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cherrykpawp · 6 days ago

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Heat // Ch 10.5

Rating: Explicit, Mature (M)

Pairings: Mingi x reader

This chapter includes: hybrids, Afab!reader, reader-centric, smut, fluff, Calico hybrid!reader, Husky hybrid!Mingi, switch!reader, switch!Mingi, Ruts (Mingi), cunnilingus (f receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex (WRAP IT!), begging, pet names (Princess, Baby), praise kinks, dirty talk, possessiveness, submission, hair pulling, squirt, swearing, biting, love bites, eye contact, scent kink (Mingi), size kink, face sitting, pictures, video recording, somnophilia (consent given i.e chapter 8), 69

Taglist: @m-flowerjunnie-oa, @mrsminseochoi, @strawwff, @sunlight120902, @awkward-fucking-thing, @menialmoonchild, @jjongsho, @chanscase143, @lililiarina, @babyquokkasworld, @rileylovescats

WC: 6.5k

MDNI!!

Today was a lazy day for you—the first in a while. Since the moment you woke up, you’ve been in your room, mindlessly scrolling through YouTube. For some reason, your bed felt extra comfortable, the air was a bit chilly, and the warmth of your blanket didn’t want to let you go. But like any normal person, after hours of lounging in bed, you started to get hungry. You checked the time on your phone and realized it was already 2 p.m., and you hadn’t properly started your day. All you had done since waking up was shower, brush your teeth, and then lie back down.

You left your phone on the bed, yawning as you padded down the hallway and the stairs leading to the living room. San was on the floor, completely absorbed in a game playing on the TV. Not wanting to disturb him—especially since you were feeling a bit starved and craving a hot meal—you shuffled your way to the kitchen, your tail wrapped around your waist for warmth. You scanned the fridge for a snack while mentally planning a lunch that both you and the boys would enjoy.

Yunho had restocked your favorite fruits when he went grocery shopping the other day, but you noticed an unexpected addition—strawberries. You hadn’t seen those in a while. Now you could add some variety to your usual mix.

Gathering some pineapple, melon, grapes, and now strawberries, you brought them over to the counter to make a small fruit salad. As you began preparing the fruit, a list of lunch ideas ran through your head—you were thinking about what everyone liked and didn’t like. Since strawberries weren’t in season, you cut into one to check its ripeness. To your surprise, it was incredibly sweet.

Maybe you’ll share with them.

You must’ve been so deep in thought that you didn’t notice Mingi leaning against the kitchen doorway, quietly watching you go about your day. He had been there since the moment you opened the fridge, gathering your fruit. To him, Yunho’s oversized shirt looked perfect on you, the way it fell just below the hem of your shorts. But it was your scent that really stopped all the gears in his head—he ached to be nestled against your scent gland.

When you finally noticed him, you startled slightly, not expecting anyone to be there. He was wearing his glasses today—probably not in the mood for contacts. A black tank top and gray sweatpants hung comfortably on him, his ears perked high atop his head while his tail swayed steadily behind him.

“Afternoon, Mingi,” you greeted him warmly, continuing to slice strawberries and drop them into the bowl beside you. The taller male mumbled a soft “afternoon” in return, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Did you just wake up?” you asked.

He shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No… I’ve been up for a while now.” His voice had dropped a few octaves, sounding deeper—more baritone than usual.

“Strawberries, huh?”

“I know, they’re so sweet. Do you want one?” You held one out to him, but Mingi shook his head, declining the offer. You simply shrugged and placed it into the bowl instead.

He shuffled behind you, towering over you as he rested his palms on either side of you on the counter.

“Comfortable?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. You adored his clinginess. You cuddled with San often because of naps, but the time you spent with Mingi was just as comforting. Even without sleeping, his presence—and the steady rhythm of his heart—always soothed you.

“Mhm,” he hummed, leaning in to breathe in your scent. The need to be close to you clawed at his chest.

It was quiet for a while, the only sounds being the soft chopping of fruit and San’s faint groan of frustration from the living room as he lost his game. Mingi rested his chin on your shoulder, finally settling into the spot he’d wanted to be all along. It didn’t take you long to notice how hot he felt—his body practically burning through your shirt.

You stopped cutting the fruit, reaching behind you with your free hand to feel his face and neck. “You’re burning up,” you murmured, startled by the heat radiating off him.

Mingi chuckled softly, though he probably shouldn’t have been trying to be witty at a time like this. “I know,” he said, gripping the counter a little tighter as he leaned more of his weight into you.

“Are you in rut?” you whispered, your voice low so no one else would hear.

You felt him nod against your shoulder, his forehead settling into the crook of your neck. “I meant to tell you,” he mumbled, closing his eyes, “but I kept forgetting.” He let out a soft breath. “I was wondering… if you’d help me.”

“You know I would,” you reassured him without a trace of hesitation. “Let’s go.”

But Mingi didn’t move. Instead, he pressed himself closer to you against the counter. “Can I scent you? Just for a minute?”

You tilted your head to the side, offering more of yourself to him. You couldn’t see it, but his eyes had fluttered shut, lost in a quiet trance. Gently, he moved your hair aside to expose your scent gland, his other hand gripping the counter for control.

You couldn’t focus on cutting fruit anymore—your priority had shifted completely to helping Mingi through his rut. Still, despite knowing it would be better to head to his room, you let him linger, soaking in your pheromones for a little longer.

“Do you need me now?” You checked in with him after standing there quietly for about two minutes.

You felt him shrug against you, “If you’re hungry, I can wait…” his words trailing off, a hint of a whine escaped his lips involuntarily. “However… I don’t mind staying here, close to your scent.”

Mingi’s eyes slowly opened when he felt your tail press against the tent in his pants behind you. Your back was turned to him, and the subtle way you teased him without outright acting on it made him grip the counter even tighter. You could see his fingertips turn white from the effort to hold himself back. He pressed against your backside and tail, slowly grinding into you. Then he began kissing your scent gland, his hands roaming freely over your body.

Keeping your voice low, you spoke in a hushed voice. “Mingi, wait.”

The husky hybrid stopped moving. Instead, he pushed your fruits, bowl, and utensils further down the counter. Then he spun you around to face him, lifting you by your hips and settling you onto the counter so that you were eye-level with him. Mingi positioned himself between your legs, resting on his palms just inches away from your face, listening intently to whatever you had to say next.

“We—aren’t you hungry?”

Mingi nodded, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips. Then he leaned in for a long, passionate kiss, gently pressing you back against the cupboard. Your hands instinctively went to his shoulders, letting him take the lead. Your tongues brushed against each other, drawing a soft whine from Mingi. Kissing was one of your favorite ways to show affection and express your feelings. But you pulled away first, making him chase your lips desperately.

“Do you want some fruit before we start?”

Mingi shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “After tasting the sweetest strawberry there is, everything else tastes sour in comparison.”

His words made you flush, and you cupped your cheek with your hand.

“O-okay,” you stammered, suddenly feeling warm all over.

Seizing the moment, Mingi lifted your shirt and tucked his head beneath the stretchy fabric. You couldn’t see his face except through the collar of your shirt, but you could tell he was still scenting you, nuzzling his face into your torso.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though he didn’t answer, adjusting his face against your neck.

You let him, running your hands down his back to comfort the whining hybrid. Everyone acts differently during their ruts or heats—maybe he was just quieter during his. Mingi’s ears twitched with every touch, and he sighed softly into your skin.

“Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” Mingi asked from beneath your shirt.

“Because I didn’t feel like wearing one,” you answered honestly. “Why are you under my shirt like this?”

“Scenting. Comfortable,” Mingi mumbled plainly into your neck, accidentally bumping himself against your legs. Even the smallest bit of friction felt amazing. “Easier, too.”

“Mingi, get out of my shirt,” you giggled at his adorable antics. He obeyed, though you could tell he was desperate to get back under already. You gently removed his glasses from his face, setting them on the counter. “At least take these off—you’re going to break them like that.”

Without a word, Mingi lifted your shirt back up, exposing your bare chest to him. He didn’t hesitate to kiss the valley of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your pert bud. You had to stifle a moan, shying away from him as he made out with your nipple. Your hunger for food vanished for now, consumed by something else entirely.

“Let’s go to your room,” you bit down on a moan, feeling him switch nipples. He didn’t budge, as if your words didn’t register. “Mingi, San’s in the other room, and I think Yunho’s here.”

“So?” he shrugged, hiking your shirt up higher on your chest.

“So,” you lightly slapped his chest. “Have some decorum. Let’s go to your room.”

“They’re going to hear us anyway.”

“Mingi.” You said sternly, and his ears instantly went into airplane mode at the tone of your voice.

Mingi lowered your shirt, scooping you up off the counter and into his arms. You hadn’t expected to be carried, but you held onto him tightly, assuming he was taking you to his room. Instead, he veered up the stairs, heading toward your room as San slowly slipped out of sight in the living room.

“Your room is…” you started, but there was no point in stopping him now—he was already halfway up the staircase.

“Want to be surrounded by you,” he murmured, referring to your room filled with your pheromones, eager to drown in your scent.

Mingi plopped you down onto your bed, hovering above your sprawled-out form before diving in to kiss you passionately, now with a hint of hunger. His rut had officially taken hold—he was all over you, driven by instinct and desire. He pushed your shirt up again, cycling between kissing your lips, playing with your nipples, or planting random pecks across any exposed skin. Occasionally, his teeth would graze against your scent gland, sending shivers through you.

When he went for it again, your fingers threaded into his hair, holding him in place.

“You can bite,” you murmured, placing a soft kiss on his temple. “But… can I bite you too?”

“Please,” Mingi whined, licking at your gland in anticipation.

The very tips of his faint canines scratched your skin, searching carefully for the right place to bite. As he lingered there, looking for the perfect spot, you pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, preparing to bite his gland—until you felt his teeth sink into your skin first. Your body melted beneath him, more pliant, obedient, and aching with need. A soft mewl escaped your lips as you stroked the back of his head, comforting him through it. Eventually, he released your neck, pressing gentle kisses over the tender spot to soothe it.

You eased his collar out of the way, spotting his scent gland. Without hesitation, you closed your eyes and bit down.

His pheromones—Egyptian musk and cocoa butter—bled onto your tongue, warm and ghostly, though no blood was drawn. ’So this is why he enjoys it so much’, you thought. The flavor of his scent was rich and grounding, now you didn’t want to let go. But when you heard him whine softly, you eased off, licking the mark you’d left behind.

Now, both of you were fully submerged in that sub headspace, overwhelmed by a need that went deeper than instinct.

“Do me a favor,” Mingi murmured between a long, heated kiss, his lips leaving yours with a tug on your lower lip. He pushed your shirt back up over your chest, then guided on of your hands there. “Hold this.”

You obeyed, casually pinning the fabric above your chest. Your hips moved by themselves, trying to entice him—which was his plan.

He was hungry for something else now. And that something just so happened to be you.

Slipping his fingers beneath the band of your shorts, Mingi tugged them down your legs and tossed them aside onto the bed. You were still wearing your panties, though they were soaked through with your arousal. He began tracing slow, deliberate shapes over your clit through the thin fabric, watching how you reacted. The light pressure had you naturally spreading your legs wider for him, fingers curling tightly into the bunched-up shirt you held above your chest.

Satisfied with your reaction, he proceeded to remove your soaked panties, revealing your slicked pussy in all its glory. Mingi wasted no time; he had a mission, pinning your thighs against your abdomen.

His entire tongue covered your cunt, licking long stripes from bottom up. Mingi swiped his wet muscle across your heat, making smacking noises with his lips. You let out a shaky, echoed exhale, curling your toes as he closed his eyes and ate you out. Mingi could spend the entire day giving you head if it just meant tasting you completely. Ever since San shared his first lap of your essence during your heat, he’s been addicted. Just being enveloped by your pheromones had him folding.

You didn’t want him to remove his lips from you; the way he was eating you out had your hips following wherever they went. Whenever he ate you out, it felt like he was making out with you, his tongue trying to taste every inch of you. With his eyes closed and his attention focused on pleasing you, you felt the urge to take a picture to save this moment for later.

You reached for your phone, gasping as he licked up to your clit several more times. Biting down on your bottom lip, you switched to the camera app, focusing it on him. The stimulation made your hands shaky, and you struggled to press the photo button. When you finally took the shot, you captured a picture of him in the middle of dragging his tongue slowly along your slick pussy.

Except your ringer was off.

Mingi’s ears turned toward the source of the noise, pulling him out of his trance. When his eyes landed on you, you were scrambling to turn your ringer on, not even sure how to do it.

“S-sorry. You just looked… so— I wanted…” Your words jumbled together as you saw Mingi reach for your phone.

He switched to a different setting in the camera app, changing to video mode, and pressed record before handing it back to you.

“Hold it up,” he muttered, adjusting your angle before retreating to his original position between your legs.

Looking at your phone, you saw his eyes burning through the camera lens, almost like he was staring right at you through it. He spread your folds with his fingers, pressing the tip of his tongue against your clit. God, you didn’t know whether to keep your eyes on the phone or him directly; either way, his gaze was dark and intimidating. You moaned and moaned until your throat grew sore. Every time a new gush of slick left your core, it was Mingi’s job to lap up every bit.

He gathered some of your slick on his tongue, raising his head to show the camera the string of his saliva connecting from your core to his mouth. You mimicked the way he swallowed your essence, catching the subtle bob of his Adam’s apple.

He only paused briefly, massaging your bundle of nerves with firm, consistent circles as he kissed along the skin of your vulva and lower abdomen. Your hips jerked gently at the tickling sensation of his lips on your hip bone, biting back a mewl.

You pulled him closer with your legs, wanting his mouth back on you. When you waved your cunt in his face, his lips followed like a magnet, pinning your legs harder against your abdomen. He closed his eyes, poking his tongue into your entrance to reach the main source of your arousal. Your grip weakened, dropping your phone on your chest as you could no longer hold it to keep recording. Mingi noticed how you pulled Yunho’s shirt over your face, stuck in a mantra of his name as you moaned.

Pausing one more time, Mingi picked up the phone to see if it was still recording. He flipped the camera, capturing how glistened your cunt was from the mix of his saliva and your slick. His fingers ran up and down your labia, teasing your entrance by nudging the tips of fingers inside. He wanted to finger you, but he also tried to get you off with his tongue. The way you looked made him think that maybe he should just stick to eating you out. When he panned the camera up to you, from his point of view, you looked wrecked. With your eyes gleaming against the lens, you pleaded for Mingi to touch you, to finish you off because you were so close.

Mingi turned the camera back toward himself, settled comfortably between your legs again, and dove his tongue back into you. You reminded yourself that this was his rut, and that he should be the one receiving the attention right now, but the way his mouth worked against your cunt had your thoughts short-circuiting. You didn’t want him to hurt, yet you also didn’t want him to stop. Mingi himself was enjoying you far too much.

You reached for his hair, tugging on it as your toes curled. “Mingi, baby, can I cum?” you whined, feeling him growl against your cunt.

He wasn’t slowing down in the slightest, still firmly grasping the phone to record his tongue working on you. He mumbled words of approval, bringing you closer with little suckles to your clit. Once he heard your octaves rising, he dropped the phone on the bed, closing your thighs around his head as he felt your arousal drench the sheets below him.

You struggled to catch your breath, covering your face with your shirt as Mingi drank you. You felt his tongue lick up from your inner thighs to your labia, making sure to gather every drop. He showed no intention of stopping anytime soon. The way his tongue teased you felt deliberate, squeezing your thighs tighter against his head.

“M-Mingi, what about you— woah!” You were interrupted as he rolled onto his back, now suddenly on top of him.

You hovered over his face, your pussy just a few centimeters away from his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your legs, trying to pull you down, but you resisted.

“Sit down, princess,” Mingi instructed, his eyes laser-focused on your glistening cunt hovering over him, trapped in a trance.

You pushed against him, settling on his chest as he met your gaze. His hands ran along your thighs, his pupils blown wide, staring at you as if he had no thoughts other than how to please you.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.” Mingi shook his head, trying to pull you closer. “Won’t it hurt?”

Mingi’s irises appeared completely black, consumed by lust and the taste of you.

“It won’t, please,” he coaxed. You hesitated—not only because you didn’t want to smother him but also because he was ignoring his rut entirely.

“…Teach me,” you said. If you were going to do this, you at least wanted to do it safely.

Mingi bit his bottom lip, nodding. “Like you’re riding, I’ll take care of the work.”

Hesitant, you hovered over his lips again, watching as he wrapped his arms around your thighs with need. You only lowered yourself slightly, supporting your weight with your knees.

Mingi growled softly. ”Fully,” he instructed, squeezing your skin.

Deciding to give him what he wanted, you settled your full weight onto his face, glancing down to see his eyes closed once more. Immediately, his tongue delved back into you, forcing you to brace yourself against the headboard in front of you.

“Oh… Oh…” All your concerns slipped from your mind.

Your hips moved on their own, still careful not to suffocate him. Just as he said—he would do the work. You’ve never sat on anyone’s face before, and honestly, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t tried it sooner. Mingi’s arms tightened around your thighs as his tongue explored your slick walls, his lips making slurping, wet noises against your core.

Before you, Mingi’s cock stood painfully hard, fully erect beneath his gray sweats. Of course, his rut was affecting him, but the thought of you cumming from giving San oral during your heat had him wondering if he could achieve that same thing himself.

A thick, dark gray patch had formed at the top of his sweats, precum steadily leaking down his length. He couldn’t fuck you without first satisfying his craving. Every wave of your slick made him twitch, bringing him to the edge of his release—only for it to melt away.

He couldn’t lie—he wanted you wrapped around him so badly, to the point he was fucking the air. Every time your breath hitched, or you let out a high-pitched whine, lifting your while riding his tongue, he mimicked you, bucking into nothing. He felt your tail brush under his shirt, dragging lightly across his chest while your hands stayed busy. One hand fisted a handful of Mingi’s hair as you rolled your hips, while the other cupped your full breast, fondling it. You massaged the hardened bud between your index and middle fingers, shuddering when Mingi’s nose bumped against your clit. He hadn’t meant to do it, but he noticed the way you jolted every time it happened.

You felt like you were drifting, blissfully lost in the moment, but you knew Mingi still needed to be taken care of.

“Mingi, baby, wait,” you whined, pulling him from his haze of desire. “Let me help you.”

He licked his lips and nodded, releasing your thighs so you could adjust. Your legs felt like jelly, but you managed to turn around and straddle his chest, now facing his lower half. You moved your tail out of the way and glanced back at him. Mingi looked utterly enraptured, and he barely did anything to satisfy his rut.

He really must love how you taste.

“Are you ready?” You rubbed his arms, giving him a moment to breathe—considering he’d tried to suffocate himself.

If he felt like you weren’t fully sitting on him, he’d pull you closer and closer.

“Yes, Princess,” he said, sticking his tongue out for you as you settled back onto his face. Using his hand, he spread your thighs wide, his fingers parting your folds as he picked up where he left off.

He continued his assault on your core as if nothing had happened, with the same vigor and precision. Your hands rested on his ribs, balancing yourself as your legs trembled around him.

As you tried to steady yourself, you were faced with a massive tent in his pants, and your jaw dropped. He mentioned his size once, after your heat, but it hadn’t come up since. Considering he helped you during your heat, you know you could take him, it’s just the initial surprise of seeing it.

“Mingi, you’re… huge,” you moaned breathlessly. It wasn’t meant to be said aloud, but Mingi heard it anyway. He chuckled beneath you, planting a soft peck on your clit.

“And it seems like you like it,” he said matter-of-factly, chuckling as he continued eating you out.

You pushed down his sweats and briefs, slowly revealing his length and girth. You drooled at the sight, and when it slapped his abdomen with a heavy thud, a gasp escaped your lips.

Leaning forward to hold it, you could feel the weight his length carried. Just touching it after ignoring it all this time made Mingi shiver, causing him to lose focus. The dark patch on his sweatpants confirmed he was dripping with precum. The glossy sheen of his tip made it look so pretty—the way it glittered as it trailed down his length, accentuating the protruding veins.

Wrapping your fingers around his tip, your hands were immediately coated with his essence. You gave Mingi a few experimental strokes, noticing how your fingers barely touched. He had stopped moving, instead focusing on your hand and how soft it was

Although you’d love to give him a hand job, you also craved to taste him. He tried to act nonchalant, but even you could tell you affected him deeply.

You kissed along the side of his length, tonguing a bit of his precum as you worked around him. You tasted the faint, perfumed scent of his pheromones on your tongue, coating the rest of your taste buds. Trailing back up to his tip, you opened your mouth, dripping some drool for an easier glide before taking him in, bobbing your head slowly.

Realistically, you knew you couldn’t take him into your mouth, but you wanted to try and see how much you could manage.

Mingi had to stop again, pressing his head against your plush pillows, indulging in the warmth of your mouth. Whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth, you stroked with your hand, going as far down his length as you could. He felt so heavy on your tongue and deep in the back of your throat, reminding yourself to keep your breathing steady. You were confident you’d never had anyone this big in your mouth before—it turned you on profoundly.

His warm breath fanned against your core as he let out a deep, long string of moans. The satisfaction of his cock essentially fucking your throat had you quivering above him. Maybe you did like oral just as much as Mingi did.

His ears turned inward, recognizing when you were approaching your orgasm by your muffled pitch. He attached himself back to your core, sucking harshly on your clit, emitting obscene noises against you. Without warning, you came for the second time today. He was truly amazed by your love for oral.

Mingi slapped the fullness of your ass, smoothing out the searing pain as he massaged it.

You popped off his length to catch your breath, feeling so spent already when you'd barely started—meanwhile, Mingi's stamina and energy seemed undying.

Coming to your senses, you took him back into your mouth and tried to sink further down his length. He bucked into your mouth at the warm, tight envelope, occupied with lapping up your essence. Changing up the pace, your left hand went lower to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. Mingi tore his lips from you and cursed, hissing slightly.

“Don't stop, Princess.” His hands slid up your back from underneath, pulling your body closer to his lower half.

He was unaware of his actions; with one foot propped on the bed, he mindlessly thrust into your mouth. You closed your eyes and relaxed your jaw for him as saliva dribbled down his length. Curses, babbles, and muted moans bounced around the room, every audible reaction from Mingi shot straight to your cunt, clenching around nothing. The only way he became aware of what he was doing was when your tail accidentally brushed against his face, swaying in visible enjoyment.

He pulled out of your mouth, managing his breathing. “Fuck, I got ahead of myself-— oh...”

You took it upon yourself to sink back down, tapping his thighs to encourage him to continue.

Your face was flushed with desire, enamored by him.

Mingi got the message, gently easing back into his rhythm. With your taste lingering on his lips and the way you took his length so well, he inched closer to his orgasm. Your tongue felt his veins pulse as he twitched inside your mouth. He was extremely close.

Shortly after, Mingi came, stilling his hips as his hot essence shot down your throat. You moaned at the taste of his cocoa butter pheromones embedded in his cum, swallowing around his cock. His guttural groans vibrated against your labia, teasing you unintentionally. It was Mingi's turn to feel like a noodle; his arms dropped to the bed as his body gave out beneath you. He may have cum once, but it was a long, hard high that had been building since before he saw you in the kitchen.

You let go of his cock with a pop, kitten-licking the residual cum that lingered on his tip at the last moment. Panting, you swung your leg over his face, kneeling beside him on the bed. His chest heaved as he calmed down, still lost in his subspace. He licked his lips, missing the taste of you already, as if you weren't right next to him. Mingi's body buzzed, too heavy to move right now. His cock was spent, even if it still rested hard on his thigh, waiting.

Your hand cupped his cheek, turning his face toward you. His eyes appeared dark like the abyss, with only two stars lighting up the darkness; he was absolutely intoxicated.

“Do you need a minute?” you asked, rubbing his chest for comfort.

Mingi nodded, almost pleading with his eyes. You couldn't help but giggle at his tender face, peppering kisses all over it while he lazily kicked the rest of his sweats off.

Mingi insisted on eating you out for two more rounds, promising that you'd rest soon. He was determined to cum just from that.

But with you riding his face and ultimately reaching your high twice, he had gotten so drunk off you that he accidentally knocked out.

You were worried at first, thinking he had finally suffocated himself. But when you noticed his steady breathing as he slept, you lightly slapped his arm for getting carried away.

Without waking him, you tiptoed out of the room to the bathroom, mainly to wipe yourself down and grab a warm wash cloth. You'd never been in this position before, so the moment felt endearing to you. When you re-entered the room, he laid in the exact same position you'd left him. Both of you were halfway clothed, but at least Yunho's shirt concealed most of you. You locked the door before returning to your spot on the bed, hovering over the sleeping hybrid.

You gently wiped his face with the wash cloth, shaking your head at his silly ways of trying to prove himself to impress you. Before examining the rest of him, you made sure to wipe his entire face and neck, removing any uncomfortable layer of sweat. Once the top part was done, you reached down to clean his length and the surrounding skin. He sighed softly in his sleep from your touch but didn't stir awake. When you felt everything was clean to your satisfaction, you placed the rag in the laundry bin.

The last thing you remember was crawling into bed with Mingi, pulling the blanket over both of you to cuddle him. You threw your leg over his, your face nuzzled into his chest. He still felt hot from his rut, so you didn't know how soon the next wave would hit until he let you know. His arm suddenly came down to hold you closer; it seemed automatic, since he usually clutches something when he sleeps—whether it's you or a pillow. You closed your eyes, eventually dozing off to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

Mingi was in a dilemma; his next wave hit, but you were asleep. He sat between your legs, stroking your soft thighs while struggling to hold back the urge to touch himself. He had been whining softly, hoping you'd hear him, but you didn't even react. A sharp pang struck his abdomen, causing his body to lurch forward slightly.

“Princess~” he called out softly, but a whimper drowned out his whisper.

He remembered you mentioning that you liked waking up to sex, which was a surprise to him. The inner dialogue running through his mind was hesitant—he didn't want you to misread the situation. But he bit the bullet, convinced you wouldn't have said it for no reason.

Your pheromones drew him in; just being in a room that smelled only like you was enough to drive him mad. And seeing you lying there, his love bites scattered over your skin, only fueled his lust.

Mingi leaned down to kiss your neck and your scent gland nearby. His hands snaked slowly up your body, sliding your shirt over your chest, occupying himself in the meantime.

The nap you took felt like only five minutes, but your body felt so heavy. You hovered between sleep and waking, eyes still closed, trying to steal a few more moments of rest. One minute you were sleeping soundly and uninterrupted, the next you felt something tickling you. It might have been your imagination, but something definitely felt heavy on you

Then you felt feathery kisses on your neck and down your chest.

Mingi's lips wrapped around your nipple, just like earlier in the kitchen, causing your eyes to flutter open. You softly moaned when his teeth tugged gently on your nipple before he released it, finishing with a light peck. Mingi bit his bottom lip, his gaze raking over your eyes and body.

“Mingi…” you called his name sleepily, running your fingers through his hair.

“You're awake,” he murmured, bending down to press chaste kisses on your shoulder. “Slept well?”

You nodded. Sleep always beckoned you, but so did the man before you.

“Your phone was recording the whole time,” he whispered in your ear, kissing behind it. The phone was propped up on your nightstand, its screen facing and recording both of you. “I wondered if you'd want to save this for later. It's on your phone anyway, you could always delete it. Just thought l'd add to your growing collection of pictures and videos”

You couldn't lie; the idea of rewatching you and Mingi, imagining what he was doing to you on days when you felt needy, really aroused you.

He shifted slightly in front of you, and you gasped without warning. Your hand flew to your mouth as you finally took in the position you were in. Mingi had your right leg draped over his own, his cock nestled about halfway inside you, its thickness stretching you out deliciously.

This was the source of the heavy feeling—Mingi was fucking you in your sleep.

"Fuck, baby," he hissed, stilling your hips. "I just started. I tried to wake you up, but when I pushed in..." Mingi trailed off, struggling to hold back. "You're just so tight, Princess."

You began mewling, contracting around him. What a beautiful way to wake up.

He lifted your leg, hooking it over his shoulder as he pulled out slightly, then slid deeper inside you. You held your breath, gripping the sheets as you watched where you two connected. He fit snugly against your walls, filling you completely. Your hand pressed lightly against his lower stomach, hissing as each glide of his length made you whimper.

Mingi took his time, slowly fucking you halfway until you adjusted, then sliding more of himself in with each thrust. The wanton moans escaping you sent pulses straight to his cock, especially as you looked so pliant beneath him. Whenever you needed him to slow down, you pressed your fingertips against his abdomen. He always waited for your signal, occupying himself by kneading your thighs.

When you tried to pull him closer with your other leg, wanting him deeper, he stopped you.

"Can't hurt yourself again," Mingi stated firmly. He didn't want a repeat of what had happened during your heat.

"More," you begged, gripping his bicep.

Mingi huffed softly, biting back his groans. "You want more?"

He looked deeply into your eyes, reading the way your mouth hung open, nodding wordlessly at him.

"Can you take all of me?" He already knew the answer; he'd seen you take him incredibly well.

Once you confirmed it was alright for him to continue, Mingi nearly filled you to the brim. His rut urged him to hurry and fuck you senseless, but he knew better than that. He was the biggest you'd ever had; he knew it, yet he'd barely done anything, and you were already begging for more.

You needed all of him. And he yearned for all of you.

"Fully," you repeated his words back to him, chewing your bottom lip.

Mingi adjusted your right leg over his left shoulder, pushing the rest of his length deeper into you. You dragged out a moan, muffling it by burying your face into the pillow beneath your head. Mingi winced at the ache of his rut, digging his fingers into your skin as he thrust long, slow, languid strokes inside your slick cunt.

He easily brushed along your G-spot, each thrust hitting your cervix. He admired how your pussy gripped his length, swallowing him whole with every motion. You couldn't help but glance at your phone, still recording. Seeing the reflection of Mingi thrusting deep into you as you lay on your side only turned you on more. Your hand reached for his shirt, tugging him closer. He thought you wanted to kiss him, so he closed his eyes, leaning in to meet your lips—-but instead, you bit down on his scent gland again.

Mingi's deep, throaty groans turned into needy whines and whimpers, fucking into you with newfound desperation.

"I'm not delicate anymore," you whispered after kissing his scent gland. His mind felt light and empty, like he was on cloud nine, but he registered every word

"While you were sleeping," he huffed, sucking in a breath as he reached for something by your head, "I thought we could use this again."

"Please," you breathed. The immediate hum of the buzzing was music to your ears as you wrapped your tail around his arm while he lowered the wand where you craved it most.

Mingi held your vibrating wand in his hand, and you suddenly remembered how the two of you had shared it during your heat. The idea utterly enthralled you, it would help both of you release the tension building in your bodies.

Today was going to be a very long day.

84 notes · View notes

cherrykpawp · 15 days ago

Text

Heat // Ch 10

Rating: Explicit, Mature (M)

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

This chapter includes: hybrids, Afab!reader, reader-centric, slow burn, fluff, mutual pining, Fashion designer!Seonghwa, Owner!Seonghwa, Dance instructor!Yunho, Owner!Yunho, Calico hybrid!reader, Black cat hybrid!San, Husky hybrid!Mingi, Dobermann hybrid!Yeosang, Maine Coone hybrid!Wooyoung, Princess Roleplay (roles revealed in chapter), plot twist?

Taglist: @m-flowerjunnie-oa, @mrsminseochoi, @strawwff, @sunlight120902, @awkward-fucking-thing, @menialmoonchild, @jjongsho, @chanscase143, @lililiarina, @babyquokkasworld, @rileylovescats

W.C: 8.6k

“Of course he’d enable Wooyoung’s antics,” San sighed, shaking his head with his hands deep in his pockets. “That’s hyung for you.”

“He’s always been weird, so I wasn’t surprised he agreed. It would’ve been more surprising if he didn’t,” Mingi added, shrugging.

“You guys realize this is something Y/n wanted to do too, right?” Yunho said with a playful scowl, leading the way to your destination.

San and Mingi glanced over at you briefly, trying to gauge whether it was true. All you could do was look away, trying to hide the fact that you were laughing yourself. The situation was hilarious to you, and honestly, you were more than excited.

“Then it’s the best idea out there,” San agreed, trying to sound nonchalant.

You arrived at Seonghwa's house for the Princess role-play day that Wooyoung and Yeosang had helped plan. Since Seonghwa had all the outfits and enough space, he decided it made more sense to host the event at his house rather than bring everything to Yunho’s. You didn’t complain—it got you out of the house, just as Yunho had hoped.

San, on the other hand, was a bit grumpy about waking up earlier than he wanted to and complained, though only a little. Yunho and Mingi had charged into his room this morning to wake him up, dancing around his room and on his bed while you stood in the doorway, laughing at the scene.

Yunho knocked on the door in a rhythmic beat, humming a subtle tune.

“Place your bets—will he be the Queen or the King?” Mingi joked. It seemed like this wasn’t the first time Seonghwa had done something like this.

“Jester,” Yunho chuckled. “Seonghwa likes to think outside the box sometimes.”

The front door was then opened by the man himself—Seonghwa. You gazed at him in awe, wide-eyed with wonder. His jet-black hair was slicked back, save for a single strand shadowing over his forehead. A thin, long black necktie was wrapped around his slender neck, partially covering his slightly exposed chest. He wore a black three-piece black suit, embellished with beautifully intricate rhinestones. The main jacket reached just above his calves, with rhinestones scattered across its surface.

His vest featured elegant swirl patterns across the chest, with buttons on top of his epaulets and smaller gems running down the front. Though his pants were plain, his hip was adorned with a long sword—most likely a prop. Chain mail draped from his shoulders, adding texture and depth to his overall look.

Seonghwa looked absolutely striking—captivating in every sense of the word.

“Welcome to Castle D- Oh! Hello Y/n,” Seonghwa began dramatically, slipping into his theatrics until he caught sight of you admiring him so adorably. Your expression made him pause, overwhelmed by cuteness aggression. He gently pinched your cheek, and you let out a soft purr in response.

“He can’t even stay in character. How are we going to do this?” San muttered, his ears going into airplane mode. He already knew it was going to be a long day.

Hearing that, Seonghwa shot him a scowl, quickly slipping back into his theatrical persona.

“Welcome to Castle Diphylleia; we welcome those who shine in the heaviest rain,” he said, bowing with a hand over his chest. “I am Knight Seonghwa, the right-hand man of Castle Diphylleia.”

Though you were thoroughly enjoying the act, Mingi stood speechless with his tail between his legs, one hand covering his mouth. San made a face as he listened to the dramatic introduction, while Yunho grinned from ear to ear—he was a sucker for silly things like this.

“Thank you for having us,” you smiled, attempting to bow in return, but Seonghwa gently stopped you.

“Your Royal Highness, you do not have to bow to the likes of me, for I am but a lowly knight,” Seonghwa reassured you. “The King and Queen are awaiting you in the Castle. I have been instructed to escort you to your quarters.” With that, Seonghwa turned sharply on his heel and stepped aside to let everyone enter.

You all walked inside, removing your shoes and hanging up your coats. Once everyone was settled, Seonghwa gave the next instructions.

“For our Princes,” he said, referring to Yunho, San, and Mingi, “please use the changing quarters upstairs, two doors down. Your change of clothing should be there.”

“Um, your room?” San questioned.

“The changing quarters,” Seonghwa reiterated. “As for our Princess, you shall follow me to your change of clothing. The King and Queen will see you shortly.”

With that, he clapped his hands to dismiss everyone. No one understood what he meant at first—until he added ‘Get on with it already’. The three of them marched up the stairs and disappeared from view. Neither Yeosang nor Wooyoung was in sight, so you could only imagine they were changing as well.

Seonghwa smiled warmly at you. “Your Majesty, please follow me.”

You did just that, walking with him to the guest room where you stayed during your first sleepover with Yeosang and Wooyoung. He stopped at the door and gestured toward it with his hand.

“Everything should be well accounted for, including the correct measurements. Please take as much time as you need.”

You entered the room, hearing the door close behind you as Seonghwa stepped away. On the guest bed lay a beautiful ball gown— so gorgeous it almost felt too precious to wear, even if it was just for a little role-play—along with a pair of long black gloves. You picked up the dress and held it up to yourself in the mirror. Knowing Seonghwa was a fashion designer, you couldn’t help but wonder if he made this as well. When you looked at the tag inside the dress, you saw the same logo as the one in your pajama set that he made for you, so it very well could be.

The dress was sleeveless, with a form-fitting torso that flared out into a flowing ball gown. It was black and white—the torso was mainly black with rippling textures, accented by white lace embroidered at the waist. The skirt had fluid ripples, primarily white at the base, layered with a sheer black material. The overall effect was both fantastical and elegant, with a subtle hint of mystery.

You couldn’t bear it much longer; your ears twitched with excitement. You plopped the dress back onto the bed and removed your outerwear. Since the gown was strapless, you also removed your bra—the straps would’ve ruined the luxurious look. Stepping into the gown, you pulled it up to your chest and pinched the back of it with one hand. You couldn’t help but watch the ripples sway softly with your movements and spins, admiring the elegant flow. Thankfully, Seonghwa had thoughtfully added a hole for your tail to poke through, so that you could sit comfortably. Even if he hadn’t, you would’ve managed somehow.

You were only able to zip it up halfway before getting stuck. Padding over to the door, you peeked your head out.

“Um, Sir Seonghwa?” You weren’t sure how else to address him, but luckily, he wasn’t far and jogged over to the door.

“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” He cocked his head, hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“I can’t zip the rest of the gown up. Can you help me?”

Seonghwa was more than pleased. “It would be my pleasure.

You stepped aside to let him in, then shut the door behind you. Seonghwa moved your hair aside to finish zipping up your dress, then let it fall back over your shoulders. His hands moved as if guided by instinct, tugging and adjusting parts of the fabric to ensure it looked flawless.

“You make the dress look ten times more beautiful,” he said, unable to hide his giddiness as he dropped his knightly composure for a moment. He handed you the gloves to complete the look, then clapped softly at the sight. “Would you model for me one day?”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “You’d let me?”

“Of course,” Seonghwa replied, his tone sincere. “My brand is all about inclusivity. Yeosang and Wooyoung even modeled a few pieces when I first started designing clothes for hybrids.”

“If Yunho’s okay with it, then yes,” you nodded, giving a little spin to show off the dress fully. The gloves added a refined touch, complementing the sleeveless design of the gown.

Seonghwa gestured to the two pairs of shoes behind you. “I wasn’t sure what you’d be more comfortable in, so I prepared both flats and heels. If you prefer to go shoeless, that’s fine too—the gown is long enough to cover everything.”

He gave a small bow, one hand still resting on his sword. “If that is all, I’ll take my leave now.”

“Much appreciated, Sir Seonghwa.” You gave him a Princess-worthy bow, and cute aggression almost got the best of him again. He exited the room, leaving you to finish putting your outfit together.

You settled for the flats—not quite ready to go barefoot, but also not eager to walk in shoes you were still getting used to. They were simple white flats with two decorative flowers on top. The dress would cover them up anyway, so it didn’t matter if anyone saw them.

You took one last look in the mirror, pleased with your reflection. Adjusting a few strands of hair—some in front of you, some behind—you tucked a section behind your right ear for a touch of style. For the sake of memories, you reached into the pocket of your pants for your phone and snapped two quick photos before finally stepping out of the room.

You stood outside the door with your hands clasped together. In the living room, you spotted Seonghwa standing beside a pair of padded chairs, each adorned with a decorative cloth neatly tucked into the creases. He beckoned you over, gesturing toward your seat.

You walked over and sat down gracefully, adjusting your posture to sit properly. When you settled in the chair, you caught sight of Yeosang and Wooyoung approaching from the corner of your eye. Instinctively, you rose to your feet again and greeted them with a warm smile.

“Welcome home, Y/n,” Yeosang smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. “Wow, Hyung, the dress turned out really nice.”

“Thank you. It’s actually part of my next collection—what everyone is wearing is set to drop in a couple of months,” Seonghwa expressed proudly.

“You look amazing, Your Highness,” the Dobermann hybrid complimented you.

“You’re the one to talk—look at how handsome you are,” you scoffed, taking a step back to fully take in his outfit.

In contrast to Seonghwa’s suit, Yeosang and Wooyoung’s outfits were white. Yeosang wore a cropped mock-neck suit jacket, embellished with beautiful lace, beads, and pearls of white and silver adorned all over it. Beads outlined delicate lace detailing along the base of the jacket. The jacket appeared to fasten on the left side, with a row of pearl buttons and three belt clasps at the bottom securing it in place. From just above the elbow down to the cuff, a mix of silver and white beads were arranged in a diamond pattern, each diamond filled with smaller white pearls. To complete the jacket off, a beautiful cuff link adorned the right wrist. His pants, belt, and shoes were plain, crisp, and white—perfectly finishing off his look.

Wooyoung’s jacket was also cropped, but it was open down the middle. His pants and shoes matched Yeosang’s—plain, crisp, and white—but his jacket was styled differently. Like Yeosang’s, it was adorned with lace, beads, and pearls in shades of white and silver. Six rows of large, horizontal pearls were layered down the front, with pearl buttons lining the plackets. Instead of a diamond pattern, the mix of white and silver pearls spiraled down his sleeves, wrapping more tightly around the forearm. The epaulets on his shoulders were accented with two large pearls on each side. The look was finished with a loose, white silk shirt underneath, adding an elegant contrast to the embellished jacket.

“Why, thank you,” Yeosang rubbed the back of his neck. Your genuine compliment made him shy—it was evident in the way his tail swayed behind him.

Wooyoung was next to hug you, swaying the two of you side to side. “Glad you’re here,” he said. Once he let you go, he held onto your hands. “See? Wasn’t this a great idea?” he asked, his fluffy ears perked up toward the sky.

You nodded in agreement, “I didn’t think it would feel like we were in a castle. You guys did a wonderful job.”

Wooyoung waved his hands at you playfully, acting coy. “We couldn’t have pulled it off without you… Well, and maybe everyone else. But I would’ve been perfectly fine being your prince.”

You giggled, and Yeosang tilted his head side to side, silently agreeing with Wooyoung but choosing not to say anything.

“If Seonghwa is the knight, who’s the King and Queen?” You glanced between the two of them.

“Guess,” Wooyoung grinned.

You paused, considering their personalities and what roles suited them best. In your honest opinion, Wooyoung gave off more of a Queen-like energy, while Yeosang felt more like the King—especially with the quiet authority in his demeanor.

“Yeosang’s the King, and you’re the Queen,” you finally decided.

“Correct!” Wooyoung clapped in approval.

“Really?!”

“No,” Yeosang shook his head, causing Wooyoung to burst out laughing. How could he lie to you so easily?

“You’re the Queen, Yeosang?!” you teased, trying not to laugh. He definitely didn’t give off those vibes at all.

“Unfortunately,” Yeosang sighed, glaring at Wooyoung. “Originally, I was supposed to be the King. But Wooyoung, being the brat that he usually is, threatened to torment me in my sleep for at least a week. And knowing him, he would’ve.”

“Yah, I didn’t threaten you—I asked,” Wooyoung defended himself.

“You asked me?” Yeosang questioned that statement, clearly finding it hard to believe.

“I did.”

Yeosang gave you with a deadpan look, “Apparently, I was asked.”

Wooyoung waved his friend off, “Truthfully, everyone would think I’m the Queen anyway. But, I give off the aura of a King, no?”

You and Seonghwa tilted your heads to the side. “Well…,” you both said in unison. Yeosang stifled a chuckle and turned around to hide his face.

“Both of you are no help,” Wooyoung pouted. “Let’s sit, please.”

All three of you sat in your designated seats: you in the middle, Wooyoung on your left, and Yeosang on your right. Feeling bad that Seonghwa had been standing the whole time, you leaned forward and called out to him.

“You can sit down, Sir Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa placed his hand over his heart as he replied, “Her Royal Highness and her pure generosity. Although I am deeply grateful, I must respectfully decline. Standing here is quite fine— thank you for taking care of me.”

“O-of course,” you stammered, flustered by his charming gesture.

“You could stand there all day, then,” Wooyoung quipped, sticking his tongue out at him.

Seonghwa nearly unsheathed his sword, threatening Wooyoung.

“Treason!” Yeosang exclaimed, eagerly anticipating what he thought would be Seonghwa’s betrayal. But Seonghwa quickly sheathed his sword, fixing it at his side. “Why’d you stop?”

You lightly slapped Yeosang’s shoulder, earning a laugh from him.

Soon enough, you heard footsteps cascading down the stairs. One by one, the Princes appeared: San, Yunho, and Mingi.

You were in awe of their outfits as well—everything was planned meticulously. Their suits were similar to Seonghwa’s; black, yet each styled to reflect their individual personalities. Small, sparkling rhinestones gleamed under the fluorescent lights, while their pants and shoes remained plain black.

San’s had a distinctly princely feel. His jacket was buttoned asymmetrically, with a single pearl button at the top right of his chest and three buttons lined vertically on the left side of his waist. From the top left of his jacket, larger rhinestones were arranged diagonally down toward the middle. This pattern was interrupted by a belt that hugged his waist, shaping his form. Even the belt was outlined with rhinestones and crystals. Unlike earlier, San’s hair had been slicked back, shining with a bluish-black sheen.

Yunho’s jacket had a similar shape to Wooyoung’s: a cropped, open, mock-neck style. The right side featured horizontal ribs along the zipper, while the left side was adorned with larger rhinestones. Like San’s, these rhinestones stretched from the top left corner down to the middle of the jacket, but with additional smaller stones lined in between. His sleeve, similar to Yeosang’s, was decorated with rhinestones extending from the upper arm down, topped with a design resembling a firework exploding in the sky.

And finally, Mingi’s. His jacket featured large pearl buttons down the placket but was buttoned only from the collar to the middle of his chest, leaving the rest open to reveal a black mesh shirt underneath. His collar was accented with two pearls on each side. The left side of his jacket combined the diagonal rhinestone patterns of San’s and Yunho’s, but the right side was the most intricate. Rhinestones formed a star-like shape, arranged vertically in parallel lines, extending from his shoulder down his sleeves to his cuffs.

All of their cuffs were wrapped in lace and small ruffles, perfectly matching the lace on your dress.

“Wow,” was all you could manage; your breath was taken away by the sight. Seeing these suits firsthand before their official release was an honor.

“We should be saying ‘wow’. Look at you,” Yunho gestured toward you sitting there, looking every bit the Princess.

San couldn’t take his eyes off you, admiring every detail of your dress and how effortlessly it suited you.

“Introduce yourself to Her Royal Highness,” Seonghwa commanded, standing tall with regal posture.

Mingi stepped forward and gave a prince’s bow. “Prince Mingi, sixth son of the Song clan.”

Yeosang covered his mouth to hide his grin—it was hard for him to fully immerse himself.

Yunho followed. “Prince Yunho, third son of the Jeong clan.”

San took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly at how seriously Yunho and Seonghwa were taking the whole role-play.

“Prince San, fifth son of the Choi clan.”

You stood from your seat, smoothing out your dress before offering a graceful princess bow. “Princess Y/N, Heiress of Castle Diphylleia.”

After completing your greeting, you sat back down, looking forward to what was to come.

Seonghwa cleared his throat, fully immersing himself in the theatrics. “Our three princes will be given three tasks to prove not only their worth, but their right to be crowned Prince of Diphylleia. Even if they succeed, Her Royal Highness alone will determine whether they have met her standard. So—try your best to swoon.”

“Is there anyone who’s caught your eye so far, based on appearance?” Yeosang asked.

“You know I can’t choose that. Everyone looks amazing,” you said honestly as your tail swayed behind you.

“Obviously It’s—

“Not you,” Wooyoung cut San off, wearing a mock-disgusted expression. San squinted at the mischievous hybrid.

“The three tasks are: Runway, Entertainment, and Cooking,” Seonghwa announced. “Show off your physique, entertain Her Highness, and finally, cook a delectable meal.”

“…That’s it?” Mingi raised an eyebrow

“That’s it?!” Wooyoung scoffed, crossing his legs. “Are you too good for our Princess?”

Mingi quickly waved his hands in front of himself, his tail hiding between his legs. “N-no, I was just asking. Sorry, Queen Wooyoung.”

“Queen?!” Wooyoung shot up from his seat while Yeosang giggled quietly beside him. “Yah, off with his head!”

Seonghwa unsheathed his sword, raising it as if ready to strike down Prince Mingi.

“You’re not the Queen?!” Mingi grinned from cheek to cheek, clearly amused by Wooyoung’s dramatic reaction. “Poor Yeosang.”

“That’s it. You’re not marrying the Princess. Begone.” His tail puffed out to show his agitation.

You pulled on Wooyoung’s sleeve, pulling him back down into his seat. “They haven’t even had the chance to prove themselves yet. Don’t go killing anyone without a reason.”

Wooyoung pouted, arms crossed and ears flat on his head. “Fine, whatever you say.” With that, Seonghwa sheathed his sword once again.

“Apologies for the mishap,” Knight Seonghwa said with a polite bow. “Commence the runway.”

The three Princes bowed in unison, lining up from oldest to youngest. San mumbled something under his breath, prompting Mingi, who stood behind him—to flick his tail in retaliation.

Yunho looked completely in his element as he stepped forward with a confident stride, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. He waved to the imaginary crowd surrounding him, sending a wink and finger guns your way. Under the lights, the rhinestones on his jacket caught and reflected every color, as if he could glitter under moonlight. As he reached the end of the runway, he turned his back to you, Wooyoung, and Yeosang, glancing coyly over his shoulder before walking off—signaling San’s turn.

It seemed like they had done this before, especially with the way Seonghwa kept muttering praises under his breath. Though he still couldn’t believe the situation he was in, San walked professionally. He truly looked the part of a Prince, from the way his slicked-back hair glistened to the commanding aura he carried. When it was time to pose, he squared his shoulders and flexed an arm, displaying his strength. Even beneath the suit, you could tell how cinched his waist truly was. After offering a graceful bow, he turned and walked back, clearing the way for Mingi’s turn.

Mingi strolled forward with both hands tucked into his pockets, taking long, confident strides. His expression was serious as he scanned the four of you seated before him. But the moment he stood in front of you, his demeanor shifted entirely. Suddenly, he became… cute? He pressed a heart against one cheek, then the other, followed by making a heart with his index and middle fingers. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out something: a finger heart. With each adorable gesture, he let out a high-pitched “mmm,” scrunching his nose.

“Yuck,” Yeosang was actually disgusted and shocked by his friend. Mingi ignored him, proudly displaying his cute side, while Seonghwa egged him on.

Once they finished, the three princes lined up again, waiting for the first part of the verdict. You applauded their efforts, earning pleased reactions from all of them.

“Princess, who won your heart this round?” Seonghwa asked, gesturing toward the trio.

You pondered, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. “Can’t I choose them all?”

“No,” Seonghwa said sternly.

“Hm… then probably… San,” you answered confidently. You also hoped he would play along more, and your answer seemed to encourage that.

San dramatically bowed, slipping into his historical voice again. “Princess! I will die for you.”

Wooyoung giggled, nearly copying his friend, forgetting that he was playing the King instead.

“I won’t lose again!” Yunho declared, fully committed to his role.

Mingi was more distraught that his cute expressions hadn’t worked on you, or at least Wooyoung. He knew Yeosang wasn’t a fan of it, so that was a lost cause.

“Your Majesties, who would you have chosen?” Seonghwa asked both Wooyoung and Yeosang.

“We didn’t ask for their opinion,” Mingi bickered, displeased.

Seonghwa unsheathed his sword again. “Are you disrespecting their Royalty?”

Mingi sent pleading eyes to Yunho. “Hyung, he keeps pulling his sword out on me.”

Yeosang cleared his throat, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “I would’ve chosen San as well.”

“And I would’ve chosen Yunho,” Wooyoung replied. “Mingi would’ve been chosen if he bit his tongue.”

Mingi zipped his lips, not wanting to lose because of his smart remarks.

“San wins the first round,” Knight Seonghwa declared, followed by cheers from Wooyoung and Yeosang. “Moving on to the next task: entertainment. You’ll have five minutes to come up with either three individual talents or a group performance.”

“We already have a performance ready,” Yunho clarified.

“If it’s the butler dance or the ruby dance, we’ve seen it already,” Yeosang said.

Yunho shrugged. “We need those five minutes.”

You watched as San, Yunho, and Mingi turned their backs to you to huddle together, brainstorming a performance idea.

“I’m not too worried about the performance. With Yunho leading, he’s bound to win,” Yeosang whispered to you and Wooyoung. “Plus, San’s a great singer and Mingi’s a great rapper.”

This was news to you. “Wait, they sing and rap?”

“You didn’t know?” Wooyoung furrowed his eyebrows, you shook your head no. “We’ve done karaoke many times—you should hear them. They just don’t pursue it professionally; it’s more of a recreational thing.”

“Um, Sir Seonghwa? May we use your speaker?” Yunho pulled out his phone, ready to connect to YouTube.

“Speak plainly—what is this ‘speaker’ you’re referring to?” Seonghwa feigned naivety, only to drop the act briefly. “Yes, you may.”

“Seonghwa is really into his role right now, I love it,” you whispered, gossiping to Wooyoung and Yeosang.

“When I told him about the activities you wanted to do and mentioned the Princess role-play, he immediately planned everything out. He lives for this kind of thing—it’s kind of his forte,” Wooyoung said proudly of his hyung.

“For someone who exudes such elegance and handsomeness, Seonghwa’s very… creative,” you complimented him, even if it didn’t quite sound like one.

“Creative’s the right word,” Yeosang added, bouncing off your statement. “He was stuck between being the jester or, for some reason, a witch, but we convinced him that the Knight was the better option.”

Now you were curious to see Seonghwa dressed as either a jester or a witch.

The sudden sound of music startled you, causing you to place your hand over your chest. When you faced the three Princes, they were already standing in formation, with Yunho in the middle. You had high expectations, having never seen Yunho dance before, let alone heard Mingi and San sing or rap.

“Not Fantastic Baby,” Wooyoung laughed in amusement, cheering them on. It was your first time hearing the song, it sounded very upbeat from what you could tell.

“YEOGI BUTEORA!” Mingi held an imaginary mic to the three of you, while Wooyoung and Yeosang chanted the next line, leaving you just as surprised. “WE GON’ PARTY LIKE!”

“LILILILALALA,” Knight Seonghwa sang along wholeheartedly.

Yunho remained in place, waiting for his cue to start. San began singing his part of the performance, leaving you in awe—you’d never heard his voice before. Just as Yeosang mentioned, he really did sound great.

Mingi and San harmonized on the ‘nanananana’ line before Mingi took over the chorus.

“Wow, Fantastic baby,” and with that, Yunho’s cue began.

Eventually, everyone broke character, fully joining in as you sat and watched. Suddenly, there were no Kings, Queens, or Knights—just a full-on concert. Wooyoung and Seonghwa jumped in with the ad libs, while Yeosang pretended to be a conductor, waving an invisible baton between his fingers. Yunho’s movements were very sharp and fluid, perfectly timed with the rhythm of the song. Even though everyone was in a playful mood, his precision remained intact. He performed with beautiful, expressive gestures—almost as if he were truly on stage.

Mingi’s rapping felt effortless, like a gift he should genuinely consider pursuing. The same went for San—his smooth, higher pitch paired well with Mingi’s velvety, baritone voice, complementing the song’s tone. The two of them had such chemistry, it was as if they could read each other's minds, seamlessly trading harmonies and taking turns when the moment called for it. They even pulled the others in, who joined with equal enthusiasm. The performance, though spontaneous, was genuinely admirable.

Admirable as it was, you searched for a word that truly captured the scene unfolding before you. And there was only one.

Flabbergasted.

You were genuinely, utterly flabbergasted. Because, despite the elaborate role-play and noble personas, it had only just hit you—you were completely surrounded by losers. Losers… with talent.

And then everyone started jumping, cheering ‘yeah’s like a quartet. Seonghwa came up to you, grabbing your hands and swinging them side to side as he sang along. You joined him in singing, repeating the parts that were familiar to you, but soon, the performance was over. San ended it with an imaginary mic drop, Yunho was so immersed that he was breathing heavily, with Mingi rubbing his back.

Everyone in the room, besides you, was too busy catching their breath from getting riled up by the song. Was it really that popular?

You broke the silence by applauding, requesting an encore—but not really, just for dramatic effect. Yunho smiled at your genuine amusement, settling for resting on the floor.

“You guys performed so well,” you praised them. “I didn’t know we had so many hidden talents here.” Your words made San and Mingi shy.

You read the room very quickly, noticing you were the only one not heaving. Without a word, you left the living room, slightly picking up your dress as you headed towards the kitchen. Everyone was confused about where you went until you returned with several water bottles on your arms. You handed them out one by one, not caring about the role-play at the moment.

“We can take a ten-minute break,” you announced, and they couldn’t agree more.

You and Seonghwa were the main ones tending to everyone during the break. Seonghwa mainly checked to see if the outfits were holding up well—looking for anything that might’ve come loose or torn—but also because he hated sweat. You did a mental check, making sure everyone was okay and asking if they needed anything, wiping off sweat from Yunho and the hybrids.

As you checked on Wooyoung, Seonghwa was preparing the final part of the tasks: the recipes for the cooking segment. Everyone had agreed to award equal points for the performance, recognizing the dedication to the bit and the song. That meant San was two-for-two, while Yunho and Mingi had one point each.

Yunho thanked you as you dabbed at his damp skin with the towel, allowing you to dry the sides of his face while he continued sitting on the ground.

“Did you choreograph that dance too?” you asked him, truly curious.

“I wish,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s an old song, but very popular. I’m surprised you don’t know it.”

“Well, my old owner was a very old lady. I don’t think she was very up-to-date with a lot of things,” you made light of the situation.

Ever since your night out at the festival and restaurant, that older man had been on his mind. He kept wondering who he was to you. Of course, he never pressed the subject—it wasn’t his business unless you chose to tell him—though right now, he wanted to ask. He could put two and two together: the older man was clearly someone very important to you.

Instead, he stared fondly at you. “I guess I just have to broaden your music selection,” he said, standing up from his seat on the floor and gently removing the towel from your hand.

To shield yourself from his doe eyes, you let your gaze drift to anything else—his jacket, his hair—occupying yourself by adjusting or fixing things. But it didn’t take long for you to notice that he had caught on to your avoidance, making your eyes drop to the floor in embarrassment.

“Why do you always do that?” Yunho questioned, following your gaze, turning with you whenever you tried to look the other way.

“Because I’m just not used to it, that’s all,” you replied, which was partially true. “Besides, if you keep looking at me like that, you might just become Prince after all.”

Yunho bowed, “Then I shall ensure you are courted properly, Your Royal Highness.”

The main reason for your answer was something you were sure of—it’s just that there was always a worry that poked at it. You couldn’t say it aloud yet, because the last time you did, you lost someone. Not that you’d lose them anytime soon, you just didn’t want to live with any regret, especially when you felt like you hadn’t been here that long. So, until the time is right, you’ll continue to avoid their endearing gazes.

Seonghwa heard Yunho put on his Princely act and immediately gathered everyone’s attention to resume the role-play. You took your seat again. This time, however, your cheeks were dusted a soft pink, and you gave your full attention to Seonghwa until your tension calmed down. San, Yunho, and Mingi resumed their positions at the front, standing with their arms behind their back. Wooyoung and Yeosang returned to their seats, sitting more relaxed, with their legs and arms crossed.

“Finally, we have reached the last section—to truly prove your worth,” Sir Seonghwa announced, holding three folded papers in his hand and gesturing them toward the Princes. “Three different recipes for three different meals, yet only one will be chosen as the most delicious. Prepare it well for your royalties. Once you choose, do not reveal it—keep it to yourself, as it will be a surprise for them as well.”

“Oh?” Yeosang was intrigued, “What if I don’t like it?”

“It’s not for you—it’s for the Princess,” Seonghwa squinted his eyes at Yeosang. “Besides, I chose recipes I’m sure everyone here likes.”

“Don’t speak to my Queen in such a manner,” Wooyoung playfully scolded the Knight, giving him a light smack. Seonghwa almost reached for his sword before remembering his place in this role-play. This might’ve been the first time Yeosang was actually fine with being the Queen.

The Princes selected their recipes, scanning the list before folding them shut again.

“Wow, you really put a lot of work into this,” Mingi pocketed his recipe so no one could see it.

“Do you even have the ingredients for this?” San brought the paper closer to his face. He’d cooked before, but the meals weren’t all that extravagant.

“Of course I do. Do you think I’d come unprepared?” That was a fast ‘no’ from everyone in the room, inflating his ego. “But you do have a lifeline to help assist you: me. And maybe YouTube, if I’m just as lost.”

“So you haven’t made these before?” Yunho questioned.

Seonghwa shook his head. “Before you head to the kitchen, please remove your jackets… I don’t want you all ruining my hard work. Aprons are in the kitchen.”

They respected that, especially considering none of them wanted to get yelled at by Seonghwa. He’s a very kind individual, so if he were to get upset about potentially damaging his designs, they wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Removing their jackets, they handed them to the older male, revealing the different shirts underneath. Mingi had on a black see-through shirt, Yunho had a tight short-sleeved mock neck, and San wore a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up.

The four of them, including Seonghwa, left to prepare the recipes. Seonghwa was mainly there to assist them with locating the ingredients and to make sure no one cut themselves or burned down his house, leaving you, Yeosang, and Wooyoung in the living room.

“Are you enjoying yourself so far?” Wooyoung asked, leaning toward you in his chair, his big, fluffy tail swaying behind him.

“Yes, I am, actually,” you admitted, purring softly. “I didn’t know how this was going to play out, but I love the mixture of seriousness and silliness. And I love these outfits on all of you. I wish I could have this dress.”

“Well, why not?” Wooyoung shrugged, scanning the details of your outfit.

“Why not?” you echoed, and he nodded. “It’s Seonghwa’s, I have no right to take it. Besides, I don’t have a reason to wear such a gorgeous dress—there’s no ball to go to.”

“We watched Seonghwa create this dress. I have a feeling he’d be honored to let you have it,” Yeosang said with an honest smile, his pretty canines showing.

Still, you really had nowhere to wear it. You mostly stayed home because that’s where you felt most comfortable. It would just sit in your closet and collect dust.

“I can’t have it,” you declined politely. “Maybe if it were a different dress.”

Yeosang hummed, acknowledging your concern.

Wooyoung pulled out his phone and started tapping away. You figured he was on social media. You had only learned about social media recently, but you didn’t use it much—there weren’t many people who interested you. Besides, YouTube Shorts seemed more entertaining. Wooyoung called you old for that, even though he’s technically older.

A sweet, soft melody began playing from the speakers in Seonghwa’s house, drawing your attention once again. Wooyoung had put on a classical ballroom dance song, setting his phone down on the chair before rising to his feet.

“You said there was no ball to go to, so why not bring it here?” he bowed before you with his hand extended, waiting for you to take it.

Hesitantly, you reached out with your gloved hand. Wooyoung gently helped you to your feet, placing one of your hands on his shoulder while intertwining his fingers with your other hand. His free hand settled on your waist.

“Are you suddenly playing the prince now?” you asked, feeling him pull you just a little closer.

“No,” he swayed your body along to the rhythm of the song, leading you through the waltz. “No need for acting right now.”

You never danced before, especially not a waltz. You followed his lead as best you could, glancing down occasionally to track his steps and avoid moving in the wrong direction. Still, Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind what you considered your two left feet. He simply hummed along with the music, content. Thankfully, the dress you wore concealed your clumsiness; to anyone watching, it might have looked like you knew what you were doing.

“Do you dance too?” you spoke in a whisper, not wanting to break the moment.

“For fun. Nothing more,” he replied, letting go of your waist to twirl you with one hand. You spun easily under his guidance, the dress flowed gracefully with each turn—it was almost haunting in its elegance.

He drew you close for a brief moment, then spun the two of you together before releasing your hand and extending his own outward. You mirrored him, expecting to twirl back into his arms, until you felt another hand gently grasp your free one.

It was Yeosang. Wooyoung had passed you off, giving him a turn to dance with you.

“'M’lady,” Yeosang bowed, holding you the same way Wooyoung did.

You giggled at his formality. “You too?”

Yeosang nodded, his ears flicking slightly. The two of you swayed in time with the music. “I had to dance with the Princess at least once.”

His grip was firmer than Wooyoung’s, yet his movements were delicate, almost as if he were handling fine china. His left arm wrapped around you as he lifted you into a willowy spin, catching you off guard for a moment, before gently placing you back on the ground and continuing the dance. You didn’t think you’d ever felt more like a Princess than you did now, surrounded by people who felt like Princes themselves.

“Please don’t ruin my kitchen,” Seonghwa warned the three princes, wary of the mess they might make. He could hear the music playing from the living room, but he was more concerned about the aftermath of cleaning up.

“We’re not messy. We clean every day,” San grumbled as he washed his potatoes. “Still, none of these recipes is the same level of difficulty. Why is Yunho’s so much easier to cook?”

“Because he chose it,” Seonghwa replied simply. “If you had picked it, maybe you’d be cooking something easier.

And technically, he’s not wrong, they had picked randomly, so there was a chance that he could’ve selected the easier dish. Still, he couldn’t help but mumble under his breath.

”Mine is going to take the longest,” Mingi sighed as he diced some onions. He hated cutting onions; they always made his eyes sting. “What are they even doing over there?”

Seonghwa stepped out of the kitchen to peek into the living room, and the scene before him made his heart swell. Watching you dance with both Yeosang and Wooyoung confirmed what he had quietly hoped: you had fully opened up to them. He had honestly been worried when you decided to sleep over. He thought Wooyoung’s brashness and Yeosang’s quiet, reserved nature might drive you away. But instead, you had been patient and kind, meeting them with gentle understanding. He could see now what he had always believed deep down, that in time, you’d become inseparable.

To them, you were their Dandelion.

But to him, you were his Diphylleia; you just needed a bit of water to reveal the true beauty of your petals.

“Seonghwa hyung?” Mingi called, noticing that Seonghwa was staring intently into the living room.

“Dancing,” Seonghwa expressed fondly. “They’re dancing.”

“They are?” San stopped washing the potatoes and glanced over at Yunho and Mingi, telepathically sending a message.

The three Princes peeked out from behind the kitchen wall, careful not to be seen, while Seonghwa silently clapped with delight. It was true, you were waltzing with Wooyoung and Yeosang, smiling as happily as could be.

“They always beat us to it,” Mingi pouted. But he couldn’t deny, it did look like something out of a movie.

“Let them be. They’re friends too,” Yunho whispered to his husky hybrid. Honestly, he’d been beaming ever since you arrived; you had come so far.

“Also, out of all the songs—Fantastic Baby?” Seonghwa finally tore his attention away from you and refocused on the task at hand. “That’s not a very Princely song at all. Did you forget what we’re doing?”

“You said entertainment,” San defended.

“So it was your idea for the song,” Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest. San looked guilty.

“Hyung, you were thoroughly enjoying it yourself,” Yunho said matter-of-factly.

Seonghwa shook his head with a sigh. “That’s not the point.” Realizing they’d been watching for too long, he waved them back toward the kitchen. “Go on, cook. The princess can’t be left starving.”

The cooking took about forty minutes in total, with Seonghwa’s help to speed things along. Thankfully, under his guidance, no one got nicked or burned—well, maybe Yunho, but no one was seriously injured. The house was filled with all kinds of delicious aromas, making everyone’s stomachs rumble in anticipation. While waiting for everything to finish, Wooyoung and Yeosang showed you some magazines featuring Seonghwa’s work, including an interview with him. You also get to see some of Wooyoung’s and Yeosang’s modeling for his hybrid collection over the years. Seeing them with different hairstyles and stunning outfits than usual felt surreal.

Knight Seonghwa returned to the living room alone to inform you that dinner was ready and to take your seat at the dining table for the taste test.

Yunho had just finished plating his meal, garnishing it elaborately in hopes of scoring extra points. He wasn’t worried, as he was having fun with it. Everyone was preparing to carry their dishes to the table, but San suddenly raised a hand to stop them.

“Wait,” he whispered, catching everyone’s attention in the kitchen. “I have an idea…”

As you sat at the dining table with the King and Queen, Seonghwa helped set the table, handing each of you a napkin to place on your lap.

“Your Royalties, the three Princes are finally ready to showcase their dishes. Please don’t be afraid to judge them,” Seonghwa said reassuringly, whistling to signal the Princes.

One by one, they carried their plates to the table, setting them down and standing proudly beside their creations. From what you could see, everything looked delicious—almost like it was made by a professional chef. You still thought back to the lobster risotto you’d had not too long ago.

“Please introduce your meals,” Seonghwa instructed.

Yunho cleared his throat, deciding to go first. “This is Zuppa Toscana. It’s a healthy and hearty soup that I hope will comfort you and keep you warm throughout this cold winter.”

“What’s in it?” Yeosang asked.

“Uhh…” Yunho wasn’t expecting the question. “Kale, potato, Italian sausage—”

Yeosang held up his hand to silence him.

“I’ve heard enough. Sounds amazing,” he was already eager to dig in.

It was Mingi’s turn next. “I made steak, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. Seared the steak to a perfect medium-rare and even cut it up for you, because Your Highness’s hands are too delicate.”

Wooyoung let out an impressed “woo,” admiring Mingi’s suave delivery, which earned him a… very hard blink in response.

“Wha—what was that?” Wooyoung asked.

“A wink,” Mingi said plainly, trying again. Wooyoung turned his head to the side, trying his best to hold back laughter at Mingi’s awkward attempt. “Is it not?”

Wooyoung just waved his hand and moved on to the next dish. Mingi looked confused, cocking his head.

“And I prepared a Shrimp Aglio Olio, a simple dish that’s rich in flavor,” San said, looking radiant with his shoulders held high and his arms behind his back.

“Agil… aglio ollio… oli…” You repeated silently to yourself. It sounded difficult. Yeosang noticed and whispered the correct pronunciation to you.

“You can comment on the presentation and smell if you want, but it’s the taste that counts the most. Whoever’s dish is the best wins the final point,” Seonghwa clarified. “Other than that, you may officially begin.”

Immersed in the role play, you raised your hand.

“Sir Seonghwa?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I’m afraid I cannot eat food that is potentially poisonous,” you said, hearing dramatic gasps from both Wooyoung and Yeosang that almost made you break character. “Try it first, and then tell me if it’s okay.”

Seonghwa genuinely smiled, thinking you were just the cutest. “Your Majesty, how could I be so foolish?! It is my duty as your Knight to ensure your safety. Allow me to indulge, but I do have one request—if I perish, off their heads in my honor!”

San pinched the bridge of his nose at his foolish hyung. Of course, there was no poison; he just disliked how passionate Seonghwa was about his role.

Seonghwa grabbed a fork and spoon, taking only a small bite from each plate, hiding his mouth before every bite and chewing thoroughly—mainly for dramatic effect and suspense.

“Wow, delicious,” he raised his eyebrows, complimenting no particular dish. “Everything is safe to eat, Your Highness.”

And with that, you, Yeosang, and Wooyoung held your smaller bowls and shared portions of the meals you each wanted to try. You chatted quietly among yourselves, judging the flavors of each dish one by one. Mingi and San’s ears twitched with curiosity, trying to guess what you were saying, while Yunho remained calm and patient, waiting for the results. They all focused intently, trying to read your expressions. You kept your face perfectly neutral, giving nothing away. Even your tails gave no hint—no purring, no twitches. You were too good at hiding your thoughts. They expected that kind of control from Yeosang, but you and Wooyoung were a surprise.

Once you had all finished tasting, it was time for the verdict.

“I just want to say thank you all for your hard work—for taking the time to perform and cook for us,” you began warmly. “The Shrimp Aglio Olio was good. Very different... well, all of these were different. I’ve never had any of them before. I just think the other two had a bit more flavor. That said, it looked beautiful, and the fragrance was lovely.”

You shifted your attention to the next dish. “The steak dish was great. The mashed potatoes were buttery and smooth, and the asparagus was cooked perfectly. The steak itself was done just how I like it, very flavorful.”

“And the Zuppa Toscana,” you continued, “was also incredibly flavorful. I actually enjoy soup. It was hearty, just like you said. The broth was rich, and the kale gave it a refreshing balance.” You smiled softly. “All the meals were presented beautifully and smelled amazing.” You paused, realizing you'd talked for quite a while. “Sorry… I think I rambled.”

Wooyoung and Yeosang nodded in agreement with your judgment. Yeosang, a fan of meatier dishes, found the Aglio Olio a bit too plain for his tastes. Wooyoung enjoyed everything—it was obvious in the way he kept quietly eating throughout your speech, saying nothing but showing his approval with every bite.

“So, Your Highness, which dish is the winner?” Seonghwa inquired, excited no matter the outcome.

You didn’t even have to think. You were confident in your decision. “The Zuppa Toscana!”

As you cheered, you caught the sight of both Yunho and San's jaws dropping in disbelief. Sensing the shift in mood immediately, your clapping slowed… then stopped altogether.

Mingi, on the other hand, had a huge grin stretched across his face. His tail wagged so fast you’d never seen it move like that before.

“But… Yunho, you’re the winner! You should be happy.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

“But it’s your soup?!”

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s not?” Now you, Wooyoung, and Yeosang all looked confused.

“I thought it would be funny to switch our plates around…” San admitted quietly, his voice trailing off in defeat. His tail was completely still.

“So… who’s who?” Your eyes flicked between all of them, waiting for an answer.

“Mine was the Shrimp Aglio Olio,” Yunho confirmed.

“And mine was the steak dinner,” San added, still sounding a little bitter.

Which meant only one thing.

“I cooked the Zuppa Toscana,” Mingi bowed, his smile wide and warm, showing off his lovely teeth.

“You made this?!” Wooyoung and Yeosang exclaimed in unison, while your hand flew to your mouth in shock.

“He doesn’t even cook that well,” Yunho added, placing his hands on his hips.

“Well, I did today. I finally found something I can cook,” Mingi replied with a light heart and a shrug.

It was completely unexpected, at least in your opinion.

“That’s the one I said was delicious earlier, by the way,” Seonghwa added with a chuckle. “You guys should try it.”

The three Princes tried each other’s dishes, needing to taste for themselves. At the very least, they confirmed you hadn’t been exaggerating—Mingi’s soup was definitely better.

“Outrageous. Heresy,” San blurted, his ears perking up dramatically as he slipped back into character.

“Wait… if Mingi won this round, that means he and San are tied,” Yeosang pointed out, turning to Seonghwa. “What’s the tie-breaker?”

Seonghwa shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it would come to this.” Wooyoung facepalmed himself.

Mingi and San locked eyes. “Rock, paper, scissors?” Mingi offered, and San gave a firm nod. They only settled for one round to get it over with. They chanted “Rock, paper, scissors!” and threw their hands.

San showed rock. Mingi showed paper. Gasps filled the room.

Mingi was crowned the new Prince of Castle Diphylleia.

He celebrated by running laps around the dining room, cheering loudly and annoying both San and Yunho. Seonghwa dabbed at imaginary tears, acting as though he were giving you away at a royal wedding.

“I can’t believe we could’ve settled this with rock, paper, scissors the whole time,” San sighed, patting Yunho on the back. They exchanged a quiet ‘good job,’ lifting each other’s spirits.

“Well,” Seonghwa suddenly announced, grabbing everyone’s attention, “it’s time for the punishment for the Princes who lost.”

For some reason, only Wooyoung and Yeosang were smiling.

“Um, I don’t think that was ever discussed,” Yunho reported, raising his hands cautiously. San immediately stuck close to his side, both of them slowly backing away as Seonghwa began approaching.

“W-wait… what’s the punishment?” you questioned, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Without warning, Seonghwa dramatically unsheathed his sword, holding it upright before him with a crazed smile and wild eyes.

“Death.”

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