#so i just HAD to do it

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - in their hands (j.yh, s.mg, p.sh, c.sn)

a 'this night together' deleted scene: in their hands

summary: chapter twelve of this night together from the boys perspectives, if you haven't read that yet, go here and read that first.

warnings: every warning that applies to chapter twelve, plus a lot of violence. blood, fighting, descriptions of body parts breaking, ideations of killing, and a lot of internal panic and emotion.

notes: this deleted scene is entirely dedicated to the person who commented and said it would be interesting to see chapter twelve from the boys perspective. i've never written from their povs before, so i hope this still flows well and feels good, but i couldn't get that thought out of my mind. i pretty much wrote this in one sitting and only edited it once..... so i hope it doesn't disappoint but i really just wanted to share it with you all.

there are some things that will be covered in chapter thirteen that are getting lightly spoiled here, but for the purpose of consistency i'm going for it.

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader plus alpha!san x alpha! seonghwa

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

word count: 7.8k

Yunho feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up and the air around him shift just enough to make his stomach tight about three seconds before he hears your scream. He doesn’t need to think through if it’s you or someone else, he feels it in his gut like a brick and he’s scrambling to his feet so fast his brain feels sluggishly behind. 

“Something’s wrong,” He manages as he starts to move, but Mingi is already gone like a flash and he follows at  breakneck speed behind his best friend. 

His heart feels heavy in his chest, his mouth is dry, and in the seconds it takes to run from the back office to the far studio rooms, he starts to realize that there is something very, very wrong with his omega. 

Footsteps behind him don’t deter him, his eyes are steady on Mingi’s back. 

“What the fuck was that?” San. 

“y/n,” Seonghwa, but Yunho stops listening the minute he watches Mingi push in the door to the practice room, the sound of it as it swings back on its hinges and collides with the wall stark and sharp. They take in so many little things at once before adrenaline pumps through their brains and throws them all forwards into action.

Mingi catalogs Minseok’s hands, one sunken into the back of your hair and pulling your head to the side, the other pressing you back into the wall at your chest. His knee is pressed between your thighs and the straps of your top are roughly wrenched to the side to bear the length of your throat. 

All Yunho can see is your face and everything in him is suddenly so full of cold fear. You look so blank, your body unmoving against the mirrored wall and palms upturned in submission. For a single second he thinks he’s lost you already, that the strange metallic taste in his mouth is the scent of your blood from Minseok’s successful claim and something strange and panicked bubbles out of his chest. It takes him a moment for his brain to catch up and to realize it's you, the metallic taste isn’t iron at all; it's ripe tannins, over-steeped tea, bitter and sudden and pulsating your fear and panic through the room. 

Mingi moves first. “Get the fuck off her!” His hands close over Minseok’s neck and shoulder, wrenching him backwards with a curt jerk of his arms. 

Your body tips sideways, but your face is still empty and Yunho’s mouth is so full of dry, acerbic chamomile and he can’t catch you, he can’t do anything. Everything goes absolutely silent in his mind. 

His fist connects with Minseok’s cheek first, but it doesn’t feel good enough. Mingi hauls him back up and Yunho throws a cross hard and with sure direction and then he feels the crunch of bone under his knuckles as Minseok’s nose snaps, the blood quick as he shouts and reaches to clutch at his face. 

If there’s one thing alphas typically aren’t good at it’s de-escalation, and whatever primal release of hormones his broken nose unlocked, Minseok shoves Mingi off and comes back up swinging. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Yunho narrowly misses the return shot, dipping to the side, and hands once again close down on Minseok, the combined weight of San and Seonghwa pressing him down towards the floor. 

“You broke my fucking nose!” Minseok scrambles against them. 

“Stay down,” San presses his knee square between Minseok’s shoulder blades and drops his weight. 

“Fuck you!”

Yunho drops fast, locking his hand over the back of Minseok’s neck to press his face into the wood floor and help hold him down. 

Mingi stumbles forwards after being pushed off balance, but then his eyes flick up past the scuffle and he sees you. You’re lying flat on your back on the practice room floor, eyes vacant and unfocused on the white ceiling, your leg bent in a strange position, one that can’t be comfortable but still you don’t move. 

He knows it all at once. 

“Oh, God,” His stomach turns as he ignores the writhing alpha on the floor and the others doing their best to pin him down so he can skid to your side and drop to his knees. 

Yunho can’t see you from his vantage point, he’s holding Minseok and facing the opposite direction and that wall of the practice room doesn’t have any mirrors to guide him, “Mingi, what? What’s going on?” 

“Baby,” Mingi’s so quiet as he shifts forwards, but Yunho hears it. 

“Is she alright?” Yunho can’t wait, he twists around and loses his steady grip on Minseok, but he has to know, “Mingi! Seriously, is she,” 

Mingi’s hands cup your cheeks, and he studies your empty expression for a moment but he doesn’t need to, “Jesus,” he manages, “he put her in subspace,” 

“He did what?” Seonghwa’s voice is sharp. 

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Mingi’s something else entirely when he’s angry, really and truly angry, and he has Minseok right where he wants him in a second. He cuts through the other alphas in a flash, rolling Minseok onto his back and straddling the smaller man’s hips to pin him in place. His fist has never felt as good as this moment, cracking across this coward’s teeth and splitting his skin again, and again, and again. 

The sound of your whimper only makes it feel better. 

Yunho suddenly and with perfect clarity knows what to do. In this moment you need him, even if you’re not in the presence of mind to ask, he knows. He looks you over fast as he slides close to you, relief flooding him when he sees the unbroken skin of your neck. He’ll process the redness later, the wet glisten of saliva over your gland, but his first conscious thought is that he’s strangely grateful for Minseok’s sadistic approach to claiming you against your will. He thought he had time to savor you, and those seconds of his carelessness saved your life. 

Despite your blank eyes, tears slip from the corners and snake down into your sweat-damp hair, and Yunho watches the quiver of your lip, the way your whole body seems to tremble right from its very center despite how still you really are. He drops his head to the side and calls back to the others, “Calm down or get out of here, do you understand me? You’re scaring her,” 

“Mingi,” San is wrapped around his friend’s back, trying to pull his arms into his chest, “Mingi, stop! Mingi, you’ll kill him, man, stop!” 

Minseok groans, spitting blood onto the practice room floor with choke, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck,” 

“He,” Mingi’s voice is tight, “you saw what he did,” 

Minseok whines again, “Rut, it’s my rut,” 

Mingi’s nose crinkles at that and he has half a mind to keep swinging but San’s arms tighten, banded around him now and he lets him keep him still. 

“I know,” San soothes, ignoring Minseok and staying focused on his friend, “but she’s safe now,” 

“I,” Mingi breathes, but a voice breaks through the fray. 

“I called the police!” Everyone’s heads snaps up at the sound of Dahan in the doorway, her eyes shining and terrified, “they’re on their way…. I… I’ll get an ambulance too,” 

“Good,” San nods, “go wait for them out front, Dahan, tell them to hurry,” 

Her sneakers squeak on the hardwood as she darts away, her cellphone pressed against her ear. 

“We got him,” Seonghwa interjects, locking his hands down on one of Minseok’s arms, “San, help me get him to the office,” 

Everyone hears the soft, panicked noise that bubbles from the back of your throat. 

“G-go,” Mingi pushes himself back off Minseok’s hips and San finally releases his arms, “get him out of here,” 

San yanks Minseok up off the floor and winds an arm under him to hold him steady, Seonghwa on the opposite side so they can drag him up the hall to the back office. 

“Mingi,” Seonghwa manages, “please take care of her,” 

He nods once, annoyance bristling under his skin. Of course he will, you're his omega and no one, no one will ever care for you like him and Yunho. Even if you never want to talk to him again, even if he has to watch you go and let you live your life some other way with some other alpha, somehow he knows that truth down to his very soul. 

As Mingi returns to your side, Seonghwa allows his eyes to wander. He’d been trying to look anywhere else but you since he made it into the room, too afraid that he’d see the evidence of a violent claim on one of his best friends, too afraid he’d lost you. He’s never put an omega into subspace before, not even when they’ve wanted to be there, and now he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see anything but your empty eyes when he thinks of it. 

The last thought he has as he rounds the corner is that the man in his arms used to be his teammate, but now he thinks he’s as good as dead. 

Minseok groans between him and San and he can’t help but tighten his grip on the man just to make it hurt a little bit more. 

He groans again, but this time San’s the one who stops dead, “Stop whining,” his voice is cutting, “you don’t get to complain after what you’ve done,” 

A little huff of air passes through Minseok’s lips, “Some alphas you are,” 

“Excuse me?” San’s fingers tighten on Minseok’s arm where he still holds him upright. 

“There’s nothing wrong with taking what’s on offer,” Minseok says it like it’s obvious, “isn’t that right, Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa’s stomach goes icy and he’s not really the type to get into a physical fight, but this? This is something altogether different. He has him back up against the wall of the hallway with a sharp knee to his gut, and then his mind goes absolutely blank. He’s never felt rage like this, true and deep compelling retribution singing through his blood and he just can’t help himself. 

“She’s a person,” Seonghwa lands a swift kick to the man’s ribs as he lets him drop to the floor, “and you’re a fucking waste of an alpha,” 

“Hwa,” San’s voice is low and calm, but he ignores it. 

Another kick, another. He feels ribs give way to make space for his rage, “Stand up if you’re such a big man,” 

Minseok groans again. 

“You’re alpha enough to terrify an omega,” Seonghwa spits, “come on, get up, try and terrify me,” 

He’s coughing now, fingers gripping the cold hard floor beneath him, “P-please,” 

“What was that?” Seonghwa lands a stiff punch to his gut. 

Minseok curls in on himself with a cry, “Please, you know what, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I said,” 

“I’d keep your mouth shut,” San again, but Seonghwa can’t conceive of where he is or what he’s doing, his eyes are so singularly focused on this man. 

“It was,” Minseok coughs, blood across his lips, “the rut, I just lost it, you know how the haze is,” 

“I don’t know a thing about how you are,” Seonghwa drops another punch. 

“No, no!” Minseok shrieks at the sensation of another rib popping. 

“Hwa,” 

Minseok’s voice is getting threadier, “y/n, she,” 

Seonghwa’s hand redirects, a sharp strike across his face as he descends on the man in earnest, “Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” 

He loses count of the number of punches it takes for Minseok’s jaw to pop and his eyes to roll back, and San knows he should have stopped it all sooner, but there’s a part of him that wanted to watch this man suffer too. 

Seonghwa is shaking, blood spattered across his gray sweatpants, smears darting up the sleeves of his white shirt. The soft skin of his knuckles is split open and angry, and San thinks if it was possible to love someone’s hands more, he does. San curls his body around Seonghwa from behind, but unlike Mingi, Seonghwa allows his arms to be pulled in by his sometimes lover. 

“Jagi,” San whispers low in his ear so only he can hear, “come back,” 

Minseok is still, his eyes closed, “Sannie,” Seonghwa’s voice cracks, “w-what did I do? Is he dead?” 

“No,” San squeezes him, “he’s just knocked out. An ambulance is coming, you did nothing wrong.”

“What did I do?” Seonghwa asks again, his voice small, and San knows he has to take care of things now. 

San pulls Seonghwa up to stand, turning him physically away from the bloodied man on the floor, “Jagi, come away with me, alright?” 

“What did I do?” 

“You’re in shock,” San says softly, “but I’m here,” 

“What did I do?” He repeats, empty as San steers him towards the back office. He’s never been in a fight, he’s never hurt someone like that in his life. He’s not prepared for the way that the feeling of a body under his angry hands replays on a loop in his mind, he didn’t know he was capable of things like that. 

“Shh,” San bids him as he gets him directed into a seat, “I’ll be right back, baby, but I need to take care of something first.” 

Seonghwa is vaguely aware of a shout from the far practice room, and down the length of the hall he finds Minseok’s body again with his eyes. 

San steps cleanly into his eyeline to break his gaze, “Stay right here, just breathe.” 

He manages to nod, and then San is gone and the door is shut. He wants to cry. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tone is not something Mingi has ever enjoyed using. He’s tried it, of course, every alpha has even when they say they haven’t. It’s natural, it’s a part of growing up, he just always hated the way tone seemed to change every boy around him. Mingi remembers the first time he ever tried it, in the mirror in the emptiness of his childhood home. His voice broke a little later than the other boys around him, but when it did it dropped fast and deep in the smack center of his chest. 

He remembers his middle school teacher’s eyebrows drawing high when he said hello to her the next day. He remembers how she smiled and the way she said - Maybe you’ll make a good alpha afterall. 

He started to speak less and less after that. He practiced at home in the mirror just to understand the shape of his voice like that, but unlike some of the other boys who couldn’t help but torment with their tone, he knew what it could do. Yunho was the first boy he ever met that didn’t need to use it to command respect on the school yard, and when Yunho swung an arm around Mingi’s shoulders and said he was with him, he got respect too. No one asked why he was so quiet after Yunho, they finally just let him be. 

Mingi hasn’t used tone since he was maybe sixteen, joking around with Yunho to make each other laugh trying to stay up late on a summer’s night. But an alpha never forgets how to do it, and Mingi just has to let it come. 

He’s crouched over your prone body now, his hands holding your face steady as he tries to get your eyes to focus on his. Yunho is practically a knot of panic next to him, but he can’t focus on him when he knows he has to focus on you to pull you out from under. He doesn’t know what Minseok said to you to put you this deep into headspace, but he knows he should have killed him for it. 

He watches tears track silently down your temples and over his shaking fingers as Yunho begs him, “Why isn’t this working?” 

“I’m not sure,” He answers quietly, but he knows exactly why, he just doesn’t for the life of him want to do it, so he tries one more time with his normal voice, “y/n. Omega. Listen to me now,” 

People respond to their designations, it’s natural, and in a state of submission like this the possibility that you’d be able to latch onto the word ‘omega’ alone is certainly possible. The noise you make is thready and tight, but at least Mingi knows he has your ear now.

  “Come up now,” He repeats, “right now. Listen to me, omega,” 

He might be able to get you up without using tone, but he doesn’t know for sure. You don’t make a single sound in response to his last plea, and suddenly he can’t stop it, he can’t lose this one chance of your conscious mind floating close enough to the surface. 

He takes a low inhale, letting the otherworldly calm fill his chest, the familiar feeling of his alpha tone building in his lower throat and then he says it, “Don’t disobey your alpha.” 

Your eyes finally flick to his, pupils dilating as you focus on Mingi’s face. 

Yunho draws in a sharp breath. 

Mingi remains passive, he doesn’t let himself feel the joy yet of knowing you’re okay, he has to get you there first. He needs you awake, talking, crying, screaming, anything to tell him that you’re here. He holds your eyes steady, “When you’re given a directive, you follow it.” He hates this part, the way an alpha’s bark can make an omega snap to attention, but he almost has you back. Shifting closer he levels his voice more and gives you a clear and present order, “Come. Up.” 

Mingi watches your face break from cold blankness, grief and panic etched into the lines on your forehead and by your eyes, your hands reflexively jerking up to defend yourself like it was your last thought before you lost the ability. 

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, and he watches you start to curl in on yourself. 

He’s not thinking anymore really, he just can’t let you hide away from them, and he pulls your body up into his shaking arms, “You’re here? You’re with us?” 

His name on your lips. 

Your body is vibrating with panicked sobs, and he feels you claw against him like you want to crawl into his chest, pushing your body against his with desperate heaving breaths. For a moment he’s so worried that his own use of alpha tone might have hurt you more than helped you and his mind spins. 

Yunho drops a heavy hand on Mingi’s thigh, a steadying comfort bringing him straight back to center. 

Mingi drops his face to your hair and strokes your back, “Shh,” his body rocks naturally to soothe you, “we’ve got you, we’re right here, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” 

“She’s bleeding,” The edge in Yunho’s voice scares him, and Mingi snaps to attention. 

His hands search over your body, looking for the source of pain, trying to find the problem that he can fix so you’ll just stay whole and here and with him. 

“Here,” Yunho says, stopping Mingi’s frantic movements, “it’s not too bad.” 

It’s not, rationally he knows that by the small amount of blood smeared across Yunho’s fingers, but Mingi’s never seen you bleed before and his stomach knots up tightly in rage. 

Mingi holds you while Yunho steps in, talking you through the moment as you come back to your senses. He can barely breathe at the way your body shakes in his arms, your nails digging into his thigh where you grip him unconsciously, and he hears your fast breath and the quick step flutter of your heart, but he can’t move. His hands keep making fists, he wants so badly to stalk down the halls and find this man. Nothing he did was good enough, not now that he’s hearing you cry. You were never supposed to be afraid like this, not ever. 

He comes back into his body when you pitch the contents of your stomach into the little plastic trash can that Yunho pushes into your hands, the sound of your tight wretch shocking enough to pull him back down. 

He gathers your hair back, “Okay,” he tries to soothe you, “you’re okay,” 

“He touched me,” You manage, and Mingi’s mind flashes with static images. His hand in your hair, on your chest, lips, tongue, teeth. 

Mingi and Yunho both hold you steady while you heave again, “The things he said,” 

“Shh,” Yunho tries now, “you’re safe, none of that is true.” 

“He talked to me like a dog, and I couldn’t move, he told me not to move and I just let him,”

Mingi finds his voice too quickly, “No.” 

The way you twitch under his hands makes him sick and he softens his voice as best he can despite the curl of anger in his belly, “He used alpha tone on you, he wanted you to stop fighting and he said it in tone until you couldn’t hear anything else.” 

Yunho’s hand lays over his on your back. 

“You didn’t let him do anything,” He needs you to understand. 

“I’ve never,” You heave again, nothing in your body this time. 

Mingi’s ears are ringing, but Yunho’s soothing you now like he’s so good at doing and you’re pushing back the plastic bin, but then you slide out of his arms and onto the wood floor and he doesn’t know if he should reach for you or not. 

“I’ve never been in subspace,” He hears you say. 

“You’re not there now,” 

“I don’t remember, it’s so muddled, I can’t remember,” 

Mingi watches you frantically check your body and he wishes he had had the foresight to fix your shirt from the way that it was pulled to the side over the cap of your shoulder because maybe you wouldn’t have had to remember that and he could have saved you this one small thing.

  Yunho dips lower in front of you to meet your eyes when he says, “What can’t you remember?” 

Mingi watches you reach up your hand, desperate to know. He remembers suddenly the moment in his bed all those months ago when you mistakenly thought in the haze of heat Yunho might have claimed you. Rage and sick guilt swirl in his gut and then he hears you ask it, soft and terrified, “Did he… did we?” 

“No,” Yunho brings you right out of that terror spiral and back to the moment, “absolutely not.” 

Mingi hates the smell of your fear and he’s learning that he hates the way you look when you’re scared. He never wants to see you like this again for as long as he lives. 

“All I can smell his him,” 

He has to get out of this room. 

“I can’t even breathe,” 

Mingi knows you need someone calm right now, someone centered and capable, but if he has to feel you shaking on his lap again he might just snap. His eyes flick to Yunho, “Take her,” 

There’s a question in his friend’s eyes but Yunho’s careful not to say it out loud. 

“I’m getting water,” Mingi says, and then he’s moving. 

In the hall his breath comes back in heaving gulps and he nearly slips in a little pool of blood on his frantic way to the locker room. 

San is up the hall, in front of the closed back office door with his cell phone tucked tightly against his ear but at the sight of Mingi he drops it immediately and presses it to his chest, “How is she?” 

“Awake,” Mingi responds, “alert,”

“Herself?” San asks. 

Mingi nods, “Where is he?” 

He’s not sure it’s actually best for him to know that information at this time, but he had to ask anyway. San nods his head to the right towards a smaller studio space, “He’s unconscious, don’t even think about it.” 

“I’m… I’m not, I,” Mingi feels dizzy, he needs to sit before gravity makes him. 

“I have to,” San shakes the phone, putting it back to his ear, “she’s okay, I’m telling you, she’s okay.” 

Mingi can’t be here, he can’t be anywhere. He pushes himself to the connecting hallway that leads to the locker room. 

“Wooyoungie,” He hears San say from behind him, “listen to me, she’s okay, I promise you.” 

Mingi cannot understand how this day went from normal, hopeful about Saturday, to catastrophically terrible in every way imaginable. 

In the locker room he collapses on one of the wooden benches, his mind pulsing with questions. He needs to get back to you, but he can’t let you see him like this, he knows he’d scare you after everything you’ve just been through. He wonders if this is a panic attack. 

The thought that presses into him sideways and buries deep in his brain is sickening. He left you alone with that man for three months. He was traveling, and laughing, and dancing, and eating stupid junk food thinking his biggest problem was whether or not you might be into Seonghwa. He was so selfish. He blanches when the next thought occurs to him. Have you been afraid of Seo Minseok this whole time, afraid in ways you felt you couldn’t tell them? 

Mingi rips open his locker and pulls out anything he can find to muffle his bubbling voice, a sweatshirt and a towel stuffed tightly against his mouth to capture his angry scream. He has to get this out of his body, and he has to get back to you, but he’s so, so angry in a way that feels uncontrollable. 

His body collides with the locker door, denting the middle inwards enough that it no longer properly latches shut, but he doesn’t care. The pain spiking up the side of his arm is good, it’s real, and it pumps his brain full of all the chemicals he needs to focus. 

He puts any thought of going across the hall into the practice room where Minseok lays unconscious. He ignores the little voice that says he would be justified in finishing him off. He forces himself to think about your face, your smile when he saw you at the party for the first time in months. 

He holds that image while he moves quickly, grabbing a few water bottles and turning right down the hallway towards you and away from every impulse flicking through his body.  He stops short at the door when he hears Yunho’s voice, “I’d put him on the floor faster than you could blink. Mingi and I both would.” 

He breathes through the spike of anger as he hears your soft voice in response. He hates that you’re still afraid, even with him here, but he knows he has to show you for you to believe it. 

“You are completely safe,” Yunho says, and at this moment Mingi is so grateful for Yunho’s steadfast calm. 

He takes one more deep, deep breath, and pushes through the doorway with as much softness as he can muster. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

San ignores his phone. He’s told Wooyoung everything he can about what happened and that you’re safe and now he has other problems to deal with. 

As Mingi disappears into the locker rooms, Dahan races back through the hallway, her eyes darting down at the puddle of blood, “Oh, god,” 

“It’s his,” San assuages her fears immediately, “are they on the way?” 

“Yes, I told them to hurry,” She nods, “does he need an ambulance too?” 

“The ambulance is for him,” San says, clearing his throat, “can you wait for them and show them where to come? I need to,” he jerks his head towards the back office. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” 

“And Dahan,” He remembers himself, “don’t go into studio two, okay?” 

Her eyes flick to the door, “Is he in there?” 

San nods, “He’s hurt, but still, he’s not safe to be around, okay?” 

Dahan might be a beta, but he’s not taking any risks where Minseok is concerned, not after he heard the way he talked so casually about what he did to you. She nods, stepping backwards down the hall once more. 

With everything taken care of, he can finally focus. 

San pulls open the door to the back office and Seonghwa jumps, his eyes going from unfocused to focused in a second. “It’s only me,” San says softly, “I’m here now,” 

“San,” Seonghwa’s eyes well up with tears, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” 

San shakes his head, dropping to crouch in front of him, and he gently lays his hands on Seonghwa’s knees, “There’s nothing wrong with you at all,” 

“I should be helping,” Seonghwa swallows tightly. 

San shakes his head again, “Everything’s handled,” he says, brushing his hand over Seonghwa’s long black hair, “there’s nothing to do right now.” 

“y/n?” Seonghwa murmurs. 

“She’s awake,” San repeats Mingi’s words from a few moments ago, “alert, and she’s herself,” 

“Thank god,” Seonghwa’s breath hitches, “and she’s alright? She’s not alone?” 

“They’re with her,” San soothes him, cupping his cheek, “she’s right where she needs to be,” 

“Good,” Seonghwa sinks back into his seat. 

San lets his hand drop back to Seonghwa’s thigh, his phone once again buzzing incessantly in his pocket. He’s sure Wooyoung is frantic, but right now he needs to focus here on the man in front of him. Wooyoung will have to wait. 

“Who’s calling?” Seonghwa nods towards San’s pocket. 

“Woo,” 

“You told him?” Seonghwa surmises. 

“I thought she might need him,” San confesses softly, “I don’t know what an omega would want at a time like this… I wouldn’t know what to do,” 

“You’re doing it now,” Seonghwa corrects, “you’re doing better than me,” 

San squeezes Seonghwa’s knee, giving him the smallest shake of his head, he never was one to accept that kind of self deprecating talk and he’s not about to start now. 

“I should,” Seonghwa starts to shift away from San and put space between them, but then he actually looks down at himself and his chest starts to pound, “oh, Jesus,” 

He hadn’t properly looked, he hadn’t really taken it in until this moment. He’s never seen so much blood before, and his hands are shaking as he turns them over to see his stained palms. 

“Shh,” San covers Seonghwa’s trembling hands with his own, “I’ve got you,” 

“H-he’s alive, right?” Seonghwa can’t think of anything except the way Minseok’s jaw felt coming loose under his fist, “Sannie, did I kill him?” 

“No, no,” San dips closer, pressing a warm kiss to Seonghwa’s forehead, “he’s fine, it looks worse than it is. You didn’t do that, you’d never do that, I know you,” 

Tears pool in Seonghwa’s eyes, tracking down his cheeks quickly as he drops his head against San’s clean knuckles, “I thought about it,” his voice is tight with tears, “what does that make me?” 

“Hey,” San moves in, pressing quick kisses along Seonghwa’s temple, any part of him that he can reach, “no, it makes you a person, alright? He did something awful to someone we love.” San squeezes his hands tight, “He hurt her, he could have claimed her, we all know what that means, okay? You were protecting her, you did nothing wrong,” 

Seonghwa stills, letting his words sink in. He thinks about what an unwanted claim would have done to you, who you would have become. 

“It wasn’t his rut either,” San leans his head against Seonghwa’s, his thumb caressing the back of his hand, “you know that’s just what these alphas say when they try to do what he did,” 

“I don’t understand why he would try it here,” Seonghwa lifts up, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“He thought we were all gone,” San says quietly, “I’m sure he thought y/n and maybe Dahan were the only ones working late. Yunho and Mingi had the back office door closed, I was in the gym, and you said you were leaving early. It was quiet,” 

“He planned it, then,” Seonghwa’s stomach rolls. 

“I think so,” San nods, “we just need the police to believe that.” 

“They’re coming?” Seonghwa murmurs. 

“Mhm,” San smiles, close lipped and then sighs, “jagi, I need you to do something for me,” 

Seonghwa studies his face, he hasn’t heard San call him that outside of bed in so long, “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

San sighs, eyes flicking away, “You know why,” 

The feeling sits between them for a moment, and then Seonghwa nods, “What do you need me to do?” 

“We need to get you out of these clothes,” San cups his cheek again, “and you need to wash your hands,” 

“San,” Seonghwa’s jaw tightens, realizing what San is pushing him to do, “I’m not lying to the police,” 

“It’s not lying,” San presses, “you’re just changing after work,” 

“If I get in trouble for what I did, I’m not going to get caught lying on top of that,” Seonghwa murmurs, “I know what you’re trying to do, but think it through.” 

San’s jaw tenses and relaxes and then he nods, “Alright, but I’m cleaning your cuts, and you’re not going to argue about that.” 

Seonghwa smiles softly and nods, “Okay,” 

San ignores the phone in his pocket again and finds the first aid kit in the cabinets, pulling out a pack of alcohol wipes and gauze. He doubles back for a water bottle and some paper towels, and then he pulls a chair close to Seonghwa to sit and take his hands back in his. 

Seonghwa is quiet while San works. He uses the water and the paper towel to effectively wash the blood away from his palms and the alcohol wipes to clean the broken skin of his knuckles. He works on him quickly and quietly, and he fights the urge to kiss his broken skin when he’s finished, he’s gotten away with too much today already. 

He holds Seonghwa’s hands in his, so much softer and more delicate than his. He thinks that after today he’ll have to take care to make sure he never has to use them in violence again. San thinks the next time he will do better, if Seonghwa ever has to kill, San will be the one to kill for him. 

San smooths his thumbs over the backs of Seonghwa’s hands, and this time he does give into temptation. Dipping forward he presses a kiss to each of his palms. 

“San,” Seonghwa’s voice is soft, “we’re alright,” 

“I know,” He whispers into the soft skin of the hands he misses so deeply, hands he aches for. If anyone ever touched him the way that Minseok touched you, he can’t even conceive of what he wouldn’t do. 

His phone rings again, and this time he answers it. 

“Now you answer?” Wooyoung’s voice is taut, “I’m downstairs,” 

“I had things to take care of,” San sighs, standing and giving Seonghwa’s hand one final squeeze. 

“I’m coming up,” Wooyoung ignores his excuse, “he better be in a fucking body bag when I get there,” 

The line goes dead, and San steps into the hall. He takes quick stock. Minseok is still unconscious in studio two, he can hear the tone of your voice from down the hall mixed with Yunho and Mingi’s. The slick patch of blood on the tile is gone, and San wonders if Dahan had the same idea he did about cleaning up before the police arrive. 

The door to the access stairs by the elevator swings open, Wooyoung looking wild and full of panicked rage, and San dives back into the chaos. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

For the first time in his life, Yunho wishes he wasn’t the designated driver for everything. He wishes Mingi had a license. He wishes that after the most uncomfortable and awful hospital trip of his life he could have tossed Mingi the keys and told him to drive and climbed in the backseat with you. Instead he’s stuck in the driver’s seat again, trying to focus on the road but finding himself glancing up every few seconds to check his rear view mirror just so he can see you asleep with your head in Mingi’s lap. 

“Green light,” Mingi murmurs with a nod of his head, and Yunho breaks his eyes away from the mirror to watch the road again and press the gas. 

“Sorry,” He manages. 

“I get it,” Mingi replies, his fingers slowly brushing along your temple, “I can’t believe she’s here either.” 

“Is she sleeping?” Yunho checks. 

“Mhm,” Mingi nods, “she’s out,” 

Yunho breathes a sigh of relief, he hated having to wake you up with Mingi every few minutes on the way to the hospital when they weren’t sure if you had a concussion or not, he’s just happy you can actually get some rest if you need it. 

“Yunho,” Mingi says quietly, a question in the lilt of his voice, “what did the police want to ask you?” 

“Um,” His eyes flick to the mirror and then back to the road, “they wanted to talk to the owner, but Jaemin obviously wasn’t there,” 

“Right,” Mingi nods. 

“I don’t know,” Yunho admits, “San gave them my name and said I could give a statement about what happened,” 

“Which was?” Mingi asks. 

Yunho watches your face for a moment, but it’s clear you’re still deep asleep and he shrugs, “The truth, that we heard a scream and that when we went into the room we saw him attempting to hurt her. It was clear he was trying to force a claim and that she was in subspace, and that Minseok fought us while we tried to subdue him.” 

“Do you think they believe that?” Mingi murmurs. 

“They have to,” Yunho won’t let that thought enter his mind, he knows what Mingi’s implying, they both heard the way your conversation with the police went at the hospital, but he can’t entertain the thought that the police would side with anyone but you. 

“Do they?” 

“Not tonight,” Yunho shakes his head, “not in front of her, she’s been through enough.” 

Mingi stays quiet, and Yunho drives on. 

When they pull into the alleyway that leads to their apartment, Yunho watches you start to stir. It’s like you have a sixth sense that the energy in the car is changing, and you make soft, sleepy noises as you come out of it. 

Mingi runs a hand soothingly up and down your back, “We’re home, okay? You’re with us,” 

Yunho watches the way you don’t respond. Your eyes look vacant again, unfocused and distant and when he pulls the car to a stop he watches the way you don’t wait to just step out yourself and start the familiar walk up to their front door. 

He exchanges a fast look with Mingi, and they follow you at a little distance to keep the pressure off until the door’s unlocked and you’re stepping over the threshold. Everything about this is wrong. Not you back in their home, that’s never felt so right to Yunho in his life, but you look glassy and scared and he wants nothing more than to take it away. 

“Hey,” He tries, waving a hand across your field of vision, “are you alright?” 

Your eyes flick away from his, a pregnant pause between you before you look back up, “I’m fine, sorry, it’s just been awhile.” 

He feels heat flood his cheeks, his ears warm. Of course you’re not alright, and he feels stupid and small at even asking the question. He feels foolish about every little thing until you walk down the hall and shut yourself away in the bathroom. 

“I don’t know what the fuck to do,” Mingi says suddenly, running a hand through his hair before moving towards the couch, “I still want to break something.” 

“I know,” Yunho nods, sitting next to him on the sofa, his knee bouncing nervously. 

Mingi shoots him a glance, his eyes flicking down to his knee, and Yunho freezes. They settle into the quiet of their apartment, and they listen. Yunho expects to hear you cry, something more than just the steady spray of the shower, but he doesn’t and that scares him more than anything. 

“Should we call the others?” Mingi clears his throat after a while, “Woo or,” 

“Seonghwa?” Yunho finishes his thought for him and then swallows tightly, “No, I, I wouldn’t know what to say.” 

“Me either,” Mingi nods. 

“She wants to be here,” Yunho remembers the way you clung to his shoulders at the studio, begging for home, and maybe tomorrow you’ll regret that decision but he’s done trying to think for you. 

“I know,” 

“Let’s just let her be here then,” Yunho murmurs. 

Yunho knows that Mingi doesn’t want to lose you just as much as he doesn’t. They agreed one night after just enough alcohol on tour how they felt, everything finally out in the open between them. They had never stopped and imagined a pack together, but they both know it feels right. 

“We’re her friends,” Mingi reasons quietly. 

“Friends,” Yunho nods, “and the fact that we’re both stupidly in love with her can wait,” 

“Yep,” Mingi sighs, “I think we’ve gotten pretty good at that,” 

Yunho huffs, a short breath of laughter through his nose and nods, “Yeah,” 

The sound of the shower turning off draws both their gazes up and down the hall, and then Mingi stands, “I’m going to make up my room in case she wants it,” 

Yunho watches him go. He listens to the stillness of the apartment around him. 

Mingi comes back and you’re still in the bathroom. They make themselves scarce. They listen as you come out of the bathroom and go straight into Mingi’s bedroom. The door shuts tight. Yunho listens but he doesn’t hear the turn of the lock. The bed creaks, sheets rustle, and then all is quiet. 

“What do we do now?” Mingi asks quietly. 

Yunho’s eyes flick over the closed door down the hall, “We wait.” 

Being pulled from sleep at four in the morning is never a good thing, but Yunho would put seeing you struggle through a night terror and a flash back at the absolute top of his most awful moments list. The way it took so much to get you to snap out of it and come back to them, the pile of Mingi’s bedding in the corner, the way your muscles stayed locked tight for minutes even with their arms around you. 

Holding you now with Mingi he keeps thinking of the purple bruises that litter your skin from where you rubbed your glands raw. He’s a swirling mix of emotion, but the worst part of it is that there’s nothing left to do. He can’t channel it anywhere, there’s no threat except the one in your mind now, and he doesn’t know how to make that kind of threat recede. 

He remembers the way you shrank back into his chest at the hospital at the glimpse of Minseok’s name on the hospital room door as you passed through to the exit. All he could do was wrap an arm around your body and try to steer you away, and he doesn’t know if that was even close to good enough. 

His mind turns it all over as light starts to spread in the sky outside, and he feels the way you’re shifting in the bed getting closer and closer to sleep. He hopes you can all get a few more hours before the reality of whatever tomorrow is going to bring. Your lips move against Yunho’s chest and he doesn’t risk shifting a muscle so he can hear your quiet words in the dark. It’s faint, but he hears it when you whisper, “Don’t let me go,” 

Yunho’s throat constricts, his eyes flooding with tears. He presses his eyes shut tight, trying to keep his breathing even and low so you don’t know he’s still awake. The weight of the night sinks into him, pushing against his chest and there are so many things he wants to say to you heavy on his tongue. 

It doesn’t take long for your breathing to level out and your body to unspool and relax, they both feel it when you do, and Yunho takes a shaky wet breath now that he knows he can. 

When he opens his eyes again it’s straight into Mingi’s and for some reason his friend’s unwavering gaze makes the tears come faster. 

Mingi waits, and Yunho looks away in discomfort at the raw moment of exposure. 

Quietly, and careful not to wake the woman in his arms, Mingi shifts closer to you and Yunho, his arm stretching across you both and settling on Yunho’s side. 

“It’s okay,” Mingi murmurs quietly. 

“How is this okay?” Yunho manages, getting his moment of overflowing emotion under control. 

“She’s here,” Mingi says simply, “even if it’s just tonight,” 

Yunho’s arms tighten around your sleeping form and he nods, “She’s here,” 

Mingi presses a kiss to your hair and squeezes Yunho’s side just once, “Sleep,” 

“What if she has another nightmare?” Yunho murmurs. 

“I’ve got her,” Mingi assures quietly, “you sleep,” 

You shift between them, winding your way deeper into Yunho’s embrace, and he passes a hand up and down your back until you sigh heavily against his skin. If this is all he has, he’s going to take it. He nods to Mingi, and despite the growing light leaking in through the curtains outside, sleep pulls him under. 

Mingi stays awake for as long as he can stand watching over you both, but held in their arms you barely stir. There are no nightmares, no subspace to hold you under. With the birds starting to sing, Mingi falls asleep. 

He wakes to the sound of a fist on their front door and the sinking feeling that last night might have really been their last with you. He hopes to god he’s wrong. He so badly wants to be wrong. 

[minzbins]

INSEONG Quick Behind Snaps 📸 BURN ver.

[mxzyuu]

You don't look like you want to go back

since it's his birthday today, I thought I'd drop this little thing right here

[goddessofwisdom18]

80s Sophie and Howl in 80s Cardiff <3

[puppyeared]

filipina miku!! my mom helped me with her outfit ^_^

[atalana]

the curse of adhd:

i will remember with absolute clarity, when the thought strikes me that i have a text to send someone, that this is the fourth time in three days i've attempted to send this specific text

i will forget, in the time it takes me to pick up my phone, that i picked it up intending to send a text

[werewolf-transgenderism]

keep seeing undergrads on social media saying “oh if a prof has a strict no-AI academic integrity policy that’s a red flag for me because that means they don’t know how to design assignments” like sorry girl but that just sounds like you’ve got a case of sour grapes about not being allowed to cheat with the plagiarism machine that doesn’t know how to evaluate sources and kills the environment! I have a strict no-AI policy because if you use AI to write your essays for a writing course it’s literally plagiarism because you didn’t write it and you’re not learning any of the things the course teaches if you just plug a prompt into the plagiarism generator that kills the environment, hope this helps!

[alexandriad]

jumping on the bandwagon with an ancient greek miku

[moncuries]

guess what i watched on new years (a redraw kind of)

[verflares]

just how long is forever? // not long enough, with you

pssst. check this out on inprnt :]

[artkaninchenbau]

A h-heartfelt reunion..?

Bonus

[qiinamii]

we'll do fine.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Pomni and Gummigoo reunite in TADC!

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[mebssann]

Sir Pentious has my whole heart and he deserves nothing but good things for the rest of his (2nd) afterlife