a little escape

So Vernon vows to himself that if he ever gets the opportunity to be an alpha for someone, he would be the one that fits his exacting, rigid standards. That opportunity comes when he meets you.

You’re Seungkwan’s friend, which isn’t surprising. Pretty much anyone Vernon knows, he knows because they are Seungkwan’s friend. Vernon can’t understand how in hell Seungkwan can keep up with such a large friend circle. He knows everybody. But it helps indirectly because Vernon doesn’t go out of his way to meet people, so Seungkwan almost acts like the proxy for his social life.

That’s exactly how he met you.

Vernon almost didn’t go, since it was just supposed to be some kind of game night for Seungkwan’s study group. But Seungkwan insisted, really insisted, and Vernon had bailed on the last two social events Seungkwan asked him to come with, so he had to give in. He’s so glad that he did.

Just the scent of you makes him stiffen, which is very unlike him. Vernon isn’t usually much affected by omegas, hell, his best friend is an omega. But you smell so sweet, in this light and fresh way that almost energises him. Your smile is so bright as you introduce yourself, hair swaying when your head moves, and Vernon’s fingers twitch with the urge to touch. He has to visibly shake his head and blink, quickly introducing himself and shutting up so that he doesn’t act like a fool. You’re so pretty, and your voice is so calming and friendly. Vernon has this deep feeling in his chest that he wants to stay around you. Right by your side.

He hangs out with you twice more after that, all in big groups, but he manages to get near you anyhow. You’re so interesting to him. You talk about your major with a passion he can never muster, a fire in your eyes, your long term plans laid out already. You’re energetic, not as much as Seungkwan, but you know how to match the omega’s energy. And you’re also quieter with Vernon, like you understand that he’s laid back and deals with things differently. Only someone truly empathetic and kind can be like that, and Vernon’s heart soars. You’re so perfect, you’re perfect, and he will be damned if he won’t be the perfect alpha for you.

And so Vernon makes a resolve. He will prove himself. He will be the one for you, to take care of you the way someone with your spirit deserves. And he is absolutely not the kind to just pussyfoot around. So Vernon watches. Vernon observes.

When fall starts bleeding into winter, he notices how you love to be bundled up. The biggest coats and jackets, the most layers of anyone else in the group.

“Cold?” He asks when you show up at the campus gates where everyone agreed to meet so you can go to dinner together. You give him a sheepish smile and nod under your heavy hoodie.

“I get cold very easily.” You admit. “My hands and feet specifically.”

Vernon knows exactly how to fix it.

That night, he rummages through his closet and finds three sets of wool socks. His grandmother knits so many for him and his sister, and keeps sending them. Vernon wears one pair and keeps the rest for later use when his first ones are worn out. He swears by them, because she uses the finest wool for knitting. He contemplates between a navy blue pair and a grey one, ultimately going for the blue. He hopes you will like them.

When he finds you in the hallways the next morning, just before classes, he feels like his heart will beat out of his chest. He’s so nervous, and he worried himself sick last night about whether or not you would accept his gift. He wants to be there for you, to provide for you and understand your needs and take care of you. To be your alpha. This is it, the big moment.

He pulls you aside and away from the prying eyes of other students before slowly pulling out the small bag he put the socks in. You take it curiously, peering inside.

“You said your feet get really cold.” He quickly explains. “These are merino wool. My grandma makes them. They’re very warm, I promise.”

You look so surprised, blinking at the item in your hand. He watches your thumb run over them, feeling how soft they are.

“A-are you sure, Vernon?” You ask. “I was just complaining about the weather, I didn’t really think….”

Vernon immediately nods. He’s so sure. There’s no one else for him except you. You look a little hesitant, Vernon holds his breath, and then finally, you nod.

The air escapes his chest with a loud whoosh, and joy takes his place. He nods, more jerky this time, trying to tamp down his giddy smile.

“Thank you so much.” You look truly touched at the gesture, and that satisfies the alpha inside him. He took care of you, and you accepted his courting gift. You want to give him a chance. And as Vernon looks into your bright, warm eyes, he’s determined to never, ever let you down.

Vernon feels like he’s on cloud nine for the rest of the day, and when he lays in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he’s already planning other ways to convince you that he is the perfect alpha for you. He has watched you intensely (in a non-creepy way), and he knows what habits you have, and how he can enrich your life with his own presence. His top priority is giving you as much love and care as he possibly can. His phone buzzes beside his pillow, breaking him from his thoughts. His heart kicks hard when he realises who the message is from.

[you]: i love the socks vernon thank you so much!

He grins so wide he feels like his cheeks might split. Your response encourages him so much. His alpha hums, settling like a warm weight in his chest. He goes to sleep with that same, stupid grin on his face.

Vernon did believe he was good friends with you, but you warm up to him even more after that. You love to talk and catch up whenever you meet him. You love the cat videos he sends you, and when you realise he likes them, you send them to him as well. He feels particularly giddy when you caption them with something like ‘reminded me of you’. You’re so wonderful, and Vernon can’t help that deep seated catch in his stomach that tells him he is falling in love.

He doesn’t mind.

But Vernon is still courting you, and he takes being an alpha to you very seriously. He goes shopping with his sister for the weekend and picks out one of those thermoses that keep liquids warm for hours, and not the dysfunctional, knock off kind that just look pretty. Sophia thinks it’s too plain, so Vernon frets over that, but he wants this to be practical, something you really need. This is about your comfort, and he won’t compromise on that. It makes Sophia snort.

“I’m surprised you managed to court her. With socks of all things.”

That makes him blink. “She loved them. She uses them all the time.”

Sophia only laughs.

Vernon fills the thermos with your preferred preparation of coffee on Monday and gives it to you when he finds you on a picnic table on campus grounds before your first class.

“It keeps liquid warm for at least 10 hours.” He explains himself. “It’s got thicker insulation, see? I looked it up before I bought it.”

You stare at it. “Vernon, this must have cost a lot-”

He immediately cuts you off. “Don’t worry about the price. I just hope it’s good and you use it.”

You give him a wide smile, biting your bottom lip and avoiding his eyes. Are you feeling shy? Vernon’s alpha soars.

“Thank you.” You mumble. Vernon shakes his head.

“Stop saying thank you.” It’s my job. I want to take care of you.

You only let out a little laugh and nod. Vernon feels the urge to lean over the table and kiss you. It takes everything in him to not do exactly that.

The holidays come and go. Vernon talks to you often, even when you leave the city to spend the days off with your family. You wish him a happy new year, asking him about his resolutions. Vernon’s wants to say ‘to make you my omega’ but he holds back. He doesn’t want to come off too strong and push you away. So he keeps it silently in his chest, and instead asks for yours.

[you]: definitely to hit the gym. i need to get better about being healthy :(

Vernon is already planning.

When he sees you next time, it’s because you come to the dorm room to see Seungkwan. He isn’t there, but Vernon is, so you offer to wait for your friend. Vernon is eager to let you in, patting his bed down and quickly tidying up a bit. He doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob.

(He isn’t. But he also doesn’t want you to think he is.)

“I got you something.” He starts, rummaging through the bag he put your stuff in. You raise an amused eyebrow.

“Again? You really shouldn’t have…”

Vernon shakes it off. “It’s nothing much, I promise.” He walks to you with what he got.

“It’s an athletic band, for when you go to the gym.” He explains. “I wanted you to have your own. And here,” He puts everything in your lap, “electrolyte pouches. This is the good stuff that athletes use. Mingyu told me about them. The convenience store stuff isn’t very healthy.”

Your mouth is agape, and you let out an incredulous laugh. “You really go out of your way, don’t you?”

I do. Vernon wants to say. Because it’s true. He won’t spare any expense, any effort, when it comes to you. He hopes that these attempts show them to you. This is what the courting period is all about. He wants to give you proof that he is well capable of being everything you will ever want and need.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s so soft, so laced with warmth, and Vernon’s alpha almost preens. Almost. It’s rare for alphas to react like that, but for Vernon, this is acceptance on another level. He vowed to himself that he would be your biggest support, your only one. And he’s succeeding. He’s well on his way to being your everything, just like how you’re his everything already. He gives himself maybe a couple of more months, then he will officially ask you to be his.

He’s generally a patient guy, but he really can’t wait.

…………………………………

You have a dilemma, and you really don’t know anyone who you can talk to about it except Boo Seungkwan.

Initially, you wanted to hold off on it. You’ve known Vernon for a while now, and you know how genuine he is as a person. He is truly one of the people you trust the most, because he’s so attentive and kind. Your omega likes him too, maybe a little too much, and you always have to remind yourself that he’s just a friend, nothing more. But you can’t help being enamoured by him. He’s so different from how you are, but you gel with him so well. There’s something so charming about him, you can’t help but be sucked in.

But Vernon’s brand of weird might be getting a little…. too weird.

When he first gave you socks that his grandmother knitted, you were shocked, pleasantly so. You were half inclined to refuse, but they were genuinely so soft and Vernon looked like he really wanted you to have them, so you accepted. You did have a cold feet problem, and you complained to him about it. He happened to have a solution in his home, so he got it for you. It was very nice of him.

But then he got you that really expensive thermos. You know it was expensive because you looked it up afterwards, cursing under your breath. You love your friends and would help them any way you can, but this felt like too much. Vernon didn’t care though, adamant on you having it. And you didn’t have the heart to refuse when he kept insisting. And goddamn, it did keep your coffee warm and cozy for hours, so you could happily sip on it for a long time. You still use that thing every day.

Then there was the little stuff, like electrolyte packets and a gym headband, or the muscle patches he got you when you complained about being sore (it wasn’t even that bad, you just like to complain). It seems that no matter what you say, Vernon is always listening, like he wants any opportunity to make your life better. It warms your heart, it makes your omega keen, but Vernon is swimming very close to dangerous waters. All this is doing is making you more and more inclined to him, his thoughtfulness and care makes you want to melt right into him. Because at the end of the day, he’s an alpha, and you want him more and more with every passing day.

As you said, dangerous waters.

Things really take a turn when he shows up at your dorm with toothpaste, the same brand you use on a daily basis. You stare at it.

“Yours was running out last time I was here.” He says, and he’s so nonchalant about it, like friends just notice something like dwindling toothpaste and buy it for you. You’re so flabbergasted that you don’t even think of rejecting it, just thanking him quietly instead. He nods, smiling.

Okay, you need to talk to Seungkwan.

You text Seungkwan about meeting you for lunch at a café outside campus. It’s not too far, but enough that you know you won’t run into any of your mutual friends there. You really don’t want to talk to anyone who won’t help you, and while you’re very social on most days, you’re in no mood to deal with people right now. You ignore the urge to stay home in bed, because you really need to do something about this Vernon situation, so you push yourself to go, despite the resistance in your body.

Seungkwan just thinks it’s a normal catchup meal when he greets you, but when you start to slowly tell him about what Vernon has been doing for the last few months, his jaw just drops more and more, his plate completely forgotten.

“You’re not serious.” He mutters when you finish.

“I am.” You sigh. “And I love it, you know? I do. It makes me feel….. some type of way. But that’s why you have to tell him to stop. I can’t keep assuming that he’s doing it for some other reason. My heart can’t take it.”

You feel intense emotions rise up in you, and you have to swallow them down. It surprises you a little, how heated and charged you feel, but you push the thought out of your mind, trying to focus. Seungkwan’s face is pinched in thought, but you can see in real time as it smooths in realisation.

“Oh my god, wait.”

You watch him curiously. “What?”

But Seungkwan doesn’t say, shaking his head. Then, he goes back to his food.

“I’ll talk to him, okay?”

You’re a little confused at the weird reaction, but you nod. You’re already feeling a little tired, even though you haven’t even been out of the house that long. You wish you had just stayed in and put this off for another day.

“Just be nice about it. I don’t want him to feel bad. He’s been doing such kind things for me, I don’t want to come off as ungrateful.”

But Boo Seungkwan has a whole other storm brewing in his head as he waves goodbye to you and heads to his dorm. He thinks he has a pretty good idea about what the hell Vernon has been doing, but he needs to be one hundred percent sure about it first.

Vernon is sitting at his desk, headphones on, when Seungkwan taps him on the shoulder. The alpha turns around. Seungkwan decides not to beat around the bush.

“So I was on a lunch date with Y/N.”

Seungkwan can see the exact moment Vernon’s face lights up. He sighs internally. His suspicions are true.

“How is she?” Vernon asks.

Seungkwan plops himself down on the edge of the bed. “Wouldn’t you know that? Since she’s your omega?”

Vernon huffs out a laugh. “She’s not my omega yet.”

Yet. “But you are courting her.” He doesn’t frame it as a question.

Vernon nods. Seungkwan wants to groan.

“And it’s going well?”

“It is.”

“Right. Sure. It’s going so well that the omega you are courting doesn’t even know she’s being courted.”

Vernon pauses, blinking at Seungkwan owlishly. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Vernon’s mouth opens and closes a few times, not unlike a fish. “I don’t understand.”

Seungkwan feels a horrific laugh bubble up in his chest, but he doesn’t say anything. He watches Vernon’s face go through a million emotions, confusion being the predominant one.

“I gave her a courting gift. She accepted.”

“You gave her socks.” Seungkwan deadpans.

Vernon frowns. “She needed them. She told me herself, her feet are always cold.”

Seungkwan groans at that, putting his head in his hands. “Hansol….”

Seungkwan laughs then, but Vernon doesn’t find the situation funny at all. A mild panic is curling in his chest, his mind racing. Did you really not know? Were you really clueless? He hadn’t said it explicitly, sure, but he was certain you got his meaning. He was taking care of you, showing you he could be a good alpha. Was he not clear enough?

Seungkwan’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “A courting gift, especially the first one, has to be something romantic. Like a bracelet or a necklace. Jewellery.”

Vernon puts his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. “I- I just thought it would be better if I gave practical gifts….”

Seungkwan huffs out a laugh. “Practical gifts are great, but fucking toothpaste, man?”

Vernon wants to bash his head into a wall. He looks at Seungkwan with pleading eyes.

“What did she say? Does she not like me?”

Seungkwan shakes his head immediately. “The opposite actually. She thinks you only see her as a friend, and she feels bad about liking you more than that because of how considerate you are.”

Vernon can’t believe his ears. He can’t. You think he’s not interested? He couldn’t have made his interest any clearer. But obviously, he went about it the wrong way, and now you feel shitty because of him. Vernon’s alpha growls, disapproving. He doesn’t like this feeling, knowing that he is responsible for any negative emotion you experience.

He needs to fix this.

Seungkwan doesn’t stop him as he tugs his shoes on, grabbing his phone before he leaves. He’s contemplating on sending you a text that he’s on his way to you, but he remembers the exchange you had with Seungkwan, and he fears that his text might make you spiral. So he just sets off, hoping he can catch you when you’re not too busy so you can talk it out. He always believed he didn’t want to rush you, but if it’s causing miscommunication, then he needs to make his intentions crystal clear.

He reaches your door in record time. You don’t have a dorm mate thankfully, since your last one dropped out and a new one wasn’t appointed to you. This is good, because it means you two can talk openly. He knocks and waits, shifting on his feet. He feels anxious and uncertain, and he prays he hasn’t ruined anything between you two, especially after he tried so hard to make everything go right.

You’re not answering. Vernon tries again, wondering if maybe you have headphones on and can’t hear him. Maybe he should text you that he’s right outside. He’s just contemplating on it when the door swings open.

You have a scowl on your face, lips pulled into a pout as you stick your head out. Cute. Vernon gives you a sheepish smile when recognition dawns on your features.

“Vernon.” Your voice is raspy. He shuffles.

“Sorry. Were you sleeping?”

You blink a few times, rapid movements as if trying to clear your vision. Vernon shifts again, feeling restless. He’s been feeling restless ever since he first knocked on your door. He scents the air instinctively. You smell…. just as you always do. Maybe sweeter? He can’t place it. Something is off, not in a bad way. But he can’t put his finger on it.

“This isn’t a good time.” You say, and your voice is still strained and tired. Vernon’s early anxiety is gone. He feels concern sting at his chest.

“Are you okay?” He has to ask, because a voice inside him is telling him that you’re not. You pause before answering, and it’s a little too long for his taste.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Can we talk in a few days?”

A few days? Vernon’s eyebrows furrow. His nose won’t stop twitching because of the alteration in your scent. He watches you, really watches you, the barely noticeable line of sweat on your hairline, your breathing just slightly more rapid than usual, how you’re gripping the doorframe like it’s holding half your weight. Vernon’s alpha bristles.

“Pre-heat?” He croaks.

You swallow tightly, he can see it with the way your throat bobs. When you don’t deny it, his alpha howls. His fingers twitch. It takes everything in him to not reach for you.

“So, later?” You ask again. He blinks.

“I was courting you.” He blurts. “The gifts. I- I thought I was being clear about it. But I wasn’t. That’s my fault, not yours. I should’ve said it, I should’ve gotten you something prettier or nicer. But I didn’t.”

Your jaw drops at his words. Silence hangs in the air for a few seconds.

“You like me?” Your voice is so tiny, so unsure. Vernon wishes he could rip the heart out of his chest and give it to you to prove that he doesn’t just like you, but that he’s in love with you. But he settles for better words.

“I wanted to show that I could take care of you. That I could be a good alpha and love you the way you deserve.”

Your eyes are bright. Your mouth is slightly open in an ‘O’ shape. You don’t say anything for a long while. Vernon feels despair sink in his head.

“I’m sorry.”

You seem to break from your trance. Your eyebrows draw together. “What are you sorry for?”

Before he can reply, your voice dies and you wince. Vernon feels his chest squeeze, hands reaching out before he can stop himself when he sees your poster hunch forward a little. He hovers uncertainly over you. Being in your space makes your scent get denser, heavier. Vernon grits his teeth hard. His brain feels like it’s short circuiting.

“You should get back inside.” He chokes out. “You shouldn’t be standing up right now. Your cramps will get worse.”

You don’t reply, almost like your mind is fogged. Vernon makes up his mind, very carefully placing his hands on your elbows so he can shuffle both of you backwards into the room.

It smells even more intensely like you inside. Vernon’s eyelids flutter, and he has to stop himself from breathing in deep. He gently guides you to the bed and you follow without much hesitation. You sigh into the pillows once your body relaxes, and Vernon pulls the blanket over you. He notices just then that you’re wearing the navy blue socks he gave you. His heart skips a beat as he leans beside the edge of the bed.

“Do you need anything?” He tries to make a mental list. He’s never really helped an omega with their heat before. When Seungkwan goes into heat, university policy is to leave the dorm and room with someone else for the duration, so he just stays with another friend. But Vernon isn’t a complete idiot, so he thinks. Painkillers, a warm water bottle, sustenance of some kind, something high calorie-

“Just stay here with me.” You pipe up. He freezes.

“I can’t.” He tries to say as placatingly as possible. “Your heat will hit soon.”

You blink up at him, and he notes the thin, shiny layer covering your eyes. “So?”

He stares. “So….. I can’t stay.” Or I will lose my mind.

“Yes, you can. You said you wanted to show me you can take care of me, right?” Your eyelids hang low, eyes only half open as you peer up at him. “So take care of me, alpha.”

Vernon thinks his head is spinning. No, it’s the room. The room is spinning. He is completely still in place, like a statue, because he feels that if he moves, he will sway and topple over. His alpha is howling, a chorus of ‘yes, yes, yes’ that chokes any other thought in his brain. Instead, he clenches his jaw hard and reaches his hand up to rest it carefully on your head. He brushes your hair back slowly. You sigh at his mere touch. You’re heated, already almost burning up.

“Are you sure?” He whispers. “You’re close to heat. You can’t be saying this just because your omega wants an alpha here with you.”

You let out a small laugh. “I’m in pre-heat only. I know what I’m doing. I’ve….. liked you for a while now.”

Vernon can feel how hot the back of his neck is. “Really?”

You nod. He lets out a shaky breath. He can’t believe his ears, almost like someone went in there and scraped all his brains out, leaving his head hollow and light. But his chest is so full that he feels like it will explode.

“Okay.” He says with an air of finality. “I’ll take care of you, I promise. You won’t want for anything. I’m here.”

…………………………….

You don’t really remember much of your pre-heats, generally. Most of the time, you spend it dozing in and out of sleep, eating whatever you’ve stashed in your room beforehand. This one is the same. You’re very sleepy, so you hunker down on your bed and nap as much as you can. The difference this time is that you’re coaxed awake every few hours by an alpha hanging over your bed, helping you sit up and feeding you small bites of warm food instead of your usual packaged stuff.

Vernon leaves whenever you fall asleep, coming back with stuff he picks up from restaurants, all rich and dense food that puts you in a good mood and makes you sleep longer. Two nights after he first showed up, you feel uncomfortable again, so you ask for his hoodie. He doesn’t hesitate for two seconds before he pulls it off and tugs it onto you.

“Better?” He asks as you sink into bed again. You hum in relief. It feels amazing to be surrounded by his scent like this. Your omega settles and your discomfort wanes.

“Much.” You reply. He nods. You watch him putter around, cleaning up plates and looking at how much water you still have. You know that you’re only settling with his hoodie temporarily. As your heat hits, his clothes won’t be enough. You will want him. All of him.

Your face flames at the thought. You really never could’ve imagined that Vernon would want to help you like this. You always assumed he was being a good friend, hence why you wanted Seungkwan to stop him. Because you were getting too attached to him, and you didn’t want to set yourself up for future hurt. Turns out, he was courting you, in some characteristically Vernon way of his. And in a way….. it worked. It made you love him more.

Days pass in your pre-heat haze. When you wake up one day, your back drenched in sweat and your heart racing so fast it makes you pant heavily, you realise you’ve hit your heat. You sit up slowly, struggling to unfold your tense body. Vernon isn’t here, probably out to get more supplies or a change of clothes for himself. Your omega whines. You’re wet between the thighs already. You rub them desperately together. Why is your alpha not back yet?

You’re just psyching yourself up to leave the bed when the door to your dorm swings open and Vernon steps inside, arms weighed by bags. He blinks, surprised to see you awake.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” He asks, pushing the door shut with his heel and placing the bags on your study table. You let out a shaky breath.

“Alpha.”

Something in your voice seemingly registers, because his head jerks up. You can feel his nose twitch when you shift, throwing the blanket off your sweaty body. Your scent hits him. You try to shuffle closer to him.

“Need you, please.”

Vernon wastes no time in toeing off his shoes and walking closer to the bed, settling on it and letting you come to him. You crawl into his lap, sighing in relief when your skin meets his. He still hasn’t taken his jacket off, so you tug impatiently at it. He obliges by discarding it, leaving him in a simple shirt and jeans.

You tuck your head against his neck like it’s second nature, like you’ve done it a million times before. You nose at his scent glands, eager to have it invade your senses straight from the source. You feel his hand run comforting circles over your sweaty back.

“You’re drenched.” He murmurs, tugging at your shirt a little where it’s sticking to your skin. You huff.

“‘M hot.”

“Do you want a change of clothes?”

No. I want you to take them off entirely.

You don’t say it, just biting your lip and nosing at his neck more. You know Vernon is here to help with your heat, but you suddenly feel so shy asking him to. God, this was your idea, and you can’t even bring yourself to verbalise it.

When your silence stretches too long, you feel a soft hand on your jaw, nudging your head up. Your eyes meet wide, brown ones.

“I’m here for whatever you need. Just ask, okay? I can’t know unless you tell me.”

He’s right. He’s being so logical and so sweet about it while you’re wallowing. So you nod, mustering up the confidence to peer up at him and say, “I want you.”

Vernon nods. “Okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

When he leans down to softly brush his lips to yours, your omega whines. You inhale shakily and press closer, kissing him properly. He takes it so slow, like he’s savoring every second of it, running his hands carefully, reverently, down your sides before sliding under the hem of your shirt. His skin is so cool against your heated body, and it’s a welcome relief. You sigh into his mouth.

Vernon grips just a little tighter, your flesh dimpling under his touch. It makes your body shift forward, your core grazing over his jean-clad thigh. Your breath hitches as pleasure zips up from your core.

That sets a charged, lazy rhythm. Vernon guides the movement of your body with a firm grip on your hips, back and forth, back and forth, your cunt sliding over his thigh. The rough material of his jeans provides delicious friction, while your flimsy shorts might as well not be there. You’re soaked through, and if you looked down, you’re sure you would see a dark patch on his jeans. He seems to not care about the fact that you’re ruining his clothes. He moans into your mouth, tenses his thigh periodically in a way that sends a pleasurable jolt up your spine. Your legs are spread wide apart, your slit open, pressing your most sensitive parts to him. He kisses you senseless as the pressure in your core gets tighter and tighter, your movements more rushed, more sloppy. He bites your bottom lip the exact moment your orgasm hits, washing over your body like a tidal wave, leaving you moaning and shaking, Vernon’s sure grip the only thing holding you steady.

“Good. Good girl.” He whispers into your raw, bitten lips. “Perfect. There you go.”

Your trembling body goes limp against his figure. He holds you there for a bit, letting you come down. You process what just happened. This was not what you expected, though you’re not complaining at all. It was so hot.

You’re shifted backwards slowly. Vernon lays you on the bed and presses a sweet kiss on your cheek, pulling back.

“You really should change clothes now, sweetheart.” He says. You giggle breathlessly and nod.

Vernon finds a fresh pair of shorts and a loose shirt. He helps you change. You really don’t feel hesitant about being naked in front of him. Hell, you just rode his thigh and came all over him. Speaking of, his jeans are ruined, you can see it a mile off. Vernon excuses himself to the bathroom once you’re settled, and when he emerges later, he’s dressed in sweats.

You eat the food he brought, more like he feeds you and you let him. It feels nice, being pampered and taken care of like this. You say as much to him. He lets out an airy laugh and shakes his head.

“That’s what my intention was the entire time.” He confesses. “I wanted to be a good alpha to you. And in my opinion, a good alpha is someone who knows how to take care of his omega. I was trying to prove that.”

You smile, watching him set the empty plate aside and pour you a glass of water.

“I already know you’re a good person, Vernon. You didn’t have to do all that.”

He shakes his head. “There’s a difference between being a good person and a good alpha. You needed to know I would be there through thick and thin, and I could anticipate your needs and make your life easier. To be loved is to be known, isn’t that what they say?”

You stare at him, speechless. Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you try to look for words, anything you can say to tell him how much this means to you, how much he means to you. But you’re tired, and your heat is messing with your head, and you can’t think of anything that will properly get your meaning across. So you put down the glass in your hand and lean forward, laying a kiss on his lips.

You feel him stiffen only briefly, kissing you back when he realises what is happening. You feel his hand cup your cheek tenderly, slotting his lips deeper into yours. You sigh into this kiss, kicking forward to once again settle in his lap like you did previously. It’s almost like instinct. It’s comforting for you, and with the way his free arm curls around you, you know he likes it too.

You don’t know if it’s your heat, or just the fact that it’s Vernon, but the air charges quickly, and the kiss deepens. Your bodies undulate together, small moans and sighs until you can feel a familiar ache in your loins, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Alpha.” You whine into him.

“I’ve got you.” He reassures you, like he always has. The world tilts, and you’re laid back on the mattress, his torso pressing you down deliciously. His mouth doesn’t leave you for a second, nipping and kissing, before his tongue licks into your mouth. Your pussy clenches around nothing.

Fingers dip into the waistband of your pajamas, tugging them off in one smooth motion. Fingers prod at your entrance, and you pull your knees up and apart. You’re already so wet, so ready, that he slides two fingers in immediately with next to no resistance.

“Fuck.” Vernon groans at the exact time you gasp. His fingers curl, pressing and rubbing, looking for that one spot. You moan and jerk.

“You’re so wet. You’re gonna ruin the sheets.”

He pulls back enough to look down at you. You watch in awe as the corner of his lip quirks up with a smirk you have never seen before. He looks so sexy like this, it makes your head spin.

“Soak my hand. Wanna feel it.”

You shriek when he presses into your soft spot, back arching off the bed. He coos, watching you with half lidded eyes, biting his bottom lip. You burn under his gaze, but it feels so good. Your orgasm is building up frighteningly quick, and before you know it, your legs are seizing.

You babble incoherently, trying to warn him, one hand fisting his shirt while the other tugs at the sheets. The knot in your core is so tight, ready to burst any moment, and he says the final words to get you there.

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl. Do what I said. Soak my hand.”

And you do, stars bursting in your vision at the same time that the knot implodes. You can hear how wet the sounds get, sloppy and filthy enough to make you flush. But you’re too preoccupied by how good it feels, washing over your entire body in waves. You know, even before you are fully down, that you are now addicted to this feeling, to him. His scent, heavy and reassuring and endlessly horny, you can tell. And his presence, sure and all encompassing. Your hands, still trembling, reach down, pawing and scratching at his pants.

“Alpha.” You’re surprised you can speak. “Off. Need- need you. Your knot. Please.”

Vernon doesn’t hesitate. With a few precise motions, his pants are pulled off and his shirt follows. You run your hands hungrily over his lean figure. He’s cut. You can trace the muscles, and it makes your mouth water. He’s so hard already, long and veiny and throbbing, and your pussy clenches pathetically. Your hips jerk.

Vernon wraps a hand around his shaft, pumping a few times. You see the precum leak from his tip and dribble down. Your legs twitch when he rubs his mushroom head up and down over your slit, gathering your slick. He groans.

“Look at that. You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” You watch him bite his lip. You buck up again. Finally, he guides the head down, teasing your rim for a few seconds before sliding the head inside.

Your jaw goes slack as he slides in, inch by glorious inch, until you feel the base of his pelvis meet your skin. You can feel him throb even inside you, your walls squeezing and releasing over and over to try and get used to the massive intrusion. Above you, Vernon’s face is pinched, and he curses loudly.

“Don’t- please don’t do that.” His voice is strained. “I’m gonna cum too soon.”

You can’t help your breathless giggle, but you try to relax a little around him. You both breathe deeply, and finally, you feel the alpha move.

The pace is stable and reverent from the beginning, like he wants to feel every nook and cranny of your cunt around him. He fucks you like he’s making up for lost time, speeding up and then slowing down, watching his cock disappear inside your needy, sopping pussy and pulling out, the shaft shiny with your juices. Your eyes roll up at the feeling, how he carves through your opening, in and out, brushing over all the good spots as he moves. He changes the angle every couple of minutes, and you gasp loudly when he hits you just right.

He reads your body like an open book, immediately honing in on the spot and picking up speed. Skin slaps against skin, a plopping sound that fills the room and only turns you on even more, if that’s even possible. Vernon’s eyes run over every part of you hungrily, like he wants to commit all of it to memory, and you feel like you’re on fire under the heat in his gaze.

“I’m gonna cum again.” You whimper, feeling tears sting at your eyes as your pleasure crests to heights you have never felt before. Your whole body feels like it’s molten lava, bubbling up inside you until it overtakes your every nerve. Your hands scramble for purchase, and Vernon sees. He winds his fingers through yours and pushes up, pressing your intertwined hands above your head. Your back arches, body laid open for his eyes only. And under his watchful gaze, his soft words, you cum hard, wailing as you drench his cock with your juices, squeezing around him so hard that you almost black out. Something swollen catches on your opening. He thrusts rough a few more times before he surges forward, bullying his knot deep inside you. Your eyes roll. Your omega keens.

Vernon releases your hands, running his own carefully down your body, like he wants to milk the rigidity from your limbs. You breathe heavily, trying to blink the tears away. He nuzzles into your neck, nosing at it and inhaling deep. When you feel his tongue lick over your scent glands, you shiver.

“Sorry.” He whispers when feels it. “Too much?”

You shake your head and turn it the other way, baring your neck to him. You feel his shaky exhale. He runs his tongue over your neck again, scenting you properly. You bask in the feeling.

You’re so completely at peace here, with his knot inside you and his tongue on your skin. This is exactly what you needed. And it’s clear to you now that Vernon knows actually what you need, always.

You don’t make a lot of noise as you get the machine ready for a nice cup of coffee. All three of you had gone in on it so you could get the expensive, fancy kind. Jeonghan had called it an investment, and you had wholeheartedly agreed. Seungcheol grumbled about it a little but gave his part of the money anyway. He kept claiming he wasn’t that big on coffee, but ever since you bought it, he has had a cup every morning without fail, something Jeonghan will never stop teasing him on.

The aroma is warm and rich in your nose as it slowly infiltrates the kitchen. You contemplate if you want breakfast now with your coffee or later, and decide to grab an apple. You’re just staring at it, wondering if the brown spot on it is something you can ignore or if you should discard the whole thing, when you hear light pattering on the floors outside.

You expect Jeonghan’s slumped, languid figure to slink into the kitchen, groaning about how tired he is, or maybe Seungcheol with his head of short, spiked hair all over the place and that perpetual pout that undercuts his years of effort building impressive muscle. But it’s neither of them. It’s someone you don’t know.

She blinks owlishly at you, hair tangled on her head and wearing a bright bodycon dress, holding a pair of heels in her hand. Her mascara is smudged, but under the distressed look, you can tell that she is amazingly pretty.

“Hi.” She chirps. It’s soft and almost melodic. You manage to smile back. The air is painfully awkward, so she shifts and takes a hesitant step back.

“I should just go.” She says sheepishly, and before you can say anything (not that you were planning to), she disappears from the doorway of the kitchen. After a few seconds, you hear the front door click shut. You swallow hard, but the knot formed in your throat doesn’t go away.

Friday nights don’t just mean waking up at noon with terrible hangovers. They also mean a girl trying to tiptoe out of Seungcheol’s room. And always a stranger. Never the same one twice.

You sigh and turn back to the coffee machine, which lets out a beep. You quickly take the pot to fill your cup, deciding against adding milk and just taking a sip of the dark mixture. You wince when it slides down your throat, but it’s hot enough and bitter enough that the knot in your throat loosens. You stare at your cup, the swirling liquid, and try your best to not think about your recent interaction.

There’s no point in it. Seungcheol is just….. like that. Someone so unbelievably different that you can’t fathom how you even ended up in the same orbit.

Well, you know exactly how. Yoon Jeonghan.

Jeonghan was in your first ever introductory class in college. He was seated right next to you, and after knowing you for the duration of just one lecture, he asked if you were looking for a place off campus, and then offered you his in the same breath. Apparently he and his roommate were desperate, and they really needed a third cohabitant in order to make rent. You just turned out to be the one who was looking for a place to stay, so you ended up saying yes, because Jeonghan gave you great vibes.

Seungcheol did too, when you met him.

You were immediately taken by him. He was loud and a little rough around the edges, but so endlessly kind. Seungcheol doesn’t look it, but he’s very in-tune with people’s emotions as well as his own. He knows what he wants out of life, he has endless confidence in himself. He’s charismatic, magnetic, and it only helps that he is beyond attractive. Tall, built like a brick house (something he is very proud of), soft dark hair and that charming smile accentuated by a dimple on his right cheek.

That fuckass dimple.

You knew you liked him. It was immediate. You were excited just at the thought of sharing space with him. And so you moved in, giddy at the thought of having your own place for the first time in your life, and sharing it with two guys who looked like seemingly amazing people.

And they truly are. It’s just that you were naïve to think Seungcheol’s appeal didn’t extend to everyone else like it did to you.

He’s like a lighthouse, attracting everyone to him like lost travelers. His friend circle is huge, from the gym dudes like Mingyu and Jihoon he works out with, to the party freaks like Soonyoung and Joshua he spends weekends with. He’s not in a frat, but he moves among a lot of similar people. Then there’s their friends, just an endless network that won’t stop expanding. This means meet-ups and parties every weekend, and that means there’s a girl in his room every two or three weekends.

You can’t even fault him. If someone looks like that, it would be criminal if they didn’t get regular action.

You and Seungcheol are fundamentally different people. You have friends too, but fewer, and more tight-knit. You are a homebody above anything else, and if it wasn’t for your friend Seungkwan, who is the most extroverted person you know outside of Seungcheol, you would never even leave your house. But Seungkwan’s definition of going out is much different to Seungcheol’s. So while Seungcheol likes the gym, pregaming, bowling and frat parties, you have scheduled cooking classes, basket weaving workshops, and arcade tournaments that Hansol drags you to once every month.

You’re poles apart. And you’re content with that. You can float in his periphery, and that’s enough for you. He’s miles out of your league anyway. So you’re happy just being an admirer.

“It’s pathetic.” Hansol often mumbles, voice devoid of any real venom. He sounds disinterested if anything.

“Thanks.” You shoot back. Seungkwan looks at Hansol, offended on your behalf.

“I think it’s cute.” He defends you. You grin at him and pinch his cheek. He swats your hand away, making you laugh.

“How bad can it really be if you just tell him?” Chan pipes up, his head down as he concentrates on pouring his wax into the mold slowly, trying not to spill it. You genuinely think his candle will smell the best out of your group, since he’s the only one truly concentrating. You’re too focused on telling them about the girl in your kitchen this morning.

Hansol snorts, tapping his mold on the table like your instructor told you to. His is a strange, muddy brown color. It smells like shit, but you don’t have the heart to tell him. You and Seungkwan did drag him to this candle making class on a weekend when he could just be sleeping all day, so he could make the worst candle known to man and you will still hype him up.

“She doesn’t have the balls.” He mumbles. You look at him with a gaping mouth.

“Hey!”

Hansol raises a challenging eyebrow. “Do you? You won’t tell him you like him. Ever. I’m not wrong.”

You scowl, feeling deeply offended. He isn’t wrong, and you all know it, because Seungkwan isn’t defending you this time. He just gives you a wince, indicating he agrees with Hansol. Dammit, you’re cornered.

“Your candle smells like shit.” You shoot back.

That distracts him, and he starts doubting and fretting over his candle, leaning down to sniff it over and over. The rest of the workshop is spent trying to salvage Hansol’s attempt, so you don’t get back to the topic you were previously discussing.

Good.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol are both on the couch by the time you come back in the late afternoon. They both look bleary-eyed and half dead, hair still damp on their heads from showering, eating takeout and watching TV. They greet you brightly when you come in, and you slump onto the couch next to them.

“What did you bring us?” Jeonghan asks. You always bring your crafts home, including today. You made three candles, one for each of you, and you’re excited as you take them out of your tote, hand them over, describing the scents you used.

“I made lavender and vanilla for you.” You hand Jeonghan his. He hums and nods in satisfaction as he sniffs, smiling big.

“Oh I need to light this immediately.” He pipes up, quickly standing to trudge into the kitchen. You grin.

“And me?” Seungcheol smiles at you, still leaned back on the couch so he can rest his head on the cushion. You can tell his head is still hurting a little.

“Your favorite.” You smile. “Cherry.”

Seungcheol looks excited as you hand it over. He eyes the dark color for a little bit before bringing it to his nose, sniffing. You watch his eyelashes flutter.

“Oh.” You see his lips tug up in realisation. “It smells like my cologne.”

“Yeah. The other note is sandalwood.” You feel the sides of your face heat up. “You…. you like those scents a lot.”

You immediately feel like you’ve revealed too much when Seungcheol’s eyes soften. He watches you for a few seconds, sniffing again.

“I love it.” He says, turning it over in his hand. It looks comically small in his hold. “It’s perfect.”

You nod jerkily and fidget a little, trying not to think about how fast your heart is racing, or how gentle this moment feels. Intimate, almost, sitting so close to him that your knee almost touches his thigh, his hair half falling into his eyes, the eyes he still has trained on you, the candle you put care into held delicately in his hand.

Jeonghan walks back into the living room with his lit candle, talking about how much trouble he had finding a lighter. The air around you breaks, and you stand up, mumbling something about how you’re tired already, so you’re going to head to bed. It’s only afternoon, and the excuse is bullshit, but you know you can’t be close to Seungcheol much longer without your heart hurting. You don’t feel Seungcheol’s eyes on your back as you leave, and you have no clue about the knowing way Jeonghan looks at his friend.

…………………………

Weekdays are filled with classes. So you have no time to relax.

You think it’s a fundamental flaw in you that you are taking so many classes, but your overachieving tendencies won’t let you back down from even one of them. Some days, it leaves you annoyed and frustrated, but often, those same classes serve as a blessing in disguise, because they preoccupy you so much that you don’t have to worry about any other problem in your life.

By the end of the week, you’re so exhausted that you just want to glue yourself to your bed, vowing not to move for the entire weekend. Of course, Seungkwan always plans something and inevitably drags you out of your humble abode, but you will take what time you have, unwinding and letting your brain shut down after a long and tiring five days. You fall asleep in the middle of your Modern Family marathon, managing to get only halfway through the season before you’re shutting your laptop, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Before you know it, you’re knocked out, and you don’t move until well into the next morning.

You wake up because you’re burning hot. Sweat makes your shirt cling to your back. In fact, your back is so warm that it’s uncomfortable. Your face pinches in annoyance, and you shift a little. At your movement, something tightens around your waist.

Your eyes pop open.

Morning light filters in through the curtains on your windows, setting the room up in a soft glow. You’re on your side, staring at the far off wall of your bedroom. There is weight draped over your waist, a warm touch splayed over your stomach. When you shift again, just slightly, the touch twitches and moves.

A hand.

You almost scream, but then you feel the soft hit of air on the back of your neck, periodic and deep. Like someone exhaling. You breathe in, the smell of cherry and sandalwood in your nose. You would recognise that anywhere. Even barely half conscious, you know who that scent belongs to.

Your entire backside, your torso, your ass, the back of your thighs, are pressed tightly to Seungcheol’s front, his arm a heavy weight draped around you so that he hand grips your stomach gently. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest, his exhales on your skin. You’ve gone so stiff you can barely feel your body, but you’re hyperaware of every part of you that touches him. You lay there in shock, contemplating.

What the hell is he doing? How did he end up in your room? How did he end up spooning you?

You have no answers, but you do know you need to get out of here. You brace yourself, using your leg in contact with the mattress to push until your body disconnects with Seungcheol’s a little. You freeze when he groans, a low sound that cracks under the weight of sleep, and you barely hold in a gasp when he tugs harshly with the arm around you, making you lurch back so he is once again pressed into you. He curls tighter around you, like his body is melting into yours, and your heart kicks painfully at your ribs. That’s when you feel it, hard and insistent, just nestled between your ass cheeks, his erection straining against the jeans he probably wore to whatever party he attended last night.

Mortification hits your veins like ice. You’re rock still in his arms, not even able to process what the fuck is happening to you. You feel his hand move a little, squeezing subconsciously, his fingers sinking into the plush of your stomach. Your face flames, and you can’t take it anymore. You grip his wrist tight and tug hard, loosening his grip, and immediately lunging out of bed. Your feet barely hit the floor before you’re already making a beeline out of the bedroom and straight into the bathroom. You don’t look back once. You definitely used enough force to wake him, but maybe he was so drunk before he passed out that he didn’t get roused by your movements.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, the horrified look on your face, your wide eyes, and the fact that your heart is beating so fast that it’s making you breath heavily. You lean against the sink, your legs shifting, and you realise you’re wet, nearly soaking through your shorts.

Your hands tremble as you wash them, staring at nothing. You remember how warm Seungcheol was, almost unbearably so, how good it was to feel him against you, the solid frame of him, caging you in like you were meant to be in his arms. His hand, digging into your flesh like it was his, and his bulge, so prominent and urgent, pressing into your ass, inches away from where you need him the most.

You’re so fucked.

You don’t think twice before jumping into the shower, letting the water pour over your head even though it’s not hair wash day. You don’t even wait for the hot water to come in, just standing beneath the stream as it slowly warms up. The initial shock of cold does wonders, calms your racing heart and smothers the heat in the bottom of your stomach. You let out a shaky breath.

It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake. He was probably so drunk he didn’t even realise where he ended up crashing. Your room is the first one on the left, his is the first one on the right. It’s an easy mistake, especially if someone is wasted. It seems like the best explanation, way more plausible than him actually sliding into your bed intentionally, a notion that just sounds absurd in your head.

You don’t know what to do.

You stay in the shower for so long that the pads of your fingers prune and the water turns cold again. You slip your pajamas back onto your wet body, because you didn’t bring a change of clothes with you, and finally, you brace yourself and return to your room, taking a deep inhale before opening the door. The bed is empty. He’s gone.

It’s relieving, because you were in no way prepared to see him. When you look at the clock, you realise it’s almost midday. So you pick up your phone and text Seungkwan, asking what his plans for the day are.

Seungkwan is honestly confused, because you almost never initiate meet-ups yourself, but he doesn’t turn you down. Him and Chan are both free, so you decide to meet up for a simple lunch. Hansol opts out, since his sister is in the city for the weekend. You’re grateful you have someone, because keeping this inside is feeling more and more impossible. As soon as you sit down, you blurt out everything that happened in the morning.

Seungkwan is beside himself, mouth opening and closing not unlike a fish, horror struck. He gasps at every detail, but groans disapprovingly when you talk about Seungcheol’s hard-on against your ass.

“You could’ve left that detail out.” He mutters.

“But it’s important!” You insist. “Kwannie, I’m a mess. What do I do? How can I even look him in the eye after this?”

Chan huffs, looking a lot calmer than Seungkwan. “Don’t do anything. Look, you’re right. It was probably a mistake. And if he remembers it at all, he will be pretty embarrassed. So just don’t talk about it at all. Don’t bring it up. Be normal.”

Right. That’s solid advice. Be normal.

But it’s hard to do that, not when you can’t stop thinking about it. The sizzle of his touch is something you’re reminded of when you lay in your bed that night, staring up at your ceiling and remembering how it felt to have his breath hit your skin, so close that you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. And when the heat becomes too much, when your mind goes awry and shuts down, your hand slides into your shorts.

It’s too much. You can’t face him when your brain and your actions are so depraved.

When Hansol finds out what happened, he says what he always does, that this is a problem of your own making.

“You chose this.” He says on Monday, when you finally meet him and tell him everything. “You live with him. It’s unavoidable that something weirdly uncomfortable would happen when you’re in close quarters with someone. And you can’t avoid him. You will see him every day.”

To you, it was always a net positive that you got to see Seungcheol every day, any unrequited feelings aside. Your hidden crush on him was trumped by the fact that he was so endlessly charming to you, your little puppy crush urged on by seeing him, being around him, basking in his presence. But now, that very thing is coming back to bite you in the ass.

You go a whopping three days without coming face to face with him. But then, your sneaking finally fails you. He catches you before classes on Wednesday, cornering you in the kitchen when you’re there to fill up your water bottle.

“I’m really sorry about that night.” He sounds sheepish, embarrassed. You remember Chan’s words, shaking your head in the best way you can think of to placate him.

“It’s fine! You were drunk, you probably don’t even remember that you did it. Honest mistake, right?”

Seungcheol smiles a little, his eyes trained carefully on you.

“Right.” He mutters.

He’s uncharacteristically quiet, and you want to blame it on his embarrassment. You feel uncomfortable, and you wonder if it has to do with what happened between you, or if he’s just being a little weird today.

“I should go.” You mumble. “Just had to fill this up.”

You hold up your water bottle for him to see. His eyes finally leave you to focus on it, and he raises a thick eyebrow.

“That’s new.” He points to the handle. You have a small Sanrio keychain hanging from it. You’re surprised he noticed, but you nod excitedly.

“Hansol’s sister came to see him for the weekend. She got all of us little trinkets.”

Seungcheol hums. “She knows your favorite Sanrio character? That’s cute.”

You smile and nod again, more enthusiastically. “I’m sure Hansol told her….”

A thought enters your head. You tilt your head to the side in thought. “How did you know?”

Seungcheol blinks, then lets out a small laugh. “You’re not exactly subtle about it, sweetheart. It’s plastered all over your room.

Right. Your room. The room he was in because he slept with you in your bed. Your stomach twists and you swallow hard. He looked around your room? When? After waking up? While you were showering? The thought of Seungcheol being in your private space, saying all your little interests laid out everywhere makes your heart flutter. You’re very private about your space, both him and Jeonghan know this. You don’t think either of them have been in your room since they first helped you move in.

You watch Seungcheol from where your back is against the counter. He watches you. You remember that night as the air around you two holds its breath. He was so close, closer than anyone had been in a long, long time. But you bet it was normal for him, this physical intimacy. After all, he’s had a steady rotation of girls in his room for as long as you’ve known him.

Right. This is Choi Seungcheol. Popular, attractive Choi Seungcheol. Wildly out of your league Choi Seungcheol.

“I’m gonna….” You gesture to the door. There’s a knot in your throat, and you don’t think you can speak. Seungcheol blinks and nods, steps away so you can walk past him. Your fingers shake as you tug your shoes on and escape quickly through the front door.

You walk to campus alone, already in agreement with Seungkwan that you will meet him there. You’re grateful for it, because you can go through your jumble of thoughts silently, so you can try to address this deep, uneasy feeling right in the center of your chest. It’s a strange mix of dread and longing that leaves you with a strange emptiness inside, like a sinking hollow. You think, for the first time since you moved in, that maybe being around Choi Seungcheol wasn’t the best idea. Maybe this will ultimately be your unraveling.

The hollow feeling settles like a weight. You walk to class slowly.

You still arrive ten minutes early, but you don’t have to worry about distracting yourself, because Seungkwan is practically buzzing in his seat. You raise a curious eyebrow as you sit next to him, and he immediately turns to you, like he was waiting for you to show up.

“There’s a party.” He says. “In the frat Seokmin is a part of.”

You blink. “Your biology lab partner Seokmin?”

Seungkwan nods. His grin is so wide you’re surprised his face hasn’t split.

“I didn’t know he was in a frat.” You mumble, pulling your laptop out and setting it on your desk.

“Well, he is.” Seungkwan answers impatiently. “Anyway, he and I just finished wrapping up the end of semester project. And I guess he’s super happy about it, because he said we should stop by the frat this Friday night for some party they’re having.”

You eye Seungkwan, giving him an incredulous look.

“You? At a frat party?” Seungkwan really isn’t the type. But then you pause. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’?”

Now Seungkwan has the decency to look a little sheepish. “I was hoping you would go with me.”

“No.”

Seungkwan immediately starts pleading, like he was expecting exactly this. Which wouldn’t be surprising. You despise parties. You had gone to a few at the very beginning of freshman year since you were so curious about college parties, and every single one of them without fail were horrific experiences. This was before you met Seungkwan and the guys. The people you were friends with at the time always got shitfaced, leaving you to pick up after them and get them home at the end of the night. The drinks there were usually awful unless you were bringing your own. And everyone was horny out of their minds, just chatting so they could hook up. All of this is turned up to a hundred when the party is at a frat, which this particular one will be.

“Ask Hansol.”

“He already said no.”

“Chan, then.”

“You know he’s not good with crowds. Listen,” he looks at you so earnestly it makes your heart squeeze, “I know you don’t like parties. But please, we have to do this. I’ve never been to one ever. First and last time, I promise. I’m just so curious.”

You hesitate. You understand where Seungkwan is coming from. You had the same curiosity as him way back then, and no matter how much you tell him that you already know it won’t be his cup of tea, he really needs to see it himself to swear off them like you. So you sigh painfully and nod, slightly placated by the fact that it makes Seungkwan cheer so loudly and hug you until you can’t breathe, promising he will treat you to lunch for the next two weeks.

Sounds like a good deal.

When you get back home that evening, Jeonghan is frying something on the stove. You seat yourself on the kitchen island, telling him about your day, because he’s always kind enough to ask.

“Oh, by the way.” You tack on. “I’m going to a party this Friday.”

That makes Jeonghan pause, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “A party? You?”

You sigh. “I know. Seungkwan was invited and he’s never been to one before so he kinda talked me into it. It’s at Sigma Tau Nu.”

Jeonghan looks even more shocked. He lets out a laugh. “A frat party.”

You nod.

He whistles low, turning back to his sizzling pan. “Seungcheol’s not gonna be happy.”

That makes you pause. You scowl at Jeonghan’s back. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, not bothering to turn around again. “Nothing.”

“No, tell me. Why won’t Seungcheol be happy?”

Before Jeonghan can answer, another voice speaks up.

“I won’t be happy about what?”

You stiffen, turning to the kitchen doorway. You didn’t hear the front door at all. Seungcheol is covered in sweat, still in his gym clothes, face a little flushed. His gym bag hangs over his shoulder. You swallow tightly, looking away so you won’t stare. Jeonghan, however, has no qualms about speaking.

“She’s going to Sigma Tau Nu on Friday.”

Seungcheol’s head snaps to you, eyes wide. “What?”

You fidget. “Seungkwan was invited.”

“So?”

You can’t help but frown. “So, he’s my friend. I’m going with him.”

“Like hell you are.”

Your jaw drops. Jeonghan barks out a laugh. You want to strangle him, but you’re too shocked at how Seungcheol’s voice has hardened. In fact, his blatant and sharp refusal has only managed to irritate you.

“Why not?” You sound petulant.

Seungcheol is walking to the fridge, pulling out a water bottle. “Because that place is a cesspool.”

“You go there every weekend.” Your voice is accusatory. Something in Seungcheol’s face flickers.

“That’s different.”

The irritation in you is swelling now into more of an anger. You don’t appreciate his tone, or whatever superiority complex he has that makes him think it’s okay for him to go but not you.

“So you can go but I can’t?” Your voice is louder than before. Even Jeonghan pauses, turning to look at you both cautiously. “Why? I’m not good enough for your parties?”

Seungcheol’s face hardens, and you almost back down. He has never, ever, looked at you like that before. “You think that’s what this is about?”

“Looks like it.”

“It’s not.”

“Then what is it about?”

He huffs, annoyed. “I’m just saying. Sigma Tau Nu…. the guys there…. they aren’t good.”

“You’re a guy there.”

His face drops. It’s such a slight shift, but immediate, and his expression turns a muted and stoney smooth. His grip on his bottle tightens until the plastic crinkles a little, but his face is almost forlorn.

“I know.”

You don’t know what to say.

Seungcheol sighs, as if to break the heavy silence, hiking the bag he has on his shoulder a bit further up before walking past you to leave.

“Just don’t go, okay?”

You and Jeonghan are left standing in the kitchen after he’s gone, just staring at each other in the silence.

………………………………

“Seungcheol can fuck off.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep a straight face as you apply finishing touches to yourself. But Seungkwan is not discouraged by your silence, continuing to rant on from where he’s sitting on your bed.

“No, seriously. Where does he get off telling you what to do?”

You sigh and shake your hair out, staring at yourself in the mirror. “He’s just looking out for me.”

That earns a scoff from your friend. “As if. More like he’s looking out for himself. He doesn’t want you to see what a sleazy, pervy bastard he is and how many girls he indulges when he goes out. Wants you to think he’s a good person.”

“He is a good person.” You turn to scowl at him. “He’s been nothing but kind to me.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. You keep going.

“Let it go, Kwannie. We’re going anyway. So it doesn’t matter.”

It really doesn’t, because you’re all dolled up already and ready to go. You’re in a plain black dress, nothing too fancy, thin straps and a flared out skirt. It’s from your freshman year, and to your dismay, it’s a little tighter on you at the bodice, but nothing that doesn’t fit, so you’re rolling with it. Seungkwan also made it a point to tell you twice that you look hot, so you’re taking that as a good indication.

“Ready?” He prompts, you nod.

“Remember our agreement. One hour. You get a feel of the place. Then we leave.”

He nods enthusiastically. You can’t help but smile.

The place is packed. You feel dread already when you and Seungkwan climb out of your cab, but your friend looks alarmingly apprehensive, enough for you to suck up your own negative feelings. You’re already here, might as well try and make this as enjoyable for Seungkwan as possible.

“Come on.” You take his arm, walking up the front steps and in through the open door. The music is so loud, the lights are dim enough that you’re worried about something spilling on your dress accidentally. Seungkwan has a death grip on your hand, and you try to navigate to the kitchen.

“Boo Seungkwan!” The voice is booming, so loud and bright, and it immediately catches both your and Seungkwan’s attention. From the relief on his face, you know instantly that this is Seokmin. He’s grinning wide, and draping an arm around his shoulder is another man with spiky blond hair and sharp eyes. They introduce themselves, Seokmin and his frat brother Soonyoung, and you do the same. Soonyoung watches you closely.

“I’ve never seen you here before.” He shouts over the music, leaning closer to you to speak. You think you would have heard him just fine even without it, but you suspect he is doing it on purpose to get close to you. This may not be your thing, but you’re not an idiot.

“I don't usually come to parties.” You reply, trying to be polite. Somewhere behind your back, Seokmin is putting drinks into plastic cups. You can see the exact path Soonyoung’s eyes take as they drag down your body, lingering on your chest. You almost want to sigh.

“Want a tour?” He offers. “I’ll show you around.”

You want to say no, but a tour would mean you and Seungkwan can see everything quickly and leave. So you nod and turn around, linking an arm with Seungkwan to pull him along. He’s got a cup in his hand, already half empty, and you want to groan. Drunk Seungkwan is almost impossible to deal with.

Soonyoung doesn’t seem perturbed. He just nods and gestures for you two to follow along. You make it through the seas of people in the huge house as he points and shouts names. You don’t even understand half of them, but you’re not particularly interested. Seokmin is trailing behind all of you, and when Seungkwan’s cup empties, he exchanges it for a new one. You wince. Seungkwan is a notorious lightweight. You play drinking games all the time, and he’s always the first one to tap out, leaning heavily on Hansol as he gets dragged out of your apartment. With the way his cheeks are flushing at a concerning rate, you know he’s getting to that point already.

Soonyoung occasionally grips your arm to steer you in the right direction. Seungkwan’s hold on you keeps increasing as you navigate through the house. Then, you’re in the living room, and your eyes find the large, sprawling couch pushing against the far wall, particularly, the man lounging on the corner of it.

He has a cup in his hand, arm thrown around a girl pressed to his side. On the arm of the couch next to him is a guy you vaguely recognise as his gym buddy. You watch him bring the cup to his lips and throw it back in one big gulp, shaking it at his friend when it’s empty, who just snorts and pours more in it from the bottle of clear liquid he’s holding.

His head turns to look at his glass, but his eyes meet yours instead. You see the exact moment he recognises you.

You feel it again, that hollow feeling in your chest, mixed with something else this time. You almost don’t recognise him. His hair is tousled, carelessly swept, his top is sleeveless and tight, silver chain hanging from his neck, pants baggy, legs sprawled without a care in the world. Your eyes are still on each other when the girl on his side leans in and whispers something in his ear, following it up with running her tongue up the side of his neck.

Bile rises in your throat. You look away.

Seungkwan has downed his glass, again, and Soonyoung is gesturing for you to follow him to some other part of the house. But the music is changing into something faster, and Seungkwan’s eyes widen with a gasp as he recognises it.

“This is the first song I know!” He exclaims. You want to snort at how excited he is. “Can we dance?”

Oh no. You open your mouth to protest, but Soonyoung nods enthusiastically and points to the dance floor not far off from where you are. You can feel Seungcheol’s eyes burning holes in the back of your head as Seungkwan tugs you along with him. Thankfully, Soonyoung doesn’t follow, because at that moment, he’s bombarded by another group of people. You’re left with Seungkwan only, which you prefer.

Except, Seungkwan is drunk, and pulling you close so you can sway together. You snort and indulge him, fully aware of how touchy he gets with alcohol in his system. He’s singing along to the song, hands on your waist, bobbing back and forth, side to side. You grin, laughing. You genuinely didn’t imagine yourself having a good time at this place, but being here with your friend is a little fun, though you would only begrudgingly admit that.

The song picks up, getting wilder, and you let yourself go to the music with Seungkwan. He’s laughing and grinning, turning you around so his back is against you. Bad idea, because as soon as you open your eyes, they meet heated, dark ones from across the room.

Seungcheol is watching, and he doesn’t look happy.

The girl by his side is now on her phone, tapping away. He’s not interested, raising his cup to his mouth and taking a long gulp while his stare is trained on you. Your heart pounds. You feel Seungkwan’s hands on your hips, your waist. There’s a voice in your head, and you listen to it, eyes fully on Seungcheol as you reach an arm up and behind you, running it through your friend’s hair.

Seungcheol’s face pinches. His lip curls in an ugly snarl. It catches you so off guard that you immediately turn back to Seungkwan, your heart pounding.

“I need air.” You shout over the music. “It’s too hot here.”

Seungkwan nods and points to the back of the house, past the staircase. You contemplate leaving your friend there. He’s having a good time, and you can let him dance a little before you start insisting that you should leave. Sliding glass doors take you into the patio overlooking the backyard. You take a deep breath.

The patio is less crowded, though there’s still people milling around. There’s a couple a few feet to your right, making out against the wall. You make a face and walk away from them. The cool air is working, clearing your head just a little. You wonder if there’s something in the hot, humid air inside that clouded your judgement, that made you look Seungcheol straight in the eye as you let your drunk friend sway you side to side. What did you want to achieve? Did you want to get a reaction out of him? Why? He doesn’t care about you that way, so what was the point?

Part of you is still annoyed at him because of the semi-argument in the kitchen. The other part is just…. sad.

“You came.”

You close your eyes. You were hoping he would leave you alone for the night.

“I did.” You reply.

Seungcheol stops right next to you, a little closer than you would like. You can feel the heat of his body. He doesn’t say anything, but he stays.

“Don’t worry, Seungkwan and I are just going to have one more drink and leave. I won’t….. disturb you much longer.”

He says your name, a tone of defeat in his voice. Your stomach twists. You turn to him, and for a brief second, your eyes meet his. He has that same look in them, that quiet desolation he had when he was with you in the kitchen. The heat from before, the simmering annoyance, has gone.

“Seungcheol.” Your throat tightens. Your chest is so hollow. “Just make sure to crash in your own bed this time. Okay?”

You turn and walk back into the house.

……………………………………

You don’t know the longest time you’ve gone without speaking to Seungcheol. You’ve never had any reason to count. You do now, and it has been seven days.

Seungkwan thanked you profusely for going with him to the party, vowed never to go again (that made you laugh), then bought you lunch for four days straight before you felt bad and just started paying for your own. You don’t think his experience was worth two weeks of comped meals, but you have a feeling he knows you’re bummed about something, so he keeps offering to pay.

You don’t even know why you’re bummed. You just are. And Seungkwan isn’t the only one who has noticed.

Jeonghan has been walking on eggshells with you too, watching you intently when you’re having a meal together, taking note of the fact that you leave to lock yourself in your room as soon as it becomes close to the time Seungcheol is due back home. It’s easy to avoid him because he himself makes no effort to talk to you either. It should make you glad, since it means you can dance around whatever this suffocating feeling between you two is. But it doesn’t. All you feel is more hollow, more crushed.

Something has changed between you, definitely for the worse. You regret going to that party every single day.

To Jeonghan’s credit, he never asks. You wonder if Seungcheol told him, but then you ask yourself what exactly there is to tell. Literally nothing happened. You don’t even know what to call that little stint on the dance floor, or the heavy way his eyes traveled over you. As for the girl he was with, you’re just upset because the man you have been pining for your whole life has a roster of romantic prospects outside of you. For so long, you had only known about it, like it was some far away entity, but seeing it with your own eyes, some unknown girl sprawled half on top of him, it broke something in you that you don’t know how to move on from. So while you grapple with your own mess of feelings, you just know you need to stay far, far away from him.

But seven days after your self-imposed Seungcheol ban, your roommate has apparently had enough, and he decides to break it. You hear a knock on your door and hum, expecting it to be Jeonghan asking about dinner or something. But instead, a head of thick brown hair pops in through your door.

“Can I come in?”

You're shocked for a good few seconds, before nodding and gesturing to him to do so. Seungcheol lumbers in, hesitating for a second before opting to sit on the chair in front of your desk, turning it around to face you. You’re still frozen in place, crosslegged on your bed, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

You blink. “You didn’t do anything. What are you sorry for?”

He lets out a laugh, but it’s bitter and mirthless. “For everything. For all of it. For telling you not to go to that party. For going there myself and letting you see me like that. For even being like that….”

“Seungcheol.” You protest. “You didn’t do anything-”

“I did.” He cuts you off. “You don’t know it, but I did. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that my drunk, stupid mind thought it was a good idea to end up in your room that night. That I somehow genuinely believed that I could wake up next to you and you would be mine.”

Your heart pounds. Blood roars in your ears.

“I remember all of it.” He whispers, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. “How I felt that night. How badly I just wanted to be with you. No drink was helping, no one…..” He laughs again, shakes his head as if admonishing himself.

“You know what my drunken plan originally was? I wanted to wake you up and finally just tell you how much I love you. But I was so drunk and exhausted that by the time I got to you I just ended up passing out on your bed.”

“And then the next morning. I was awake the second you first moved. And I didn’t want to let go. Call it brain fog, I don’t know. I hoped I could lie there forever and just…… hold you.”

You only break your eye contact from Seungcheol when your vision swims, getting wetter and more blurred.

“This isn’t funny.” Your voice shakes.

“I’m not joking.”

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your frantic thoughts. Never, never in your life did you expect this. You remember that morning again, how Seungcheol’s hand tightened on you, how your ass pressed hard against his-

“You were awake.” It isn’t really a question.

“I was.”

When your eyes meet his again, it’s different. Something sizzles, sharp and anticipatory, like the air around you is afraid to move. But Seungcheol isn’t. He stands up and walks closer to where you are sitting, one knee planting on the mattress, until he’s right in front of you. His eyes are like melting pots of brown, and the intensity in them takes your breath away.

“You felt it, right?” He whispers. “That’s what you do to me, baby. You turn me on so much.”

You can’t move even if you try. It feels like something has severed the connection between your brain and body. When Seungcheol leans in, you don’t resist. Your eyelids flutter when you feel his breath on the side of your neck, just like that morning. His lips brush just so over your skin.

“Cheol….”

He hums, shifts just a smidge, and his lips plant a chaste kiss under your ear. But you don’t say anything more. You don’t know if you can. You’re overwhelmed, both physically and mentally, and the smell of the cherry and sandalwood in his cologne is making your mind foggy.

“Let me show you.” He whispers. “Let me show you how much I love you, just like I wanted to that night, just like I dreamed of for so long.”

You’re human, after all. And you’re weak for him. You’ve always been weak for him, and that’s why you’ve let all of it happen. Him in your bed, you at his party. So you turn your head and let your lips brush over his. You can almost feel his shaky sigh just before he closes the distance between you.

It’s rushed from the start, like he’s desperate. You feel the same, hands reaching up to cup his face, your heart squeezing when you realise that this is finally happening. You’re kissing Seungcheol, the guy you’ve been deeply enamoured with for as long as you’ve known him. The guy you never, ever thought you would have in this way, but still imagined it in the depths of the night when there was no one but you and your fingers. He was here now, on the same bed that you thought filthy things about him in, kissing you like he needs to steal the air from your lungs. He tilts his head, lips sliding over yours, capturing your bottom lip between his. He nibbles softly and it makes you moan.

The sound does something to him, because he curses brokenly and reaches for you. Strong hands grip your waist and tug, pulling you closer. Your legs scramble to find purchase, settling on either side of his as he pulls you into his lap. His tongue slides into your mouth, hot and wet, and you can feel something flutter right in the base of your stomach. Your panties are already damp, but from what you can feel, he’s straining through his sweatpants too. You whine into him.

“Cheol…”

He groans, hands digging into your flesh. They slide under your shirt to run over your bare skin. You instinctively arch into him.

“Love it when you call me that.” He rasps. “Only you do. Only you.”

So you say it again, whisper it into his mouth while his tongue is in yours, and you can feel how his force increases, how he unravels just a little bit more. His hands under your shirt get more frantic, and finally he pushes up, peeling it off your body. You let him, but when the cold air hits your skin, you realise you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Fuck.” He curses softly, eyeing your half naked body. You feel your skin heat under his gaze, squirming a little.

“Beautiful. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

No, I’m not. Your mind immediately supplies. Because it’s true. You can’t help but think of all the girls he’s had like this, in his lap while he runs his tongue down the column of their throats, nipping here and there. He probably feels you stiffen, because he pulls away and looks you in the eyes, his expression cautious.

“What’s wrong?”

You swallow tightly and shake your head, leaning forward to kiss him again. But he pulls his head back before you can, watching you closely.

“Tell me, sweetheart. What is it?”

Your heart squeezes. You try to arrange your thoughts and look for words. You feel Seungcheol’s hands run up and down your back and sides comfortingly.

“I just don’t want this to be a one time thing.” You finally say, because you don’t want to tell him how much doubt you have. How deeply ingrained it is within you that you can never be with someone like him. You’re almost halfway certain that even this, what is happening right now, is some extreme exhaustion-induced dream and you will wake up to a cold, empty bed, but you don’t want to think about that.

Seungcheol’s eyes dart between your own. His face is soft, open, like he’s coming to the slow realisation of what you mean. When he sighs, you feel his breath on your skin. He leans forward so his forehead is pressed to yours. You don’t dare break your stare, even if it makes you go a little cross-eyed.

“I would never do that to you.” He whispers. “I’ve been in love with you for so long.”

Your breath hitches. Your hands on his shoulders tremble.

“I dream about you every night. I lay in my bed and I think of having you next to me. But I never did anything about it. You’ve always felt so far away. Like I can’t dare touch you or you will be tainted.”

Your eyebrows furrow. You watch as Seungcheol’s gaze dims into something like resignation.

“But seeing you at that party with Seungkwan, having you see me like that.” He shakes his head, a miniscule movement. “I knew something had to change. And it had to come from me. Whatever illusion I had in my head about us being just roommates, and me being happy with that, it wasn’t working.”

His hold tightens on you with that last sentence, hands running over your bare back again. His fingertips slide under the waistband of your shorts, just an inch, teasing you. You arch into him.

Seungcheol’s eyes travel to your lips and stay there. The air around you feels like it’s charging up again.

“Saw your little friend draped all over you, and I couldn’t stand it. Why does he get to touch you but I can’t?”

Your lips brush again. Your arms wind around his shoulders. “You can.”

“Hm?”

You can feel your cheeks heat. “You can touch me.”

Something flickers in Seungcheol’s eyes. “Where, baby?”

Baby. A shiver runs down your spine. “Everywhere.”

Your lips meet again. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. You feel his hand cup the back of your head, guide your movements like he wants them to, and it goes straight to your core, tightening it. You know you’re soaking your shorts, and you realise belatedly that you’re not wearing underwear either. Embarrassment hits you fleetingly, but before you can think about it more, Seungcheol is pushing forward to lay you on the bed, your hair sprawling on the pillow. He doesn’t break the kiss even once, fitting his hips between your legs and grinding into your heat. You gasp and cry out.

“You make the prettiest sounds.” He groans. “So responsive. I haven’t even done anything yet. Haven’t even touched you the way I want to.”

But he has. He’s all over you, taking over your every sense, infiltrating you until you can feel him thrumming in the hollows of your bones. You arch into him when he nips at your neck again, teeth digging in teasingly. If he leaves marks, so be it. You will wear them proudly. How long have you spent fantasising about having his lips on you? And here he is now, trailing kisses down until he reaches your chest. His tongue peeks out, smooths over your left nipple so that it is laved in his spit. He blows air on it, making you gasp. You wouldn’t see his smirk if it weren’t for the fact that a dimple cleaves through his right cheek. He pops your nipple in his mouth and sucks.

Seungcheol works you over while you whine and moan. Your hands meet his hair, running through the short ones on the back of his head before burying your fingers into it and tugging. He hums into your skin, and you can feel the vibration. It makes you clench desperately, making your hips buck.

“Cheol, please…”

He pops off your nipple after one last hard suck. You’re already taking in big, heaving breaths, like you’re losing your senses. You feel his tongue run up your sternum.

“What do you want, baby?”

You squirm, buck up again so that it brushes over his crotch. He chuckles.

“Impatient little thing. All you have to do is ask nicely.”

You blink through wet eyes, meeting his half-lidded, heated gaze. “I did. I said please.”

He groans. “Say it again, then.”

You make sure you’re looking him right in the eye as you buck up again. “Please.”

Seungcheol’s fingers hook in your shorts and he tugs them down. His face twists when he realises you’re not wearing underwear. He curses long and low, pushing your legs open to peer down at the mess between them.

“Dirty girl.” He moans. “No panties?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wear them to bed.”

His eyes widen as he thinks back.

“That night….”

You know exactly what he is referring to. The night he spent in your room, spooning you. You shake your head.

“Fucking hell.” His lips crash into yours, near feral as he devours you. You whimper and let him, hooking one leg over his waist.

“Could’ve fucked you back then, right? Just pushed your shorts aside and put my cock in you. Bet you would’ve loved that.”

You would, in your deep, dark fantasies. The thought of just being used by him is so hot that it lights your nerves on fire. You tug his shirt, having had enough, and he immediately obliges, pulling it off. Your mouth waters as you eyes the large expanses of smooth skin stretched over his muscles. You’ve never seen Seungcheol shirtless around the house, he’s very careful about it. The most you have seen is his arms through those tight tanks he loves so much. You run your hands over him as he goes back to licking and nipping at your neck, hooking his thumbs in his sweatpants so he can take them and his boxers off in one go.

His cock springs up and hits his navel. He’s thick, so much that it makes you suck it a long breath. All the blood that has rushed to it has left it aching hard and throbbing, shiny at the head with precum. You’re just wondering how you can even take it all the way in when he slides down your body once again, this time going further than your breasts, until he’s settling between your open legs. Your face flames, fighting the urge to close your thighs when he stares at you like that, licking over his bottom lip.

He runs his fingers down your soft, heated folds, one on each side in a V-shape. He spreads his index and middle fingers, opening you up.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He mumbles, leaning down to barely dance his tongue through your slit. Your legs jerk at the feeling. He’s holding you open, which makes his touch hit deeper, in more sensitive places. You sigh when he flattens his tongue over you finally, licking a thick stripe. His hands position themselves on your inner thighs, keeping you open and his head shifts side to side, running his lips and tongue over every part of you.

He’s amazing at this.

He’s eating you out like he’s starving for it, eyelids fluttering, nearly rolling up, and just the sight of Seungcheol like this, face progressively getting more and more flushed and he leans down and sticks his tongue as far as it can go inside your cunt, has you shaking and crying, your high approaching embarrassingly fast. You want to sob, tell him to stop, that it’s too much all at once, but it feels so unbelievably good that you won’t dare, locking your legs over his broad shoulders, hands fisting the sheets as you wail and cum with no warning. His hold on you is iron strong, holding you in place and not stopping the rapid flicks of his tongue until tears slide down your face and you push his head away. He parts from you with a loud, filthy slurp, licking his lips. He’s breathing hard, but not as hard as you while you’re shaking from your orgasm.

He uses his index and middle finger to wipe the lower half of his face, his chin, the line of his jaw. Then he shifts forward to kneel between your trembling legs again. He taps the two slicked up fingers on your mouth.

“Open up, baby.”

You do, lapping your tongue over the digits as they slide into your mouth, making sure not to break eye contact with him. He watches heatedly as you suck on his fingers.

“Jesus.” He breathes. “Why’d I stay away from you for so long?”

He pulls them out when they’re slick with your spit, reaching down and immediately prodding at your entrance. You sigh and buck up. He smirks, a sexy sight that you barely have time to process before he’s sliding both fingers inside you at once. You gasp and arch, taken aback by the sudden intrusion. He’s already curling his fingers, slowly pumping them in and out.

“God.” You whimper, instinctively reaching down to grab his arm. He doesn’t mind, letting you hold it as he fingers you. You feel his muscles shift with every movement under your palms. As he works you open, he occupies his mouth with your neck and shoulder again, nipping and kissing. You realise Seungcheol is a little bit of a biter, not that you’re complaining.

You’re barely down from your last orgasm, so this one takes an even shorter time to build up. You moan with every ram of his fingers into you, he’s murmuring little encouragements and praises into your skin. His voice is rougher, breathier, and it acts as the catalyst that hurtles you over the edge again. This orgasm is just as intense, if not more, leaving your limbs boneless and your head empty. Your breaths come out chopped and heavy as he slows down, needling out the last remnants of your high.

“Gorgeous.” He hums. “I could do that for hours. Just make you fall apart over and over until you’re begging me to stop.”

Your insides twist. Seungcheol shuffles until he’s seated fully between your legs again. He watches your cunt flutter and twitch, already used and abused. You watch him wrap a large hand around his thick girth, jerking himself harshly a few times. He slaps his shaft over your slit. You gasp and jerk. His eyes shoot up to you and he smirks teasingly.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Too much?”

You vehemently shake your head. “N-no. Want your cock.”

He hums, running the swollen, leaking head through your folds. He rubs it back and forth over your clit. You whimper.

“Sure about that?”

You nod and buck your hips up. It catches against your opening, making you gasp. “Please, Cheol.”

That does it for him, because he’s lining himself up and leaning down over you, pressing his forehead to yours before pushing forward. Your jaw goes slack as he carves his way in through your gummy walls, inch by inch, until you feel his pelvis meet yours.

“God, you’re still tight as hell.” He grits. “After taking my fingers like that too. Why didn’t you loosen up, baby? Wanted to stay nice and snug for me?”

His words are filthy, and never something you ever imagined coming from his mouth, in his delicious, raspy voice. You don’t say anything, brain wiped clean as he chooses that moment to start thrusting. It feels divine, he’s so thick that he stretches and hits all your spots without even angling his hips any which way. His tip nudges your cervix just slightly with every thrust, a fluttering sensation ensuing in your stomach. Everything is so much, so intense, that it’s hard to even breathe. Your eyelids fight to close, but you keep them open, because no way in hell would you miss the sight before you right now.

The muscles in Seungcheol’s arms flex and shift, hands planted on either side of your head to hold himself up. His skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat that shines under the lights of your bedroom. His torso undulates, precise and well aimed thrusts that hit just the right spots. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, face pinched in arousal and focus. His hair sticks to his temples, the rest is messed up because of how much you’ve run your hands through it. The apples of his cheeks are colored a lovely shade of pink that makes him look sensual, his eyelashes curling over his skin when he closes his eyes.

You wish you could burn this image in your mind forever.

He’s watching you just like you’re watching him, and you see the exact moment his face softens.

“Look at you.” He coos. “So pretty. So sexy like this. I imagined this, you know? When you had Seungkwan all over you, I imagined you under me.”

You whimper. The train of thought of last week’s party somehow riles him up again. His thrusts get harder, your skin stinging slightly with every ram of his hips into yours.

“And then there was fucking Soonyoung-” Seungcheol punches out. “Eyeing you like a piece of meat. If he got his hands on you, I would break every bone in his body.”

You mewl and shake your head vigorously. You can barely speak, but you’re desperate for him to know. “There’s no one, Cheolie. Only you. I only want you.”

You claw at his shoulders, tugging him down when you’re unable to resist, planting a searing kiss on his mouth. He groans into you.

“That’s right. Mine. My girl, my body, my cunt. All this is mine.”

You feel his hand sneak between your bodies so he can toy with your clit. It makes you cry out, already so sensitive from being toyed with.

“I’m not cumming until I feel your pussy milk it out of me.” He grunts, thrusts getting sloppier, and you keen. He’s determined to get you there one more time, and with how wound up you are, you know you will give it to him.

He cums at the same time as you, your walls contracting around his sloppy final thrusts. Your sweaty bodies writhe together, pressing into each other and on the bed, his hands digging into your hips and thighs while you rake your nails down his back. Finally, he buries himself deep and stills.

You sigh as tension slowly drains from your body. Seungcheol takes a moment before pulling out, flopping down next to you with a grunt and running a hand through his sweaty hair. You watch him and he eyes you back, a small smile crossing his face. He grips your arm and tugs, maneuvering you so you’re on your side, his front against your back. You giggle. It’s the same position, except this time, you’re both naked.

Silence descends over both of you, your eyelids heavy with slowly encroaching sleep. You’re roused when you hear Seungcheol softly speak.

“I meant it, you know?” He mumbles. “That I’m in love with you. Been in love with you for a while now.”

You can’t help your giddy smile. You rest your hand on the back of his and squeeze. “I have been too, for a while.”

You can feel his smile on the back of your neck. “Good.”

You fall asleep to his lips laying careful kisses on your shoulder.

You just haven’t told Seungcheol yet.

He knows something is up. In fact, he knew before you did. He bent over to where you were curled in your reading chair in the home library, put his nose right to your neck and inhaled deeply, a small furrow between his eyebrows, declaring that something about your scent is different.

“It can’t be my heat.” You had mumbled, too engrossed in your book to really pay attention to what your alpha was saying. “I had one less than three weeks ago.”

You hear him hum. “It’s not your heat. But something is definitely up.”

He never really figured out what exactly the difference was. He liked it though, said it made you smell sweeter, so he didn’t seem too bothered by it. It was only when you were complaining to Chan about the smell of eggs over breakfast that he gave you a weird look and made a quip that froze you where you sat.

“I think you might be pregnant.”

There’s no boundaries between you and Chan at this point. You have known him for over six years after all. And he is the one primarily looking after your health, so nothing is too much information for him. He had bought pregnancy tests that very afternoon, while Seungcheol was still at the office, and confirmed that you were, in fact, carrying his pups.

That was a week ago.

You’re standing on the patio of Seungcheol’s Busan beach house and watching the waves now, breathing in the smell to try and ease the disgusting feeling in your chest a bit. Somehow, knowing you are pregnant made all your symptoms worse. Chan says it has something to do with being conscious about every change in your body now. The bottom line is, you can’t hide it from Seungcheol anymore.

You don’t want to. You know he will be thrilled. You’ve talked about this before. You both want this. But this Busan trip is crucial. If this deal goes through, his business is going to flourish in a way it hadn’t ever since he was a child.

For the last five years, Seungcheol has worked tirelessly to return his empire to its former glory. Too much had been taken from him in a short time by infiltrators that threatened his work. But all that is gone now, done and dusted, and if this deal he has been working on gets signed, it will usher in a new era of prosperity that might push your family to heights they have never achieved before.

For the last few weeks, Seungcheol has been spending more and more time at the office with Seungkwan, trying to smooth everything out the best that they can. Around a year ago, Jeonghan moved permanently to Busan to oversee everything more closely alongside Wonwoo. Having him there meant that things began to run even smoother under his watchful eye, and he was able to expedite their foreign smuggling trade to unprecedented limits. Yesterday, you and your friends came up from Seoul to finalise the last bits of the deal. Seungcheol dropped you and Chan at the house, while he, Mingyu and Seungkwan headed to Gamcheon Port.

You look down at the watch on your wrist. They should be heading back by now. The sun is setting. Inside the house behind you, you can hear Chan putter around, getting things ready for the barbecue Mingyu had planned with everyone for tonight. You wanted to help, but the smell of raw meat immediately sent you hurtling to the sink, where you proceeded to vomit your guts out. After that, Chan had shooed you out, saying he will take care of it.

“Really think you should tell Seungcheol, though.” He pursed his lips. “If you don’t eat the meat tonight he will definitely know you're not okay.”

You had hummed and nodded. “I know. I’m planning on telling him. I just want the deal to be done so he can relax.”

You’re broken from your thoughts when you hear a car pulling up all the way at the back of the house. There’s doors slamming, another car pulling up, more doors, more chatter. You turn and watch through the glass doors as all your friends pour into the kitchen. But your eyes are drawn to your alpha, as they often are in crowded rooms, and it seems his are the same. He scans the kitchen before spotting you through the glass, an immediate smile taking over his face. You can’t help but return it, watching him lumber over to you. He slides the doors open and shut, muffling the excited voices of everyone else, before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You relax as his scent washes over you, immediately chasing away the sick feeling you had for the last hour. Somehow, his scent has become the one remedy to all your pregnancy aches and pains.

Cinnamon and oak trumps sea salt, after all.

“How did it go?” You bump your head lightly against the side of his. He hums into your neck, tongue poking out to lick over your mark. You relax more, letting him support your body weight as you lean heavily on him. He doesn’t mind.

“Great. Way better than any of us expected.”

You smile, relieved. “Is that why all the guys are being so obnoxiously loud?”

You can feel his laugh against your back. “They’re celebrating, my love.”

You hum and pout a little. The wind blows through your clothes as you both slightly sway in it, basking in each other’s presence. There couldn’t be a more perfect time, you know this.

“Seungcheol?”

“Hm.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I know.”

A deep calm washes over you. Not shock, not confusion. Just this feeling of realisation. You have been waiting all week to tell him this. You’ve been hiding your symptoms so well…..

Or have you?

Seungcheol would wake up to the sound of his alarm every day for the last week, shutting it off before turning to you. His hand would find your bare lower back, running over it slowly before digging in a little deeper. You would sigh, relieved, considering yourself lucky that he was massaging the one spot on your body that ached the most.

You never questioned it, because Seungcheol was always touchy in random places like that.

He scented you before every meal. Again, his natural clingy nature led you to believe he was just….. doing that. No reason. But maybe that’s why the meal afterward wouldn’t make you as nauseous as it would otherwise. He spotted you outside just now, found you, and the first thing he did was put his tongue on your scent gland, wiping away the unease in your chest.

Damn.

You let out a breathy laugh. “You knew all along.”

He hums. “Told Chan to get you pregnancy tests. Didn’t expect you to hide it from me, baby.”

You sigh and turn in his arms, which he loosens just enough to let you. His eyes are bright and soft, crinkling just at the corners. There’s a small smile playing on his face, his dimple indenting the otherwise smooth expanse of his cheek. He isn’t mad. He’s never mad, not at you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, tracing his jaw with your thumb. “I didn’t want to stress you when you already had so much on your plate.”

He bumps his forehead affectionately to yours. “Why would this stress me? In fact, this was the ray of light that got me through the last couple of weeks.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face, joyous and giddy. His arms wrap reassuredly around you, and finally, he puts his lips on yours in a kiss so sweet but firm that it makes your head spin. You hum into him, pressing your palm flat to his chest so you can feel the steady beat of his heart. He kisses you until you’re breathless, until you taste exactly like him. You wish he would never pull away.

“I love you so much.” He whispers into your lips. You repeat his words back to him.

Dinner is busy and chaotic, as it often is when all your friends get together. The barbecued meat doesn’t make you feel sick, surprisingly. In fact, your stomach growls loudly, so Seungcheol piles more and more of it on your plate every time he finds it even partly empty. You don’t complain, letting him coddle you and feed you to his heart’s content. He’s always had a problem with you not eating enough. Thankfully, pregnancy has increased your appetite tenfold. And he loves that.

Seungkwan is the life of the party, as always, telling you all about the deal and new people they met in amazing detail, which you appreciate as someone who wasn’t there. Mingyu keeps grilling meat as he eats, as well as popping a piece into his omega’s mouth every now and then so he can stop talking for a second and actually eat. Jeonghan decides to make Ramyeon while Wonwoo looks over his shoulder, their backs to you. Your eyes, sharp as ever, watch as Wonwoo places a hand right on the small of Jeonghan’s back before quickly pulling away. Jeonghan nudges Wonwoo’s hips with his own when he thinks no one is looking. But you are. You always are. You developed a habit of keeping an eye on Jeonghan, just like he used to do with you when he was still in Seoul. Turns out, omegas can be just as protective over those they consider their loved ones. And you are fiercely protective over him, considering the hell he has gone through.

You try to stifle your smile as you spot the shift in their body language. Something definitely happened when Jeonghan moved down here. Maybe it’s because Wonwoo was there that night. The night Jeonghan found Jisoo. Maybe Wonwoo understood in a way no one else did. You don’t know the reasons. And you’re really not looking for them anyway.

When you nudge Seungcheol and point your friends out, he only smirks and nods. If Jeonghan and Wonwoo want to keep their relationship a secret, that’s fine. It is a little unconventional, two alphas, but Jeonghan has always been an unconventional guy. You can understand why he is hesitant though. He can come to both of you on his own time. It took many years to get where he is today. As long as he is happy, he can take as much time as he needs.

You find Chan later when he’s doing the dishes, giving him a hard poke on his side that almost makes him drop his plate.

“You’re one hell of an actor.” You quip. “Lying straight to my face about Seungcheol knowing.”

He grins proudly in a way that makes you laugh.

“I’m surprised you thought he wouldn’t know. He’s your alpha. He smelled it immediately. And even if he didn’t know exactly what it was at first, he put it together pretty quickly afterwards.”

You sigh, leaning on the counter and watching the table where everyone is still crowded, sharing drinks and cigarettes. Seungcheol nurses only a glass of whiskey, no light. He hasn’t touched a cigarette since that one evening all those years back when you said you didn’t like it, that it made him smell different.

That was ages ago.

Later that night, you beg him to take you, and he does, despite your friends being in the neighboring rooms. You don’t really care, not when he pumps slowly and deeply into you, his mouth on yours muffling all your whines and inhaling your sighs. He whispers promises to you, never empty, because there is not one promise Seungcheol has made to you that he has broken. He talks of your future children now, how he can’t wait to see you slowly get round with his pups, how he can’t wait to have a family with you that he can love and protect just as much as he loves and protects you. He licks your tears away, but there is no sadness there. Only contentment. Only love.

He goes slow, afraid he will hurt you, and slowly, just like that, your orgasms crest, your nails digging into the wide expanse of his bare back, his weight and warmth over you grounding you sweetly. When he kisses you, it’s soft and intense, and it speaks volumes of your value in your alpha’s life. You feel that same buzz of happiness, of peaceful bliss, that you have felt abundantly for the last half decade. For so long, there was only fear, but now, there’s more, a profound joy that encompasses the fear and extinguishes it.

You are afraid of many things, but not the abyss of his love. That depth feels like home.

Seungcheol carries you out of the shabby apartment building, stepping over many bodies he left along the staircase on his way up. You don’t know if they’re unconscious or dead, and frankly you don’t care. You bury your head in your alpha’s neck, trying to rid your body of the fear and anxiety you had felt for so many days. Your exhaustion feels bone-deep, and you feel no sense of resolution even if you’ve been rescued.

You only let Seungcheol go when he pulls a car door open and places you gently on the passenger seat. He circles around and drops into the driver’s seat with a long sigh, quickly turning the key in the ignition, putting the car into gear and peeling out of the sketchy place. He looks as exhausted as you feel, and on his pale skin, the fatigue leaves deep patches under his eyes. You cannot imagine the hell he has been put through over the last few days. You look away, unable to bear it. Your blank stare focuses out of the windshield instead.

“Where’s Mingyu?”

His voice is muted when he replies.

“Down in Busan. He’s dealing with the fallout of canceling the shipments from last night.”

You feel something in your chest tighten. Does that mean he knows what you did? Feeding Jihoon information? Your hands ball to fists. When you turn your head to look at him, he is focused on the road. But he probably feels your eyes on him, because he huffs softly.

“I know.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling guilt pierce your chest, sharp and unrelenting. You don’t know what to say, so you just manage to get out the words that have been stuck in your throat for so many months.

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head before you can say anything more, and one of his hands reaches over the gearshift to take yours. As usual, his touch is warm over your frozen fingers. You can feel the scabs over his knuckles, formed because of the blood and cuts solidifying on the skin. You hold his hand tightly, afraid to let go.

“It’s not your fault. It was Jisoo, wasn’t it? He baited you into spying on my computer. I don’t blame you. Hell, even Jeonghan was fooled by him.”

You finally have a name to put to the face. The man with the helix earring. You nod slowly.

“He was Jeonghan’s beta. Well, they weren’t mated yet, but it was pretty damn close. ‘Any day now’, Jeonghan would always say. None of us could’ve imagined….”

His voice dies in his throat, and you see his shoulders rise as he pulls in a deep breath.

“Jeonghan never mentioned him.” You mumble. He only gives a curt nod.

“It’s kind of an unspoken rule that romantic partners aren’t explicitly mentioned until it’s official. Trust me, Jeonghan wanted to tell. He wanted to introduce you two. He thought you would get along really well. He was just waiting to mark Jisoo.”

You don’t reply, bile rising to your throat. You feel hollow, and strangely, in light of everything that’s happened, this information isn’t as much of a shock as it should be.

“Jisoo was to Jeonghan what Jeonghan was to me. A listening ear, a sound mind. He was clever, so he often gave Jeonghan advice on how to handle things. He has been around for a long time, since before my brothers took over from my father. We met him when we were still young. He was family, almost. I guess that’s why it was so easy for him and Jihoon to cause so much destruction without anyone noticing.”

Seungcheol tells you everything he had managed to get out of Jisoo down in Busan. How it was never just Jihoon working undercover, but the two of them together. How Jisoo strategically stayed away from you, how Jihoon purposefully didn’t mention him to you, in case they might need to pull something later on. And they did. Jisoo’s anonymity to you came to their advantage when he was able to smoothly manipulate you, play on your emotions enough to make you spy on Seungcheol’s shipments. Both of them saw how close you were getting, feeling their leverage slip away, so Jisoo played the game to make sure you hated Seungcheol enough to still help them take him down. And you did.

It had been Jisoo who arranged for your kidnapping with Soonyoung, perfectly planned during Seungcheol’s rut, when his best bodyguard, Mingyu, would not be with you, and on the specific day of the month that shipments with Seungcheol’s name arrived on the docks, the ones you had told Jihoon about. If these exact shipments were intercepted, they would have no plausible deniability, and that could land Seungcheol in jail with complete certainty.

There were a lot of moving pieces that came together to make this work. Thankfully, it didn’t, because of the call you made to Jeonghan minutes before Soonyoung got to you.

“You spent your last moments of freedom to warn us.” Seungcheol muses, running his thumb slowly over the back of your hand. “You keep saving my business, sweetheart.”

His voice is light and teasing, but you only shake your head and sniffle. “I was the reason all this happened in the first place.”

“You are not. I told you, even Jeonghan was fooled by that man. Do you really think you stood a chance when Jeonghan didn’t?”

It’s a good point, the fact that Jeonghan of all people was hoodwinked like this. But you still fight the feeling of guilt, and you suspect you will for a long time afterwards. You sigh tiredly. “Where is Jeonghan?”

Seungcheol blinks but keeps his focus forward. “He’s….. dealing with Jisoo.”

You know what that’s code for. Your heart hurts for your friend. You can’t imagine how much pain he must feel, loving someone whose only motive was to destroy everything he worked so hard for. For you, the beta with the helix earring was a stranger who played with your anger. But for Jeonghan, that’s someone he loved for many years, and planned to love for a lifetime.

“He’ll be fine.” Seungcheol squeezes your hand, like he senses your worry. “Jeonghan is stronger than any of us give him credit for.”

You nod slowly, but you don’t know if you believe him.

………………………………………

Seungkwan is a mess by the time you finally get back home. His face is covered with tears and snot, flushed red by the pressure of his own emotions. He hugs you so tight that you’re afraid he might crack a few ribs, but you let him hold you for as long as he wants. You pat his back and he cries in loud, heaving breaths. He keeps blabbering about how worried he was, and you try to console him the best that you can until Seungcheol huffs and finally tears him off you, saying something about how you need to rest.

You sit in the living room for a while, Seungcheol standing in the doorway as Chan looks you over. He puts some ointment on the gash on your leg and says you don’t need bandages, since it’s well on its way to healing already. In the distance, you can hear Seungkwan on the phone with someone, you suspect Mingyu, telling him that you’re back home and that you’re okay. Afterwards, Seungcheol finally leads you upstairs to your room.

You sit on the edge of the mattress, feeling it sink under your weight. It feels like it has been ages since you were last here, even if it has only been a few days. Seungcheol sighs and drops down beside you, running a hand through his hair. You are hit with his scent again, and you remember that he is still, technically, in rut. Even though it’s waning and almost gone.

“This might have been your worst rut ever.” You quip, and he laughs a little before looking at you. His eyes are soft, but tired. It looks like every muscle in his body is pulled taut. You push up towards the headboard, gesturing for him to do the same.

“Lie down with me.”

He should have protested, like he did that day when you came to see him in his room. But too much has happened, and you know Seungcheol’s mind weighs heavy with it. You know he has missed you, just as you have missed him. So he just nods.

He drapes himself carefully over you, your legs framing his torso, his face burying into your neck. His hands gently enclose your sides and hips. His weight feels grounding and sure on you, and it quietens the buzzing under your skin. You feel his breath hit the mark on your neck, and you shiver at the feeling. The mark he put on you. You remember how close you were to losing it, how close Seokmin came to erasing Seungcheol’s ownership of you. Your chest twists at the thought.

“What is it?” Seungcheol mumbles, feeling you tense up under him. You bite the inside of your cheek, hesitating. If you tell him, he will lose his shit.

Seungcheol pulls his head up enough to look at you, his nose nudging your cheek. You sigh, still hesitant.

“Soonyoung took me because he figured out a way to break our bond.”

Seungcheol blinks a few times, processing the words, before he pushes himself up on his elbows to hover over you and look at you properly, his thick brows furrowed. “What?”

“The man in the room,” you avoid looking into his eyes, “was Seokmin. The….. the alpha I told you about.”

You had mentioned Seokmin very briefly to Seungcheol a few weeks ago. It was casual and offhanded, and Seungcheol had only snorted and waved it away, saying you were his, so it didn’t matter.

Now, you see his eyes darken. You wonder again if you should just stop here, but you know Seungcheol won’t let this go. You swallow and stare up at the ceiling.

“The idea was to have Seokmin bite over your mark, and that it would break our bond and form one with him instead.”

That makes Seungcheol scoff. “It doesn’t work that way.”

You feel heat creep up on your cheeks. You still don’t look at him. “It does if our bond isn’t…… consummated.”

You can feel him stiffen over you, but he doesn’t reply. You lay in silence for a bit. His eyes are still on you, but you pointedly avoid meeting his gaze. You get more and more unnerved the longer he stays silent, until finally, Seungcheol sighs deeply and lowers himself again, his face pressing into your neck once more. Finally, he speaks.

“I should’ve killed him.”

You relax a smidge and shake your head, even if it’s stiff and choppy. You run your hand through the hair on the back of his head, trying to placate him. Seungcheol’s hands are still on your hips, and you can feel his hold tighten.

“Did he touch you?”

You shake your head immediately. His hands are traveling up your sides now, stopping just below your breasts, large hands enveloping either side of your ribcage. Your lips part and you breathe deep.

“But he wanted to,” Seungcheol continues, his voice breathy, deep, barely above a whisper. “He wanted to touch what’s mine.”

Your legs, draped on either side of your alpha’s hips, tighten a little, knees digging slightly into his waist. With every word, Seungcheol’s breath hits the mark on your neck, the mark that’s now tingling. You tilt your head up when his lips make contact with the skin, your eyelids fluttering. Something electric and tight is coiling in the base of your stomach. You feel like your breaths are getting heavier.

“Maybe it’s my fault.” His voice reverberates through your skull, raspy, almost like a growl. “Maybe I should’ve taken you long ago, so he wouldn’t even dream of doing this. Should’ve fucked my knot into you ages ago so you were wholly, truly mine.”

You mewl at his words, caught off guard by how dirty it sounds. But your opening is clenching, you can tell, arousal building in your core as Seungcheol’s touch grows heavy and imposing. It feels like the temperature in the room is rising, aided by your and his heaving breaths. Seungcheol’s tongue runs insistently over your mark and your scent glands, bathing you in his pheromones. His waning rut looks like it’s intensifying, dense and charged in the air. Ever so lightly, his hips cant into yours, and you feel it, hard and insistent, on the apex of your hips. You whine again.

“Such pretty noises, baby.” He whispers. “Always wondered what you would sound like under me. So sweet, my love.” He grinds again, just shy of your core, pressing a little but not nearly enough. “You want it?”

You nod furiously, feeling like your voice has failed you. You don’t know if you can even think of words right now, so you dig your nails into his clothed shoulders, and you let out a long, pathetic whine. Seungcheol groans into your neck.

“You smell so good when you’re turned on, omega.” His hips have found a slow, lazy rhythm, dragging over your outer lips, a teasing sensation that has your own pelvis jerking, trying to get him where you need him the most. You don’t even know why you want him there, you’ve never felt anything like this before. All you know is that your whole body is buzzing, and if you don’t feel him against you properly, and soon, you will lose your mind.

“Seungcheol…..” You whimper, and your alpha hums, his lips traveling up, teeth nipping softly over the angle of your jaw. His hands, large and warm, slide under your shirt, and they feel like fire on your bare skin. He grinds again, and you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. You wiggle, try to shift. You want more so badly, but you don’t know how to get it.

“Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

Then he shifts just slightly to the right, and he pushes his throbbing erection against you again, sliding right between your clothed slit. You gasp and arch when he rubs and presses over your tiny little nub, your arms wrapping tightly around his broad shoulders as you shake at the new sensation. Seungcheol chuckles, and you can feel his smile against your cheek.

“Feel good?” He whispers. You sigh when he does it again, and you clench so tightly that it constricts your hips and legs around him. Something is running down between your legs, and you flush at the feeling. Seungcheol groans again.

“I can smell you, omega. Fuck, you’re wet for me?”

You nod shakily, blinking to try and wave away the thin film of tears coating your eyes. It just feels so good, like your head has been emptied and all you want is to feel him hump you like this for hours and hours. But your omega whines, scratches at your chest. It wants more, it wants-

“Alpha, your knot.” Your voice is high and shaky. You almost don’t recognise it. “Please, alpha. Give it to me.”

Seungcheol groans and pushes his hips into you again. It still feels good, but it’s covered in a thin layer of frustration now. You want more, and you think he wants more too, because his hands slide down over your bare sides to hook into your leggings. He peels them and your panties off in one go. You feel your skin rise with goosebumps as cold air hits your legs, but the sensation is muted when large, warm hands run over your calves, then your thighs.

Seungcheol bucks his hips into you again, and you gasp at how much more pronounced the sensation is now that two layers of cloth are gone. His hands run from your knees, up your inner thighs, squeezing at the flesh a little as he spreads them. He presses his forehead to yours, his breath right over your lips as he watches you. His eyes are warm, swirling pools of brown, careful as they look at you.

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

You nod eagerly, and Seungcheol’s lips twist up a little in an amused chuckle. You feel fingers, warm and sure, rub over your outer lips, testing, before slowly running through your wet, messy slit. Your lips part, breathing in deeply. Seungcheol’s thumb slides up to bump gently over your sensitive clit. You gasp.

His touch doesn’t leave you wanting at all. The pad of his thumb presses insistently into your nub, rubbing tiny circles over it as your face crumples and you arch into his chest. His forehead doesn’t leave yours, he watches you intently as he works you over.

“Good?” He rasps. He knows the answer, if your writhing, undulating body under him is any indication, but he still wants you to say it. You can’t though, you feel like your tongue is made of lead. You only nod wordlessly, fisting the sheets under you as he presses over your clit again and again. You feel something prod your entrance, before one thick finger breaches your opening and slowly slides in, down to the last knuckle.

You cry out at the intrusion, Seungcheol’s thumb still rubbing tight circles into your clit as he coos at you, lips brushing right over yours. Before you can really process it, another finger joins the first, and this time, you really feel a stretch. Your eyes widen, jaw going slack as he rubs over your walls. He keeps prodding through you, opening you up, and you don’t know what he’s doing, don’t know that he’s looking for something until his fingers curl up and the pads press right over that something.

You scream, feeling your legs lock as pleasure washes over your whole body in waves. You shake and cry through it, distantly hearing Seungcheol groan with approval as his fingers press harder and firmer over the little spot, thumb still sliding wetly over your clit. You feel like you’ve blacked out for a second, your whole body trembling as whatever this feeling is finally ebbs down, leaving you light and twitchy. Seungcheol is watching you closely, a ghost of a smile gracing his face. His cheeks are flushed.

“That was beautiful. You look so pretty when you cum, baby.”

You’re still gasping for breath, feeling how hot your entire body is. Your left leg kicks with the aftershocks. Seungcheol chuckles. You feel him shift, realising his fingers are still inside you. He pulls them apart just a bit, scissoring them, and your walls stretch. Your eyelids flutter and you sigh.

“You want more?”

You nod, biting your lip shyly. He laughs a little again, laying a tender kiss on your cheek.

He fingers you faster this time, pulling them in and out, adding a third one until you feel like you’re full with him, gasping and crying under his hold. You’re writhing so much that he has to wrap his free arm around your waist, holding your body tight against him. He whispers absolutely filthy things into your ear, telling you how long he has wanted to feel your insides like this, how dirty you sound drenching his whole hand and making a mess on the bed. The thrusting of his fingers gets wetter, squelching noises that have you whining and burying your face in his neck. He lets you, coos at you, keeps fucking his fingers into you until your weeping and crying, another orgasm barreling through your body, leaving you dizzy, shaky, breathless.

His tongue runs over your cheek, licking up the salt that leaks from your eyes. He pulls his fingers out and runs his wet, messy hand all over your sopping pussy. You twitch when he brushes over your abused clit, whimpering, digging your fingers into his biceps. Then he pulls his hand up and buries all three of his fingers into his mouth, closing his lips around them. He groans as his eyelids flutter.

You watch him with fascination, feeling your cheeks heat at his actions. He pulls them out with a pop, licking over them a few more times, like he doesn’t want to miss a single taste. You feel your now empty cunt clench as you watch your alpha taste you like this. You wonder what it would feel like to have his face buried between your legs. You feel dirty just thinking about it. You can't stop your hands from reaching up and weaving through his thick hair, pulling him down so his lips crash into yours.

Seungcheol moans into your mouth, his tongue parting your lips to slide against yours. You taste yourself and it makes you whine into him.

“Nasty slut.” His voice is harder, sharper. Your stomach jolts. “You like tasting yourself like this?”

You whimper and nod, still sucking on his tongue. Seungcheol lets you, using this moment to strip his pants, pulling back when he tugs his shirt over his head. He discards your remaining clothes next, undoing your bra with one flick and ripping it away. He runs his eyes all over your naked, sweaty body, and you watch him lave his tongue over his bottom lip. He looks like he wants to devour you, and you quiver at the feeling.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, his hands running over your skin. He reaches your breasts, pinching your nipples enough to make you gasp. “And all mine.”

You gaze hungrily at the naked expanse of his chest, stretched and smooth, a hard set of abs, the little happy trail that leads to his cock. He’s huge, throbbing and flushed deep pink, glistening at the tip where he leaks. A vein is pulsing along the shaft, angry and insistent, but no part of you is worried. Your lust-addled mind is convinced you can take him. You want him to stuff you full so badly, stretch you out around him until you can’t think straight. Unconsciously, you buck up again. He notices, smirks.

When he kisses you again, it’s more urgent, desperate. His hands are rougher as he tugs you down a little, hooking them under your knees and spreading you more for him. You let him manhandle you however he wants, body slowly going pliant as your omega whines. You are his to take, you trust him completely.

He prods at your entrance, head thicker than anything you’ve taken so far. When he breaches you, you draw in a sharp breath. His thumb finds your clit again.

“Relax.”

He works himself into you slowly but surely, pulling out and thrusting in little by little, kissing you and touching you all over, until he has sunk in all the way to the base. Your toes are curling, breaths coming hard and fast, tears in your eyes. You feel impossibly full, like he has reached all the way through you to your head, emptied your insides until all you feel is him, him, him. He licks over your open mouth, drowning you in himself, groaning into you so wantonly. You’re glad to know you’re not the only one so affected.

“God.” He sounds as wrecked as you feel. “You’re squeezing me so good, baby. Haven’t even fucked you yet and I’m already so close.”

You whine and buck into him, making him spit out a curse. He grinds into you and you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. Seungcheol finally pulls out almost all the way before sinking in again, still slow, the glorious drag of his cock over your walls making you arch high into him. He slides an arm under you, using his other elbow to prop himself up. He widens his knees a bit, and you almost clamp up in anticipation.

He doesn’t disappoint.

He fucks you hard and fast, the wet plopping sound of skin on skin getting more pronounced as he chooses a frantic, delicious rhythm. You cry with every thrust, punctuated moans ripping from your chest as he hits deep. He’s panting with the effort of holding your jostling body in place to take exactly what he is giving you, and you can see the sweat build up on his temples, one drop rolling slowly down the side of his face. You tilt your head up and run your tongue over it, tasting the salt as it invades your mouth. He lets you do whatever you want, moaning in encouragement, focused on ramming his cock into you again and again, your cunt already molded to his shape, squeezing deliciously over his shaft.

The whole room is sweltering hot, filling up with yours and his mixed scents in a way that makes you heady. The bed shakes back and forth, its frame always so sturdy but not enough to withstand the power of his thrusts without squeaking with every intense movement. He’s so big that he doesn’t have to shift the angle in any way to hit that sweet spot inside you. Every drag of his cock brushes right over it, like he was made for your little pussy. The thought turns you on so much that you wrap your arms tightly around his sweaty body, nearly delirious as you tilt your head up, right under his nose.

“Alpha,” you gasp, “bite me.”

Seungcheol snarls and doesn’t hesitate, opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into your now healed skin, right over where he already put his mark on you. Your eyes roll, your omega howls, and your orgasm barrels headfirst into you, knocking all the air out of you as you squeeze pathetically around his cock. He fucks you through it, moaning and groaning about how good you feel like this. Your rim stretches as his thrusts get sloppy, and you realise that the base of his cock is swelling rapidly, preparing itself for the omega under him. He is licking hungrily over your now fresh mark, his grip on you tightening so much you think your bones might crack. But you’re delirious under his weight, and you’re ready for him.

He groans and curses, voice breaking as he finally bullies his knot into you, shuddering as his orgasm washes over him and bathes your insides. You watch him with bleary eyes, feeling his muscles twitch and jerk under your sweaty palms. His eyes are squeezed shut, plump and swollen lips parted as he rides the waves. You can’t help but reach up and kiss him deep. He kisses you back with equal fervor as he finally comes down, breathing heavily.

The air is humid, thick, as you both try to catch your breaths. Seungcheol’s kisses turn soft and slow, less desperate as he takes his time. You wrap your arms tightly around him as he shifts to lay down on his side, his knot still locked inside you. He sighs and relaxes as you stroke his hair. He tugs the blanket over both of you, entrapping the warmth under it so you won’t get cold. You’re so tired and fucked out, you can’t stay awake even if you wanted to.

You fall asleep with the gentle scent of oak in your nose.

…………………………………..

When you come to, you’re alone in bed.

You turn on your back and stretch, wincing at how sore your hips are. You flush when you think of why that is, all the memories from before you slept coming back to you. A glance to the window tells you that it’s dark outside, but Seungcheol is nowhere to be seen.

You sit up slowly, realising that the sticky mess between your legs is gone. Did he clean you up? You flush at the thought.

There’s a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers next to the bed that makes your lips twitch with amusement. You take two quickly, finally swinging your legs over so you can get up.

Your movements are sluggish as you trudge to your wardrobe and pull on the comfiest and warmest clothes you can find. Your limbs are still stiff, and you really want to just stay in bed, but you also want to find Seungcheol and curl into him, wherever he is. You don’t know if it’s because you broke a physical barrier, or if it’s because you were away from him for days and scared that you would never see him again, but you feel like you need him more now. Like you need to be around him at all times.

You lumber down the staircase, still drowsy, wondering where exactly your alpha could be. Your mind and movements are stopped short when you enter the kitchen to find Jeonghan sitting on the island, a transparent glass with murky brown liquid in front of him. There’s no one else there, just him.

He looks up when he hears you, eyes widening. He immediately gets up to walk closer to you, wrapping his arms tightly around you in a hug. He smells like alcohol. You stiffen.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is frail, wavy. “I’m so sorry, doll.”

Your heart squeezes and you hug him back, eyes falling shut. You realise that Jeonghan blames himself for what happened, because he was the one who unknowingly gave Jisoo the information he needed that led to your kidnapping. In a way, it feels the exact same as your guilt with giving Jihoon sensitive details of Seungcheol’s business, except you are sure it feels ten times worse for Jeonghan, who put his heart and soul into this empire, and had way more at stake than you did.

“It’s okay, Jeonghan.” You mumble into his chest, patting his back softly. “It’s not your fault.”

Jeonghan only squeezes you tighter and shakes his head. You can feel a very slight tremor in his body, and that makes you pull away a little to look at him. Up close, the sight of him is heartbreaking. His hair is messy and limp, like he’s been tugging at it. The bags under his eyes are so prominent that you’re afraid he might drop at any moment. His eyelids are rimmed red, bloodshot, and you wonder how long he’s been crying. His lips are dry and chapped. He looks like a wreck.

You coax him to sit down again, asking him if he’s eaten. He shakes his head mutely and you quickly spring to the fridge to see what you can whip up for him right now. You’re surprised to find a lot of leftovers in boxes. Mingyu must’ve made all this before he left for Busan. You heat some chicken and rice, setting the plate in front of your friend. Discretely, you pull away the glass of whiskey that sits in front of him. He’s too busy staring off into space to notice.

Jeonghan eats slowly, more so picking at the food than actually putting it in his mouth, but you don’t force him. His eyes are hollow and blank. You sit with him quietly as he manages to eat at least a quarter of the plate. You will take it.

You can hear the front door open and close, followed by a familiar voice. It’s sharp and questioning, and you wonder if he’s on the phone. Your suspicions are confirmed when Seungcheol enters the room, eyebrows furrowed with tension at whatever someone on the other end is saying. He is wearing a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. It looks like he just rolled out of bed. His face softens when he sees you, but it twists again at his annoyance when he focuses on whoever he is talking to. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand and looks at Jeonghan.

“It’s Mingyu.” He grits.

Jeonghan blinks. “Is it about the shipments?”

Your alpha nods. Jeonghan stands up and holds his hand out. “Let me talk to him.”

Seungcheol is a little hesitant, but he hands the phone over anyway. Jeonghan walks out of the room with it, talking softly into the receiver. Seungcheol sighs and walks closer to you, smiling softly.

“Hi, baby.”

You pout when he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “You were gone when I woke up.”

He settles on a stool next to you, his hand not leaving your waist. He gently rubs over your side. “I know, I’m sorry. I had to take care of some stuff and I didn’t want to wake you. And then Jeonghan came back….”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “He looks awful.”

Seungcheol sighs and nods slowly. “He’s not holding up too well right now.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling his lips on your hairline. You know it will take time for Jeonghan to heal. Maybe he will never be the same again. All you can do is be there for him the best that you can.

In this life, there is always pain, in one form or the other.

Jeonghan doesn’t stay too long afterwards, saying he’s tired and he’s going to try and sleep a little. You insist he stay at the house, but he pushes back vehemently against it, calling one of the drivers outside to pull his car up. Seungcheol shakes his head, so you stop asking, letting him leave on his own terms. Seungcheol knows better, obviously, so if Jeonghan needs to be alone right now, you won’t push. Jeonghan thanks you for the meal and turns to leave, before remembering something and looking at Seungcheol.

“That thing you asked,” he says, “Mingyu said he is taking care of it.”

Seungcheol nods and thanks him. He finally leaves. You give your alpha a questioning look. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, carrying you out of the kitchen while nudging his forehead affectionately against yours.

“Don’t worry about it. Just some work related stuff.”

You giggle and do what he says, the thought slipping from your mind completely before you even reach the bedroom, Seungcheol’s lips are already running up your neck, hands tugging your shirt up and off your body.

Across town, Mingyu cleans the blood off his knife as he stands in a small, studio apartment where he found his target nursing a really bad right hook on his jaw. Seungcheol has always had a mean swing, so it’s no wonder the guy was knocked out cold for hours. He was still dizzy when Mingyu showed up, so the struggle was minimal before Mingyu tilted his head back and slit his throat with one precise slash. He doesn’t know why exactly Seungcheol wants the man dead, but the order had been explicit. Besides, Seungcheol doesn’t kill just for the sake of killing. This man probably did something that really, really pissed Seungcheol off.

Mingyu’s movements are practiced as he cleans up after himself, leaving no trace. It wouldn’t matter even if he did, since no one in this area dared challenge anyone associated with the Choi empire, but Seungcheol’s always been cautious. He makes sure to preserve a finger, like Seungcheol ordered, to send to your dear old brother as a warning to stay far, far away.

Something tells Mingyu that Hoshi is not the type to take verbal warnings seriously, but a severed finger belonging to his closest ally might be enough to shut him up for a while.

…………………………………….

The following months are quaint.

Everything slowly goes back to normal, the same routine you had before it all went to hell. You wake up and have breakfast with Chan, and sometimes with Mingyu. Seungcheol goes back to his office routine, and you join him for lunch on most days. With both Jihoon and Jisoo out of the way, Busan seems to be flourishing. Things are looking up, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

There’re differences, of course. Both good and bad.

Jeonghan is dimmer now, a little more subdued than his normal, snappy, mischievous self. To the untrained eye, he is exactly the same, but you are not fooled, and neither are your closest friends. There was a spark in him that has wavered now. You know it will take him a long time to be normal, to trust again. But Seungcheol is there, reliable and someone to lean on, not just for you but for Jeonghan as well. In moments when you’re all together, watching Seungkwan and Chan bicker about something completely trivial and nonsensical, Jeonghan giggles and tries to egg them on, and for brief stretches, it feels like he’s back to his regular self. This tells you that maybe, eventually, everything will be okay.

Sometimes, you find Seungcheol drifting away too, his eyes glossing over and face blank, stiff. You know that under Jeonghan’s grief, Seungcheol’s might not be as prominent. But he was also betrayed by two men his family clearly trusted enough to let in. They might be gone now, but they caused unbelievable damage to the family before they did. It can’t be easy for him, and you know it makes him less trusting, more jumpy, about every little decision he has to make. So while everyone leans on Seungcheol to heal from their losses, you let Seungcheol lean on you. You let him lay with you at night, breathing shaky as he holds you tight, shoulders loosening after an entire day of carrying everything on his back. You try your best to be his support while he is everyone else’s.

Things change for the better too, of course.

You’ve grown a strange clinginess for your alpha, whining and complaining when he has to leave in the morning, his warmth ripped from your side. He always patters you with a million apologies and kisses, promising that he will try to get off early. Towards lunchtime, you find yourself waltzing into his office. Either he eats with you, or if he is too busy, you stick your tongue out at him and hook your arm into Seungkwan’s, telling your alpha that you are stealing his PA for a lunch date. He watches with amusement as you two traipse out of the room, taking a long lunch just to piss him off.

You always pay for it later when he bends you over his desk and fucks you so good that you see stars, whispering in your ear that he can’t believe how bratty you’ve become, that he needs to fuck the attitude out of you so you’re pliant and pretty again. He doesn’t stop until you’re shaky and teary, spitting out weak apologies and promising that you’ll be good for him again.

(You toe the line on purpose sometimes, when you want it extra hard.)

He notices your heat before you do.

You wake up feverish and sweaty one autumn morning, feeling weirdly jumpy in your own skin. You blink blearily at the wall clock to realise that it’s barely dusk, the sky still mostly dark outside. Seungcheol is steadily snoring away, his bare back to you, the large oak tree tattoo on his back rising and falling with each breath. You run a trembling hand over his skin, feeling his muscles jump under your touch. Unable to help yourself, you press your lips between his shoulder blades.

It’s your scent that tips him off, rousing him from his sleep to find you already breathless, great big blotches of red staining your face. You whine at him, unbelievably turned on as you throw your leg over his waist to climb over him. When he realises, he lets out a sound halfway between a chuckle and a groan.

“Pretty little thing, you’ve gone into heat.” He whispers, voice still hoarse and thick with sleep, letting you grind down on his rapidly swelling cock. You hardly ever ride him, mostly because you say it makes you feel shy. But you’re shameless about it now, grabbing his cock from behind and sinking down on him, so wet that he glides in smooth and easy. You both moan in unison.

Seungcheol watches you bounce on him for a little, alternating between fucking yourself down on him properly and swiveling your hips in little figure eights so that your clit grinds on his navel. He encourages you, gripping your hips to aid your movements. God, you’re so pretty like this, panting over him as you fuck yourself on him, getting more and more sweaty with the exertion, using him for your own pleasure. It’s such a contrast to how you usually are, still mostly shy about the concept of sex, even when he can see how much you enjoy it. But right now, like this, you’re uninhibited by your usual innocence, an embodiment of nothing but pure lust.

It’s depraved, how insane the sight of you on top of him makes him feel, and he quickly feels his self control waning as you whine in dissatisfaction over him. Of course, you can’t do it the way he does it, can’t hit as deep as he does, can’t pick up the same speed. So Seungcheol pulls your body down on him, anchoring your arms to your sides and planting his feet firmly on the mattress before he starts rapidly fucking up into you.

You cum three times just like that.

He knows it’s your heat making you oversensitive, but god, he loves it. He can feel your slick run down his balls, already ruining the sheets under you. Your tears as you cry with every orgasm, which he laps up carefully, reverently. He doesn’t care that the sheets are quickly getting damp, that you’re being a little louder than you probably should. He feels his knot swell, locking inside you as he groans. His own self control is weakened, heady and sluggish because of your sweet pheromones, but he doesn’t mind. He will give you whatever you want, as many times as you want it. He’s not leaving this room until you’re stuffed full of his knots and unable to think straight.

A couple of phone calls later, everyone is already gathering downstairs, ready for a week of working from home. Only this time, it’s Seungkwan who takes care of you two, and not Jeonghan or Mingyu. As if Seungcheol would let any other alpha in your immediate vicinity right now without ripping their insides out. Twenty four hours into your heat, Mingyu is tiredly handing out earplugs to everyone. Seungkwan rolls his eyes at his alpha’s dramatics and snorts.

“It’s not that bad!”

Mingyu gives his mate an incredulous look and huffs. “Not that bad? I can hear it in my sleep. She’s going to be pregnant by the time they’re done.”

Everyone snickers, even Jeonghan.

You’re not sure you can look your friends in the eye by the time your heat has ended. Now in your senses again, you realise they heard everything. Everything. And Seungkwan has no qualms about describing the sounds in disgusting, theatrical detail. You’re mortified, watching your friends crack up at the reenactment. When you turn to your alpha to protest and tell him to make Seungkwan stop, all you see is a large, sleazy, shit-eating grin on his face that makes you smack his chest hard. He only laughs and hugs you tight, your face buried in his shoulder. Everyone is still laughing and jeering. God, you hate them. All of them.

(You don’t.)

You wake up in the mornings and get dressed quickly instead of lazing around and wasting time, because you know Chan will be downstairs waiting to have breakfast with you. You have lively conversations, and sometimes, Mingyu joins you two as well, offering to cook. You think it’s very amusing when the man who is in charge of your security detail puts on a frilly white apron and turns on the stove. But Mingyu is a natural in the kitchen as well. He moves with a confidence that is justified, considering he ends up making all three of you spectacular meals. When you praise him for it, he laughs.

“Well, Seungkwan can’t cook for shit, so one of us has to be good.”

When you tell Seungkwan about it later, he acts fake offended, side eyeing Mingyu, but folding when his alpha coos at him and attacks him with kisses all over. You only giggle as you watch them, feeling some part of you twist, wondering when you will get to that point with your own mate.

Speaking of.

Once you show Seungcheol that you’re really in this with him, he lets go of his hesitation just a little bit. His tone is more carefree, and you see a side of him you didn’t really know existed. He pouts when Seungkwan yells at him for skipping meals or neglecting his health. At the gym, he whines when Mingyu manages to deadlift more than him, and you can’t help your idiotic smile as you watch him complain to Mingyu when it gets too hard or too much. You’ve made it a bit of a habit to watch him in the home gym, which he thinks is endearing and Mingyu thinks is “telling”. You have no clue what he means, but then he wriggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you gasp, scandalized. Seungcheol pulls him into a headlock until he protests and apologizes. You only laugh as you watch them.

They rag on each other like brothers, and it warms your heart to know Seungcheol is so close to the people in his circle, and that they all genuinely care for him in return too. It puts you more at ease, knowing that he’s not completely alone after all. He’s built a family with these people, and they are the perfect example of the fact that family doesn’t end with blood.

He is less tentative around you too, holding your hand as you both walk, his fingers enveloping yours. You notice his tendency to always have an arm on your back or gripping your waist, like he’s afraid you will slip away. Even when you lean in just to whisper something to him, his hand will find its way to your hip, holding you closer to him than might be necessary, making heat crawl up your neck, your knees just a little bit wobbly when you feel the familiar heat of his palm just above your tailbone.

You like how he is possessive in physical ways, but not mental ones. He holds your opinion in high regard, even asks for it sometimes when it’s you, him, Jeonghan and Seungkwan talking about a new project or alterations to old ones. You often feel like you don’t have much to offer, but he dismisses that immediately. He says you have a way with words, probably because of how well-read you are, and when you work with Seungkwan to draft a letter for an organisation they are teaming up with, he showers you with praise, saying he should just fire Seungkwan and hire you instead. You know he’s joking, and so does Seungkwan, but that doesn’t stop him from pouting and whacking Seungcheol over the head with a heavy folder.

It’s shocking, and no one will believe you, but you think Seungcheol is so cute sometimes.

Then there’s the other side of him, the one that you have never seen in your presence, but have heard about often. You hear of it when Chan tells you about some things that go awry during work, or when Seungcheol has to physically step in to keep people in line. When Chan gawks a little as he tells these stories, you realise Seungcheol’s muscles really aren’t for decoration. You are a little shocked by it, and that makes Mingyu snort.

“You have me as your security detail. Why do you think Seungcheol doesn’t have a bodyguard as well?”

You tilt your head, considering it. “I never really thought about it.”

Mingyu shakes his head and smirks. “Because he doesn’t need it.”

The thought makes you shiver.

You see glimpses of it sometimes, too. When he answers a stressful call as you’re sitting in the backyard with him. His tone gets sharp, voice deeper as he talks into the phone. He sounds harsh, calculating, and when he spits at whoever is on the other end to do his damn job right, you can’t help how breathless you feel, something sharp and tight coiling in the pit of your stomach.

You feel sick in the head for it.

One morning in the beginning of March, you wake up later than usual and come downstairs to find Seungkwan and Jeonghan in the kitchen as well, talking and laughing with Chan, sitting on the stools around the kitchen island as Mingyu cooks. They both have laptops, tablets, and a few files littering the kitchen island before them. They all greet you, boisterous and joyful, and you giggle.

“What are you guys doing here?”

Seungkwan taps on the laptop in front of him and answers without looking up. “One week of working from home.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

Jeonghan looks up, confused. “He didn’t tell you?”

You sit down next to Seungkwan, waiting for the alpha to elaborate.

“Seungcheol has a rut coming this week. Usually we all hunker down here during it instead of the office. Me and Mingyu run point and Seungkwan just stays downstairs. Business can’t stop for a whole week, you know.”

You are surprised at the information, blinking at him. Jeonghan shifts a little, and you can sense he’s slightly uncomfortable now.

“I thought you knew and you’d be up there with him. That’s why we didn’t call you down for breakfast.”

All of them are quiet now, appearing a little awkward as they try to look anywhere that’s not you. You feel anxiety and doubt creep on you. You thought you had made progress with Seungcheol. Hell, all of your friends were convinced you would help him with his rut. You’re his fucking mate. And he didn’t even tell you.

Embarrassment claws at you as you get up to leave, but Seungkwan is quick to catch your wrist.

“Don’t.” He warns. “He’s in rut. He didn’t tell you because he doesn’t want you there. I’m sure he has his reasons, but if you go up there now, it might not end well.”

You grit your teeth. “I want to speak to him.”

“Do it after his rut, then.”

Jeonghan nods. “Seungkwan is right. You aren’t going to get anything out of him like this anyway. No alpha is in his right mind during ruts. I'm sure you know this.”

You huff. “Fine.”

When Seungkwan lets go of your wrist, you mumble something about getting fresh air and leave out of the back door to trudge down the gardens. You still feel shitty about it, and very doubtful. And you have this strange buzzing right under your skin, like ants crawling over you. It’s disconcerting, and you run your hands over your bare arms to try to ease it, but it doesn’t help. Your bite mark itches, and you wonder if this restlessness is because you know your mate is rutting and you’re not there.

You hate it.

You walk around aimlessly until you reach the back of the house. There, you spot two figures down by the stream, sharing cigarettes. You squint and try to make them out, realising one of them is Jihoon. The other one you can’t appreciate properly, but then he turns his head and you see his side profile, the tiny silver ring piercing the helix of his ear, and you freeze.

It’s him, the beta that showed up to the office. The one that told you why Seungcheol mated you.

You take a few steps back, slipping into a cut in the brick side wall of the house so they can’t see you.

Who is that man? Why is he here? Why is Jihoon talking to him? You know this man works for Seungcheol, and you also know he must be someone important, because he knew about the exact circumstances you were mated under. Only a select few people knew about that. You never mentioned what happened in the office to Seungcheol, of course. Is this man part of the inner circle? If yes, then why is Jihoon speaking to him? He had made it explicitly clear that he had no connections with the inner circle, which is why he was struggling with taking Seungcheol down.

Then you handed everything over to him on a silver platter.

Guilt assaults your senses, sharp as ever. It is a regular occurrence now, living with this feeling. You feel it with every spark of joy, like a dark companion lingering over your shoulder, spoiling any happiness you might feel when you’re with Seungcheol. With every passing day, you try to work up the nerve to tell him what you did, but you can’t bring yourself to. It took you so long to get where you are with him. The thought of ruining that paralyses you.

What would he think if he knew you snooped? He would hate you, of course. He risked everything, even your life, to save this business, to save the people who worked for him. And then he spent every day afterward trying to make up for using you as a sacrifice. There’s no doubt in your mind that if you are the catalyst to his destruction, he will never, ever forgive you. Just the thought has your omega whining and scratching at itself. You absolutely would not be able to stand Seungcheol’s disappointment in you.

Then there is the fact that for the last few months, you haven’t heard a single peep out of Jihoon. You know he said it will take a while, and you anticipated a few weeks at most. But it has been a long time, and a naïve, optimistic part of you wants to believe things just didn’t work out and Jihoon gave up, so you just hope against hope that it never comes to that. That you never even have to tell Seungcheol all of this. It will be gone, buried, and everything will remain normal like it is right now.

It won’t be that way, of course. You know this. Life is rarely ever that ideal.

You huff and walk back inside, feeling even worse than when you went out. You still have questions about why that man is here. How did he even manage to set foot on the estate? Does he know Seungcheol or one of the other men more personally? Does he handle some part of the business too? You have so many questions, and his presence is making warning bells go off in your head.

Your bite mark is still tingling, verging on a burning sensation, and your anxiety is through the roof. You want to see Seungcheol so badly, to smell him and simmer down as his scent filters into your nose. He’s the only one who is capable of calming you. And you also want answers about his secrecy regarding his rut. You want to know that you didn’t make this into more than it was in your head.

Fuck it.

You can hear everyone still talking and laughing in the kitchen as you sneak quietly up the stairs to where you know Seungcheol’s room is. You’ve never been inside, and it’s in the opposite corridor to where yours is, but you know the exact door you’re looking for. Even if you didn’t, the second you step into the hallway, his scent floods your nose. Your throat tightens, knees wobbling a little. It’s dense, way more than usual, like an assault to the senses. You hesitate, wondering if you should just heed Seungkwan’s words, but the second you shuffle back, your omega whines. You want to see him. No, you need to see him.

You knock on the door with an open palm, three slow bangs as you breathe in more and more of him. You can hear shuffling inside, then the clinking of the lock. You lean off the door and it swings open. You try not to collapse on your knees right there.

He looks disheveled, dark hair springing up everywhere all over the place, falling into his eyes, a thin layer of sweat shining on his hairline. He’s shirtless, and your eyes trace down hungrily over large expanses of pale, stretched muscle. He’s so flushed, from his chest all the way up his neck, his ears, and settling pretty on the apples of his cheeks. His sweats hang low, and if you look a little too carefully, you can make out the outline of his-

He groans, immediately pulling the door back closed until only his head is visible through the crack.

“W-what are you doing?” His voice is torn, raspy. You feel your mouth dry.

“I wanted to see you.”

It sounds ridiculous now, despite how rational your reasoning was in your head before. You can’t think straight, his pheromones clouding all your senses until you want nothing else but to crumble in front of him.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You have to go. I- I can’t talk right now.”

You swallow thickly. He closes the door a bit more until it is held open just enough to let sound come through. Your omega screams in protest and you take a step forward.

“I just thought-”

He groans, and it sounds pained. “Step back. Leave.”

Your face twists, and you can feel tears spring into your eyes. “Why don’t you want me, Alpha?”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen at the shift in your tone, and he immediately pulls the door open again. His hand closes over your arm and he tugs you inside, closing it behind you. You sniffle, eyes running over him again. You feel like you can’t think straight under the dense hold of his pheromones. You can’t help it when you place your open palms on his bare chest, and you watch the way he bites his lip.

“Don’t you dare think for one second that I don’t want you, omega.” He rasps, and you can feel his hands travel down your sides, squeezing at them. His touch is heavier, more assertive than usual. Your breath stutters. The whole room reeks of him, and you feel lightheaded just smelling it.

Seungcheol lowers his head to your neck and noses over your bite mark. You mewl at the feeling. You feel yourself clench, something wet forming between your legs, and the assault of new sensations scares you a little. You’ve never felt this way before.

“Fuck.” He groans again, his hold on your hips tightening. He tugs you forward a little with his grip, and you gasp when you feel something hard and insistent against your lower stomach.

“See how bad I want you? Do you feel it?” His breath hits the mark on your neck. You tilt your head to give him more access. You feel greedy for it, digging your nails slightly into his shoulders. He grinds against you a little, his erection insistent against your hip. You feel his tongue lick a thick stripe over your bite mark, and you can’t help but whine loudly as your eyes roll up at the feeling.

“Alpha, please.”

Seungcheol’s groan is so pained that you can hear the agony in it. He pulls his head away, looking up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath as he loosens his hold on you.

“I can’t, sweetheart. Not like this.”

You feel petulant when you pout and blink up at him. “Why not?”

He chuckles down at you, reaching a hand up to brush back your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “You’ve never done this before. I can’t have your first time be when I’m in rut.”

You want to argue with him, you’re so turned on, but he’s right. This is all new to you, and you can’t imagine how it might feel if you go all the way. You felt a single pang of arousal and it scared you. What happens when you take it further? You’re not an idiot, you know what to expect, but you are realistic about your own inexperience.

“You have to leave now, my love.” Seungcheol says, running his hands almost hungrily over your body one last time, and you can hear his breathing getting heavier. “If you stay longer, I’m not sure I will be able to hold myself back.”

You nod a little, no matter how badly you don’t want to leave him like this. So you try to placate yourself, reaching up on your tiptoes to lay a kiss on his jaw. You see his eyelids flutter, exhaling shakily at the feeling. You can’t torture him more, so you turn and exit through the door, giving him a small smile just before you close it.

When you get back downstairs, everyone immediately smells Seungcheol on you. Mingyu whistles low and chuckles, shoving a forkful of egg into his mouth.

“His self control is insane.”

You only laugh, heart still racing.

………………………………

Three days into Seungcheol’s rut, you get an unexpected phone call.

You’re surprised to hear his voice, and it takes you a second to reply, a stilted ‘hey’ leaving your mouth. Your brother chuckles.

“Still mad at me, kiddo?”

You feel your lips crack a smile. “No. I can’t be mad at you, Soonie.”

“I’m glad. Do you wanna meet up? Maybe we can eat together or watch a movie. Like old times.”

You do feel relieved that Soonyoung isn’t holding on to whatever grudge he created in his head against you. And you do feel uneasy about how your last meeting with him ended. So you bring the idea up with Jeonghan that very afternoon, since you can’t go directly to Seungcheol. He hesitates a little.

“I don’t know, doll. The last time didn’t go well.”

You nod. “He’s still my brother, Hannie. I don’t want to cut him off. He’s the only family I have.”

Jeonghan sighs and nods. “Okay. What do you want to do then? Lunch? A movie?”

You smile, excited. “I’ll ask him.”

Soonyoung proposes lunch, which makes things a little difficult since Jeonghan has to tend to business during daylight and Mingyu is at the house for Seungcheol. Jeonghan ends up making some calls and arranges for someone else to provide security, a tall alpha with platinum blond hair who looks almost like a prince.

“This is Jun.” Jeonghan introduces him, and he gives you a small smile. You nod back. “He’ll be with you the entire time. It’s daytime and a public restaurant, so I don’t think it should be much of a problem. But Seungcheol wants someone there, just in case.”

“I understand.” You smile, nodding in thanks when Jun holds open the car door for you. Once you’re settled inside, Jeonghan leans against the open window and gives you a stern look.

“Seungcheol isn’t keeping tabs this time like he usually does, and Mingyu isn’t there. Keep your eyes peeled for anyone suspicious. Be careful, okay?”

“Always.” You smile at him, so he huffs in finality and steps back, nodding at the driver. You turn out of the driveway.

The restaurant Soonyoung chose is a place you often got takeout from when you were still living at your childhood home. You loved the food, and so did he, wolfing down a concerning amount whenever you watched movies together. You haven’t been there in person yet, there’s still a lot you haven’t seen of Seoul, but the smell of the food is nostalgic, and it makes you smile. You spot Soonyoung on one of the tables next to the window. None of his men are inside, but you spot them through the window across the road when you sit down, extremely conspicuous as they mutter in their phones and walking talkies. You snort.

“Don’t think we need that much security, Soonie.” You say in way of a greeting. He only smiles.

“I think we do, but I’m sure you don’t. You’re a changed woman now.”

You sigh tiredly, deflating. “I just sat down, can we not do this?”

He chuckles and raises his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.”

You order extensively off the menu, as you two always did. It feels like reliving old times, but with new vigor. You talk and laugh with your brother, reminiscing over old memories.

“I miss it, you know?” He says, pushing his food around. He looks like he’s deep in thought. You hum and nod.

“I wish we could do it again.”

“We can.” He offers, eyes flicking up to you. You feel a giddy smile break over your face.

“I would love that, Soonie. Let’s plan something.”

He shakes his head, eyes still trained on you. “No need to plan. We can do it today.”

You hum a little thoughtfully. “We could. I’ll have to call and let Jeonghan know, though.”

“No need for that.” Soonyoung’s voice drops lower as he repeats himself, and the tone makes you freeze. You look up at him, suddenly feeling a small pit in your stomach. It feels like the air has stilled, and you can hear warning bells go off in your head, the kind you get when you feel like you’re in danger. Instinct, Mingyu calls it. And he always tells you to hone in on this feeling, to never ignore it. That this is the feeling that will one day save your life.

You feel it now.

Your eyes dart around the restaurant. Nothing is different that would make this feeling make sense, the waiters weaving through the tables, people eating, talking, enjoying. You look out of the window, at the men standing across the street, both yours and Soonyoung’s security team. Except, you can’t spot Jun, or any of the other men who made up your security detail. One man catches your eye, and you feel ice flood your veins. Even from afar, you can see the glint of the helix earring, the dark brown hair, the familiar, unnerving gaze.

“No.”

It can’t be him. Six men came with you in total, including Jun and the driver. This man was not one of them. Which means he is here with-

Your face turns back to Soonyoung, who is watching you carefully. There’s something in his eyes that makes your entire body stiffen. Your fork drops onto your plate with a loud clatter.

“Don’t make a scene, Y/N.”

“How do you know him?” You barely recognise your own voice, trembling, filled with dread. Soonyoung shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s here to help.”

“Help who? You?”

Soonyoung sighs, leaning forward a little. “We’re going to walk out of here and into my car. Let’s not make this a whole thing, okay kiddo?”

You shake your head, looking out of the window again. You still can’t see Jun. You can’t see anyone who you came here with. Your heartbeat picks up.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“No.”

“Please. I won’t make a scene.”

“Leave your phone here, then.”

You can’t do that, and he knows this. You grit your teeth hard and stiffen your legs, looking Soonyoung in his eyes. You know immediately you’re not walking out of here easily. He won’t let you. That man was with Jihoon, now he’s here with Soonyoung. This can’t be a coincidence. It’s time. They’re making a move.

You dart from your chair abruptly, rushing through the tables to the back of the restaurant, bursting through the door to the ladies’ bathroom and slamming it shut behind you, locking it. You can hear some gasps and questioning noises from outside, but you are least focused on them. You have barely a few seconds. With shaky hands, you pull your phone out, dialing Seungcheol’s number. It goes straight to voicemail.

You curse, tears clouding your eyes. You blink furiously so you can see clearer, dialing Jeonghan’s number next. You yelp when there’s a loud bang on the door, the same kind you heard the day you met Seungcheol for the first time. The sound of someone breaking in.

You push into one of the stalls, hearing the steady ring of the phone in your ear as you push the flimsy lock on the stall door. The banging is deafeningly loud, more insistent. Outside, you can hear screaming and scrambling.

“Y/N?”

“Jeonghan!” You can feel the relief wash over you, only a brief second of it. “Listen to me, tonight’s shipments-”

You yelp when you hear the bathroom door break finally, coming down in a loud thud. Multiple footsteps rush in, but you hear Soonyoung’s voice loud and clear over them.

“This is for your own good, kiddo!”

“Y/N!” Jeonghan screams over the receiver. Your heart beats a million miles an hour. Tears run down your cheeks, your knees trembling.

“Hannie, cancel all your shipments!”

You scream when the thin door of the stall breaks clean free with one slam, a rough hand wrapping around your arm and pulling you out. A ragged edge of wood catches your leg, followed by searing pain. You struggle and scream as Soonyoung pries the phone from your hand and hurls it at the opposite wall. It smashes into pieces. He heaves you up, so close to him that his nose touches yours.

“Stop struggling.” He grits. “You need this. That asshole corrupted you.”

“Let me go!”

“Shut up!” Soonyoung shuffles back as you kick and scream. “Look at what you’re doing. Eomma would be ashamed of you!”

You sob and freeze in his hold, big heaving breaths wracking through your body as you weep. Soonyoung uses the moment of pliancy to drag you out of the bathroom. Through teary eyes you can see people crouched under the tables, eyes wide in fear, and men standing around them, holding up guns. You stumble, feet dragging as Soonyoung half holds you up and rushes you out.

You’re still sobbing as he puts you in the back of his car and climbs in after you, signaling to the driver. Once the car starts moving, he pulls you into a hug. You try to push him away, swatting at his shoulders, clawing at his skin. He doesn’t budge.

“Trust me. This is necessary. Everyone will be okay now.”

You can only cry.

……………………………….

Seungcheol feels like his world is caving in.

He knew something was very, very wrong the second he heard commotion downstairs, followed by rushed thuds, and then his room door slamming open. Seungkwan stood on the other side, face pale and horror struck, and he knew instantly that it was about you. It couldn’t be anything else, because under no other circumstance would an omega step into his room while he was mid-rut.

When he hears what happened, he breaks the wooden shelf in the living room.

He knows it’s the rut, the reason he’s being so aggressive. But he thinks that even if he wasn’t in rut, he would still be filled with this amount of red-hot rage. He sees Seungkwan jump at the deafening sound of wood cracking, sees Mingyu put an arm around him and shield his omega a little with his own body. Seungcheol doesn’t give a fuck.

“Who did you send with her?” Seungcheol knows his voice is low and steady enough to send a chill through everyone in the room. Even Jeonghan is affected, staring glassy eyed at the wall, lost in thought. Mingyu answers him instead.

“Jun.”

Seungcheol’s hands ball into fists as he eyes the splintered wood. “Get him here. I will put a bullet in him myself.”

“It wasn't his fault. They killed him.”

Seungcheol closes his eyes, shocked into silence. Jun had a family, a kid. He wasn’t actually going to kill him, maybe just rough him up a bit.

“They knew.” Jeonghan finally says, voice quiet. If the room wasn’t deathly silent, no one would’ve heard him. “That you were in rut. That Mingyu wouldn’t be with her. They knew.”

“Who?” Seungkwan’s voice is small. “It’s not possible. Who told them?”

A million things are happening on Jeonghan’s face, like pieces falling into place. Seungcheol is too preoccupied to question it.

“She said something.” Jeonghan’s voice trembles. Seungcheol thinks it’s the first time he has heard his friend sound this way. He turns to look at Jeonghan, his own eyes bloodshot.

“On the phone, just before he got her,” Jeonghan continues, “she said something.”

Seungcheol’s heart pounds. “What?”

“Cancel all your shipments.”

Seungcheol scowls, confusion racking his mind. He already feels cloudy, disoriented, and he can’t imagine what that has to do with anything. But he trusts you, more than anything else in his life. So he nods.

“Do what she said.”

Jeonghan nods and steps out of the room, already dialing on his phone. Mingyu watches him closely.

“You need to get back in the room.”

Seungcheol sneers. “Like hell I will.”

“Your mind is useless as long as you’re in rut. Soonyoung will probably hide her very well, so it might be a while until we find her location. When we do, I will tell you. But for now, go. I’ll call Wonwoo to track her down.”

Seungcheol knows he can’t argue, so he just nods defeatedly. Mingyu is right. If he wants to be any good at getting you back, he needs full use of his mind and body. He gives Seungkwan an apologetic look before he leaves. Seungkwan only nods reassuredly, but a thin film of tears covers his eyes. Seungcheol has a feeling that his own look the same.

Seungcheol’s world is still caving in.

…………………………………….

The sound of horns honking is something you’ve grown very accustomed to in the last twenty eight hours. Yes, twenty eight. You’ve been counting. Not by the clock in the room, because there isn’t one, but by yourself, ticking every hour off in your mind, going by the sun you can make out through the cracks in the blackened windows.

No one has come to see you since Soonyoung dumped you here and told you to stay put. You know his men are probably lurking downstairs, keeping an eye on the place, but no one has so much as knocked on the door. So you lay on the bed of this tiny studio apartment, watching the window and counting.

Twenty eight hours in, you hear the key in the lock. You don’t bother moving, not until the door opens and Soonyoung steps in, followed by another man. You freeze when his eye catches yours. You slowly sit up.

“Seokmin.”

He hasn’t changed, the same brown eyes, same dark hair, parted down the middle. When he smiles, it’s the same, though a little muted, and not his usual dazzling, blinding one. His voice is soft when he speaks.

“How are you?”

You want to laugh bitterly, but you stifle it in your throat, glancing at Soonyoung.

“I’m a prisoner.”

Soonyoung scoffs, setting down the bags in his hand. The aroma of food drifts to you. Your stomach growls. “You’re not a prisoner. I’m your brother. Consider this punishment for doing something bad. I will let you out when you’ve learned your lesson.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “I did something wrong? Me? Don’t give me that bullshit. I tried the best I could in the situation I was put in.”

Seokmin watches the interaction, his expression forlorn. When you catch his eye again, he sighs.

“You’ve changed.”

You clench your teeth hard, feeling anger rise in you. You want to scream at both of them. Of course you’d changed. You know not to take crap from alphas anymore. They aren’t superior to you. They just like to pretend that they are because it panders to their egos. You will no longer lay down and take Soonyoung’s bullshit just because he hates Seungcheol.

You’ve changed because you have self respect now.

Soonyoung piles the food on a plate he finds in the cabinet of the open kitchen. Then, he places it in front of you on the bed.

“Eat.”

“Fuck you.”

Both him and Seokmin are taken aback, eyes wide in shock. You have never, in your life, spoken to your brother this way. You can smell the moment his scent sours. You don’t look away from his stare, even as it hardens and narrows to a frightening level.

“You’re more far gone than I thought. But it doesn't matter. When that mating bond breaks, you’ll remember who you really belong to.”

Your eyes widen, heart skipping. “What?”

He stands up, a slow smirk taking over his face. “Why do you think Seokmin is here?”

You feel dread spread through your chest, staining your blood, infiltrating it like ink in hot water. You shake your head furiously.

“No.”

Soonyoung tuts. “I think we’re way past that, kiddo.”

You pull your legs up to your chest, a false sense of comfort as your panicked mind goes into overdrive. “What will you do?”

“He will bite you. Right over where that bastard did.”

Your eyes are already tearing up. You frown at him. “That won’t work.”

Soonyoung shrugs. “Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. I have it on good authority from a few professionals that it will, especially since I know you haven’t….. consummated your bond.”

Nausea passes over you like a rising wave. Tears slip from your lash line, sliding down your cheeks in thick tracks. Your face crumples.

“Soonyoung, please don’t do this.”

Soonyoung’s face softens just a little, and for one second, you are reminded of your brother who cared, who did nothing but protect you. The man you looked up to. He reaches a hand out, placing it on your head. An old gesture, a familiar one. You squeeze your eyes shut.

“You can’t see it right now, but you will realise once it’s done that this is what is best for you, I promise. I would never hurt you. You know that.”

How do you tell him that this will not just hurt you, but kill you? If you have to live without Seungcheol, you will die.

You weep silently as Soonyoung whispers something to Seokmin before trudging to the door, disappearing through it without giving you another look. Seokmin closes the door and locks it behind him before sighing heavily and walking to the center of the room, collapsing on the couch.

“You can take some time,” he says softly, “but this needs to be done quick.”

You know exactly why they need to hurry this. Seungcheol is looking for you, you know it. You will hold out for as long as it takes. You know that at the end of the day, if Seokmin decides to use force, there’s nothing you can do. But you will try your best. You will resist. For the first time in a long time, you feel like you have something worth fighting for, and you sure as hell aren’t going to lay down and take whatever he plans to inflict on you. When the time comes, you will fight.

For now, you rest your head in your arms. And you think about Seungcheol.

…………………………………..

Yoon Jeonghan believes that he is a confident person. He has always thought that, because that’s what he was told. He picked up his father’s tricks and business acumen at a young age, and college solidified his personality and how he wanted to deal with people. It was almost like his job and his legacy was written in the stars. He was meant to help run the Choi empire, and he was really good at it.

But when Jeonghan gets that call from you, voice frantic, incessant banging in the background, screaming about cancelling some shipments before your voice is strangled, the dialtone buzzing in his ear, Jeonghan thinks his confidence might have slipped into arrogance. His ears ring as he pieces it together, as he thinks about everything that led to this, and he immediately knows.

This is his fault.

That night, after Jeonghan has called to cancel all shipments and left Mingyu to deal with Seungcheol, he takes a car to Busan himself (he definitely went over the speed limit). He asks Wonwoo to meet him at the docks, to get as many of their men on land weapon-ready as he can, but to stay on standby and not do anything. Jeonghan is nothing if not prepared. As he drives, Jeonghan looks back at the last few months, the decisions he made. The lapses in judgement, his lips running a bit too much.

He has only one person in mind, and a buried, dark, sick part of him knows that he has royally fucked up. This is on him. And now he needs to make it right.

He reaches the Gamcheon Port in record time, parking far out and walking the rest of the way. It’s a large area, too large to scope out, too large to search, but Jeonghan has an inkling. Mingyu calls it instinct, one that Jeonghan has honed over years and years of painstaking work to keep this business alive. And he knows when to follow it. Right now is that time.

Wonwoo meets him near the pier, nodding solemnly. He’s got two guns strapped to his waist, another, longer one with a scope hanging off his back.

“Any trace of Hoshi?” Jeonghan asks.

He shakes his head. “He’s smarter than I thought. He keeps moving all over, so do his men. We can’t get a reliable pattern.”

Jeonghan grits his teeth. “Right. Well, I have a lead.”

Wonwoo follows Jeonghan when he veers left and starts walking towards the hillside of Gamcheon, up to the village that overlooks the port. It’s a steep walk, but they keep a good pace. It’s not well lit, which is to their advantage. Jeonghan doesn’t really want anyone seeing them, ladled with guns, even if the entire area is occupied by their men, and even if it’s very late at night.

“Who are we looking for?” Wonwoo asks.

“Hong Jisoo.”

That makes him stop dead in his tracks, eyes wide behind his glasses and mouth dropped open. Jeonghan stops walking as well, looking back at his friend as he processes the words. Finally, Wonwoo speaks.

“You’re sure?”

Jeonghan nods.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything more, clenching his jaw and nodding. Jeonghan feels it again, the twinge of hurt in his chest, the shame of the betrayal, but he tamps it down. This isn’t about him. He needs to do this for Seungcheol. For you.

Maybe it’s Jeonghan’s instinct that he knows Jisoo is here, maybe it’s the red flags that he had been picking up on periodically and kept dismissing, but it’s easy enough to scope out the few, vacant flats in Gamcheon village which he knows by heart, talk to a few carefully placed eyes, until he finds exactly the place he’s looking for. He doesn’t even bother unlocking the door, just steps back a few paces and lifts his gun, shooting the handle out.

The door opens, him and Wonwoo step inside, and his eyes meet wide, alarmed ones.

He sees Jihoon there as well, and he feels slightly vindicated. Just slightly, because he always felt that something was off about Jihoon, which is why he kept the omega at an arm’s length. But Jisoo…..

His Jisoo. The Jisoo with a silver necklace clipped around his neck that had Jeonghan’s initials carved in the back of the daisy shaped charm. Jeonghan got it because Jisoo loved jewellery, the many rings on his fingers, the tiny round hoop wrapped around the helix of his ear. He knew it would make the perfect courting gift for the beta he was slowly falling in love with. The beta who Jeonghan loved daydreaming about putting a mark on, making him his forever.

The Jisoo who betrayed him.

“You know, if you’re going to squat, you shouldn’t do it smack in the middle of enemy territory.” Jeonghan drawls as Wonwoo quickly side steps him, gun raised. Neither of the men have their guns on them. Jeonghan immediately spots them on the coffee table, along with two walkie talkies and a laptop. They both stay frozen still in the middle of the living room. Jihoon curses. Jeonghan can see the way Jisoo’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t reply.

“Wonwoo.” Jeonghan mumbles. His friend nods and points the gun right at Jihoon.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He sneers. Jihoon just grits his teeth and walks past Jeonghan, Wonwoo right behind him with a gun held to the small of his back. When the door shuts behind them, as much as it can without a handle, Jeonghan sighs.

He walks to the coffee table, picking up both guns one by one and clicking the clip on the base of the barrel so the magazine falls out and clatters to the ground. He kicks at it, and it slides across the room, throwing the gun in the other direction. Then, Jeonghan leans down to look at the laptop. It is surveillance, set up to overlook the dock receiving their shipments for tonight. Jeonghan feels his throat tighten. You were right.

He straightens up again and points his gun at the laptop. Shoots it. The screen dies.

“You aren’t going to say anything?” He mutters in the silence that follows, watching the device simmer a little. “Are you grieving for your failure to take us down?”

“Hannie-”

“Don’t.” Jeonghan can hear how his own voice hardens. He takes a deep breath. “Don’t you dare.”

Jisoo sighs, staring at the opposite wall. “What gave me away?”

Jeonghan chuckles, but it is drenched in bitterness. “Many things. Your friendship with Jihoon that I could never understand. The textbook shooting, they only teach that at the Academy. Your curiosity about the business, how everything worked. I should’ve known from the very start. I should’ve suspected. But the last straw was the fact that you are the only person on the outside who knew about Seungcheol’s rut.”

Jeonghan pauses. “The only person I told.”

This was Yoon Jeonghan’s arrogance. He thought he was invincible. He thought no one could ever manipulate him, the master manipulator. So he let his guard down. He let himself turn a blind eye. For the first time in his life, Jeonghan ignored his gut. He let himself feel Jisoo’s affection, his touch, and he loosened his tongue, thinking it didn’t matter, thinking Jisoo loved him, was loyal to him. But Jisoo was miles ahead the entire time. Jeonghan’s only intellectual equal became the weapon used against him.

Jeonghan steps closer to the beta, the man he spent countless nights next to, the same house, the same bed.

“You wanted us distracted by Y/N’s kidnapping so you could destroy everything down here. So you worked with Soonyoung too? Were you manipulating him? Sleeping with him?”

Jisoo is quick to shake his head as his face twists. He looks at Jeonghan with misty eyes, and Jeonghan feels a surge of anger and grief so strong he wishes he could put a bullet in his own head.

“There was only ever you, Hannie.”

Jeonghan scoffs, but it comes out more shaky than he would like. His heart twists so painfully, he wishes he could bury both of them in the ground right here. He places his gun right at Jisoo’s side, digging it in just enough to make the beta wince.

“Save it.”

He nudges harshly to get Jisoo to start moving, walking to the door.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Jeonghan chuckles. “Not like this. You’re going to tell us everything, what you’ve done so far, where she is, all of it. And once we find her, I’ll put a bullet in your mouth.”

They go down the stairs silently for a few seconds before Jisoo speaks again.

“So that’s it? This is how it ends?”

Jeonghan reaches up to the back of Jisoo’s neck, fingers brushing over his skin as he clasps the silver chain tightly. He applies pressure, and the chain snaps. He can hear Jisoo’s shaky exhale as he pulls the necklace away. His own initials glare back at him under the open sky, the moon making it glint. He hits the final nail in the coffin.

“You’re already dead to me.”

………………………………………

You don’t know how long Seokmin sits on the couch, staring at the ceiling. You stopped counting the hours, because all you could focus on was the roaring of blood in your skull, the ringing in your ears. Tear tracks dry on your cheeks, your eyes burn, and you think you physically cannot cry anymore. You clutch your own arms until the skin under your nails breaks, leaving crescent shaped marks. You don’t even register it. You feel pain all over.

He gives you food every few hours, which you refuse to eat. You only drink water because you feel like you will die if you don’t. He doesn’t say anything otherwise, which you are surprised by, but his face remains stoic, unreadable.

On the second day of this monotony and tense silence, Seokmin finally speaks to you.

“It’s been long enough.” He says, voice barely audible if you weren’t already so on edge. “I gave you as much time as I could.”

“How gracious of you.” Your voice is raspy from disuse, but still sharpened with sarcasm. Seokmin huffs, frowning.

“Please don’t make this difficult.”

“Mark me if you want.” You glare at him with so much venom that you can see his face twist as your eyes meet his. “I will never be yours. I will always be his.”

You see the flicker of anger in his eyes. He stands up, walking slowly to the bed. You press your back to the wall, legs pulled up to your chest. You never once break eye contact. You stare at him dead on. You’re not afraid.

He sits on the bed, one leg folded under him. He watches you carefully, silently.

“How long did we know each other?” He mumbles. “Almost ten years? We were still teenagers when we met.”

You don’t reply, you just stare at him.

“I courted you for years too. If so much hadn’t happened, if circumstances didn’t change, we would be mated by now.”

You want to scoff, but you just sneer instead. “So is that it? You feel entitled to me because you put time into this?”

Seokmin shrugs. You close your eyes so he won’t see the tears that have started to gather again.

“This is the issue, Seokmin.” You say, defeat bleeding into your tone. “No bite mark, no mating bond, nothing can make me yours if you continue to treat me like property.”

You open your eyes to look at him, and you find that he’s already got his stare fixed on you. He doesn’t reply, and you have nothing more to say. He sighs in finality.

“Well, let’s start with the mark.” He says. “And maybe you can learn to love me the way you love him.”

You clench your hands into fists, listening to the hope in his voice. You want to scream at him that it doesn’t work that way, but you suspect he won’t listen. Or he won’t understand. He can’t. He grew up in this family, in this community. He feels entitled to the omega he was promised. You can’t undo conditioning like that. Not with a few words.

It’s time.

Seokmin’s hand closes around your arm, the air stills, sizzles, like static over your skin. You hold your breath, ready to resist.

You smell him through the door. Oak, tinged with the sharp hit of cinnamon. You yank your arm away the same instant the door trembles with a deafening crack, immediately splintering at its hinges. It’s not as strong as the door Seungcheol had previously broken to find you, and if you weren’t so terrified and so overcome with the intense swell of relief, you would’ve smiled at the poetry of it all.

It seems every time Seungcheol wants to get to you, he will have to break a door.

Seokmin jerks up, stiff, and before he can reach for his gun, the second kick to the door sends it crashing to the ground. You don’t move an inch as Seungcheol steps inside. His eyes meet yours, and electricity sizzles down your spine. Your omega howls in your head.

But then Seokmin is moving, and Seungcheol’s eyes shoot towards him. He’s on him before Seokmin can reach his gun. The cracking sound of Seungcheol’s fist meeting Seokmin’s jaw is a little sickening, and it makes you wince. He falls, groaning loudly, and you just know he won’t be getting up again. It takes one sniff of the air to know. Seungcheol’s scent is still dense like it was the day you went to see him in his room. Not quite as potent, but enough. His rut is waning, but he’s not fully back yet. An alpha in rut is absolutely unmatched, and when that alpha is Seungcheol….

He’s lumbering towards where you sit. You watch him lean down to get closer. The same fist that just sent Seokmin into orbit is soft against you, unwrapping your arms from your legs, straightening you so he can get a good look. He eyes the nail indents marking your skin, brushes your hair back to get a clear look at your face. He spots the gash on your leg from when Soonyoung dragged you through the broken bathroom door, still tender but well into the healing stage. You watch him hungrily, like the very sight of him is breathing life into you. He’s sweating a bit, built up on his temples and his hairline. He’s a little disheveled. But his eyes are soft, and his touch is gentle. Just like it always is, just like you remembered and missed.

“Did he hurt you?”

His voice nearly unravels you. You push forward, closing the distance until your lips meet his in a searing kiss.

He wastes no time in reaching a large hand up to cup the back of your head, fingers burying in your hair, tilting it to deepen the kiss, the desperate roll of his mouth into yours. He groans, a sound from deep in his chest, purely alpha and so demanding that you whine in return, fisting his shirt between your palms. You never want to pull away. You want him to devour you whole.

But he rips away from you with a large inhale, keeping his forehead pressed to yours for a good few seconds, eyes heated but melting soft as he watches you. His lip ticks up in a little smile.

“I missed you too.”

You can’t help your breathless laugh, but you spot his hands then. The skin over his knuckles is torn, weeping red. Tiny dark blue bruises bloom on his fingers as well. You carefully take his hand in yours.

“Don’t worry about it.” He immediately placates you, turning your joined hands so he can lay a kiss on the back of yours. Then, he wraps both arms around you and scoops you up. “Let’s get you back home.”

You tuck your face into his neck, breathing him in where it’s the strongest. For the first time in days, you feel your muscles unwind and relax.

You let your alpha take you home.

………………………………

“I’m glad.” Jeonghan whispers over the phone, a smile cracking his face. “I’m so relieved, Seungcheol-ah. You have no idea.”

There’s a small silence on the other end of the line before Seungcheol sighs. “You want me to come and take care of it?”

Jeonghan shakes his head even though he knows his friend can’t see him. “No, it’s okay. I think I have to do this myself.”

When he gets off the phone, he stares into the distance, taking a deep breath. The door of the warehouse is far away, but the entire space is empty. It’s far from the Port, and not usually used, so he knows they won’t be interrupted here. A voice speaks up behind him, jagged and torn, unlike how soft and sweet his cadence usually is.

“Found her?” Jisoo croaks.

Jeonghan turns back to look at him, bound to a chair and hunched over. He can’t possibly lift his bloody, disfigured face. Seungcheol had done a number on him to get the information he needed. Understandably, he didn’t want Jeonghan to do that part.

“Being betrayed like this is enough,” he had said, “you’ve had enough pain to last a lifetime.”

But Jeonghan had still stayed there. Because he felt like he needed this lesson. He needed to see Jisoo get mauled by the person he came to destroy. Because the more he watched, the more Jeonghan’s brain rewired, the more it twisted Jisoo, until Jeonghan felt like he could forget him.

Not today. Not for a while. But eventually.

He’s barely recognisable now, skin cracked, bruised, bleeding. His shirt is soaked, his hair matted. Jeonghan can imagine how much it hurts, how badly Jisoo wants this to be over. Seungcheol was still in rut when he had free reign over Jisoo, and Jeonghan can’t think that felt anything other than searingly, agonisingly painful.

And Jeonghan thinks he still loves Jisoo enough to put him out of his misery.

He picks the gun up from the table slowly, knowing it is loaded, before walking slowly up to the beta. Jisoo watches him with swollen, half closed eyes. He lets out a dry chuckle that sounds more like a pained groan than anything.

“Don’t you think it’s cruel to make you do this?”

Jeonghan doesn’t look at him. He only looks at the gun. “I volunteered.”

Jisoo pulls in a shaky breath. “Smart. You’ll get a cleaner break this way.”

Jeonghan can’t help his bitter laugh. He knows his eyes are shinier than usual, coated with tears. And he knows Jisoo can tell. He holds the gun up, right between Jisoo’s eyebrows.

“Like you care.” He wants to spit it out, but it comes out way more shaky, way more vulnerable than he thought. Jisoo smiles at him through cracked, bloody lips. He knows, of course he knows. His eyes, under all that bruising and all those gashes, are soft. The same eyes from when he laid his head on Jeonghan’s pillow, his dark hair sprawled around him like a halo, eyelashes fluttering as Jeonghan placed his hand on his cheek. It’s a distant memory, like Jeonghan is looking at it through a foggy glass.

“I always cared, Hannie.”

Jeonghan closes his eyes. He pulls the trigger.

The sound echoes, silencing everything else. Jisoo’s struggling breaths are cut off, replaced by dead quiet. The casing clatters to the cement floor. The smell of smoke leaving the barrel hits his nose. Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed as he turns around. When he pulls a breath into his lungs, it’s cold and painful. His grip on the gun is still so tight that he can’t feel his fingers anymore.

He walks out without looking back.

You run into Jihoon in the hallway as you’re leaving your room, and he is quick to remind you to keep your eyes and ears peeled for anything that can help him. To be fair, you’re still not quite sure what exactly you’re looking for, what Jihoon needs, but this time when he reminds you, it makes a tendril of guilt wrap around your throat, a sickening feeling that you can’t shake away.

Things with Seungcheol have been…… stilted. You feel like you’re walking a tightrope when it comes to him, balancing on the thin line between hating him and not wanting to be without him. You have dinner together every night, and then you walk around the gardens together. The colder it gets as the weeks pass, the closer you want to be to him. You’ve realised he runs very, very hot, which is why he doesn’t feel the chill and walks around in just one or two layers. When you curl under the blankets at night, you wonder how good it would feel if he was there too, warm and inviting against your back.

You don’t know if it’s the mark on your neck that makes your omega want him, or if it’s just you.

You aren’t exactly experienced in romance. Seokmin is the only alpha who you have ever thought of in this way. He was warm too, but a different kind. He was bright, dazzling almost, like someone who can carry your happiness as well as his own. Seungcheol is more muted, still warm, but the kind that makes you settle instead of bristling up. The kind that wants to give all his happiness to you instead of carrying any himself.

You identify with him, in a twisted, tragic way. It shouldn’t make sense. You’re poles apart, both in who you are and what you’ve been through. But when he looks at you, something in his eyes resonates. You want to be around him all the time. The same thing he said to you that day. That he wants to be around you. It makes your chest squeeze with giddiness.

Seungcheol is standing on the front porch, his phone held up to his ear, when you finally exit the house. He gives you a smile as he talks to whoever it is on the phone, gesturing to Mingyu, who is standing by the car. You say hello to the alpha as you walk towards where he stands.

“You’re coming with us, right Gyu?” You ask. You’ve grown fond of Mingyu over time. He’s very intimidating at first glance, but he’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met. His omega will be very lucky. He nods.

“Wherever you go, I go.” He says simply, giving you a smile.

You don’t have to wait in the car for long, as Seungcheol joins you minutes later and the car peels out of the driveway. There’s another right behind you, with Mingyu inside, following right after you. You peer out of the window as you leave the estate and travel to the city.

The Choi family actually has a very successful legitimate business outside of their underground activities, as Chan told you some time ago. It’s a tech company, one of the largest in Seoul, and it provides a very easy front for everything else they do. You’re sure if Seungcheol wasn’t dabbling in illegalities, it would still be very good, but what makes the empire great is everything shady that augments it and nearly quadruples its fortune.

The building is huge, in the middle of the business sector, and frankly intimidating. Seungcheol is quick to guide you inside, his office all the way on the top floor. There’s someone sitting at a sleek desk outside Seungcheol’s door, the phone receiver pushed between his cheek and ear as he quickly scribbles something into a notebook. He looks up as you arrive, looking at Seungcheol first before he spots you, eyes widening as he takes you in.

“Seungkwan, messages in five minutes.” Seungcheol mumbles, tapping the reception desk lightly with his knuckles. The man nods rapidly, still talking to someone over the phone.

Seungcheol’s office is massive, spanning over an entire corner of the building. The marble floor gleams, just as the mahogany desk does. There are framed certificates on the walls, some pictures you can’t see clearly from afar, two bookshelves, one that holds thick volumes of something about business as well as tiny trinkets, and another with a wide array of different books. To the right of the actual office, two steps lead down to a sitting area with grey and white couches, a coffee table and shaggy rugs.

“It’s beautiful.” You manage to say, truly in awe of the space. The windows span two whole walls and give a bird’s eye view of the city. You’re so high up it almost takes your breath away. When you turn to look back at Seungcheol, he’s smiling at you, hands in his pockets.

He nods his head towards the corner of the room created by the bookshelf that overlooks the windows. An armchair is fitted into the corner, tilted to the side so whoever sits in it can enjoy the view. It is draped in a soft, fleece blanket, with a smaller table beside it already set up with a plate of sweet treats and a coaster to hold a mug. You gape at it, beelining to the chair immediately.

“You have a reading nook in your office?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “I had Seungkwan put it in a few days ago. For you.”

Your head whips around in shock. You can’t believe it. Seungcheol watches you process it, and you take a shaky breath when you realise he’s serious.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper. You truly don’t know what else to say. His actions are so loud that it’s deafening. He wants you here, with him, because seeing you for maybe an hour when he gets home isn’t enough. He made sure to create a space within his own that would make you feel comfortable. He didn’t have to do this. He could’ve just dragged you along and told you to stay, and it’s not like you could refuse. But he took care to accommodate you in the best way he could.

You almost want to cry.

Seungcheol’s nod is a little jerky, and you can see even from the distance that his ears are turning pink. You look away, fighting not to smile.

The receptionist, Seungkwan, comes in a few minutes later when Seungcheol is settled behind his desk and you’re browsing the bookshelves. He has a tablet in his hands and three different sticky notes on his arms. He walks Seungcheol through his agenda for the day, the messages he has, and appointments that need to be scheduled with his approval. When you scent the air, you’re shocked to find out that he’s an omega.

Once he is done with Seungcheol, he turns and walks closer to you, offering you a hand to shake.

“Hi.” His smile is radiant. “Boo Seungkwan. It’s nice to meet you.”

You can’t help but return his smile. It’s contagious. This close, you can see a pin in his blond hair that is shaped like a tangerine. It’s so cute. Under the collar of his shirt, you spot a mating mark similar to yours. Oh.

“Y/N.” You manage to speak. Seungkwan nods.

“It’s so nice to meet you, finally. Seungcheol never stops talking about you.”

You can’t help but giggle as you hear Seungcheol’s annoyed huff behind Seungkwan’s back. Seungkwan’s hand is soft and warm in yours as you shake it.

“If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?” He adds. You nod again, grateful.

“Get her a coffee please, Seungkwan.” Seungcheol mumbles from where he’s poring over a stack of papers. “Cream and sugar.”

Your face feels hot as Seungkwan nods and leaves quickly. You have never had breakfast with Seungcheol. You haven’t even touched coffee with him around, only with Chan in the mornings, yet somehow he knows how you like your coffee.

Seungkwan comes back a while later with not only coffee but banana muffins as well. Seungcheol refuses when Seungkwan sets food down at his table too, which makes Seungkwan pout and insist.

“I don’t want a cupcake.” Seungcheol scowls at the screen of his computer. Seungkwan rolls his eyes.

“It’s a muffin, first of all. And second, it won’t kill you to feel a little joy.”

“Will you shut up and leave if I agree to eat it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Shut up and leave.”

There’s no malice in either of their voices. You watch the interaction from your armchair in amusement. They feel like brothers who bicker and not like a secretary and boss at all.

“Seungkwan is very nice.” You say when it’s just the two of you again. Seungcheol looks at you and gives you a brief smile.

“He keeps me sane, frankly. He takes care of all the above ground business. He’s pretty much running it at this point. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

You feel a twist in your stomach, and it shocks you. You reprimand yourself in your head immediately. Seungkwan is mated. You can’t be thinking negatively about him like this. But praises for another omega from your alpha’s mouth make you feel queasy.

“I saw that he’s mated.” You manage to say, trying to rid yourself of the ugly green emotion inside you. Seungcheol nods, unaware of the war in your head.

“To Mingyu.”

That shocks you. “Really?”

He nods again, eyes focused on the screen. “They met through Chan, who has known Seungkwan since they were kids. That’s why he’s so good at what he does. He’s been around for years, and he knows how to juggle both sides of the business. He’s family.”

The nausea inside you immediately settles. Seungkwan being Mingyu’s mate is the best news you have gotten all day. You sip your coffee, relaxing into the chair, staring at the cover of the book you picked out. If you weren’t so lost in your own head, you would see Seungcheol’s tiny smile as he picks up the slight sourness in your scent. You’re jealous of Seungkwan, even though you’re trying to hide it.

The thought makes something in his stomach squeeze.

The day goes by at an even pace. Seungcheol leaves the office often for the conference room on the other side of the same floor to attend meetings, making sure to let you know each time how long it will take him. You appreciate the consideration, since being alone in his office does make you a little anxious. Around noon, when he’s in another meeting, the office door opens, and instead of Seungcheol, an unfamiliar man steps in. He has dark, brown hair that’s cut short at the sides, and you immediately spot a silver ring wrapped around the helix of his ear.

He smiles when he sees you, but he doesn’t look surprised at all, like he expected you. “Hi.”

You don’t smile back, turning to your book, shifting slightly. You don’t know who this person is, and you don’t know why he is here, so you would rather ignore him. You don’t trust anyone who works for Seungcheol. You aren’t even sure if you trust Seungcheol himself. He certainly shouldn’t trust you, considering the little scraps of information you are feeding to the person hell bent on destroying him completely.

You try not to think about that.

“You’ve settled in well.” The man comments, walking down the two steps and dropping down heavily on the couch. He’s chewing gum obnoxiously loud, and it’s like nails on a chalkboard for you. The couch is closer to where you are, but his scent is still not too strong. He’s a beta.

You jerk your head down in a nod, staring down at your book without really reading. After a few moments of silence, the man chuckles a little.

“I can smell your discomfort all the way here, omega.” He says.

You stiffen at his words, but you don’t look up. You don’t really know what to say to him, so you stay silent. You can’t stand up and leave, because you will have to walk past him to do that, and you really don’t want to. Seungcheol should be back from his meeting soon. You’re not sure he will be too happy about a stranger talking to you like this.

If he even cares.

“It was your brother, you know.” He says. You freeze. “He was too big of a threat. He had to be taken down a notch, so Seungcheol mated you to keep your brother on a leash.”

Your grip on the book tightens to the point that the page crinkles under it. Your heart hammers loudly, and your breath is caught in your throat.

“Worked out great. Hoshi won’t dare expand now. He’ll have to make do with whatever scraps we leave for him.”

The sound of the door opening is loud, and it breaks this thick, dreadful current that runs in the room. You quickly turn your head away towards the window when you smell cinnamon and oak, hoping Seungcheol won’t see the thin film of tears coating your eyes.

But he looks distracted. He’s got his phone pressed to his ear, Seungkwan holding up a file for him to sign, and when he catches sight of the man on the couch, he immediately scowls and gestures to him. The man stands up smoothly, greets Seungkwan with a smile and nod, and puts a hand on Seungcheol’s arm to lead him out of the room again, probably down the hall to the conference room. Seungkwan follows them silently.

Seungcheol’s voice, still talking on the phone, gets farther and farther before disappearing altogether. You sit like a statue where he left you. A single tear breaks free from your lash line to roll down your cheek as the man’s words echo in your head.

You feel a little stiff as you lower your feet to the ground and stand. Before you can think twice, you beeline to the desk. The computer is still on, and the desktop is filled with multiple tiny icons.

You don’t sit down. Reaching for the mouse with shaky hands, you start clicking and reading.

…………………………………….

“I can’t thank you enough. Really.”

The wind nips at your ankles. You wish you had worn socks. Jihoon waits for you to say something. You don’t.

“I know it can’t be easy, giving me all this information.” He says, softly. “But trust me, you’re doing the right thing. Once I tell my superiors, we can plan something and stifle his operation once and for all.”

You stare blankly down the backyard. The sun is setting, the sky angry with hues of red and orange. You wonder if you are seeing anger in the clouds because that is what is brewing in the pit of your stomach. The strange man’s words are still fresh in your head, like he’s whispering them to you right now.

Seungcheol wanted nothing to do with you. You were a means to destroy your brother. That’s all.

“How long will it take?” You ask.

Jihoon looks a little uncertain, shifting in the lawn chair he is occupying. “I’m not sure. We will send some men to verify the schedules you gave us. Extensive stakeouts at the locations you told me. Our timing needs to be exactly right if we’re going to intercept the exact ships you mentioned. That cargo has to have his paws all over it. If there’s any doubt about who is calling the shots, then his men will take the fall and he will get off scot free.”

You sigh, a little dejected. “Why are they all so loyal to him?”

Jihoon shrugs. “Beats me. They’re all like that. Ready to lay down their lives. I don’t know what he is holding over their heads.”

He stands up then, giving you an encouraging smile. “It doesn’t matter though. We don’t need any of them. You gave me everything I could ever have asked for. You did good.”

You don’t say anything, watching him leave, the cold grass crunching under his boots. You stare at his back, feeling your heart sink.

You, the only one to ever betray Seungcheol.

You know you’re doing the right thing. He took away your agency, he used you for his own personal benefit, knowing he was destroying your entire life to do so. Why? Because he wanted more money? Because of greed that made him crush all your hopes and dreams in the palm of his hand?

You could’ve had it all. You could’ve been Seokmin’s omega. You could’ve lived a good life with him. He could have mated you, given you pups. You would still be able to see Soonyoung every day, considering that the two were best friends. You could’ve had a family.

Now you’re just sitting outside this unfamiliar house, feeling nothing but cold.

When the maid comes up to your room later to tell you dinner is ready and Seungcheol is waiting, you are wrapped in blankets. You tell her that you’re not feeling well so you can’t make it down. When she leaves, you try to get some sleep, but your thoughts, the contradictions inside you, plague your mind like poison. More thoughts creep in, the anger mixing and swirling now with doubt.

For every single day after he marked you, Seungcheol has given you no reason to hate him.

You know now that he brought you here not because of you, but because of your brother. You are nobody to him. He could’ve locked you up in a shabby basement cell and called it a day. But he didn’t. From day one, he has cared for you. Through Chan, through Mingyu, through Dayoung. Even through Jihoon, though he doesn’t know that Jihoon isn’t who he thinks he is.

And through himself, with all those dinners, walks and conversations. He has opened up to you, trusted you with what goes on in his mind and in his business. You have felt his touch, although very fleetingly, on the mark on your neck or the small of your back. You have smelled him, the scent of cinnamon and oak now ingrained in your very bones.

Why would he do any of that, if you were nothing but a pawn in his game?

You hear the door open, and you smell him immediately. You stay very still, closing your eyes. You hope he will see that you’re asleep and leave. You hear footsteps walk closer to the bed, then a dip in the mattress by your side. You don’t move. There’s a small, light sigh, and then Seungcheol finally speaks.

“I know you’re only pretending.”

You can feel your jaw clench.

“For some reason, you don’t want to be around me.” He keeps going. “I don’t know why. Maybe taking you to the office was too much. You’ve been quiet ever since the afternoon.”

A pause. “If someone said anything to you, tell me. They’ll answer for it, I promise.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Slowly, you open your eyes.

Seungcheol is perched on the edge of the bed, his suit jacket discarded, and the sleeves of his plain blue shirt rolled up. He’s watching you already.

“Tell me what happened, sweetheart.”

The petname makes your chest flutter a little. You finally speak.

“Tell me why you mated me.”

You assumed he would be shocked by your words, that he would try to lie to you, but his exhale is one of resignation.

“One of my biggest trade markets is at Busan Port. Over the last few years, because of what happened to my family, we lost pretty much all routes except Busan. All my men were diverted there to keep the trades going. They moved their families down there and settled. Then, your brother started sneaking into my operations and attacking my ships. Killing my men.”

You don’t interrupt him, watching his face closely.

“If I didn’t do anything, all those men out there would lose their lives, their families abandoned. Even most minimally, they would lose their only source of income. Jeonghan suggested I hit Hoshi where it would hurt the most. You.”

He stares blankly at the wall. “Killing you to send a message wasn’t an option. Only this was.”

A shake of his head. “I didn’t want to. I knew I was sacrificing you, but in my head, I thought I could justify it if your sacrifice saved hundreds of families. I regret the way I did it, but I don’t regret having you as my mate.”

His eyes meet yours, pleading, pained. “I don’t know how to apologise for what I did. I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

You look at him only for a few more seconds. Then, you let your eyelids fall shut.

“You should have just killed me.”

You can’t see it, the way his face crumples, or the way he blinks rapidly against the wave of wetness that coats his eyes. He looks away, hands balling into fists.

“I’m sorry.”

He stands up and leaves before you can say anything else.

……………………………….

On your twenty-first birthday, your mother told you that your father had been speaking to his advisor, and they would both love for you to be mated to his son.

You were shocked, to say the least, but not in a negative way. Seokmin was one of Soonyoung’s best friends, so by extension, he knew you pretty well too. He had always treated you kindly, unlike any other rare alpha that managed to cross your path at your home. He was a little condescending at times, but that is an unsurprising trait in your family’s alphas. They are all assholes, but Seokmin didn’t look down on you, and he treated you with respect from the moment he knew you as a child as well as into adulthood.

You were okay with him as a life partner. You were happy, even. And from what Seokmin always said, he was happy too. He came to the house more often after it was made official with your families, with flowers or sweets or anything else he thought you might like. He never touched you, never kissed you. You think a part of him might have felt awkward that you’re his friend’s sister. So he always made sure you were comfortable first and foremost. He gave you a bracelet for your twenty second birthday almost nine months after your official betrothal to him, a courting gift. You wore it every day, only taking it off to sleep or to bathe.

You forgot the bracelet on your bedside table the day Soonyoung shook you awake and rushed you out of bed. The day Seungcheol came.

You often wonder about him now. Three months since you were mated to someone else. You’re absolutely sure he knows. You’re sure everyone in Seoul’s underground circle knows by now. Seungcheol is a big name. The last Choi son. This can’t be hidden news for anyone.

You wonder how he feels about it.

Seungcheol doesn’t ask you to come with him to the office after that night. He doesn’t ask you to join him for dinner. You stay in your room, not feeling any desire to leave. You wallow in your emotions, that now feel like they’re too big to even fit inside your mind. Sometimes you think you might sink into the earth under the weight of them, swallowed up until you’re suffocated, no longer able to breathe.

You miss him.

Just the thought makes your mind twitch and squeeze, pained. How can you miss him? How can you even think about the earth and the oak, the feeling of his hand warm on your back, or that little dimple that tugs on his cheek? He ruined your life. You should have no feelings towards him other than raging, burning discontent.

But then you see the bite mark on your neck in the mirror, and you miss the way he ran his thumb over it, and the shiver that traveled down your spine when he did that.

Two weeks after that night, you hear a knock on your door early in the morning. You’re brushing your teeth, body going rigid when you walk out of the bathroom door to see a head poke into the bedroom. Jeonghan looks amused, watching the way your mouth is foaming, your eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Get dressed, doll. Twenty minutes. Pack an overnight bag.”

He doesn’t say anything more, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared. You don’t have any opportunity to question him, and you suspect he did that on purpose. Your heart hammers as you move quickly. An overnight bag? Why the hell do you need that? You haven’t been away for the night….. ever. Not since the day you were born, and even your birth was at home.

You fret over what to pack, so you just shove as much as you can into a small luggage bag you find in your closet. True to his word, Jeonghan is back in exactly twenty minutes on the dot. He nods and takes the luggage, gesturing for you to follow him. Hesitantly, and with a little bit of nervousness, you do.

You’re happy to see Mingyu outside, and he gives you a bright, comforting smile. You think he knows that you and Seungcheol aren’t doing well, because he’s extra gentle as he helps you into the car. And he might sense your jumpiness too, because just before closing the door, he leans down to look at you.

“Relax.” He whispers.

You nod slightly, comforted by the fact that he’s there. Jeonghan climbs into the car on the other side, immediately sliding down a little to rest his head on the back cushion.

“Get comfortable.” He says. “It’s a long journey.”

“Where are we going?” You ask, because you don’t know if you should have followed him, even if Mingyu is there. Seungcheol isn’t, and that puts you a little on edge.

“Busan.”

Your heart pounds. You did not expect that.

Jeonghan is busy almost the entire time, answering multiple phone calls and making notes on his tablet. You know how involved he is in the business. He is Seungcheol’s right hand man. From what Jihoon has told you, he is as important to the empire as Seungcheol is. He is to the underground dealings what Seungkwan is to the legal side.

He also makes you incredibly nervous, but you don’t really want to tell him that.

You drive for around four or five hours. You shift often, wincing when your hips and legs start aching a little. You aren’t used to traveling. Jeonghan seems unbothered, but he digs into a bag and offers you snacks. You watch out of the window for most of the time, engrossed in the view and deep in thought when Jeonghan finally says, “We’re here.”

Through the open window, you can hear the sound of the sea. Jeonghan isn’t on his phone for once, and he points things out for you as you drive into the city. The view is spectacular. Waves crash white against rocky cliffs, and fishing boats drift in and out of small harbors. Haeundae Beach stretches wide and bright, its sand pale gold under the sun. High-rise hotels line the edge like glass towers watching the tide. Busan is mountainous, so the city rises and falls in steep layers, hugged tightly between the rising hills.

You drive for a little longer, after which the car pulls down the coast and up a winding, narrower road. You can’t even begin to keep track of the unfamiliar drive, so you focus only on whatever you can see. Finally, the car stops in front of what looks like a beach house, a muted wooden pathway going through the sand to the steps leading up to the front door.

Jeonghan opens his door and gestures for you to get out as well. You wince as your limbs straighten, but you’re too preoccupied by the sight and smell of the beach, fresh and cutting against your lungs. You take a deep breath, feeling almost invigorated after the sleepy ride.

A man is walking down the steps towards where you and Jeonghan are. He’s wearing light clothes, breathable so as to let the wind in. Thin, wire-rimmed round glasses sit in the bridge of his nose. He gives Jeonghan a grin and a pat on the back in greeting.

“This is Wonwoo.” Jeonghan introduces him to you. The man gives you a muted smile. Clearly an alpha, but he looks nearly docile. You manage to smile back at him.

From the car behind yours, Mingyu steps out, stretching and groaning. He grins when he sees Wonwoo, walking to him and giving him a crushing bear hug. The man groans.

“Wonwoo runs things out here in Busan.” Jeonghan leans towards you to mumble. You watch Mingyu and Wonwoo scuffle around and laugh with each other. “He also takes care of the house for when Seungcheol visits.”

“This is Seungcheol’s?” You ask, staring up at the place. You shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not as grand as the home back in Seoul, but there’s a very cozy, very light and welcoming vibe to it. You think you might actually prefer this one to the house you live in.

Jeonghan nods and gestures forward, guiding you inside. The other two men follow. “You’ll be staying here for the night. Wonwoo, you set a room up for her?”

Wonwoo nods. “End of the hall. I’ll show you.”

Jeonghan hums. “We can rest for a bit before heading out again.”

You go along with Wonwoo when he gestures at you to follow him. The place is very well maintained, almost like a fancy bed and breakfast. The room at the very end of the hall is where he stops, opening it with a key and asking you to step in. You do.

It’s very neat, cleanly made. It’s obvious no one has touched anything for a while, but a very faint, familiar scent lingers.

“This is Seungcheol’s room. Best one in the house. It has a great view of the sea.” Wonwoo says, pointing to the window. He’s right, the scenery is breathtaking. You bite your lip. Of course you will stay in Seungcheol’s room. You’re his mate. You don’t suppose Wonwoo knows the exact circumstances or where your relationship stands with his boss. So you simply nod.

Mingyu drops your luggage off, and they both leave you for a while. Mingyu tells you they will go out for lunch in two hours, and you assure him you will be ready. You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering why the hell Jeonghan brought you here.

A couple of hours later, you are walking down the long and wide wooden pier overlooking the Gamcheon Port of Busan, Jeonghan and Wonwoo right in front of you and Mingyu behind you. You shiver a little as the wind blows, making your skirt flutter against your legs. It carries with it the smell of sea salt that stings pleasantly at your nose. You cross your arms, taken aback by how blue to water is, how colorful the boats are, and how far it extends, more than your eyes can see.

Many men greet Wonwoo and Mingyu enthusiastically, more stiff when it comes to Jeonghan. When you give Mingyu a questioning look, he jokingly tells you that everyone is always a little nervous when it comes to Jeonghan. You giggle at the thought.

“I’m not the only one then.”

Mingyu laughs.

The port is lively, bustling, with people trudging back and forth with unmarked boxes. The sailors are loud as they toss cargo into and out of their ships. Wonwoo is holding a tablet in his hand, pointing and gesturing as he gives Jeonghan a rundown of everything, most of which you don’t understand. There’s a gaggle of what look like young boys laughing and singing as they work, and you try to tamp down your smile at how cheerful they sound.

They all watch you, curious.

You know their eyes are on you, but the second you turn their way, their heads abruptly jerk to the other direction. It makes you feel a little jumpy and uncomfortable, and when you ask Mingyu why they’re acting weird, he snorts.

“They won’t dare look at their boss’s mate. Not in the eyes, anyway.” He says, casually. “Seungcheol’s a naturally possessive person. Even convincing him to let you come down here was a whole thing. Not because it’s dangerous, no. This is his territory, no danger here. But because that’s too many alpha eyes on you. He’s protective of what’s his.”

You shiver a little, caught off guard by Mingyu’s words. You didn’t expect that Seungcheol’s dislike for people ogling his mate would translate even when he’s not here in person. You can’t help but think of how it speaks volumes of his authority that he’s hundreds of miles away, yet no one here would dare do anything that could tick him off.

You remember Jihoon’s words, his frustration that all of Seungcheol’s men are willing to lay their lives for him. So much loyalty, but why?

Jeonghan is gesturing to you where you stand, beckoning you to him. He’s going back up the pier with Wonwoo, and you rush to follow him. Down the path from the docks, they lead you into a small, rickety looking building, with a wooden sign that has a fish carved on it.

“It doesn’t look like much,” Jeonghan whispers to you, “but Seungcheol always stops by here during every trip. He fucking loves spicy fish stew and grilled mackerels.”

The place is really modest, and completely empty. You suspect they cleared it out because they knew Seungcheol’s men from Seoul were coming. There’s an elderly woman sitting at the counter, who looks up when the tiny bell above the door rings, signaling your entry. Her face breaks into a large smile.

“Hannie!” She gets up slowly, her figure slightly hunched as she shuffles around the counter. Jeonghan is already taking long steps to meet her there, bending down to let her hug him. It’s a warm sight, and you can’t help but smile. When they break the hug, the woman reaches up and smacks Jeonghan hard on the head, making him wince. You can’t help your gasp.

“Nearly four months since I’ve seen your face, boy.” You had no idea her frail voice could sound so stern. “I’m that easy to forget about?”

“Not at all, halmeoni!” Jeonghan whines, whines, as he rubs his head, and you twist your mouth so you won’t grin with amusement. “I was just really busy.”

She scoffs, spotting Wonwoo right behind Jeonghan, who just shrugs sheepishly.

“And Seungcheol? Where is that fool? I have a bone to pick with him. Took a mate and didn’t even tell me-”

“She’s here, actually!” Jeonghan is quick to interrupt her. You stiffen, feeling dread creep on you as Jeonghan walks back to where you stand. You widen your eyes at him, as if to say ‘don’t you dare’ but he just gives you a mischievous grin and steps behind you, grabbing your shoulders and nudging you forward a bit. You smile shakily.

“Good afternoon!” Your voice is way higher than normal. Behind you, you can hear Mingyu snort. You wish you could kick him.

The woman blinks, eyes huge behind her thick rimmed glasses. You fiddle with your fingers nervously as she eyes you for a second. Then, her face breaks into a large, warm smile.

“Well, aren’t you just the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in years.” Her voice is so soft and inviting. Behind her, Wonwoo grins. You blink a few times, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Come and sit, honey. What are you standing there for?” She gestures you forward, ushering you to a low table in the center of the room. Your heart is still racing a little, but you sit down regardless, crosslegged on the mat. The woman sits down with you.

“Let me look at you.” She says. You just smile politely and fidget a bit as she stares. You’re not used to being around elderly people. You never knew your grandparents. But there’s such a comforting air about her, like coming home after a long day. You can’t help but feel a bit at ease. She tuts a little after a few moments.

“That fool doesn’t deserve you. Can’t even come and see his halmeoni, didn’t even tell me about you. He’s just like his father.”

You blink, realisation hitting you. Is this Seungcheol’s grandmother?

Before you can reply to her, she’s already rising to her feet again, flustering about getting food made quickly, and that she wasn’t expecting you. The other men seat themselves around the table as she disappears behind a curtain, but Mingyu follows her to the back, offering his help.

“Is that really his grandmother?” You ask Jeonghan, eyes wide. He smiles and nods.

“But-” You have so many questions, you don’t even know where to start. You stare around at the place again, how ancient it looks, how nondescript. Jeonghan chuckles.

“She hates Seoul. Says she can’t fathom living in the place. She wanted to stay by the coast, something about not being able to sleep if she can’t hear the sea. She never moved down there, no matter how much Seungcheol’s father insisted. So he just stopped. This is the safest place in all of Busan, right next to the port. The place is teeming with our men. No one can harm her here. The family just tried their best to make it here every other week to visit. It’s become a bit tough when it’s just Seungcheol running everything now, so he hasn’t been down here much. I kind of get why she’s mad.”

He shrugs and rubs his head again. It really was a hard blow. You huff out a breath.

She comes back quickly, Mingyu in tow holding a large, steaming pot. She shoos at Jeonghan to move so she can sit beside you, and you smile shyly when she fills your plate herself.

She asks you all about you and Seungcheol, and you try to keep the answers as moderate and easily digestible as you can. She’s so incredibly sweet, filling Jeonghan’s plate too, gesturing for Mingyu and Wonwoo to eat as well. You can’t possibly imagine telling her the circumstances of your mating, so you just tell her that Seungcheol knew your older brother, and that’s how you met. She coos over the story, and Jeonghan looks on in amusement as you smoothly lie through everything she asks.

When she fills your plate for seconds, you politely try to refuse, but she just tuts and swats your hand away.

“You need to eat more!” Her voice is stern, but you can hear her love and concern bleeding through. “Look at you. Is he not feeding you right? That fool. You can’t carry his pups like this!”

You flush at her words, effectively going silent and just letting her pile on as much food as she wants. It’s not difficult to eat even more, since it really is absolutely fantastic. If you were Seungcheol, you would drop everything to come down here, if only for how delicious her cooking is.

You stay there for a long time. Dinner is followed by dessert, and then the men have to tend to some business. She takes you out back to a small garden, proudly showing you all the vegetables she has planted. You enjoy her company, genuinely, because the longer you stay with her, the more you learn about Seungcheol.

“You know, his mother was convinced she was having a girl.” She whispers to you almost conspiratorially. “She had all these pretty dresses made. Even chose a girl’s name. And then poof! Out popped another boy.”

She chuckles. “She couldn’t let it go. So she would keep treating him just a little bit like a girl. She would coddle him so much! My son always told her to tone it down a bit, but she didn’t.”

She tilts her head as if in thought. “Sometimes, I’m glad she didn’t. I think the reason Seungcheol is so caring now is because he was never forced to be the big, bad man.”

You are silent as she speaks, trying to absorb her words. She takes your hands gently, staring down at them. Hers are wrinkly, more soft, more scarred. The contrast makes your heart squeeze.

“I don’t know what it is, but you are a little mad at him.” She says.

Your eyes go wide. When you open your mouth to protest, she gives you a stern look.

“I may be old, but I’m not a fool. Something is stilted between you. But that’s okay. It will fix itself, because you are his mate. The mark might just be on you, but know this, child, he is yours just as much as you are his. He might be the alpha, but you call the shots. You tell him what to do, you tell him what you want, and he will fold. Trust me. I know that boy. He will give his life to protect his mate.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just stare at your hands in hers. You are hit by a wave of sadness, sweeping over you as her words float in your head. How do you tell her the reality of what’s really happening? How do you tell her that you are struggling to trust him?

And how do you tell her that he absolutely cannot and should not trust you? Not when you are about to be the singular agent of his destruction.

You are still lost in your head as you say your goodbyes to her. The sun has completely set now, stars twinkling over the curtain of the dark sky. She gives you a shawl, a deep maroon, soft cloth that feels glorious against your skin, and you thank her. She kisses your cheeks.

“Don’t be a stranger.” She smiles. “And next time you come, bring that idiot with you.”

You can’t help but laugh, nodding. Jeonghan is waiting outside, Mingyu and Wonwoo nowhere to be seen. He gives her a hug too, promising to come more often, and then you both trudge back to the docks, waving at her one last time.

Your chest feels heavy as you walk. You pull the shawl tighter around your shoulders.

“Jeonghan?” Your voice is weak.

“Hm?”

“Tell me about Seungcheol.”

He hums, not at all surprised by your request. It seems that nothing really catches him off guard.

“I met him in college.” He begins. “I knew of him way before then. My father worked for his father. You know how it is, generational bonds.”

You nod.

“But I really, properly met him in freshman year. The first thing I thought of him was how boisterous he was. Smart, but loud. He walks into a room and immediately makes his presence known.”

You nod. It’s true. Seungcheol has that aura about him.

“But I didn’t count on how insightful and perceptive he was. He doesn’t seem like the type, you know? He’s rough around the edges. But he’s caring. He cares. Sometimes, I think he cares too much. I tell him he can’t survive in this life like this. But I think his care is why it all somehow works for him.”

“Is that why everyone is so loyal to him?”

Jeonghan smiles down at you. “I think so. On principle, most crime families aren’t overly involved in the lives of their men. Most of the time, someone works for you and you pay them. Simple. But Seungcheol…”

He huffs, but it’s more amused than anything. “He wants to know what his men are up to, what they need. He feels personally responsible for all of them. It’s a huge weight to carry, but he still does it. There’s a fight in him to make sure the people under his name are all cared for, even if it means making sacrifices.”

“That’s why he marked me.” You mumble.

Jeonghan hums. “He regrets it, you know? Every day.”

You stop at the pier, watching the port. In the dark, the lights twinkle as people still move around, wrapping up for the day and preparing the night shipments that need to roll out. At one of the boats, Mingyu is laughing with a man you don’t know, helping him lug a huge crate. Someone drops something and curses, his partner bonks him lightly on the head.

“That’s why you brought me here.” The cogs in your brain are turning. “To show me what he did all this for.”

Jeonghan nods. “I know things haven’t been good with you two. And I suspected they wouldn’t get better if you just stayed in that house all the time. You needed to come out here. You needed to see why he did what he did.”

The breeze blows over your body again, cold and nipping. But you remain warm under the weight of the shawl, and the feeling that blooms in your chest as you watch on. You don’t say another word, and Jeonghan doesn’t push on it. He stands with you, hands in his pockets, as you both bask in the cool night air, letting the salt fill your lungs.

…………………………………….

When you re-enter Seoul the next afternoon, after another five hour car ride, you ask Jeonghan to take you to Seungcheol’s office and not home. He merely nods, but you can see the little uptick of his lips. He makes a call, and when you pull up to the high rise tower, you find Seungkwan waiting for you at the entrance.

“Hi!” He chirps, his smile as bright as ever. You can’t help but return it. It softens when he sees Mingyu, who lays a quick kiss on his mate’s forehead. He hasn’t seen Mingyu in over a day as well, considering he was with you in Busan. Your heart flutters at how cute they are.

Seungkwan and Mingyu lead you up, standing quietly in the elevator with you. You realise you haven’t seen Seungcheol since that night, when you told him you would rather be dead than be with him, and guilt tears at your ribs. You spent all of last night wide awake in his bed in Busan, asking yourself over and over where you want to see your life going. And after everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve heard from people, and the very limited time you’d spent with Seungcheol yourself, you had come to a conclusion.

You want to at least try.

You know you’ve made a huge error by telling what you did to Jihoon. But you can come clean about it. You can tell Seungcheol the truth and apologise. They are just shipment dates. You’re sure Jeonghan can change them, shift them around so that Jihoon is thrown off and back to square one. You can tell them all the full truth and pray that Seungcheol will forgive you.

“Relax.” Mingyu says suddenly, breaking the silence in the elevator. He always does that, tells you to relax when he can feel that you’re nervous. And strangely, knowing that someone senses your anxiety, acknowledges it, does help. You swallow tightly.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

Seungkwan scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. He’ll be thrilled. He’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past couple of weeks.”

You managed to laugh shakily at that. Your heart hammers when you step out of the elevator. Seungkwan nods at you to go ahead, so you walk towards the office, standing at his door. You take a deep breath before tentatively knocking. You hear a distracted hum of affirmation, so you open the door and poke your head in.

Seungcheol looks shocked to see you, his hands freezing over the keyboard. He blinks a few times.

“Hi.” Your heart is hammering so loud, you wonder if he can hear it. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” He replies immediately, standing up. You step inside, looking around a little. Everything is just as it was when you first saw it.

“Did you just get back from Busan?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. We uh, we came straight here.”

You try not to flush hot at the confession, but you can see his own ears color pink, and that eases you a little.

“I met your grandmother.”

Seungcheol groans. “I bet she had a lot to say about me not visiting.”

“She smacked Jeonghan.”

That makes him laugh, his stiff shoulders easing a little. You feel your lips lift in a tiny smile. He watches you for a few moments.

“Are you hungry?”

You shrug. “A little.”

“Okay. There’s a good place not far from here. I’ll have Seungkwan-”

“I’ll eat if you eat with me.”

He freezes, head raising to look at you. You feel a bit embarrassed, being bold like this. But your guilt and your need to make things right is pushing you. So you keep plowing forward.

“I want to apologise for what I said that night.” You stare at your feet, feeling nervous. “I was too harsh on you.”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “Please don’t. You had every right.”

You let out a mirthless laugh. “I was just…. angry. I was very angry.”

He nods solemnly, silent.

“I want to forget about it.”

You can see the moment his eyes soften, beautiful melted chocolate orbs. He nods more resolutely this time.

“There’s nothing I would like more.”

Seungkwan makes a call, and almost an hour later, you’re sitting in the balcony of a beautiful restaurant not too far from Seungcheol’s office. There’s no one else on the balcony, though there are people eating inside. He rented the whole space out. You love the view, and the fresh air. You tell him about your Busan trip, how much you loved the beach house and how calming you found it.

“It would be so wonderful to live there.” You say offhandedly, but Seungcheol nods with complete seriousness.

“We can do summer trips. The beach is wonderful around that time.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I thought you didn’t have time to go down there?”

He shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “I’ll make time.”

Your stomach erupts in butterflies. You don’t know what to call this feeling.

The moment is tranquil, with soft wind blowing through your hair and Seungcheol’s eyes warm as they look at nothing but you. It’s almost like you were never apart from Seungcheol at all, and conversation resumes from where you left off. You are so relieved, so happy about it, that you convince yourself you will talk to him tomorrow, tell him about Jihoon and what you did. You can’t destroy this moment right now. You just made up with him. You don’t know if you could bear his hurt.

The fatigue of the drive starts catching up to you when you return to the office, so Seungcheol calls Mingyu and tells him to get the car ready to take you home. He walks you out himself, helping you into the car as Mingyu climbs into the passenger seat.

“You’ll come see me when you get back?” You phrase it like a question. Seungcheol smiles and runs a delicate thumb over your wrist. It makes you shiver a little.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

You don’t stop smiling the entire way back.

…………………………..

Things settle into somewhat of a routine for a while. You don’t go to the office with Seungcheol, but you visit in the afternoon and ask him to have lunch with you. He always makes time, even if it is while eating in his office instead of driving somewhere. It warms your heart that he is indulging you like this, even though he is unbelievably busy. He bids you goodbye after lunch with a smile and the softest touch of his fingers brushing the scent glands on your wrist. When you hold it up to your nose and inhale later, you can smell cinnamon and oak. It makes you giddy.

The end of a business quarter is approaching, which keeps both him and Seungkwan very occupied. You don’t know when to bring up the Jihoon thing, your fear and the circumstances making you hesitate. Briefly, you entertain the idea of telling Jeonghan instead, but you quickly dismiss that. For one, you know Seungcheol will feel some type of way about you going to Jeonghan with this instead of him. And for another, a part of you is still very nervous around Jeonghan. So that option goes out of the window.

You restart your evening ritual of dinner and a walk in the backyard. The winter chill is breaking a little, so it’s more pleasant outside now. It is on one of these walks that you bring up to Seungcheol something that you have been mulling over in your head for a long while.

“I have a favor to ask.”

Seungcheol hums. “Anything.”

You hesitate, feeling how your heart is pounding. Seungcheol must sense it, because he stops your walk with a light touch on your hand, tilting his head so you’ll look him in the eye.

“Anything, sweetheart.”

So you bite your lip hard, and then you speak.

“Can I see Soonyoung?”

Seungcheol blinks, as if he didn’t hear you right, and then he lets out a light laugh. “Your brother? Of course.”

You gape at him. “Really?”

He gives you a reproachful but gentle look. “When have I ever stopped you from doing whatever you want?”

That’s a good point. Seungcheol doesn’t really care about where you go during the day. His only requirement is that Mingyu be with you, so you can remain safe. You have been exploring the city for a few weeks now, since you were never allowed to before. Often on these trips, you remember your mother, who spent her whole life in your childhood home. You wish she could see what is out there, how much the world has to offer. You often wonder why your family operates so differently from Seungcheol's, why you never had the freedom there that you have here.

Nevertheless.

You’re both excited and nervous to see your brother again. It has been months, and you think you’ve fundamentally changed as a person since the last time you and Soonyoung were in the same room. Seungcheol makes some calls, and two more security men, a beta and an alpha, join Mingyu this time. He assures you it means nothing, it’s just about security, since the situation with Soonyoung is still a bit volatile now that he is forced to stop using the Busan Port for his trade. You accept it in stride. Frankly, you weren’t expecting to see Soonyoung at all, knowing that if you made any demand like this in your family, the answer would be a resounding ‘absolutely not’, so you won’t be difficult about anything that will make Seungcheol feel at ease.

When your car pulls up into the driveway of your old home, you drink in the sight hungrily. You missed it so much. It’s not nearly as big as the new one, but grand regardless, and associated with a million memories. You did spend your entire life within its four walls until very recently. Returning to it feels heavy but bittersweet.

Soonyoung is standing outside, waiting for you along with a few of his men. All of them have guns strapped to their fronts, probably as a show to send a message to Mingyu and the rest of the security team. You don’t care though, because the second you see your brother, tears spring into your eyes. You rush to him, letting him envelope you in a crushing hug. You can hear his mantra of ‘thank god, thank god’ mumbled against your ear. You let yourself cry on his shoulder.

He pulls away to look down at you, and his eyes immediately shoot to the large mark on your neck. He scowls at it, lip curling in distaste. You wipe your eyes and smile at him.

“I’m okay, Soonyoung.”

He nods, albeit a little stiffly, but ushers you inside with a sure arm around your shoulders. You turn to look at Mingyu, who only smiles and nods at you to go, knowing he will be waiting outside with Soonyoung’s men.

“You’re really okay?” Soonyoung’s voice sounds a little hoarse, and up close, you can see the dark circles under his eyes. Your chest pangs.

“I’m great Soonyoung, really. I’m fine.”

He sighs, visible relief washing over his features.

“I was so sure he would’ve torn you to shreds by now.”

You laugh a little. “He won’t do that. I’m his mate.”

Soonyoung scoffs and flops down on the couch. You sink into the familiar cushion beside him.

“Like he cares.”

“He does care, surprisingly.” You smile at your brother. “I’m….. happy.”

Soonyoung looks a little shocked. “You’re happy? With him?”

You nod, caught off guard when you see his face twist again, this time in anger.

“And what about Seokmin? Did you forget you already have an alpha?”

You blink, taken aback. Soonyoung’s tone is accusatory, like you’ve done something wrong. You don’t appreciate it.

“Seokmin was never my alpha. He was courting me. I wasn’t his mate. Seungcheol mated me. What the hell did you want me to do?”

Soonyoung’s eyes narrow at your tone. “Watch it.”

You grit your teeth. “You’re implying that I’m in the wrong here. I’m trying to make the best of a terrible situation I was put in.”

“You’re betraying your alpha.”

You bark out a laugh. “Seokmin is not my alpha.”

“He might as well have been. The only thing missing was the mark.”

“That mark means something.”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows pull together, eyes darting between yours as if he’s trying to figure you out. “Why are you giving me so much lip? What the hell did he do to you?”

“I don’t know what that means, but he didn’t do anything. I’m fine. Better than I have been in ages, actually, since I can set foot outside the house.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Right. That. The fact that he even let you come here proves he’s a shit alpha.”

You grind your teeth, feeling very irritated. “He knows he can protect me.”

One corner of Soonyoung’s lip lifts in a little sneer. “Sure.”

You don’t like his tone. And you almost regret coming to see him. You stand up.

“I think I should leave.” You mumble, feeling disappointment curl in your chest, an ugly emotion. Soonyoung sighs.

“I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, Y/N. You know I love you. I want nothing but the best for you.”

You sigh, feeling your shoulders slump as he continues.

“He is not the best for you. Seokmin is. Seokmin has always been.”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Soonie. I’m Seungcheol’s now. It’s done.”

He stares into space. “Right.”

His tone of voice sends a little chill down your spine, but you ignore it. You don’t like the way he’s acting. You know better now, after being exposed to so many alphas on a daily basis, like Jeonghan, Mingyu, even Wonwoo, however briefly you met him, and you don’t appreciate being talked down to, especially not by your brother, who has been doing it his whole life. Something you always considered normal until you learned that it’s not.

“I’ll see you around, Soonyoung.” You mumble. He sighs and nods, but he doesn’t stop you, silently standing up to walk you out. It seems he’s not a fan of your new attitude either.

Mingyu is a little surprised that you didn’t stay for longer, but you just shake your head and pile into the car. You weren’t expecting this either, but you can’t stay if all Soonyoung is going to do is level you with more condescension and judgement. Especially for something that wasn’t your fault. You remain silent as you stare out the window, running over the interaction in your head.

“Everything okay?” Mingyu asks cautiously. You clear your throat and nod.

“Can you take me to the office?”

“Of course.”

You turn your head back to the window, resting your forehead on it and closing your eyes.

For the longest time, you idolised your brother and the life you lived before all this. You would wake up in the mornings and have breakfast brought to you in bed. Every day would be a lazy day, getting up very late and taking all the time in the world to get ready. As you think back on it, you realise that was probably because you didn’t have much to do at all, so every action, every part of the day, had to be dragged out in order to get through it. You remember spending so much time either reading or conversing with your mother as you sat on your patio. Towards the end of the day, your father and Soonyoung would get back from work, usually in a foul mood, scarfing down dinner before turning in for the night. Sometimes, Soonyoung would watch a movie with you, and if you ever asked him how his day went, he would just put a large, comforting hand on your head, replying shortly.

“Nothing you need to worry about, kiddo.”

You thought you were so lucky to not be involved. Soonyoung and your father cared so much that they never wanted to expose you and your mother to the life they lived. It’s only after your talk with Soonyoung now that you realise; when you keep someone in the dark so much, you can easily just tell them what to do and they will listen.

In Soonyoung’s mind, you will still listen to him and his judgement, just like your mother always taught you. ‘Listen to your brother, he knows best’. But does he? What does your brother even know about your life now? How can he know that Seungcheol treats you like a partner, an equal, while caring for you to the best of his ability, and not like something that needs to be shut away, never to see the light of day?

The second you opposed your brother’s opinion, he turned sour with you. And that tells you everything you need to know about how he sees you. About how he has always seen you.

Your heart hurts.

Seungcheol stands when you enter his office about half an hour later. You can see the little line between his thick eyebrows, showing his worry. Mingyu probably told him your visit was cut short.

“What happened?” He asks. You shake your head, walking behind the desk and wrapping your arms around him tightly. You can feel him stiffen for a second before relaxing, his arms heavy and comforting as he hugs you back. You feel his heartbeat against your ear, regular and calm. It eases your nerves after being unable to get Soonyoung’s cold expression out of your head the entire car ride here.

“Tell me what happened, sweetheart. I’ll fix it.”

You laugh a little and shake your head as much as you can with it still pressed to his chest. You feel like choking down tears as you think of Seungcheol and his need to fix anything that goes wrong in your life. You breathe in his scent, letting it wash over you, grounding you like it always does.

“There’s nothing to fix. I’m fine, I promise.”

He sighs at the reassurance. You don’t know how much he believes you, but you’re glad that he doesn’t press. You sway a little, holding each other tightly. After a few minutes, you huff.

“I know I have to let you get back to work, but I don’t wanna let go.”

His body shakes as he laughs. It makes you smile.

“Alright. Come here.”

You yelp when his arms slide down to your thighs, lifting you up. You instinctively cling to him, afraid to fall. He takes a few steps back until he’s sinking into his office chair again, settling you in his lap, straddling him. You flush at the position, but then his left arm wraps reassuredly around your waist, pulling you close until your head is resting on his shoulder. Your omega preens, and you tuck your arms to his chest, settling. Your heart is still racing a mile a minute, but this feels right.

Seungcheol goes back to work, the keyboard clacking away in the quiet of the office. He answers the phone a few times, and Seungkwan comes in to have him sign some things and look over more schedules. You hear him softly tell the omega to cancel any meetings he has. You doze in his arms, warm and comfortable. Your nose is so near his scent gland that all you smell is him. When he speaks, his voice reverberates in his chest, and you can feel it on your skin. He’s so warm, like he always is even in the dead of winter, and it’s so easy to be lulled into peaceful, dreamless sleep.

When you wake, everything is eerily silent. You blink a few times, assaulted by a familiar scent, and you realise you are still in Seungcheol’s lap. Except now, you’re practically draped over him. You lift your head to look up, and Seungcheol’s face is tilted to the side, eyes closed and mouth parted slightly as he sleeps. The back of the chair is adjusted to lower it more, so he’s almost lying down on it, you on top of him. You turn to look the opposite way, mouth dropping open.

It’s nighttime, the dark sky visible from the floor to ceiling windows. The lights in the office are dimmed too, except a lamp on Seungcheol’s desk and another on the coffee table in front of the couches. His computer is turned off. You can’t hear a single sound from outside. Everything is quiet.

You feel a large, warm hand cup the back of your head and push down, making you lay against his shoulder again.

“Go to sleep.” His voice is rough and throaty. Your heartbeat picks up a little.

“We can just go home.”

He wraps his arms around you tightly. “Don’t feel like moving.”

You can’t stop your grin even if you wanted to. You close your eyes, relaxing against his body again. Just before you drift off to sleep, you feel a pair of lips brush lightly over your forehead.

Soonyoung is unfazed compared to you. Of course he is. This is second nature to him. You’re sure he wouldn’t even flinch if someone fired a gun right next to his ear. Hell, he’s been shot at more times than either of you can count. You remember when you were just a teenager, when Soonyoung started to really involve himself in the family business. Your mother would always rush you out of the room when he was injured, arm coming up to obstruct your line of vision.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with!” She would bark, closing the door just enough that only her head was poking out to look at you. You couldn’t see inside, couldn’t register Soonyoung’s bloody form as the nurses worked to get his bleeding under control. “Go to your room, sweetie. Read something.”

And so you would. Sprawling on the bed to immerse yourself in a book while in the adjacent room, Soonyoung would brace himself against the sting of antiseptic, his blood and the spirit mixing as they stained the sheets.

He is a very resilient alpha. He can take anything.

His face is eerily calm right now, considering the mess you are stuck in. Downstairs, there’s yelling, scuffling, and more shots fired. Soonyoung opens the last door, your mother’s old bedroom before she passed away, and tugs you inside. He closes the door and finally turns to you. The noises fade just a little bit.

“Listen to me carefully,” he says, his grip on your arm turning much gentler, the kind you’re used to. Soonyoung is never harsh with you, but there’s an urgency in his voice that you have never heard. It alarms you. “No matter what happens, no matter what you hear outside, do not open this door. Understand?”

You nod shakily, but your heart pounds. “Soonie, I’m scared.”

His face softens from its porcelain rigidity. He nods. “I know, kiddo. But just stick it out for me. I know you’ve never seen any of this before, but trust me. Everything will be okay.”

He puts his hand on your head, warm and sure, before giving you a tiny smile. You know it’s supposed to be placating, but it does nothing to ease your nerves. You watch him open the door again and step out, giving you one last look before leaving. You hear a click, signalling the key turning in the lock outside. With your heart still pounding, you turn back to the empty room.

You haven’t been in here since your mother passed away. Frankly, you couldn’t bear to step foot inside. She withered away on this very bed, only months after your father was killed, the grief of being separated from her mate finally making her succumb to the inviting embrace of death. You were by her side every second of those last few weeks. So you took her death way harder than Soonyoung, who quickly stepped up to take your father’s place in the family when he passed, running the business the best way he was trained to. In fact, he barely saw your mother in her last days, too overwhelmed with keeping the struggling family alive.

Nevertheless, your mother’s advice would always be the same. Listen to Soonyoung, do what your brother says, he knows best. And you knew she was right. It was under Soonyoung’s strong leadership over the following years that the family business really took off, morphing into something like an empire the heights of which even your father hadn’t achieved. It was the success of the empire that made you live so comfortably, so sheltered, and with a brother as protective as Soonyoung, you never had to worry about a single thing.

Back then, kneeling by your mother’s bed, you were too overcome with the pain of losing her, the only person in your very constricted life, and you never really registered her words. But now, trapped in this mess, all your trust is firmly with your brother. You shakily sit on the edge of the bed, eyeing the door. If Soonyoung told you not to move, you would not move. To you, your big brother’s word is law.

The noise outside seems to be cresting, rising to levels that make it bleed concerningly through the walls. You fist your hands in the sheets, body rigid with worry. You pray for Soonyoung under your breath. And you stay perfectly still.

The sounds peak, and then suddenly fall, leaving silence in their wake. You swallow tightly, back straightening when you hear shuffling on the other side. You expect the clinking of the key in the hole, but you don’t hear it. Instead, there is a very loud bang on the wood, deafening like thunder, and you yelp instinctively. A pause, as if someone has heard you, and then another booming thud, like they are trying to kick the door in.

Your hand flies to your mouth, clamping it shut as your breaths come quick and heavy. Fear blooms like poison ivy in your chest, enclosing your heart. You stand up and scramble back until your shoulder blades meet the far wall. Then, you are rendered helpless. There’s nowhere else to go.

The doorframe groans under the strain as more and more kicks keep coming. The first splinter is so noticeable that your eyes catch it immediately, right on the edge of the door near the knob, but the rest come quick after that, until the entire frame breaks with a resounding crack, and the door falls with a loud slam on the carpeted floor.

It kicks up some cement and sawdust, but through it you can see the tall, broad frame of the man on the other side. The light behind him from the hallway is too bright, so you can’t see his face properly, but he is quick to walk in, side stepping the fallen door. His face is finally illuminated, and you stiffen at how unfamiliar he is. You don’t know a lot many people, but he is not one of them. The small, naïve part of you wants to hope that he is one of Soonyoung’s men, but when you catch his eye and he looks you up and down, you immediately know that he isn’t.

You scramble back into the wall again when he makes a beeline to where you stand, pausing mere inches from you. He studies your face, and up close, you can see how brown his eyes are. His hair is the color of chestnut, long enough to brush the collar of his tight black shirt, and a little wavy. His scent is nearly overwhelming, cinnamon and oak, spicy and earthy. He’s an alpha through and through, even someone as clueless as you, who has only seen a handful of alphas in her whole life, can tell, which means he’s dangerous.

He reaches a hand up and brushes your hair off your neck, and you instantly feel vulnerable. You are completely frozen in place, despite your body screaming at you to push him away. But he’s huge, he towers over you, and you wouldn’t be able to get away no matter how hard you tried. You pray again, pray for your brother to come barreling through the broken doorframe, to save you from whatever is coming, but a terrible, sickening pit in your stomach tells you that you’re on your own.

He reaches a hand up, the same one that exposed your neck, and places his palm firmly over your mouth, encompassing the entirety of the lower half of your face. You are trembling, eyes already glassing over just from fear, when he lowers his head, moving closer to you. He uses his grip on you to tilt your face the other way. Then he says his first words to you.

“Don’t scream, omega.”

Blinding pain.

It pierces right over your scent glands, so sharp and pointed that your entire body goes rigid. You try to gasp, but your mouth is obstructed under the alpha’s firm grip, and you can only breathe in sharply through your nose, a pained inhale that does nothing to stop the way your head spins, nor the fire that seems to ignite on your neck and rush down your veins, invading every capillary to the last ends of your fingertips. Your eyes water, and instinctively, your hands reach up to slam hard into the man’s chest. He doesn’t even budge, standing firmly as he digs his teeth harder into your neck.

You struggle, kicking at his shins, clawing at his clothes, dizzy with the pain. After what feels like an eternity but is likely only a few seconds, he finally pulls away, his mouth leaving your neck in the same instant as his hand leaves your mouth. You gulp in a huge breath before sobbing, hands flying up to your neck. You press on it, tears flowing freely down your cheeks, trying to relieve the ache of it, but it does nothing. Your knees buckle as you weep, sliding down the wall when it feels like you can’t hold your weight up any longer.

Your head is still spinning, spinning, spinning, and a wave of nausea passes up through your chest, settling in your throat like a tight ball. You’re still crying, big sweeping bawls. You can hear more commotion, but you’re numb to your surroundings. You’re too distracted by how detached your body feels, a separate entity from you. You hear broken sentences, but they don’t make much sense.

“Put her in the car. The first one.”

“Me and Jeonghan still have some stuff to deal with.”

“Ground floor is clear.”

“I know. It’ll be easier to get out.”

You feel a strong grip on your upper arms, the same place where Soonyoung held you, tugging you up until you’re on your feet. You sway, knees buckling again, but before you can fall, you are being lifted up over someone’s shoulder. You try to kick, but your legs are quickly held together, rendering you immobile. You still press tightly on the wound now etched into your neck. You can’t scream, because just opening your mouth makes you nauseous. Your center of gravity tilts when you’re lifted, and it takes all your strength to not vomit, gulping hard to keep the bile down.

You don’t even remember being carried out of your childhood home, or being placed in a car, nor do you recall when you have a blindfold put on you. You feel even more dizzy with your vision obstructed, but when you try to tug it off, hands grip your wrists and tell you to stay still or you will get tied up too. It’s a different voice, different scent, but also alpha and also unfamiliar.

You cry the whole way to wherever they are taking you, wetting the cloth over your eyes, your body still tingling strangely, like a quiet buzzing in your bones. You hate the feeling, and it almost feels like there’s someone else living under your skin along with you, like you’re not alone. It’s terrifying. And not welcome.

You think of Soonyoung, wondering if he is even alive. He must not be, because you cannot imagine he would ever let this happen to his baby sister. You pray that you will wake up in your own cozy bed, and this will just be a nightmare you cooked up after reading one too many horror fiction books. You know though, deep in your brain, that this is real. All of it is completely real. And here you are, in the very thick of it.

You don’t know what the hell you will do.

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Seungcheol was born in that house, in a large bedroom that had been set up as a birthing suite, surrounded by a doctor, a midwife, and many maids. He was the youngest in his family, so they all doted on him as he grew up. Sometimes, Seungcheol thinks that this is why it took him so long to get a handle on things when it all fell to him. He was never taught to toughen up, because no one imagined he would be the one taking over and leading the charge. He was always the baby of the family.

It seems that no one really anticipated the calamity that would fall upon them. His father’s failing health, his mother’s death, his brothers killed one by one in rival family clashes until it was just Seungcheol, left to pick up the pieces of a crumbling empire. In merely a few years, it seems everything broke faster than any of them could fix it. Maybe if they knew what the future held, they would have taught him the ins and outs of the business better. He was never meant to be the leader. He had been the youngest all his life. But here he was now, no older brothers to hold the reins anymore, and a huge team of delinquents to lead as he tried to save his family’s business.

At least we have Busan. That’s what Seungcheol would always say when he felt the panic of his responsibility seep into his bones. He said that when they lost a big portion of their underground trade to police raids. He said that when the Incheon smuggling operations were shut down. He said that when he lost many, many men to fighting that was so frequent now, nearly unprecedented in the Choi empire. Busan Port is their biggest source of revenue. Nearly their entire trade comes from his men posted out there.

At least we have Busan.

Then the Kwon Family closed in on their ships, and all hell broke loose.

They can’t lose Busan. They can’t. If Busan gets taken, if their ships are occupied or destroyed, then there’s nothing holding his business up anymore. The empire his father built would officially collapse. Generations worth of spilled blood will be rendered useless. Seungcheol can’t let that happen, no matter what cost.

“Damn Kwon Family.” Jeonghan mutters under his breath. “Since when are they such a threat?”

He’s lounging on the couch in Seungcheol’s office without a care in the world, sprawled with his legs draping over the arm. To the untrained eye, it looks like he’s relaxed, but Seungcheol knows that despite what it looks like, Jeonghan’s brain is racing a hundred miles an hour. There’s a reason Jeonghan is allowed to lay around Seungcheol’s office so casually. None of his other men would dare be so brazen. But Jeonghan is his most trusted confidant, his advisor, and the only reason that the Choi empire hasn’t completely collapsed in the last few years. Seungcheol trusts Jeonghan above all else.

“We need to do something about this.” Seungcheol mumbles. He’s leaning back in his office chair, feeling like the weight of the world is holding his shoulders down. “Maybe we need to send a message?”

Jeonghan hums and shakes his head, still staring up at the ceiling. “No. Too much police pressure right now. We can’t be reckless.”

Seungcheol huffs. “So what else?”

Jeonghan doesn’t reply, eyes unfocused. Seungcheol can practically see the gears in his head turn.

“Give me a few days. Let me find out what I can about them.” He finally says.

Jeonghan is true to his word, because a few days later, he has a full portfolio of everyone associated with the Kwon family. They’ve been around for a while now, a smaller business with not much influence, but under the Kwon son’s new reign, they are expanding at a frightening pace. He’s reckless, sharp and unrelenting. Seungcheol’s men call him ‘Hoshi’. Tiger’s gaze. Frankly, Seungcheol isn’t a fan of titles, but he can see why this one stuck, considering how he has shaken up the business so quickly and effectively. He can understand why Hoshi is an intimidating figure, and it seems his hold on underground drug circles is way stronger than Seungcheol originally thought.

“This is where we can strike.” Jeonghan says, swiping on his laptop to land on a photo, turning the screen to fully face Seungcheol. It’s a woman, definitely younger than Seungcheol himself, with wide open eyes and a mouth pulled into a pout. The picture is taken from afar and zoomed in, so it’s a little grainy. She’s sitting on a balcony. Across from her is the Kwon family son, Hoshi. What’s his name again? Soonyoung? He’s smoking a cigarette.

“Who is she? His mate?”

Jeonghan shakes his head. “Sister.”

Now that he’s mentioned it, there is some similarity, though not a lot. Seungcheol frowns.

“Okay. What about her? Do we kill her as a warning?”

Jeonghan snorts a little. “Broaden your horizons a bit, Seungcheol-ah. There’s ways to do things without killing.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. He’s really not in the mood for any of Jeonghan’s usual quips right now. “So what do you propose?”

“You take her as your mate.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen, head jerking to the side to look at his advisor. Jeonghan doesn’t seem perturbed at all. He only looks at Seungcheol in anticipation.

“What?”

Jeonghan leans back in the seat across the table where he sits. “Think about it. Killing her won’t help. From what I know about Hoshi, that will only piss him off. He’s not one to receive a message like that kindly. He won’t back down, he will try to expand twice as hard if you take her out of the picture. But if you were to mate her, make her your omega…..”

He trails off. The gears in Seungcheol’s head turn, and he finishes Jeonghan’s sentence.

“He becomes compliant. He won’t risk ruining his sister’s life by taking me down.”

Jeonghan nods, the corner of his lip ticking up in a smirk. “Exactly.”

Seungcheol ponders over it for a few minutes, and Jeonghan doesn’t interrupt him. At the end of the day, it’s really Seungcheol who calls the shots. Jeonghan might be an excellent strategist, but nothing gets done without Seungcheol’s explicit say so. His rough circumstances meant he had to grow up way quicker than he ever anticipated or wanted to. He doesn’t know if he’s a good leader, but he sure as hell tries, and it seems Jeonghan trusts his final word.

It’s not uncommon or unheard of in underground circles to take omegas and mate them as leverage. It’s one of the reasons why family omegas are so fiercely protected and hidden. There’s a good chance that Hoshi’s sister has never set foot outside her family’s estate, and being her alpha brother, there’s no way Hoshi will stay stubborn if the threat of his sister’s mate is hanging over his head.

There’s hesitation here, though. As common as it is, Seungcheol has always found the method to be sleazy, leveraging someone’s life like that. He may be part of a crime family, hell, Seungcheol has killed many with his own hands, but there’s something about this that seems more violating than death. Death is a quick reprieve. A flash of pain and then nothing. But this, this is prolonged suffering. This might as well be classified as torture.

He looks at the picture again. You’re in your early twenties, maybe. Sheltered and protected your entire life. This might be a blow to Hoshi, but he can’t imagine what it would feel like for you. He stays silent for a long time, pondering.

Maybe Jeonghan senses Seungcheol’s doubt, because he says the one sentence that could push Seungcheol to the point of desperation.

“We will lose Busan.”

Seungcheol closes his eyes. Jeonghan is right, he knows this. It’s either this, or Seungcheol loses everything. His men lose their jobs, hundreds of families that are dependent on him, his business. His own family is gone, he doesn’t have a whole lot to live for. But he knows how far his business stretches. He has been in those warehouses, on those docks. The men who look to him for guidance, the men who have served him, his father, his grandfather, for generations before. He can’t say no. Too many people are at stake here. It’s too big a price to pay.

You will just have to be the sacrifice.

………………………………

The light is bright when your blindfold is pulled off, and it makes you squint. You shield your eyes, bringing your knees up to your chest so you can curl into a ball. The mattress where the strange alpha plopped you down is soft, but you don’t dare relax. You blink furiously to clear your vision. A few stray tears run down your cheeks as things come into focus.

The unfamiliar scent you smelled all through the car ride belongs to a very tall, intimidating looking alpha. He’s broad and very muscly, bare arms appear threatening in his sleeveless black shirt. You’re sure that if he wanted, he could tear you limb from limb. You kick with your feet so your body shuffles back. You feel your shoulder blades meet the headboard of the bed you’re on. The sheets are maroon in color, velvet and very soft, much more luxurious than the ones you have at home. But right now, you would sleep on the floor of your bedroom, cold and naked, rather than be here.

The alpha watches you for a few seconds before walking to the window. He tugs in the window pane. It doesn’t budge. Then, without a word, he walks to the door and closes it behind him. You hear a click. He has locked you inside.

You stay frozen still for a long time, listening for any sound, any whisper. There is none, but you don’t move. Half out of fear, and half out of grief. You think of Soonyoung again. And along with that, you think of Seokmin.

Joyous, warm Seokmin. The boy you grew up with. Well, a man now. An alpha. But you knew him even before he presented. He was a sensitive child. He was in tune with your emotions just as well as his own. His smile was brighter than the sun. His laugh lit up the room. And when he presented as Alpha, none of it changed. He was still bright, still shining.

When you presented as an omega, your mother was delighted, a reaction not usually seen in crime families. Usually, omegas are an imposition, a weak point, but your mother was not bothered, and Seokmin was a big reason why. Seokmin’s father was the advisor to your own father, so your family knew his family very intimately. It was almost a no-brainer that when the time came, Seokmin would be your mate. And that put your mother at ease.

But then your father died, and then your mother, and everything just…… kept getting delayed.

You blink a little, eyes still bleary, and your hand reaches up to press on the fresh wound on your neck.

What would Seokmin say, knowing that you now belong to another alpha?

It takes you a long while to finally move, limbs sore and stiff. You feel wobbly on your feet, but you manage to shuffle to the dresser across the room. You barely recognise yourself in the mirror, eyes hollow and cheeks smudged with wet tears. You pull your hand away, and your face crumples at the sight.

It’s huge, the mark. It’s still beaded with some blood, and the skin surrounding the teeth marks is reddened. You wince when you brush your fingertips over it. It’s tender. Your eyes well up again.

You always imagined being marked, every omega daydreams about it. In all your fantasies, it would be Seokmin giving you his mark. It would be warm and soft, and it would feel so good, like you are connected to him, filled with nothing but love and trust for each other, just like your mother described. All her stories about a mating mark are so intimate, regaling you with her feelings of peace and bliss, but absolutely none of that has happened for you.

All you feel right now is fear, and this anxious feeling that someone knows exactly where you are. You know mating marks connect you to your alpha, but you always thought that it would be a comforting feeling, that you would feel safe. Now, it feels like being watched. This creepy, heavy feeling that prickles your skin in the worst way. This is nothing like you imagined. This is your worst nightmare.

It would break your mother if she knew. Maybe it’s good that she isn’t around to see this happen.

There’s a tentative knock on your door, and you nearly fly out of your skin. You scramble to get back on the bed, pulling the sheet up and curling into yourself like it’s supposed to protect you in any way. There’s a clinking of keys in the door, and then it opens. You fist the sheets tightly in your hands, frozen in fear.

The man that steps through is also a stranger, and not the alpha who marked you. He’s shorter, but has a lean, sturdy build. Your nose twitches as you feel him out. A beta.

You relax only a smidge. At least it’s not an alpha, but Soonyoung’s warnings are clear in your head. You can’t trust anyone, not even betas or omegas. Anyone can be dangerous. So you are still stiff and on guard.

The beta steps in and closes the door behind him. He’s holding a white box with a Red Cross on it, a first aid kit. He gives you a smile.

“Hi. I’m Chan.” He is not as big and imposing as the alpha from before. His hair is brown and somewhat shaggy. He reminds you of a wide eyed little animal. He steps closer to the bed, but not too quickly. He places the first aid kit on the mattress at the edge of the bed, and clicks it open. Inside, you see gauze, antiseptic, bandages, some ointment and cotton balls. Then, he steps back and puts his hands in his pockets, turning them out. Empty. He lifts his shirt just enough to show you the waistband of his pants. Then does the same by turning around and showing you the back as well. No gun tucked into his jeans.

He’s trying to show you that he won’t hurt you. Maybe he knows that saying the words won’t mean anything, so he’s proving it to you with action. You eye him with a little suspicion still, but your neck is throbbing really bad. And the blood is worrisome. You don’t want to get an infection. Slowly, you lower your legs and the sheet, sitting straight.

That’s invitation enough, because the man smiles and steps closer with the box in his hands. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward just a bit. You slowly show him your neck.

He works quickly, efficiently. You wonder if he is some kind of medical person, because it looks like he knows what he’s doing. You flinch when he cleans the area with the antiseptic, and he softens his touch immediately. Once the wound is bandaged and taken care of, he places a leaf of painkillers on the bedside table, along with a bottle of water.

“I wouldn’t take the medicine just now. I think lunch is on its way up.” He gives you a small smile. “Eat something and then take these. Okay?”

You nod slowly. Normally, there’s no way you would ingest anything they gave you, Soonyoung was adamant on drilling that inside your head over the years (‘poison, or a sedative, could be anything’), but the medicine is sealed, and so is the water bottle. So maybe you will take just those.

Half an hour later, a maid brings you food on a tray. It looks like a warm, hearty meal, but you don’t dare touch it, Soonyoung’s warnings in your mind. It could be laced with anything. You don’t even want to imagine what they will do to you if you’re unconscious. You have to be on guard.

You stay curled up like that for hours. The only sound you hear is the periodic ticking of the clock. As the sun goes down, you can hear dogs barking in the distance. Occasionally, you will hear someone speak, a far away shout or a loud laugh, but nothing more than that. You can feel your joints scream from being pulled taut for so long, and your nerves are frayed. You don’t move an inch.

The maid comes back around 8 o’clock with another tray of food. She sighs when she sees the first one just as she left it, but doesn’t say a word. She just replaces the old tray with a new one holding fresh, warm food, leaving quickly. The aroma drifts into your nose. Your stomach growls.

Don’t touch it, don’t touch it, don’t touch it, don’t touch it.

You fall asleep like that, propped up and slumped a little against the headboard. You jerk awake at the slightest sound, a shuffle, a car door slamming outside, someone coughing. It’s fitful, and only makes you more tired instead of giving you rest. Your feet and hands are cold, but you don’t curl into the blanket on the bed. The wound on your neck still throbs. You power through.

After a very long, very fearful night, the sun comes up. The untouched dinner tray gets replaced with a breakfast one by the same woman. You close your eyes when the smell of fresh cooked eggs hits you. You’re not used to rough conditions like this. Your father and then Soonyoung always had people tending to your every need, pampering you the best they could. You have never wanted for anything in your life. Hunger claws at you, menacing, biting. A feeling you have never known.

By late afternoon, you’re still slumped against the headboard. You’re dead tired, and you don’t know how to stay upright any longer. But your ears are alert, twitching at even the slightest of sounds. Exhaustion has made you even more hyper aware of your surroundings, somehow. When you hear the key turn in the lock again, you expect more food that will go wasted. But then the door opens, and a familiar scent of cinnamon and oak assaults your nose.

It’s him.

You go rigid, pushing yourself up. Wide, tired eyes meet sharp, brown ones. He stares at you for a long moment before stepping aside. The maid is behind him, holding more food. She steps in wordlessly and replaces the old food with the new one before leaving. All the while, the alpha stands with his arms crossed over his white, button down shirt. He thanks the woman under his breath as she leaves before slowly closing the door behind her. The room falls silent again.

Your bite mark throbs, sensing his presence near. You dig your nails into your arms where they wrap around your legs.

“You haven’t been eating.” He finally speaks to you, stepping closer. His voice is soft but deep, and it somehow booms in the room, commands it. He puts his hands in his pants pockets. He stops at the edge of the bed. “Why?”

You have no intention of answering him. You stare at the wall over his shoulder. You hear him sigh.

“You think I had the food laced? Is that it?”

You don’t say a word.

“This food shouldn’t be a problem for you then.” He says, looking down at it. Your eyes snap to the tray as well, and you notice that everything on the plate is in packets. A carton of milk, sealed sugared fruit slices, sealed sandwich.

“It’s not the most healthy,” the man mumbles, “but it’s better than nothing.”

He steps towards the side of the bed. You stiffen as he draws near. He leans down to pick up the leaflet of pills on the bedside table and tuts.

“This is sealed. How come you didn’t take this?”

You are silent.

He bends then, placing one hand on the mattress as he leans closer. You squeeze your eyes shut, wanting desperately to scramble away from him, but you’re frozen with fear. His breath hits your ear as he speaks.

“You have no reason not to eat now. Eat all this by the time I come back, or I will have Chan force food into you with an IV. Got it?”

You don’t nod or shake your head. You sit rock still. This close, his scent is particularly potent. It unsettles you. He finally pulls away and walks quickly to the door, closing and locking it behind him. You breathe a shaky sigh of relief, straightening a little. Tears escape your eyes as you replay the interaction in your head.

You weep as silently as you can.

………………………………

Seungcheol has been on edge since the day they raided the Kwon house. He’s irritable, something uncharacteristic of him. He’s usually more assured in his decisions, more confident in where he stands. But unease gnaws at him now, almost constantly. He sleeps with it like a companion on his shoulder, and he wakes with the same feeling. He regrets what he did, unsurprisingly. He had a feeling that he would. Maybe this should’ve been the first time he didn’t listen to Jeonghan.

When he voices the thought to his advisor, the alpha just chuckles.

“You realise it’s not you, right? This feeling.”

Seungcheol scowls. Jeonghan continues talking.

“It’s her distress. You can feel it because of the mating bite. That’s why you feel uneasy. This is her, not you.”

Oh. Seungcheol processes the words a little. It does make sense, since Seungcheol knows just how shot your nerves are. He’s seen it. You look nothing like you did when he first found you. You flinch and jump whenever he visits, like you expect him to tear you to shreds at any moment. He can’t understand your apprehension. He’s your mate. Your alpha. He would never harm you. Well, except the harm he has already done.

Jeonghan is still watching him closely. He speaks again when Seungcheol remains silent.

“If you have any regrets about this whole thing, this will wipe them away.” He says, holding up his phone. “Hoshi’s advisor just called. They’re calling off this month’s Busan shipments. The port will remain ours.”

Seungcheol almost can’t believe it. He sits up in his chair, wide eyed. Something in his chest lifts.

“You’re serious?”

Jeonghan nods, smiling.

The sigh of relief Seungcheol lets out feels like it’s peeling away layers and layers of unending fatigue and anxiety. He runs a hand down his face and through his hair, like he wants to scrub the tension away.

“Just like that.” He breathes.

“Just like that.” Jeonghan repeats. “I told you, taking omegas is effective.”

Something new gnaws at Seungcheol’s chest. He bites the inside of his cheek. This is all possible because of the hell he has put you through. Without knowing, you’ve saved his family, his men, him.

He feels guilty.

Jeonghan senses it, because of course he does. He leans forward to catch Seungcheol’s eye, and then he speaks softly.

“You can give her a good life.” He says. “Even better than she had previously. The Choi empire is above and beyond whatever she had at the Kwon household. The circumstances of your bond might not be ideal, but you could be a good mate for her, and her for you.”

Seungcheol lets out a mirthless laugh. “She will never trust me. And I don’t expect her to.”

Jeonghan shakes his head. “She will. You’re a good man, a good alpha. You can do right by her. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Seungcheol nods slowly, though he doesn’t fully believe Jeonghan’s words. But his advisor is right. What has happened has happened. He can at least try to make do with these circumstances the best he can.

If you let him, that is.

…………………………………..

You don’t know how long you remain in that room. The days blur together. You can see the sun rise and set from the window, but at some point, you lose count of how many days have passed. Every one of them is the same, except now, you see more of your alpha.

He comes around dinner time, the maid with him holding a tray of food. She leaves and he stays, sitting in a chair across the bed and watching you eat. He doesn’t leave until you empty everything on the plate. There’s something different every day, but it’s always in packets. Store bought. After many days of this, he comes in with a home cooked meal, warm and inviting.

“I hope you trust me enough by now to know I wouldn’t hurt you.” He says. “Not like this.”

He doesn’t say anything more, watching you in anticipation. But Soonyoung is in your ear. You can’t trust anyone except your family. His words are so loud it’s almost like he is in your head. You can’t eat this. You can’t. Silently, you reach a hand forward and push the tray away.

He sighs, almost in resignation. Your heart squeezes a little, but you don’t budge. You can’t trust him. He mated you by force. He probably killed your brother too. You can’t even look at him.

He doesn’t come the next day. Or the day after that. No one does except the maid with a tray of food, all sealed. You claw at the skin of your arms, feeling uneasy. You’re fed now, eating whatever you can that looks safe enough. But you still feel sickly. You miss the feeling of the sun against your skin. You miss the fresh air. You sit by the window for a few hours in the afternoon, when the sun is angled in a way that it hits your face. It feels glorious. You watch out of the closed window, massive expanses of gardens sprawling as far as the eye can see. There’s a stream going through the grounds, and you can hear the water faintly through the closed window. There are lawn chairs and a table sprawled on the grass a few feet away from the deck. You sometimes see people there. You recognise Chan, and the large alpha who brought you here that first day. Lots of men filter in and out of the backyard, talking and laughing. After three days of sitting by the window, you see your alpha there too.

He’s wearing a black suit, but he takes the jacket off when steps up to a chair, draping it on the back. He drops into the chair with what looks like a tired sigh, running a hand through his hair and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. There’s a man with him, just as tall but way skinnier. His hair is darker and longer. He settles into another chair and pulls out a box of cigarettes, offering one to your alpha. He accepts it, lights it, and takes a long drag.

You watch the two men talk a little. You still don’t know your alpha’s name. You wonder who he is. Why he mated you and took you from your home. You’re a little upset that your mother and you were so detached from the business side of things in your family. Maybe if you knew a little more, you wouldn’t be so lost. Maybe you would know what to do in this situation.

A knock on your door surprises you, and you turn your head sharply towards the sound. You don’t expect anyone right now, it’s not time to eat. The key clinks in the lock and it opens, a head of long, dark hair poking in. You scent the air, and you’re even more shocked. It’s an omega.

He smiles at you and steps in, closing the door behind him.

“Y/N?”

You’re a little caught off guard. You haven’t been referred to by name since you got here. Hell, barely anyone has talked to you at all. Chan worked silently, changing your bandage and leaving every couple of days. The maid never said a word. Your own alpha said less than three sentences to you.

You nod sharply. He walks closer to the bed and sits down on the edge. You remain sitting on the seat by the window.

“My name is Jihoon. I work for Seungcheol.”

You blink a few times but don’t reply.

“He asked me to come down to see you. That maybe you would feel more at ease if an omega was around.”

You have enough brain to realise who the hell this Seungcheol is. So that’s his name. You watch the omega with wary eyes. He stands up and walks closer to where you’re sitting, peering out the window. He sees the two men in the backyard, still talking. He nods to himself, as if making a decision.

“Okay, I’m going to be honest with you.” Something in his tone shifts to be harder, more direct. He reaches into his pocket and tugs out a small leather book. He pulls it open and your eyes widen. It’s not a book. A golden badge gleams at you, along with an ID. You read the name. LEE JIHOON. Shock grips you. He’s an officer?

“As you can see, I’m not exactly who I appear to be.” He pockets the badge. “I’ve been here for years, undercover, and I’ve been scoping this family out for a long, long time. They don’t know who I really am. To them, I’m just a worker.”

You are frozen solid, not even pulling a breath in, watching the man with wide eyes. He takes a moment before he speaks again, as if waiting for you to process his words before he gives you more information.

“I have been working silently to take this family down for a while now. Seungcheol, he is the last Choi son. If he falls, the whole empire collapses.”

A chill runs down your spine. Choi. Your alpha is a Choi son? Your mind reels. You may be sheltered, and you may be naïve, but even the biggest, most dense idiot in Korea knows who the Choi sons are. A long line of formidable alphas, raised under the tutelage of their equally scary patriarch. At their height, the Choi sons had more power than even the most high ranking government officials. Over the last few years, the empire fell out a little, with the Choi sons dying one by one after their father. But the whispers remained. Their reputation precedes them. Everyone, whether part of the underground crime business or not, knew not to touch the Choi family with a ten foot pole.

You are a Choi son’s omega. The last surviving son.

It’s almost too much to take in, but it makes sense. The huge house, the unending lawns. From what little you can see, only a family like the Choi clan can afford a place like this. But along with shock, all you feel is confusion. What the hell does a Choi son want from you? You’re no one. You know enough to understand that while you had a cushy life, the Kwon family is not nearly the same level as these people. Yet, here you are. Why? Did Soonyoung do something? Is this revenge?

Jihoon speaks again after a long moment.

“When I found out he took an omega against her will, I knew this could be the final nail in this family’s coffin.” He says. “You’re an outsider, just like I am. You aren’t like them. You want nothing to do with them.”

He leans forward so he can catch your eye. “I can get you away from here. If we take him down, you will be free again. But for that, you have to work with me. You have to help me end this once and for all.”

Your voice is hoarse when you speak, considering that you haven’t said a word in so long. “I can’t do anything.”

He nods resolutely. “Yes, you can. You’re his mate. If anyone can earn his trust, it’s you. The omegas in this family work differently. They aren’t kept in the dark, they work alongside the alphas and betas. You can involve yourself in their operations. You can get me information.”

You feel apprehension claw at you. This seems way above anything you are capable of. “Can’t you do it yourself?”

He shakes his head. “Sadly, I can’t. No matter what I do, I’m not part of his inner circle. There are some things he shares with only a few select people. You could be one of them. You just have to cozy up to him a little.”

You are shaking your head before he is even finished talking. “I can’t.”

“You can. Don’t you want to see your brother again?”

You freeze, eyes wide. “Soonyoung is alive?”

Jihoon nods. “He is. He’s injured, and pissed as all hell, but he’s alive.”

Your eyes mist over in relief. You can’t believe it. You had spent days trying to contend with the fact that your brother is likely dead. Just knowing he’s alive has taken away so much of your worry.

“So you’ll do this?” Jihoon says. “You’ll help me?”

Your hands ball into fists. You want to see Soonyoung again. You want to get out of here. So you nod.

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

………………………………………..

Jeonghan insists that Seungcheol should go to his omega again. Frankly, Seungcheol doesn’t want to, but his advisor insists that he should.

“Jihoon talked to her.” He offers. “He said it went well, that she’s more at ease now. Take her something nice to eat, maybe offer her to come out of that godforsaken room.”

Seungcheol is unwilling, and he doesn’t really think you’ll have a change of heart so quick, considering how stubborn you have been so far. But he gives in to Jeonghan’s request anyway. If you’re going to be a permanent part of his life, then Jeonghan is right. He has to keep trying.

You’re sitting by the windowsill when he comes in today, your legs tucked to your chest as always. You look so small like this, curled against the glass, staring outside. Something scratches at Seungcheol’s chest. You really need to leave this room. It’s a miracle you haven’t gone crazy by now.

You eye him as he sits in his usual chair across the bed. The tray is placed on the table by the bed as usual, the bowl steaming. It’s freshly made just for you. Seungcheol leans forward to place his elbows on his thighs, waiting for you to catch his eye before he speaks.

“Please eat.”

He doesn’t expect you to unfold yourself and walk carefully to the bed, sitting down and pulling the table closer to you. He sits completely still, watching you take the first spoonful. Something in him eases, like a knot being untied.

He watches you eat, watches how your cheeks flush a little when the food warms you up on the inside. Your scent, a sour tinge that has been stinging his nose every time he sees you, sweetens just a little. Seungcheol still has no clue what you actually smell like. You’ve been so on edge, so fearful this entire time, that he could never place your actual scent. He gets a whiff of it now, and it’s soft and light. He’s sure that if you were truly happy, it would smell even better. He wonders if he’ll ever know what that’s like.

A part of him hopes he does.

You empty the bowl in minutes, and Seungcheol is already pressing the portable pager in his pocket. The maid comes in with a second helping, and he watches your eyes widen in surprise. You don’t protest though, silently eating it. He wonders if you’ve been starving a little since you got here. His stomach twists.

He’s a terrible alpha.

You get halfway through the second bowl before you finally let up, pushing the tray away. He wants you to keep eating, because you being well fed makes him feel less guilty about this whole thing, but you shake your head when he says so. He decides not to push.

Once the table is cleared, Seungcheol walks to the window and undoes it with the key in his pocket. He tugs it open, lips pursing. This should’ve been open from day one, but Mingyu has always been overly cautious. He thought you would jump out the window and try to take your own life, so he had it locked. Seungcheol thinks he needs to take a leap of trust now, especially after you’ve put your trust in him by eating a meal. You both will go nowhere if he doesn’t return the faith you’ve placed in him.

“I’m sorry for keeping this closed.” He says. “It will be open now, for as long as you want it. And the door will be unlocked. You can come out and look around. If you don’t like this room, you can choose another. It’s your house, go wherever you want.”

You don’t say anything to him, but you do nod. He’ll take it. Usually, you don’t acknowledge him at all, so this is a huge win for him. He wants to do more, make you trust him more, but he won’t push. Not yet.

He doesn’t lock the door when he leaves. He can only hope that you come out of the room now.

……………………………………

The house is huge.

You didn’t see any of it when you got here, considering you were carried inside with a blindfold on. You didn’t even realise how massive the estate was until now, when you’ve tentatively stepped out of the room. You’re in the room at the far end of the hallway, which is probably why you had such a good view of the backyard. There’s more doors on either side of the hallway than you can count. You don’t go into any of them, walking down the beige carpet leading to the stairs. They’re wide and curving down. You hesitate but step on them anyway, wary of your surroundings. So far, you haven’t seen anyone else, but you can hear voices downstairs.

You find Chan in the kitchen with a plate of eggs, toast and a cup of coffee. He’s wearing frameless glasses that rest on the end of his nose. He’s a little surprised to see you, but he gives you a warm smile. He pours you a cup as well, and insists you drink it even when you try to refuse. It’s warm and soothing in your throat. You sit on the stool opposite to him at the kitchen island.

“Do you work here?” You ask tentatively, unsure of what else to really say to the beta. He nods.

“As soon as I graduated nursing school. My dad worked for his dad too. I’m sure you know a lot of this works within families.”

You nod, understanding. After all, the father of the alpha you were promised to also worked with your father. Things like this are usually generational. That’s why it’s so hard to dismantle crime families. Outsiders aren’t allowed. You think back to the conversation you had with Jihoon. It’s impressive that he has managed to destroy so much of the family’s power while being an outside eye looking in. He must be really good at what he does.

Maybe he really can help you get out.

Chan decides he wants to show you the rest of the house, so he takes you on a little tour. There's an in-home theatre, an office, and even a library. This is where you linger, feeling giddy at just how many floor to ceiling shelves are crammed full of books. You had a little reading nook back at home too, but that’s nothing compared to this. You eye a very cozy looking armchair in the center of the room, facing the fireplace. It would feel so nice to curl up there with a good book.

The gardens at the back that you saw through the window are nothing compared to what is actually there. There are two outdoor courts, one with a net in between and one with two basketball hoops on either end.

“We all love sports a lot.” Chan comments, pointing to small sheds near the corner, likely filled with sporting equipment. “It’s an easy way to relax and bond.”

It’s new to you, definitely, that the family is so close to the men they work with. Well, it’s not much of a family anymore. It’s just Seungcheol. But still, Chan even lounging around the house is strange, considering your family doctor lived off the grounds in a place within walking distance, and only came into the house when called. It seems things really do work differently here.

You sit down in one of the lawn chairs, taking a deep breath. It feels nice to step outside and take in some fresh air. Chan eyes you for a bit before stepping forward.

“May I?” He holds his hands up to your neck. You nod slowly, tilting your head back so he can peel the bandage off your skin.

“I don’t think you need this anymore.” He mumbles, eyeing the wound. It hasn’t pained you in days, so you’re sure it is healed. When he steps away, you gingerly brush your hand over it. The skin is still sensitive, and will likely be for a long time, but it’s not a bother.

Chan sits with you for a while, telling you little tidbits about his life. You try to glean anything from it that might help you or Jihoon, but there isn’t much. It’s mostly stories from his university days, or the worst injuries he’s seen since he started working with the family. You’re sure none of this will be interesting information to your new ally. Almost an hour into talking, Chan’s pager beeps. He eyes it for a little bit before standing up.

“I have to go now. Will you be okay here or do you want to go inside?”

You’re really sick and tired of the indoors, so you shake your head. “I’ll be okay.”

He gives you another smile and leaves, and you continue looking across the lush, green grounds. The wind blows softly, and it feels calming when it crosses through the strands of your hair. You feel almost a little sleepy, your body buzzing and cozy.

The wind carries with it the scent of cinnamon and oak.

It’s all over the house, you had noticed when you first stepped out of your room. It’s very faint, and kind of lingering, but you still feel it all around you. It laves over your skin, like something that is alive. Every wall, every brick of this house carries Seungcheol’s scent. It’s like these objects speak for him, tell his story.

It gets denser now. Your nose twitches. You turn around.

He’s standing on the deck, watching you. He’s wearing a white Henley, the sleeves pushed up, his hands in his pockets. A silver chain gleams against his neck. When he sees you looking, he steps onto the grass and walks closer to you. You try to avoid his eyes. He seats himself in the chair Chan vacated, letting out a light sigh.

“Glad to see you out here.” He speaks. “Do you like the house?”

You nod hesitantly. “The library is really nice.”

It seems to catch him a little off guard, and you realise this is the first time you’ve spoken to him. You feel a little shy about how he looks at you, but he recovers quickly enough.

“That’s good.” His voice sounds more cautious. “You can have a closer look later. If you want to change anything, let me know.”

You nod slowly. You’re surprised he’s willing to allow any alterations, since the library is clearly built to cater to him specifically. It flatters you somewhat, but you shake it away as best as you can.

After a bout of silence, Seungcheol leans forward and pulls out a box of cigarettes from his back pocket. You scrunch your nose when he lights it and takes a drag, the smell hitting your nose. He immediately notices.

“Not a fan of cigarettes?” He asks.

You shake your head.

He leans forward towards the table, stubbing the freshly lit cigarette into the ashtray. You blink, surprised. He doesn’t say anything more. You fidget a little.

“It just muddies your scent.” You say, trying to justify your disapproval. You don’t want to irritate him. You know how these men are with their addictions. Soonyoung can’t go a day without emptying a pack, no matter how much your mother used to reprimand him. He'd shout at anyone who tried to make him quit. Even Seokmin refused to stop smoking, even when you asked many times. He didn’t say anything about it, but the corner of his mouth would harden in annoyance. But Seungcheol just nods.

“Okay. I won’t smoke again.”

No fuss. No irritated huff or sharp gaze, or telling you to mind your business. He pockets the box and stays seated, peering out at the grounds, not saying anything more.

Your heart squeezes a little. It kicks at your ribs. You fiddle with your fingers, trying to stop it racing. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but the readiness of you making a demand, and him fulfilling it, it feels wonderful. You can’t help how it makes you a little queasy, in a pleasant way.

He sits with you for hours, engaging you in conversation only sparingly, but dealing with other business as it arises. His phone is ringing constantly, and he answers it every time, his replies short and curt. Some men filter in and out of the backyard to show him something or let him know the progress on whatever business they’re attending to. It’s fascinating to watch. No one in your family ever brought anything related to the business back home. Not your father, and not Soonyoung. You knew for a fact that your mother knew nothing about how things worked, and neither did you. It feels invigorating to sit here like this, to not be asked to leave the room with the other omegas when the alphas and betas sit down to talk about business, swatting at you like you’re a fly. You might not understand all of it, but the fact that your presence isn’t a bother to Seungcheol makes your heart flutter.

Nothing any of the men say is too apparent, you can’t make sense of most of it. Seungcheol listens silently, barks out quick orders, dismisses them. You notice the difference in tone immediately. He doesn’t speak to you like that at all. With you, it’s softer, more gentle. You try not to let your thoughts linger on that for too long.

A few hours later, another man comes to see him. You recognise him as the man who is with him often when you peer out from your window, the dark haired, skinny one. He appraises you with sharp eyes, the only man coming to see your alpha who has looked directly at you. Seungcheol doesn’t stop him, but the sharpness of his eyes makes you a little jumpy.

“Nice to see you out and about.” He quips, voice softer than you anticipated. His eyes are shrewd, as if he knows more than he’s letting on. He’s also the first man to talk to you directly. You wonder who he is. He obviously has Seungcheol’s trust if he’s so brazen about addressing you.

He doesn’t say anything more to you, sitting down on a spare chair and talking to Seungcheol extensively, a tablet in hand. His voice is low, but there’s a lot of talk about shipments to Busan, what times they are scheduled, what routes they are taking and what goods will be on them. You stare off into the distance, trying to memorise all of it the best you can, wondering if it will be of any help to Jihoon anyway. When the man finally stands up to leave, he gives you a little smile.

“You should be here more often, omega. He’s calmer when you’re around.” He says. You blink, shocked.

“Jeonghan.” There’s warning in Seungcheol’s voice, so the man, Jeonghan, just smiles thinly and walks away. As he passes you, he places a large hand on your head, patting it. It feels weirdly affectionate, and not at all what you’re expecting. Seungcheol sighs.

“Sorry about him.” He mumbles. “He means well.”

As the sky dims a little, streaks of yellow and orange break through the blue. You’ve spent the whole day lounging around outside, but it’s getting colder now as the sun goes down. Seungcheol stands up and stretches a little, the fabric of his shirt expanding as he does. The chain gleams around his neck in the golden light. You look away. He huffs out a long breath.

“Let’s go inside. It’s cold now. And I have to leave soon to work through some things.”

You stand up and walk alongside him silently. He walks you all the way to your room, stopping briefly in the kitchen to ask that your dinner be brought up. When you get back to the room, you realise it has been cleaned, and you can see some products on the dresser top.

“It’s just some essentials.” Seungcheol explains when he follows your gaze. “There are some clothes in the closet too. I’ll send you out with Jihoon in a few days and you can buy what you want.”

You don’t really know what to say. You don’t buy your own clothes, since Soonyoung thought it was too dangerous to let you step out. Whatever you wanted, you sent him pictures or let him know, and someone working for him got it for you. The thought of going out yourself is both exciting and frightening, but you try to shelf it for later.

“Thank you.” You manage to get out. You aren’t lying, you truly are. So far, he has done nothing to harm you. Well, except the mark marring your neck, which he put there against your will.

He’s standing closer to you than ever before as he nods. His eyes dart to your neck. This close, he can see the mark despite your hair covering your skin. He brushes the strands back, just like he did that first time he saw you, but slower this time. His thumb brushes over the mark, and you gasp at the feeling. It sends a shiver down your spine, your nerves tingling. You flush and bite your lip when you realise the sound that escaped you is loud enough for him to hear.

Embarrassment claws at you. But he doesn’t do anything, only lets his eyes pass over the mark and up to meet your stare. His gaze has darkened, more smoldering now, more charged. A long moment passes as you watch each other. The air thickens until he opens his mouth, breaking it.

“Get some rest. Dayoung will bring dinner up soon.”

His words are a mere whisper, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the air around you. You nod. His hand pulls away. Your fingers curl into fists at how empty and cold it feels. He shuffles out of the door, closing it gently behind him.

You stare at it for a long time, unmoving.

………………………………

“I don’t know if any of this is going to help you.” You shake out a brown wool scarf, holding it between your fingertips carefully. It’s so soft. Somewhere behind you, Jihoon hums, face shadowed by deep thought.

“I do know all this.” He says. “These specific shipments and timings aren’t exactly confidential information.”

You turn to give him an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, his face clearing a little. “No, this is good. He’s taking meetings with you present this early, which means he isn’t hesitant about discussing business around you. He trusts you, for some reason. Probably because you’re his mate. We can use this.”

Something gnaws at you as you listen to him. ‘He trusts you’. Does he? Is Jihoon right? You stare down at the scarf again, the material slightly scrunched under your fingers. If it’s true, if Seungcheol does trust you, then why? He must know that you aren’t loyal to him, even if you are his mate now. He took you by force. You don’t actually belong to him, mating doesn’t work like that. Omegas submit only to the alpha that their hearts truly desire. You don’t desire him. You don’t even know him. So how on earth can he trust you?

Maybe this is why Jihoon was able to bring the Choi empire to its knees. Maybe his brothers were trusting with everyone too, including an outsider like Jihoon. Maybe that was their downfall.

You blink, shocked by your own thoughts, by the sudden venom behind them. You’re standing in this luxury store, free to buy whatever you want, because of that man. And you’re using his questionable trust in you to feed the very mouth that will rip the heart from his chest.

You place the scarf back on the shelf you picked it from. You can’t buy it. It’s dirty with the stain of your sin.

It becomes too many bags to carry at some point. Despite not really being who he is pretending to show himself as, Jihoon has a grand time buying you whatever your eyes even slightly linger on. Your protests don’t mean much, since he says he’s under strict orders from his fake boss that you should get whatever you want, no matter how much. You feel guilty spending Seungcheol’s dime, but Jihoon tells you not to. It’s illegal money, so you might as well enjoy it, his exact words. If anyone deserves to, it’s you.

Seungcheol sent that tall, intimidating alpha with you, who you now know is called Mingyu. He heads the family’s security detail, and since you’re pretty much the only family, he’s exclusively responsible for looking after you. He doesn’t come into the stores with you, opting to stand outside, but he’s useful because he can carry a hefty amount of bags in his arms. When he speaks for the first time, his voice is higher and more bubbly than you imagined. It’s almost cute.

When you come back home, he carries everything to your room and dumps it on your bed. You organise all of it in the wardrobe except an oversized pashmina sweater, which you put on yourself because the material is too soft and inviting not to. Chan is nosing around the house as usual, and he pokes his head in as you’re going through all the stuff, so he joins you. He talks your head off, just like that day you were in the kitchen with him, and you just listen. It’s nice, because he fills the silent air a little bit, almost like a radio.

Seungcheol comes to see you after sundown, just as you’re cleaning up the last of the bags.

“I think we spent too much. I’m sorry.” You say, genuinely feeling a bit bad. But he simply shakes his head as he walks closer to where you stand in front of the dresser. He thumbs at the sleeve of your sweater, and the corner of his mouth ticks up a little.

“Pretty.” He comments, and you try to will away the heat that invades your cheeks. He’s not wearing a sweater, still in a thin dress shirt, despite the winter fast approaching. You wonder if he’s cold.

“Did you have dinner yet?” He asks. You shake your head.

“We had a late lunch at a restaurant, so I’m not too hungry.” You reply. The space between his thick eyebrows creases a little. He nods.

“I’m about to eat. Sit with me.” He phrases it as a statement, but there’s question in his tone. You nod.

“Okay.”

The dining table downstairs is set up for two place settings instead of one when you follow him there. When you sit to eat, Seungcheol puts food on your plate first. You try to protest.

“Just have a little. Not a full meal.” He says, now focused on filling in own plate. You sigh and reluctantly nibble on the meat, just to appease him.

Why do you want to appease him?

“Um,” you finally speak when the silence becomes too heavy, “H-how was your day?”

It feels very weird to ask this, and you wince a little at how it sounds, even to your ear. But Seungcheol’s face softens with amusement as he looks up at you.

“It was fine. Same old.” He replies. “But you’re the one who had an eventful day. Tell me about it.”

You shrug. “It was fun. I’ve never been shopping before.”

He hums. “Right. Jeonghan told me the omegas in your family don’t do that.”

You nod. “We aren’t allowed to leave the house. Too much danger.”

That makes him huff a little, almost sounding like a scoff. “There’s never enough danger to imprison someone like that. If you’re not powerful or influential enough to take care of your omegas then you don’t deserve omegas.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the confidence in the deep timbre of his voice as he speaks those words. His eyes are focused on his meal, so he doesn’t see the surprise on your face, thankfully.

“Soonyoung tried his best.” You mumble. Seungcheol sighs.

“I’m sure he did. But things are different here. You go wherever you want. Keeping you safe is my worry, not yours.”

God, you wish he didn’t talk like that. Like he cares for you and wants to protect you. It makes your omega whine inside, makes your heart sing, makes something knot deep in the pit of your stomach. You know you’re staring, but you can’t help it. There’s something very grounding about him. Sturdy. Reliable. You breathe in the notes of oak in his scent. It’s so apt. A strong, mighty tree, resilient and stable. Like him.

“Do you get lonely in the house?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Chan says you spend most of your time in the library. You like to read?”

You nod, feeling a little excitement brew in you. “I love to read. I had a library at home too. Not as big as this, but it was comfy. You have a very nice collection here. Are they all yours?”

He shakes his head. “My mother’s. She loved reading too. She could spend hours if not days with a book. Used to drive my father crazy.” He chuckles. “‘Always with those damn books’, he would say. But I know he loved that she was so passionate about them. That library is basically her entire life in one room.”

You are a little caught off guard by the revelation. Your heart squeezes. “I’m sorry, I shifted some stuff around. I shouldn’t have-”

He’s already shaking his head, looking up at you. “Please don’t be. Those books would collect dust if it wasn’t for you. You’re keeping her alive, in a sense.”

He places some stir fried vegetables on your plate. You pick one up and nibble at it thoughtfully.

“Can I ask what happened to her?”

Seungcheol chews slower now, as if thinking of the words. “Primary MS. Took her legs first. She was on a wheelchair for a few years. Progressed upwards, her bladder, bowel, lungs, until she couldn’t breathe.”

You look down at your plate, unable to bear looking at him. “I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol shrugs. “She was happy until the very end. Never heard her speak without a laugh, even when her voice got frail.”

Seungcheol pauses, the chopsticks hovering over his plate. He stares into the distance. “My father did too, because he didn’t want her to think he couldn’t live without her. But I never saw him smile a single day after she was gone.”

You blink rapidly when your eyes mist over. The air is somber, and you can practically feel the grief in it. You don’t want to ask about Seungcheol’s brothers. You know they were all killed. He’s the only one left.

You wonder how alone he feels.

“My mother was sick too.” You offer. “It wasn’t chronic. It took her within a couple of weeks. Some lung thing. I don't really know. The doctors told us about it, but it’s hard to listen to anything after they tell you that your mother is going to die.”

Seungcheol nods slowly. “I understand.”

Maybe he does. Besides Soonyoung, you think he might be the first person to really get it. You wonder what’s worse, watching someone you love slowly wither away, trying to come to terms with their inevitable death, or losing someone you love so quickly that you can’t even process it.

You both know pain, just different variations of it.

An exasperated chuckle leaves Seungcheol’s mouth, as if he can’t believe how depressing everything got all of a sudden. He shifts a little, as if to break away from the air that has settled over you like a thick blanket. You give him a tiny smile, and he returns it, eyes soft. He places more meat on your plate. You huff.

“You said I wouldn’t have to eat.”

“You’re keeping me company.” He retorts. “I’d feel awkward if I was the only one eating. Just take little bites.”

You shake your head but give in anyway, doing as he asks. He eats seconds, then thirds, and you watch with interest as he puts it all away like it’s nothing. You can see why he’s so physically massive. He must need a lot of calories just to maintain what he looks like. He reminds you almost of a giant puppy in this moment.

When he’s finally done, he leans back and takes a long gulp of water. He eyes you when you stand up.

“You should walk around a little.” You suggest. “You ate a lot.”

He pouts a little, as if he deeply resents the idea of walking right now. He looks, dare you say, cute like this. You can’t believe that just a few weeks ago, you were deathly afraid of him.

“Come on. The gardens are so nice at night. Let’s walk around a little.”

He gives in pretty quickly, standing up. “Fine. I do feel a little bloated.”

You strangle a snort, wondering how he can say that when all you see under his tight shirt is a set of hard abs. But you remain silent as you both head out of the back door and off the deck to the rolling plains of grass behind the house.

The night is peaceful, if a little cold. You’re glad for your sweater, and you still wonder how he’s wearing nothing but a shirt and he doesn’t look bothered at all. He keeps a respectable distance between you two, his hands in his pockets. Your mind relaxes the more you walk aimlessly, drifting. Crickets chirp, the grass crunches under your shoes. Already, you can see the dew forming on the blades.

“What are you thinking about?” Seungcheol asks after a bout of silence.

You blink, looking up from the ground. He already has his eyes on you. His gaze still feels heavy, despite the fact that it’s on you more often now. You are not used to him.

“Just how drastically my life has changed so quickly.” You are honest with him. “I never would’ve imagined all this a few weeks ago.”

Seungcheol sighs, looking at his feet as he walks. “I don’t think I can ever take away this beginning, or make it any less painful.”

You don’t reply.

“And I don’t think I can make any excuse in the world to justify what I did.” His voice is soft, so delicate that it feels like it’s walking on a thin line. “If I could change it, I would. If I could leave you alone for the rest of your life, not bothered by me or anyone else, I would.”

Your walking has slowed. The air fogs as it leaves his mouth when he speaks.

“But I think,” his eyes bore into yours, “I think I can’t leave you alone. Or maybe I don’t want to. I want to see you every day if I can. If you’ll let me.”

You’ve stopped walking, standing stationary on the grass. There’s distance between you, but you suspect that there really isn’t. That feeling of something crawling under your skin, it’s less shaky now, more solid, steady.

It’s him. You feel him.

You stay outside until your hands are numb. Even the weight of your expensive sweater can’t keep the cold out, but warmth seeps in your bones, larger than life, all encompassing, a certainty.

You let it carry the cold away.

Someone reached for his arm. “Chan—”

He shrugged them off, pointing at her, eyes burning. “You’re going to pay for this. You hear me?”

Gemma swallowed hard, her hands trembling at her sides. She looked genuinely afraid now, not of consequences, but of him. Of how close he looked to losing control.

“I—I didn’t mean—” she stammered.

Chan laughed once, sharp and broken. “Get away from me.”

He turned and stormed out before anyone could stop him, the door slamming so hard it echoed down the hall.

He quickly stumbled towards the bathroom at the end of the hallway of the meeting room’s floor and slammed the door shut, locking it, palms braced against the sink as his reflection stared back at him—eyes wild, face pale, chest rising too fast.

He tried to breathe normally, but his breaths came jagged anyway, one piling on top of the other until his vision blurred and his fingers began to shake. His heart hammered like it was trying to escape his ribcage, panic clawing up his throat.

No, no, no. He cannot have a panic attack now.

He splashed cold water onto his face, but it didn’t help. His vision blurred anyway, spots dancing in front of his eyes. His heart was racing so fast it scared him.

This was too much.

He bent forward, gripping the porcelain, forehead resting against the cool mirror as everything crashed into him at once—the lies, the months of guilt, the weight of what he had lost.

And instinctively, painfully, his mind reached for you.

Even when he was miles away, somehow you felt it when he was on the verge of a panic attack. Somehow when he was spiraling or if he was close to breaking, your name would light up his phone. He used to joke that you shared one soul split into two bodies. That you were wired into him in a way no one else ever could be. 

You would’ve known. You always did.

If you were nearby, you’d rush to him without a word, wrapping your arms around his shaking frame, pressing soft kisses to his temple, your hands steady against his back as his breathing slowed to match yours.

“I’ve got you, baby,” you’d whisper every time. “Just breathe with me.” 

His chest tightened painfully. He sucked in a sharp breath as the realization hit him that you won’t be here. And you weren’t going to call and you weren’t going to come running down a hallway or knock on a bathroom door anymore, because he had lost the right to be held by you.

That reality shattered what little control he had left. 

He slid down the wall beside the sink until he was sitting on the cold tile floor, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around himself like he could somehow replace your warmth. His breathing came in broken sobs now, chest heaving, body shaking uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered into the empty bathroom, voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

But apologies didn’t reach you anymore and there was a very real, terrifying chance they never would.

His head fell forward as tears finally spilled, hot and relentless. He cried for the love he destroyed. For the future that vanished overnight. For the person he had been when you were still there to steady him.

But could he blame you for leaving? No. He deserved this. 

When Chan stepped out of the bathroom, his face was still pale, eyes rimmed red, jaw set tight like it was the only thing holding him together.

Gemma was standing there waiting. He stopped short, every muscle in his body stiffening.

“You have some nerve,” he muttered coldly, voice stripped of emotion, “showing your face in front of me.”

She flinched.

“Chan,” she said quickly, hands clasped together, knuckles white. “That night… nothing happened between us.”

The words hit him like a slap. He froze.

“What?” he asked, disbelief sharp in his tone.

She swallowed, eyes darting to the side before meeting his again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to say this before. You have to understand—I had no choice but to drag you into this mess.”

His chest tightened painfully. “What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped. “What do you mean you dragged me?”

Her voice trembled. “Please. Let me explain. Just… let’s sit down.”

For a moment, he looked like he might explode. His fists clenched at his sides, breath uneven, mind spinning too fast to keep up.

Finally, he nodded stiffly. “Fine.”

He led her toward his studio. The floor was eerily quiet— it was an off day for his band so there were no staff, nor music echoing through the halls, just empty rooms..

Before opening the door, Chan stopped.

“Wait,” he said sharply. “I’m calling someone.”

He stepped aside and pulled out his phone, hands shaking as he dialed. He couldn’t do this alone. He wouldn’t.

Minho answered on the second ring.

“Hyung?” Minho said immediately, already sensing something was wrong.

“Are you at the office building?”

“Yeah, I’m at the dance practice room, why?”

“Come down at the studio. Now,” Chan said.

Minutes later, Minho walked in, eyes scanning Chan’s face. He was standing at the hallway outside his studio room, as he saw Minho approaching he nodded towards the studio room and opened the door, Minho took in the empty room before flicking Gemma sitting stiffly on the couch, fingers fidgeting in her lap.

“What’s going on?” Minho asked quietly.

Chan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “She just told me… that nothing happened between us that night.”

Minho’s brows furrowed. “What?”

They both turned toward Gemma. She shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, shoulders hunched inward like she was bracing for impact.

“Chan,” she began, voice shaky, “I’m not some monster. I’m just… a person struggling with money right now.”

The room went silent. Minho’s jaw tightened instantly. Chan felt something cold settle in his chest.

“What does that have to do with ruining my life?” Chan asked, voice dangerously calm.

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I was desperate. I needed security. I needed someone powerful enough to protect me. And when that opportunity came, I—”

“You used him,” Minho cut in sharply, stepping forward. “Say it properly.”

Gemma flinched.

“I didn’t think it would go this far,” she whispered. “I didn’t think he’d lose her.”

Chan felt dizzy.

Images flooded his mind—your tears, the engagement ring hitting the floor, the way you walked out without looking back.

“You watched me destroy the woman I love,” he said quietly. “And you said nothing.”

“I was scared,” she cried. “I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to abort the child—I’ve always wanted to be a mother. I just… I thought if I tied you to this, I’d be safe.”

Minho laughed once, humorless. “You didn’t tie him to anything. You trapped him.”

Chan closed his eyes, pain searing through him.

Chan’s voice came out hoarse.

“You said… nothing happened between us that night?”

Gemma nodded slowly, eyes glossy. “You were drunk. Barely standing. I helped you to your hotel room.”

Chan’s hands curled into fists.

“I had spoken to the father of this baby just hours before that,” she continued. “He made it very clear he wanted me gone. He didn’t want me. He didn’t want the child. Nothing.”

Chan tilted his head slightly, trying to process. His chest felt tight.

Minho crossed his arms. “Go on.”

Gemma swallowed.

“From the lobby to the lift… all you talked about was her. Her laugh. How much you missed her. How you couldn’t wait to go home to her.” Her voice cracked. “When we entered the room, you stopped me. You said her name. You said you loved her.”

Chan squeezed his eyes shut.

“I was already emotional,” she went on. “Everything in my life felt uncertain. And seeing how deeply you loved her…” She laughed bitterly. “I got jealous. I thought—even I deserve to be loved like that.”

Minho’s jaw tightened.

“You asked me if I needed a place to stay,” Gemma said quietly. “I knew you meant it kindly. It was late. I was exhausted. The bed looked better than my apartment. So I stayed.”

Chan felt sick.

“The next morning,” she continued, “you woke up angry. You told me to leave. You insulted me. You treated me like I was nothing.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And I realized… you thought we slept together.”

Chan’s breathing turned shallow.

“I was humiliated,” she said. “My ego was bruised. So I thought—fine. Let him think whatever he wants.”

She wiped her cheeks roughly.

“Later, I told my roommate everything. She said the baby’s father wouldn’t help anyway… and that you were too kind. Too responsible.” Her voice trembled. “She suggested I say it was yours.”

The room felt like it was spinning.

“I thought you’d handle it quietly,” Gemma rushed. “Pay for everything. Protect me. And after the baby was born, I’d tell you the truth. I know you, Chan. You would’ve understood. You would’ve helped me raise the child.”

Chan’s legs gave out.

He dropped to his knees.

“You…” his voice broke completely. “You let me believe we slept together.”

His hands pressed against the floor as if grounding himself. “You watched me destroy my life. You watched her walk away.”

Gemma sobbed. “I’m telling you now because I know what’s coming. I know you’ll put a restraining order on me. I know I’ll never be able to contact you again.” She looked desperate. “Please… help me.”

“You have some audacity,” Minho snapped, stepping forward. “You manipulated a drunk man. You lied about a pregnancy. You ruined a relationship and still have the nerve to beg?”

“I was scared!” Gemma shouted back. “I was alone!”

“You were cruel,” Minho shot back. “There’s a difference.”

Chan stayed on the floor, staring blankly ahead, heart pounding painfully. His chest felt tight, like every breath scraped against his ribs. Slowly, he lifted his head, eyes dark and hollow as they locked onto her.

“Then tell me something,” he said quietly.

The room went still.

“Why,” Chan continued, voice shaking despite his effort to steady it, “were you so shocked when my manager started reading the DNA report?”

Gemma froze.

“I—” she swallowed hard. “I didn’t know you were running a DNA test.”

Chan let out a short, bitter laugh that held no humor at all. “What?”

“I thought,” she rushed on, panic seeping into her words, “I thought your team was just running basic tests. For the baby’s health. That’s what managers do, right? I didn’t think— I didn’t think they’d actually test paternity.”

Minho scoffed under his breath.

“It caught me off guard,” Gemma admitted, eyes darting around the room. “If I’d known, I would’ve told you. I would’ve talked to you first.”

Chan’s jaw clenched. “Then why did you say “maybe it was the other guy”?”

Her shoulders sagged.

“Because I—” she faltered, voice dropping to a whisper. “Because I was scared. If I said the truth… your team wouldn’t have spared me. I panicked.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“If your team had known,” Gemma whispered, “I’d be in police custody by now.”

Minho let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah?” he said coldly. “Well guess what. I’m exposing your ass.”

Gemma’s head snapped toward Chan in panic. She crawled a step closer, desperation written all over her face. “Chan, please—please stop him. You’re a good person. You’re kind. You wouldn’t do this to me. I was afraid so I lied.”

Chan stared at her, cold and devastating clarity settling in his expression.

“So you let me destroy my life,” he said softly. “You let me lose the woman I loved… because you were afraid.”

Gemma didn’t answer. Well, she couldn’t.

Minho crossed his arms, disgust clear on his face. “Get her out of here.”

Chan didn’t move. Didn’t speak again. He just stared there on the floor, the weight of everything crushing down on him—knowing that even with the truth exposed, even with her lies unraveled, the damage had already been done.

Chan lifted his head slowly, eyes red but no longer unfocused.

“If you had told me the truth,” he said, voice eerily steady, “I would’ve helped you financially anyway.”

Gemma sobbed looking down.

“You didn’t have to lie,” he continued. “You didn’t have to drag my name through the dirt. You didn’t have to let the woman I love walk out of my life believing I betrayed her.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“And when you saw her break up with me,” he added quietly, “you still didn’t say anything.”

Gemma’s lips trembled. “I… I felt greedy,” she admitted in a small voice. “I wanted you to myself. I thought maybe—maybe we could be a family.”

The words hung in the air like poison. Chan turned his head slowly toward Minho.

“Tell her to stop speaking,” he said, tone low and lethal.

Minho stiffened.

“Because if she says one more word,” Chan continued, “I will ruin her. Legally. Publicly. Completely.”

Gemma went pale.

“I’m not threatening you,” Chan added flatly. “I’m informing you.”

Minho stepped forward immediately, positioning himself between them. “You’re done,” he told Gemma sharply. “You’ve said enough.”

Gemma’s hands shook as she nodded, tears spilling freely now. She looked at Chan like she was finally understanding the gravity of what she had done.

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” she whispered.

Chan let out a hollow laugh. Gemma’s shoulders shook as she broke down completely.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Please… please help me. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m scared. I don’t know how to do this alone.”

Chan stayed still for a long moment, staring at the floor. When he finally spoke, his voice was way too calm.

“We’ll get you a lawyer,” he said quietly. “A real one. The father of the child will be located, and he will take responsibility. He’ll pay for what the child needs.”

Gemma looked up, stunned.

“And until that’s sorted,” Chan continued, not meeting her eyes, “I’ll tell my manager to arrange some money. Enough so you’re not desperate. But after today, all communication goes through legal channels. Nothing else. You will not contact me again. Not directly. Not indirectly. Never.”

Minho turned sharply to look at him. For a second, he couldn’t hide the disbelief on his face.

How can hyung still be kind?After everything she’s done?

Gemma clasped her hands together, tears streaming freely. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much. Please… forgive me.”

Chan sniffled looking away. 

She pressed a hand to her stomach unconsciously. “You don’t understand what it feels like. When you realize there’s a life inside you… it changes everything. You start thinking about warmth, safety. About how a child needs stability. A mother will do anything—anything—to protect that.”

Her voice trembled. “I was wrong. I was selfish. But I was terrified.”

Chan flinched at the word mother.

She stood slowly, bowing her head deeply. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Then she left and the door closed softly behind her.

Minho turned back to Chan immediately. “Hyung…”

That was all it took as Chan’s composure shattered.

His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, hands covering his face as a fractured sound slipped from his chest. All the restraint, all the forced calm collapsed at once.

“I lost everything,” he sobbed. “She ruined my life.”

Minho crossed the room in two steps and pulled him into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around him protectively. For the first time since Chan had talked about that night, Minho didn’t hold back.

“It’s not your fault,” Minho said fiercely, voice breaking. “You hear me? This wasn’t your fault.”

Chan cried into his shoulder, body shaking violently, grief pouring out of him in waves. He cried for the love he lost. For the future that vanished. For the way one lie had rewritten his entire life.

Minho held him just as tightly, tears slipping down his own face as he cried for his brother.

The studio stayed silent around them, bearing witness to two men breaking in different ways. 

*********************

You stared at your phone for a long time before doing anything.

Changbin had given you Mingyu’s number almost a month ago. It sat there in your contacts like a quiet question you kept avoiding. You’d told yourself you weren’t ready. That dating another idol sounded exhausting, complicated and… risky.

Did you really want to go through that again?

But tonight felt heavier than usual. The ache of loneliness sat deep in your chest, dull and persistent, and for once, you didn’t want to sit with it alone.

It can be casual, you reasoned. Just a distraction. Nothing serious. Just… something.

So, before you could overthink it, you typed a simple message.

You 

Hi, this is Y/N. Changbin gave me your number, hope that’s okay 

You stared at the screen, heart racing, half-expecting regret to crash into you immediately.

Instead, his reply came almost instantly.

Kim Mingyu 

Hey! I’m glad you texted. I was wondering if you would.

That alone made you smile.

One message turned into two. Two turned into paragraphs. Somehow, two hours disappeared without you noticing. You talked about everything and nothing—music, late-night food cravings, stupid inside jokes Changbin apparently shared with both of you. Mingyu was easy and genuinely funny without trying too hard.

By the end of it, you realized your cheeks hurt from smiling. You set your phone down, staring at the ceiling, a soft laugh slipping out of you before you could stop it.

Damn, you thought. Changbin really knew what he was doing.

The next two weeks passed in a blur of late-night texting and quiet flirting. Voice notes sent when one of you couldn’t sleep. Good morning texts that felt oddly comforting. Little moments of laughter that made the days feel lighter. Mingyu felt… safe. Not in a boring way—but in a way that didn’t demand anything from you.

And then one afternoon, your phone buzzed.

Kim Mingyu 

Do you want to get coffee with me sometime?

You 

I’d like that!

You replied happily, heart fluttering in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe this wouldn’t last and it would just be a chapter, you know that gentle reminder that you were still capable of feeling joy.

And for now… that was enough.

You set your phone down, pressing a hand to your chest as you exhaled slowly. A flicker of guilt settled in, not because you wanted him back, but because Chan had been your first love after all. Letting go of someone who once meant everything was never clean or painless.

But that chapter was over.

He was moving on. There was a child involved now. And even if your heart still ached sometimes, you knew the kindest thing you could do for yourself was to take small, careful steps forward.

One breath at a time.

To distract yourself, you reached for your phone again and opened Instagram, and almost instinctively typed Mingyu’s name into the search bar, just like you had been for the past two weeks. His page loaded, and you couldn’t help but blush.

God, he was unfairly attractive.

Bright smile. Broad shoulders. Effortless warmth even through a screen. 

You were so excited to meet him. 

*********************

Two months into the breakup, Chan finally accepted that staying in the apartment you had once shared was destroying him, it felt like living inside a memory he couldn’t escape. Every corner carried echoes of you—your laughter, your routines, the way you used to hum while doing nothing at all. It was unbearable.

So he packed a bag and moved back into his old dorm, telling himself it was temporary, and that he just needed space.

Now, here he was lying awake long after the lights in the dorm had gone dark, one arm thrown over his eyes like it might quiet the thoughts crashing through his head — replaying everything that had happened that day, over and over again.

He hadn’t slept with anyone else. The truth still echoed in his chest, heavy and sharp all at once. Relief washed over him in waves so strong it almost hurt. Even drunk, even spiraling, even at his lowest—his body hadn’t betrayed what his heart already knew. There had only ever been you. There would only ever be you.

From the very first date, five years ago, he’d known.

You’d laughed at his stupid joke, eyes crinkling, head tipped back just slightly and something inside him had settled, like a puzzle piece clicking into place. He remembered thinking, Oh. It’s her. It’s always going to be her.

That certainty had never left. Not even once.

Now that the truth was out, the urge to run to you—to explain, to beg, to hold you and never let go—was almost unbearable. His fingers twitched with the instinct to reach for his phone.

But then reality pressed in, he had a two-month tour in Europe. The flight was tomorrow morning. And you… you deserved more than a rushed call between schedules and rehearsals. You deserved eye contact. Honesty spoken face-to-face. You deserved him standing in front of you, not hiding behind a screen.

So he decided to wait.

He would finish the tour. He would come back. That, he told himself, was the only respectful way. When he returned—then, and only then—he would speak to you properly. This was his last chance, and he couldn’t afford to ruin it. He would move carefully, calmly, even as every part of him ached to run to you now.

God, he just hoped he wouldn’t be too late.

You, on the other hand, went on your first date with Mingyu carrying nothing but light expectations.

You’d told yourself it was just coffee. Just conversation. Just a way to step outside the ache for an hour or two. But somehow… it had turned into laughter that came too easily. Stories that flowed without effort. Silence that didn’t feel awkward, just comfortable. 

You had gone home with butterflies in your stomach and a constant smile plastered on your face. Which felt like a miracle.

By the time the second date came around, you were still cautious, but excited nonetheless. Mingyu had texted you to dress casual and be ready by a certain time.

Exactly on the dot, his car pulled up in front of your house. You stepped outside, heart lifting before you could stop it.

Punctual, you noted with a small smile.

And then your mind drifted unwillingly to a certain someone... Chan had always been like that too. Early to everything. Flights, dinners, trips. You used to joke that he ran on a different internal clock than the rest of the world. On vacations, you’d turned your brain off completely bringing just vibes because Chan handled everything. Hotels, budgets, reservations. You’d trusted him so deeply it had felt effortless.

The memory tightened your chest.

You let out a quiet sigh before Mingyu could notice, hating how much you still missed him and also hating that even happiness came with shadows.

“Hey,” Mingyu said warmly as he stepped out of the car.

Your thoughts scattered instantly.

He looked… really handsome. Dressed casually just like he’d said, but effortlessly put together. His cologne hit you gently in a warm and comforting way. 

Your smile came easier than you expected.

“Hi.”

The drive was calm, music low, conversation flowed easily. You kept asking him where he was taking you but he was adamant to keep it a secret.

But when he parked, that’s when you realized that the building in front of you wasn’t a café.

It was an aquarium.

Your eyes widened as you turned to him. “Mingyu…?”

He grinned, suddenly a little shy. “Surprise?”

Inside, the place was empty. Like completely empty.

Soft blue light shimmered against the walls, water casting gentle reflections everywhere. Fish glided past massive glass panels, the entire space humming with quiet magic.

You stopped walking.

“You… booked the entire aquarium?” you asked softly, disbelief lacing your voice.

Mingyu scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. I hope that’s okay. I just thought it’d be nicer without crowds.”

Your chest twisted with guilt.

“That must’ve cost a lot,” you said quickly. “Mingyu, you didn’t have to—”

He turned to face you fully, expression serious but kind. “Hey. I wanted to.”

“Still…” you whispered.

“Let’s sit for a second.” Mingyu suggested seeing your guilty expression.

You sat on a nearby bench, the glow of the tanks washing over you.

You took a breath. “I should be honest with you. I’m… not in a place for anything serious right now. I like spending time with you, but I don’t want to lead you on—especially after you did all this.”

He listened without interrupting and with no defensiveness. Then he smiled softly.

“No pressure at all,” he said. “Changbin told me everything. About where you’re at. And honestly? I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

You blinked. “You are?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged lightly. “Ever since Changbin showed me your picture, I kind of fell for your smile. It looked… real. Like someone who feels deeply.”

Heat crept up your cheeks. “That’s embarrassing,” you muttered, laughing under your breath.

He laughed too, eyes warm. “I mean it. I’m not asking you for forever. I’m just asking for now.”

Something in your chest eased. It always seemed to be in Mingyu’s presence. You were at awe at how he did it so effortlessly. 

As you stood and walked beside him, fish swimming lazily around you, you felt the faintest shift. Not quite love, but still something that felt a lot like adoration.

Somehow, without you realizing it, time passed.

Mingyu’s schedule had lightened, and instead of letting the distance grow, he made space for you in the quiet pockets of his days. Between rehearsals and photoshoots, he showed up—sometimes he'd give you a quick call, sometimes just to walk with you for a while. He would text you constantly, sharing updates about his day and asking about yours. He told you many times that spending time with you was his favorite thing in the world.

And with time, without either of you naming it, the dates kept happening.

So by the fifth date, you stopped pretending it was just a distraction.

Not because you were suddenly healed. Not because the past no longer lingered in the quiet spaces of your mind. Some nights still hurt. Some memories still pressed too close. But something about Mingyu made it impossible to lie to yourself anymore, because he had never tried to replace anything. He didn’t rush you. Didn’t pry. Didn’t ask for more than you were ready to give.

He just showed up.

The fifth date was simple, almost intentionally so. No grand gestures this time. Just a late evening walk, warm cups of coffee in your hands, the city humming softly around you. Streetlights reflected off wet pavement, and the air felt calm, like the world had decided to slow down for once.

You talked about small things. Childhood memories, the office gossip and everything like the kind of conversations that don’t try to impress, it was only done to connect.

At some point, you stopped walking.

Mingyu turned to you, eyebrows lifting slightly in silent question. “Everything okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I just… wanted to stand for a second.”

He smiled and leaned against the railing beside you, giving you space without stepping away. That was his thing—you were starting to notice. He never crowded you. Never assumed.

The silence stretched, comfortable but charged.

You became suddenly aware of how close he was. The warmth of his shoulder. The way his fingers curled loosely around his cup. The sound of his breathing, steady and calm.

Your heart started to beat louder.

He looked at you then, in a loving and careful way. 

“Can I ask you something?” he said softly.

You swallowed. “Sure.”

“Is it alright if I kiss you?”

The question caught you off guard.

Not because you didn’t want it, but because no one had asked you like that in a long time. 

You met his eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

Mingyu moved slowly, giving you time right up until the last second to change your mind. When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was tender and almost reverent. Like he was afraid of breaking something fragile. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back, softly at first, then with a little more certainty. It didn’t give you fireworks, but it was warm and grounding. And that felt incredible.

When you pulled apart, neither of you spoke. He rested his forehead gently against yours, close enough that you could feel his smile before you saw it.