summary: she was a one night stand until he saved her life now they’re bound for eternity
warning: dom yunho, sub reader, oral, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, spitting, choking, squirting, breeding, creampie, mentions of death
genre: dark romance, supernatural
pairing: prince of hell yunho x afab human reader
word count: 6.1k
chp 2 coming soon
masterlist
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The apartment door practically slammed open. The hinges creaking loudly in the old exterior as rain poured outside and thunderous booms echoed as flashes of lightning decorated the sky. It was as if mother nature herself was lashing out at what was happening.
“Fuck…” His lips moved to her neck as tossed his jacket off and lifted her, pinning her to the wall. “I need to taste you.” Normally, Yunho wouldn’t beg. Being a 400 year old demon prince, he’s used to getting what he wanted but something about her…. he’d drop to his knees if he had to. “No one is stopping you.” She smirked and a deep, primal growl rumbled from Yunho’s chest the second those words left her lips and his grip on her thighs tightened, fingers digging into her thighs as he pulled her harder against him. “Where’s your bedroom?” he demanded, voice low and rough like gravel dragged over silk.
“Down the hall… across from the bathroom,” she breathed, barely finishing before he was already moving. He carried her like she weighed nothing, long strides eating up the distance while she stayed pressed to his chest and her legs locked around his waist. The door to her bedroom swung open with a kick and he dropped her onto the mattress and started following her down immediately to claim her mouth again in a bruising kiss as his hands worked fast but deliberately to yank the ripped jean shorts down her legs and tossing them aside before he peeled the black tank top she had on upward, exposing smooth skin inch by inch. The bra came next, unclasped with a flick of his fingers, not that she could see that, and dragged it down her arms.
Yunho didn’t rush the reveal. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, kissing the swell of each one before his tongue dragged slow, wet circles around her nipples. He sucked one between his lips, teeth grazing just enough to make her arch, then switched to the other, nipping and leaving faint red marks that would darken later as his hands slid under her, lifting her body higher up the bed until her head rested against the pillows. “Ride me,” he growled, the command vibrating through the air between them and in one swift motion he hooked his fingers into her panties and stripped them off before dragging her forward until her thighs straddled his face.
He held her there with an iron grip on her hips, mouth opening wide to devour her pussy. His tongue thrust deep inside her without warning, fucking into her with wet, obscene sounds while he growled against her. “Fuck, this pussy… best I’ve ever tasted,” he rasped between licks, the words carrying centuries of experience she couldn’t possibly understand. He sucked her clit, tongue flicking rapidly until her thighs shook and she came hard on his face but Yunho didn’t let her lift off. He kept her pinned, licking every drop clean with long, slow strokes until she whimpered from oversensitivity. Only then did he release her, pulling her down his body while his mouth trailed kisses across her stomach and sides.
He sat up just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, then shoved his pants and underwear down, kicking his shoes off in the process and let her look. Her eyes dropped immediately to his dick, thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip. It twitched under her gaze, veins prominent along the length. She reached for him without thinking, sliding off the bed to kneel between his legs, reaching and wrapping her hand around the base, stroking upward in a slow glide before her tongue followed the same path, licking from balls to tip with deliberate patience.
She barely had time to open her mouth before Yunho’s hand caught her jaw. “Open,” he ordered and she obeyed, watching as he leaned down and spat directly onto her tongue and watching her swallow the offering before he released her and she dove back in, lips stretching around his dick as she took him deeper, pulling off only to drag her tongue over his balls, sucking one gently before returning to fuck her own mouth on him. Spit ran down her chin, the wet sounds filling the room along with his low groans but just as his breathing grew ragged, Yunho pulled her off by the hair.
He dragged her back onto the bed, kissing her hard while his hand slipped between her legs. One finger pushed inside her soaked pussy, curling against her walls. “So fucking wet… all for me.” He pulled his finger free and held it up between them and she leaned in without hesitation, sucking it clean making Yunho’s grin sharpen. “Good girl.” She kissed him again, desperate now. “I need you inside me.” Another growl tore from his throat before he flipped her onto her stomach, one hand running down the length of her spine before gripping her ass hard enough to leave prints.
His dick slid between her cheeks, dragging slowly, then lower to tease her clit with the head. Then without further warning he thrusted in deep in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt making her cry out, fingers clawing at the sheets as her walls stretched around him, clenching tight as Yunho moaned low, hips already rolling. “Fucking made for me,” he hissed, starting slow and deep before gradually increasing the pace. Her begging came soon after, broken pleas, “harder….. please…. faster…” and he gave it to her, pounding into her with bruising force, the bed frame slamming against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.
One hand fisted in her hair, yanking her upright against his chest and he held her there, fucking up into her relentlessly while his free hand slid around to rub her clit. The orgasm hit her hard making her shake violently, screaming as she squirted around him. But once again Yunho didn’t stop. He kept driving into her through the aftershocks until a second rushed climax tore through her, leaving her limp and gasping. He eased her down onto the mattress, pulling out only to flip her onto her back, eyes raking over her flushed body, settling on her soaked pussy. His thumb brushed gently over her swollen clit. “Can you still keep going?”
Breathless, she met his gaze. “If you don’t get back inside me and come… you can go to hell.” Yunho’s grin widened, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. She had no idea how literal that statement was. He spread her thighs wide, tapping his dick against her sensitive clit a few times. “Knock knock,” he teased, voice dripping with heat before he sank back inside her in one long thrust and her legs wrapped around his waist instantly, pulling him deeper.
He moved slower at first, savoring the tight heat of her and the way her walls clenched him, one hand sliding up to wrap around her throat and her own hands followed, gripping his wrist as he began pounding into her again. She squirted again, the wet gush soaking his him and the sheets beneath them making Yunho groan in approval, hips never faltering. “I’m gonna have to have you again… and again… and again… fuck…” He was pussy drunk, completely addicted to the way she clenched around him, to every sound she made. How she begged him to come inside her, voice hoarse and desperate making Yunho tighten his fingers just slightly around her throat. “Yeah? You want me to breed you? Ruin you for anyone else?”
He released her neck and folded her legs back into a deep mating press, folding her nearly in half. The new angle let him drive even deeper, pounding into her with brutal precision and all she could do was whimper his name, overwhelmed and crying from the intensity as her final orgasm crashed through her just as Yunho buried himself to the hilt and came hard, flooding her with him and stayed locked inside her through every pulse, grinding deep until he was empty.
When he finally collapsed beside her, both of them were breathless, bodies slick with sweat as she curled into his chest without thinking and he pulled her closer, already feeling the hunger stir again despite the exhaustion. They were ruined completely, thoroughly and already wanting more.
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Monday arrived wrapped in a deceptively perfect California afternoon. The storm that had rattled Los Angeles for two nights and had vanished without a trace, leaving behind endless blue skies and sunlight that bounced off the glass towers downtown. Traffic crawled below in its usual symphony of impatient horns, helicopters drifting lazily overhead chasing whatever celebrity scandal had become today’s headline, and somewhere down on Sunset Boulevard, people carried on as though the world had never stopped spinning.
From the floor to ceiling windows of a luxury penthouse overlooking the city, Yunho watched it all in silence. He’d owned the apartment for nearly seventy years. Before that, it had belonged to another building entirely. Before that, there had been nothing but empty hills. He’d watched Los Angeles grow upward one decade at a time until the skyline barely resembled the city he’d first wandered into centuries ago.
His fingers rested loosely around a crystal glass filled with whiskey, though he’d barely touched it. The amber liquid caught the afternoon light as he leaned one shoulder against the window, silver hair falling across his forehead. He looked every bit the successful businessman any human would expect to find living in a place like this. Only the faint pulse of infernal magic humming beneath his skin betrayed what he truly was.
His thoughts, much to his irritation, had wandered somewhere else entirely however. A tiny apartment. Rain hammering against old windows. A woman with absolutely no sense of self preservation. He could still hear her voice after she’d told him to go to hell if he didn’t get back inside her and the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself. “Ironic,” he muttered beneath his breath. Four hundred years. Thousands of faces. Kings. Queens. Artists. Warriors. Lovers whose names had long since been forgotten by history. Yet somehow… the woman who worked nights at a club in Los Angeles had managed to occupy more of his thoughts in forty eight hours than most people had in decades.
Ridiculous.
He pushed away from the window, draining the rest of the whiskey before setting the glass on the marble counter. He should’ve gone back already. There wasn’t any reason to remain on Earth. Not really…….
a familiar ripple rolled through the room, invisible to any human eye as the air bent inward as though reality itself had exhaled. Yunho didn’t bother turning around. Instead he sighed. “Let me guess…” he said dryly. “Dad thinks I’ve been up here too long again?”
A soft chuckle answered him. “You always know it’s me.”
Yunho finally looked over his shoulder to the demon standing in the middle of the penthouse as though he’d always belonged there. Seonghwa. Unlike Yunho, Seonghwa made no effort to pretend humanity fascinated him. Everything about him carried quiet refinement. His black coat fell perfectly over tailored clothes, not a wrinkle to be found, and his posture remained impossibly straight. There was an ageless elegance to him, the kind earned only after centuries of existing. Six hundred years had sanded away any impulsiveness he might’ve once possessed, leaving behind someone whose calm could make even the oldest demons uncomfortable. He was one of the few beings Lucifer trusted without reservation. Which, in Hell, was saying something.
Yunho folded his arms across his chest. “So?”
“So…” Seonghwa replied with the ghost of a smile, “Lucifer doesn’t particularly care how long you’ve been on Earth.”
“He doesn’t?”
“No.”
“Huh.”
“He does, however, require your assistance.”
“There it is.”
Seonghwa ignored the comment with practiced ease. “There’s a man in Laguna Beach.” Yunho groaned before Seonghwa had even finished. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I literally know what you’re about to say.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“He wants fame.”
“He does.”
“He thinks selling his soul is easier than developing talent.”
“He does.”
Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate these.” Seonghwa’s lips threatened another smile. “I know.”
“They’re always the same.”
“They usually are.”
“They never ask for something interesting.”
Seonghwa tilted his head slightly. “What would you consider interesting?” Yunho walked toward the kitchen, opening the refrigerator more out of habit than necessity before closing it again. “I don’t know. World peace. The cure for cancer. Maybe someone wants to become the greatest violinist in history.”
“And instead?”
“They want followers.”
“Millions of them.”
“They want money.”
“Lots of it.”
“They want everyone to love them.”
“And nobody ever specifies why.”
Seonghwa gave a single approving nod. “You’ve conducted enough bargains.”
“I’ve conducted too many.” Silence settled between them for a moment before Yunho glanced toward the skyline again. “What’s his name?” Seonghwa reached into the inner pocket of his coat and withdrew a small leather bound book. Not paper. Human skin. The pages turned on their own before stopping halfway through and he glanced down briefly. “Ethan Holloway.” Yunho sighed as Seonghwa started reading. “Twenty seven. Aspiring musician. Convinced social media algorithms are personally conspiring against him.” Yunho looked at him flatly. “You’re making that last part up.”
“I wish I were.”
A reluctant laugh escaped Yunho before he shook his head. “And what exactly does his infernal majesty need from me? Surely someone this… uninspired could be handled by a lesser collector.”
“He requested you.”
That made Yunho pause. “He… requested me?”
“He specifically asked for the Prince of Hell.”
Now that was unusual. Humans almost never knew enough to make requests like that. Yunho’s expression sharpened ever so slightly. “Why?” Seonghwa closed the ledger. “Because he believes the Devil’s son grants better bargains. And because the internet has become… surprisingly creative.”
Yunho stared at him. “You’re telling me conspiracy forums have reached Hell.”
“They’ve reached everyone.”
For the first time that afternoon, genuine amusement lit Yunho’s face. “That’s unfortunate.”
“It truly is.”
Yunho slipped on a black jacket draped over the back of a chair, adjusting the cuffs with practiced ease. “Fine.” His keys disappeared into his pocket. “I’ll meet our future celebrity.” Seonghwa gave a single nod before adding, almost casually, “And afterward…”
“Hm?”
“Lucifer would like you to return home.”
Yunho hesitated only briefly before looking toward the glittering city stretched beneath the afternoon sun. Something in his chest resisted the idea. He couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t duty keeping him here. It wasn’t curiosity. At least… that’s what he kept telling himself as his gaze drifted, unbidden, toward the neighborhood where one very ordinary woman would probably be getting ready for another shift at the club in a few hours and frowned. “Yeah,” he murmured quietly, more to himself than Seonghwa. “Afterward.”
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Lunch with Tiffany was never cheap. That was the first thought that crossed Y/N’s mind as she stepped out onto the rooftop terrace overlooking downtown Los Angeles, one hand shielding her eyes from the bright October sun while the hostess led them toward a table near the glass railing. Six months ago, she’d have talked Tiffany out of it entirely. Today, she’d stopped trying. Tiffany had expensive taste, an appreciation for rooftop restaurants with menus that didn’t list prices until the bill came, and an irritating habit of insisting she was treating whenever Y/N complained.
The city stretched endlessly beyond them, sunlight glinting off skyscrapers that seemed close enough to touch. Down below, traffic crawled through the streets in familiar LA fashion, horns occasionally drifting upward on the warm breeze. It was almost impossible to believe that for two nights rain had flooded the streets and thunder had rattled windows hard enough to wake half the city. Y/N slid into her chair and opened the menu for all of three seconds before immediately closing it again. “Every single time you bring me somewhere like this,” she muttered, setting it back on the table, “I become painfully aware that we do the exact same job and somehow have wildly different bank accounts.”
Tiffany didn’t even bother looking up from across from her as she adjusted the oversized sunglasses resting on top of her red hair. “The difference is I don’t buy coffee every morning.” No. The difference was her daddy was a big time lawyer and gave her money whenever she wanted.
“I buy one coffee.”
“You buy three coffees.”
“They’re emotional support coffees.”
“They’re financial mistakes.”
“They’re necessities.”
“They’re why you’re still living in that shoebox apartment.”
Y/N clicked her tongue. “I liked you better five minutes ago.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Fair.”
The server appeared to take their drink orders before disappearing again, leaving the two women alone beneath the shade of a cream colored umbrella. For a few minutes the conversation stayed comfortably ordinary, bouncing from work gossip to complaints about Saturday night’s crowd at the club. They laughed about one of the bartenders nearly dropping an entire tray of drinks on a bachelor party, rolled their eyes over a regular customer who’d once again insisted he knew the owner and briefly debated whether the new DJ had somehow managed to make every song sound exactly the same.
Then Tiffany’s expression changed. It was subtle. One eyebrow lifted and her smile turned knowing as she folded her hands together on the table and looked directly at Y/N. “So…” Y/N sighed before Tiffany had even finished the word. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I absolutely do.”
Tiffany leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Then answer it.”
“I’m not answering a question you haven’t asked.”
“You’ve been brushing it off for two days.”
Y/N reached for the glass of water the server had just set down, taking a long drink that accomplished absolutely nothing except delaying the inevitable. “I haven’t been brushing anything off.”
“You disappeared Saturday night.”
“I left.”
“You left,” Tiffany repeated slowly, “with the hot blonde.” Y/N stared into her water for another second before finally letting out an exaggerated sigh. “His name was Yunho.” Tiffany blinked once. Then twice. Then pointed a finger across the table like she’d just solved the easiest mystery of her life. “You slut.” Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Oh, please.”
“You fucked him.”
Y/N opened her mouth to deny it but instead she bit down on her bottom lip and the corners of her mouth betrayed her almost immediately, a grin creeping across her face despite every attempt to suppress it making Tiffany’s eyes widen. “Oh.” Y/N looked away toward the skyline, shaking her head to herself. “Oh,” Tiffany repeated, this time with enough realization in her voice to make Y/N laugh quietly under her breath as Tiffany gasped dramatically, one hand flying to her chest. “Oh… he gave you the good dick.”
Y/N nearly choked on her water. “Oh my God,” she hissed between laughs, looking around to make sure nobody nearby had heard. “Would you keep your voice down?”
“I knew it.”
“You knew nothing.”
“I know that smile.”
“There is no smile.”
“There is a massive smile.”
Y/N rubbed a hand over her face, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the amusement away. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re annoying.”
“I’m still right.”
Y/N let out another sigh, this one quieter, before resting her elbows on the table. “It wasn’t supposed to be… memorable.”
“But?”
“But…” A small laugh escaped her. “He was…” She searched for the word. “Different.” Tiffany didn’t interrupt this time. “He actually listened when I talked. Like… genuinely listened. Didn’t spend the whole night trying to impress me. Didn’t brag about himself. Didn’t act like buying me a drink meant I owed him something.” She absentmindedly traced the condensation on her water glass with her fingertip. “We just… talked.”
“And then?”
“And then we went back to my place.”
Tiffany nodded knowingly. “And?”
Y/N shook her head with a quiet groan. “And now I can’t stop comparing him to every other guy I’ve ever slept with, which is incredibly inconvenient.” A laugh burst out of Tiffany before she reached across the table and patted Y/N’s hand. “Honey…”
“What?”
“I don’t think your problem is that the sex was good.”
Y/N frowned.
“I think your problem is that you actually liked him.”
Y/N immediately scoffed. “No.”
“No?”
“It was one night.”
“But?”
“There isn’t a but.”
Tiffany simply gave her a look and Y/N held it for exactly three seconds before looking away toward the skyline again. “He is probably the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she admitted under her breath and hesitating a moment before admitting. “And definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.” Tiffany leaned back in her chair wearing the most self satisfied grin imaginable. “I knew it.”
“I hate that you knew it.”
“No,” Tiffany said with a laugh as their lunch finally arrived, setting steaming plates between them. “You hate that some ridiculously gorgeous stranger walked into your life for one night… and somehow ruined every man who comes after him.”
Y/N reached for a fry, pointing it accusingly across the table. “I am never telling you anything again.”
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The black charger purred to a stop, the engine falling quiet beneath the distant chorus of traffic and the occasional impatient blare of a horn. Yunho stepped out a second later, shutting the driver’s door with a soft click before adjusting the cuff of his black jacket. The afternoon sun hung high overhead, warming the sidewalks just enough to erase any lingering memories of the storm. His day had been, thankfully, uneventful. As expected. Ethan Holloway had proven to be every bit the cliché Seonghwa had promised.
The aspiring musician had answered the knock on his apartment door with bloodshot eyes, two days’ worth of stubble, and the unmistakable scent of desperation clinging to him stronger than cheap whiskey ever could. Yunho hadn’t even bothered pretending to be human for long. One moment he’d been standing in the cramped Laguna Beach apartment. The next… his body dissolved into a swirling cloud of black smoke that rolled across the living room floor like ink spilled into water before reforming directly behind the stunned man again. The glamour had slipped just enough. The polished black horns curling from either side of his head, eyes black. A smile that was just a little too sharp. Humans always believed in the impossible right before they signed their souls away.
The contract had appeared between his fingers with a flick of his wrist and Ethan had barely read a single sentence. “You’ll make me famous?”
“I will.”
“Worldwide?”
“If that’s what you desire.”
“And all I have to do is sign?”
Yunho had smiled. “Everyone always asks that question after they’ve already decided.” The pen touched the paper and infernal ink spread across the page. The bargain sealed itself with a pulse of crimson light before vanishing into black embers. Another soul accounted for. Another lifetime traded for a dream. Yunho had offered a polite nod, dissolved once more into smoke, and reappeared beside his car overlooking downtown Los Angeles before Ethan had even realized he’d forgotten to ask what happened when his time eventually ran out.
People rarely cared about consequences while they still believed they had decades left to worry about them. Now he intended to reward himself. He glanced across the street toward the restaurant, a faint smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he slipped his keys into his pocket and stepped away from his car, waiting at the crosswalk as the pedestrian signal remained stubbornly red. Then… he felt it. Not heard. Not saw. Felt. Ancient magic brushing against his senses like the first cold breeze before a winter storm.
Yunho’s smile faded as he slowly turned his head and saw standing perfectly still on the sidewalk directly outside the restaurant was a woman dressed in robes darker than midnight itself. No human acknowledged her existence. People walked around her without realizing they were doing it. A businessman passed so close his shoulder should’ve collided with hers, yet somehow drifted harmlessly aside at the last possible second as though reality itself refused to allow contact. Her hands rested calmly before her. Her hood was lowered with dark hair framing a face that looked neither young nor old. At her side rested the long obsidian handle of a scythe.
A Reaper.
Yunho exhaled through his nose. “Well.” The Reaper’s eyes shifted toward him with no surprise in them. Only recognition as Yunho shoved both hands into the pockets of his coat before glancing toward the restaurant, then back at her, a snort escaping him. “Please tell me this place isn’t going to burn down.” The Reaper remained silent. “At least not until I get my order,” he continued with a dramatic sigh. “They have my favorite fries here.”
The reaper remained silent until, almost imperceptibly, one corner of her mouth twitched. Not quite a smile but more…. the acknowledgment of a joke she’d heard from him a hundred times before. “You always make light of it.”
“I’ve had four centuries to work on my material.”
“And it hasn’t improved.”
“Ouch.” The pedestrian light changed and people urged into the crosswalk around them. Neither immortal moved as Yunho tilted his head slightly. “So…”
“So.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re standing outside a restaurant in the middle of the afternoon.”
“I am.”
“Which means somebody inside has an appointment.”
“Yes.”
“Soon?”
She nodded once and Yunho sighed again, this time with genuine disappointment. “Damn.” His stomach chose that exact moment to remind him why he’d stopped in the first place and he looked longingly toward the restaurant. “Any chance I can still grab the fries first?”
“No.”
“Cruel.”
“It’s my profession.”
“I thought your profession was escorting souls.”
“I can do both.”
Yunho clicked his tongue. “I liked you better three hundred years ago.”
“You’ve never liked me.”
“I tolerated you more enthusiastically.”
For the first time, something resembling amusement flickered across the reaper’s otherwise unreadable face before it vanished almost immediately and her gaze drifted toward the restaurant entrance. Yunho followed it, though from where he stood all he could see was the steady stream of patrons coming and going beneath the awning. Then the first tremor. It was so slight that most people mistook it for a passing truck but Yunho didn’t.
The vibration rolled beneath his polished shoes like something enormous had shifted beneath the earth itself. The pavement quivered once, barely enough to ripple the puddle collected near the curb after the storm, before settling again into uneasy stillness as his head lifted. But the reaper didn’t move. She simply watched the restaurant with the same unreadable expression she’d worn since he’d arrived. “That wasn’t normal,” Yunho murmured.
“It has begun.”
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Three floors above the street, Y/N and Tiffany had just stepped away from their table. Lunch was over, the bill reluctantly paid after Y/N spent a solid minute complaining about the price of fries that somehow cost eighteen dollars. “I’m telling you,” she muttered as they crossed the rooftop patio toward the stairwell. “If somebody serves me ketchup in a porcelain bowl one more time, I’m starting a riot.” Tiffany laughed, nudging her shoulder. “You still ate all the fries.”
“They were really good.”
“They always are.”
Y/N pulled open the heavy stairwell door, the cool concrete replacing the warmth of the rooftop as they began making their way down. They’d barely reached the first landing when the second tremor hit and the entire stairwell lurched sideways with a deafening groan of twisting steel. “What the….” The lights flickered violently and concrete dust rained from the ceiling as a deep, thunderous rumble rolled through the building, growing louder by the second.
The handrail shook beneath Y/N’s grip then everything began moving. The floor. The walls. The stairs. The entire building swayed with terrifying force as people screamed. “It’s an earthquake!” someone yelled somewhere below and Y/N’s eyes widened. “Tiff!”
“I’m here!”
She grabbed Tiffany’s wrist without thinking. “We have to get out. Now!” The two women stumbled down the stairs together as the building bucked beneath them. Every step became a fight for balance. Somewhere above them, glass exploded and the sound echoed through the stairwell as a woman cried and someone else shouted for their child.
The shaking only intensified as they burst through the second floor exit into the restaurant below and into complete chaos. Tables overturned. Wine bottles shattered across the floor. Ceiling lights swung wildly overhead as people shoved toward every visible exit, trampling chairs beneath their feet in blind panic. “This way!” Y/N shouted over the noise, still pulling Tiffany behind her as another violent jolt ripped through the structure making a support beam overhead crack with a sound like a gunshot.
The floor dipped beneath their feet as a section of reinforcement steel tore free from the ceiling, driven downward with horrifying force. Y/N barely registered the movement. One second Tiffany was beside her. The next….. the beam crashed between them and the impact threw Y/N backward as splintered wood and concrete erupted through the dining room. “Tiffany!” Her voice caught in her throat because the steel had struck Tiffany before either of them could react.
For one impossible, frozen heartbeat, neither woman moved. Y/N simply stared as her mind refused to understand what her eyes were seeing. “Tiff…” Another explosion of cracking concrete ripped through the floor beneath her feet and the building groaned. The sound finally snapped her back to herself. “No…” The section of floor beneath Tiffany began collapsing inward and Y/N stumbled forward. “Tiffany!”
Another violent shake sent a rain of glass cascading from every remaining window as the room tilted and the floor split open. Survival took over and Y/N stumbled backward just as the ground where she’d been standing disappeared into darkness. She turned and ran. Not because she wanted to. But because there was nothing else she could do. She reached the massive floor to ceiling windows overlooking the street below, desperately searching for any way out.
The city had become complete pandemonium. Cars sat at impossible angles. Traffic lights swung overhead. People flooded the sidewalks. The pavement rippled beneath the city as skyscrapers swayed against the skyline and windows burst outward. People poured from surrounding buildings as Yunho’s gaze shot upward back to the restaurant. The glass facade reflected the chaos until…..
Y/N.
His stomach dropped. “No.” Beside him, the Reaper finally spoke, voice remaining calm despite the world collapsing around them. “Should a demon preserve that which fate has harvested… the savior shall forever carry the burden of the saved.”
Yunho’s jaw tightened. “I know.” The words came out through clenched teeth. He knew every syllable. Every consequence. He knew exactly what would happen as above them, the building gave one final, deafening groan before the entire western side began folding inward and Y/N disappeared behind a wall of collapsing concrete.
Yunho moved. His body dissolved into a violent cloud of black smoke that tore across the street faster than the eye could follow. The glamour shattered. Silver hair whipped around glossy black horns as infernal shadows exploded through the collapsing floors and he reformed inside the dying building. Concrete rained around him and steel screamed as the floor vanished beneath his feet. Then he saw her, stood frozen, trapped between the collapsing wall and the shattered windows, staring at him in complete disbelief. There was no time. He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against his chest.
Then everything disappeared into darkness. The building collapsed. Thousands of tons of steel and concrete crashed into themselves in an earth shaking roar, swallowing the restaurant in a cloud of dust that rolled through downtown like a tidal wave as half a block away, black smoke erupted from empty air and Yunho and Y/N stumbled onto the cracked pavement together.
Y/N’s knees nearly gave out as she clutched at the front of his jacket, coughing through the dust, every breath shaking. For several long seconds she couldn’t process what had just happened. The screams. The collapse. Tiffany. Then she looked up. Really looked and he breath caught. “Yunho?” He didn’t answer. His gaze had already lifted beyond her shoulder….
The reaper still stood untouched by dust. Untouched by chaos as she inclined her head once. “The Covenant has witnessed.”
Yunho shut his eyes and his shoulders sagged with the weight of four centuries pressing down all at once. “Fuck.” Dust rolled through the ruined street in suffocating waves, swallowing the afternoon sunlight until everything looked washed in gray. Sirens had already begun somewhere in the distance, their cries growing louder with every passing second, while the screams of survivors echoed from every direction and Y/N still clutched the front of Yunho’s jacket with trembling fingers. “Yunho?” His attention remained fixed on the reaper. The Covenant had witnessed. Four hundred years. Four hundred years of never once crossing the line. Gone. Just like that.
A sharp hiss escaped Y/N. “Ow…” She released his jacket, grabbing at her left wrist as a searing heat exploded beneath her skin. It wasn’t the sting of a cut or the ache of a bruise. It was deeper. Like molten metal had been poured directly into her veins. “What the fuck…”
Yunho’s head snapped down. “No…” The word barely left his lips before he felt it too. Not pain. Recognition. The inside of his own wrist ignited with the same infernal heat as Y/N cried out, staring in disbelief as impossibly thin black lines began spreading beneath her skin. They branched outward like living ink, twisting and weaving together with unsettling precision. But the lines didn’t stop. They curved. Folded. Connected. Until an elegant symbol slowly revealed itself.
A single black horn.
Its shape unmistakably echoed the royal horns now curling from either side of Yunho’s head. It sat over the pulse of her wrist as though it had always belonged there. “No…” Yunho whispered again as his own wrist burned brighter. He looked down just in time to watch another design emerge beneath his own skin. Not a horn. A feather. Long. Elegant. Its delicate barbs etched in the same flowing black lines that formed Y/N’s mark.
Human.
Demon.
The symbols stared back at one another from opposite wrists like two halves of the same ancient promise. Then came the runes. They spiraled outward around each mark in perfect circles, ancient infernal script carving itself into flesh with molten golden light as Y/N watched in horror. “What… what language is that?” Yunho couldn’t answer. Because he could read every word. Every single one. By blood preserved… Another rune burned itself into place. By fate denied… More appeared. Two souls… The circle completed itself.
…bound beyond death.
The final rune flared so brightly it forced both of them to shield their eyes and for one blinding heartbeat, the symbols glowed like liquid gold before the infernal script dissolved. The light vanished beneath their skin, leaving behind only the completed marks, matte black, as though they’d been tattooed there years ago. Silence enveloped them. Even the sounds of the collapsing city seemed impossibly distant as Y/N slowly lowered her wrist, staring first at the strange black horn etched over her pulse… then at Yunho.
Really looking at him for the first time since he’d pulled her from the collapsing building and her eyes traveled upward. Past the silver hair she’d spent two days thinking about. Past the face she’d convinced herself she’d never see again. Until they stopped on the glossy black horns rising from his head and her breathing caught.
She looked from the horns… to the mark on her wrist and back again. “What the hell is going on?”
Yunho didn’t answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the horn branded into her skin, the reality of what he’d done settling over him with crushing finality. The reaper’s form was already beginning to dissolve into drifting ash, her duty complete. And before the last trace of her disappeared, Yunho heard the faint whisper of robes carried on the wind. Then… nothing. Only then did Yunho let out a slow, weary breath as his eyes finally lifted to meet Y/N’s. “The keyword…” he said quietly, a humorless smile touching the corner of his mouth despite everything….
mysterious stranger in my phone -how to pull an idol (a series)
idol!martin x reader
⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖When you let a random stranger rant for a whole ten minutes, you not only gain a new favorite band but also a devestating crush. ݁‧₊˚⋆ִֶָ
SYNOPSIS: when one of your best friends mentions a specific k-pop group in the gc, your once disinterest toward the industry slowly softens as a certain idol catches your eye. but what happens when your simple celebrity crush turns into reality as you unexpectedly meet eye to eye with him at a university festival?
PAIRING: idol kim ryul x uni student/influencer fem reader
CONTAINS: written parts, swearing, down bad reader, multiple parts, use of yn, lee gawon fc, smau, slow burn, lowk slow plot in general...
A/N: this is my first smau/work of anything so PLS give my feedback and tips.... also i'm gna try and update at latest every 2 days, so if u guys enjoy this series feel free to lmk!!!! i'm very excited to see how this progresses 😛 also this layout is lowk inspired by @h4chi so all love to her she's my goat
A/N 2: the girls used to be snu baddies but just for the sake of pinterest and finding pics i lowkey changed it to yonsei sorry guys
SYNOPSIS: when one of your best friends mentions a specific k-pop group in the gc, your once disinterest toward the industry slowly softens as a certain idol catches your eye. but what happens when your simple celebrity crush turns into reality as you unexpectedly meet eye to eye with him at a university festival?
PAIRING: idol kim ryul x uni student/influencer fem reader
CONTAINS: written parts, swearing, lwk down bad reader and ryul, multiple parts + smau, use of yn ln, lee gawon fc, REALLY slow burn, lowk slow plot in general...
A/N: guys SO sorry for the late updates, i've lowkey been so out of it but i WILL be getting back into my grind trust 🤞 the ss count for this chap is short js because of how long it took me to edit all these photos 😭 hopefully they look realistic and u enjoy this update! next one will come soonnn (this is lwk barely proofread but im js gna pray it's still readable lol)
ss count: 15, word count: 1395
comment to join taglist!
masterlist prev next
after the festival, you hand your broken phone over to leesol for repair.
"i can probably get it back to you in two days," she says, warmly smiling.
"sounds good, thank you solll."
"are you all heading back now?" stella asks, one hand fanning her face from the evening heat.
"mhm, i'm totally exhausted," moka answers.
"okay, perfect! it's honestly a blessing that we all live so close together," stella remarks as you all begin to walk to your dorms.
ella turns to face the rest of the group, her bag swinging back and forth from the motion, "AND that it's in the same direction from main campus," she adds, "i swear we're actually interlinked."
the five of you all laugh at ella's comment.
fifteen minutes later, you all arrive.
"see you guys tomorrow!" moka exclaims, waving to the rest of you guys with a smile.
waving back at her, you turn to the three others girls, "'kay i'm gonna go too. see youuu!"
finally getting back to your dorm, you quickly change into your pajamas, tossing your festival clothes on the ground, and launch yourself onto your bed -- that was still unmade from the night before, but right now, you honestly couldn't care less.
as you lay on your soft duvet and stare at the blank, textured ceiling, your mind can't help but wander back to the events at the festival.
more specifically, whatever happened with ryul during lngshot's set.
despite how hard you tried to fight the urge to check for any updates online -- i mean, this was supposed to be your "offline time" now that your phone wasn't with you -- your thoughts eventually overtake you. as you head to your desk where your laptop is, you mindlessly start anticipating for what you'll see.
right as you're about to close your laptop and go to sleep, a ding suddenly chimes in your ears.
you quickly check your screen, not noticing anything important, until your eyes land on the tiny "1" next to your chats.
your head slightly tilts as you click on the bubble icon.
almost like fate, it's none other than ryul messaging you.
you roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, as you open the chat.
you weren't actually going to sleep.
in fact, you instead searched "kim ryul" on twitter, and scrolled for a whole 15 minutes through the many photos and videos of him.
you noticed so many stupidly attractive details about him: the way he joked with his fans, or how he'd occasionally smirk in between his verses. it all only made the fact that you had just texted him so much more unreal.
amidst your "indirect stalking" your mind couldn't help but ask: could this really become a thing?
but nonetheless, he's still a k-pop idol, and you're an up-and-coming influencer on twitter -- if you could even call it that.
of course, you didn't want to overthink it.
but if all this wasn't leading to anything, where could it possibly be going?
you didn't want to put all your eggs in one basket -- that's how the saying actually went, but whenever you two talked, it was almost like you could feel sparks forming with every text.
did you... like him?
it even felt weird thinking it.
to be honest, you knew you were getting too ahead of yourself. so, in an attempt to get your mind off of it all, you open a new tab and pull up the email inbox for your twitter account.
it was still hilarious how some people actually reached out to you about the ryul incident -- not even the man himself did.
you choose to ignore it all. especially that random hate email in your inbox. what was the point in opening it anyway?
you refresh your inbox, not thinking something new would actually show up.
but it does.
an email from GENTLE MONSTER titled: "Gentle Monster Global Campaign Inquiry".
as you scan the title a few more times, you can feel your stomach drop and yours eye widen. hastily, you move your trackpad to open the email. your other hand goes to cover your mouth, which has practically locked itself open.
"hey siri, facetime 'yonsei baddies'."
"facetiming 'yonsei baddies'," your siri replies back.
you drag the other window over, full-screening it, before typing out your reply.
"okay so.." you say, hands rested on the keyboard, "do i just say hi first? i mean there's not a specific name to like address."
"yeah, just start with hi," leesol replied.
"okok."
as you're mid typing, you suddenly stop and run your fingers through your hair.
"bro i'm still in shock.. like out of thousands of people, gentle monster.. reaches out to ME??" you point your finger towards your chest.
"dude, you've freaking MADE ITT," stella exclaims. a hearty laugh between her and ian can be faintly heard through the call.
"don't forget us when you hit 1 million!" ella sarcastically remarks.
you laugh at ella's comment, "y'all are TOO much, but oh my god i can't even right now."
after a couple more minutes of typing, you quickly skim through it again before saying to the call, "wait okay i have like my first draft."
you read your reply to your friends, mumbling through a few words.
after fixing up a few sentences here and there -- guided mainly by leesol and mokas' very helpful suggestions -- you finally send out the email.
rolling your chair back and spinning a couple circles, you squeal, "ahhh i still can't believe it!!"
a few seconds of laughs and cheers echo from your laptop, before it suddenly goes quiet.
"wait yn don't freak out but..."
you quickly return back to your desk, dragging the facetime window back into view.
"you just hit 50k on twitter," stella says, her head facing down at her phone. she quickly widens her eye as she looks back at her screen.
“there’s no way," you reply, tugging a piece of hair behind your ear.
“way.”
"let me check," you open a new tab from the previous window and hurriedly head to your twitter profile.
you scan over your follower count.
fifty thousand followers.
your neck extends forward as you look at the number again.
"oh my fucking god.... HELLOOO??" you practically yell, "i was just at 25k like 4 days ago."
"3 BRO," ella corrected, "in 3 DAYS you gained the amount of followers it took you like 5 months to get."
"damn, that's crazyy. bro yn you're actually famous now," leesol added.
you lean back into your chair, still in complete shock at the achievement.
"wait, like if you think about it..." a few seconds go by before moka continues, "you don't even have a public tiktok or instagram... isn't it harder to get twitter followers, like 100% from tweets alone 'cause it's like... more casual? or like more fast-paced?"
ella replies, "chat.." she smiles, briefly looking up to think, "yeah, no you're right!"
"are you gonna write a thank you post?" stella asked.
"well yeah, i have to!" you create a new twitter post and starting typing out a quick message.
"stop, what if this was because of the ryul incident.. LMAO"
your smile drops for a second as your hands freeze on your keyboard. you roll your eyes at the comment.
"stop it with that! oh my daysss can we leave the past in the past???"
"haha of course," ella chuckles, "it'll never be mentioned again." she teasingly raises her eyebrows as she shakes her head.
"oh my god.. gtfo with your sarcasm."
"awww, does it turn you on?" the girl jokes back.
you sigh in defeat.
"bruh you're so annoying."
not even a minute after you click "post" a notification appears on your screen.
"wait what the fuck??"
"what?" stella responded.
"bro ryul JUST liked my post."
"aww that's cute"
"but like.. and??? is that it?" moka asked.
"no but i like JUST posted it. like it hasn't even been a minute," you put your hand on your cheek as you lean into your desk.
"wait doesn't that mean..." ella says, before pausing, "OHHH MY GOD HE HAS NOTIFS ON FOR YOU"
...
the entire call bursts into screams and squeals as your eyes stay fixed on the notification. after a few seconds, you cover you mouth, failing to hide how stupidly wide your grin has gotten.
Synopsis: On the outskirts of Seoul, Y/N’s quiet life changes when they open their home to hybrids in need. As wounded hearts find refuge under one roof, unexpected bonds and the promise of love begin to bloom.
The day started like any other, just a meeting running late at work, and Y/N would be home before nightfall. Still, the house felt strangely empty. San sprawled on the living room rug, feigning indifference but glancing at the clock every ten minutes. Yeosang paced by the windows, hands in his pockets, posture tense as he watched the street. Yunho tried to bake, filling the kitchen with the scent of cinnamon and humming under his breath, hoping to make the quiet feel less oppressive.
It was late afternoon when a strange sound broke the uneasy routine: a soft, desperate scraping at the patio door. All three froze. San stiffened, Yeosang’s eyes narrowed, and Yunho’s heart thudded with the memory of his own first night.
They crept to the patio door, moving as a unit. San was the first to reach it, peering through the glass. Hunched against the wall, a massive figure was soaked to the skin, shivering. His tail curled around him, and a pair of soft, mournful eyes met theirs before darting away.
Yunho’s voice was the first to break the silence, gentle but uncertain. “We should help him. That’s what Y/N would do.”
San hesitated, bristling with old caution, but Yeosang’s steady hand on his shoulder grounded him. “If he wanted to hurt us, he would have tried by now,” Yeosang said quietly, gaze locked on the stranger’s hunched form.
Summoning a courage he didn’t quite feel, Yunho unlocked the door and stepped outside, San and Yeosang close behind. The cold air bit at their skin as they knelt beside the newcomer. Up close, he looked even larger, but he cowered, flinching from every movement.
Yunho crouched low, his ears angled forward in concern, voice rough but not unkind. “Hey. We’re not gonna hurt you. You… you want to come inside?”
The stranger blinked through wet lashes, then nodded, so slight it was barely more than a tremor.
Yeosang offered a hand, and San hovered, arms crossed, worry etched across his face. Yunho grabbed a towel from just inside the door. Together, they coaxed the hybrid inside, guiding him toward the warmth of the living room. As the door closed behind them, San caught Yeosang’s eye uneasy, but a little more sure.
“We’ll get you dry. And food. That’s what we do now,” Yunho said, his voice trembling with nervous hope.
As soon as they got Mingi inside, the warmth of the house hit him and so did the exhaustion. He swayed where he stood, eyes wide and lost, still dripping onto the floor.
San hovered near the hallway, arms folded, glancing from the newcomer to the others. “He’s a mess,” he muttered, but his voice was softer than his words. After a beat, he spun on his heel. “I’ll start a bath and get some clothes.” He disappeared down the hall, grumbling, but neither Yeosang nor Yunho missed the concern in his posture.
Yeosang and Yunho stayed with Mingi, guiding him gently to sit on the edge of the couch. Yeosang knelt beside him, voice surprisingly gentle. “You’re safe now. Just breathe for a second, okay? Nobody here’s gonna let anything happen to you.”
Yunho crouched in front of Mingi, offering a reassuring smile. “We’ve all been where you are. You can take your time.” He pressed a clean towel into Mingi’s hands, noticing the tremor in his grip.
Yeosang and Yunho stayed close, talking quietly as Mingi peeled away his wet clothes and clutched the towel around himself. His eyes darted between them, but he didn’t pull away from their care.
When San returned, he jerked his chin toward the bathroom, not quite meeting Mingi’s eyes. “Bath’s ready. I, uh… left some clothes on the counter; hopefully, they fit. Just…don’t take forever, alright?” But as he retreated, he lingered a moment in the doorway, concern flickering across his face.
With trembling hands, Mingi made his way to the bathroom, supported on either side by Yeosang and Yunho. The two shared a quiet look a silent promise to stay close, to wait, to welcome him when he was ready.
Mingi emerged from the bathroom in borrowed sweats and a shirt that swallowed his long frame, hair damp and cheeks flushed from the warmth of the bath. He hovered in the hall, uncertain, until Yunho waved him over to the kitchen table where a simple meal was laid out rice, soup, and fruit, all steaming in the lamplight.
San was already seated, arms crossed, but he kept sneaking glances at Mingi from under his fringe. Yeosang sat on Mingi’s other side, posture relaxed, eyes sharp for any sign of distress. Yunho slid a chair out and gave Mingi a soft smile. “C’mon, sit. You need food, right?”
Mingi sat awkwardly, hands trembling as he picked up his spoon. He barely met anyone’s eyes, shrinking in on himself, but Yunho ladled soup into his bowl and Yeosang nudged a plate of fruit closer, murmuring, “Eat. You need your strength.”
San grumbled, “Don’t make a mess,” but his voice lacked bite. When Mingi flinched at the sound, San sighed and shoved a napkin toward him, a little too roughly. “You’re not in trouble. Just…take it slow, okay?”
Mingi nodded, shoulders hunched, and took a tentative bite of soup. The warmth settled in his chest, almost painful in its gentleness. Yunho kept the conversation light, talking about the garden and the weather, never once asking Mingi for anything. Yeosang offered small reassurances “You can have as much as you want,” “If you’re tired, you can sleep after,” never pushing, just anchoring him in the present.
After a few more bites, Mingi looked up, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m Mingi,” he offered, glancing shyly between them. “Thank you… for everything.”
San, who’d been quietly savoring his own bowl, perked up and offered a small, encouraging smile. “I’m San. Glad you’re here too, Mingi.”
Yunho smiled warmly. “It’s good to meet you, Mingi. I’m Yunho, and that’s Yeosang.”
Yeosang nodded, his expression gentle. “We’re glad you’re here.”
San, for all his bluster, kept a careful watch. When Mingi’s hand shook, he reached over and steadied the bowl without a word, then looked away as if embarrassed.
Bit by bit, Mingi’s breathing slowed. He ate more, the edge of panic receding under the careful, awkward care of three boys who knew exactly what it was to be lost and found. The silence that followed wasn’t empty anymore it was full of hope, and something that, if given time, might become belonging.
After dinner, Yunho cleared the table while San and Yeosang lingered nearby, keeping half an eye on Mingi. He looked exhausted, his eyelids drooping, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of the day. Yunho dried his hands and approached him with a soft smile.
“Come on, Mingi,” Yunho coaxed gently. “Let’s get you settled in a bedroom. You’ll sleep better in a real bed.”
Mingi tensed, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine here. I can just stay on the floor or… or the couch. I don’t want to be a bother. I’m used to it.”
San’s mouth twisted in frustration, but Yeosang quietly intervened. He laid a steady hand on Mingi’s arm, his voice level but reassuring. “You’re not a bother. But you don’t have to be alone, either. The couch is big. Why don’t you sleep out here with us? That way, you know we’re all close.”
Mingi looked between them, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but the idea seemed to ease some of his tension. Yunho nodded enthusiastically, grabbing a stack of extra blankets. “Yeah, we can all stay out here tonight. It’s warmer that way.”
San rolled his eyes, but he was already dragging over a pillow, pretending it was an inconvenience. “If you snore, I’m kicking you,” he muttered, not quite hiding the fondness in his tone.
With everyone’s help, they made a nest of blankets and cushions in the living room. Mingi settled onto the couch, still hesitant, but as San stretched out on the rug, Yeosang curled up on the other end, and Yunho tucked himself in beside the armrest, the fear in Mingi’s face faded just a little.
For the first time, he wasn’t falling asleep alone he was surrounded by the quiet, awkward, steadfast presence of people who understood. And as the room filled with soft breathing and the hush of night, it finally felt like he might be able to rest.
But true sleep was slow to come. The living room had settled into a sprawl of blankets and low voices. Mingi, freshly bathed and full, was already dozing on one end of the couch. San lounged on the floor, Yeosang sat reading by the lamplight, and Yunho, restless, had his phone in hand when Y/N’s name lit up the screen.
He answered quickly, careful to keep his voice low. “Hello?”
“Hey, Yunho,” Y/N said their voice tired but gentle, with that soft note of care he always noticed. “Just checking in. I’ll be working late tonight and thought I’d bring home dinner. Any requests? Cravings?”
Yunho’s mind raced. He glanced at the others and then at Mingi, who shifted in his sleep. “Uh, let me check,” he said, covering the receiver and quietly asking, “San, Yeosang, Y/N’s on the phone. They want to know if we want anything special for dinner.”
San grunted, “Spicy chicken.” Yeosang, without looking up, murmured, “Noodles.”
Yunho relayed the answers, then hesitated. He looked at Mingi, and his heart squeezed. “Um, could you maybe get a little extra tonight? Everyone’s… hungrier than usual,” he said, carefully avoiding details.
Y/N laughed lightly. “You all and your bottomless stomachs. Anything else? You’re all okay?”
Yunho’s fingers tightened on the phone. “Yeah. We’re okay. Everyone’s together in the living room. It feels… a little more like home lately.”
“That’s all I want to hear,” Y/N replied warmly. “I’m on my way home now. Let everyone know, okay?”
“Will do,” Yunho said, relief and anticipation in his voice.
He ended the call, letting out a breath. Yeosang looked over, eyebrow raised. “You didn’t tell them.”
“They’ve probably had a long day,” Yunho whispered. “We’ll… we’ll tell them when they get here.”
San grumbled into his pillow, but the nervous anticipation in the air was unmistakable. As the minutes ticked by, the living room’s fragile calm gave way to a restless energy. Mingi had drifted back to sleep on the couch, but the others were anything but relaxed.
San was the first to break the silence, running a hand through his hair. “They’re going to freak out, aren’t they? We should’ve told them on the phone.”
Yeosang closed his book with a soft thud. “It’s better this way. They’ll understand. They should, I hope.” Still, he glanced toward the front door with apprehension, his tail flicking restlessly.
Yunho paced, then started straightening the blanket nest. He smoothed pillows, stacked empty mugs, and nervously set out an extra cup for tea. “Maybe we should get Mingi to sit up? Or should we wake him? Should we explain first, or just… let them walk in?”
San snorted, though his bravado was thin. “They’ll probably forgive us. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them.”
They fussed over the little things, adjusting the cushions, clearing away crumbs, making sure Mingi was as comfortable as possible. Yeosang knelt beside the couch and gently shook Mingi’s shoulder. “Wake up, big guy. Y/N’s coming home soon.”
Mingi blinked awake, still groggy and wary. “What… do I do?”
Yunho offered a gentle smile. “Just be yourself.”
San rolled his eyes, but even he was sitting a little straighter, smoothing his hair and fussing with his sleeves. The anticipation was thick in the air, every creak of the floorboards making them jump.
Finally, the sound of a car in the driveway sent all three into a silent panic. Yunho hovered near the door, San tried (and failed) to look nonchalant, and Yeosang rested a reassuring hand on Mingi’s shoulder.
The front door opened, bringing in a rush of cool air and the scent of takeout. Y/N stepped inside, arms full of food bags, their expression tired but brightening when they saw the familiar faces in the living room.
“Hey, everyone. I come bearing—” They stopped mid-sentence, eyes landing on Mingi, who sat frozen on the couch, the long-sleeve shirt swallowing his torso, making him look small.
For a heartbeat, the room was silent.
Y/N’s gaze softened, taking in Mingi’s nervous posture, the way Yeosang and Yunho hovered near Mingi, and San’s anxious fidgeting on the floor. They set the food down and smiled a little wide-eyed, a little overwhelmed, but warm all the same.
“Looks like we’ve got a new guest,” they said, their voice gentle as they crouched to Mingi’s level. “I’m Y/N. Welcome to our home.”
Mingi’s ears drooped, but he managed a small, hopeful smile. “Mingi, thank you... for welcoming me into your home.”
San exhaled, ears finally relaxing. Yunho’s tail thumped softly against the couch. Yeosang squeezed Mingi’s shoulder, quiet reassurance in his touch.
Y/N looked around at their mismatched, anxious boys and felt something settle in their chest, a fragile, growing certainty that, no matter how chaotic this house became, it was finally becoming a home.
A few hours later, the initial whirlwind of Mingi’s arrival had faded into a quiet, tentative exhaustion. The house was quiet, but never truly silent. Somewhere down the hall, Mingi’s anxious footsteps creaked the floorboards as he settled in for the night. Yunho was curled on the couch, his tail twitching in a dream. San had retreated to the window ledge, bushy tail wrapped around his knees, his silhouette sharp and solitary against the glass, while Yeosang lingered in the kitchen, ears flicking at every faint sound as he methodically washed the last dishes by hand.
Y/N stood at the threshold between rooms, feeling the weight of their own exhaustion. The house was vast, its echoes a reminder of how empty it had felt a year ago. Now, with these four, the emptiness was different, less a void, more a hesitation. Four survivors, each wary in their own way, are circling around the possibility of trust.
San glanced over his shoulder, catching Y/N watching him. His eyes flashed with something unspoken, maybe, but also longing. “You’re not sleeping either?” he asked, voice low.
Y/N shook their head. “Not yet. Too many thoughts again.”
San snorted, but there was no bite to it. “Tell me about it.”
Yunho stirred, blinking awake. He offered Y/N a lopsided smile, the kind that always seemed to say thank you without words. “You want the couch?” he mumbled. “I can move.”
Y/N shook their head again, softer this time. “You’re fine, Yunho. I’ll go to my room soon.”
The light from the kitchen spilled into the hallway as Yeosang finished up. He dried his hands with slow, precise movements, glancing at the others before speaking. “It’s quieter with just us,” he said, not quite a question.
Y/N nodded, feeling the weight of Yeosang’s gaze a challenge and a reassurance both. “Quieter, yes. But not lonely.”
Yeosang’s lips twitched, almost a smile. Mingi’s door creaked open, and he padded out, oversized hoodie swallowing his frame. His eyes found Y/N, wide and uncertain, seeking permission for something he couldn’t quite voice.
“Can I… stay out here a bit?” Mingi asked, his tone cautious.
Y/N gestured to the couch, the rug, anywhere he liked. “Of course, Mingi. This is your home too.”
For a moment, no one spoke. The four hybrids hovered near, each keeping their distance, but their presence was a comfort, a silent promise that, maybe, they were all learning how to stay.
Y/N settled onto the bottom step of the staircase, knees drawn up, listening to the sounds of the house: Yunho’s gentle breathing, the faint thump of his tail; San’s restless, bushy tail swishing; Yeosang’s methodical tidying punctuated by the flick of his ears; Mingi’s anxious fidgeting and the occasional flap of his own. The ache of loss was still there, old grief mingled with the fragile hope of something new.
They didn’t dare name the feeling growing in their chest; it was too soon, too risky. But as Y/N watched the four hybrids carving out space for themselves in this mansion, they began to believe that healing didn’t have to be lonely and that love, no matter how slow, was starting to find its way in.
The house was quiet, shadows stretching long and restless across polished floors. Most nights, Y/N had learned to sleep through the creaks and distant murmurs, but tonight, something felt off a tension, subtle and sharp, threading through the darkness.
A muffled noise caught Y/N’s attention. At first, it sounded like any other night sound, but as they listened, it came again a choked gasp, barely audible, from the room at the end of the hall. San’s room.
Y/N hesitated, heart pounding. San was fiercely independent, always bristling at comfort, quick to snap if anyone saw him vulnerable. But Y/N’s feet moved before their doubt could catch up, carrying them quietly to the door left slightly ajar.
Inside, moonlight etched harsh lines over San’s sleeping form. His tufted Maine Coon ears were flattened, bushy tail lashing beneath the blanket. Sweat glistened at his temples. He whimpered, a sound no one in the house had ever heard from him while awake.
Y/N knelt beside the bed, careful not to touch. “San,” they whispered, voice barely more than a breath, “you’re safe. It’s just me. You’re home.”
San jerked awake, wild-eyed and trembling, chest heaving. For a heartbeat, he didn’t seem to recognize them. Then reality crept back in the room, the night, Y/N’s gentle presence.
He tried to bolt upright, but Y/N held out a steady hand, palm open, not reaching but inviting. “You had a nightmare,” they said softly.
San’s breath shuddered out of him. He looked at Y/N’s hand, the offer of comfort, and for once, didn’t flinch away. His voice was raw. “I hate this.”
“I know,” Y/N said. “But you don’t have to pretend.”
For a long moment, San stared at them, as if searching for the catch. When he finally spoke, it was barely more than a whisper. “Stay until I fall asleep?”
Y/N nodded, settling onto the bed beside San. They didn’t touch. San wasn’t ready for that, but their presence was a promise: steady, patient, unwavering. As San’s breathing slowed and the tension eased from his body, Y/N hummed a quiet tune, filling the silence with something warm, something safe.
Long after San drifted back to sleep, Y/N remained, watching over him and letting the closeness settle deep in their chest. It wasn’t love not yet but it was a beginning. And in the hush of the mansion, with old wounds slowly healing, it was enough.
A few days passed, rain drumming steadily against the mansion’s tall windows, blurring the gardens beyond into a wash of green and silver. The house had settled into a tentative rhythm: Yunho rose first to make coffee, Yeosang patrolled the kitchen with silent vigilance, San drifted in and out, sometimes joining, sometimes watching from a shadowed doorway.
Mingi, at first, kept mostly to himself, hovering in doorways, flinching at sudden noises, his ears twitching nervously at every unexpected sound. He seemed to shrink inside his oversized sweaters, his voice barely above a whisper when spoken to. But as the days stretched on, little things began to change.
It started at breakfast. Y/N found Mingi hovering near the table, fingers twisting the hem of his sleeve. Instead of fleeing when Y/N caught his gaze, he offered a small, anxious smile. Y/N smiled back, soft and patient, and pulled out a chair. “Sit with us?” they asked gently.
Mingi hesitated, then nodded, settling beside Yunho. The others pretended not to notice, but San slid a plate of toast closer, and Yeosang poured an extra cup of tea, their small gestures speaking volumes.
Later, Y/N caught Mingi humming softly in the hallway a tune Yunho liked to sing under his breath. By afternoon, Mingi had joined Yeosang in the garden, clumsy at first but eager to help with the weeds. When San snapped at him out of frustration, Mingi only flinched a little, and Y/N was quick to step in, voice warm but firm: “Everyone’s learning, San. Let’s be patient.”
That night, Mingi lingered in the living room after dinner, curled on the rug while Yunho recounted a story from his old rescue. When Y/N passed through, Mingi looked up, eyes brighter, and asked shyly but hopefully if they could read aloud from the book on the coffee table.
As Y/N’s voice filled the room, San sprawled across the couch, and Yeosang quietly folded laundry nearby. For the first time, Mingi didn’t look ready to bolt; instead, he relaxed into the circle of quiet companionship, a small, contented smile tugging at his lips.
There was still distance; old wounds don’t heal in days, but the ache of loneliness in the mansion was softer now, replaced by something fragile and new. Y/N watched Mingi laugh at one of Yunho’s jokes and felt hope bloom in their chest. This was how it started: one safe moment at a time.
Sunlight crept through the curtains, gilding the corners of Y/N’s bedroom in quiet gold. It was the first morning in weeks they’d needed to trade sweatpants for a crisp suit and tie, and the world outside the mansion was waiting.
Downstairs, the hybrids gathered for breakfast as usual. Mingi was already at the table, knees pulled to his chest, watching Y/N with bright, nervous eyes.
“You’re… leaving?” he asked, voice wobbling on the edge of worry.
Y/N softened their tone, pouring coffee. “Just for the day. There’s a meeting I can’t reschedule. I’ll be home for dinner, I promise.”
Mingi’s ears drooped. Across the table, Yunho’s golden retriever ears tipped in concern, San’s tufted ears flicked back, and Yeosang’s Doberman tail gave a restless twitch as they tried to mask their anxiety. Y/N reached out, squeezing Mingi’s shoulder. “You’ll be safe here. Yunho has my number if anything happens.”
But Mingi shook his head, determination flickering in his wide eyes. “I want to go with you. Please. I…I won’t get in the way. I just… I need to be close.”
Y/N hesitated, scanning the faces at the table. San looked away, pretending not to care. Yunho offered a supportive nod, while Yeosang simply watched, protective and unreadable.
“Alright,” Y/N said finally, voice gentle. “If you’re sure, Mingi. We’ll take it slow. Just you and me today.”
Mingi brightened, scrambling to pull on sneakers and tugging his sleeves nervously. Y/N knelt to meet his gaze, searching for any sign of panic. “If you get overwhelmed, tell me, okay? We leave the second you want.”
Mingi nodded, the terror of being left behind giving way to a quiet, fragile excitement to be by Y/N’s side.
Author’s note: i hope that👀👀 you guys enjoy this👀👀👀 and i can make a part 2 👀👀👀👀
Pairings: Yang jeongin x fem!reader
Summary: Jeongin texts the wrong number, thinking it’s Chan. He doesn’t tell her who he is truly. What happens when he has no choice but to reveal the truth?
pairing: Felix x f!reader
wc: 30 ss
tags/warnings: fluff, minor angst, misunderstanding, cursing
part one // part two // part three
masterlist
Summary: When Felix needs a director of photography for his upcoming music video, Chan recommends you, his childhood friend and an aspiring cinematographer.
a/n: New little series! Three parts, mostly fluffy with a lil sprinkling of angst because I'm me.
perm. taglist: @virgopotterhead @sue-reads @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @1giss4swft3 @emmalabo @snoop136 @diekleinesuesse @ArielWhite1221 @velvetmoonlght @ch3rry15pin @danielle143 @thisisnotjacinta @geni-627 @barbie-girl84 @clairementsolo @stvr-l0stt @bangchansbig-nose @chandlxa @flippedccc @astrayapple @ylstacy @cchapssaltteok @NiKu_0704 @writtenbypeachy @emeraldgem22 @bahngarang @cb9711 @parkairis18 @persassyismysecrettwin @hey-i-really-miss-you @mikachux3 @haunted1nk @sugarcoathan @udontknowmeppl @estella-novella @angrygardendeer @candyquokka @darbyjaneeee @lyuuu88 @iheartkentonanami @mintchip17 @valpalmaka @missvanjii @iownachihuahua @crashmunson @wolfhallows4 @dustyinkypages @artemiss-moonchild @elliesim19997 @kibs-and-bits @awkwardlyshawna @bunbunbl0gs @ebnabi @wendigo-the-deer @pinkyrec @scarlettmoonsx @99-booksaremylife @existentialdread-mademedoit (to join the permanent taglist fill out this form; to join the series taglist let me know in a comment)
pairing: OT8!ateez (platonic) x f!reader; idol!yunho x f!reader; idol!yeosang (platonic) x f!reader
text/social media au, written
slowburn, chaos, humour & soft romance
summary: living beneath apartment 304 means dealing with late-night gaming, loud celebrations, and far too much noise at impossible hours — something that constantly disturbs both her peace and her cat. it’s definitely not what she signed up for. the only question is whether they’ll learn to live through the noise, or let it remain the wall between them.
￫ (A lot happens in this one) You trained hard all day at the company and all you could do was fall asleep at the door, luckily Louis was home and let you fall asleep on his lap. (Read for more!!!)
￫ Ohyul moments, Louis moments, a few woojin and ryul moments
wc: 5034
🧢.
A part of the room for 1 more series
。°。°。°。°。°
By the time you reached the front door, your body had long since stopped cooperating with your brain. Every muscle ached from dancing in the studio for fourteen relentless hours, your calves burned with every step and your shoulders felt impossibly heavy beneath the pull of your duffle bag.
Since three this morning you had been in the dance studio at More Vision, surrounded by long mirrors that reflected every mistake, speakers that shouted the same song over and over again to the point you could sing every word despite it being in a foreign language and your choreographer that counted every step.
“Again, from the top! Control your right leg, it’s all over the place”
He even left hours before you did because you couldn’t accept defeat. You were going to get this right even if you broke a leg trying.
By the end you didn’t even look like yourself, heavy dark bags under your eyes, hair disheveled and in much need of a brush, your skin even looked duller than usual.
You’re drained.
The lock clicked with a soft metallic snap after you entered the dorm. You barely managed to take your shoes off before your legs gave way and you went crashing onto the pile of shoes.
Your bag slipped from your shoulder and the keys that were once gripped in your hand, scattered in front of you on the wooden floor. You closed your eyes for just a second, in hopes it would regain some strength.
Unfortunately, that second stretched on for a few minutes.
You didn’t even hear the quiet footsteps approaching from deeper inside the dorm.
“Y/n?” Louis voice appeared above you like an angel from heaven.
“Yes…”
You didn’t even look up at the boy, just kept your head buried in the shoes.
“You good?” His knees cracked as he crouched down to your level.
“I will be in a second, I’m recharging”
“Do you want help?”
You finally looked up at Louis; he was still in his uniform and his headphones rested around his neck. He winced at the sight of your face; he didn’t even try to hide it. Both his brows were downturned and his lips scrunched to reveal his teeth.
The sight of his expression made you groan and throw your head back down.
“Come on” He grabbed your wrists. “You’ll start merging with the shoes if you stay any longer” He tugged your lips upwards to try get you on your feet, but your body point blank refused.
“Just drag me, I’m a sack of bones at this point”
“Are you serious?”
You replied with an incoherent hum. He poked your shoulder repeatedly hoping annoying you would be an easier route.
“The couch is five steps away”
“I can’t walk” You mumbled into the floor. “I live here now”
“Not until the others get home” He laughed. “You’ll be flattened” He tugged at your wrists again, praying he wouldn’t actually have to drag you across the room. “Cmon move”
“Mhm”
“Fine”
You didn’t think he’d take you seriously until you felt your body shift over the shoes. The hardwood was cool against your skin as he slowly pulled you across the floor, your polka dot socks gliding effortlessly over the polished surface.
Your bag and keys remained abandoned at the door while you drifted somewhere between consciousness and sleep, far too exhausted to care about whatever dignity you were sacrificing.
“You weigh less than my gym bag” Louis muttered, though it didn’t seem like he was complaining.
“Rude”
“So you are alive”
“Barley”
You cracked one eye open and you could see him stood above you with his hands on his hips. Seems the teenager has become the responsible one.
For several seconds nothing happened, Louis stayed staring at you laying on the ground; he even questioned if you fell asleep. Finaly, you used every bit of strength to plant your palms on the ground and climb onto the couch.
He watched as you slouched against the cushions, slowly slipping closer and closer to the edge.
“You’re going to fall again” He whined.
“I’m fine” Your eyes closed together involuntarily.
The couch dipped beside you as Louis joined you. The pillow you leaned against was pulled from behind you and placed on his lap.
“What are you doing” You looked at Louis with half open eyes, but he had his headphones covering his ears stopping your voice reaching him.
He patted the pillow gently and you took it as an invitation to flop down and swing your legs on the couch. Curling up and closing your eyes to fall asleep.
It didn’t even take a second before you drifted off to sleep, feeling your body relax and your mind finally shut off.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
Laughter echoed around the dorm followed by the unmistakable sound of someone dropping a backpack onto the floor.
“Hyung, I told you that wasn’t the right station”
“It literally was”
“It literally wasn’t”
“I have Google maps”
“You also have no sense of direction”
“Chatgpt said it was right, three against one”
A chorus of voices overlapped each other until one of them burst into the loudest laughter you’d ever heard, it literally vibrated off the walls.
You buried your face deep into the pillow, trying to drown out the ear aching noise. Why is everyone so loud?
Your eyes fluttered open to be greeted by the coffee table in the living room instead of your bedroom. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you slowly pushed yourself upright making the blanket that covered you pool in your lap.
“Why am I on the couch?”
Noone answered. Too busy huddling in the kitchen to rummage through the plastic bag, grabbing their snacks and drinks.
You yawned and lifted a hand to run your fingers through your hair, but your fingers stopped, caught in some sort of tangle.
“What the…?”
Instead of the tangled mess you assumed would be in your hair it felt like something different. It was neater than a tangle. Your fingers ran down behind your head, feeling the loose weave running down your back. A braid.
You froze and pulled it over your shoulder; it was neatly done and tied with a purple hair tie. “Who braided my hair?”
That got everyone’s attention, their heads turned towards you at once. All of them stopped digging into their food and stared at the braid in your hand. Then Ryul snorted.
“You’ve been asleep this whole time?” Woojin asked with his brows raised, almost touching his beanie.
You looked around the room disoriented, not remembering getting home or even laying on the couch. “Apparently”
Ohyul broke out in laughter, seeing the dazed look in your eyes, it was like you had time travelled or teleported from the past.
“You’ve been passed out on the couch for hours”
“We had to extract you from Louis so he could come with us” Woojin added.
“We started to think you had died” Ryul joined in with a laugh, his hand deep in a bag of chips.
“Like a Victorian child who caught the plague”
You stared at Ohyul after his last observation, he said it with way too much confidence and you didn’t know whether you should feel hurt or laugh.
“That’s oddly specific”
“It was concerning”
“It was hilarious”
“Louis looked like he was deciding whether to call an ambulance or let you keep sleeping on his lap” Ryul looked between you and the now pink cheeked Louis who was stood observing while sipping his Capri sun.
“You did this?” You looked towards Louis with a smile.
He pulls the straw from his lips. “I was bored” He just shrugged like it was no big deal and went back to sipping his drink.
“How long was I asleep” You moved your legs off the couch, they felt like jelly once your feet the floor.
Your hip was numb so with every step you hobbled like an old lady.
“Around five hours, Louis said you got home at four and crashed as soon as you laid down” Ohyul was peeling the wrapper off a cheese stick before taking a bite.
Woojin snickered as you hobbled towards them. You were starving and looking for anything to sink your teeth into.
“You okay halmeoni?” The boys laughed at his joke.
“Fuck off” You couldn’t stop the smile from reaching your lips. “Did I possibly get anything?”
The three boys looked to Ohyul and it seemed they didn’t think about you at the store. Your shoulders deflated as you stared at Ohyul.
“Whoops must’ve forgotten” He gives you an apologetic smile, it had a hint of playfulness though, the way his cheeks rounded and his gums showed.
“I’ll just have whatever’s in the fridge” You opened the fridge to find it empty, nothing but sauces and a lone half eaten cabbage. “I’ll have cabbage and ketchup…?”
You feel a light tug on your arm; you spin around to see Woojin holding a triangle onigiri and a bottle of vitamin water.
The boys watched as your face visibly light up at the sight of food.
“Thank you”
Subconsciously your body leaped forward and grabbed the onigiri from Woojin and unwrapped the plastic, it was a tuna onigiri, your favorite.
You didn’t realize how hungry you were until your stomach growled at the smell of food. Ohyul chuckled under his breath.
“Have you eaten today?” He asked.
You just shook your head no because truthfully you hadn’t, you didn’t even leave the studio today, so you only had what you brought. A half-filled water bottle and a protein bar.
“You need to eat if you’re working a lot, it’s not healthy” Ryul scolded you like an older brother. He lightly hit your arm, and his face resembled an angry mom.
“You can pay for my food delivery then” You didn’t even look up from the food in your hands; you needed this food devoured before your stomach flipped from starvation.
“Okay” Ryuls expression was deadpan as if offering to pay for your food delivery wasn’t the most generous offer there is.
Woojins eyes widened at his Hyung “Ah sugar daddy” Ryul just shrugged while the rest praised him for the generosity. Woojin hitting his back in excitement.
“Expect your bank account to be drained by Monday” You finally looked up, rice stashed in your cheeks, a single pellet hanging on your lip. You smiled teasingly at the boy, but he didn’t flinch, he could tell you were joking but he’d seriously pay for your food, even if it was expensive, anything to keep you healthy and breathing.
“As long as you’re eating” His hand ran down from your shoulder then grazed your wrist as he pulled away. He turns his back and casually walks to his bedroom, it looked like a movie scene, straight out of a K-drama when the main character does something cool. You half expected him to throw up a peace sign to seal the deal.
“Okay I’m going to shower” Ohyul pushes off the counter. He walks off and leaves you with Woojin and Louis.
You jumped up onto the counter, feeling the coolness through your sweatpants “This is so good...” You hummed in satisfaction and stuffed the final corner into your mouth.
“Chip?” Woojin held out his bag of bbq flavored chips, it was half full, crinkled, and the seasoning dusted around the edge of the bag.
You reached in and took a handful, you could honestly eat a buffet worth of food if it was offered, your stomach felt like it hadn’t seen food for days.
“I did say chip singular” Woojins face dropped at the amount stuffed in your hand, but you couldn’t take him seriously when his cheeks were full and sticking out like a hamster.
“Leave me alone I’m fucking starving bruh” Louis giggled as he moved to your right, also digging his hand in the bag.
“You weren’t offered, get that dirty hand out” Woojin smacked the younger boy’s hand, his face was scrunched in annoyance and just stared at the two of you in disbelief. He scratches his head with his beanie, moving it back and forth. The chip bag was starting to hollow out now, the foil bottom peeking through the small pile of chips.
“Can you pass my water” Woojin watched your arm stretch out to the bottle across from you on the other end of the counter. He looks at you with one brow lifted, expecting something. Your eyes rolled followed by the slumping of your shoulders. “Please”
Woojin smiled, his cheeks making his eyes squint, pure sarcasm. He reaches behind him and grabs the bottle before handing it to you.
The cap twisted off with a pop from the pressure, the mist dissipated before you chugged half the water. “Guhh” The way you drank was animalistic, like a dehydrated dog finally finding a puddle of water. “I didn’t realize how thirsty I was either” You slumped against the backsplash, content with the feeling of your body finally getting the nourishment it needs to work.
“Stop depraving yourself of basic needs” Louis scolded you as he turned. You were taken aback by his words, sometimes you forget how wise he is. “Just call us if you really need to, we’re always here” His hand tapped your knee and your heart bloomed with warmth.
“You guys will make me cry, stop it” Your words were strained by the lump sitting low in your throat, ready to burst up into a sob. Your hands fanned your face to stop the tears filling your eyes.
Woojin and Louis just smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to do.
Your feet hit the ground as you dropped off the counter, you couldn’t help but pull them both into a group hug, squeezing them until their eyes popped.
“Yah yah yah” Woojin and Louis protested as the tight grip you held around them. They don’t have a problem with hugging but if it risked their eyes popping out their sockets or their backs braking from the pressure, they had to push back.
You released the poor boys from your grip, and they could see the tears pooling your eyes, the immense gratefulness in your expression and they couldn’t do anything but smile.
You were one of their own, a new member to their tight knit family.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
It was currently two in the morning, the dorm was dead silent, no sounds of movement or even voices carried through the hallway. The only sound you could hear was your stomach growling and screaming at you to be fed. Your body turned in the small bed, cradling your stomach.
“I’m so hungry”
You hadn’t even slept yet because the pain was so uncomfortable. There’s no food in the fridge, nothing in the cupboards besides dust and your small stash of snacks was long gone days ago.
Your phone vibrated against the mattress as the screen lit up with a notification from Instagram. Your hand lazily swung over to the device and unlocked it to reveal the message. ‘LimLou10 sent a reel’. Your finger tapped the message; it led to a video of a cat stealing food off the table followed by the text “You”.
It really didn’t help the deep waves of hunger rolling through you, stomach growling as if to remind you of its empty presence. You suddenly got out of bed and rushed through to Louis room.
It was completely dark, besides the glowing white screen reflecting on Louis face. He looked over in shock, not expecting someone to appear in his room, he looked like he had been caught.
“What the hell” He sat up, careful not to hit his head on the bunk above, and watched you walk over, hunched and holding your phone. “Are you okay?”
Your body fell onto the bed and Louis could see the delivery app shining on your phone. “You hungry?” Your lips tugged up into a genuine pleading smile. “I don’t want the driver to come all this way for just one meal”. Your eyes blinked, trying to see his reaction through the darkness.
“Sure” He shrugged and moved closer to the wall so you could shuffle up and sit beside him. He chuckled at the urgency when you moved, swiping through the restaurants that all said ‘closed’. “Nothing will be open its two in the morning” He ran a hand over his face.
“Mcdonalds” You smirked playfully, knowing he couldn’t turn it down.
He sighed, trying to act disappointed, shoulders slumped, body sinking into the mattress. “Fine” it really didn’t take much to defeat him.
“Perfect!” Your fingers danced along the screen ordering a cheeseburger meal and a box of mozzarella sticks to be safe, maybe a milkshake too.
Louis took the phone and scrolled through to order his own food, chicken selects, fries, a vanilla milkshake. Plain and simple.
“It’ll be here in thirty” You basically kicked your feet in excitement at the thought of food. Maybe it was the fact you had been dancing all day or that you hadn’t eaten much, but you were starving, possibly being a little dramatic but it felt life or death. “What should we do for thirty minutes?” Your shoulders suddenly slumped when you remembered you actually had to wait for the food.
“Reels” Louis flicked back to Instagram and started doomscrolling again. You turned to lay on your side, head on his shoulder, as you mindlessly watched with him. Video after video of memes, music and edits of himself.
“You really watch edits of yourself?”
“Shotties make them, I appreciate it” He swiped to the next video, funny dog compilation. “Just wait until you get them, you’ll understand”
You just shrugged; it never occurred to you that people would adore you enough to make edits or discuss you online in general. Would you live up to the standards of being the perfect idol. You trained so hard for so long, you can’t afford to fuck it up.
Your phone started to ring, and a jolt of excitement ran through you. The order was here!
You and Louis got up and tip toed to the door and collected the paper bags filled with delicious food. Even the smell made your stomach rumble.
“Let’s eat it in my room so we don’t wake up the others” Louis whispered and lead the way to his room.
You hooked your foot at the base of the door, swinging it closed. The two of you froze at the slam, Louis looks back, silently scolding you for the mistake.
“Fuck” The two of you stayed frozen for a beat before crouching on the floor and resting on the wood.
Cases filled with fries, chicken and mozzarella sticks scattered between you, the smell curling around you both in a delicious bubble. The lid of the cheeseburger was ripped off, and you shoved it in your mouth, covering your lips in cheese and burger sauce.
“Oh heaven” Your words were muffled by the cheeseburger, but Louis understood and laughed.
His laptop was propped up beside you playing a random sitcom as the two of you ate. You peeled the lid off your milkshake and dipped a fry. Louis raises his brow.
“You do that too?” You looked up from the laptop to see his face lit up with a smile. You looked at the milkshake then back to him.
“I like mixing sweet and salty”
Louis copies your action and you laugh. Dipping fries in your milkshake was always looked down upon, teased about. You’d never seen anyone else do it.
“Me too!”
“Shhh”
Louis outburst was a little louder than expected and you suddenly heard the faint sound of footsteps approach the door. It opens slightly and Ohyul’s head peaks through. “Louis” His voice was raspy like he’d just woken up.
The two of you stayed still like statues, mouths full of fries and milkshake. The light is flicked on and Ohyul squints, looking around for Louis. His eyes find you both, sat cross legged on the floor, food laid out between you, laptop playing quietly.
“What the fuck?” He steps into the room fully now, t-shirt hanging on his shoulders, multicolored shorts low on his hips, hair flat to his head and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Why are you eating in the dark” He stalks over and sits beside you, crossing his legs and looking at the two of you, sat straight like statues.
Truly neither of you knew why, it just turned out that way. You both shrugged and went back to chewing.
He grabs a few fries from the bunch and shoves them in his mouth. “That’s mine” You whined, watching as he chewed obnoxiously, smiling at his crime.
“Did we wake you hyung?”
Ohyul hums and nods. “I heard you shout”. He picks up your cheeseburger, takes a bite and returns it to the box, ignoring your glare.
“Sorry” Louis apologizes but continues to eat, caring more about the food.
“I preferred when he wasn’t here stealing my food” You side eyed Ohyul, still chewing your burger.
“Yeah, yeah” His face was mocking mixed with tiredness, he looked like he could fall asleep right there.
The three of you sat in silence, Ohyul continued to steal your food until you slapped him away a final time. He retreated, keeping his hands tucked in his lap, eyes staring lazily at the laptop.
“I’m full now”
The empty boxes were now stuffed into the paper bags, leaving the drinks out as the two of you continued to sip them slowly.
“Have you packed yet hyung?”
“Hmm” Ohyul jolts at the sudden question. “Oh yeah, I packed earlier before bed”
“Packed for what?” You asked, looking over at Louis as he stared at his suitcase.
“We’re going to Vietnam for a k-pulse”
“News to me, how long are you gone?”
“3 days”
“Perfect, I’ll get some alone time”
“We leave at ten”
You slammed the cup on the floor and looked at the time.
3.23am
“You should be sleeping! Why did you stay up with me?” You suddenly felt bad for not thinking about the boys’ schedules.
“You were hungry and I wanted chicken” He just smiled innocently and went back to sipping. “I’m not tired anyways, I can sleep later”
“I can’t” Ohyul mumbled beside you before his head landed on your shoulder, it was only there for a second before he fell further onto your lap, his head feeling like a cat sitting on your lap.
You sighed and started to run your fingers through his hair, absentmindedly drawing circles on his scalp. His cheek was squished on your thigh, and his arm hugged your calf, his breathing evened and he started to snore softly.
“That was fast” you mumbled, combing his hair away from his face.
“He won’t move until he wakes up, that’s your loss”
“Fuck”
You and Louis spent another hour watching the show on his laptop until the food coma hit you, your eyes suddenly feeling drowsy and your head feeling heavier than ever.
Ohyul still hadn’t moved, in fact he had snuggled closer and snored louder, it was like a white noise machine lulling you to sleep.
Louis pulled his eyes away from his phone and seen the both of you fast asleep, you sitting upright with your chin tucked to your chest, and Ohyul half on the floor and half in your lap also asleep.
He took a photo and sent it to the group chat, knowing it would be funny in the morning. He got up and turned off the light, climbing into his comfortable bed to fall asleep, leaving you both on his floor.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
The sound of a siren rang through the room, the type of siren you hear in a zombie movie before the world goes to shit and the human race is destroyed.
Your eyes shot open and you could see the white ceiling above you, your back felt knotted and stiff, legs heavy and numb, neck aching. Looking around you, you could see Woojin, Ryul and Louis stood above you, holding a phone out, playing the siren at full volume.
“What’s going on” Your eyes squint from the light and you cover your face with your arm. It felt like waking up with a hangover.
“Wake up”
“Rise and shine”
“Good Mooorniingggg”
A weight was lifted from your thigh, and you saw Ohyul with the same dazed look in his eyes. With a lot of effort, you pulled your body up and yawned.
“I can’t believe I fell asleep” You wiped the sleep from your eyes and massaged your neck. “My body hurts” You stretched forward and touched your toes, feeling the tension release in your legs.
“That’s because you fell asleep on the floor idiot” Woojin kicked your leg teasingly, making you swing aimlessly for his ankle.
“That’s his fault for using me as a human pillow”
Ohyul blinked and inhaled deeply, still feeling the remanence of sleep. “What time is it?”
“Nine” Ryul said, checking the time on his phone. “We leave in an hour”
Ohyul got up and left the room without a word.
You still sat on the ground, trying to get the feeling back in your legs. Woojin shoves his phone in your face to show the picture of you and Ohyul sleeping on the floor. You laughed while staring at the awkward position your neck was in.
“That explains my neck pain” Your hand moves to the back of your neck, trying to unravel a tight knot.
“I wish I could post this, it’s gold” Woojin stares down at the photo with a cheesy grin.
“Don’t tarnish my career before it starts” You warned.
Like an old woman, you creaked your way off the floor, holding your stiff back as you stood straight.
“I’m going to change” You announced and walked out, very slowly and visibly stiff.
“Don’t break your back on the way halmonie” Ryul teased over his shoulder.
“Don’t make that a thing, this halmonie will kick your ass” You threatened as you closed the door, blocking Ryuls comeback.
“Hey I used to box! You won’t kick my ass!” He pounds on your door with meaningless playful threats.
“I’d like to see you try” You shouted back with a smile on your face.
You threw on a pair of bootcut jeans that had embroidered pockets, paired with a black belt that had a bedazzled buckle, a black tank top and an off the shoulder, dark grey sweater.
The door to your room opened slowly before you stepped out into the hall, the room across from you was Ryuls and you could see him boxing the air.
“You training for our big fight?”
He looks over at the sound of your voice. “Scared?” He stood with his right hand fisted to his cheek while his left was in front of him, leveled to his head. He looked like a fighter in a retro arcade game.
“Come at me son!” You copied his stance, comedically bouncing on the spot.
Ryul charges at you, making you scream in fear. He swings at your sides pretending to punch you. Quickly you snap into the game and kick with your legs, hitting the outside of his calves.
“Against the rules you cheater!” He guards his legs as you continue to kick.
“Is this against the rules?” You use both your hands to mess up his hair, making his strands go static and stick up every which way.
“Hey!” He hooks his arms around your waist and lifts you in the air. Your body resembles a sack of potatoes as he slings you over his shoulder, spinning you in circles. You hit his back repeatedly, feeling the nausea hit you like a wave.
“I’m gonna throw up”
“Yah put her down Ryul” You hear a voice you could only recognize as the CEO of More Vision, The Jay park was sat in the living room, watching you wrestle with Ryul.
Ryul places you on the ground, your head spinning as you try to recollect yourself.
At the sight of Jay you bowed at a ninety-degree angle as a sign of respect. He just laughed and shook his head.
“Not even the boys do that now” He looks over the three boys present in the room, nose deep in their phones.
“We’re not scared of you anymore” Woojin sticks his tongue out at Jay then goes straight back to his phone, completely missing the scolding look Jay sent him.
“Wassup bro” Ohyul passes you and dabs up Jay, proving his previous point.
“See” Jay laughs again.
“What did I miss?” Ohyul asked, looking between you and jay.
“Nothing” he said.
Jay and the boys sat on the couch and spoke about Hanoi and their schedule, how he wasn’t going to be there, but he’d be supporting them from Seoul.
You had wandered to the kitchen, opening the fridge and stealing one of the Capri suns stuffed in the corner. You pierced the pouch and sipped through the straw, tasting the orange juice.
It would probably be best you’d stay in the kitchen while jay talks to the boys, so you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Instagram, catching up on anything you missed during the night.
“Let’s go kids” Jay got up first and rounded the others like sheep towards their luggage at the door.
You looked up from your phone and stood at the door, unlocking it and holding it open.
“Enjoy Hanoi, goodbye” You would miss them but the thought of having a quiet dorm to yourself masked the sadness.
They walked out with a chorus of ‘Goodbyes’ as they left, each of them either dabbing you up or side hugging you. It was sweet, like shipping your brothers off to school.
The front door closed behind Louis as he was the last to leave.
“Ah, silence” You stretched out your arms just like in the movies, until they dropped and you realized you were actually alone, on a day off, with nothing to do. “Fuck…”
Synopsis: On the outskirts of Seoul, Y/N’s quiet life changes when they open their home to hybrids in need. As wounded hearts find refuge under one roof, unexpected bonds and the promise of love begin to bloom.
The day unfolded quietly, each hour a gentle lesson in learning to breathe easy. Yunho woke to the golden hush of morning, sunlight slipping through the curtains and pooling on his borrowed blanket. He blinked in the unfamiliar warmth, ears pricking at the distant sound of Y/N’s footsteps and the soft clink of dishes from the kitchen. His tail, always the first to betray his mood, curled tightly around his thigh as he sat up, blinking away the remnants of uneasy sleep.
He padded softly down the hall, pausing at the kitchen door. Y/N was humming under their breath, stirring something in a pot on the stove. The scent of tea mingled with the faint sweetness of fruit, and for a moment, Yunho simply watched. His ears flicked at the gentle rise and fall of Y/N’s melody a sound that felt both impossibly strange and quietly safe.
Y/N glanced up, catching his gaze. “Good morning,” they said, voice low and easy. “You’re up early.”
Yunho’s ears twitched, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep anymore,” he admitted, tail curling tighter. He hovered near the door, unsure if he was welcome.
Y/N only smiled and nodded to the table. “You can sit if you want. Or I can bring you breakfast on the couch.”
He hesitated, then crossed the room, settling at the edge of a chair. His tail wrapped around his ankles, ears angled forward to catch every sound. Y/N poured a mug of tea and set it in front of him, careful not to crowd his space. “It’s chamomile. Might help with the nerves.”
Yunho’s hands trembled as he lifted the mug. He stole glances at Y/N, still half-waiting for a sharp word or a sigh of impatience. But Y/N only plated toast and fruit, sliding the food across the table with a steady, gentle hand. “Eat as much as you like,” they said softly.
He nibbled his breakfast in slow, cautious bites, ears flicking at every unexpected sound the whir of the fridge, the creak of the floorboards, the distant tap of rain still lingering on the windows. Y/N kept up a quiet stream of conversation, never asking anything of him, only offering small stories about the garden, the weather, or the books lining the shelves in the living room.
Bit by bit, Yunho’s tail relaxed. He found himself listening, curiosity tugging at him. When Y/N mentioned the roses blooming at the back fence, Yunho’s ears perked, and he managed a shy, “I’ve never seen roses up close before.”
Y/N’s eyes brightened. “Would you like to help me in the garden after breakfast?” they asked. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Sometimes it’s just nice to have company.”
Yunho hesitated, tail flicking back and forth, then nodded. “I… I’d like that.”
They moved out into the garden together, the grass still damp beneath Yunho’s bare feet. Dew clung to his toes and the hems of his borrowed sweatpants. Y/N showed him how to snip away dead leaves, how to check the soil for moisture, how to gently brush raindrops off the petals. Yunho watched, fascinated, ears quivering at the soft brush of petals and the distant hum of bees.
As he worked, something inside him loosened. His tail began to wag in slow, uncertain sweeps, and when Y/N praised his careful hands, his ears flushed warm with pride. Y/N never hovered, always giving him space, but their presence was steady a quiet anchor in the shifting landscape of Yunho’s nerves.
They lingered outside until the sun rose high, warming Yunho’s skin and coaxing the first real smile from him since he’d arrived. His tail wagged more freely now, and when Y/N laughed at a bumblebee getting tangled in a daisy, Yunho joined in, the sound startling both of them into a brief, shared grin.
They returned inside for lunch, Yunho’s tail swaying behind him as he followed. He helped slice vegetables, ears angling forward with concentration as Y/N demonstrated how to hold the knife. When he got flustered, Y/N only reassured him, “It’s okay. There’s no rush here.”
After lunch, Yunho curled up in the sunroom, tail wrapped around his knees. Y/N sat nearby with a book, reading aloud in a soft, even voice. Yunho’s eyes drifted shut, soothed by the rhythm of the words and the gentle warmth of afternoon light. Every so often, Y/N paused, glancing over to make sure Yunho was still comfortable. If Yunho’s ears twitched or his tail thumped anxiously, Y/N would lower their voice, never forcing conversation or touch.
Later, Y/N suggested a board game. Yunho’s ears perked with interest but drooped when he fumbled the rules. “Sorry,” he mumbled, tail going still.
“You’re doing great,” Y/N said, voice kind. “There are no winners or losers here. Just us.”
Encouraged, Yunho tried again. With every small success, his tail wagged a little more, and his ears stood taller. By the end of the game, he was even bold enough to tease Y/N about their “sneaky house rules,” earning a playful nudge and a genuine laugh.
As the day faded to dusk, they cooked dinner together, moving around each other with growing ease. Yunho’s tail brushed against Y/N’s leg once, and instead of pulling away, he let it linger, comforted by the contact. His ears caught every soft word of encouragement, every gentle instruction.
They ate dinner by the window, watching the first stars appear. Yunho’s tail curled contentedly around the leg of his chair. When Y/N offered dessert just a simple dish of fruit and honey Yunho’s ears flicked in surprise, a small, happy wag betraying his delight.
Afterward, they settled on the couch together, Yunho curled at one end, Y/N at the other. Their feet brushed in the middle, and Yunho’s tail draped lazily over the blanket. He watched Y/N with open curiosity now, ears flicking at every new story, every quiet laugh.
As the evening settled around them, Yunho stretched out on the couch, tail flicking contentedly over the cushion. Y/N reached for their book, but before they could open it, Yunho hesitated, glancing sideways with a nervous but hopeful glimmer in his eyes.
Slowly, he scooted closer, then shyly rested his head on Y/N’s lap. His golden ears twitched, and his tail thumped once, then again, gaining confidence.
“Um…” he mumbled, cheeks tinged with pink, “Can I… have pets? Please?”
Y/N’s heart melted. They set the book aside and gently ran their fingers through Yunho’s hair, scratching lightly behind his ears. Yunho’s eyes fluttered closed, ears leaning into every touch, tail wagging in slow, blissful sweeps along the couch.
He let out a deep, contented sigh, tension slipping from his shoulders. “That’s nice,” he whispered, voice soft and full of wonder. “You’re really good at this.”
Y/N smiled, continuing the slow, soothing strokes. “You deserve it. As much as you want.”
With his head in Y/N’s lap, ears flicking happily and tail wagging, Yunho finally let himself believe that here, safe and cherished, he really could find peace.
Before bed, Yunho lingered in the hall, tail swaying by his ankles. “Thank you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N smiled, gentle and true. “You’re safe here, Yunho. I’m glad you’re with me.”
His ears stood tall, tail wagging softly. For the first time, Yunho believed it might be true.
It was just after midnight when another storm rolled in, thunder grumbling low, rain drumming on the mansion’s windows. Yunho was curled on the couch, half-asleep, when he heard it: a frantic, scraping noise at the back door. He jolted upright, heart pounding, haunted by old fears. Y/N was already awake, moving quietly through the hall, a flashlight in one hand and the other free in case Yunho needed to cling to it.
They opened the door to a wall of rain and, in the garden’s half-light, a blur of motion: a figure darting beneath the eaves, soaked to the bone, wild-eyed and desperate. Maine Coon ears flattened against tangled hair, claws digging into the slick earth.
Y/N knelt on the threshold, voice barely rising above the storm. “It’s okay. You’re safe. Come inside.”
The hybrid bared his teeth. “Don’t touch me!” His voice cracked with panic, the words as much a plea as a warning. “You’re not gonna send me back….I’d rather die out here, you hear me?”
Lightning flashed, illuminating San's face. Mud streaked his cheeks. He shook with cold and fury, every line of his body a threat and a promise: I won’t be hurt again.
Behind him, another shadow materialized, tall, rigid, a Doberman hybrid with sharp, vigilant eyes. Yeosang. He hovered at the edge of the light, hands balled into fists, gaze fixed on San’s trembling form. It was clear he’d followed not for himself but to protect the one in front of him.
Y/N’s heart broke at the sight. “No one’s sending you anywhere. If you want shelter, you’re welcome to it. If you want food, it’s yours. You don’t have to stay, but you don’t have to run.”
San hesitated, breath hitching as thunder shook the ground. His glare never wavered, but it flickered just once with exhausted fear. “You say that now, but people always lie. They always hurt us in the end. Why…why are you being nice?”
Y/N’s voice was raw with honesty. “Because I know what it’s like to be alone. And I don’t want you to feel that way anymore, if I can help it.”
For the first time, San’s bravado cracked. He sagged to his knees, shoulders shaking with silent sobs he tried and failed to choke back. Rain plastered his hair to his face, and he clawed at the doorframe, torn between fleeing and falling apart.
Yeosang stepped forward then, kneeling in the mud beside San. He didn’t speak, just wrapped an arm around San’s shoulders, letting the Maine Coon bury his face against his chest and weep. The doberman’s own eyes glistened, jaw clenched, fighting not to break down himself.
Y/N reached out, hand hovering but not touching. “Come inside. Both of you. Please.”
Something shattered in the space between them, a dam of grief and longing, and San let himself be helped inside, Yeosang never letting go. The kitchen's warmth was too much. San sobbed harder, shaking, as Y/N handed him a towel and Yunho, silent, wide-eyed, offered a mug of tea with trembling hands.
No words could fix what the world had done to them, but in that moment, all four stood together, broken and shivering, and the mansion finally felt less empty.
Yunho, still shaken and remembering his own first night, stepped forward with uncertain but genuine kindness. "The bathroom is down the hall," he said softly to San and Yeosang, his voice wavering but warm. "There’s hot water. I can show you if you want."
San, still sniffling, bristled at first, but Yeosang gave him a gentle squeeze, and Yunho’s quietly earnest presence seemed to make it a little easier to accept help. Yunho led them down the hall, grabbing the biggest towels he could find and rummaging in the guest closet for old, soft clothes that might fit. He set them on the counter, then ducked back out, giving San and Yeosang as much privacy as they needed.
Meanwhile, Y/N moved through the kitchen with practiced purpose, setting out mugs of tea, a pot of soup to reheat, and a plate of bread and fruit. The clatter of dishes echoed softly, a wordless promise of care. They kept glancing at the hallway, hearts aching for the two new souls and the trust it would take for them to stay.
When San and Yeosang finally emerged damp-haired and wrapped in too-big shirts and sweatpants, Yunho met them at the end of the hall. He offered a shy, supportive smile, remembering what it had meant to be welcomed. Together, they walked back to the kitchen, where warmth and food waited, and where just maybe healing could begin.
San and Yeosang entered the kitchen together, still wrapped in borrowed clothes, hair damp and eyes rimmed red. The hush in the room was heavy, broken only by the clink of a spoon as Y/N ladled steaming soup into bowls and set out mugs of tea. Yunho hovered close, not sure where to stand, wanting to help without crowding.
San hesitated at the threshold, his tail flicking anxiously behind him. Yeosang’s hand never left his shoulder. Y/N met their eyes with a gentleness that asked nothing, only offered. “You’re safe. Sit wherever you like.”
Wordlessly, San dropped into the nearest chair, every muscle taut. Yeosang sat beside him, posture stiff but vigilant, watching both Y/N and Yunho for any sign of threat. Yunho slid into the seat across from them, hands knotted in his lap.
Y/N placed the bowls and mugs in front of them, then sat next to Yunho, keeping enough distance to give them space. The food’s warmth filled the air, but for a long moment, no one moved. San stared at his soup, jaw clenched. Yeosang reached over and nudged the bowl closer to him. “Eat,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “You need it.”
With a shaky breath, San picked up his spoon, hands trembling. The first taste brought tears to his eyes he blinked them away, refusing to let them fall, but each bite seemed to chip away at the wall around his heart. Yeosang ate in silence, gaze flicking to San, then to Yunho, then to Y/N, as if waiting for the world to twist.
After a few moments, Y/N offered a gentle smile. “Why don’t we introduce ourselves properly?”
There was a pause, but then Yunho nodded. “I’m Yunho.” He offered a reassuring look around the table. “I just got here recently too.”
San wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, managing a small, shaky grin. “San,” he said, voice quiet but growing steadier. “Thanks for the food.”
Yeosang hesitated, then spoke in a soft tone. “Yeosang.”
Y/N smiled warmly at all of them. “And I’m Y/N. I’m glad you’re all here.”
For a moment, the dining table felt less like unfamiliar territory and more like the start of something hopeful.
Yunho offered a small, encouraging smile, remembering too well the taste of hunger and suspicion. “It’s good, isn’t it?” he said, voice quiet, hoping to make things feel normal, if only for a moment.
San nodded, unable to speak. Yeosang gave a curt, grateful dip of his head. The silence was thick but not hostile; there was space in it for pain, and in that space, something softer began to grow.
Y/N refilled tea, moving slowly and never pushing conversation. “There’s more if you want it. You can have as much as you need.”
As the meal wore on, the tension eased by fractions. San’s tail lay still on the chair. Yeosang’s shoulders dropped a little. Yunho relaxed enough to take a sip of tea. For a fleeting moment, even surrounded by so much hurt, it almost felt like the beginning of home.
After the meal, Y/N couldn’t help noticing the bruises darkening San’s arms and the way Yeosang winced whenever he shifted in his seat. Quietly, Y/N fetched the first aid kit and set it gently on the table. “Would you let me help patch you up?” they asked, voice low and careful. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”
San recoiled, his Maine Coon ears flattening almost defensively, claws digging into the wood. “Don’t touch me,” he spat, every word shaking with fear and pride. “I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.”
As Y/N gently set the kit down, San swatted at them too quickly, his claws scratching Y/N’s wrist, leaving claw marks. The pain flashed across Y/N’s face, but they didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, they only offered a small, sad smile, tucking their hand close as if nothing had happened.
Yeosang’s eyes flashed, hard and protective. “We don’t need anything from you. Just leave us alone,” he added, voice cold but trembling at the edges.
Y/N’s heart twisted at the pain in their voices, but they only nodded, pushing the kit a little closer. “It’s here if you change your mind,” Y/N said softly. “I’ll give you space.”
Y/N retreated to their room, the door closing softly behind them. They sat on the edge of the bed, heads in their hands, fighting the sting of tears, the helplessness of wanting to help.
Not long after, there was a tentative knock. Yunho peeked in, holding the first aid kit. “Um… can I come in?”
Y/N nodded, mustering a small smile as Yunho entered. Without a word, Yunho sat beside them, opening the kit and gently tending to the scratch on Y/N’s wrist. His touch was gentle, careful in a way that said he remembered what it felt like to be afraid of kindness.
“You did your best,” Yunho said quietly, taping the last bandage in place. “They’re just scared. You’re… really good at this, you know? At making people feel safe. Even if they can’t see it yet.”
Y/N let out a shaky breath, the praise both soothing and bittersweet. “I just want them to feel like they belong. Like they don’t have to run.”
“They will,” Yunho said, voice soft but certain. “I’ll tell them. I’ll show them.” He squeezed Y/N’s hand. “You helped me. I want to help them, too.”
A little later, Yunho found San and Yeosang in the living room, both looking lost and wary. He sat nearby, not too close. “Y/N… they’re not like other humans. They’ll give you space if you need it, and help if you want it. They really care. I didn’t believe it at first either, but… I do now.”
San looked away, jaw clenched, but his ears flicked in Yunho’s direction. Yeosang’s gaze lingered on Yunho for a long, searching moment, and some of the tension in his posture ebbed just a little.
It wasn’t trust, not yet. But it was a start.
Later, as the house fell quiet and Yunho’s footsteps faded down the hall, Yunho lingered in the doorway where San and Yeosang sat, silent and frayed around the edges. The first aid kit felt heavy in his hands, a symbol of something he’d once refused to.
He approached slowly, sitting cross-legged on the floor nearby so he wouldn’t seem threatening. “You should let me patch you up,” he said quietly, voice careful and earnest. “You don’t have to talk. I just… I know it hurts.”
San bristled at first, but the raw scrape on his arm and the ache in his side made him hesitate. Yeosang watched Yunho warily, but when Yunho only waited, not pushing, San finally muttered, “Fine. Just… don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Yunho worked in silence, movements gentle and practiced. He held out the antiseptic. “This might sting a little,” he warned, and San hissed but didn’t pull away. For every wince, Yunho murmured quiet reassurances, the same ones Y/N had once used on him. When he was done with San, he turned to Yeosang, who eyed him for a long moment before nodding once, curt and grateful in his own way.
When the last bandage was in place, Yunho packed the kit and sat back, offering a small, tired smile. “Y/N means it, you know. This place… It’s not like the others.”
San just grunted, but his eyes were softer, the lines of anger replaced by exhaustion and something almost like hope. Yeosang didn’t speak, but he didn’t move away either.
In the hush that followed, Yunho left them the kit and a folded blanket before quietly heading back to his own room, heart heavy but hopeful. It wasn’t trust yet. But it was a step, and sometimes that was all anyone could offer.
San sat in silence, eyes fixed on the bandages now covering his scrapes. The antiseptic still tingled, but the warmth of Yunho’s careful touch lingered longer, a comfort he didn’t know how to accept, or even want. He flexed his hand, staring at the clean white gauze, and let out a shaky breath.
Yeosang watched him, quiet and unreadable in the dim light. For a long moment, neither spoke. The silence pressed in, heavy with exhaustion and things neither of them wanted to admit.
Finally, San broke it, voice rough. “Do you think… Do you think it’s real? This place?”
Yeosang’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen, where the distant clatter of dishes could still be heard. “I don’t know,” he said, softer than before. “But Yunho… He doesn’t seem like he’s pretending.”
San hugged the blanket closer. “I don’t know how to stop waiting for the catch. Feels like if I let myself believe, it’ll hurt worse when it’s gone.”
Yeosang nodded, the muscles in his jaw tight. “Then we don’t believe yet. But… we rest. Just for tonight.”
San hesitated, then leaned into Yeosang’s side just a little. Yeosang let him, wrapping an arm around San’s shoulders and pulling him close.
In another room, Y/N sat with their own thoughts, the scratch on their wrist throbbing in time with the ache in their heart. And elsewhere in the house, Yunho curled up on the couch, holding hope close and whispering silent promises to the dark: I’ll help them heal, just like you helped me.
San lay curled beneath the blanket, eyes fixed on the moonlit ceiling. Every muscle ached with exhaustion, but sleep wouldn’t come. He could still feel Yunho’s gentle hands tending his wounds, the way Y/N’s voice had trembled with kindness even after he’d lashed out. The scratch he’d left on Y/N’s wrist burned in his memory, sharp with guilt.
Why did they care? Why didn’t they push back, or get angry, or lock him out in the rain like everyone else had? He didn’t know how to trust it. Every kindness felt like a trick, every soft word a prelude to cruelty. But Yunho’s eyes had been honest, and Y/N’s hands had been steady, even when they must have been hurting.
He wanted to believe. He wanted to rest. But hope was dangerous; he knew that better than anyone. Still, as Yeosang shifted beside him, arm heavy and reassuring around his shoulders, San let himself close his eyes and, just for a moment, pretended that safety was real.
Yeosang listened to San’s breathing, his own thoughts tangled and restless. He’d learned to be a shield, not a comfort; survival meant staying alert, never relaxing, never trusting. But Yunho’s quiet words echoed in his mind, softening something he hadn’t realized was so brittle.
He wanted to scoff, to dismiss it as naïveté. But Yunho had looked at him with the certainty of someone who had survived the same storms, and Yeosang couldn’t bring himself to turn away. He tightened his arm around San, vowing to protect him no matter what, even if it meant risking disappointment.
For the first time in months, Yeosang allowed himself to imagine a tomorrow where he didn’t have to fight so hard. He listened to the quiet house, the gentle rhythm of San’s breathing, and let hope creep in, slow and trembling, but real.
Tonight, that would be enough.
Two weeks passed, each day softening the edges of fear and distrust that had once filled the house. The change was slow, almost imperceptible, measured in quiet mornings, hesitant laughter, and simple acts of care.
San was the first to test the boundaries of safety. He started leaving his door open at night, venturing into the kitchen when he couldn’t sleep, sometimes finding Y/N there with a mug of tea and a willingness to sit in silence. He never apologized for that first scratch, but one morning, he quietly handed Y/N a bandage before breakfast, eyes averted but tail flicking with something like remorse. Y/N just smiled and thanked him, and the moment passed without fanfare.
Yeosang remained vigilant, always watching, always listening. But his posture changed; the tension in his shoulders eased when Y/N entered the room, and he no longer flinched when someone reached for the salt or brushed past him in the hall. Sometimes, Y/N found him in the garden at dusk, staring at the city lights. They’d stand beside him without speaking, respecting the silence, and Yeosang would let himself breathe just a little deeper.
Yunho flourished most of all. He became Y/N’s quiet shadow, helping in the kitchen, playing soft music in the afternoons, coaxing San and Yeosang into joining little routines: folding laundry, watering plants, even watching old movies together in the living room. There were still bad nights, still flinches and nightmares, but the mansion grew warmer, laughter echoing where once there had only been echoes.
The four of them began to move through the house almost like a pack, not quite trusting the word, but building something close to it. Meals became a shared ritual, and even San started to leave his bowl in the sink with a gruff “thanks.” Yeosang took to reading in the sunroom, sometimes letting Y/N or Yunho sit nearby without protest. The walls that separated them didn’t crumble, but they became doors sometimes closed, sometimes ajar, but always with the possibility of being opened.
It was just as the ache of old wounds began to fade, when the mansion truly felt like home, that a new shadow appeared on the doorstep: broad-shouldered, trembling with exhaustion, and too gentle for a world that had never been kind.
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