#thoughkpopbemadness

Sometimes it still bewilders you, that a gentleman such as Min Yoongi would look at all the town and countryside, and choose you.

He tosses his coat over a spindly chair, his shoes loud against the wood floor. Your stockinged feet are quieter, as you enjoy the remnants of heat still in the wood from the earlier part of the day. It's luxurious to have such a floor; you're used to hard-packed dirt. You'd never enjoyed walking around before, but waiting for him in your stockings only serves to excite you.

How like him to gift you this small and cozy cottage. Benevolent, gracious, and so kind.

"I'm happy to see you, Milord," you greet, voice as soft as the rain patters on the other side of the windows. He tugs off his gloves, those keen eyes still on you, tracing the garments you wear.

"I'm late."

"You had prior engagements," you say, dismissing his statement. You turn toward the kettle sat on the stove, the steam coming out as fast as your heart beats. "It's frigid outside, shall I make us tea?"

"Yes." His voice is closer than a moment ago. You can feel his presence at your back as you pour the water into the prepared tea kettle. Your hands shake when you feel his hands encircle your waist."Were you waiting long?"

Hours.

"I ventured out as the sky turned grey. I arrived before the heavens opened up." You move away from his hold to set the tray on the table. He grumbles something before wrapping an arm around your waist the moment you are no longer holding the tea tray. You barely have time to catch your breath as he pulls you tight against his frame.

"Milord, you are soaking." He doesn't say anything, but holds you tighter, his hand sliding up from your stomach to your bosom. "My clothing will dampen as well." Your protest is nary a protest, not with the heat of his hand covering your breast. You think often of how your family would upbraid you if they knew of your intimacies with the man you love.

He pinches your nipple and you gasp.

"Hopefully not the only thing that dampens, 신봉자." The scrape of his teeth on the curve of your neck sends tingles along your spine. You can feel him, insistent and stiff at your derriere. He's not wrong because your body—attuned to his—reacts with lubrication.

Your man is devastating.

"Are you not hungry, Milord?"

"I ate at the gathering," he whispers into your skin, teeth still nipping. He's done an admirable job of undoing the laces of your blouse with only one hand. "I want something quite different to sate my appetite now." The looseness of your top gives him more access along your shoulder, which he takes greedily. Thank the maker that your everyday wear covers the skin that he so enjoys marking.

"Milord…" The mewling sound you make is common with him. He likes hearing you, hearing you as he ruins you.

"Sodden?" he murmurs, taking a nibble of your earlobe. As though every part of you obeys him, your nether regions flood at his word. You nod, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair. "Good. Pull." You tug. "Harder." You pull harder. "Harder!"

He grumbles and lifts the back of your skirt, unlacing the back of your pantaloons. He slaps one cheek. You jolt, causing you to pull his hair even more.

"You can do better than that," he mutters, rubbing where he's smacked before following the curve down to where you are wet. "Hmmm, good. I think you missed me."

"I do," you whisper, voice strained when his fingers slide in. It's tight and it always stings when he starts.

"Do…do you miss me when we are not together?"

You know you shouldn't ask. Master Yoongi is not known for sentimentality. He uses pretty words when he wants to, like how he used to speak to you when he caught you out doing the washing. His feelings are in his eyes, in how he looks at you, in how he touches you when he corners you in corridors, in how his hands grab you so powerfully, he leaves marks.

You love wearing his marks. Even though no one else can see them, each and every one shows how much he loves you, how much he owns you.

He is yours.

One day, you'll be able to wear his marks proudly. To all those spoiled rich ladies who like to look at him like he looks at you.

He slides his manhood in, stretching you impossibly. You breathe in deep and quick, glad that he's behind you as you grimace slightly. It hurts a touch. It won't after a minute or two, you know the rhythm by now.

"That's it. You always feel decadent, 신봉자," he says, voice breathy. It warms you, when you can hear it in his voice. He didn't say he missed you, but this is just as wonderful to hear. "Always warm and tight for my cock. Squeeze me just right." His hands are all over you; one squeezing your bosom, the other gliding along your hip to where your 'treasure' (as your mother liked to call it) is. He searches for that one spot that he made you aware of the first time he laid with you. He presses it exactly right, and you reach out to hold yourself up, gripping the back of the chair.

"Milord. You are too good to me."

"Squeezing my cock like your life depends on it. Does it, 신봉자? Does your life depend on my cock giving it to you so hard you can see stars?" His movements speed up, nearly knocking you into the chair and table. He pinches your nipple again, and your 'treasure' spot but you can't seem to find the release, so you clench his manhood to propel you toward that euphoria.

"Stay," you say as he starts to shudder against your back. "Stay in me."

He pays you no heed. "I'm about to…" he trails off, pulling out of you, and you feel the warmth of his spilled seed on the back of your legs and posterior. His breath is heavy as you hold yourself, waiting and hoping he will bring his fingers back to send you to the same place he went.

You turn after a few moments to see his trousers pulled up, the buttons half done. Your face heats as you grab a cloth to clean up before pulling up your drawers.

Master Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it from his forehead. You cannot help but stare. He's truly beautiful.

"You don't have to—" You struggle with the proper way to say it. "I could conceive."

He freezes in redoing his buttons. "Conceive?"

"We could have a baby." You move toward him, reaching to fix his collar. "I would love to bring your baby into the world, Milord."

He grabs you by the wrists. "Bold of you. To want a child. Out of wedlock? What would your family say?"

You are nervous, something is fluttering in your chest at his tone. It sounds…cruel. Mocking.

"We would marry, of course. I love you. You have my body, soul, and heart." You try to touch his face, to caress his beautiful skin, but his hold on your wrists only tightens. "You would not lie with me if you did not care for me."

He huffs, and clicks his tongue. "신봉자." He lets go and moves away. "I think you might have gotten the wrong idea."

You watch him move toward the door, one hand picking up his overcoat and suitcoat.

"You aren't leaving, Milord?"

He sighs deeply, as though you are a child. "I am not marrying you, 신봉자. I could not marry you even if I wanted to. I am most certainly not impregnating you to be dependent on me for the rest of my days."

He slips on one sleeve of his suit coat.

"Milord…you do not…you do not love me?"

He sighs again, the same way, but even more vexed. "No. I find you amusing, 신봉자. I find your body rapturous. I will find another tenant for this place. Do remove your things when this storm has passed."

"Milord, please." You run to him, your mind racing as you absorb his words. He cannot be telling you the truth. You know how he feels about you. Your body knows it. You wrap your arms around him. "Do not depart. You've had no tea and the storm still thunders on." You move to stand in front of him. "You go out again, you will be taken with illness."

He swallows, looking at you. His eyes seem so cold. "I do not believe that would be wise. You are concerningly delusional about what our relationship was. I think it best to end it now."

You can't let him go. He must stay with you. How to make him?

You press one hand to his chest. "Stay. If we must part, let us spend this last night together. You traveled so far to be with me. Please be with me." You slide your hand from his chest to his stomach to the front of his trousers. It pleases you to feel his stiffening against your hand. "You are not spent, Milord."

His gaze stays on you, cold and calculating. You smile with all the desire you have. Eventually, his gaze softens and his perfect lips turn up confidently.

"You make a strong argument, 신봉자." He bucks into your hand as his manhood grows. "You do understand the nature of you and I?"

You nod absently, squeezing him through the fabric before maneuvering him to the one covered chair near the hearth. He sits, hands finding your hips like they belong there.

They do.

You remove his suit coat, tossing it toward the chaise lounge. You rid him of his trousers and underthings, pulling them down with efficiency. You spit into your hand before stroking him to complete firmness. He's panting, hair sticking to his forehead from perspiration instead of excessive rainwater. You smooth it away before you lean down to kiss and lick his member.

"Oh darling girl," he pants out.

That's what he calls you when he's out of his mind in love with you. That's what you've been wanting to hear all night.

You toy with him, tasting and licking him like he's a delicacy for you only. You love feeling the tremble in his legs when you're doing it right. When he rambles vulgar words that would horrify those you sit next to in church, you pull off of him.

"What are you—" he lets out a moan when you discard your drawers and lift your skirts to slide onto him, impaling yourself. "You perfect wench."

You smile at him, pulling the laces on the front of your blouse that he'd started undoing earlier. He smirks, breath heavy as he thrusts up into you. You cry out, and he leans in to grab the lace string with his teeth, drawing it out from your top entirely.

You cup his face in your hands, taking the string from his teeth and replacing it with your mouth. He kisses you hungrily, biting and sucking on your tongue. You rock, and raise yourself along his manhood before sheathing it again.

You love his groans.

"Feel good, Milord?" you ask, knowing the answer as he increases his thrusts.

"Feels like heaven, like the best part of hell, the rapture of sin," he says, words staccato and broken. He drops his head to your chest, mouth open to your bosom, and with a long suck you break, your ecstasy erupting. He hoarsely whispers your name.

"Milord, my love," you say when you can find your breath. You lift his face from your breast. He's still moving in you.

"I'm so close." His eyes are closed and he doesn't see.

"Yes."

You watch as he seeks his end, tightening your legs around his thighs and hips when he tries to lift you off him.

"I love you," you murmur, encircling the lace from your blouse around his neck. Twice. The color looks beautiful against his skin. "Forever you are mine."

His eyes open when your legs grip him even more. "What are you—" You kiss his unspoken words as he releases his seed, inside you this time. Glorious.

You yank the two ends of the string firmly. You feel him spasm, his lips pressing yours stronger in the convulsion. You don't let up; your mouth on his, your hold of the lace, your grip on his hips.

Time stops in that kiss. It lasts a century before he slumps down, head falling to your shoulder. He doesn't move, his member still in you, his body entirely dependent on you.

You smooth the back of his hair, your heart full. You unwind the lace to see the mark that you have left on him. Like the marks he leaves on you.

He is yours forever. Part of him is now a part of you for all time.

신봉자 roughly means devotee. i wanted a pet name that also feels patronizing.

But Felix, soft and warm-hearted Felix, wasn't put off by your displays of aggression. He avoided your teeth and paw, and curled up beside you, giving you a lick of friendship.

You capitulated so easily.

Jisung was less cordial, growling until Felix had soothed you to whimpers. He was furious at Felix for being so reckless, but Felix, bless him, told him off in his Felix way.

So you were brought into the fold, a kid with no recollection of your life before the pack.

It's the only family you'd ever known.

The Bang family took you in when Felix and Jisung returned with you in tow. Chan and you were only a year apart, and they had the space. Mrs. Bang had always wanted a little girl, and a shifter. It was only a slight disappointment that you weren't a wolf.

Like nearly anyone in the pack, you were required to go to the dojo after school. Especially since Chan was there every day.

The Lee Family Dojo is a landmark in town. Apparently, it was started by Felix's great great, well, something. That building with its open spaces for training and practice combat, along with the few acres on the outskirts of town, were the Lee family legacy. They weren't the only shifters in the area, but they were the strongest and the largest pack.

Even if you were a regular human, seeing a bunch of men and women building muscle and learning taekwondo, boxing, and MMA would be intimidating enough to turn tail and run the other way.

In the beginning, you did whatever the Bangs asked of you, grateful to have a safe place to sleep, and food to eat. There was something nice about the repetition of weight lifting, and cardio exercise.

But when you had to start learning the techniques of taekwondo, you resisted. You were one of the few girls in the dojo (shifters had male babies overwhelmingly so) and the only non-wolf.

—Seven Years Old—

'Dirty yote.'

You didn't know what it meant when you heard it, but you knew it was an insult. You could see it in the reactions of those around you, in the tone of the kid who said it.

So, you did the only thing you could think of.

Punched them right in the nose.

It was so satisfying to see them cover their nose and howl in pain.

You were reprimanded, and moved into boxing lessons over taekwondo.

—Fourteen Years Old—

You're sparring with Jisung when he walks in. He can't be much older than the rest of you. He's broad, broader than Chan. He walks with purpose right up to Lee-nim, speaking loudly enough that you can hear the timbre of his voice, but not loud enough to make out the words.

Jisung hip-bumps you. "What?"

You nod and point to where the newcomer is listening to Lee-nim. The newcomer glances to where the two of you are, eyes wide (the first giveaway that he isn't as confident as his entrance made him appear).

"You think he's one of us?" Jisung asks you, close, nearly leaning against you. It surprises you, how lately Jisung—who you'd assumed at worst hated you; at best tolerated you—seems to always be there when you look around. Offering to spar with you, asking if he can carry your textbooks and walk with you to class, coming over to the Bangs to play video games with Chan, but ends up finding you outside in the hammock.

"I can't tell from here. But Lee-nim isn't turning him away," you reply, noticing how Jisung's arm is touching yours as you both lean against the ropes.

"Lee-nim doesn't look thrilled either."

"What are you two whispering about?" Chan rolls under the ropes and pops up next to Jisung. "Sweet nothings?"

"Shove off," you say, rolling your eyes, waiting for Jisung to also protest. When he doesn't say anything, you look over at him to see his cheeks are red red. You decide not to ask (boys are incomprehensible ninety-nine percent of the time). "We're talking about the boy who just came in."

Chan looks to where you're indicating.

"You think he shifts?" you ask because everyone here grew up knowing what they were (or what they could be—sometimes the first shift came later for some). You don't know when you had yours. Mrs. Bang thinks therapy could help you remember your early years, but you figure your brain knows better and keeps it blocked for a good reason.

"I think so," Jisung finally speaks again. "Something about him."

"Yeah," Chan agrees, voice contemplative. "Something about him."

You look over at your adoptive brother, the quiet of his voice (he's not quiet, especially at the dojo) piquing your interest. He's looking at the newcomer still. When Chan sees you looking at him, he turns to you and Jisung, his cheeks and neck a dark pink.

Even darker than when he's training and lifting.

What is going on with Jisung and Chan?

"Everyone!" Lee-nim calls out over the open room. "We have a new student. This is Seo Changbin. He just moved here." Lee-nim pats his back before leading him over to where Felix and Seungmin are doing their taekwondo moves (you can't even remember what they're called anymore). Felix lights up and greets the new guy, immediately swinging an arm around his shoulder to give him a tour.

"We should…keep sparring," Jisung says. "Might look weird if we're staring."

You shrug, turning back to the mat and tugging your gloves back on.

Jisung is going through one of his combinations when Felix calls you both over.

"You probably heard Uncle-nim, but this is Changbin." Felix beams, but that's not unusual. Changbin listens as Felix recites your and Jisung's name. He nods, smiling at both of you. You can see that his eyes are nervous despite the confident smile.

"Welcome aboard," Jisung says before returning to the middle of the mat. Felix is already leading Changbin to the others, but you catch his gaze on you for a second longer.

Something about him, for sure.

You're the first one to see him. Everyone is out for a beautiful spring day, and Changbin has been invited. There's always some sort of hunt or game or whatever when a bunch of the pack is out.

When Chan explains how it works to Changbin, you see him turn pale. No one else seems to notice that the new guy is extremely nervous. You wait and watch which way he disappears into the trees as the other (the hunters) count to a hundred to give the prey a head start.

You are always cast as prey. You aren't sure if it's because you're a girl or because you're a coyote.

When you're older, you'll argue about it.

You take off after Changbin, who is leaving a trail of nervous scent. You stop and strip as fast as you can, shifting before continuing.

You get turned around once when his scent drops off, but you smell the creek before hearing it. You jump across the creek and pick him up again.

He's hiding in the rotted out trunk of a fallen tree. You let out a small bark for him to know you're there. You shift, aware of your nakedness, but recognize that human you is probably less terrifying than coyote you.

"It's just me," you say softly. "I'm not hunting you." You crawl to the opening and squint until you can see in the dim light.

Pointed nose, sharp ears, and beautiful orange fur.

"You're a fox." You state the obvious. The fox, Changbin, trembles and flashes his teeth. "Look, it's okay, see?"

You shift as quickly as you can. Once you are coyote, Changbin-fox walks tentatively to where you stand, the afternoon light brightening his fur.

You tilt your head, hoping he understands that he needs to follow you. You sniff, smelling Chan and Felix (they often hunt together as Felix is fast and a good tracker, Chan is strong and able to disable someone). You yip and start running. You can sense Changbin following you, quick and right at your back legs. You backtrack, run through water and twist through shrubs to leave any fur that gets caught.

Changbin never falls behind.

Eventually, you slide under a low hanging rock, inching over so he can get in next to you. You both only have to wait until you hear the whistle that will signal that the game is over.

You wish you could talk to him. According to the guys, the wolves can sense each other's intentions when in that form. You can't. Because you're not a wolf.

And neither is Changbin.

You hold your breath when you smell the others. He does too. Minutes seem to pass. The two of you breathing as quietly as you can. His scent isn't as strong, either because you've already gotten use to it, or he's less nervous.

You can feel his eyes drift to you every so often. Waiting for a cue of some kind.

You heave a sigh of relief when the whistle blows. You scurry out, looking back to make sure he's good.

He's shifted.

He's still lying down so you don't really see anything you shouldn't, but you turn away your coyote head anyway. You've only known him a couple weeks after all.

"You won't…say anything? I'll tell them eventually, I didn't…" his voice is rough with disuse and worry.

You shake your coyote head and glance back to see him smile at you, a lift of one side of his lips.

You dash off to where you left your clothes so he can find his own.

Changbin's fox nature is met with…not disgust, though not jubilation. You never hear a derogatory remark against him, and he finds his place among the younger generation of shifters easy enough. You'd resent him for it, but there's something comforting about having him around. You're sure it has a lot to do with the fact that he's the only non-wolf around. It's nice to have the company.

—Eighteen Years Old—

High school's end is on the horizon, and pack rules (never written anywhere, just understood) is that the local university will suffice for anyone wanting to pursue higher knowledge. You apply, your grades are good enough to get you in and your tragic past gets you a solid scholarship. You're never officially adopted by the Bangs, a choice you don't question out loud. The difference between you and Chan is more than obvious in everything; from how the majority of your clothing is his hand-me-downs (minus the one or two dresses you buy with your minimum income from doing laundry at the dojo) to how they've never asked if you like chocolate cake, but since it's Chan's favorite that's what they get you for the day you choose for your birthday.

You can't fault Mr. and Mrs. Bang. You aren't theirs.

You belong to yourself.

"You belong to the pack, or the pack belongs to each other…" Jisung stumbles in his explanation to why your statement is wrong. Both of you are sitting on the reserve owned by the pack. The game of hunting ended awhile ago, the 'real' adults are inside, drinking and talking about the old days or whatever old people talk about, while the youngsters are outside, getting rid of all their excess energy. The tree you've chosen as your spot is large and gives the perfect amount of shade even as the sun sets.

"I'm not a Lee, or a Bang…or even a Han," you tease him, trying to divert his concern at your words.

"But you…I mean, your record is so good," he says tentatively. "I'm so happy we're from the same gym, so I don't have to fight you."

If there is anything you have, it's your boxing skills. You might have resisted early on, but it's one thing that you enjoy. The training and lifting, the repetition of footwork and combinations of jabs and punches. The actual fights with mouth guard in place, head gear on, and your gloves.

So satisfying to watch some guy from another gym or district hit the mat, or concede.

"You scared of me, Jisung?" you ask, grinning at him. He makes a face at you, leaning in.

"I think in general women scare me."

You chuckle and ruffle his hair before pressing your mouth to his. It's unformed, this thing between you and Jisung. Certainly not official and not something you display blatantly in front of the older generation of shifters.

But he makes you laugh, and he's cute. You like the idea that he might be a little scared of you.

He kisses you back, his hand finding your breast like a homing beacon. He really really likes your chest. He squeezes and you shiver, but pull back. You aren't exactly out in the open, here at your tree it's secluded, but it's not private.

He whines when you break the kiss, and you kiss him one more time because he is so cute.

"Tease," he mumbles, his hand dropping to your thigh.

"I am not letting you fuck me on pack property, Jisung."

"You name the place, baby. I'll be there."

You snort at his eagerness and lean back against the trunk of your tree. "Guys are so obsessed with sex."

"I have little else to be motivated about."

You laugh again and flick his forehead. "Melodramatic." He grins at the abuse, kissing your nose then your mouth. His tongue sneaks in between lips and you can't help but respond, hands sliding into his hair to pull him close.

There's a rustle of noise and you both break away, breathing heavy, lips kiss-swollen. You turn at the sound of laughter, to see Chan and Changbin stumbling out from some bushes. They stop at the sight of you and Jisung.

You take in the pink of their faces, the flushed skin, and the scent—their scents mixed. How Chan looks away, shy and Changbin meets your eyes.

Oh.

Your thing with Jisung might be frowned upon if found out by the rest of the pack, but this…these two would get a lot more than a mere scolding.

Continuing the lineage of shifters is one of the most important values (if not the most important) of packs. Any pack.

Especially this one.

You feel how still Jisung is next to you, the gravity of the situation revealing itself to him as well.

"We won't say anything."

You don't look away from Changbin. He nods at Jisung's words, but also at you. You feel like he's trying to tell you something, but you aren't sure what. Something to do with what connects you two.

The non-wolves.

"Of course you won't," Chan eventually replies to Jisung. He looks at you, his kind-of sister. "Uh…come on, Sungie." He grabs Jisung by the arm and drags him along toward the clearing where everyone else is. Jisung looks back at you before Chan throws him over his shoulder in a display of strength, which is something any shifter respects.

"You okay?" you ask softly once they're gone. Changbin hasn't moved. "Changbin?"

"Hm?"

You stand up, brushing off your jeans and shirt. "You okay?"

"Of course." He smiles that smile you recognize from his very first day at the dojo. Nervous eyes, brilliant grin.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Bin."

You wouldn't say that you and he were close. Not like you were with Chan, the consequences of basically being siblings. Or with Jisung, for obvious reasons. Or even Felix, who loved and sought everyone out.

Yet. There is kinship.

"I'm not pretending…" he argues, clearing his throat, looking toward where Chan had disappeared. "You know how…how beautiful he is."

You wrinkle your nose, but yes, Chan is appealing to members of the pack. Even to the human kids at your high school. He's at trade school, but would still come pick you up after school if he needed the car. All your classmates swooned.

"I don't need to tell you how…how not pleased a lot of people will be if you get caught."

He looks over at you now, the dreamy expression gone. "I know." He reaches out to rest his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it once. "I…thanks."

You smile at him. "Want to go do a quick run? You smell like him."

"Good idea."

—Twenty-Two Years Old—

You live at the dorms while at the university, but when you graduate, you want an apartment. Jisung mentions moving in together, but as much as you love Jisung, neither of you (as well as the pack) is ready for that level of commitment.

Changbin's roommate, someone he met at the dojo and befriended, moves out and he offers the empty room to you.

It's a perfect option for you. You can't afford your own place (no one is bankrolling you, unlike Chan), and if you had to choose anyone to cohabitate with, Changbin would be it. He's your friend, and won't be weird when you only eat specific things before a big boxing match.

Hell, he'll probably join you for plain unseasoned chicken breasts.

"Really?" Jisung pouts when you tell him about it later. "I wanted to—"

You kiss him quiet. "We both just got out of school, Sung. Let's work on being real adults for a bit before we take that step."

He pouts even more, but kisses you, hands on your hips.

"Soon."

"Soon," you agree, but even as he presses you up against his car to kiss you deeper, you wonder if someone can move in with a partner when that partner can't even bring himself to have you at his family's home for the holidays.

"I don't care."

"Yes, you do." You're doing your best to keep your voice even, calm, even reasonable. Jisung looks wrecked, but you know, you hate that you know how much he agrees with his family, with pack beliefs. "You want kids, Sung. I don't blame you for that."

"We don't know for sure that it wouldn't—"

"You want to take that risk?"

He plops down on the couch in the main room. You're grateful Bin isn't home to witness this. Not that he'd be dismissive. It's because of his understanding nature and compassion that you do not want him to witness this.

"You're breaking up with me," Jisung mumbles. You walk over to him, hunker down so you are roughly at his height while he sits there on the sofa. "If you say you're doing it for me, or something shit—"

"I think I'm doing it for the both of us," you admit. "We've only dated each other. The pack tolerates it, but your folks hate me."

"I don't care." He leans forward, cupping your face in his hands. "I love you."

"I love you. But it's not enough. I don't want you to end up hating me. Or me hating you." You let him kiss you, salty with his tears (with yours soon if you don't keep it together). "We aren't the same people we were when you kissed me the first time."

"You jerk," he mutters. "You know you kissed me first because I was terrified to try."

You smile against his lips, kissing him back softly. You smooth his wayward hair as you draw out of his hold.

"You would have gotten there eventually."

He snorts, but stares at you, eyes big and wet and sad. "Can we revisit this conversation in a couple years? You know, if we're single and still feeling this way?"

Do you give him hope? When you know almost without question that this is over?

"Sure. When I'm twenty-six and you're twenty-five, okay? No hard feelings if you're head over heels for someone."

He lurches forward to kiss you hard this time, bruising your lips. But you welcome it, the pain with the pleasure of his mouth. You'll miss the cuddles, the laughter, the feel of his skin on yours.

But you can't give him children. And he can't understand you. Not really. Even though he tries.

You'll miss him. You'll miss him even though you'll see him every day still.

When he draws back, you take a deep breath.

"I'll go," he says quietly. "I…I guess I'll see you."

He's gone for an hour, maybe more when Changbin comes home, sweaty and in his gym gear. Working at the dojo seems to fit him, but you wonder what he might have done had he been part of a different pack.

Would you be the boxer you were if you'd landed somewhere else? With another pack?

"Hey," he greets as though it's any other day.

You guess it is, for him.

"Hey."

He might look like a gym rat. He and Chan match in that way, both absurdly broad and beefy, they must have some sort of lovers' competition about how much they can lift.

But despite the appearance, Changbin's always been insightful, observant. The ability to be on the outside looking in.

And he can tell from your greeting that something isn't right.

"What's wrong?" He tosses his bag to the floor and comes round to sit on the arm of the sofa. You're still on the floor, leaning against the coffee table, staring into nothing.

"I broke up with Jisung."

He doesn't say anything, so you turn your head slightly to look at him.

"Did you fight?"

"No. I just…you know how, sometimes, you have to cut shit off before it goes past the point of no return?"

He slides to the ground, stretching his legs out so they run alongside yours. "Theoretically, maybe."

You think about him, and what he has with Chan. They have more obstacles than you and Jisung ever had. If you explain why you did what you did, you might be influencing Changbin in a way that hurts him and Chan.

And it might all be doomed, but that's not your business.

"It had to happen." You smiled at your roommate, even though you're sure it's barely passable as a smile. "Okay, Dinner? That's not plain and boring chicken?" You force yourself to your feet and step over his legs to head to the kitchen.

He catches you by the hand.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

"I know. And I appreciate that." You look down at him. "But it's my stuff."

"I can handle your stuff."

"Yeah, you're so big and strong," you tease, tugging your hand away and heading to the kitchen. "Ramyeon?"

"It'll make my face puffy."

"Diva."

He's up and grabbing his bag. "And a gorgeous one at that." He makes you laugh, a miracle at the moment. "Gonna take a shower then I'll help."

"Absolutely not. You can't even boil water properly."

"Can to," he shouts as he walks to the bathroom.

You don't shout back, even though you're right and he's wrong. You wipe your eyes before washing your hands to start dinner.

It's only heart break. You've survived worse, right?

—Twenty-Three Years Old—

Jisung dates a very pretty girl about six months after you end things. Someone he meets when his family vacations at the beach, six hours away. She's human, but they get engaged several months later, so she finds out about shifters soon enough.

He looks happy. You can't hate him for that.

Humans and shifters can have children; both humans and shifter children in the same family. That's the typical way of doing things. Same for two wolf shifters; children of either type.

But there's no record of two different animal shifters producing any offspring, of any kind.

You don't cry. Not even at his wedding.

"You didn't have to come," Changbin says, standing next to you at the reception. You know he'd rather be next to Chan, but in public, they are very careful.

It's got to be so hard. For both of them.

"I don't begrudge him, Bin. He's happy. She makes him happy."

"I could still punch him for you."

You chuckle before taking a sip of the champagne and grimacing. "I prefer to do my own punching."

He sighs heavily, sliding his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. The whole pack dressed up for this. Jisung is the first one of younger generation to get married.

You glance over at your roommate. He notices and looks back.

"What? Food on my face?"

"You look nice, Bin."

His face heats, ears tipping into a rosy pink. "Uh, thanks."

"I think I'm gonna go."

"I can come with?" he offers, taking your half-drunk glass and setting it and his on a small table. "We can go get a real drink? Drown our sorrows?"

"Bin," you say, shaking your head. "You have been eyeing Chan in that perfectly fitted suit all night. You gonna let it go to waste?"

He turns even more red. It's so cute and hilarious, considering how long he and Chan have been he and Chan.

He says your name. "You're my best friend."

"And you're mine." You didn't know it would happen, but living together seems to have bonded you and Changbin. Whether it's a late night movie and popcorn, or getting stuck at the apartment due to a freak snowstorm and the two of you practice your combinations at home.

It's nice. To have someone like him even closer.

You move to give him a hug, resting your chin on his shoulder. You have about an inch on him in height without heels and you love to rub it in, even when you hug him. He grumbles, but hugs you back.

"I'll see you when you get home. Don't get caught," you say before pulling back.

He makes a face at you. "I don't like you leaving like this."

If he keeps this up, you might cry. Pride be damned.

"I'm okay. Honestly, wearing heels is the worst and my feet hurt."

"Ugh, I bet. They look good." He grins at you. "You look good."

"I'm not that sad-looking, am I? That you're throwing compliments my way?" You move to punch his shoulder, but he moves it quickly.

"Your punches, even when you hold back hurt," he tells you. "And I'm not throwing compliments. I'm telling you the truth." He hooks his pinky with yours. "You look really pretty tonight."

Your face heats. "Thanks." You look over at the main dancing crowd (how often are you and Bin on the outskirts?) and see Chan walking in your direction. "Better go. Use protection."

"Fuck off," he mutters, and you laugh as you head toward to exit doors, passing your adoptive brother.

"Leaving?" Chan asks, taking you by the arm lightly to slow your escape. You move away to keep going, but turn to answer him.

"Yep. Have a good night, bro." You wink at him and he blushes because of course he does. You grin, and turn back around to get out of here.

You don't even look back to see if anyone notices you leaving.

—Twenty-Four Years Old—

The text comes at around one in the morning. It wakes you, and you know it has to be either Felix, Mr. or Mrs. Bang, or…Bin.

» come get me?

«sure, where are you?

»the bar near chans

You don't ask why Chan isn't bringing him home, why he isn't staying with Chan (who has his own place), or why he doesn't get a cab.

Something's up.

When you pull up in your twenty-year-old sedan, Changbin is leaning against a streetlight, staring into nothing.

You recognize that stare. You've worn it before.

You put the car into park and get out carefully. You aren't sure if he's drunk or…well, you don't know.

"Hey Bin."

He doesn't seem to hear you.

"폭스"

He looks at you then. "You came." His voice is rougher than normal.

"Of course I did. You need a hand to get in?"

"I'm good." He pushes himself off the pole and walks to where you stand next the open passenger door. He pauses in front of you. Even in the lack of light you can see that his eyes are red.

"Are you? Good?"

He lets out his breath and it's shaky. "I don't really have to tell you, do I?"

You open your arms and he falls into them. There's one jolt, a shudder that goes through him. Then it's wet on your shoulder.

He's crying.

You wrap your arms around him, leaning back on the car for support. You hold him as tightly as you can, your eyes filling.

"I'm so sorry."

When you get both of you back to the apartment, he's a little more subdued. He tells you the details in an almost monotone.

"His parents figured it out. Too many close calls, too many times seeing me coming from his place, or something." He and you are seated on his bed. You tried to get him to go ahead and sleep, he could talk about in the morning if he wanted. He had to be exhausted which wouldn't help anything (you are also exhausted, so there's that). But he's tucked under the sheets, dressed down in boxers and a t-shirt, while you are in what you'd thrown on when getting his text, minus your shoes, on top of the covers.

"You guys have been sneaking around for what? Six years?"

"Yeah. Inevitable. I don't what I thought. That he'd defy his folks, or the pack's narrow-minded bullshit about legacy and offspring." He thumps his head against the headboard. "I'm an idiot."

"No. You just love him."

He closes his eyes. "We never talked about it. Not really. Not like I assume a real relationship would be discussed. He'd talk about the future. And I was there. But I look back now and he never said I'd be with him…in that future." He shakes his head. "Stupid."

"Being with someone that long, it was more than only the physical. You aren't stupid for caring. For wanting more." You grab him by the chin and make him look at you. "Okay? You're a person. Just like everyone else."

"But I'm not, right? You and I…we're not like everyone else. We're totally fucked."

You can't help that your eyes fill too as you drop your hand. "Well, you're not wrong."

"Fuck, I'm sorry." He brings you in for another hug, almost pulling you on top of him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's why I broke up with Jisung. I know all this too," you say, moving to draw away, but he holds you firmly. "Bin…we need to get some sleep."

"Stay here? Please?"

Like you could ever say no.

—Twenty-Six Years Old—

You find yourself sitting next to Felix at Chan's wedding reception once dinner and speeches have given way to frivolity and dancing. He grins at you when you offer your second glass of ginger ale. He sips it and laughs.

"No champagne for you?"

"Absolutely not, it's revolting."

"It really is gross," he agrees as you sit down next to him. You both don't say anything for several minutes. Watching the dancing with amusement. Chan is laughing with Seungmin, Jisung, and Changbin.

It's been not even a year since the end of Chan and Changbin, and you assume that more of your pack knows it was going on, but the only person you spoke about it to was Jisung. And you and Jisung don't speak much these days.

He's still in your weight class, so you are often paired for practice bouts. But even that is rare. Jisung isn't spending time at the dojo like he was. Marriage has made him get a real job, spend time with his new family. There's even a little Han on the way.

Your skills on the mat keep you at the dojo pretty much any spare time you have outside of working. You are only at your apartment to sleep. And social get-togethers? This wedding is the first time you've seen Felix outside of training in months.

You sometimes don't even see Changbin at the apartment you two still share, just at the dojo.

It's not the greatest of schedules, but you savor the training, the matches, the joys of victory, and frustration of failure (which happens, though less so lately).

"It's weird, right?" you begin. "That our friends are getting married. I don't feel like I'm in that place at all."

Felix hums while he thinks. "We're in our twenties. It's probably not that weird." He glances over at you. You smile at the picture he makes. Longish blonde hair, slicked back for the formality of the event. When he's doing taekwondo, it's usually in a ponytail, or braided on the sides for matches. His tie is already loose, suit coat off and cuffs undone.

Elegant and casual all at the same time.

"I'll have to at some point," he says.

"Head of the Lee family, the dojo, and the pack?"

"That's the plan." He takes a deep breath, looking out across said pack. "Dad's been talking more and more about me taking over soon."

"But he's in such good health."

"Yeah, but he wants to enjoy time with Mom and his grandkids while he's still in good health." Felix has two sisters who aren't shifters, but have married shifters to stay in the pack. Those kids and others are currently running around the dance floor as "The Electric Slide" starts to play.

"I've never seen you interested in anyone."

He looks away from the crowd back to you. "Cause I haven't been. I don't really…I dunno. It's not a thing for me."

"Which might make it hard to find a spouse."

"Well…" he draws out the word. "I figure I need to find someone who I like well enough to live with and is willing to have my kids."

"To carry on that Lee name."

"Yes."

He still has his eyes on you, so you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Want to?"

He starts to laugh once his words sink in and you visible freeze in shock. If you'd been sipping the ginger ale, you would have spit it everywhere.

"I'm not that repulsive am I?"

"Felix…you aren't serious?"

He shrugs again. "You are one of the few in the pack that gets the rigor of my schedule, because you have one of your own. And—" He leans back in his chair. "You're you."

"But you don't…"

"No. Not like that." He reaches out and squeezes your hand. "You've let me hug you since the day we met. So I assume you don't find me disgusting."

"Not at all, just not—"

"I know."

Felix is the prettiest person you know. Easily the prettiest in the world. He's warm, kind, and you know he'll make a good leader in all the ways that defies what tradition says about leadership. Which is one of the reasons you've stayed in the pack since being at adult.

Being married to him would not be a hardship.

Except for one thing.

"I couldn't guarantee you kids. Less so shifter kids."

He nods. "I know. Which is the only reason I haven't mentioned it before now." He doesn't let go of your hand. "Do you know that I've researched it? Any mention of different animal shifters having offspring?" He laughs, but it's sad.

You can't help but stare at him.

"No mention?"

"None."

It doesn't surprise you, but it feels like a punch to your gut.

"In all the years of research, even from other packs and the Shifter Archive."

"There's a Shifter Archive?"

"Yep."

"Can anyone have access?"

"It's a process, but usually. You want?"

"Yes."

"I'll try and get that going for you." He leans close. "Thanks for not laughing at me."

"Felix…" What can you say? Sorry for your biology? "I'll probably never marry."

"You would have considered me?"

"I would have definitely considered."

His smile is effervescent. He kisses your cheek and pulls back before letting go of your hand.

"I am getting some kind of signal from Seungmin, so I better go help him out."

You see Seungmin in the arms of one of the older women, dancing to a slow song. He looks incredibly stressed.

"Duties of heir apparent."

"Never ends. Especially for that one." He winks at you and walks across the dance floor to his close friend.

You don't move from your spot, finishing your ginger ale and his, your brain spinning.

"Hey."

You look up to see Changbin, holding his hand out to you. There was no way he could have declined an invitation to this wedding, and you'd sat next to him during the ceremony. He'd held your hand in a vice grip, but one thing you admire about him is how he can keep so many of his emotions hidden.

Another thing you both have in common.

"Wanna dance?"

"Sure. But then can we go home?" you ask, standing up to take his hand. He leads you to an open spot among the couples. He holds you close, almost a hug.

"Gods, yes, let's go home."

When you get home from a match, you are surprised to find Changbin awake, and not even in pajamas.

He grins at you. "You won?" Then he sees the cut at your eyebrow, the stitches, and his grin drops. "That looks—" He hurries to you, hands gentle on your face to get a better look.

"Gross? Yeah, I know. I got a good look even with blood dripping in my eye." You drop your bag on the floor, toss your keys in the bowl with his. "You're…are those real trousers?"

He wants to shove you for that remark, but you must look rougher than normal because he doesn't. Tussling with Changbin is pretty much daily roommate life.

"Why do you have to ask it like that?" he says, moving back. "I have normal clothes."

"You have boxers, joggers….yep, that's all I see." You go to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

"I had a date."

You look over your shoulder. "Yeah? Well, you're home and not with said date, so I guess it didn't go that well."

"Not much to talk about."

"Who needs talking?"

"A date…not a hook-up, you indecent hussy."

You laugh before gulping down the libation. You set the glass in the sink before starting toward your bedroom.

"Who was he? What was he like?" you ask, half-closing the door so you can strip and grab you robe. You need a shower in the worst way.

You are opening the door, robe-donned when he answers while picking up your bag and making a face (it definitely smells).

"She isn't someone you know…human. And she was nice, but shallow."

You freeze in your journey to the one bathroom in your apartment. Changbin is cleaning up after you; moving the glass into the dishwasher, shutting the cabinet you left open.

He looks over at you when you don't respond. "What?"

"She?"

He rolls his eyes and tosses your bag of gear into your room before sid down on the sofa arm, still in proper trousers and a nice button-down. The buttons strain across his chest.

"She."

"You like women?" Does your face show how incredibly floored you are?

He lets out a breath that tousles his fringe. "Yes."

"Please don't act so casual about this. How would I have known?" You didn't. You had no clue. You only saw him with Chan, and had assumed that the nights he spent away from the apartment were with other men.

"I guess you wouldn't. Our lives are so man-dominated anyway." The dojo is probably eighty percent men, at any time. "But yeah. I like women."

"Huh." Your response does not encompass the shock that you feel. How your mind is running through every interaction you've seen of Changbin and someone else.

Every interaction you've had with him.

Shifter life means that you will see others naked. Clothes do not shift. So have you seen most of the pack without a stitch? Sure. You notice things, like you're sure they notice things about you.

But you try and not give it too much thought. You were sleeping with Jisung, so fantasizing about him didn't seem too concerning, or inappropriate.

And you could admire your pack's, your friends' physiques, right?

"Go take a shower," Changbin pulls you back into the present. "I can smell you from here."

"I still smell better than you," you shoot back, a weak retort, but you aren't at your best. You close the door to the bathroom, and take a moment or ten.

Changbin likes women. He is attracted to them.

This shouldn't affect you. Because he has never treated you differently.

So conclusion:

Changbin is not attracted to you.

You've been punched, actually punched a lot tonight. It's part of the job.

But the metaphorical punch to your chest in realizing that Changbin not being attracted to you, now that you know he can find women attractive in that way, is the most painful of the night.

"Fuck," you whisper, staring at your mangled reflection in the mirror over the sink.

Because if it hurts this much, it means only one thing.

You are attracted to Changbin.

Even more so than that.

You like Changbin.

The problem with having a best friend as a roommate, who you've realized you are very much into, is that it colors everything.

Every time he is gone late, you know he's with someone else. Which is good and fine and he's someone you love, so you want him happy. But it hurts. Every time you see him out of the shower in only a towel, you have to shut down your thoughts with the force of an impressive uppercut.

You have recently avoided running anywhere near where he is during the play-hunts that the pack still enjoys doing once and awhile. Like everything else, these hunts, and get-togethers are fewer than they were five years ago.

Adulting is the worst.

So, in between training, your matches, and your job (you make money from your matches, but it's not consistent or very much, so working is necessary), you try and make sense of the revelation that you want your best friend.

Not that you have anyone to talk it out with…because you want the person you would normally talk this out with.

Felix is the only one you think would hear you out, and not judge you. Probably give you good advice.

But he's rarely around anymore. He's basically taken over for his father, maybe not in full, but the transition from older generation to younger is in process.

"Hey," you stick your head in the dojo office where he sits, reading a stack of paper that looks about five dissertations long. "Oh boy."

He glances up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hi."

"Can I help?"

"No, sadly this is all me." But he stands, stretching his lithe frame to where he's definitely got several inches of height on you. "Please interrupt me."

"You sure?"

His smile is brighter than the sun that woke you this morning. "Absolutely, I have been keeping up with your ranking. And Chan's, of course. Looks like you might win district this year?"

"Maybe. There's still Yeonjun, who is stupidly fast."

"He is."

"When was your last match?"

"Three months ago." He lifts his hand to stop you from asking the obvious. "The doctors don't want me competing." He touches his neck. "A certain kind of hit, too hard, or not in the right place…really bad news."

"I'm sorry, Felix. I know how much you love it. And how good you are."

He shakes his head. "I would have had to stop sooner or later. Especially with all this mess." He gestures to the papers. "But you came in here for something else, I'm sure."

"It's actually about the Shifter Archive. If you remember, we talked about it at Chan's wedding?" It had been months and you'd definitely remembered, but life was busy and it often was not in your mind when you saw Felix. "I was wondering if you'd started that process for me?"

His smile dims to where it no longer graces his lips.

"It's okay if you haven't."

"It isn't that, 우승자." He actually looks incredibly not happy. "There are rules about who can and who cannot have access."

Rules. So many fucking rules.

"Let me guess. Only certain types of shifters."

"It's not about wolves, not really…" he hurriedly tries to reassure you. "It's more about place in pack. Leaders, maybe lieutenants. It's like security clearance." He reaches out to touch you, hand on your cheek. "I'm sorry."

"I suppose you can't change this when you're officially in charge."

"I can try." He presses his lips together in worry. "I really am sorry."

"It's okay." It's not. You were hoping for some information about coyote shifters, maybe your ancestors or family, maybe any information about being able to have children with someone who isn't just a plain human.

Maybe someone who's a fox.

You shake that right out of your head.

"I appreciate you looking into it, Lixie."

He nods, leaning in to press his forehead to yours. "Any time. You're my first kid, you know?"

It makes you smile. You're older than Felix, but since he found you all those years ago, he likes to think he's your guardian in some ways.

It's cute, if not true.

He draws back, and his insightful gaze takes you in. "Is something else bothering you? You seem…on edge."

You could say it. To Felix, who you trust. But before you get to decide whether you want to or not, one of the younger taekwondo students comes in for Felix. It's time for the class he teaches.

"Oh but—"

"I'm good. No worries," you tell him, getting out of the office and out of his hair. You breath a small sigh of relief.

You don't want to admit it out loud.

It makes it real if someone else knows.

"Home early," you say when he comes in. You have a rare evening alone in the apartment and you're reading a book, curled up on the couch with a cup of tea.

Heaven.

"It was not going well, so I cut it short," he replies. You don't even look to see him walking in, but when he plops next to you, you take in the shirt (unbuttoned to show some skin), the jeans (snug to show thighs), hair (tousled and wavy), and glasses.

You wonder if the date had been someone who wanted a more serious Changbin, hence the glasses.

You love those dark frames on him.

"Not well, how?"

"Just…" He props his legs up on the sofa, his socked feet now on your lap. You give him a glare, but he ignores it. "It feels like regular humans know so little . I guess I'm shocked by the fact that they're so sure there's nothing more out there." He sighs, laying back against the arm of the sofa. "This guy was particularly boring. I think he talked about the stock market half the time."

"Gross."

"Thought maybe I could, you know, have a quick fuck and be done with him, but I couldn't even want after listening to him talk."

You tense at the casual mention of sex, which isn't unheard of from Bin.

"Talking during sex isn't a given."

He chuckles. "But I like talking." He lifts his head to look at you. You have the book open, but you are not reading. Brain too busy taking his words and shoving them in the file that you try and put back in a drawer and slam shut. "You can't tell me Jisung was quiet."

Your face heats at his inference. "No. Definitely not."

He sits up more. "Anyway, waste of a good outfit."

"You do look nice, Bin."

He pokes your thigh with his foot. "I look great."

You roll your eyes and snort. "I don't why I ever compliment you. You hardly need the validation."

"Well, my date wasn't forthcoming about how I looked…outfit wise. He did say a few things about my arms."

You can't help that your eyes go right to them. His arms are impressive. They look like they could lift anything, anyone.

Slam that door shut again.

"I'm sorry it didn't go well. In either case."

"Either case?"

You stare blankly at your book. "Uh, relationship beginning or hookup."

"Oh. Yeah." He swings his legs away, feet on the floor before scooting closer to you. "This would be a lot more fun if you were also out there, dealing with idiots on dates. We could commiserate."

"Like I have time."

He points to your book. "You have time. If you wanted. I don't think you've been out since Jisung, and that's been…like three years?"

"Four."

You can feel his gaze on you, but you're strong. You can stare at the pages in front of you for forever.

"Aren't you interested? At all?"

"In what? Relationship or sex?"

"Either."

You close your book, intent on removing yourself from this conversation as soon as possible. You can smell him right now, how he uses a mild cologne to mix with his natural scent. If you had to describe it, you'd call it spicy floral, which is a good thing you never say that aloud because it sounds stupid.

"Of course I am." You start to get up, but he grabs you by the wrist and keeps you there. "What, Bin?"

"You've been weird lately."

"I doubt it." Has he noticed?

"I know you. You've been jumpy. And it's not work, it's not boxing." He purses his lips, thinking. "It's been since you found out I'm bi."

"Bin, I would never—"

"And you're not an asshole or a bigot or anything like that, so I know it's not that." His thumb brushes over the thin skin on the inside of your wrist. You don't think it's meant to be anything but platonic affection.

It's you, your body and brain, that can't tell the difference. That hopes for something else.

"What's going on?" He lets go of your wrist, but doesn't move, sitting next to you, snug. His arm against yours, thighs flush. There's nothing inappropriate about it. Shifters tend to be more affectionate than not. Changbin especially.

It's you. You are the problem.

"I'm worried about you. I thought maybe breaking up with Jisung would close you off, but you seemed okay. Sad, but okay. Four years is a long time without someone."

"I'm perfectly fine on my own. You don't need to worry."

He chuckles. "Yeah, cause that works." He lays his head on your shoulder before threading his fingers with yours. "Either something is going on with you and you don't want to tell me, or you don't know what's wrong. The first one hurts, the second one really concerns me."

No one would think that Changbin was smart. It's the gym rat look he wears so well. But he is. He pays attention.

You hate the idea of hurting him.

"I…I'm trying not to hurt you."

He lifts his head and you can feel his eyes on you. You're staring at your clasped hands, how his fingers are so different than yours.

"How so?"

You close your eyes so you can't be tempted to see his expression.

He says your name softly. "You can tell me anything. We're a pair, remember?"

A pair of non-wolves.

"When you said you liked women too, it bothered me. I couldn't figure out why. Why would it? Unless…" You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut even tighter. "Unless I was bothered that you did like women, but not me."

He lets out a long breath, you feel it and hear it.

"And that's not on you. I didn't…" Are you going to cry? Are you so unable to be honest without tears? "I'll get over it. I will. I just need to work it out. You don't have to do anything. It's on me. You're too important for me to let something like attraction and lust and whatever this is make you uncomfortable."

He doesn't say anything for a long while. Nor does he move from your side. You eventually open your eyes and look over at him, at his profile.

"If you want me to find another place to crash for awhile, I'd understand."

He turns to you, lifting up his other hand to trace along your jaw line. It's gentle, lingering. It makes your heart jump.

"Bin?"

"Shut up," he murmurs, holding you in place when he kisses you. You can't move, you're afraid to, afraid that you've taken daydreaming about your best friend and made it real. "Kiss me back, idiot."

You do, you taste his soft lips, feel his slick tongue that makes you tense in ways that you haven't in a long while. You soon find yourself straddling his hips while he's flat on his back, you on top. His hands are under your t-shirt, tripping over your sorry excuse for a bra before sliding under your bra to touch your breast. His mouth is no longer on yours, but at your neck while your hands are attempting to undo every button on that shirt of his. When you finally do, there is something that relaxes in you to touch and stroke the skin that you've bared.

Changbin sits up, forcing you into the same position, before he whips off your t-shirt and then half a second later, your bra.

"You're a boob guy?"

He grins up at you, chin on your sternum, eyes heavy and bright all at once. "Truth? I like it all. I like bodies and the souls they shelter." He doesn't wait for you to respond, but presses his mouth to your breast and sucks.

It's been years, he had the right of it. Years since you've been touched by someone else. Your body goes through a lot, it's harder than most female bodies; muscle is necessary for what you do. You know that your body doesn't necessary appeal to a portion of men, due to it not being soft and curvy.

He doesn't seem to be in that portion of men. Not with how his hands skim along your shape, how the linger at the top of your yoga pants before slipping underneath to knead your ass.

What he's doing to you is overwhelming, even though he hasn't even touched you properly. You might come from this. You're clenching, still dressed from your waist down, but he bucks up when you tug on his hair when he sucks particularly hard on your nipple, and you do.

You orgasm.

He draws back, watching you as you tremble in his arms. "You…did you just come?"

You nod, body languid and breath short. "Please don't make fun of me."

"I would never," he says, kissing your lips lightly. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen." He smiles widely. "Let's do it again."

Your laugh at his enthusiasm is weak, but authentic. His hands grip your ass before he eases you both off the couch.

You weren't wrong about his arms. He can lift you.

"Yours or mine?" he ask before kissing you again, as though he didn't just ask you a question that required an answer.

"Yours, your bed is bigger."

You love his confident smirk.

He tosses you on the bed before ripping off your pants. He does the same with his trousers. He crawls on o the bed so he hovers over you. You're still recovering from your first other-assisted orgasm in years.

"I'm clean, by the way," he says. It's unnecessary, you know he gets tested after being with someone.

"Me too."

"Surprise surprise," he teases before settling between your legs. He smooths your hair out of your face, kissing your brow, your nose, your cheek until you're giggling.

"What are you doing?"

"Enjoying you," he replies before covering your mouth with his. You let your hands wander, along his back, up and down those arms and shoulders, returning to his back and tracing all the way down to his underwear. You might have thought a lot about Changbin's arms, but you also thought a good bit about his ass. You seize a good handful and he jerks, lips leaving yours.

"Oh really?" he says. You shrug, but your hands stay where you want them, molding to the shape of his posterior. "Had no idea."

"Yours is really really sexy, Bin."

He groans like he can't help it before kissing your lips, your chin, your collarbone, chest, and stomach before pausing at your underwear. Which means you don't have your hands on his ass anymore, which is deeply disappointing. He looks up at you.

"Can I?"

"Can you?" you question, brain dazed from his hands, mouth, him. He rolls his eyes before kissing you right over where you ache the most. The fabric is thin and doesn't block the heat of his mouth, nor the wet.

You keen, hips lifting even as he holds you down.

"Yes, yes, please."

Your underwear is gone in a flash, and replaced with his mouth. You are more than aware that the walls of your apartment are not thick, hearing enough from neighbors when voices go above a certain decibel.

That knowledge does little to thwart your gasp and cry when Changbin licks before attaching his lips around your clit. It's so much, and takes so little for you to orgasm again.

So little that when you can hear and breathe again, he's laughing.

You grab a pillow and hurl it at him, which he bats away with ease. He's still laughing when he kisses you again, while you poorly rid him of his boxer-briefs. He laces his hands with yours, pressing you back against the mattress, clasped hands sunk deep in his comforter. He stares at you for more seconds that you are comfortable with, naked as you are.

"Let me grab a condom."

"We're both clean, and it's not like…" It's not like you can conceive together. You stop talking, eyes wide, but he doesn't comment, doesn't dwell with you in that fact of life.

"You sure?"

He brings you out of your thoughts and you nod, needily. "Please, Bin. Please fill me up?"

"Gods, you're gonna kill me." He strokes himself, but you take over, eager to touch him. He groans.

"Morbid."

Even as he gets harder, he tips your chin up so your eyes meet. "You're not seeing what I'm seeing, beautiful." He covers your hand with his, and eases his dick into you. Your eyes shut.

"Full. I feel so full."

He curses before pulling out and thrusting back in. You tether yourself, hands on his arms, his glorious arms. He might say he likes to talk, but neither of you can muster more than gasps, groans, and whines. He makes sure you come for a third time, fingers playing your clit like he knows it perfectly already before he lets himself go.

"Too heavy?" he asks, once his panting and your panting is manageable. He's on top of you, still in you.

"No," you whisper, pushing his sweaty fringe out of his eyes as he lifts his head to see you. "I'm good. You're good."

"I bet you are. I could probably give you another orgasm, but I don't want to set the bar too high."

You slap whatever naked skin of his you can reach and he yelps before giggling and rolling over so he's lying next to you.

"I think…" he says after a few seconds. "We should sleep in your bed. My bed can be the sex bed. Yours can be for sleeping."

"You just don't want to do the laundry."

He rolls to his side, head propped on his hand, looking fondly at you. "You know me so well." He gently kisses you. "Wanna sleep with me?"

It's even more intimate, to sleep next to each other. It takes you aback that he asks. That he's all smiley and not weird about the fact you two just had sex.

"Yes."

As he gets off the bed, he grabs your hand and pulls you up as well. "Shower, then sleep."

When you fall asleep, curled up against him (of course he wanted to be the big spoon), you realize that you don't know what this means for you both. He had hoped for a quick fuck when going out tonight, which you guess you provided.

You admitted how you felt, but he never admitted how he felt.

You can ask in the morning. If you're brave enough.

You're not brave. For a few months you are not brave, in fact. At first you refrain from pursuing the topic in case it's only a one time thing.

It's not.

It happens again the next night. Then a few nights after that. Then three nights in a row, when you have a break in your match schedule.

It happens once at the dojo, in the women's showers after hours.

It's months, nearly six months of fucking (can you even call it that, when sometimes it's so sleepy and soft and gentle and warm?) before either one of you talk properly about it.

And of course it's Felix who notices.

You're on the bench, lifting with your trainer as your spotter.

"I got it," Felix dismisses him and stands over you, looking down with an expression that you can only describe as mischievous.

"What was that about?" You ask once you set the bar and weights on the rack. "You need me?" Maybe he got you access, finally to the Shifter Archive.

"Wanted to talk to you for a second."

You look around, though no one is near, and certainly not paying attention to the two of you. Too noisy to hear much, especially with the moves being called from the taekwondo class across the gym. You sit up and grab your towel to dab the sweat from your forehead before it falls and stings your eyes.

"Okay?"

"So, we have security cameras in pretty much all areas of the dojo. Except like the locker rooms, showers, toilets."

"That's good. That'd be a lawsuit."

He's beaming and it kind of worries you.

"Oh of course. But we can see who goes in and out of the locker rooms."

Your heart stops.

"No one really looks at the footage or anything unless we get a break in or there's something stolen, or other concern. We don't even save it. It's gone after a month."

Felix sits next to you, unbothered by your sweaty, sticky self.

"Want to take a wild guess who went into the women's locker room after you did?"

You close your eyes. "Lix—"

"And came out, looking oh so flushed and satisfied?" He's laughing. "One of our very impressive personal trainers. Your roommate."

You open your eyes and turn to him. "It's not—"

"I'm not stupid, 우승자. I haven't had quite the same experience in either locker room, but I do know when—"

"It's just fucking."

He sobers. "It is?"

"I think so. We've…" You cannot believe you're about to talk about this while sitting on the weight bench, your legs sticking to the fake leather. "We've never talked about it."

"I think it's great."

"You do?"

"You two have always fit. Like your own little club."

You don't remind him that it's because you aren't wolves. He knows that. Everyone knows that.

"I think you're good for each other."

You cover your face with the towel. "I like him so much."

"Yeah, I figured."

You snap his arm with the towel and he yelps, but laughs.

"Tell him."

"Like that isn't terrifying."

Felix cups your face in his hands, bonking your foreheads together, light enough that it doesn't hurt.

"You let yourself get punched on purpose. You're not a coward."

"The point is not to get punched, Lee Felix."

He smiles warmly at you, still holding your face. "Tell him. You'll feel a lot better once you're honest. Also, please stop fucking in my dojo." He pats your cheeks before getting up and walking away.

You have more sets and weights to do, but you can't after that so you change and go home.

It's early enough that even Changbin isn't home, so you spend a couple hours catching up on some of the accounts you run numbers for.

When you hear the door unlock, that's when your heart starts thumping hard.

"Hey, I thought you doing the sauna and stuff after your regimen tonight."

"Change of plans."

You don't turn, finishing the last line of input as he comes round and sits next to you on the sofa.

"You don't change plans."

"I do."

He raises an eyebrow, which is devastatingly attractive.

"Sometimes."

He leans over to kiss you before moving off the couch. "Hungry? We could order something. Or are you restricted this week?"

"I…I could eat something else."

"Awesome, I'll order jjajangmyeon and sweet and sour pork." He taps away on his phone while you save everything on your laptop before closing it.

You can do it.

"My plans changed because Felix came and talked to me."

"Oh yeah?" He sets his phone done. "Twenty minutes on the food. What did Lix want?"

"To tell me that he recently was looking through the security camera feed and—" Why is it so hard to admit? "And saw you walk in after me into the women's locker room."

You look at him through your peripheral.

He smirks. "Did he?"

"Yep."

"Whoops." He ruffles his hair. "What else did he say?"

"Not to fuck in his dojo anymore."

He laughs now, throws his head back and chuckles. "His dojo. Man, he really is the big guy now." He waits and when you don't say anymore, he pokes your cheek. "What?"

"He thinks we're good together."

"He does?"

You can't look properly at him. You keep staring at your hands, how they're rough from lifting, calloused despite taking care of them as best you can. "That we fit."

"He's not wrong."

Now you look at him. Despite his stretched out position, much like a pampered cat, his eyes hold those nerves you've seen throughout your teen years, growing up next to him.

"He isn't?"

He straightens, crossing his legs to sit upright, facing you. "You don't think so?"

You stand up, needing a few moments to organize your thoughts. "When we started all this…i told you how I felt."

He doesn't move. "Something about attraction and lust."

Was that all you'd said?

"You never said anything about how you felt. About me." You close and open your fists, trying to keep the fidgetiness there and not anywhere else.

He stands now, sliding off the couch and onto his feet, hands tucked into his pockets. "You don't think being with you, like we've been, isn't me telling you how I feel?"

"I don't know, Bin."

He scoffs and it pisses you off.

"You're only the second guy I've been with and it's different, so I'm sorry that I can't be sure, when I know how much you like sex."

"You like sex too." He throws it like an accusation, louder than a second ago.

"I like sex with you. I don't want to have sex with anyone else!"

"Me fucking neither!"

Oh.

"Really?"

That timid question takes the wind out of his angry sails. You see him deflate.

"You didn't think I was sleeping with anyone else, did you?" The hurt creeps into his voice.

"No. But mostly because of frequency. We were having a lot of sex there for several months."

His grin is so arrogant you want to wrestle him. But you have a good idea where that will end up.

"When would you had time for someone else?"

"I would have told you if I wanted someone else. Anyone else." His stare is defiant, chin up, mouth a straight line.

"Okay."

The living room is quiet for a few seconds. "So what are we saying?"

"I love you." You say it. You have to. You cannot stand the uncertainty any longer. "Not only as my best friend, my roommate, and the one person who gets it in this fucked up world we live in. I'm in love with you."

He doesn't say anything for what you're sure is several hours. He looks gobsmacked, honestly.

"I thought you might still be hung up on Jisung," he says softly, finally. "That maybe I was convenient."

He looks small like this. His presence, aura, whatever, is big when he's feeling himself, when he's happy, when he's settled.

But when he's unsure, nervous, that's when you see the fox more in him. A scared, ready-to-run fox.

You want to cross to him, hold his face in your hands and kiss him till he's back to knowing how wonderful he is.

But you can't seem to move.

"No. Not even close." You take a deep breath. "I wondered the same about you. And Chan."

His expression changes. "Chan?"

"First love."

"Both of our first loves that couldn't, wouldn't be with us, in public." He takes a step toward you. "This isn't like that."

"We aren't exactly public."

"We can be. I don't care." He reaches out for your hand. "I love you. I have for a lot longer than I realized."

Your face is burning. "I—"

He's holding both your hands now, face inches away, eyes sparkling and lips turned up. "Be with me? Not just in my bed, though let's keep doing that."

You roll your eyes, huffing a laugh.

"But be mine?"

You don't cry. You don't. Not often, and not in front of anyone. But your eyes well up. You bring your hands together, still clinging to his, and lay them over your heart.

"Yes. Please be my family."

He kisses you, letting go of your hands to pull you into a tight hug. The kiss feels more reverent than salacious and you melt into him.

"Bed?"

You do wrestle him after that, and it ends up exactly like you thought: in his bed, in his arms, entwined.

—Twenty-Seven Years Old—

You and Changbin are no longer sneaking around, but as the two non-wolves, the looks you get, the comments they think you can't hear, are not validating.

You think the majority of the pack is pleased that you chose each other and not one of the viable wolves.

They can go fuck themselves.

You don't miss the look of betrayal in Jisung's eyes when he first sees you and Changbin together at the dojo. Changbin kisses you before going to meet with his first personal training session. The kiss is hardly inappropriate, but it speaks of a relationship beyond friendship and living together.

Jisung is by the free weights as you move to the punching bags. He's staring at you, glowering. Since the break up and his marriage, you and he have talked a little, and it's never been anything but amicable.

His expression is not amicable.

You shoot a look at Jisung that you hope he understands. The man does not get to be offended this many years after breaking up, getting married, and having two kids.

And then you put it out of your mind. Because you really don't care what Jisung thinks anymore.

Marriage seems unnecessary when you've been living together for five years, but it's something held sacred in pack life. And you want to take his name. To have a name that you choose.

It's old fashioned, but it's a custom that suits you.

The wedding isn't on pack property, nor is it an event for the pack. It's at the local courthouse and only Felix and Seungmin attend.

Seungmin and Changbin are close, as Changbin handles Seungmin's training outside of his taekwondo. You like Seungmin, though you don't run into each other much, your sports never colliding or overlapping.

Felix is there as pack leader, but for you, too. You have to dissuade him that he can't 'give you away' like a bride's father would. But he stands next to you, and signs the marriage certificate before kissing you then Changbin in congratulations.

You and Changbin move out of the apartment, finding a small house in walking distance of the dojo. It's three bedrooms, one for the king-sized bed you purchase, one becomes an office for you, and the third is a workout room for him (and you when you need it).

Neither of you say anything about whether the office or home gym could be turned into a nursery.

—Twenty-Nine Years Old—

You're not sure how you ended up here.

Both your match and Chan's (you don't box with Chan, as you are in separate weight classes) are over, and the trainers and the rest of the entourage are back at the hotel, but here you are in a strip club because Chan was hungry and hates eating by himself, and according to the receptionist, this place has the best chicken wings.

But you are now in a private room, with very good chicken wings, soju, and three scantily clad men.

"I'm married."

The one next to you, long dark hair, the prettiest face (prettier than Felix? it's a different pretty, but still potent) is lounging, his head on your shoulder.

"We get that a lot in here."

That is deeply dissatisfying about people, truly.

"He is too," you say, jerking your thumb to where your adoptive brother is with another stripper; this one with sharp, flawless features and silver hair. The stripper is on his lap, straddling him, mouth attached to Chan's neck. "With your…friend over there."

"Hmmm, your husband?"

You make a face. "Ew, no. He's basically my brother." You pull away so his head nearly falls off your shoulder, but he moves easily with you. "Look, whatever your name is—"

"Real name is Hyunjin, pretty boxer."

"You know us?"

"Of course we do." The third comes back in with a bottle of makgeolli that you didn't order. He sits at the table a foot in front of where you sit. The couches are red and velour-like, bordering the entire room. "He's the reigning champion in his division. You're second in the country."

"I am not, uh…"

"Jeongin," he tells you, eyes like flint with smoky eye better than you've ever gotten even on your best makeup day. The music is loud, somewhat covering the noises from that side of the room (you don't want to see, you don't want to hear, but you hesitate in leaving Chan by himself as he is heavily under the influence of alcohol).

"I don't know my national ranking at the moment, but it's not second."

"You are second in the country." He pours a small glass of the makgeolli before offering it to you. You shake your head, so he hands it to your neighbor, Hyunjin, who sips it slowly, letting a drop catch his bottom lip. Hyunjin smirks when he sees you notice. He sits up and leans close, face even closer.

"Second in the country. Pack leader. What an accomplished coyote we have here tonight."

You jerk back at his words. They're both smiling at you, and though you've only had one drink, you feel dazed. How do they know? That isn't something you can see.

"I'm not a pack leader, either."

"Pretty coyote," Hyunjin says, tracing a finger down your cheek. "Your husband doesn't have to know, sweet. You've had a rough day."

Jeongin nods, his hands finding your knees, starting to push them apart.

"He doesn't have to know, because there is nothing to know." You stand up, cursing Chan in your head. "No thank you." You grab several bills out of your clutch and toss them on the table with the cooling chicken wings. "Please make sure he gets back to his hotel before seven am." You make your way through the maze of their limbs, the tables, the food and drink to the door. As you open it, you look back at Chan who isn't paying any attention to you or anything else but the man on his lap.

"Chan!"

He must hear you, because he waves his hand at you, his mouth attached to someone who is not his wife, dismissing you.

"It's your fucking life," you bite out, probably not loud above seductive bass line pumping in through the speakers. There is a touch on your shoulder and you grab the hand, twisting the arm before you can think it through.

"Careful, sweet," Hyunjin says from the sofa.

You release Jeongin, who isn't smiling, but wears a expression that makes your heart cold.

"Might be worth listening to us," Hyunjin speaks in sing-song, a lyrical quality to his voice that makes you reconsider staying.

Jeongin, still with that expression, rests his hands at your neck, light but firm. You find yourself unable to move.

"Second in country. Pack leader. Putting all those wolves to shame." With that statement, he lets go, turning and sitting down next to Hyunjin before helping himself to the makgeolli. Hyunjin's eyes are on you.

"Stay or go, sweet coyote. Make a decision."

You swing open the door and hurry through it. It's a mile walk and you should find a cab, but you want the fresh air to purge the haze from the private room, food, and drink. You don't feel remotely like yourself until you get back to the hotel.

When you walk into the lobby, your phone pings with a message. It's from your trainer.

»Look up the national rankings! Kim Sunwoo caught doping, he's out and you're behind Choi Yeonjun. CONGRATULATIONS!

You search the official website to see that yes, everything your trainer told you is true.

But what gives you chills, is that the news was only released in the last five minutes.

They called you 'second in country' and 'pack leader' over a half hour ago.

random notes:

폭스 means fox.

우승자 means winner, champion.

this act ends where the actual play of Macbeth begins.

also, i can share a cast list, as in who is who in the play if anyone is interested, i wasn't sure if that was spoiling or not.

act ii

© yoongihan 2026. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans. 

title: For I Have Sworn Thee Fair

author: @yoongihan

pairing: gentleman yoongi x peasant reader

genre: early established relationship, unhealthy relationship, angst,

summary: you adore him beyond measure of reason. he is your everything and you are his. together. forever.

content warnings: smut, toxic relationship dynamics, neither character is completely sane, mild violence.

word count: tbd

shakespeare inspiration: "Sonnet 147"

find a seat take in the show

title: The Winter’s Tale

author: @ladyartemesia

pairing: Alpha Bodyguard Seungcheol x FemOmega Princess

genre: Fantasy, Enemies-to-Lovers, Brother’s Best Friend, Mystery

summary: Alphas Rule. Omegas Prosper. Betas Serve the Crown.

It is an old saying and an even deeper truth. Seungcheol, the Prince’s loyal bodyguard, was taken from an orphanage as a child and raised to be a weapon of the throne—a beta—like all those of common birth.

However, when a plot threatens the kingdom’s precious omega princess (and Seungcheol’s lifelong nemesis), the reluctant bodyguard is reassigned to protect her instead and chaos ensues immediately.

Because Seungcheol is not common. And he is definitely not a beta…

content Warnings: Hierarchical society with some norms that are reminiscent of the Shakespearean Era, knotting, marking, claiming, mating, adult content, physical violence, war, betrayal, etc.

word count: tbd

shakespeare inspiration: The Winter's Tale

find a seat take in the show

title: foxglove

author: @sailorsoons

pairing: fae prince!Junhui x human!reader

genre: fantasy, faerie, strangers to lovers summary: prince Junhui plays one trick too many on the wrong faerie and ends up mortal for a single midsummer's evening. He intends to make a game of it, but when he meets you with your crown of foxglove, he suddenly understands why faerie princes aren't allowed to love mortal girls. Good thing he is particularly good at breaking rules.

warnings: hints of classism, Junhui is a bit of a menace, a hint of angst but not a ton, very much love at first sight, a little bit of leaning into the idea of soulmates.

word count: tbd

shakespeare inspiration: A Midsummer Night's Dream

find a seat take in the show

title: rebel without a clue

author: @100vern

pairing: jeon wonwoo (svt) x f. reader

genre: space opera au; childhood friends to lovers, slight brother's best friend vibes; crack, lite angst, smut, fluff

summary: it's always felt impossible to live in your brother's shadow. he's the high council of your home planet, feared and respected in equal measure, and you're neither of those things. you've felt purposeless your entire life—until your and jeonghan's childhood friend is being held on a hostile planet after his own ship wrecks. since jeonghan's life is too important to risk, they send you in his place. considering you're twins, no one will know the difference... right?

content warnings: mentions of cage fighting, violence, and blood; adult content; inferiority complex, insecurity, etc.

word count: tbd

shakespeare inspiration: Twelfth Night

find a seat take in the show

title: best beware the sting

author: @imnotshua

pairing: florist!mingyu x wedding planner!f. reader

genre: wedding industry au. fluff, smut. colleagues to lovers.

summary: Yet again, your sister is complaining about your lack of interest in marriage, and the money sitting in trust, untouchable until you wed. An archaic manipulation tactic, you say. A grandparent's romantic notion, says Bianca, something she clearly inherited. At least they had the good grace to leave you the lake house without attached conditions, and finally your dream of opening your own wedding venue is within reach. Sure, it'll need a lot of hard work before it's featured in Belle Bridal (not to mention the money) but this is the challenge you've been needing.

Enter Kim Mingyu, stage left. He can't believe you're in the wedding industry, having heard of your disdain for romance even back at university. You can't believe he's proposing a partnership, footing the money for renovations in exchange for use of a portion of the land and the granny annexe, for as long as he might need.

content warnings: general adult content

word count: tbd

shakespeare inspiration: The Taming of the Shrew

find a seat take in the show

title: Love You Anyway

author: @aeristudios

pairing: Minghao x f. reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff, established relationship, friends with benefits

summary: What happens when you have young and rich, secret lovers mixed in with magical weed on a week vacation? Chaos

content warnings: sex lol, trippy dreams, recreational drug use (weed), drinking

word count: tbd

shakespeare inspiration: A Midsummer Night's Dream

find a seat take in the show

title: Life's But a Walking Shadow

author: @yoongihan

pairing: shifter changbin x shifter reader (jisung x reader, changbin x chan - mostly off screen/page)

genre: established relationship, angst, tragedy, war

summary: you've worked your way from outsider to trusted second, you are with the one you love, and life seems to be the best that is can be. but then there are whispers about an opportunity to rise even higher. how can you not seize this chance? it has to be fate.

content warnings: violence, prejudices within animal shape-shifter communities, murder, death, spooky predictions, innocents suffer (if you've read Macbeth, you should have an idea)

word count: tbd

shakespeare inspiration: Macbeth

find a seat take in the show

title: A World Elsewhere

author: @peaspeas

pairing: Hyunjin x reader

genre: a series of parallel universe encounters between R+J

summary: What if Romeo and Juliet weren't 'Romeo and Juliet'? What if they never became the two characters of the greatest tragic love story ever told?

content warnings: drinking, recreational drug use, Hyunjin has his drink spiked by a friend (but nothing bad happens)

word count: tbd

shakespeare inspiration: Romeo and Juliet

find a seat take in the show

note that as these are stories written by humans, the above titles are subject to change as life does not stop for writers. please be kind and encouraging to these authors.

"Milord…" The mewling sound you make is common with him. He likes hearing you, hearing you as he ruins you.

"Sodden?" he murmurs, taking a nibble of your earlobe. As though every part of you obeys him, your nether regions flood at his word. You nod, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair. "Good. Pull." You tug. "Harder." You pull harder. "Harder!"

He grumbles and lifts the back of your skirt, unlacing the back of your pantaloons. He slaps one cheek. You jolt, causing you to pull his hair even more.

"You can do better than that," he mutters, before rubbing where he's smacked, before following the curve down to where you are wet. "Hmmm good. I think you missed me."

"I do," you whisper, voice strained when his fingers slide in. It's tight and it always stings when he starts. "Do…do you miss me when we are not together?"

You know you shouldn't ask. Master Yoongi is not known for sentimentality. He uses pretty words when he wants to, like how he used to speak to you when he caught you out doing the washing. His feelings are in his eyes, in how he looks at you, in how he touches you when he corners you in corridors, in how his hands grab you so powerfully, he leaves marks.

You love wearing his marks. Even though no one else can see them, each and every one shows how much he loves you, how much he owns you.

He is yours.

One day, you'll be able to wear his marks proudly. To all those spoiled rich ladies who like to look at him like he looks at you.

© yoongihan 2026. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. bts belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

You're sparring with Jisung when he walks in. He can't be much older than the rest of you. He's broad, broader than Chan. He walks with purpose right up to Lee-nim, speaking loudly enough that you can hear the timbre of his voice, but not loud enough to make out the words.

Jisung hip-bumps you. "What?"

You nod and point to where the newcomer is listening to Lee-nim. He glances to where the two of you are, eyes wide (the first giveaway that he isn't as confident as his entrance made him look).

"You think he's one of us?" Jisung asks you, close, almost leaning against you. It surprises you, how lately Jisung—who you'd assumed at worst hated you; at best tolerated you—seems to always be there when you look around. Offering to spar with you, asking if he can carry your textbooks and walk with you to class, coming over to the Bangs to play video games with Chan, but ends up finding you outside in the hammock.

"I can't tell from here. But Lee-nim isn't turning him away," you reply, noticing how Jisung's arm is press against yours as you both lean against the ropes.

"He doesn't look thrilled either."

"What are you two whispering about?" Chan rolls under the ropes and pops up next to Jisung. "Sweet nothings?"

"Shove off," you say, rolling your eyes, waiting for Jisung to also protest. When he doesn't say anything, you look over at him to see his cheeks are red red. You decide not to ask (boys are gross ninety-nine percent of the time). "We're talking about the boy who just came in."

Chan looks to where you're indicating.

"You think he shifts?" you ask because everyone here grew up knowing what they were (or what they could be—sometimes the first shift came later for some). You don't know when you had your first shift. Mrs. Bang thinks therapy could help you remember your early years, but you figure your brain knows better and keeps it blocked out.

"I think so," Jisung finally speaks again. "Something about him."

"Yeah," Chan agrees, voice soft. "Something about him."

You look over at your adoptive brother, the quiet of his voice (he's not quiet, especially at the dojo) piquing your interest. He's looking at the newcomer still. When he sees you looking at him, he turns to you and Jisung, his cheeks turning a dark pink.

Even darker than when he's training and lifting.

What is going on with Jisung and Chan?

"Everyone!" Lee-nim calls out over the open room. "We have a new student. This is Seo Changbin. He's new to town." Lee-nim pats his back before leading him over to where Felix and Seungmin are doing their taekwondo moves (you can't even remember what they're called anymore). Felix lights up and greets the new guy, immediately swinging an arm around his shoulder to give him a tour.

"We should…keep sparring," Jisung says. "Might look weird if we're staring."

You shrug, turning back to the mat and tugging your gloves back on.

Jisung is going through one of his combinations when Felix calls you both over.

"You probably heard Uncle-nim, but this is Changbin." Felix is beaming, but that's not unusual. Changbin listens as Felix recites your and Jisung's name. He nods, smiling at both of you. You can see that his eyes are nervous despite the confident smile.

"Welcome aboard," Jisung says before returning to the middle of the mat. Felix is already leading Changbin to the others, but you catch his gaze on you for a second longer.

Something about him, for sure.

© yoongihan 2026. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.