you unceremoniously over the edge, and you feel your pussy constrict around his knot - he hisses at the feel of it, his chest, mottled with bruises, heaving as he comes down from the high, eyes beginning to focus on you.

Fuck, he looks good, all sweaty and panting and still a bit dazed, his curls ruffled and a dumb little blissed out smile plastered on his face. Tugging you close, he lets his forehead fall against your collarbones, pushing his face between your tits - you giggle as he sighs happily into their plushness, tucking your arms around him and holding him close, sated and so incredibly, wonderfully full.

‘So good for me, sweetheart,’ he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

You preen at his words, and his hands move up from where they were splayed out on your back to stroke your hair, smoothing it down and untangling some of the knots with his fingers. Curling up as much as you can in this position, you lean your head on Chan’s shoulder, basking in the reassuring presence of your alpha.

Something warm presses against your leg, and you look down to see Jeongin, balled up facing Seungmin with his back pushed up against the length of your thigh, his angular face softened in sleep. Grinning, you brush a hand over his cheek, and he stirs, humming drowsily before settling again.

A hand rubs at the small of your back, and you turn to see that Felix has woken up. Despite the fact that his blonde hair is mussed and he’s squinting against the light of the torches in the sconces on the walls, he’s smiling sweetly at you, gaze bright and soft.

‘Felix, please could you grab that for me?’ Chan’s gesturing to a small platter on the bedside table.

Clambering over a slumbering Minho and Jisung and almost tripping up on Changbin’s outstretched leg, he retrieves it and hands it to Chan, who supports you with a hand on your waist so you can sit back and tuck into the slices of bread and cheese on the plate. You hadn’t realised how hungry you were until now - your stomach rumbles at just the smell of the food.

Through a mouthful, you beam. ‘Thanks, Lix.’

He leans over Changbin to kiss you sweetly, filling your nose with the scent of violets and sunshine. ‘Once Chan’s knot goes down I’ll take you to the bath, okay?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply. ‘I’m all sticky.’

‘My bad,’ Chan chuckles, rubbing his hands up and down your sides and making your brain all fuzzy.

By the time you’ve finished the food, Chan’s knot has come down enough to slip out of you - both of you groan when he pulls out, his come rolling down your thighs. You glance over at Felix and see him watching, and when you look down you can see he’s semi hard and sending you a sheepish grin.

A great yawn splits your face in half, and you stretch your cramped legs as you shuffle awkwardly off the bed, pausing to give Chan a kiss before he scoots down and tugs the blanket over him, nuzzling close to Jeongin. Lifting you up, Felix carries you to the bathroom - Hyunjin looks up from where he’s perched on a rickety wooden stool in the corner, holding something delicately in his hands and smirking.

‘That cavewoman omega in you really likes it when Chan fucks you like that, huh?’

You roll your eyes. ‘Go on and pretend you weren’t hard.’

‘Why are you holed up in here, anyway?’ Felix asks as he helps you into the wooden tub.

‘Changbin was rolling around in his sleep,’ he shrugs. ‘Didn’t want to stab him.’

Proudly, Hyunjin holds up the piece of wood he’s been whittling - it’s a lovely piece of limewood, light and creamy in colour, and it must be a maquette for a sword hilt he’s planning on making, because it’s carved with whorls and flowing arches, as if the wood itself is malleable clay in his skilled hands.

‘I like it,’ Felix says as he helps soap your back. ‘It’s pretty.’

Hyunjin gives him a look. ‘Of course.’

You chuckle. ‘Yeah, Felix, when did he ever make something that wasn’t pretty?’

‘Hey, what about that time when - ’

‘No, it was pretty, you just - ’

Closing your eyes, you listen to the two of them bicker playfully, relishing the warmth of the water and the way it eases your sore muscles - you want to enjoy the momentary lucidity. You’re still somewhere in the highest intensity of your heat, and soon your body is going to want a knot again, even after having Chan’s so recently.

Right on queue, as if just thinking about it sets it off, your scent spikes, and you feel a wave of slick spill from you - it goes straight into the water, but both Hyunjin and Felix fall silent anyway, sensing your need from a mile away.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Hyunjin drags his stool closer to the tub.

Without further delay, Felix shucks off his boxers and climbs in. The water swills but doesn’t spill over, and he takes your chin and kisses you softly, careful not to lean too much of his weight on you; the moment he pulls back, Hyunjin is there, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip before pushing it into your mouth, and you moan around him when you feel the nudge of Felix’s cock head at your entrance.

All three of you groan when he slides in, and you turn your head to the side, unsurprised to see Hyunjin’s slender fingers curling around his cock, his carving abandoned to the side - your eyes glide upwards, locking on his as you suck on his thumb, still resting against your lips, and he visibly picks up his pace, face twisting in pleasure.

Hiding his face into your damp neck, Felix groans, low and deep, thrusting his hips forward until they kiss yours, so close that his pubic bone grinds over your clit. He fucks into you slowly and tenderly, and as he does, Hyunjin hooks his thumb under your chin and crams three of his fingers into your mouth up to the knuckle, grunting when your tongue swirls over them.

You’re still sensitive from Chan, maybe even from the two orgasms Seungmin coaxed from you, and the way Felix’s cock drags through you is driving you insane - almost as much as the praise they’re both showering upon you and the pump of Hyunjin’s fingers in and out of your mouth. Water is sloshing over the sides of the tub with each movement, and it’s as if you’re floating aimlessly, muscles lax and surrounded all over by this warmth.

Hyunjin comes first.

It’s Felix that sets him off: kissing you over the fingers buried in your mouth, his tongue sliding over them before he licks at your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and suddenly Hyunjin’s coming with a gasp, wrenching Felix off your front by his shoulder so he can spill over the part of your chest that’s above the water.

That’s what makes you come.

The sight of Hyunjin bent double over you and Felix, jerking himself until he’s spent and then some to overstimulate himself, the hand that had been in your mouth gripping the side of the tub so hard his knuckles run white - it’s too much. Your pussy convulses around Felix, and only then do you find your words, gasping that you need a knot, begging for his come.

It’s all too easy for him to give you what you want - more water splashes out of the tub and straight onto the bathroom floor as he seats his knot inside you, plugging his seed in so not a drop is wasted. He flops over you, panting.

‘I didn’t expect it to come back so fast,’ you remark as the three of you catch your breath.

‘So much for the bath,’ Felix laughs. ‘Maybe we should draw another one.’

The next time you open your eyes, it hits you full force. The ache in your core is so intense that all you can do is flail, thrashing and writhing and crying, all tangled up in the blankets which are soaked with your sweat and twisted around your legs, all tangled up in the consuming flames of your heat. There are warm bodies all around you; you can hear their breathing, but none of them are responding, and fuck it hurts -

This can’t be happening again -

You squeak in alarm as someone manhandles you onto your front so quickly that your head spins, holding your arms down so you can barely move - you’re grinding desperately down on the mattress, and you can feel the sheets beneath you grow wet with your slick.

‘Stay still, omega,’ a voice growls. ‘You’re going to push someone off the bed if you don’t.’

‘Alpha?’ You whimper, rubbing your thighs together. ‘It’s not enough, please - ’

‘Binnie’s here,’ he soothes, tone gentler now. ‘Binnie’s going to take care of you, okay? Hands and knees for me, omega.’

Tears of relief trickle down your face and seep into the cloth beneath you - Jeongin’s shirt. You scramble to obey your alpha’s command, only halting when Changbin pulls you in for a quick kiss that leaves you dizzy, as if he sucked the air from your lungs and replaced it with pure, unadulterated need. Squeezing your ass, he fucking bullies you into position, manoeuvring you until you’re face down, ass up.

You fist the sheets in your hands, trying to stay still but he’s taking his damn time. Arching your back, you push back on him, feverish, reduced to the urges of your idiot omega brain that you can’t ignore for the life of you. Your thighs are trembling as he lines himself up, your breath coming out in harsh pants.

With a harsh stab of his hips, he ploughs into you.

You wait for him to move, wait for him to fucking destroy you, but he doesn’t; he just holds himself there, infuriating, playing with you, and you’re wailing and trying to push back onto him more but he’s got you in his iron grip and then he’s cracking a hand down on your ass and you howl and finally -

Finally he’s moving.

Changbin is railing into you, unrelenting. You’re clenching so hard around him, desperate for his knot that your vision keeps blanking out, your voice breaking as you call his name, and surely it’s waking up the boys, but you don’t really care because you need him, need -

‘Need it, alpha,’ you sob, ‘Need it.’

‘I know, omega,’ he grits out. ‘Let your alpha take care of you.’

And then he gives you all you ask. He gives it to you, alright. He gives it to you so that the slick is running out of you and down your twitching thighs, he gives it to you so you’re hoarse from screaming his name - he gives it to you until you feel all limp and boneless beneath him, and still he draws you out, drilling into you like he was born to do it.

Just when you think he might be satisfied, Changbin hooks a hand under your arm and pulls you upright, pinning you against his chest and hitting a new, cataclysmic angle inside you; roughly, he bites down on the spot where you shoulder and neck meet, and his hands come up to cup your tits, pinching your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through you. He’s fucking up into you endlessly and you can’t even remember if you came already because he’s got you drowning in ecstasy, losing yourself in it.

And then his fingers are on your clit.

You can feel his knot, pressing against your core, so close, so close.

Inside your stomach, something pulls up tight, and you come so hard everything goes black.

You come to about half a minute later, cradled against Changbin’s chest, his knot safely within your cunt, satisfying you, and he’s hugging you to him, kissing every inch of your sweat coated skin that he can reach. He shifts against you when he senses you waking, nuzzling against your scent gland as he kisses a hickey on your neck - most likely from Minho.

‘Are you okay?’ Changbin asks. ‘Did I go too hard?’

‘No,’ you reply drowsily. ‘Was good. So good.’

Your hand meets his, and you smile a little as you twine your fingers together. The scent of roses and grapefruit fills your nose, and you close your eyes at the feel of Hyunjin nestling closer to you, sandwiching you between him and Changbin, your breathing slowing as you drift off.

You’re woken by a puff of air against your clit. Hyunjin chuckles when the muscles in your thigh jitter at the feel of it, looking up at you from where he sprawls between your legs, grinning like he wants to devour you. Whatever you’re lying on rocks to the side, and you bleat in alarm and narrowly catch yourself, glancing over your shoulder to find that your head was resting on Jeongin’s chest, who is now smirking at you, eyes glittering mischievously.

The feeling of two alphas looking like they might eat you does something to your cunt that has Hyunjin transfixed. He licks his lips and you get the distinct sense that he might accidentally pop a knot too soon if he isn’t careful.

‘You two look like you’re plotting something,’ you mumble, trying to ignore the attention your pussy is demanding.

‘Yeah,’ Jeongin confirms casually. ‘Hyunjin’s going to go down on you and I’m going to fuck your mouth.’

‘Oh,’ you say, and this time you can’t ignore the way you clench around nothing.

Hyunjin groans, and you feel the mattress dip a little as he grinds into it. He buries a finger into your fluttering heat, cursing under his breath, and your eyes widen as Jeongin props your head up with a pillow and straddles your chest, his flushed cock nudging your lips. Your tongue darts out, flicking against his head, and he adjusts himself so he’s kneeling over you.

Opening your mouth, you take him as far as you can, and almost like he’s rewarding you for it, Hyunjin’s lips close around your clit. Surprised, you yelp around Jeongin’s length, hips bucking into Hyunjin’s face of their own accord; in response, another finger is eased into your core and you suck in a sharp breath of air.

That’s the moment Jeongin chooses to thrust shallowly into your mouth. You gag and get embarrassingly close to coming - Hyunjin lifts his head, feeling your weeping pussy seize his fingers.

‘She liked that,’ he remarks.

You don’t even get to reply because there’s an alpha cock fucking itself down your throat, surrounding you with the scent of mint and lavender. You’re not sure when you moved your hands but now they’re curled under the backs of his thighs, your nails sinking into his skin as he uses your mouth, and he’s got your hair fisted in his fingers for better leverage - even through the haze of your heat you can see his knuckles are still swollen and cut up from the fight.

He must have been pretty wound up because you can feel him tensing under your palms, curses flowing from his lips as he wrenches himself out of your mouth and basically shoves Hyunjin out of the way. There’s a moment where you’re painfully empty, bereft of Hyunjin’s nimble fingers, and then Jeongin slams his cock inside you, rutting into you once, twice, before he comes, his knot swelling within you and filling you up.

‘So good for us, omega,’ Hyunjin coos, appearing at your side.

Cupping your chin, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him as he licks into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours. Jeongin pushes him to the side, grumbling and barging him with his shoulder so he can press his lips to your scent gland, sucking a love bite just below it, his teeth grazing over your skin. You giggle at the look on Hyunjin’s face, cute and pouty despite the fact that you can feel his cock, stiff and leaking precum all over your thigh.

While you wait for Jeongin’s knot to go down, the two of them take turns kissing you, Hyunjin sometimes sneaking kisses to Jeongin too. It’s like you’re in heaven: stuffed full and content, with two alphas paying their utmost attention to you.

Finally, Jeongin eases out, and you feel the hot spill of his come - and maybe some of Changbin’s too - ooze from your stretched out pussy. He scoops up as much of it as he can and pushes it right back in, licking his fingers after: your body is wracked by a shiver at the sight, cunt aching to be filled again.

‘Need another load?’ Hyunjin teases, seeing the hungry look in your eyes.

‘Get on with it already, alpha,’ you snark back.

Eagerly, Hyunjin slots himself between your legs, gliding his cock head through your folds a few times before he plunges in. It shuts you up, fast. Throwing his head back, he groans, just a little louder than the wet, sucking sounds your pussy makes as he begins to move; there’s come slopping out of you with each thrust, smearing over the tops of your thighs and his, and he fucks it right back into you until you’re keening, bucking into him.

‘Shit,’ he moans. ‘Keep on fucking doing that, sweet omega.’

Breathless, you obey, rolling your hips to meet his so fervently that your muscles begin to burn, but it’s the good kind, the type of sensation that comes before your legs lock up, trembling uncontrollably as pleasure hits you so hard you go limp.

Pinching and rubbing at your clit in a way that is glorious, Hyunjin dips his head, giving you another kiss that tastes like you, and suddenly, at the touch of his lips to yours, you’re coming, shaking so hard that you’re shaking him. He groans your name, hands tangling in your hair to hold your face to his, and he travels a little lower to mouth at the hollow of your throat.

‘Taking me so well,’ he rasps. ‘Fitting around me just right, omega.’

A little jolt of lightning shoots through you as he lurches a little further into your cunt, coming, and there’s already so much seed inside you that a little bit seeps out around his knot, fat drops slipping down your skin. Sighing contentedly, you stretch your arms above your head as Hyunjin rests his head on your chest. You can feel the dull pain of your heat receding, giving way to a hint of lucidity, and now that the adrenaline is leaving your system, you start to feel aches flaring up all over your body.

Lifting your head, you keep a hand on the back of Hyunjin’s head so he doesn’t slide off you as you search for the familiar scent of clean linen and cinnamon, craning your neck as you twist to check he’s not among the boys dozing on the mattress around you. Just before you call out his name, the door to the room opens, and he walks in, cheeks full with some food he must have raided from the keep’s storeroom.

Jisung sees your face and immediately strides over. ‘Feeling okay, omega?’

You nod. ‘I think it’s almost passed.’

A stab of guilt punches through you. Jisung’s waited his turn, and there’s a chance that if you fall asleep now, you’ll wake up and find your heat has broken. He must smell the worry on your scent, because he leans forward and tucks some of your tangled hair behind your ear.

‘It’s okay, jagi,’ he reassures. ‘This is about you. Rest now.’

You’re already dreaming by the time he finishes his sentence.

‘Are you sure?’ Jisung clarifies again, even though you’re certain he can still smell the lingering honey of your heat on your scent.

‘Yes, alpha,’ you huff, unable to hide the petulance in your voice.

He raises an eyebrow.

‘Please,’ you whine. ‘Need your knot, Ji, please, alpha.’

‘Okay, but you tell me if you’re too sensitive, alright?’

You nod, already bucking your hips which succeeds to do nothing but drag his cock head through your folds. You’d woken up surrounded by Jisung’s crisp linen and cinnamon scent, the low burning need for a knot clawing at your insides, subdued at least by the seven other knots you’ve taken but still insistent enough that you needed Jisung inside you.

A wretched cry leaves you as he seats his cock inside you - he pauses, throwing his head back, biting his lips to stifle a moan - and you feel him twitch from within your squeezing walls. You’re not surprised; he’s been stuck in a keep with his omega’s scent rubbed all over him, the mattress and his pack mates, driving him crazy.

‘Fucking hell, omega,’ he mumbles, nuzzling at your face before he kisses you. ‘Don’t know how long I’m gonna last.’

Jisung begins to move, slowly but deep, a little smile pulling at his lips as he looks you right in the eyes, lacing his fingers with yours where they rest on the pillows beneath your head. He’s gentle, aware that you’re sore, pressing feather light kisses to the hickeys decorating your skin - some of which you don’t even remember exactly who gave to you, your memories clouded by your heat - and slowing his pace if your face screws up or your fingers tighten too hard on his.

Wrapping your legs around his trimmed waist, you pull him closer, crossing your ankles at the small of his back. His hand trails down and begins to rub steadily at your clit, and you feel the stirrings of heaven beginning to rouse within you: your toes curl, and a drawn out whine escapes from your throat, urging him onwards.

Jisung’s fingers speed up on your clit. ‘Come for me, omega.’

You keen as shockwaves run through you, leaving you spent, out of breath, pussy raw. Fractionally, Jisung slows the pace he’s thrusting into you, whispering sweet nothings onto your lips like prayers - your fingers sweep through his soft hair, the rest of your body limp against the mattress as you gaze up at him, eyes glazed.

‘Alpha,’ you whimper - it’s all you have the energy for.

‘Shit, omega - ’

Jisung cums with a gasp, knot locking into place as he trembles above you, trying to control the way he rocks his hips , grinding himself impossibly deeper into you. A tear slips down your cheek and he licks it off, the tender look in his eyes leaving you all melty in his arms.

Your pussy flutters around him, constricting around his knot as he carefully rolls the two of you over for you to lie on his chest, legs curled up either side of him so you can soak up the feel of his skin against yours. His arms wrap around you, and another hand, calloused from hours working in the smithy, brushes over your back before lips press against your shoulder blade.

‘How’s she doing?’ Chan whispers.

‘Good,’ you hum, answering for Jisung and cracking your eyes open a millimetre. ‘Really good. Really tired, too.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m not surprised, sweetheart.’

Minho speaks up, saying something that makes Jisung’s wide chest vibrate beneath your ear with a quiet laugh, but you don’t really hear it at all - your brain feels like it’s made out of cotton, and your limbs feel light and airy, Jisung’s skin so soft it’s as if you’re floating on a cloud.

‘Love you, alpha,’ you murmur.

You don’t clarify, and they don’t ask, but they know you mean each and every one of them.

When you next rouse yourself, you’re fully lucid, and Changbin’s shouting at someone from inside the bathroom. Groaning, you rub your eyes, and a low, tired throb emanates from between your legs - solid proof that your alphas took care of you through your heat, like they always do. You remember it: most of it vividly, some of it in flashes.

Flopping your arms out, you’re met with unpleasantly cold sheets. A frown furrows your brow and you lift your head - now that you’re shaking off the last dregs of your heat and the long sleep that has left a small bit of drool on the pillow beneath your head, you can faintly hear your pack’s voices. From what it sounds, most of them are in the corridor or the great hall, and you can just about pick up other voices too: the omegas you rescued.

You can also hear Changbin, clear as day, muttering grumpily to himself. Snickering, you listen closer, catching something about Seungmin, that little shit and damn towel. You open your mouth, ready to call out to him -

‘Seungmin!’ He yells, so loud you jump. ‘I know you can hear me! Where’s my towel?’

With a groan, you heave yourself upright and pull on the first shirt available: immediately, Jisung’s scent wraps tight around you. Choking on a laugh that you fail to stifle, you shuffle to the edge of the bed and climb off, taking pity on Changbin, while - rolling his eyes so hard it looks like there’s someone behind them pulling them with strings - Seungmin bursts through the bedroom door.

Just in time to see your legs buckle.

He darts across the room and manages to break your fall as you crumple to the floor, muscles protesting. Unfortunately, you manage to take him down with you and he laughs, loud enough for Changbin to hear it and think he’s the one getting made fun of, but with a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes that you know is aimed at you.

‘You’re acting as if you didn’t contribute to this,’ you retort, attempting to pull yourself up.

There’s a steady burning in your thighs, and once you’re upright, you’re wobbling like a newborn calf. Seungmin snorts, knocking you backwards onto the bed and kissing you, fending off your hands as you attempt to punch him in the ribs. Eventually, he lets up, mostly because Changbin has started screeching threats from inside the bathroom that can be heard over your giggled protests.

He sorts out his mussed hair. ‘I don’t regret contributing whatsoever. In fact, I enjoyed it.’

‘You’re always so smug after knotting me, huh?’ You send him a rude gesture.

‘As if you didn’t - ’

‘Seungmin, I swear - ’

Both of you giggle, and Changbin splutters, hearing your laughter. Still chuckling, Seungmin scoops you up in his arms and retrieves a towel that’s been stowed behind one of the pillows, taking his time to open the bathroom door and hand it back to him. Seeing Changbin, his damp hair hanging over his eyes as he grumbles at the two of you, unable to fulfil his threats with Seungmin using you as a human shield, sets the two of you off again.

The sound of your laughter attracts your other alphas. They file into the room, and Chan smiles fondly as he sees you Seungmin’s arms. Jeongin walks over and nuzzles his face into your hair, kissing your earlobe and pausing there.

‘Legs out of commission after being fucked too good, huh?’

‘Jeongin,’ you hiss, slapping his arm. Seungmin has the audacity to high five him.

Chan attempts to hide a laugh. ‘I’m going to ignore that.’

‘Well, you better not ignore Seungmin stealing and hiding my towel,’ Changbin mutters.

Seungmin laughs again, and you get passed to Jeongin while he wards off Changbin, who is still clad in just a towel. Warmth fills you - it’s good to have your boys happy and playful after seeing them taken and hurt by Goemul. You’re whole again now that you’ve got them back.

Eventually, the two of them calm down, and Chan smiles at you in a way that makes your heart swell and overflow in your chest.

‘Ready to go home, omega?’

taglist: @0bticeo @hyunjinsjeans @sleepyleeji @milkslovehotel

fyi: goemul = monster in korean

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