#YeoSang | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeosanitycheck · 11 hours ago

Text

wet by default | yeosang

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ "you're dripping all over" ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

⭑.ᐟpairing: bf!yeosang x fem!reader

you and yeo have been dating for a couple years now, it was time he got to show you something new...

⭑.ᐟwarnings: mdni! this is so smutty with lil plot. spit play, ice play, voyeurism, softdom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, praise kink, oral, aftercare. (probably forgetting some)

⭑.ᐟwc: 4.8k

⭑.ᐟ a/n: im a yeo girl (obv) and it was honestly time i wrote a fic just featuring him, soooo i went all out. kk bye, ty for reading <3

It starts with a look.

That’s all it takes.

You’re half-drunk and warm, slouched lazily on the couch with a wine glass dangling from your fingers, completely relaxed. The room is dim, the only light coming from the glow of the city skyline through the wide windows.

You’re still in your dress from the company dinner, legs tucked beneath you, hair slightly mussed from where Yeosang kept brushing his fingers through it throughout the evening.

You glance at him across the room—slouched in the armchair, legs lazily spread, one hand loosely gripping his drink, the other resting against his thigh. His black shirt is unbuttoned slightly at the top, revealing a sliver of smooth, golden skin, and the way the fabric clings to his frame makes your stomach flip.

You catch his eyes—deep, warm brown—and instantly, you know.

The lazy, indulgent way he looks at you sends heat coiling low in your stomach. It’s subtle—the slight tilt of his head, the way his lips curl into the faintest smirk, and the way his eyes slowly trail over your legs.

You arch a brow, swirling the wine in your glass slowly, eyes daring and playful.

“What?” you ask with a teasing smirk, feigning innocence.

Yeosang’s eyes glimmer softly, but he doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he takes a slow sip of his drink, letting the silence stretch out.

The corner of his mouth quirks slightly, but his eyes remain dark and unwavering.

“Nothing,” he finally drawls, voice soft and syrupy. “Just watching you.”

You feel your cheeks flush, but you tilt your chin slightly, giving him a mockingly coy look.

“Should I be flattered or concerned?”

Yeosang’s lips twitch slightly, and he sets his glass down slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

“Flattered,” he murmurs softly, the faintest trace of amusement in his tone. “Definitely flattered.”

You cock your head slightly, legs stretching out just enough to catch his attention, watching his eyes flick down to the exposed skin of your thighs.

You smirk softly, leaning back lazily.

“Hmm.” You hum, trailing your fingers along the rim of your glass, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You always stare at me like that, or is tonight special?”

His eyes darken slightly, but his lips curl into a soft, almost sweet smile—the kind that makes your chest tighten.

“Every time I look at you feels special,” voice almost breathy, and the sincerity in his tone makes your stomach flutter.

You pretend to scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“God, you’re such a sap,” you tease, but you’re smiling despite yourself, heart fluttering in your chest.

Yeosang’s lips tug into a lazy grin, and he slowly pushes himself off the chair, walking toward you with measured, deliberate steps.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, feigning defiance, but your pulse quickens slightly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you quip as he lowers himself onto the couch, his hands bracketing your thighs.

Yeosang’s eyes glimmer softly, and he tilts his head slightly, smiling sweetly, but his voice drops into a soft murmur—so low it makes your skin prickle with anticipation.

“You’re being awfully mouthy tonight, baby,” fingers skimming over your knee, slow and featherlight.

Your stomach flips violently, but you raise your chin slightly, pretending to look unimpressed.

“Am I?”

Yeosang’s smile widens.

“Mhm.” He hums softly, leaning down, his lips brushing against your jaw as he murmurs, “Maybe I should do something about that.”

Your breath catches softly, but you smirk slightly, still trying to maintain the upper hand.

“Oh?” tilting your head coyly, “Like what?”

Yeosang lets out a soft, breathy chuckle, the sound low and melodic. His hand slowly slides up your thigh, warm and firm, his fingertips barely grazing the hem of your dress.

His lips ghost over your ear, and his voice drops to a whisper, soft and delicate against your skin.

“Like making you forget how to talk,” You shiver instantly, your fingers tightening slightly around the glass stem, but you keep your voice airy.

“Good luck with that.”

Yeosang deliberately drags his mouth down your throat, planting soft, lingering kisses along your neck, moving with excruciating slowness.

You tilt your head back slightly, eyes fluttering shut for half a second, but you bite your lip sharply, refusing to give in so easily.

But he knows.

He always knows.

“You’re not very good at hiding it,” his lips brushing over your pulse, voice low and breathy.

Your heart skips a beat, but you still try to hold your ground.

“Please.” You scoff lightly, eyes flickering open. “You think you’re that good?”

Yeosang smiles against your skin, his hand suddenly slips beneath your dress, fingers slow and deliberate as he trails them up the inside of your thigh, barely brushing against your skin.

Your breath hitches softly, but you force your expression neutral, fighting the shiver that rolls through you.

But Yeosang doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench subtly, nor does he miss the slight hitch in your breathing.

He smirks softly.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs softly, voice barely above a whisper, lips brushing against your earlobe, “I know I’m that good.”

You tilt your head slightly, arching a teasing brow.

“Then why am I still talking?”

And then—so casually it makes your head spin—he spits into his hand. Your stomach flips violently, and your eyes widen slightly, heat flaring beneath your skin.

But you still smirk softly, despite the way your thighs clench involuntarily.

“Mm,” you hum playfully, pretending to inspect your nails, “that’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

Yeosang’s eyes glimmer darkly, and the corner of his mouth twitches slightly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos softly, his voice silky and slow, “I don’t think you want me to be a gentleman right now.”

You barely have time to breathe before he slips his hand between your thighs, dragging his slick fingers along your slit, spreading the wetness with deliberate, excruciating slowness.

Next thing you know, Yeosang is on you.

He picks you up and backs you against the wall, mouth crashing against yours. The kiss is filthy—all tongue and teeth. His fingers tangle in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to let him bite down on your bottom lip. Hard. You let out a whimper against his mouth, and he groans softly, lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your skin, leaving marks.

“Fucking knew you’d let me wreck you,” he growls against your throat. His hands grip your hips roughly, shoving you backward against the wall. His knee wedges between your wet highs, and he grinds it against you, dragging a broken moan from your lips.

Your hands scramble at his shirt, pulling it off his shoulders. He shrugs it off, eyes wild, impatient. His hands drop to your thighs, lifting you with ease, and you yelp softly as he carries you toward the nearest surface—your kitchen counter.

He dumps you there gently but still assertively, spreading your legs wide with his hands, shoving your dress up around your waist.

“Fucking look at you,” he murmurs, voice dripping with condescension. His eyes glimmer with cruel satisfaction as he watches you squirm. “So wet baby.”

You glare at him weakly, but your sharp retort dies on your tongue when he suddenly spits onto his fingers again—slow and deliberate—before dragging them through your slick folds.

You gasp softly, thighs trembling slightly at the obscene sensation.

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes locking onto yours. “You’re dripping all over the counter.”

“Your fault, Yeo. I gotta cook here ya know?”

“Hush.”

His fingers sink into you again, rougher this time. No teasing—just pure, hungry need. You let out a choked moan, gripping his shoulders for balance as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet sound of your arousal filling the kitchen.

“Such a mess,” he mutters, voice thick with arousal. He shoves his fingers deeper, curling them against your sweet spot. “You like making a mess for me, don’t you?”

Your breathless moans are answer enough.

But he’s not satisfied with just his fingers.

Yeosang suddenly drops to his knees between your thighs. His hands grip your hips roughly, dragging you forward until your ass is almost hanging off the counter.

“Keep your fucking legs open,” he orders darkly.

And then he devours you.

His tongue lashes against your clit, merciless and rough, making you cry out, your hands flying to his red curly hair, gripping tight. He groans into your pussy, the vibration making your legs tremble violently.

“Yeosang—” you gasp, hips bucking into his mouth.

He grips your thighs tighter, holding you in place with bruising force. His tongue flicks and circles, alternating between sucking and lashing, fucking you with fast, messy strokes.

You scream his name, head falling back against the cabinets.

He suddenly pulls back slightly, lips slick with your arousal, eyes hooded and feral.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

Your glassy eyes flutter open, and he holds your gaze as he slowly spits onto your already dripping core, watching it drip down over your folds.

“Fucking filthy,” he mutters darkly before diving back in.

He ravages you—sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling and flicking until your thighs are trembling uncontrollably. Your fingers are fisted in his hair, yanking at the strands, and he groans against your cunt at the pain, his hips grinding into the floor.

“Yeosang—fuck—please, I’m gonna—”

“Come.” His voice is muffled but commanding, feral. “Come on my fucking face.”

And you do. Hard. Your back arches violently, thighs trembling around his head, but he doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it with his tongue, making you shake and sob, overstimulated and dripping.

You can barely breathe, but Yeosang is already on his feet, unbuckling his belt. His eyes are dark—feral. His lips are slick with your arousal, and he wipes them with the back of his hand, smirking.

“Turn around for me baby.”

You’re still dazed, legs weak, but you obey. You press your hands against the counter, arching your back slightly. You feel his hands shove your dress up again, his palm coming down hard on your ass, making you gasp.

“Fucking dripping for me,” he growls, slipping the head of his cock through your slick folds. “Shit, I love you.”

He grips your hair, yanking your head back slightly.

“You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?” he breathes into your ear. “Make you my favorite slut?”

You whimper, your body already shaking with need–loving when a switch turns on for Yeosang in times like this.

“Fucking say it,” he commands, his voice like gravel and sin.

“Yes,” you gasp breathlessly. “Please. Fuck me. Use me.”

Yeosang slams into you without warning, burying himself to the hilt with one rough thrust.

You scream, legs trembling as he fills you completely, stretching you wide.

“How are you so damn tight,” he grunts, voice low and strained. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

He grips your hips tightly, holding you in place as he pounds into you, merciless and unforgiving. Each thrust is sharp and deep, driving you into the counter.

“Fucking take it,” he growls, his hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you back against him. “Take it like a good girl.”

Your eyes roll back, body already trembling, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking you raw, wrecking you completely—his low growls and broken moans spilling into your ear.

And he doesn’t stop until you’re completely ruined.

You barely have time to catch your breath.

Yeosang is still buried inside you, cock pulsing with every deep thrust. Your nails are clawing at the counter, legs weak and trembling, but he doesn’t let up. His hand is still wrapped around your throat, holding you in place, his hips snapping forward with bruising force.

“Fuck,” he growls into your ear, voice thick and feral. “Gripping me like you’re made for me.”

You’re whimpering, broken moans spilling from your lips with each thrust. You feel completely wrecked, legs trembling violently, your slick dripping down your thighs, making a mess of the counter.

But Yeosang isn’t satisfied–and quite frankly, neither are you.

You feel him pull out abruptly, and you let out a small gasp at the sudden emptiness. Your walls clench around nothing, desperate for him, but he doesn’t give you what you want.

Not yet.

You barely have time to register what’s happening before you feel his hand fist in your hair, yanking you back slightly. His other hand grips your jaw, tilting your head to the side until your eyes meet his.

“You’re making a fucking mess of my dick,” he mutters darkly, voice low and condescending. His fingers press into your cheeks, forcing your lips open. “You want me to clean you up, baby?”

You barely have time to nod before he spits into your mouth, slow and deliberate.

“Swallow it.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you obey, the filthy act making you clench around nothing, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.

“Good girl.”

And then you feel it.

The cold shock against your bare skin.

Your eyes snap open, and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel him drag an ice cube down your spine, trailing it along your heated skin. The sudden chill makes you shiver violently, your nipples tightening instantly, the contrast between heat and cold making you gasp softly.

Yeosang’s lips curl into a wicked smirk.

“Too much?” his voice laced with mock sympathy.

Before you can answer, he slips the ice cube lower, trailing it over your ass, then slowly down between your legs, pressing it against your over-sensitive clit.

You scream softly, your hips bucking violently at the sudden cold burn, your thighs clamping shut instinctively.

“Oh no, no, no,” he tuts, forcing your thighs apart. “You’re not getting away that easily.”

You’re panting, legs trembling violently as the ice slowly melts against your clit. The sting of the cold combined with your oversensitive flesh makes you cry out, body shuddering as your hips jerk and writhe beneath him.

“Fuck—you’re shaking already,” he murmurs, mocking you, his fingers pressing the ice cube harder against your clit. “What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you?”

You whimper, squirming against the counter, but he just tightens his grip on your hips, holding you still.

“You can take it,” he growls softly. “Be a good girl and take it.”

Your entire body jolts as he pushes the ice inside you, slipping the half-melted cube into your soaked, trembling pussy.

You scream softly, your nails clawing at the counter, hips jerking violently at the sensation—the sudden cold deep inside you making you clench around it, your walls pulsing with overstimulation.

Yeosang breathes harshly, watching your body shudder and writhe around the ice. His cock twitches against your inner thigh, still slick from your previous orgasms.

You’re trembling violently, barely able to stay upright, but he doesn’t give you a break. His fingers slide inside you, pushing the ice deeper, fucking it into you with slow, deliberate thrusts.

“Can’t believe this is all mine” he growls softly, watching the water drip from your core, mixing with your slick, leaving a wet trail down your thighs.

“All yours, baby.”

You sob softly, your body trembling violently, desperate for relief, but he just keeps going—pushing the ice deeper with each thrust of his fingers, making you squirm and sob.

“Y-Yeosang—fuck—please,” you gasp brokenly, clinging to the counter.

“Please what?” he taunts, his lips brushing against your ear. “You want me to stop?”

You shake your head, your thighs trembling violently.

“No? I need words baby.”

“No, don’t stop, Yeo.”

His voice is mocking, dark and low. “Of course not. You fucking love it.”

And then—just when you think you can’t take any more—you feel him pull you back roughly by your hair again.

Your eyes snap open.

And that’s when you see it.

The large kitchen window directly in front of you.

Your stomach tightens violently.

It’s wide open—and you can see directly into the street. A few people are walking by. Close enough to see.

Your eyes widen slightly, and Yeosang chuckles darkly against your throat.

“Just noticing, baby?”

You whimper softly, squirming beneath him, but he tightens his grip on your hair, yanking your head back sharply, forcing you to look.

“You think they can see you?” lips brushing your ear.

“See you trembling like a messy little slut? You think they can hear you?”

Your face burns with humiliation, but the filthy thrill of the risk makes you clench around his fingers, body dripping and trembling.

“Fuck, you’re getting wetter,” he groans. “You like it, huh? The thought of them watching me ruin you?”

You let out a broken sob, but you can’t deny the way your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

Yeosang suddenly pulls his fingers from your soaking cunt, and you let out a soft whimper at the sudden emptiness.

But he’s not done.

He slams into you again, filling you completely in one deep thrust, making you scream his name, the sound muffled against the window.

“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” he orders. “Keep them open.”

You lock eyes with your own reflection, watching yourself get fucked raw—on display, trembling and broken for anyone who passes by.

And you come so hard you nearly black out.

—

You’re trembling so violently you can barely stand.

Your arms are weak, trembling against the counter, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Your thighs are slick with your own arousal, the counter beneath you is wet and messy, and you’re certain the neighbors can hear you.

But Yeosang is still far from done.

He’s still buried inside you, cock pulsing hot and thick, dragging against your sensitive walls with slow, deliberate thrusts. His fingers are still in your hair, keeping you pressed against the counter, forcing you to stare at your own reflection in the window—face ruined with lust, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen, and your cheeks streaked with his spit.

“Fucking look at yourself,” he growls softly into your ear. His teeth drag against your throat, leaving small, stinging bites along the curve of your neck. “Look at how pretty you are baby. Letting me wreck you like this.”

You can barely breathe. Your mouth falls open in a soft whimper, a mixture of pleasure and desperation spilling from your lips.

You meet your own eyes in the reflection, and you’re almost shocked by what you see. Your face is flushed and dazed, completely wrecked. Your mascara is smudged, eyes glassy with tears of overstimulation.

Yeosang’s eyes glimmer with dark satisfaction as he drags your head back by your hair, tilting it at an angle that makes you see everything.

“You see that, baby?” he murmurs against your ear. His breath is hot and heavy, sending shivers down your spine. “That’s what you look like when I’m fucking your brains out.”

You sob softly, thighs trembling violently, you clench around him, slick coating his cock.

“Fuck—” he hisses sharply, his hand fisting your hair tighter, holding you in place.

He suddenly pulls out of you—leaving you empty and pulsing—and you let out a broken whimper at the sudden loss. Your hands clutch weakly at the counter, too wrecked to move, but Yeosang is already pulling you around to face him.

“Can you get on your knees for me?”

Your legs buckle slightly, but you drop to the floor without hesitation, crawling for him on shaky limbs.

Yeosang’s lips curl into a cruel smirk as he watches you kneel at his feet, mouth slightly parted.

He breathes, stroking himself slowly, his eyes locked onto yours. His cock is slick with your arousal, glistening in the low light, and you lick your lips involuntarily, your mouth watering at the sight.

He notices.

“Hungry for it?”

“Only for you,” eyes desperate and hazy, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Open your mouth,” he commands.

You obey without hesitation, lips parting obediently, eyes wide and hungry.

Yeosang lets out a low, filthy groan, his hand fisting in your hair again, holding you still.

“Look at you,”

“On your knees for me. So fucking desperate. You’d let anyone watch me fuck your throat, wouldn’t you?”

You whimper softly, your thighs clenching instinctively at his filthy words.

“Would you let them watch you choke on my cock?” His thumb drags over your bottom lip, forcing it down slightly. “Let them see you gag and drool for me?”

You can’t hold back the broken moan that falls from your lips.

“Yeah?” he smirks. “Of course you would. You’re already making a mess just thinking about it.”

And then he shoves himself into your mouth.

You gag instantly, throat tightening around the head of his cock, but he doesn’t stop. He fucks into your throat without mercy, his hands tight in your hair, holding your head still as he forces himself deeper.

“Fucking take it, sweetheart,” he growls. “All of it.”

Your eyes water, tears spilling down your cheeks, but you take him deeper, throat constricting around him, making him groan loudly.

“That’s it,” he mutters darkly, pumping into your throat with slow, deliberate thrusts, watching you choke and drool around him. “God, you look so beautiful like this.”

You whimper brokenly, spit dripping down your chin, eyes glassy and ruined, throat raw, but you don’t stop.

“Tsk tsk, soooo messy” he grunts, his voice low and rough. He suddenly pulls out, making you gasp for air, drool spilling down your chin.

“Open your mouth again,” voice thick with arousal.

You part your lips, gasping softly, and he spits directly into your mouth again.

“You love swapping spit don't ya? Tasting me–us, together” he growls.

You obey, tongue darting out slightly to catch the last trail of saliva, and he groans softly at the sight.

“You’re perfect.”

And then he’s hauling you up with one strong hand, bending you over the counter again, and slamming into you from behind.

You scream at the sudden, brutal stretch, but he just grabs your wrists, pinning them behind your back with one hand, completely immobilizing you.

“I got you, you’re okay baby.”

Your cheek is pressed against the cool counter, and you’re completely at his mercy—legs trembling, arms bound behind your back, completely helpless.

And he fucks you into the counter, merciless and rough.

“Come for me,” he orders, voice rough and breathless. “Come while they watch you outside the window.”

And you do—screaming his name so loudly it echoes through the kitchen, your entire body convulsing violently, legs trembling uncontrollably as you gush around him, dripping down your thighs and onto the counter.

Yeosang groans loudly, slamming into you one last time before coming deep inside you, filling you completely, marking you as his.

And through the haze of your orgasm, you swear you see movement through the window.

But you’re too wrecked to care.

—

Your cheek is still pressed against the counter, skin flushed and damp with sweat. You feel completely boneless, limp and weak, your thighs still shuddering with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Yeosang is still buried inside you, cock twitching weakly, pulsing with the remnants of his release, keeping you stuffed and full. You’re both panting softly, bodies slick with sweat, chests heaving with exertion.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your shaky, uneven breathing, the faint drip of melting ice against the counter, and the soft hum of the refrigerator.

And then—you feel it.

Yeosang’s lips on your shoulder.

Soft, lingering, gentle kisses, brushing over the marks he left behind. His breath is warm and slow, slightly shaky from his own release, but his lips are infinitely tender.

“Damn,” he breathes softly against your skin, his voice still slightly hoarse, but infused with warmth. “Baby…”

He slips out of you slowly, and you whimper softly at the sudden emptiness, your thighs trembling from the sensitivity. You can feel his release slipping out of you, warm and sticky dripping down your thighs, but you’re too spent to move.

Yeosang notices immediately.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs softly, running his hands over your hips, his voice instantly gentle. “I’ve got you.”

You feel his arms loop around you, strong and steady, as he lifts you with ease, pulling you into his chest. Your legs are weak, unable to support your weight, but he holds you effortlessly, cradling you against him.

“You okay?” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing against your temple, voice filled with genuine concern.

You’re too wrecked to speak—only able to nod weakly against his chest.

But he doesn’t miss the way you shiver slightly, still trembling from the overstimulation and exhaustion.

“Shh, baby,” he coos softly, tightening his hold on you. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

You feel his lips press softly against your forehead, the lingering kiss making your heart squeeze.

Yeosang carefully carries you into the bathroom, walking with slow, steady steps. His arms are strong and protective, holding you with so much care it makes your chest ache.

He gently sets you down on the edge of the bathtub, keeping one hand on your waist to steady you, making sure you’re not going to topple over.

“Stay right here,” brushing your hair out of your face with slow, tender strokes.

You feel his fingers trail down your cheek, the touch soft and reverent. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, where it’s still slightly swollen from where he fucked your mouth.

His eyes soften with guilt.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks softly, voice barely above a whisper.

You shake your head weakly, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, and offer him a small, lazy smile.

“Not even a little, you did say I would stop talking didn’t you?” you chuckle–amusement in your features.

His lips twitch slightly, but his eyes are still soft with concern.

“Still,” he says quietly, brushing your hair from your damp forehead. “I’m going to take care of you.”

You watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he turns on the water, adjusting the temperature until it’s perfectly warm. You let out a soft sigh when he sinks down in front of you, kneeling on the bathroom floor.

And then—so fucking gently—he cleans you up.

He grabs a clean, damp washcloth, and slowly and carefully begins to wipe you down, starting with your thighs, where his release is still slick and dripping.

The fabric is warm and soft, and his touch is so tender it makes your chest tighten with emotion.

“Shh,” he feels you tense slightly, still sensitive from the overstimulation. His free hand strokes your thigh soothingly, grounding you. “I’m being gentle, baby.”

And he is.

So fucking gentle.

He cleans you slowly, taking his time, treating you like you’re made of glass. You watch him through sleepy eyes, still a little dazed, and you feel your heart swell at the way he worships you with his touch.

His fingers stroke over your skin, reverent and slow, lingering on every bruise he left behind. You watch as he presses small, tender kisses over the marks—apologizing silently with every kiss.

When he’s done, he carefully pulls you into the bath, easing you into the warm water. You let out a soft, blissful sigh as the heat soothes your aching muscles, and you relax into him completely.

Yeosang slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You melt into him, your head lolling against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as the warm water and his steady breathing lull you into a content haze.

For a while, you both just sit there.

No words.

Just the gentle sound of the water, the faint hum of your soft breathing, and the slow, rhythmic brush of his fingers tracing circles over your bare stomach.

His lips press softly against your temple.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispers against your skin, voice soft and reverent. “So fucking perfect for me.”

You let out a soft, breathy sigh, tilting your head slightly to nuzzle into his neck, feeling utterly safe in his arms.

He tilts his head slightly, brushing his lips against your hairline, and you feel his smile against your skin.

“Y’know,” voice playful now, “I think you really liked the window being open.”

You flush instantly, eyes snapping open as you twist slightly in his arms, shooting him a glare.

“Yeosang!” you scold weakly, swatting at his chest.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm, completely unrepentant.

“Don’t even try to deny it,” he teases, nipping playfully at your jaw. “You were clenching around me so tight, baby. I think you wanted them to see you.”

Your cheeks burn, and you smack his chest lightly again, but he just grins mischievously, catching your wrist and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Don’t worry,” he purrs softly, lips brushing against your hand, eyes dark with promise. “Next time, we’ll make sure they have a real show.”

Your stomach flips violently.

But for now—you let him hold you, let him soothe you—completely wrecked and utterly loved.

130 notes · View notes

yoo--kihyun · 3 days ago

Text

i'm not surprised at all

#wooyoung #yeosang #ateez

1K notes · View notes

velvetvisionsaurora · 2 days ago

Text

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her. Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) y/n gets switched to a real name but it has a purpose. More warnings to be updated.

<<Previous Next>>

Masterlist

Chapter 12

Breaking Points

The captain's quarters were unusually crowded for a strategy meeting. Hongjoong sat behind his desk, maps and charts temporarily cleared to make space for the bottle of rum and glasses that Wooyoung had insisted on bringing.

"This isn't just a meeting," Wooyoung had declared as he burst in with the supplies. "It's a celebration."

Yunho leaned against the wall near the porthole, his tall frame folded into what little space remained. Across from him, Wooyoung perched on the edge of a storage trunk, already pouring generous portions of rum into mismatched glasses. Only Seonghwa maintained his usual perfect posture, seated at the chair opposite Hongjoong's desk, his back rigid and expression carefully neutral.

"To finding y/n," Wooyoung announced, raising his glass with characteristic enthusiasm. "After fifteen years of searching, false leads, and disappointments, we finally did it!"

Yunho and Hongjoong raised their glasses in agreement, though Seonghwa's participation was noticeably less enthusiastic, his movement mechanical rather than celebratory.

"It still doesn't seem real," Yunho said after taking a sip. "Even after seeing her with Mingi in the medical bay... part of me can't believe we actually found her."

"Found her?" Wooyoung scoffed good-naturedly. "She found us! Walked right into that auction house and practically delivered herself to Hongjoong. The universe has a strange sense of humor."

"Or justice," Hongjoong added quietly. "After fifteen years, we deserved a little cosmic assistance."

The room fell silent as each man contemplated the extraordinary circumstances that had brought y/n back into their lives.

"Have you considered what happens next?" Seonghwa asked, breaking the silence. His tone was measured, practical, devoid of the wonder that colored the others' voices.

"What do you mean?" Yunho asked.

"Our mission for fifteen years has been to find her," Seonghwa continued, his fingers absently straightening the edges of a nearby map. "Now that we've succeeded, what is our purpose? Do we continue targeting Blackwell's operations? Do we return to more conventional piracy? Do we..." he hesitated, "...alter our course entirely?"

"I think that's something we all need to figure out together," Hongjoong replied carefully. "Including y/n. Her perspective matters in this decision."

"Her perspective?" Seonghwa's eyebrow rose slightly. "She's been aboard for less than two weeks. Regardless of our shared childhood, she knows nothing of our operations, our strategic objectives, or the alliances we've built over fifteen years."

"She's a quick study," Wooyoung countered, his usual playfulness hardening slightly. "And she knows more about Blackwell's operation than anyone we've ever encountered. She's already provided intelligence that would have taken us months to gather through conventional means."

"I'm not questioning her value as an information source," Seonghwa clarified, his tone sharpening. "I'm questioning the wisdom of immediately integrating her into strategic decision-making when she's only just beginning to adjust to her new circumstances."

Something in his carefully controlled delivery sparked visible frustration in Wooyoung. He set his glass down with more force than necessary, rum sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

"What is wrong with you?" he demanded. "Ever since y/n revealed herself, you've been acting like she's some kind of... intruder. Like finding her is an inconvenience rather than the fulfillment of everything we've been working toward."

"I'm being realistic," Seonghwa replied, his voice cooling. "Someone needs to maintain operational perspective while the rest of you indulge in emotional reunion fantasies."

"Fantasies?" Wooyoung's voice rose incredulously. "There's nothing fantasy about it! She's here, she's real, and she's the same person we've been searching for since we were children!"

"Is she?" Seonghwa challenged, his composure finally showing cracks. "The five-year-old girl we knew aboard The Crimson Serpent no longer exists. She's been replaced by a twenty-year-old woman shaped by fifteen years of captivity and calculated survival. We know almost nothing about who she's become."

"We know exactly who she is," Wooyoung insisted, standing now as his frustration grew. "She breaks honey cakes in half before eating them. She arranges objects at right angles when distracted. She knows star patterns Yunho taught her. She recognized Mingi's compass mark. What more proof do you need?"

"Those are habits, not identity," Seonghwa countered, his posture growing more rigid with tension. "Surface behaviors that survived captivity, not confirmation of unchanged character or compatible objectives."

"Wooyoung, Seonghwa," Hongjoong began, his captain's voice cutting through the tension.

"No, I want to understand this," Wooyoung interrupted. "We've spent fifteen years searching for her. Now that we've found her, you're suddenly keeping your distance, treating her like she's a threat rather than the fulfillment of our oath. What happened to 'we promised to find her no matter how long it takes'?"

"We promised to find her," Seonghwa replied, his voice tight. "We didn't promise to abandon all rational caution upon doing so."

"Rational caution?" Wooyoung repeated incredulously. "Is that what you call barely speaking to her? Avoiding any moment alone with her? Arranging her quarters and belongings without ever directly interacting with her?"

"I'm respecting her need for adjustment," Seonghwa insisted. "Unlike you, who immediately expects her to resume childhood connections as if fifteen years of trauma simply doesn't matter."

"That's not fair," Yunho interjected, his gentle voice unusually firm. "None of us expects her to be unchanged. We're all giving her space to define our relationships on her terms."

"Are we?" Seonghwa challenged, turning toward the tall boatswain. "Or are we projecting fifteen years of fantasy onto someone who happens to match physical description and exhibit certain familiar habits?"

Hongjoong leaned forward, his attention fully focused on his quartermaster.

"Seonghwa," he said quietly, "what's really bothering you about y/n’s return?"

For a moment, it seemed Seonghwa might maintain his composure. Then something shifted in his expression—a fracture in the perfect control he had maintained not just for days but for fifteen years.

"She called him 'Puppy,'" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" Wooyoung asked, confusion temporarily displacing anger.

"When Mingi was brought in after the battle," Seonghwa continued, each word emerging with difficulty. "Bleeding, unconscious, possibly dying. She broke through her careful disguise and called him 'Puppy.' Not Yunho, not Wooyoung, not Hongjoong. Mingi."

Understanding dawned across Yunho's gentle features. "You think her strongest connection was with Mingi. That's why his injury triggered her revelation."

"I don't think," Seonghwa corrected, unusual emotion coloring his voice. "I know. I was watching her face when we carried him in. That wasn't calculated decision or strategic revelation. That was pure emotional response. Something she couldn't control despite fifteen years learning to control everything."

"And this bothers you because...?" Hongjoong prompted, though his expression suggested he already understood.

Seonghwa's hands moved to the edge of the desk, fingers gripping the wood with unusual force as his perfect posture finally collapsed. "Because it should have been me!" he burst out, voice cracking with emotion. "I was supposed to protect her that day in Halazia! I was the one with her when Captain Redmond found us!"

The outburst stunned even Wooyoung into momentary silence. Seonghwa's carefully maintained composure had shattered completely, revealing raw pain that had apparently survived fifteen years beneath his methodical exterior.

"It was my plan that failed," he continued, words rushing out now that the barrier had broken. "My responsibility to get her to the delivery crate. My failure that allowed Redmond to take her directly to auction."

"Seonghwa," Yunho said gently, "we all failed that day. It wasn't just your responsibility."

"I was the oldest," Seonghwa insisted, anguish evident despite his attempt to regain control. "The one who made the plans. The one who was supposed to anticipate problems and create contingencies. The one who promised her 'We'll take care of you' that first night aboard The Crimson Serpent."

"And when she finally revealed herself," he continued, voice dropping to a near whisper, "it wasn't because of me. Not because of my planning or preparation or fifteen years of methodical searching. But because Mingi was injured. Because emotional connection overrode strategic calculation despite fifteen years of careful control."

"You're blaming yourself for something that happened when you were eight years old," Hongjoong said finally. "Holding yourself to an impossible standard that no child could have met under those circumstances."

"My age doesn't change what happened," Seonghwa replied, though some of the intensity had drained from his voice. "She was taken because my plan failed. She endured fifteen years of captivity because I couldn't protect her that day."

"And you've been carrying that guilt for fifteen years," Yunho observed gently. "Using it as fuel for your obsessive planning, your meticulous strategies, your refusal to accept even minimal possibility of failure in any operation since."

For a moment, Seonghwa seemed about to deny this interpretation. Then his shoulders slumped slightly, uncharacteristic defeat showing in his usually perfect posture.

"What else could I do?" he asked quietly. "How else could I make amends for such catastrophic failure?"

"You could talk to her," Wooyoung suggested, his earlier anger replaced by genuine compassion. "Tell her what you just told us. Let her decide whether forgiveness is needed rather than assuming it's impossible."

The simple suggestion seemed to startle Seonghwa despite its obvious practicality.

"She might surprise you," Yunho added gently. "Y/n sees more than most people think. Just like when we were children."

"She understands Blackwell's psychological tactics better than anyone," Hongjoong contributed. "The way he deliberately isolated household members to prevent alliances, how he separated people who formed connections. She'd recognize that same pattern in your withdrawal."

Seonghwa remained silent, absorbing these perspectives without immediate response. Unlike his usual quick analysis, this particular situation seemed to require deeper consideration.

"I don't know how," he admitted finally, rare uncertainty replacing his typical precise certainty. "Fifteen years developing methods for finding her, and I have no protocol for actually interacting with her now that we have."

"Just talk to her," Wooyoung urged again. "Not as Quartermaster Seonghwa of the feared ATEEZ, but as the boy who once called her 'dove' when you thought no one could hear."

Seonghwa's head snapped up, surprise evident despite his attempt to maintain composure. "How did you—"

"We all had our names for her," Wooyoung admitted with a small smile. "You weren't as discreet as you thought when arranging her blankets at night or checking her hiding places were secure."

"I'll... consider it," Seonghwa said finally. "After I've developed appropriate approach and suitable methodology."

"Or you could just knock on her door and start with 'I'm sorry,'" Wooyoung suggested, gentle teasing returning to his voice. "Sometimes the direct approach works better than elaborate strategy, you know."

Before Seonghwa could respond, a knock interrupted their discussion. The door opened to reveal a crew member.

"Captain," she reported, "Master Gunner Mingi is awake and responsive. Doctor Yeosang reports significant improvement."

"Thank you," Hongjoong acknowledged, pleasure warming his voice. "Inform the doctor we'll visit when appropriate."

As the messenger departed, momentary silence settled over the captain's quarters.

"We should go see him," Wooyoung suggested. "Especially since this is the first time he's been fully conscious since y/n revealed herself."

"Agreed," Hongjoong confirmed, rising from his desk. "But Seonghwa, this conversation isn't finished. What you're carrying isn't just your burden to bear."

"Fifteen years is long enough to punish yourself for circumstances beyond your control," Yunho added gently. "Especially for actions taken when you were eight years old trying to protect someone against impossible odds."

Seonghwa didn't respond verbally, though a subtle shift in his expression suggested impact beyond polite acknowledgment.

As the officers prepared to depart, Seonghwa's voice stopped them momentarily—quieter than his usual precise delivery.

"I am glad we found her," he said. "Despite my... difficulties... with appropriate response or suitable interaction. Finding her represents fulfillment beyond merely mission completion."

"We know," Hongjoong assured him. "Just as she'll understand when you're ready to explain."

With this mutual understanding established, the ATEEZ officers departed toward the medical bay—shared purpose flowing beyond individual concerns or personal hesitations.

Y/n stood at the observation deck's railing, watching stars emerge against the deepening blue as sunset transitioned toward night. After spending most of the day beside Mingi's treatment bed, she had eventually yielded to Yeosang's insistence that she take a break—"fresh air and different surroundings," he had prescribed with gentle authority that brooked no argument.

The open sky above and endless horizon beyond created a sensation of expansion that still felt novel despite several days aboard the ATEEZ. Unlike Blackwell's household with its deliberately restricted views, this unobstructed perspective offered liberation beyond merely physical accommodation.

"Star watching again?" Hongjoong's voice came from behind her.

"Old habits," she acknowledged, turning to watch him approach. "Yeosang insisted I take a break from the medical bay, and this seemed the natural destination."

"How's Mingi doing?" Hongjoong asked, genuine concern evident despite his casual phrasing.

"Better than expected," y/n replied, pleasure warming her voice despite lingering worry. "The wound is healing remarkably well according to Yeosang. He's fully conscious now, though still weak from blood loss."

"And emotionally?"

Y/n considered this carefully. "Processing. Just as we all are. Fifteen years searching for someone creates certain expectations, certain imagined scenarios. Reality inevitably differs from those projections."

"You've become remarkably perceptive," Hongjoong noted with genuine appreciation. "Though perhaps you always were, and circumstances simply developed existing abilities rather than creating entirely new ones."

"Necessity," y/n replied with a small shrug. "Survival in Blackwell's household required accurate assessment beyond merely visible behavior. Understanding motivations beneath surface actions often meant the difference between avoiding punishment and suffering consequences."

For several comfortable moments, they stood in companionable silence, watching stars emerge with increasing clarity. Unlike the awkwardness that extended separation might have created, their interaction flowed with natural ease despite fifteen years' absence.

"I spoke with Seonghwa today," Hongjoong said eventually. "About his... difficulty... engaging with you since your identity revelation."

Y/n nodded. "I'd noticed his withdrawal. The careful distance, the professional courtesy without personal engagement, the practical arrangements made without direct interaction."

"He's carrying significant guilt," Hongjoong explained. "Believes your capture during our escape attempt represents his personal failure rather than collective responsibility or circumstantial outcome."

"Because he was with me when Captain Redmond found us," y/n concluded immediately. "Because his plan included getting me to the delivery crate near the port-side loading area, and when that became impossible due to the fire, he had no contingency strategy immediately available."

"You remember the plan?" Hongjoong asked, wonder flowing beneath the simple question.

"Every aspect," y/n confirmed without hesitation. "Wooyoung creating distraction in the galley using cook's rum stores. Yunho and Seonghwa moving me to delivery crate with air holes that looked like wood damage. Mingi watching dock for safe passage and appropriate signal timing. You creating navigation record confusion to delay departure and subsequent pursuit."

The precise recitation created visible impact across Hongjoong's features, genuine emotion flowing beneath the captain's habitual control.

"We never thought..." he began, then paused before continuing more steadily. "We assumed such details would have faded given your age at the time and subsequent traumatic experiences."

"Some experiences embed themselves beyond normal memory limitations," y/n explained quietly. "Especially those carrying significant emotional weight."

For a moment, Hongjoong seemed at a loss for an appropriate response.

"Seonghwa needs to know this," he said finally. "That you remember not just the failure but the attempt. Not just the outcome but the intention and substantial effort behind it."

"I've been waiting for him to approach me," y/n admitted. "Giving him space to process whatever adjustment he needs following identity confirmation. Fifteen years developing methods for finding someone creates certain expectations that reality inevitably challenges."

"You understand him remarkably well despite limited direct interaction."

"We share certain characteristics," y/n explained with a small smile. "The careful planning, the methodical organization, the preference for controlled environment. These aren't merely personality traits but developed survival strategies serving different contexts."

As night fully claimed the sky, stars blazing against perfect darkness, Hongjoong's expression shifted subtly.

"Would you like to see something?" he asked. "Something I've kept hidden from even the other officers despite fifteen years together aboard this ship?"

"Of course," she replied, curiosity flowing beyond cautious restraint.

With decisive movement, Hongjoong led her from the observation deck toward a specific section of the ATEEZ rarely accessed by regular crew members.

"The navigation room?" Y/n asked as their destination became apparent.

"Not exactly," Hongjoong replied, a small smile suggesting significance beyond ordinary understanding. "Though that's what everyone else believes."

When they reached an ordinary-appearing door marked with a simple navigation designation, Hongjoong removed a key from around his neck.

"No one else has ever entered this room," he explained as he inserted the key into the lock. "Not even Seonghwa, who knows everything else about this ship and its operations."

As the door opened, Hongjoong gestured for y/n to enter first.

The room beyond appeared smaller than expected given its apparent significance, though careful organization maximized available space without creating a cramped atmosphere.

Every wall, from floor to ceiling, contained carefully mounted display cases. Within each transparent housing, meticulously arranged items told a story beyond mere collection—narrative flowing through physical objects rather than merely written words.

"What is this place?" Y/n asked softly, wonder flowing beneath her simple question.

"I call it the Memory Room," Hongjoong replied, unusual vulnerability replacing his typical strategic approach. "Though that's an unnecessarily dramatic name for what amounts to a personal museum beyond practical purpose."

As y/n moved closer to the nearest display case, its contents became clearer—small wooden animals arranged in chronological sequence, each bearing a distinctive compass marking, timeline extending from crude early attempts toward increasingly sophisticated creations.

"Mingi's carvings," she whispered. "You've collected them throughout the years."

"One from each port we've visited," Hongjoong confirmed, genuine emotion warming his voice. "Fifteen years of wooden messengers left throughout the maritime world, hoping somehow one might reach you despite impossible odds."

Each case revealed a similar pattern despite different contents—personal collections maintained by Hongjoong without their creators' knowledge. Yunho's star charts from various hemispheres and multiple seasons. Seonghwa's miniature maps of ports visited and harbors navigated.

"You've documented everything," y/n observed. "Not just our search for me, but their individual journeys throughout these fifteen years."

"They deserved remembrance beyond merely operational record," Hongjoong explained, genuine emotion coloring his voice. "Their development mattered beyond tactical contribution, their individual experiences significant beyond merely practical outcome."

"And here," Hongjoong said finally, approaching a case situated at the room's center. "The beginning of everything."

Within transparent housing, a small scrap of red fabric contained a crude compass drawn with remarkable precision despite simple materials. Five points arranged in perfect symmetry, a childish hand executing an adult concept with surprising accuracy.

"The original compass design," y/n whispered. "The one I watched Mingi create aboard The Crimson Serpent, before he carved it into that wooden star for Mr. Hugs."

"You remember that?" Hongjoong asked softly, wonder flowing beneath the simple question.

"I remember everything," y/n confirmed. "Mingi drawing this design late one night when everyone else was sleeping. Showing it to me with a rare smile. Explaining through gestures rather than words that five points represented five boys who would always protect me."

"When we found Mr. Hugs in Halazia harbor," Hongjoong explained, "the wooden star had fallen off during the struggle with Captain Redmond. We found it in the mud nearby. Mingi kept the original as a pendant, but I saved this fabric pattern that he used as his guide. It became our symbol - the compass that would lead us back to you."

He touched the glass case gently. "When we finally claimed our own ship, it seemed fitting to name it after the sound of these five points - ATEEZ. Five letters, five points, five boys searching for what was lost."

Y/n’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. "The ship's name is an acronym?"

Hongjoong nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "Something between that and a code. The letters don't stand for anything specific - just the sound of five points working together. It was Wooyoung's idea. He said we needed something mysterious that would make other ships nervous when they heard it."

"It worked," y/n said with a soft laugh. "Even in Blackwell's household, servants whispered about the Black Ship with the strange name."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, both contemplating the simple compass design that had evolved into maritime legend.

"There's one more thing I want to show you," Hongjoong said, moving toward the far wall where a single shelf stood apart from the display cases.

Unlike the other collections, this area contained items that appeared unconnected to each other - a small shell, a ribbon, a button, a broken piece of colored glass, a dried flower preserved between thin sheets of transparent material.

"What are these?" Y/n asked, noting the careful arrangement despite their seeming randomness.

Hongjoong's expression shifted, vulnerability showing through his captain's composure. "These are... possibilities," he said quietly. "Items I found at various ports that might have been connected to you. A shell the right size for a child's hand. A ribbon that could have been from a girl's hair. Things with no concrete connection but that somehow felt important."

He touched the dried flower gently. "This was from a garden in Port Westerly where a girl matching your description had reportedly been seen. The lead proved false, but I kept the flower anyway. Another piece of the journey."

"I never stopped looking," Hongjoong said softly. "Even when logic suggested impossibility, when years passed without credible leads, when false hopes repeatedly materialized then vanished. Each of these represents a moment when I thought we might have found you."

Y/n reached out, her fingers hovering over the collection. "And now you have," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Now we have," he agreed, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that transcended captain's authority.

For a moment, they simply stood there, the physical distance between them seemingly irrelevant compared to the fifteen years that had separated them. Then, with a naturalness that belied the significance of the gesture, Hongjoong reached out and took her hand.

"I never gave up on finding you," Hongjoong said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. "Even when others suggested we might be chasing ghosts."

"I never stopped believing someone would remember," y/n admitted, returning the gentle pressure of his hand. "Even when Blackwell did everything possible to convince me I had been forgotten or abandoned by anyone who had ever shown me kindness."

"Treasure," Hongjoong said softly, the childhood nickname emerging without conscious thought.

Without conscious decision, y/n stepped closer, eliminating the remaining distance between them. Hongjoong's free hand moved to her cheek, fingertips feather-light against her skin.

"Is this okay?" he asked, the simple question containing layers of meaning.

"More than okay," she replied honestly.

When their lips met, the contact carried fifteen years of searching, hoping, and remembering. Unlike a desperate connection formed through temporary passion, this gentle kiss represented culmination beyond merely physical attraction.

Hongjoong's hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair with careful touch. Y/n leaned into the contact, her free hand finding anchor against his chest as the kiss deepened from tentative exploration to confident connection.

For several heartbeats, the Memory Room faded from awareness. Then, with mutual recognition, they gradually separated - not abrupt disconnection but gentle transition.

"I've been wanting to do that since you first walked into my quarters and called me 'Captain' without having any idea who I really was," Hongjoong admitted.

"I've been wanting to let you since I recognized your voice that first day in the auction house," y/n countered with a small smile. "Though I wouldn't have admitted it even to myself back then."

"What happens now?" Y/n asked after a moment.

"Whatever we decide together," Hongjoong replied, his hands still holding hers. "I meant what I said about your freedom being genuine. You determine your own course now, without obligation or expectation beyond your own choice."

"And if my course aligns with the ATEEZ?" Y/n asked. "If I choose to remain aboard this ship?"

"Then you would be welcomed as crew member rather than merely rescued captive," Hongjoong answered without hesitation. "Your skills and insights would represent significant asset beyond merely symbolic presence, your contributions valued for practical impact beyond merely personal connection."

"I'd like that," y/n admitted. "To be part of something meaningful beyond survival."

"Then consider yourself officially part of the ATEEZ crew," Hongjoong declared, captain's authority flowing beneath personal warmth. "Though specific role and responsibilities remain flexible pending further discussion."

"We should probably return to public areas before people notice our extended absence," Hongjoong suggested eventually. "The captain and newly revealed y/n disappearing together might create unnecessary speculation among a crew already processing remarkable developments."

"Always thinking about morale and operational efficiency," y/n observed with gentle teasing. "Even during pivotal personal moments."

"Occupational hazard of command responsibility," Hongjoong admitted with a small shrug. "Though I'm working on balancing tactical consideration with personal engagement despite fifteen years prioritizing mission above individual preference."

As they prepared to leave the Memory Room, Hongjoong's hand brushed y/n’s one final time - intentional contact flowing beyond accidental touch.

"We'll continue this conversation," he said quietly, personal warmth flowing beneath captain's natural authority. "When circumstances permit appropriate privacy."

"I'll hold you to that, Captain," y/n replied, matching his formal title with genuine warmth.

With mutual recognition established, they left the Memory Room together. As Hongjoong secured the door behind them, y/n found unexpected certainty settling within her consciousness.

After fifteen years believing herself forgotten or abandoned, she had discovered truth beyond memory or whispered ritual: five boys from The Crimson Serpent had never stopped searching for her, had transformed themselves into the most feared pirates on the seven seas specifically to fulfill a blood oath made during childhood failure.

The compass that had guided them all for fifteen years now pointed in a new direction, leading toward a future none could fully anticipate yet all would navigate together.

The feared Black Ship sailed onward through growing darkness, most notorious pirate vessel on the seven seas continuing mission transformed through reunion against impossible odds. Yet within that fearsome exterior, genuine connection flourished beyond tactical alliance or strategic association - real bonds forming despite unlikely circumstances, authentic relationships developing through shared purpose and mutual understanding.

Taglist: @hopeless-lovex0 @frankielou02 @jilxxasu @kur0kki @lezleeferguson-120 @uniquecloudbread @miniverse-zen @symmieangela @monstacheol @ateezswonderland @comicnerd557 @pixie0627 @fumaluvr @princesscallie @green-moon @starryjoong-jeongcheollie @wiccanmetallicrose @atinyapple1117 @sassy-snassy @soulphoenix1618 @wxnderingthoughts

72 notes · View notes

cherrykpawp · 3 days ago

Text

Heat // Ch 4

Rating: Explicit, Mature (M)

Pairings: Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, San x reader, Wooyoung x reader, Yeosang x reader, hinted San x Wooyoung, hinted Mingi x Yeosang, hinted San x Mingi, hinted Wooyoung x Yeosang, hinted San x Yeosang

This chapter includes: hybrids, Afab!reader, reader-centric, slow burn, fluff, angst, Dance instructor!Yunho, Owner!Yunho, Vet doctor!Hongjoong, Vocal professor!Jongho, Calico hybrid!reader, Black cat hybrid!San, Husky hybrid!Mingi

W.C: 7.4k

Something in the air felt different but you couldn’t pinpoint it. You felt normal, the day seemed normal, your breakfast was normal, San and Mingi were usually abnormal so in your terms, normal. But you weren’t focusing like you should’ve. Yunho invited his friend, a vocal professor to offer you lessons today since Yunho left to teach his dance classes this morning. The vocal professor stopped by about 10 minutes ago, setting up his equipment for you, but you were too sensitive to how bright it was outside and how loud the cars seemed outside. Someone’s car alarm kept blaring, aggravating you but it's not like you were going out there to stop it.

“Y/n-ssi, are you listening?”, Jongho waved a hand in front of your face, bringing you back to earth. Jongho’s just as handsome as everyone else you met so far, greeting you with a gummy smile. He wore a long sleek black jacket with leather collars and had a crest fixed on it; he was a well-known singer and songwriter. Underneath his coat, he had a black button-up, that had been tucked into his slacks. Although you couldn't see much about his body since he was modestly covered, you could tell he was strong by how he flexed his arm through the coat. It tightened around his bicep tastefully. He also had a visible beauty mark on his neck, and his hair was jet-black and fluffy.

“Yes, I’m sorry. That car noise is bothering me”, you massaged your temples, slapping your cheeks to focus. Your cat ears were in airplane mode the whole time you’ve been up, you just hadn’t noticed yet.

Jongho’s brows furrowed, perplexed, “car noise?”. He doesn’t hear it? It sounds like it's right out the door. “I always forget hybrids have heightened senses than the normal human”, he chuckled. Shortly after though the car’s blaring stopped. “Let me know if I should turn down the keyboard’s volume so it doesn’t hurt your ears”.

“No problem”, your head cocked to the side, fully focusing now. You both sat at the dining room table, a portable keyboard in front of Jongho. San and Mingi were in their rooms so they wouldn’t distract you, Jongho’s words, not yours.

Jongho played a measure of chords expertly on the keyboard, ensuring it worked. “Before we get started, tell me, what’s you’re favorite song to sing? Or favorite song overall?”. There were a million songs that came to mind, you couldn’t think of one right away. But you suddenly thought of your old owner, “Magnolia by Laufey”. Jongho formed an ‘o’ with his lips, interested. “What a lovely song. Do you mind singing a bit so I can hear your vocal range?”

You were nervous since he’s a music professor and probably way better than you, but he's here to teach and help you. Plus, it’s only the two of you there so you began singing the first note. He listened to you carefully, swaying his head side to side at the song, playing along. He let you sing the whole song, considering the song was pretty short. When you finished, you opened your eyes not realizing how entranced you were with the entire thing. He began clapping for you, making you smile.

“You have a beautiful vocal tone y/n, truly”, he complimented you first, “You are a mezzo-soprano so you suited this song perfectly”. You didn’t know what a mezzo-soprano was until he explained it to you; your voice is between a soprano and contralto, it’s a more common vocal tone.

“We’re going to do a couple of vocal techniques to bring your voice to its fullest potential. Whether you decide to make this a career or to sing occasionally, singing is a beautiful hobby. I’m biased myself”, Jongho commented, playing the first chord, “repeat after me”.

He hummed a scale for you to follow, which you did perfectly. He pressed a higher-pitched chord and hummed the same scale in a slightly higher register copying him. Jongho made you do those exercises several times before moving on to the next vocal technique. It was called a ‘Lip bubble technique’, almost like mimicking a car engine. It seemed silly to you at first but it was a genuine technique so you followed suit, doing the same scales in the same registers as before. Jongho taught you other techniques including relaxing your voice, posture, diction, holding your breath and hissing through your teeth, and vocal fry.

“When I’m not here, you can practice these techniques until our next lesson”, Jongho wrote down a list of things for you to do the whole time the lessons began. “We will be practicing a song that you want to get better at so that you, or we if you’re nervous, can perform in front of Yunho, San, and Mingi. Is there a song out there that you have difficulty singing?”.

“‘Is it a crime?’ by Sade. I have difficulty hitting her lower notes but I love that song a lot.”

“It may be because she's naturally a controlto but with enough skill and improvement, you can sing her song in your range. You don’t have to sound exactly like her, as long as the notes come off comfortably”, Jongho reassured you. “We’ll start with the first verse.” He listens as you sing the first two sentences, playing along to the song. You watch as he presses the same key about three times, “You're up here, go down an octave like this”, you listen as he effortlessly shows you an example. You haven’t heard him sing yet but if this is how he sounds from a scale, you

were more than impressed. But you attempted at it, not moving from it until Jongho approved for you to continue, “Great, keep that feeling when you're about to hit a lower register.”

Jongho helped you practice to at least the second chorus, stopping at times to help where you should fix certain parts. He had you repeat the verses and chorus’ until it sounded smoother than originally. He jotted down things in his notes and yours as reminders of techniques for certain sections. When you finished the second chorus about three different times, his timer went off, cursing at how time flew. He tore the paper off his notepad and gave it to you.

“Our lessons are done for today, unfortunately. These are the notes I've taken for you today that I’d like for you to practice for our next lesson two days from now. You have a gorgeous voice, don’t waste its potential”, Jongho praised you, giddy at the compliment. You watched as he gathered his stuff, curious about something.

“Jongho, I didn’t get to hear you sing today. I know time ran out but can I at least know what your favorite song is?”, you were eager to know, wanting to learn something about him before he left.

Jongho cleared his throat and began singing a lovely melody, a song you’ve never heard before. You sat in awe, mesmerized as he sang effortlessly, hand on his chest as he sang with such fervor. It’s almost like the song was made for him. You swayed in time with the lyrics, mouthing the words you memorized him singing in the previous chorus. When he finished, you stood and gave a standing ovation. He bowed in thanks, “It’s called Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You by George Benson. It’s one of the songs that helped me fall in love with music in the first place”.

“I can see why”, you were still in shock by how gorgeous his voice was, “I wish I could hear more of you but I know you’re busy so I can’t stop you”.

Jongho gave you a small smile, “After every lesson, I’ll sing any song of your choice if you’d like”. “I’d like that”, You replied, following him to the door to leave for his next lesson, “see you next time, Jongho”.

“Have a good rest of your day, y/n-ssi”, he waved his goodbyes as you locked the door behind him.

You were in a better mood now than this morning, humming what you’ve learned today from today's lesson. You strolled to the kitchen, preparing some fruit to snack on, chopping some pineapple and melon pieces. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, sometimes forgetting you had a phone at some point. You saw Yunho’s caller ID, pressing the answer button, “Helloo~”

“You sound like you’re in a good mood, did your vocal lessons go well?”, Yunho sounded like he was breathing heavily, he must’ve called as soon as he had a break.

“Mhm, Jongho is such a great singer. I can’t wait for our next time together, you know so many amazing people”, you put the chopped fruit in a bowl, eating whatever little was left along the rinds.

“I’m glad”, you could hear his smile, “Hongjoong hyung is coming over for follow-up soon. I should be there before he arrives, I decided to give you a heads-up in advance”.

You hadn’t seen Hongjoong in 2 weeks so you were glad to hear he was coming over, you missed him. “Thank you for the heads up. I will be prepared for him.”.

You heard the male chuckle on the other side of the line, “Great. I have to go now, take care of yourself now. See you later, lovely”.

“See you”, and with that, you hung up. You were gonna carry the bowl to the dining table to browse on YouTube but you saw the TV had a game playing on it. You walked towards the living room to see Mingi playing some random game, Super Smash Bros or whatever you call it. He wore glasses today, you saw him wearing glasses one other time a few days before. He should wear it more often you thought, Mingi also had on a brown sleeveless shirt that showed his toned biceps, and black sweatpants.

Mingi looked up at you with pointed ears, parting his lip for a piece of fruit. You gladly fed him a chunk of pineapple, watching as a drop of its juice dripped on his tongue before he ate it. You don’t know why it was so attractive to you. “Sweet”, he nonchalantly commented, pushing up his glasses with his middle finger. You stood beside him patiently, not moving after that. Mingi noticed, “Do you want to watch me play?”

“Mhm”, you bit your bottom lip, he scooted over for you to sit next to him as if there wasn’t enough space to go around. “Can I um..”

Mingi searched through the character selection, scanning over who to choose, “I’m listening”

“Can I sit…there?”, you shyly asked.

Mingi saw where you were referring to, pointing to the spot between his legs. His tail wagged, “Come, come”, he held his hand out for you to help you sit down. You sat crisscrossed between his legs, back leaning against his chest as you nuzzled into him. You still had the fruit bowl in your hand, munching on a piece of pineapple. He placed his chin on the top of your head, bringing his arms around you so that he could comfortably hold his controller. You never noticed his hands, they were huge, and he could cover the controller with one hand. Your eyes traced the veins on his forearms as his fingers expertly danced around the controller. You wanted your tail to wrap around it so badly but settled for tucking it around your waist, distracting yourself with another piece of fruit.

“Ah”, You felt Mingi’s mouth open again above you, his chin pressing against your scalp. You picked up a piece of melon and looked up as you brought it to his lips. You felt his tongue and mouth accidentally graze your fingers, “sorry”, he apologized with a full mouth of fruit.

“It’s okay…”, you mumbled, licking at your fingers where his tongue touched. He didn’t notice, too immersed in the game before him. His pheromones hit your nose from this angle, inhaling deeply, “You smell amazing Mingi”. You had the urge to turn around and just scent him fully but you restrained yourself, what is up with you today?

Mingi knitted his brows, “Thank you, darling. Are you feeling alright by the way?”, you were reveling in the nickname he gave you to respond, “Y/n?”

“Hm? Yeah I’m okay, heaven on earth right now. Why do you ask?”, staring at the bowl in your hands, there wasn’t much left in it.

“Well, you’re never this affectionate with me like this, especially since you’re always napping with San. You also never asked to sit in my lap before, I’m starting to wonder if I’m finally rubbing off on you”, he slyly smiled, and you smiled back.

You nuzzled further back into him, “I don’t know, I felt like opening up more. Should I move from your lap?”, you didn’t want him to say yes but you’d respect his answer either way.

Mingi paused the game, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “Are you kidding? I’m relishing this as much as I can”, Mingi said matter of factly. He poked his nose in the junction of your cat ears, trailing down to where your scent gland was to scent you briefly. However when he got there, your scent was a bit stronger than before, “you’re extra strawberry today”. His mouth salivated slightly as he inhaled your pheromones, you gave more access to your neck, almost submitting yourself to him.

Neither of you heard San come out of his room, looking at the situation before him. Mingi’s nose pressed against your neck as you willingly offered yourself up in between his legs. The fruit bowl you had long forgotten about. “Am I.. interrupting something?”, the black cat’s tail swung low, ears relaxed above his head as he watched with curious eyes.

Mingi removed himself from your neck, looking at his friend. Only San could see how dilated his pupils were before returning to normal, Mingi pushed up his glasses, “No..”, he fibbed. San definitely interrupted something, he just kept quiet. Mingi grabbed the controller again to resume his game, placing his chin back on your head.

You frowned, craning your neck to see San, your breath hitched slightly. He wore a gray tank top and sweatpants, displaying his biceps and pecs from how tight the shirt hugged his body. Your body raked all over him before meeting his eyes, innocently offering an eye smile. San went over to where you sat, kneeling. He put the back of his hand on your forehead, “slightly warm…”, his tail now swayed up behind him, his ears in airplane mode. “How are you today, sweetheart?”

“I’m great. Jongho taught me vocal techniques to improve my singing and now I’m just eating some fruit. You want one?”, you cutely offered a piece to him. He cooed at you, taking the chunk of pineapple in his mouth.

“No strawberries..huh?”, San casually brought up, looking at you and Mingi, back to you.

You shook your head, “There weren’t any”.

“Isn’t that too bad?”, it was more of a statement than a question, he looked at the time on his phone, “Yunho should be back in an hour or so. Do you need anything y/n?”

You shook your head again, tapping your thigh, “Come lay down, join us”. San couldn’t argue with that, one of his favorite activities is lying down anyways. He went to the right of you, lying back to place his head on your thigh, looking up at you, “Hi..”

“Hi..”, he softly greeted back, smiling up at you. You had bit into a piece of melon, “is there any more”, San asked, fluffing his hair.

You looked at the bowl, “No”. San shrugged but you offered the piece that you bit into. His eyes shifted from the fruit to you, never breaking eye contact as he took it in his mouth. You placed the empty bowl on the floor next to Mingi’s legs, the husky hybrid still locked into the game he was playing. San looked so….handsome from his angle, you saw his ears twitch from Mingi’s sudden outburst but he didn’t seem to care. As if it had a mind of its own, your hand reached up to his hair, carding your fingers through it. His eyes closed as you did it again, letting your nails caress his scalp. You switched from tracing the outline of his ears to running your fingers through his locs, feeling his start to purr against your leg, you’re sure Mingi sensed it too.

When you pulled away San’s eyes fluttered open, he reached for your hand, and placed it back where it was, “Continue please”. You obliged, keeping your hand in his hair, twirling his hair around your fingers. His eyes shut again, melting against your touch. You gave an experimental tug on it, eliciting a small groan from him, sending an electric shock through your body. You didn’t do it again, not wanting to ruin what’s supposed to be an innocent gesture.

You felt Mingi’s hand rest on your knee, tracing patterns as he waited for his game to load. He decided to play a different game from Super Smash Bros and went to an entirely different console. Some cutesy game called ‘Fall Guys”, for a game this cute, it seems to frustrate the hell out of the boys. But they still insisted on playing it. San heard the game's music and shot up, grabbing a controller to join. A fleeting sorrow at the sudden loss of touch until you felt San’s tail wrap around your free arm while Mingi’s arms wrapped around you again, holding the controller with his hands. You felt perfect, surrounded by your favorite scents and two caring people who made sure your comfort came first.

Yunho sat with you at the dining table, eating an early lunch while you waited for Hongjoong to come, eating a small cucumber sandwich. You weren’t hungry but you craved his company. You had your tail wrapped around Yunho’s arm bringing your chair closer to him. From the moment he entered the house, you were glued to him, embracing him in a tight hug. Even when he went to go shower, you waited outside his room door until he came out. You watched as he prepared and cut up the cucumber for the sandwiches he made for himself, purring more acutely than usual. Yunho thought you were being more cutesy on purpose but he felt something was wrong. San took his daily nap on the couch after losing to Mingi several times on ‘Fall Guys’ while Mingi browsed his phone, San’s head on his lap as he snoozed.

The doorbell rang twice, you stood up to answer it, “Hello Hongjoong”, you greeted him with a hug, the older male didn’t seem startled at all and instead embraced you back.

“Hi, hun. You look much healthier and happier than the last time I saw you. Did you believe me when I said you were in good hands?”, you inclined your head in agreement, leading him to the dining area where Yunho got up from, “Great job in following the dietary list that I gave you for miss y/n. Was there any trouble? Did she struggle in the transition to solids?”, Hongjoong questioned, hanging his coat up and taking his shoes off.

“Not at all. She was determined to eat her favorite foods again, willing to wait however long it would’ve taken”, Yunho idolized your endurance.

“That’s great to hear”, Hongjoong held on to his case, “Shall we begin?”. Yunho pulled out a seat from the dining table for you and Hongjoong, deciding to sit on the opposite side of the table. Hongjoong positioned his case on the dining table, he had less than before, “don’t worry, there are no needles today. Just a physical check-up and follow-up plan from here”, he reassured you. “How are you feeling today y/n?”

“Extremely good right now”, you wore a cutesy expression. Hongjoong jotted down your tail wrapping around your waist and ears pointed up.

“Oh really? Did something happen today?”, he engaged in the conversation, examining how you behaved. You retold the same story for the third time today about your vocal lessons with Jongho, and that you hung out with San and Mingi afterwards. “Mmm, Jongho-ssi. Glad to hear he’s doing well”, he continued writing on his notepad, “did anything happen between you, San, and Mingi?”

You cocked your head to the side, “No, we just cuddled and ate some fruit. I watched them play games mostly”, telling the truth.

“Good”, Hongjoong put his notepad down, pulling out gloves to wear. “I’m going to perform the usual check-up procedures before doing the physical, okay?”. The doctor put a thermometer under your tongue, clamped an oximeter on your finger, and attached the portable blood pressure kit to your arm. You sat like a statue, following the protocol for him. He removed the thermometer from your mouth and furrowed his brows, mentally remembering the number before removing the oximeter, and finally releasing the pressure from the kit. “Your temperature is higher than it should be. Do you not feel hot?”

“I mean, I do feel warmer. I just thought the thermostat was lower.”, an epiphany slowly came to you.

Hongjoong put on his stethoscope, instructing you to take deep breaths. Although you were listening to him, your heart began racing a million beats a second, “Y/n relax a little. All I hear is that healthy heart of yours”, his compliment soothed you a bit but wasn’t enough. Yunho started worrying as Hongjoong looked at the living room area, “Do one of you mind coming over here?”. San, who had woken from his nap after the doorbell went off, showed up by your side, “let her scent you for a little bit. She worked herself up just now”.

San put your face in his neck, rubbing your back, “My sweet y/n, I had a feeling..”. You didn’t know what he meant by that, busy inhaling his caramel and sandalwood aroma. He stayed there for a minute or two until you started purring. When he moved away, you slumped slightly in your seat, your tail swaying behind you.

Hongjoong took the opportunity to touch your ears, getting a reaction out of you before reaching for your tail, eliciting the same response from you. The last thing he did before putting his stethoscope away was press the back of his hand on your forehead, drawing his conclusion.

“Y/n’s blood pressure is fine, and so are her lungs and oxygen. However, her internal and external temperature are higher than it should be. She’s in preheat”, hearing that made your world stop, remembering that it was supposed to be excruciating. You thought you’d be fine for at least another week.

“That explains how she was acting earlier”, You heard Mingi’s voice from behind Yunho, not exactly looking in that direction.

“How was she acting?”, Yunho asked worryingly. “More affectionate than usual, wanting to sit in my lap, scenting San and me more than usual. Holding onto Yunho hyung from the second he came home. She hasn’t been this openly affectionate before”, Mingi listed everything that happened, “her scent is also more potent…I should’ve noticed. I just thought she was in a great mood”.

Hongjoong hummed, packing his things away. “Since it seems like it may be coming tomorrow, have you considered any of the heat hot-”

“I don’t want to go to a heat hotel”, there was venom in your words, not necessarily mad at anyone. More or so annoyed with the fact that you didn’t realize your preheat symptoms.

“Okay then”, Hongjoong respected your opinion, “did you get any toys y/n?”. You nodded, wrapping your tail around your arm, Hongjoong mentally noted that as well. “How do you plan on managing it?”.

“San and Mingi will help me…”, you stated shyly, “..and Yunho if he’d like to?”, looking up at the blonde male. This was no time to be flustered as the situation became serious to him.

“Yunho, you are given the proposal to assist y/n through her heat. Will you help her?”, Hongjoong asked his best friend.

“If that’s what she wants, then of course”, he smiled down at you. From the day he found you, he vowed to help and protect you from anything. Since you need help with your heat, who is he to deny you?

Hongjoong closed his case, handing Yunho a list. “Just to inform you on a couple of things; heats last a long time as you know from owning two hybrids already. This means that y/n’s stamina will last longer. Most heats are 4-5 days but considering her condition, it could last a week or a little over a week, even though I’m not sure how long because cases like this are rare. If your stamina runs out, San and Mingi can take care of it from there unless she asks for you at any point. If she wants toys, use toys, if she doesn’t, don’t. It’s all about what she wants at the end of the day”, Yunho listened intently, and so were the hybrids who felt like they were all around you.

“The best way to satiate her heat is by releasing inside. She has an IUD so there’s no need to worry about anything. The list here includes some things to pick up at the grocery to not only help y/n stay active and hydrated but also for you and the boys. Have one of them go with you to find items they like and that is beneficial. I cannot stress this enough but please, stack up on electrolytes and water. Anything that includes electrolytes for her to eat as well will help. She will be in a subspace, yes she will be here but it’s most likely going to be brain fog”, Hongjoong, who looked at you with soft eyes, concerned about the pain you’ll be in, “do you consent to everything y/n and do you give your consent? I’m afraid it’ll be harder for you in a few days. I just want to hear it from you first.”

“Yes”, you gave full consent to everyone in the room. You trusted them with your life.

“Then it’s settled”, Hongjoong looked down at his watch, “the store I wrote down closes in about two hours, I advise you to get going”.

“Mingi, come with me”, Yunho tapped his arm, hurriedly gathering warmer clothes to put on since it was still technically winter.

Hongjoong pat your head, “Take care and have a safe heat hun. I’ll see you when it’s over.”, Hongjoong was the first to leave. Soon after, Yunho and Mingi rushed out, promising to return as quickly as they could.

You were left with San whose hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry. You’ll be alright”. San gently helped you stand up, leading you back to the living room couch to cuddle. He purposefully put you on the side of his scent gland, emitting more of his pheromones out to comfort you. “What would you like to watch?”

Yunho and Mingi were scrambling around the store, Yunho pushed the cart around as his eyes scanned the list, They had more than enough cases of water, electrolyte drinks, and packets, now it was more or so about food to cook and fruit. They were by the vegetable section, collecting cucumbers, potatoes, tomatoes, spinach, literally anything that contained a lick of electrolytes.

“What do you like to eat during your ruts?”, Yunho questioned Mingi, moving over to the fruits section.

Mingi wore a playful smile, tail wagging, “Whoever I’m spending my rut with”, earning a displeased look from Yunho and met with silence. “...Mixed nuts”. “I agree, I think you should go get that”, Yunho put some watermelons, bananas, oranges, and strawberries in the basket. Mingi temporarily left to grab his favorite brand of trail mix, leaving Yunho in his thoughts.

Yunho was concerned about whether he’d do a good job pleasing you during your heat. He felt like his stamina was stable since he’s a dancer, he’s in the dance room several hours a day. He’s had sex before, it just wasn’t with a hybrid, he doesn‘t know how it’ll go. To say he’s nervous is an understatement. Mingi had returned with a huge container of mixed nuts and tubs of yogurt. “In case y/n wants to switch it up and mix it”, Mingi carefully placed everything in.

“Good job, Mingi-ah”, Yunho praised Mingi, making his ears poke up. “Now we just need to get ingredients for meal preps because it doesn’t seem we’ll have time to cook constantly. We need meats, fish, pasta, rice..”, the older was mainly talking to himself but Mingi listened, trailing behind him. He sensed that Yunho was nervous, and rubbed his back.

“It’ll be fine”, Mingi reassured him, easing the weight off Yunho’s shoulders. “We should also get ice cream and chocolates”.

Yunho tilted his head, “I told you we need to follow the list, we can’t think of indulgences.”

“Hyung, it’s not for me…Well, a little bit but it’s mainly for y/n. Ice cream offers a cooling sensation and chocolate because it has mild aphrodisiac properties. Plus, both have mood-boosting effects”, Mingi stated simply.

Yunho couldn’t help but agree, relating, “How do you know all of this?”.

“Well, when you’ve been to enough heat hotels as I’ve been to, you learn from different partners. I’ve also learned what Yeosangie, Wooyoungie, and Sannie liked after helping them with theirs”, Mingi got distracted looking at some new limited edition snack that got released, adding it to the cart. Yunho didn’t mind it.

“Don’t you ever feel like the sex is not genuine because of heats or ruts?”

Mingi pondered, “Sometimes. Only because we’re all trying to get our heat sated. Sometimes we say things to each other that we eventually don’t mean afterward. Sometimes we mean it but never see that hybrid again. But because it’s all brain fog at the end of the day, our bodies are too busy reacting more than we are. The ones that suck the most are the ones y/n described when we first met her. The types of heats where it seems like the other party is just being plain selfish, not caring if the other finishes, or doesn’t like offering aftercare. I’ve had some instances like that, once I noticed, I just reciprocated the same energy and kept it pushing.”

Yunho felt remorseful, “I’m sorry to hear that. I shouldn’t have put you or San in heat hotels”.

Mingi brushed it off, “there’s no need to apologize. We wanted to go because it was the most effective option available for you. Plus, you were able to provide a better variety of heat hotels than some out there. I don’t know which hotel y/n went to but if her experience had been that bad to where she doesn’t want to go to any, I’d love to help her”.

Yunho’s proud of both Mingi and San. They were the most considerate hybrids he had met, always thinking of others first besides themselves. “You know Mingi, you’re so much more mature than most people out there. I may not express it a lot but..I do love you and San, sincerely.”

Mingi blushed, balling his fist and softly hitting Yunho’s arm, “You know I love you more”. Yunho chuckled, petting the top of his head, only for Mingi to grab his hand and kiss the back. “Hyung, I’m not going to lie. Not to ruin the mood but the store closes in 30 minutes..”

Yunho and Mingi arrived about an hour ago preparing everything in the kitchen for meal prepping, watching some recipes to incorporate for the next week. Since they had to prepare meals for four people, there was lots of work to do.

San swapped places with Mingi in the kitchen this time, cutting up the fruits and vegetables, some for cooking and some to have later meanwhile Yunho cooked the mains like meats, fish, rice, pasta, etc. The aroma around the house entices you. Mingi replaced San after coming home mainly because San is better at cooking and because Mingi just came from outside. You laid on top of him on the couch, face buried in his neck. As the night approached, the warmer you were getting. You weren’t burning up as if your heat broke but it's definitely different than this morning.

Mingi caressed your hair, arms holding you close to him. “Nervous?

You sighed against his neck, “Very. I just don’t know how painful it will be. I thought the last one 4 months ago was the worst.”. Mingi’s chest vibrated as he hummed.

“We’ll be here for you and do our best to make sure it’s not too bad”, he pecked the top of your head. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

You shook your head, “Just stay here”, your arms tightened around him, tail wrapping around his leg. Mingi chuckled at how precious you were being. He could get used to this.

A yelp emitted from the kitchen, startled you a bit. Yunho hissed a ‘fuck’, “he’s fine guys, just accidentally burned himself”, San announced. You let out a breathy laugh, he's so clumsy.

Mingi giggled in response to you. Soon after, the sizzling from the kitchen continued. “..Do you know who you want to spend your first day with?”, tracing shapes on your back.

“Whoever is closest to me when it breaks. I’m not picky”, the smell of the food made your stomach rumble. Mingi felt it.

“Sannie”, he yelled from under you, San responding with a ‘yeah?’, “Do we have any more of those small sandwiches? Our y/n is hungry”. You shook your head at him, he didn’t have to do that but you appreciated it.

Two minutes passed before San came with a tray. It had a plate of sandwiches and two glasses on water, placing it on the living room table. He kneeled down to you, rubbing your shoulder, “hyung is also making us dinner tonight aside from the meals for the week. It should be ready in an hour. These should suffice in the meantime”.

“Thank you”, San gave you a small peck on your shoulder, leaving to continue cooking. You pushed yourself up using Mingi’s chest, sitting on him. His hands were on your waist so wouldn’t fall over. You reached for a tea sandwich consisting of lunch meat, cheese, and lettuce, biting into it. Mingi was too busy studying you, “aren’t you going to eat?”

Mingi shook his head, “Watching you eat is enough for me”. You couldn’t take that for an answer, offering the sandwich you took a bite off in front of his lips. He took it in his mouth, thanking you. He allowed you to finish the other two sandwiches San brought, nibbling whatever you offered to him. You didn’t drink all the water because you felt bad sitting on him for so long, not that he minded. You placed a straw in your cup, gesturing for him to drink, you observed him wrap his plush lips around the plastic as his Adam's apple bobbed.

“Has anyone ever told you that your lips were alluring?”, you placed the cup on the tray, ears flicking at the clink it made.

Mingi nodded, “All the time. Wooyoung likes to tell me that a lot. Threatens to chew them off sometimes”, you giggled at the idea of Wooyoung chewing his lips off. “Come”, Mingi brought you back down, this time his nose was in your scent gland, “your pheromones are addicting, I’m sorry”.

You held his head as you laid against him, “I’m glad”.

The two of you stayed like that, waiting for everything to finish. San and Yunho plated tonight’s dinner, setting the dining table after having already put the meal preps away. “Food’s ready”. Yunho grabbed the drinks from the counter and placed them next to the plates as San brought the silverware.

Mingi wrapped your arms around his neck, sitting up to lock your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the table. He sat you on your usual seat, next to Yunho before taking his seat across from you. Yours and Mingi’s tails swayed in content, having scented each other to the fullest. The older males took their respective seats, “thank you for cooking hyungs.”, you also thanked them for cooking.

“You two seemed like you had a great time on the couch”, San sipped his drink, noting how messy Mingi’s hair appeared. He acted coy, pushing his glasses up. It’s not like the two of you did anything crazy, but with how you two looked, it gave off that impression.

“Y/n smells too good, I can’t help it”, Mingi nibbled at the Chicken Alfredo they made, eyes gleaming, “you guys made this?!”

Yunho mixed his food around, “You sound surprised”.

“I am. The last time you cooked something...it wasn’t distinguishable”, Mingi grimaced at the thought of his rosé risotto he attempted months back.

Yunho pouted, Mingi had a point so he couldn’t counter back. You ate some of it, making an ‘angry’ face towards it. “It’s delightful”. Yunho petted your head as he indulged in the food himself.

Dinner was quiet besides the occasional clinks of utensils against the glass plates. You were brooding over what tomorrow would bring, your tail wrapped around your arm, reconciling with yourself about it. San peeped at it but decided not to speak, he understood what you were feeling. Mingi was the first to finish, stretching and yawning. It was unlike his usual eating habits but he said he was more than full. He took his dinnerware to the dishwasher first, too lazy to clean it right now. Mingi mentioned washing up first, wishing everyone a good night before leaving for his room. San was second to finish up, excusing himself to his room soon after, which left you and Yunho to yourselves.

You were pretty full, messing with what was left of dinner. Could be from the sandwiches you got earlier, could be because your stomach had butterflies. Yunho had already finished, watching you as you were distracted, “You can save it for later. You don’t have to finish it.”. You glanced at him briefly, finally getting up to put it away.

Yunho beat you to it though, grabbing your plate and his, “I can wash my own stuff, you know”, you chuckled.

“I know”, Yunho walked to the kitchen, gladly putting your leftovers in the fridge. “Go wash up and rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”.

The morning…you wish it stay tonight for a while but maybe a shower would help you get your mind off things.

You excused yourself upstairs to your room, preparing a change of clothes to put on after you were done. You picked out a matching cotton set of underwear, and silk midnight blue pajama set with shorts, placing it on your bed. Satisfied with your selection, you headed to the bathroom, seeing Yunho leaving it. He didn’t see you leave your room, swiftly entering his. You realized you had never seen anyone’s room yet, wondering what it looked like.

Nonetheless, you readied the hot shower, removing your clothes to hop in. The water hit you instantly and your body melted into it. You washed your hair with the shampoo and conditioner Yunho provided, liking the vanilla scent more than you thought. When you scratched your scalp, your hands brushed over your ears, eliciting a small moan. It’s ridiculous how sensitive your ears and tail get when in preheat. During heat, it helps in the bedroom but when you just want to do simple tasks as such, it's burdensome. You eventually washed the suds out, cleaning your body next. That task was at least easier, taking your time to go around your neck, under your arms, and your legs, taking the opportunity to get under your nails. Self-care is more than important right now because you can guarantee that in the upcoming days, you won’t feel the luxury of being this clean. The shower took about 20 minutes, most of that time being you scrubbing yourself while daydreaming about anything.

Turning off the water, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your body, you felt squeaky clean. Your hair smelt fragrant, your body felt new, and your skin looked flawless, making you ready to conquer tomorrow. With that attitude, you blow-dried your hair and brushed your teeth before looking down the hallway for signs of anybody. When the coast was clear, you tip-toed to your room, removing your towel, and placing it in your laundry hamper. Before you put on your pajamas, you take the time to lotion your body and moisturize your face for extra self-care, wanting to drown in the essence of vanilla. You gazed at yourself in the mirror, putting on your bra and panties, admiring how they looked on you, and eventually putting on the pajamas afterward. Now that everything was done, all you had to do was sleep…but you didn’t want to sleep in your own bed tonight.

You left your room again, making your way two doors down to Yunho’s room. You put your ear against it to hear if he was doing anything, but you heard nothing. You knocked on his door, deciding it was better than walking in. After a moment of silence, you thought he was asleep. You almost walked away until Yunho swung the door open, looking down at you.

“Hey darling, is something wrong?”, he appeared as if he was about to go to bed honestly, changing into a completely different outfit; a black tee and shorts. You don’t think you’ve seen his legs until now, they were very toned.

“No..”, you played with the hem of your shirt, tail wrapped around your arm, “but I do have a question”, Yunho leaned against the door frame, waiting for you to ask, “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Yunho didn’t know that’s the question you were going to ask. He moved out of the way, gesturing his arm toward the inside of the room, “As you wish”.

The interior was better than you expected. The first thing you noticed was his PC set up, he had two monitors and some decorations on the desk. His walls were a blueish gray, adorned with artwork, his nightstand had magazines with him on it, showing off his greatest achievements, and a lovely plant on the window sill. His bed was also queen-sized, with a gray blanket and pillows but white sheets.

The side of the bed that looked untouched was the side you chose, pulling the sheets over your legs as you patiently waited for him to head over to his side. The nightstand lamp was still lit, he turned off the main lights before heading over. “Thank you for allowing me in your room. I wanted to ask the first night I stayed but didn’t want to push any boundaries”.

Yunho sat on his side of the bed, “is that so? You could’ve asked”, you shrugged, that was already 2 weeks ago. “If you ever feel like sleeping here in the future, you could let me know”. He pulled the sheets up over his legs, you were already lying down with your back facing him in a fetal position. He chuckled, turning the nightstand light off. “Goodnight y/n”

You felt him shift behind you, back away from you as well. Except you weren’t fully content. “Yunho?”

“Hm?”

“Can you hold me too?”

You felt the bed shift again, his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your back touched his chest, feeling his knees slightly under yours, “better?”

You nuzzled even closer to him, making him hold you tighter, finally feeling like this is where you needed to be. “Yes”.

“Good”, you felt his breath against your head, feeling warm again.

“Goodnight Yunho”, was the last thing you said before drifting off into a deep rest.

Tomorrow would be unforgiving and unrelenting to your sleep.