#my job my lover my apartment my credit

[bisexual-yuri]

being unemployed sucks and is scary, I want my old life back

[g1deonthefirst]

honestly i don't think we give pyrrha enough credit because if i had spent the better part of the past ten thousand years trapped in the back of a brain, from which i was only able to break free because of the death of my best friend and probable lover, and then i ended up living in a shitty apartment on what is widely agreed to be the universe's worst planet while grieving the only people i cared about, and i was working in a soul-sucking construction job spending most of my time just trying to keep my coworkers from murdering each other — if, after all that, my twenty year old roommate told me i couldn't spend the money i made on cigarettes to soothe my ten thousand year old nicotine addiction, that would probably break me.

[scarluna]

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VII

Chapters: 6 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers, love triangle

ACT VI.

The crisp winter air nipped at my cheeks as I stepped out of my apartment building, my scarf wrapped snugly around my neck. It was a lazy Sunday, the kind of day where I would’ve normally curled up with a book or caught up on my favorite shows. But today was different. Today, Taehyung had insisted we spend the day together—no work, no drama, just us.

As I adjusted my coat, making sure not to freeze despite the sun outside, I saw him across the street, standing next to a streetlamp. He looked effortlessly handsome in a cream-colored sweater under a beige trench coat, his dark hair slightly tousled by the breeze. His eyes lit up the moment he spotted me, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers—white daisies and pink tulips, delicate and cheerful.

“For you,” he said as I approached, holding the bouquet out with a boyish grin.

“Flowers?” I teased, taking them gently. “Are you trying to win me over?”

He smirked. “Maybe. Is it working?”

I laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s a good start.”

We began walking down the quiet street, the crunch of our shoes against the pavement mingling with the sounds of the city waking up. A few blocks away, we found our favorite little café, the one with the cozy atmosphere and the best hot chocolate in town.

Taehyung held the door open for me, and we were greeted by the familiar scent of cocoa and cinnamon. The café was warm, a stark contrast to the chilly weather outside.

“Two hot chocolates?” the barista asked with a knowing smile as we approached the counter.

“You know us too well,” Taehyung replied with a soft chuckle. We have been visiting this coffee shop back when we were only college students. This place held memories of us. And I cherished it a lot.

Once our drinks were ready—complete with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cocoa powder—we found a corner booth by the window. The steam from the mugs curled into the air as we sat across from each other, the sunlight streaming in and casting a golden glow over his face.

“So,” he began, his tone playful. “What’s on your mind, Miss Y/N? Besides how devastatingly handsome I am.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my hot chocolate to hide my smile. “I was actually thinking about how certain someone managed to spill wine on my dress last night.”

His expression softened, the teasing replaced by genuine concern. “You handled that so well. I would’ve lost my cool.”

“Well,” I said, swirling my spoon in the whipped cream, “I guess I’ve had enough practice dealing with people like Tina.”

He reached across the table, resting his hand over mine. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You are more badass than you think.”

His words warmed me more than the hot chocolate ever could. "I honestly don't know what I will do without you, Tae. I am grateful to have you in my life." I spoke out, it was the truth, I never expressed my gratefulness but now I did. I wanted him to know that I cherished him. Tae's cheeks flushed.  "I will always be here, Y/N. No matter what." My heart skept a beat. I grinned at him and brough the glass toward my lips as if to hide my blush. "So, what's the deal with your Boss tho?There seems to be tension between him and you. I didn't like how he stole you away from me last night..." I froze. My smile faltered and I cleared my throat. "He is just . . . a bit controlling, that's all." "Controlling? He is possessive of you, Y/N. His eyes are feral when he is around you." My frown deepened and I shook my head. "That's not true. I mean, he did made fun of me and my way of work but that's all. He thrives for perfection." Tae's eyes darkened, he stared at me for a minute longer, before a deep sigh escaped his lips. "I just want you to be self-aware of your surroundings, Y/N." Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too caught up between him and Yoongi to even notice what was happening. I couldn't keep this up. My feelings didn't matter, all that matters is my job and how I do it. An awkward silence stretched between me and Taehyung. We were both lost in thoughts now. Gosh, he shouldn't have mentioned Jungkook. Because with Jungkook there is also Yoongi.

After we finished our drinks, we spent the rest of the day wandering around the city. Taehyung led me to a park we used to visit back when we were teenagers. The trees were bare, their branches dusted with the season’s first frost, but the air was alive with laughter from families and couples enjoying the day.

We stopped by the frozen pond, watching as kids skated in clumsy circles. Taehyung nudged me gently with his shoulder.

“Remember the time I tried to teach you how to skate?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Don’t remind me. I think I fell a dozen times..”

“And I caught you every single time,” he added, a proud smile on his face. He was the cutest with how he smiled, it was like stars appeared in his eyes everytime he did.

We walked on, stopping occasionally to take in the sights or to snap a picture. At one point, we found a street musician playing a soulful tune on his guitar. Taehyung pulled me to the side, bowing dramatically.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, his voice dripping with charm.

“Here? In the middle of the park?” I asked, laughing nervously.

“Why not?” He took my hand before I could protest, spinning me gently in a slow circle.

People passed by, some smiling at the sight of us, but I didn’t care. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of us.

By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we found ourselves sitting on a bench overlooking the river. Taehyung wrapped his scarf around my neck, ignoring my protests that I was fine.

“I don’t want you catching a cold,” he said, tucking the ends neatly under my coat.

“Thanks, Dad,” I teased, but the truth was, I didn’t mind. He was caring by nature, and maybe to be cared for felt good...

As the day came to an end, I realized how much I needed this. No work, no stress, no complicated feelings about Yoongi or Jungkook—just a simple, perfect day with Taehyung..

“Still cold?” he asked, noticing my movements.

“Not really,” I admitted. “This scarf is ridiculously warm.”

He smiled, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. “It’s because it’s mine. Everything I own is top-tier.”

I nudged him with my elbow, grinning. “Oh, please. That’s the most Taehyung thing you’ve said all day.”

He laughed, the sound light and easy, and I couldn’t help but smile wider. There was something about him—his energy, his warmth—that made everything feel okay, even after the chaos of last night.

As we turned the corner onto my street, he slowed his pace.

“You know,” he began, his tone softer now, “I really enjoyed today. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so relaxed.”

“I guess I needed it,” I replied, glancing up at him. “Just a perfect day with an old friend.”

“Old friend?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know I’m as youthful as ever. If anything, I’ve only gotten better with age.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

I didn’t respond, but the way my cheeks warmed betrayed me.

When we reached my building, we stopped just outside the entrance. The soft hum of the city buzzed in the background as we turned to face each other.

“Well,” I said, clutching the bouquet of flowers he’d given me earlier, “thanks for today. Really.”

“Anytime,” he said, his voice gentle. “I mean it. If you ever need to escape, just call me. I’ll be there.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The streetlight above cast a faint glow on his face, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes.

“You’re a good friend, Tae,” I said softly, though the words felt heavier than they should have.

His smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, his expression warm and playful again. “Only a good friend? I’ll have to work on upgrading that title.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Goodnight, Taehyung.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and filled with something unspoken.

I turned to unlock the door to my building, but before I could step inside, I heard him call my name.

I turned back, and there he was, standing a few feet away, his hands still in his pockets. “Don’t forget to put those flowers in water,” he said, a lopsided grin on his face.

“I won’t,” I promised, holding up the bouquet.

And with that, he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the quiet night. I stood there for a moment, watching him go, the warmth from the day still lingering in my chest.

As I finally stepped inside, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Today had been perfect—simple, sweet, and exactly what I needed. 

-

The scene outside the company building was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Reporters shouted over each other, their cameras flashing relentlessly as they aimed toward the entrance. Police cars were parked haphazardly along the curb, their lights casting ominous blue and red hues against the surrounding buildings.

My heart sank as I tried to push through the crowd, clutching my bag tightly. The questions flying through the air were disjointed but enough to spark unease in my chest.

“Is it true Jeon Enterprises is under investigation?” “CEO Jeon Jungkook has yet to make a statement—”"Is there a suspect already?"

I forced myself to block out the noise, stepping up to the security guard at the entrance. My heart was thumping fast and loud in my chest. This entire atmosphere looked like a crime series. I had no idea what happened but whatever it was, it was serious.

“I work here,” I said, fumbling with my badge. My hands shook slightly, and I hated how obvious it was.

The tall bulky guard dressed in a black suit squinted at my badge, then gave me a short nod. “Go ahead.”

His words did nothing to calm me as I entered the building, the usual hum of productivity replaced by frantic whispers and hurried footsteps. Police officers roamed the lobby, speaking into radios, while employees stood in clusters, their faces pale with shock.

What on earth happened?

I hurried toward the elevator, my pulse quickening with every step. The ride up to our floor felt like an eternity, and when the doors opened, the sight made my stomach churn.

Officers were everywhere, combing through desks and confiscating files. The normally pristine office space was in disarray, papers scattered and voices raised in hushed tones.

“Y/N!”

I turned to see Rya approaching me, her expression frantic. I could see the paleness on her face, she was definitely shocked and panicked.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rya glanced around before pulling me aside, her grip on my arm tight. “Tina... she’s dead.”

I froze, her words not registering at first. “What?”

“They found her body last night at her apartment,” Rya said, her voice shaking. “And the last person who was seen with her was Jungkook. Police came and took him with them twenty minutes ago. They treated him like a suspect!”

The air seemed to leave my lungs. My mind raced as I tried to piece together what she was saying. Tina? Dead? And Jungkook?

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Jungkook wouldn’t—”

“I know,” Rya interrupted, her voice urgent. “But the police don’t care about what we think. And the media is having a field day with it. They are also got a search order to see if they can find any clue on what happened, Jungkook's office is a raided mess. Cops took everything.”

I glanced around the chaotic office, my chest tightening. Jungkook wasn’t just my boss; he was someone I had come to respect despite our rocky start. The idea that he could be involved in something like this was incomprehensible.

Rya’s hand hovered over the remote as the reporter’s voice filled the tense air of the office.

“Breaking news this morning,” the reporter began, her tone grave. “Authorities have confirmed the discovery of a deceased individual late last night at their apartment. The victim has been identified as an employee of Jeon Enterprises and was last seen attending the high-profile masquerade ball hosted by MNT Media just days ago.”

Rya and I exchanged a glance, our breaths caught in the shared silence. The weight of the words was crushing, and my mind raced to process what I already knew.

“Last seen at the ball...” Rya whispered, her voice barely audible, but I caught the way her hands trembled as she gripped the remote.

I swallowed hard, fighting the knot forming in my throat. 

The broadcast continued, showing images of the ball—the glittering chandeliers, the elegant gowns, the masked faces. And then it switched to a live shot of an apartment building cordoned off with police tape, officers moving in and out under the glow of harsh floodlights.

“Sources close to the investigation report signs of foul play, though no official suspects have been named. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Enterprises, has been confirmed to have been the last one who saw the victim alive, and authorities have expressed interest in speaking with him.”

“Damn it,” Rya muttered, her voice cracking slightly. 

I didn’t answer, the words sticking to the back of my throat. We both knew it was. There was no need to say it out loud.

Instead, I fixed my gaze on the screen, where the reporter was now recounting snippets. “The victim was known to be a driven and outspoken employee, with significant professional ties and ongoing disputes that may have played a role in the events leading up to their death.”

"Y/N... this is bad. Really bad. The board is already panicking, and if this gets any worse, it could take down the entire company.”

I felt like the floor was tilting beneath me, the weight of the situation pressing down on my shoulders.

“I need to find Yoongi,” I muttered, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Yoongi?” Rya frowned.

“He’ll know what to do,” I said, more to convince myself than her. “He always does.”

Without waiting for her response, I turned and started toward his office, my mind a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and determination. Whatever was happening, I needed answers—and fast.

His free hand clenched into a fist at his side. “I don’t care what strings you have to pull—just do it.”

He ended the call abruptly, exhaling sharply before he turned, noticing me standing hesitantly behind him. His expression softened slightly, though the strain in his features remained.

“It’s a mess,” he admitted, his tone heavy. “As you already know, Tina was found in her apartment late last night. She has been shot in the head.”

I swallowed hard, the reality of his words sinking in. Shot in the head? What kind of an animal would do that to her?! Surely, Tina was not one of the best people, she was selfish and her ego reached the skies, but not even once did I wish her death. “And Jungkook? Why are they linking him to this?”

Yoongi’s gaze flicked to the side, conflicted. “He was seen leaving her building around the time they estimate it happened. There’s footage from a security camera, but it doesn’t show much. Just him walking out.”

“That doesn’t mean he did anything,” I said quickly, feeling a surge of defensiveness I didn’t expect.

“I know,” Yoongi said, his voice firm. “But right now, appearances are everything. The media doesn’t care about proof—they just want a story. And Tina being...” He hesitated, his expression darkening. “Well, let’s just say she didn’t make herself any friends around here. People are talking, and not in Jungkook’s favor.”

I was trying to process everything. Tina’s death. Jungkook being questioned. The chaos in the office. It felt like the ground beneath me was shifting, and I couldn’t find my footing.

“Do you think he did it?” I asked quietly, almost afraid of his answer.

Yoongi met my gaze, his dark eyes steady. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ve known Jungkook long enough to say that he’s not capable of something like this. But whether he did or didn’t isn’t the issue right now. It’s about what people believe.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in my chest.

“What do we do?” I asked, desperate for some kind of direction.

Yoongi sighed, “For now, we wait. The lawyers are working on getting him released, but until then, we need to keep things from spiraling. The company is already under enough scrutiny.”

I nodded, though it felt like a hollow gesture. Waiting wasn’t exactly my strong suit, especially not when someone I cared about was at the center of it all.

“What about us?” I asked hesitantly. “What can I do to help?”

Yoongi’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight he carried seemed to lift just slightly.

“Just stay out of the crossfire, Y/N,” he said gently. “You’ve already been through enough. Let me handle this.”

I bristled slightly at his words, not because I didn’t appreciate his concern, but because I hated feeling powerless.

“Yoongi,” I said firmly, standing. “I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while everything falls apart. If there’s anything I can do—anything—just tell me.”

He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded.

After leaving Yoongi’s office, I couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on me. Tina’s death had sent shockwaves through the entire company, and though I’d never liked her—she’d been awful to me more times than I could count—this wasn’t what she deserved.

The thought of her lifeless and alone in her apartment was too much. No matter how cruel she’d been, she was still a person, someone with her own struggles and stories I’d never known. She was still someone's daughter, sister, cousin. . .

I needed to talk to someone.

I found Hoseok and Rya in the break room, sitting at one of the tables near the window. Both of them looked tense, their earlier easy smiles replaced with furrowed brows and quiet whispers.

“Hey,” I said softly as I approached. They looked up, and Rya immediately slid over to make room for me.

“Y/N,” Hoseok said, his tone heavy. “How are you holding up?”

I sat down, clasping my hands together to stop them from trembling. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “This whole thing with Tina... it doesn’t feel real. I know we didn’t get along, but...” I trailed off, unsure how to put the jumble of emotions into words.

“She was a nightmare,” Rya said bluntly, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “But I never thought... this. I mean, she could be petty and cruel, but murder?”

Hoseok frowned, leaning forward. “Nobody deserves that,” he said quietly. “Not even Tina. She could be terrible, sure, but she was still a person.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the three of us lost in our own thoughts.

“I keep thinking about the last time I saw her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “At the ball. She seemed so... smug. Like she was on top of the world. And now, she’s gone.”

Rya crossed her arms, looking conflicted. “Do you think someone here could’ve done it? I mean, everyone knew she had enemies, but this is... extreme.”

Hoseok shook his head. “I don’t want to believe it, but with the police here, searching the office...” He trailed off, his expression darkening. “It’s hard not to wonder.”

“And Jungkook?” Rya asked, looking at me. “Do you think he’s involved?”

“No,” I said firmly, surprising even myself with the conviction in my voice. “I don’t. He might be cold and distant sometimes, but he’s not a killer. He’s... he’s better than that.”

Hoseok and Rya exchanged a glance, but neither argued.

“What happens now?” Rya asked after a moment. “If Jungkook is being investigated, what does that mean for the company? For us?”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle over me again. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I think we need to stick together. Now more than ever.”

They both nodded, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of solidarity between us.

As the three of us sat there, piecing together what little we knew, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something much bigger—and much darker—than any of us could imagine.

-

The morning was gray and oppressive, the atmosphere at Jeon Enterprises thick with unease. I was called to help clear out Tina’s desk under police supervision, a task I didn’t relish but couldn’t refuse. The sight of her empty chair sent a chill through me. Tina had been vile, no doubt about it, but to think she was gone—and in such a horrific way—made my stomach turn.

The desk was surprisingly tidy for someone as chaotic as Tina. Neat stacks of papers, pristine stationery, and a drawer full of color-coded folders. Yet as I sifted through the surface level, something felt off. It was too perfect, almost staged.

A detective stood nearby, arms crossed as he observed. “Anything that seems unusual, set it aside,” he said flatly.

Unusual? Where did I even start? Tina herself was a cocktail of ambition and cruelty, a persona that could fill a thousand file folders with secrets. As I reached into the bottom drawer, my fingers brushed against something that didn’t feel like an office supply. It was wedged under a stack of legal pads—a worn, leather-bound journal.

I glanced at the detective, who was momentarily distracted by another officer. With a quick, furtive motion, I slipped the journal into my bag. I told myself I’d hand it over eventually, but something about it called to me. A gut feeling. Tina had gone out of her way to hide this. Why?

Once I got home that evening, I pulled the journal out and set it on my kitchen table. The leather was cracked and faded, the corners worn down like it had been carried around for years. When I opened it, the faint scent of Tina’s signature perfume wafted up, mingled with something darker—ink and secrecy.

The first few pages were mundane. Meeting notes, to-do lists, sketches of presentation layouts. But as I flipped further, the tone shifted. The handwriting became erratic, the words slanting across the page with a kind of manic energy.

November 3: Another meeting with K. Promises, promises. Does he think I’m stupid? I’ll take what’s mine before he screws me over.

November 12: Y/N is such a naive little thing. Too easy to push around. If only she knew how far out of her depth she is. Pathetic.

I recoiled at the venom in her words. My name was scrawled there like a curse, surrounded by complaints about nearly everyone in the office. Tina hadn’t just disliked people—she’d despised them.

And then there were the cryptic entries:

December 1: The deal is in place. If K tries to back out, he’ll regret it.

December 15: I’m not playing games anymore. If they think they can silence me, they’re dead wrong.

The entries stopped abruptly a week before her death. My fingers trembled as I turned the pages, my heart pounding in my chest. Who was “K”? What deal? And what had Tina meant by “silence”?

Before I could dive further, my phone buzzed. The name on the screen made my blood run cold: Richard Delgrassi. My father’s old associate. 

“Mr. Delgrassi? How did you find my number?” I said cautiously, picking up the call.

“I called your father, wanted to check up on you.” his voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, like a blade sheathed in silk. “Are you okay? I heard about your co-worker Tina.”

I swallowed thickly, deep sigh escaped my lips. "I am fine, sir. It just . . . shocked us all."

“I am really sorry to hear that, if you need anything, please let me know. If you want to leave the company and start somewhere fresh, I will help you out." Leave. Why would I want to leave? I hummed. "Of course, sir, I will let you know." I heard him shuffle on the other side of the line. "What about Jungkook, I heard he is at the police station for questioning." I started pacing back and forth, "Well, right now we don't have much information on what happens next, but hopefully police would release him soon." "I hope so too." he spoke but something in his voice didn't feel sincere. "Alright, I just wanted to check up on you. Know you have someone you can count on." "Thank you, sir..."

The line went dead before I could ask anything else. I stared at the phone, my heart hammering in my chest. 

I glanced back at the journal, its leather cover now looking more sinister than mysterious. Whatever Tina had been involved in, it wasn’t just office politics. It was something far darker, and I was smack in the middle of it.

-

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I stood in front of the police station, staring at the cold, gray walls. It didn’t feel real—none of it did. My mind kept replaying the moment I heard the news: Tina, my manager, was dead. Murdered. And Jungkook, the CEO of the company I’d worked for, was the prime suspect unofficially.

The shock of it had hit me hard. Tina’s death had left a void in our office, and the fact that Jungkook, the man I already thought I knew so well, was now behind bars... it shattered everything.

I took a deep breath before walking through the sterile halls of the station. The fluorescent lights buzzed above me, making the air feel thick and oppressive. I passed the front desk, where the officers barely acknowledged me and suddenly bumped into someone.

The impact jolted me slightly, and I looked up to find Yoongi standing there, his dark eyes sharp and unreadable as ever. He sighed heavily, as if seeing me here was the last thing he needed.

“What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?” he asked, his tone low but laced with irritation.

I straightened my posture, refusing to let him intimidate me. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to see Jungkook.”

Yoongi crossed his arms, his expression hardening. “You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your fight, and it’s definitely not safe.”

“Not safe?” I scoffed, keeping my voice low so the officers milling about wouldn’t overhear. “I work at the same company, Yoongi. Tina was my manager too, in case you forgot. This affects all of us, not just you.”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “That’s exactly why you need to stay out of it. Let the police handle this. Do you even realize how messy this is going to get?”

I glared at him, my frustration boiling over. “Messy or not, I have a right to know what’s going on. Jungkook isn’t just some random CEO. He’s—”

“He’s what?” Yoongi cut in, his tone sharp. “Your boss? Your friend? Someone you think you can trust? Newsflash, Y/N: trust doesn’t mean a damn thing right now.”

I felt the sting of his words but refused to back down. “You’re unbelievable,” I shot back. “You act like you’re the only one allowed to care about what’s happening.”

Yoongi ran a hand through his messy long hair, his jaw tight. I could notice he has been sleep deprived too, the dark circles under his eyes screamed tiredness. “I care because I know what’s at stake. And you showing up here, trying to play detective, is only going to make things worse.”

I stepped closer, narrowing the gap between us. “Then why are you here, Yoongi? If you think it’s so dangerous, why aren’t you staying out of it?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. I saw his eyes darken and he took a sharp breath through his nose, hands now resting on his hips. "Fucking hell, why are you so stubborn?" "Maybe I am good at annoying the hell out of you." His eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything. There was a silence stretching between us before he finally turned around and headed down the hallway.

“Fine,” he muttered over his shoulder. “If you’re so hell-bent on getting involved, follow me. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We made our way to the interrogation room, where Jungkook was being held. My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat as we approached the small, glass-walled room. Jungkook sat inside, his hands folded on the metal table in front of him. He looked tired, his usually sharp features drawn and pale.

The officer standing outside the door nodded at Yoongi, allowing us in. I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the air thick with tension.

Jungkook glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine briefly before shifting to Yoongi.

“Didn’t expect visitors,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Yoongi pulled out a chair and sat down, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “We’re not here to chat. What’s going on, Jungkook?”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering between the two of us. “You tell me. One minute, I’m at the office; the next, I’m hauled in here like a criminal.”

“Did you know Tina was dead?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to stay composed.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. “I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then why are you here?” Yoongi pressed, his tone firm.

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh. “Because someone saw me with her at the ball, and apparently, that’s enough to make me the prime suspect. Never mind that half the company was there."

I glanced at Yoongi, who didn’t break his stare. “And what about Tina? Did she say anything to you that night? Act strange? Mention something... off?”

Jungkook’s expression darkened. “She didn’t say much of anything to me. She was too busy playing her games, like always. I told everything to the police but they still keep me in this godforsaken hole.”

“Games?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Y/N, you know fully well how she was,” Jungkook said, his voice bitter. “Testing people's limits, making sure everyone knew she had the upper hand. But I didn’t play along, and maybe that pissed her off. Who knows?”

Yoongi tapped his fingers against the table, his gaze never leaving Jungkook. “You need to give us more than that. If you want us to help you, we need something concrete.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow raised, he was shifting his eyes from me and Yoongi. I looked away, avoiding his gaze. “Help me? Since when are you two playing detectives?”

I rolled my eyes. "We are trying to help you out." I snapped and Jungkook shifted in his seat, letting out a deep sigh of defeat.

The tension in the room thickened, and I felt a pang of guilt watching Jungkook sitting there, defiant but vulnerable. I glanced at Yoongi, his steely demeanor unwavering as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Do you know for how long you will be captive here?" I finally asked. Jungkook shrugged. "No idea, until they find an evidence that the killer was not me." "What happens to the comapny now?" I pressed, "is it gonna shut down?" "I will take over." Yoongi muttered, "for the time being, until Jungkook gets released." I frowned glancing at Jungkook who hummed, I guess they managed to talk this through.  "Fine, we will keep digging and see what we will find."  "We?" My Boss frowned, "Y/N, I don't want you to get involved in this." "See?!Told her the same thingg, she doesn't listen." "Stop blabbing about the same things, I want in and I want to help. You two, adult men, act like kids. Jungkook, your situation here is not colorful at all. The quicker we get you out, the quick it would be your name to be cleared in front of the media." -

The sharp chill of the late evening air greeted us as we stepped out of the police station. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, my mind still racing with everything that had just transpired. Jungkook’s face, a mixture of frustration and vulnerability, was etched in my memory.

“I’ll call a cab,” I muttered, fishing my phone out of my bag.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, stepping toward the parking lot. “Don’t bother. I’ll drive you.”

I stopped mid-dial and turned to him. “No offense, but I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

His expression didn’t change, but there was an edge of impatience in his voice. “Why? Because I’m not the most charming chauffeur? Or are you still mad at me for that club thing-y?”

“Neither,” I said quickly, my tone defensive. “It’s just... I don’t need you to babysit me, Yoongi. I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” he said dryly, gesturing to my phone. “And you’ll do that by waiting alone outside a police station at night for a cab? Genius plan.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped when I realized how ridiculous it would sound. With a resigned sigh, I slid my phone back into my bag. “Fine. But no commentary while you drive.”

“Deal,” he said with a small smirk, leading the way to his car.

The ride started in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. Yoongi’s driving was calm and efficient, and for some reason, it annoyed me that he didn’t seem as rattled by everything as I was.

“Yesterday,” I began, breaking the silence, “when I was cleaning out Tina’s desk... I found something.”

He glanced at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “The journal.”

I blinked, surprised. “How did you—”

"Do you think I am that stupid?"  There was silence, he narrowed his eyes, "don't even answer this, Y/N." I chuckled at that and shrugged my shoulders. "I saw you take a suspicious looking book off Tina's desk without the police looking so..." "I figured that it's better to find who did it first with a solid evidence, before turning it to the police." I hesitated but continued, “It’s... disturbing. Tina wrote about people she hated—colleagues, clients, even... me.”

Yoongi didn’t react visibly, but I caught his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

“She was ruthless,” I continued. “Manipulating people, sabotaging careers—it’s all in there. And then there are these cryptic entries about a ‘deal.’ She doesn’t say who it was with, but it’s obvious it was risky. She mentioned being scared, like she knew it might backfire.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “And now she’s dead.”

I swallowed hard, the reality of it hitting me again. “Yeah. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Someone she crossed or someone involved in that deal... they might have wanted her gone.”

“You said the police don’t know about it yet?” he asked, his voice tense.

“No,” I admitted. “I didn’t trust them to handle it the right way, especially with the way they’re already treating Jungkook.”

“Smart,” Yoongi said, nodding approvingly. “But if that journal is as explosive as you say, keeping it quiet might put you in danger.”

I bit my lip, anxiety bubbling in my chest. “I know. But what choice do I have? If it can help clear Jungkook’s name, I can’t just ignore it.”

Yoongi pulled into a quieter street, the streetlights casting long shadows over the car. He turned to me, his dark eyes serious. “You’re not doing this alone, Y/N. Whatever’s in that journal, we’re going to figure it out together.”

For a moment, his words surprised me. Despite his often aloof demeanor, there was an unexpected warmth in his voice.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, meaning it.

He nodded once and turned his attention back to the road, the rest of the drive passing in contemplative silence.

When we finally reached my place, he parked at the curb and leaned back in his seat. “Keep the journal close. Don’t let anyone else see it for now.”

“I won’t,” I assured him, opening the door.

As I stepped out, he called after me, “And Y/N?”

I paused, turning back.

“Be careful,” he said, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

I nodded, clutching my bag tightly as I headed up to my apartment, the weight of the journal—and everything it represented—feeling heavier than ever.

[sweetismyaddiction]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Fic masterlist | Masterlist

SUCROSE

Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love

Word account: 1199

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, friends to lovers

A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like, and comment. I am accepting suggestions for the next parts (should I already tell about the nicknames?). Please be nice. The Gif is not mine. Credits to the oner

Chapter 1: Derek Morgan, next door

Y/N’s Point of View

The water ran warm against my skin, a relaxing shower was all I needed after one very busy day serving and cleaning, which was not the worst part of the job, the worst part certainly was the clients themselves.

I had a playlist on to help me relax, thank god I had the day off and would go just to the night shift today, so it is a study and cleaning house day. But a noise interfire my peace day. Noises that come from outside.

In the corridor someone knocked on a door calling a name, Spencer’s name… I finished my bath, put on my robe and with my towel dried a little of my hair just taking the exes of the water then brushing it. I came out just in time to see someone kicking down my door and entering my apartment holding a gun.

“What are you doing?”

The man is a black big man, he looks around and then to me still holding his gun pointing it to me.

“Where is Spencer Reid?”

“Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment? Why did you break my door?”

The last sentence was a scream, I can’t believe that a random dude broke my door for no reason. Can’t he see numbers?

“I am SSA Derek Morgan. Now, where is Reid?”

Morgan, the name rings in my ears. Spencer talked about him so many times. Apparently they are friends and coworkers, he can break Spencer’s door, not my door!

“Spencer’s door is the other one.” I point to the one just across the hall. “But relax big man, you do not need to break another door, I have the key, just wait in here and let me put some clothes on. Do not let anyone into my apartment. And put that gun down. Jesus”

Is this a thing? You have to be handsome to join the FBI? After putting a light dress and getting the key I get back to my living room, where that delight for tired eyes wait, he remains stoic, rigid, so tense. Should I be worried?

Knocking soft on the door and calling his name I warne Spencer that me and Morgan are coming in. No response, and the place is immaculate, everything in the right place.

“He must be asleep, he has been very tired those couple weeks. I am going to check his room.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah. What? There is something I should know? He is contagious? A zombie? No? Ok, so I am totally fine going by myself.”

I walk slowly into his room, it is dark and quiet.

“Sugarpout? Spence?”

A peaceful breathing is heard when closer to the bed, he is involved in his blankets, is the sights of heaven, my heart gets warm seeing Spencer resting peacefully.

I sit at the bed and run my hand delicately in his soft hair before resetting it in his forehead checking his temperature, he moves a little moaning in protest.

“Shh… it's me Sugarpout, it is ok, you can keep sleeping”

Is a very quiet whisper as I place a tender kiss to his forehead leaving my boy there, his hand landing on top of mine making me smile, as quiet as I entered his bedroom is as I live.

Just at the room door, Derek looks at us, I just make a signal to him to keep quiet and we are back to Spencer’s living room.

“So… you seemed troubled. There is something I should know? Is something wrong with Spencer?”

“Why do you have his keys?”

“Cause I live just across the hall?”

Who does he think he is to interrogate me?

“Serious? That 's why? Common, hot stuff, Reid didn't make a move on that gorgeous woman? Man, he really doesn't have material… or does he?”

Flirtatious Morgan, Reid said he was just like that, all charming. Just bark, don’t bite. Well… I don’t think girls would mind if he bites them, I recognize good stuff when I see it.

“Changing subject that quickly? What are you avoiding agent?”

He just looked at me, no verbal answer, heavy shoulders unmatched with the flirt smile on his face… for a profiler he isn't that good in hiding emotions.

“Seriously” a puff of air came out of me. “Is everything okay with him?”

“Yes, Reid is fine. I… was just worried, we had a hard case and he wasn’t answering the phone…”

“I believe you”

“So… why the keys?”

“I live very close, we are friends and I am his food stealer”

 I blinked at the man with a dirty smile in my face mixed with my sweet traces.

“Food stealer?”

“He is out, I need something, I enter his apartment, I grab what I need, and then I come back to my place. Simple”

“Are you confessing a crime to an FBI agent?”

“A crime against another agent. And the other agent is very aware of what I do in his hose”

“Sorry about the door”

“It’s okay, it is nice to know Sugarpout have friend that really care about him”

It is impossible not to smile, I care so much about the genius boy. Knowing other people also care about him warmes my insides, it is really good to know he is well protected in the field.

“Sugarpout?”

My eyes almost fall out of my face. Shit! It is a private nickname.

“Don’t. Do not, ever, ever, talk about it to anyone, It is private, and especial, so please…”

“Okay, a secret. Someday you will tell me?”

“Maybe”

Derek Morgan lives his card with me. He waited about 30 minutes talking to me, but it seemed Spencer wouldn't wake up so soon, so Derek decided to go home, but promised to pay for my door. In my opinion it was the very minimum he could do, but them we have a talk, and his caring by Spencer was more than enough for me to forget about my broken door.

“Sugar?”

“Hey, Sugarpout, did you sleep well?”

I smile going to start to prepare something for him to eat.

“How long have I sleeped?”

“Something around two hours, you needed it. Morgan passed by, and broke my door”

“He what?”

“Broke my door. He was knocking, no one opened, then he kicked in. But surprise, surprise. It was the wrong door.”

“Sorry”

“It is not your fault, and he is going to pay for the repair, he was just worried because you didn’t answer the phone, and the last case was hard. I assume you basically blacked out from exhaustion so I decided to let you sleep.”

The toast is ready as is the coffee, the black coffee with tons of sugar.

“Here you go Sugarpout, you need to eat, and then you should call your people. I am not asking about the case. Just a reminder that you can talk about anything with me anytime, I am just one door away.”

I kiss his head, before going back to my place. I could tell he needed a moment alone to call his friends, especially Derek after what I vaguely told him.

---------------------------------------------------------

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Fic masterlist | Masterlist

[pennyellee]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

title: champagne confetti pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 release date: 24.1.2024 23:00/11 PM CEST - 17:00/5 PM EDT

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem and m receiving), spanking, implied cum swallowing, creampie, soft yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so, ehm, this story got way outta my hands, it was supposed to be a goddamn rom-com with enemies to lovers trope - i wanted to build around the character trope of Rachel Green from Friends because she is my favourite character of all times, what i wanted to build around was how Rachel was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went in a different direction. Nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this fic and i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much. See you on the 24th chummers, love you! 🩵

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink?—” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you couldn't help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—”

.

.

.

read here

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy - @mylyus-blog - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim

ps: lemme know if you want to be additionally tagged! 🩵

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist. 

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling.  “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?” 

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell. 

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these. 

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’? 

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing. 

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now. 

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

[samfucker]

gulp... darlin hcs... this is kinda long... i use he/they pronouns here. hes a cis dude in my eyes i just type they out of instinct.

hes called julius

mexican-asian! (their dad is mexican, their mom is cambodian. they were born in mexico but moved to washington when their dad got a better job opportunity.)

his dad has a teardrop tattoo and one of those "cut here" tattoos on his neck. he's also blind in one eye

their mom is beautiful but #evil. she always had her nails painted dark red

julius' favourite colour is dark red

he got 4 siblings!! hes the middle.

their older sister was the typical 2000s teen girl. ik yall are envisioning the hairstyle im talking about. she also brags about how she loved leopard print before it got popular.

also shes a kesha lover. now she listens to chappell roan. she IS casual.

as an adult, their younger brother works with animals! their older sister has an online job and their older brother is a mechanic. their younger sister is in college and julius hates her bf. the one sided beef is crazy. theyve never even met in person.

he did boxing as a teen and his little sister used to do dance

ik more of the fandom wants them to have happy childhood BUT NOT ME!!!!!!1

BOOM UR PARENTS SUCK!!

their dad sold their wii for drug money (am i projecting)

their mom is worst than their dad muahahahahah

they had a saint bernard called Pooch growing up and a yappy little chihuahua that his mom loved. that dog also refused to die. like im talking this dog got attacked by a bigger dog and had a tumor and got hit by a car and survived. by the time the dog died it had a leg missing and was blind. the vet bills were crazy

even tho their parents were shitty, they could never bring themselves to hate them even though they wanted to. when either of them would pass out on the couch, he'd cover them with a blanket and clean the living room and kitchen. when his mom would be upset, he'd sit and listen to her even tho she never did the same to him

he doesnt talk to his parents now and he makes jokes about what he went thru to cope, but he wonders if they're doing okay, if they got healed and became better people or if they passed away and they never knew.

the bond they had with their unempowered friend was the same bond asher, david and milo have. his friend was called trevor.

julius was trevors first kiss because trevor complained about feeling like a loser since everyone started dating around their teen years LMFAO

their first concert was a metallica one that they went to with quinn

they worked as a waiter for a while as a teenager and had a work bestie that was like 40

guyliner...........

I STOLE THIS HC FROM A FIC IVE READ IF YOU FIND IT PLZ LMK SO I CAN CREDIT!! but they worked in a fighting ring at one point

my own add on to the same hc: during this time, they had a shitty little apartment and the most decorated space was a dresser dedicated to their fish, soda pop. that fish was spoiled as fuck and he cried when soda pop died

he frequented a diner to the point the lady behind the counter knew his order beat for beat

when they were teenagers, asher took inspo from their style. they used to wear those little black wrist bands with the little spikes (do yall know what im talking about) and thats where ashers love for his spiked collar came from

they do not have a single pair of blank socks. they all have some sort of stupid design on them

also ofc, the rubber duck, courtesy of domini.

they hate haircuts

they HATE the grocery store. they get overstimulated and wanna die immediately.

best meal theyve ever made for themselves is mac and cheese. from those little boxes.

aggro bit them one time and theyre still upset over it

TATTED AS FAWK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and they have piercings GODDDD THEYRE SO FINE

they also have sharp canines (im bouta bust)

i know yall want asher to have heterochromia but i hc julius has it. HOWEVER! I hc asher has anisocoria (one pupil bigger than the other). they bond over having eye conditions

they also fell out of a tree in the middle of the woods one time and cracked their head open and broke their leg and had to limp home

the first ever scar he got was on his chin when he and his brother were pushing each other around (as brothers do) and julius fell and cut his chin open. its very faded now, but his brother brings it up somtimes

one time, out of boredome, he ran away from his brother at the store

his little sister would hide between clothes in the store and would need to be called for on the intercom

i have more. theyre my fav listener. all my hcs go to them.

[thepascalofus]

Supply Run - Return (part two)

AO3

PART ONE

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Chapter Summary: While Mando takes a trip to the market and gets what he needs, he ponders your relationship and what it means to him.

Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only! Switching POVs, post season 2, the Crest lives, strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of Grogu, soft!Mando, insecure!Mando (a smidge), helmet loopholes, pining, idiots in love, jealous!reader, sad!reader for a little, mentions of sex work (sex work is work!), eventual SMUT (making out, grinding, f!receiving fingering, f!receiving oral sex, p in v, PRAISE kink, dirty talk), FLUFF, cuddling, happy ending guaranteed!

A/N: Thank you all so much for the responses on the first part! This is my first fic that I've ever shared and it makes me so happy that other people enjoy my writing! Enjoy!

Mando handed his scope off to you in the worn down store. Wallpaper peeled from the ancient wooden planks of the walls. Cobwebs littered the untouched areas of the store. The work stations in the back, visible from the pick up counter at the front, were in complete disarray. Several projects started, but not finished. Several projects finished, but not retrieved.

You took the scope in your hand and twisted it in your hands until your gaze landed on the name of the manufacturer and the serial number. Your eyebrows shot up once the brand of the scope was revealed, it twisted in your hands once more. Hands raising the metal tube so it was level with your eyes, you looked into the scope. 

“Ah! I know what it is!”

Mando watched in confusion as you ran to a workstation and grabbed a singular tool. How did you know what was wrong so quickly? He sat in the hull of the Crest for hours attempting to fix the scope. The motions of taking the scope apart and putting it back together were etched into his brain from the number of times he did so. 

You returned to the front of the store with the tool in hand. “This manufacturer has been having these issues lately. They built their magnification system like no one else, but they didn’t seem to account for the need to recalibrate the scope every once in a while. Recalibrating too often causes the lenses to misalign.” 

Mando calibrated his every day. He had to. It was part of his job. A miscalibration could be the difference between a two hour hunt and a twelve hour hunt.

Your face twisted in concentration as you inserted the tool into the side of the scope. Jostling the metal, it popped open and allowed access to the inside. “For some reason they put these weird pins in…” You trailed off while you removed a total of three thin metal pins. Once the pins were removed, you clicked the top of the scope back into place and handed it to Mando.

Mando previously took the scope apart countless times. He never noticed any pins.

“Twenty credits, please.” You said with a smile. Your gaze met his–you somehow found it through his black visor–and you maintained eye contact.

The display on the inside of Mando’s helmet only progressed seven minutes after he entered the store. Inside of his helmet his eyebrows shot up. He was impressed. Not only with your efficiency, but with the reasonable price as well.

“I’m impressed.” He stated. Nodding at you, he retrieved a few credits from his utility belt and set them on the paint chipped counter. He turned and walked a few paces and then stopped in front of the door.

He’s been looking for a crew mate for weeks. The potential candidates he’s stumbled across were either annoying, rude, or incompetent. Throughout his time as a bounty hunter he’s been to countless repair shops. The service was always lack-luster, prices were too high, repair time much too long. 

Sure, he just met you eight minutes ago, but you had potential. He turned on his heel and faced you. Armor glinted in the low lighting of the run down shop. 

“Are you in the market for a new job?”

–

Walking to the market, he’d been reflecting on his decision to bring you onto the Crest as a crew partner.

It was the best decision he ever made, besides saving Grogu from the Empire.

You were intelligent. Friendly. Resourceful. Efficient. Brave.

You stared a Mandalorian straight in the eyes–well, visor–and didn’t even flinch. You didn’t even break eye contact, unlike everyone else. People would turn to whoever they’re with to avoid his gaze. They spoke like he wasn’t a meter or two away–and like he couldn’t amplify their voices with his helmet.

His tall, broad stance usually set everyone on edge. The heavy weight of beskar armor, a reminder of his skillset, didn’t aid in calming the nerves of anyone either. He was typically soft spoken around others, as he noticed people’s reactions when he spoke–eyes wide, speech stuttering, shaking hands–scared. 

Everyone was afraid of him.

Except you.

When you first boarded the Razor Crest, Mando was extremely careful in making sure you were comfortable. The majority of his days not hunting were spent in the cockpit or in his bunk. Whenever you crossed paths in the hull you offered him a small smile and quickly looked away. Did your bravery fade away?

He came back from a hunt one day, quarry in tow, and he was relieved to hear, “How was your day?” Fall from your lips once the bounty was in carbonite.

Still cautious–mindful of how the modulator made his voice sound–he kept his answers short and to the point.

“Fine.”

“Busy.”

“Awful.”

Hearing the four words you said after each return from a hunt, and being able to give you a response without you slinking away, made the hunts worth it.

One night always stood out in his mind. It was just like any other return from one of his hunts. Mando dragged the quarry up the Crest’s ramp by a cord tied around their ankles. He lifted the man to stand up, doing so effortlessly with a few grunts to spare. 

Your living space was in the hull, so he always tried to make the ends of his hunts fast. You didn’t have any choice but to watch. Mando didn’t want to make you watch for too long. Maker, he didn’t want you to watch at all.

His fist slammed the button to begin the freezing process. Breathing heavily, he stood and watched the bounty as they froze into the carbonite cell. A blanket of silence covered the hull once the hissing of the freezing mechanisms came to a stop.

“How was your day?”

There it is. His favorite part after the hunt. Knowing you were there, safe within the hull, and that you wanted to be friendly with him–even after witnessing him freeze a person he tracked down for several hours.

“Nothing you want to hear about,” he replied, his voice tinged with tiredness. The helmet’s modulator most likely didn’t register the sleep in his voice. Truly, he didn’t think that you would want to hear about it. The Mandalorian was afraid that hearing about his hunts would put you on edge. You already extended a branch of friendliness to him twice a day. He didn’t want to give that up by talking about the bounties he tracks down.

“Try me.”

Those words.

Those words have only ever been spoken to him by enemies. It always caused annoyance to wash over him, head to toe. He’s a Mandalorian. Confident of his skills in combat. No matter the odds, Mando knew he would like them.

But when those words tumbled from your lips, it was different. When his enemies weren’t scared of him, it was annoying. When you weren’t scared of him, adoration filled his body. And not adoration in a patronizing way, but adoration as a form of respect. 

It made him want you that much more.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Mando realized the crotch of his pants were tight. Nonchalantly, he clasped his hands together and rested them below his belt.

“Quarry tried to escape and they ran. Would have been back four hours ago,” the modulator gritted out. Again, he was conscious of how the modulator warped his voice. “Not too fun,” he added in an attempt to make the conversation more casual.

You were silent. He whispered a curse to himself under his helmet, one that he was certain wouldn’t be picked up by his modulator. Was his answer too much? Mando quickly became nervous and started to shift his weight from one foot to the other. The silence you left in the air made him a bit anxious.

The T shape of his visor peered over to you. You stood still in shock, reminiscent of the people that saw him in public. Before his thoughts could spiral too much, you replied, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Dank farrik. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to comfort him. “You don’t have to be sorry,” his chest brushed against your shoulder as he swiftly hopped onto the first rung of the ladder up to the cockpit. “It’s my job.”

“That doesn’t mean it sucks any less,” you said. He smiled underneath his helmet at your consideration. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed as you realized what you said, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that your job sucks.”

You weren’t wrong. Making his way through tough terrain, relying on a blinking red light on a piece of metal to guide him. Finding them was a task in itself, but dragging them back to the Crest was the other half of his job that sucked. Mando looked over his shoulder at you and replied matter-of-factly, “My job does suck.”

A giggle bubbled out from your chest. Every once in a while you would be reading a funny article on your Holopad and your laughs would echo through the hull of the Crest, making their way up into the cockpit. He needed more of them. His silver helmet shook slightly from side to side and he turned back to climb the ladder. But not before he also let out a small chuckle.

If you were comfortable enough to stand up to him, and laugh at his awful attempts at jokes–after he just hauled a bounty onto the ship–Mando realized he was safe.

Not only were you safe with him. He felt safe with you, in more ways than one.

Kriff it. You extended a friendly attitude towards him–a faceless warrior covered in impenetrable armor–then he could extend a friendly attitude towards you as well.

You asked him about this day, both in the mornings and the evenings. He learned about what you like and didn’t like. One item stood out to him. Caf. He always entered into a cloud of caf scent when he sauntered into the hull in the mornings. Mando was usually up before you, so he figured he would start making you a cup every morning. Confident enough in knowing which kinds of caf you preferred, he would stock up on caf every supply run.

The Mandalorian got closer to you, both physically and emotionally. Sometimes he would catch his hands landing on your waist or your lower back when he passed you on the ship. You’d shoot him a small smile in response. The distance he kept from you only decreased. He wanted to see your smile more and more. 

One thing he didn’t see coming was your interest in Mando’a. He would mumble to himself in the ship while completing various tasks.

“What’s that word mean?” You’d occasionally ask. The Mandalorian would explain their meanings, sometimes struggling to translate the word to Basic.

He must have taught you at least two dozen words in Mando’a by now. Each time you asked you would give him your full attention. 

At night, if he amplified the sound with his helmet enough, he could hear you practicing the words and recalling their meanings. It motivated him to share more words with you.

–

All of these experiences have led to this day. He’s been planning it for a month or two now. 

He wants to ask you on a date. Nerves bubbled up from his stomach and throughout his body. They suddenly came to a halt. 

Not now. First, he needs to collect information on a quarry.

Lost in his thoughts, he looked up and the market filled his vision with you in his peripheral. It wasn’t too busy, part of the reason why he was comfortable enough for you to shop on your own. He clarified the meet up point to you and watched as you took off. You had a bounce in your step, probably due to your excitement at shopping alone. 

Once he meandered further into the market he began to collect information. This market was the bounty’s last location. Mando’s guess was that he either simply wanted to be in a small city, gambled their life savings away, or they paid for visit after visit with the workers at the brothel until they ran out of credits.

Only one way to find out. The gambling and brothels didn’t start up until later in the afternoon. To kill the time, and to possibly find the quarry, Mando wandered throughout the different sections of the market. 

He asked a few vendors about the bounty. Mando described the man to many market sellers and only got a slight lead from one woman donned in patterned fabrics. 

“I think he went that way,” the woman gestured with one of her hands towards an intersection, “Take the left path. I don’t know anything else beyond that.”

Mando dropped a few credits into her hand and gave her a polite nod, “Thank you.” He continued on and curved his gait to take the left path. From the signs and general merchandise displayed on each stall, he knew he was entering the clothing section of the market.

The helmet covering his head swiveled from left to right and right to left. No one matched the description of his quarry. Repeating his previous process, he made his way down the stall-lined alley and asked a couple different vendors.

Once the last vendor finished talking, and provided him with another lead, he dug his hand into his pocket and slid the credits on the stall’s counter towards them. Turning his back towards the vendor, his feet carried him two steps back into the market.

Then he saw you.

You stood hunched over a table of colorful bracelets. Tapping his fingers to the temple of his helmet, Mando zoomed in and the helmet displayed your face to him, deep in thought. Looking down, you were hovering your hands over a grid of various green bracelets. 

You stopped on one. Mostly brown, almost too much to be in the green section, Mando thought. Nonetheless, the green and silver streaks peeked in and out of the thick threads of brown that made up the bracelet. Your fingers sorted through the sizes of the bracelet and selected one that looked close to your size. 

Clutching it in one hand, the other hand searched for another of the same bracelet. It was larger than the previous size. You set the smaller bracelet down and tested the strings. The bracelet was adjustable, and you smiled at the discovery.

You transferred the bracelets onto the table of the stall and used one hand to dig into your pockets. Palm held out flat, Mando guessed that about twenty credits sat in your palm. He followed your gaze to the sign listing the prices.

PRICES

1 bracelet = 15 credits

2 = 30 credits

3 = 45 credits

4 = 60 credits

Shoulders falling, you dropped the credits back into your pocket and returned the bracelets to their original spot in the grid of green. Ground crunched beneath your shoes as you turned and continued wandering through the market.

Mando noted it was the third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Not wanting you to realize he saw you, the Mandalorian walked in the opposite direction you took. After twenty minutes he noticed that the stalls became much more strange than the stalls in the clothing section of the market. Peering at the different products for sale, he saw a potions shop offering “super strength elixir” and a vendor selling various pet-like creatures. A few more vendors passed his peripheral vision as he continued his strides. They came to a stop once a building larger than the surrounding stalls came into view.

His helmet tilted upwards to read the sign displayed front and center on the large building: BROTHEL.

Tapping the side of his helmet, the time on the helmet’s display indicated that the brothel and gambling scenes had just begun. Mando tapped the temple of his helmet once again and the warm bodies within the building lit up, like he had x-ray vision. He counted a dozen in total. One body stood in the same spot inside near an entryway–the bouncer, Mando thought.

The bouncer was the individual that allowed access in and out of the building. If their memory was decent, they would be like a living guest book. Mando figured he could bribe them to reveal information, which was his usual plan with most of the beings he spoke with.

He sauntered over to the side of the building the bouncer was standing at. A singular light flickered over the side door, the sun was still out, so Mando was confused why it was on. The beskar helmet observed the side door.

Metal. Double deadbolts. Keypad on the left side. Small slit at eye level–neck level for the Mandalorian.

As soon as he crouched down to look near the slit, it slid open and revealed a thick pair of black eyebrows. Black eyes bore into the brow of Mando’s helmet, as the bouncer couldn’t seem to find his eyes. 

“Do you have an appointment?” The bouncer asked. The voice behind the door was gruff, as if the words had to crawl from the depths of his throat. 

“No,” Mando responded.

Black eyes blinked and then disappeared when the bouncer closed the metal slit. 

Mando was taken aback and furrowed his brow. His fist pounded on the door. He just wanted this hunt to be over with. He wanted to get back to you.

The slit in the door revealed two black eyes once more.

“I have credits and will pay you if you give me information on a client your establishment may have served.” Mando’s modulator gritted out loudly. Straight and to the point. All business. 

Eyes disappeared again, but were then accompanied with the sounds of the deadbolts unlocking. The metal door swung open to reveal a man dressed in all black with a silver name tag. Black hair matched the rest of his ensemble. 

Still holding the door, the bouncer asked, “What’s the bounty look like?”

An eyebrow raised inside Mando’s helmet, but he figured the bouncer knew the drill by now. Even other bounty hunters knew that brothels were what many bounties visited. A gloved hand unbuttoned a pocket on his belt and retrieved a bounty puck. Clicking the side of it, the puck displayed the quarry. 

The man stepped out of the doorway and onto the pavement, pulling the door closed behind him. His black eyes slightly squinted when his gaze trailed up and down the hologram.

“Ah yeah, I’ve seen this guy. He has a type, always goes for the blondes.” 

“Does he have any upcoming appointments?” Mando questioned.

The bouncer sighed in thought and pulled a small notepad from his pocket. Mando mirrored the man’s motion and produced a pen and notepad from his pocket. 

“The guy has an appointment in two days. He just asked to see a blonde. Figures.” The man shrugged and opened his notepad. Mando noticed it was a planner, and the bouncer flipped to the pages for the appointments two days from today.

“Which workers would take him as a client?” Mando’s modulator churned the words. His pen clicked as he readied himself to write.

The man donned in black made a fist with one hand and raised a finger with each name, “Ari. Taima. And Nomi. They would be in rooms one, five, or seven.”

Wow, Mando thought, this guy really knew the drill. He quickly finished up writing down the names and room numbers of each worker. The pen scratched feverishly against the cream colored paper, leaving behind black strokes to form letters and numbers. Notepad folding closed and the pen clicking, signifying the end of his notes, Mando returned the pen and paper to their place in his pocket. His opposing hand reached into a different pocket and produced a sizable amount of credits. Feeling generous, thankful that this hunt was going to be quick, he compensated the bouncer handsomely.

First task done. Second task on the horizon.

Creaking produced from the hinges of the metal door as the bouncer disappeared behind it once more. Flickering light gleamed off the beskar armor that protected the Mandalorian in combat. Although he wasn’t going into combat, because he wouldn’t be nervous if he was. 

Mando trained most of his life with the greatest warriors in the galaxy. Combat flowed through his blood easily. It was a part of him. 

But he was never trained on how to ask people out on dates.

On top of that, he was never trained on how to ask you out on a date.

He didn’t want to misread the situation. You could just be friendly. Who would want to date a man and not know what he looks like? Who would want to constantly live on a ship, without a permanent home? 

Being Mando, he prepared for the worst. If you said no, he figured that you would be uncomfortable living with the man who asked you out on a date. Knowing that he’s attracted to you. He would fly wherever you wanted and give you some credits to get started. Kriff, he’d send credits for however long it takes for you to get on your feet. Then he’d leave you alone. 

Admittedly, the Mandalorian would probably keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe. You just wouldn’t know he’s there.

But if you said yes.

Mando’s chest bloomed with anticipation. Firework-like tingles trailed up and down his limbs at the thought. He bit his lip within the confines of his helmet when he realized his pants had gotten tighter. Thankfully he was a Mandalorian, because heat washed over his face, half due to arousal and the other half in embarrassment.

The brown eyes underneath the helmet widened. If he wanted to do more with you and you agreed, he didn’t have protection.

Turning on his heel, cape whipping behind him, he made a quick pace back to the brothel.

Once he arrived at the gray building, the light at the side of the building having more of a purpose, Mando glided towards the same door as before. Bringing a fist up to the metal, he knocked three times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Clink. Shhhkt.

“Do you sell condoms?” the modulator quickly blurted.

All business.

—

He arrived at the meet up point before you. Leaning against a nearby tree, Mando checked the time constantly, as if he was devoted to the action more than his Creed. If you were late, he always went looking. 

Thankfully, you trudged up to the food stall on time with a hefty bag full of purchases. Fine, brown gravel grinded against the soles of Mando’s shoes as he made his way over to you. His gloved hand slipped the bag from your grasp and the pair of you began walking back to the Crest.

Both of you carried on with your normal post-supply run routines. You and Mando, but this time just Mando, piled the purchases from the market onto the hull’s floor. From there, the items could be sorted through and put in their respective places around the Crest.

As Mando finished unloading the large bag of purchases, he quickly dug around for the receipts. He knew how much you liked to review the shopping haul each time a supply run was completed. Mando enjoyed seeing the satisfaction wash over your face after you read over the receipts.

But this time was different. You froze once you got to the last receipt.

Mando’s helmet tilted in confusion. He took a few steps closer towards you, “What’s wrong? Did we forget something?”

You remained still while your eyes darted over the lines on the receipt. With your back turned to him, Mando found the opportunity to zoom in on the ink printed on the flimsy paper.

ITEMS PURCHASED (1)

CONDOM - 12 PACK

Oh. Fuck. FUCK.

He hasn’t even asked you on a date yet and now you probably already think he’s a perv. Nerves took over his body as you continued to stand still.

Your hand quickly crushed the receipts and threw them in the trash, “Nope! The last receipt didn’t look familiar but,” you trailed off slightly but recovered, “I remembered what I bought from the place.” A nervous laugh–obviously fake, Mando knew what your real one sounded like–escaped from your lips.

He fucked it up. You knew he was interested in you like that. And you didn’t feel the same. He hasn’t even asked you on the date yet. It’s all screwed up now.

But he also felt like he didn’t have enough evidence. What if you did like him but the idea of…needing to use the condoms…made you nervous.

Mando had to at least try. The least he had to do was ask you.

He cleared his throat and grabbed the bag off of the floor. You stood away from him, biting the inside of your cheek, nervously watching his movements. 

“I’m going to go to the night market,” he informed you, “I have some business with a bounty I need to take care of.” 

The bounty wouldn’t be captured until two days from now. In reality, he was really going to go and purchase snacks, takeout, and a pair of those bracelets you admired. It would have been suspicious if he met you back at the meet up point with bags full of snacks. The beskar man figured it would be best to hold off on buying them until later, and tell you he was getting a bounty, so you wouldn’t catch on.

He should’ve waited for this second trip to buy the condoms, he thought.

–

Mando left to, “Go to the night market,” he said. You saw the condom listed on the market receipts, you knew where he went tonight. What he’s going to do. 

The brothels.

Yeah, sure, he’s paying a worker to give him a service. No feelings attached. But you didn’t want him to be with anyone else. Was Mando necessarily yours? No. Have you ever had sex with him? Also no.

That didn’t stop you from getting jealous.

And it wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. What if he fell in love with one of them? Or what if he was going on dates? He could have a romantic interest you don’t even know about. Next thing you know, they’re going steady and you’re kicked off the ship. Or worse, you have to watch him love someone that isn’t you.

No more silence with him in the cockpit, watching as the hyperspace lights soar past the windshield. Feet tapping down the ladder as you both began your nighttime routines. He’d wait in the hull near the door of the fresher in just his helmet, undershirt, sleep pants, and socks. As he lifted off the wall from his leaning stance he’d ask you, “Are you done?” Holding his own hands in front of him, trying to seem relaxed, as if he was trying to look less intimidating. “Yeah,” you’d quickly respond, leaving the fresher and brushing past him. Sometimes his hand found your waist as he passed, or the small of your back. “Thank you,” he’d grunt gently as he closed the fresher door. 

No more of Mando letting out a small, “Good night,” before lingering on your closing eyes and watching as your lips smiled, forming your response, “Good night.” 

Falling asleep, you knew you’d wake up to him. He would be up before you on most days, leaving you a fresh cup of caf and your favorite ration pack (when he had them). The short chatter between you two, going over the logistics of the next hunt, telling stories from your past, or just thinking out loud to each other. Gone.

You would be banished from home.

The fear struck your chest. Heat searing through your ribcage and meeting your spine, the visions repeated over and over in your head. Tears fell like waterfalls from your eyes. Most streams connected underneath your chin and trailed down your neck. Your back met the hull’s wall as you sank down onto the floor. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Your head was heavy and numb.

Just breathe. You knew you weren’t going to die. Go through some heartbreak? Maybe, but you knew you’d be alive. It helped. Your breath slowed and the fear dissipated into the air around you. That didn’t stop the flow of tears down your cheeks as your eyes were fixed on the closed ramp.

–

Mando’s footsteps set a steady pace back to the market.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

He displayed a map of the marketplace as an overlay on the display of his helmet. Mando usually reserved this practice for combat to aid in determining exit strategies and the best plan of attack.

But now he was using it to calculate the most efficient route throughout the marketplace in order to see you again sooner. 

Closing the overlay from the helmet’s display, he was met with the sight of the market. Long strings of lights decorated the different stalls. Many vendors took advantage of the dark and used different, bright combinations to reel in customers. Some lights were multicolored. Some flashing. Some huge and some small. He thought of the “ooh”s, and, “ahh”s that you would let out at the brilliant display.

The Mandalorian started in the food section of the market. Carefully examining which vendors carried your favorite snacks, he made purchase after purchase in quick succession. His helmet remained on a swivel, scanning the stalls from right to left and left to right. 

A stall offering your favorite kind of takeout came into view.

Once Mando arrived at the stall he ordered two takeout meals. The vendor looked startled and confused as he ordered. They shakily accepted the credits for the two meals. Gazes drifted away from Mando and quickly returned as he stood waiting for the meals to be prepared. A bell rang and he retrieved two warm containers, placing them in his bag alongside the snacks.

One last stop. The bracelets.

Marching through the food district, he came upon an intersection at which the left path led him to the clothing district. Yet again, his helmet pivoted on his neck from one side to another. 

The third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Mando continued his steady pace until the bright green stall came into view. The brightness of the exterior paint was exaggerated by the warm light emitted by lanterns, which decorated the outside of the shop. He didn’t notice before but the store sold children’s clothes. Onesies. Small shoes. Tiny hats.

A small tunic. Small enough for a human child younger than one year old. The tunic reminded him of Grogu’s. Mando’s bare hands brushed against the material countless times as he cradled The Child in his arms.

The last time he spoke about Grogu was with you. You listened and offered support. He’s never had anyone do that for him.

His visor turned to his left. The soft fairy lights of the stall reflected off of the beskar helmet on his head. As if the beskar reflected a dark sky decorated with bright stars. Various fabrics hung from the side of the vendor’s stall to cover the old wooden planks. Little accessories were placed throughout the shop on different tables and displays. 

Mando wasn’t focused on those items, he was focused on the long table of bracelets organized by color. His feet carried him to the green section. The helmet turned downwards to allow him to observe the selection. 

Shit.

There were so many bracelets similar to the pair you held, just all in different combinations of green, silver, and brown. Was it the bracelet with the large green cord and the small silver and brown threads? Or the one with the large silver cord and green and brown threads? Or thick brown cord with streaks of green and silver? His hands hovered over the options, doing his best to recall the details from earlier in the day.

“It’s this one,” a woman’s voice said.

A bit startled, the Mandalorian looked up and found a woman standing on the other side of the table. She wore long robes with intricate patterns. Jewelry decorated every limb and part of her body, like jewels were dripping down from her skin from a storm of gemstones. Hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. Her smile was kind and her gaze met Mando at his eyebrow.

A good try, he thought.

“I’m sorry?” He replies. She couldn’t possibly know which bracelet he was trying to find.

“You were watching them earlier. From across the street,” she let out faint exhales as she let out a short laugh, “Maybe you should hide a little better next time.” 

She reached out and picked two bracelets out of the display grid. “I remember the sizes too,” she said, “The person you watched held onto them for so long, they seemed pretty attached to them. I kept track of which bracelets they were just in case.” The robed woman shot him a friendly wink.

“In case of what?” Mando questioned. He was still in shock that the woman noticed him staring at you from across the street. 

The woman glanced up at him like that was a dumb question, “In case you came back to get them, Mandalorian. This isn’t my first day on the job.”

It saved him the time and stress of trying to remember which one it was, so he shrugged and watched the woman’s jewelry dangle as she typed onto the register. 

Beep. Beep. Beep beep. Ching.

“Okay sir, twenty credits please!” The woman extended her hand out and waited for Mando to place credits into her palm. She was met with the tilting of the black T shape on Mando’s beskar helmet. 

“I thought the price was thirty,” he stated as he began to reach into his pockets to retrieve his credits.

The woman let out another small laugh, “Oh, I suppose I should have made the sign larger,” her decorated fingers pointed to a small sign above the one that displays the bracelet prices.

$10 OFF WHEN YOU BUY TWO OR MORE

Mando’s shoulders dip in realization that you could’ve bought the bracelets in the first place. A sigh escapes his modulator and he hands the credits over to the intricately robed vendor. The credits clink into her palm, and then into the register.

He waits silently for her to package them up in a small bag. 

“They like you, you know,” the woman mentions, “No one like them would be deciding on which bracelets to buy for that long if they didn’t.” She paused as she was about to place the larger of the two into the small bag, “And look at the size of this one! It’s definitely for you.” 

The Mandalorian nods, “I appreciate that,” he pauses before turning away, “let’s hope they do.”

–

Mando sets a faster pace back to the Crest than the one he took from the Crest to the market. He’s impatient, he can’t wait to walk up the ramp and see your body curled up, comfortable and safe, while you sleep soundly in your bed–if you can even call it that, he thought. You usually went to bed early when he went on hunts, otherwise you would be awake talking to him.

Slipping the bag from his shoulder, an ungloved hand rummaged through the contents searching for a small bag. His fingers found the familiar texture and he pulled it out from between the snacks and the takeout. 

Mando slung the bag back over his shoulder, pulled the larger of the two bracelets out of the small bag, and slipped his hand through the ring of brown, silver, and green. Grabbing one of the ends with his fingers and pinning it to his palm, the other hand tightened the bracelet to a comfortable size around his wrist.

Once the small bag was returned to its place inside of the larger one, Mando peered around him to get a good look of his surroundings. 

The sun was about to set, leaving only a sliver of light available to provide dim light to the landscape. Rocks littered the ground. Shadows from each one making them appear larger in the light of the impending dusk. He reached up and tapped a finger to the temple of his helmet. No living thing was around him.

He paused and set the bag on the ground. Doing one last scan of the area, one of his hands gripped the chin of his helmet and lifted the beskar from his head. The hand held the helmet at his side while he marveled at his wrist.

He caught a good patch of remaining light and watched as the green and silver threads gleamed against the thick brown ones. The bracelet was beautiful. Not only because of the design, but because you picked it out. And it was for him.

Becoming paranoid, the Mandalorian quickly slipped his helmet back onto his head. He waited for the seal of the helmet to engage before continuing back towards the Crest. This time, at an even faster pace.

–

You sat there until you heard heavy footsteps approaching from outside, the hydraulics of the ramp coming to life. Thinking fast, you stood up and made your way towards the fresher to start your nighttime routine.

“Why are you still awake?” Mando’s voice was confused. He stood in front at the top of the ramp with his helmet tilted, hands resting on his hips, but his shoulders were slumped, a bag slung around one. He looked…worried.

Mando was right. Usually when he went on hunts you went to bed early. Nowadays the only thing that kept you awake was him. Talking with him was how you spent most evenings on the Crest, your voices echoed and bounced back to each other in the hull.

He’s used to seeing you curled up on the sleeping pad covered in blankets. Soft breaths came from your body and radiated throughout the Crest. Just like a minute ago, his footsteps would come up the ramp with his bounty in tow. Soft grunts could be heard kitty-corner from your spot in the hull. A hiss of mechanisms as they froze the bounty in carbonite. Then a bit of silence. 

The absence of the carbonite freezing stood out in your mind. No bounty, even when he said he was going to go and find one. Your eyes teared up slightly again as the realization truly set in. Mando really did go to the brothel.

You just wanted this night to be like any other night he came back to the Crest with a bounty.

After the bounty was frozen, heavy footsteps made their way across the floor of the hull. But they always stopped a few paces away from your bed, halting for a moment. Mando would complete his nightly routine. Setting the Crest’s coordinates for the next planet and showering in the fresher if he needed to–he usually did.

No matter what the events of his nightly routine were, it always ended with him standing in the doorway of his bunk–the sound of his footsteps always stopped partially inside.

“Good night, cyar'ika.”

You didn’t know what the Mando’a meant, since Mando never used that word around you, but you knew that the, “good night,” was all you needed to finally fall asleep.

You always waited up for him, only until reasonable hours of the night, of course, but he didn’t know it.

The sound of his footsteps in the present snapped you out of your hazy state. Crying really does a number on your brain.

“Just…couldn’t fall asleep,” you offered him a small smile as you pulled some products out of the tiny fresher cabinet. You wet your face and applied a small amount onto your fingertips, tapping them together for both hands to have the product. As you lifted your face and your hands to the mirror to begin washing your face, you were met with swollen lips, puffy eyes, and slight tear trails dried onto your face, despite the water you just splashed onto it. You froze.

There goes any of your chances to get away with how you spent your night. Staying up late staring at the Crest’s ramp. Waiting for Mando to come home. At least what you thought was home.

“What’s wrong?” Mando’s voice got clearer as he approached the fresher door. His strides long, footsteps clunking, as he removed his leather gloves and tucked the pair into his utility belt.

You went to turn away from him but he got there faster than you could. His ungloved hand rested on your shoulder, grip slow yet firm as he turned you to face him. He rubbed tiny circles onto your skin with his thumb once his eyes beneath the helmet noticed yours.

Your reflection on the silver beskar of his helmet stared back at you. Could you even get away with a lie at this point? What else would have made you cry? It’s not exactly like you could have said the truth either.

Oh yeah, I was sitting here having a panic attack as you participated in a perfectly normal service that is offered on this planet. Then I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you, and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.

Mando’s hand waved in front of your face and it brought you back into the present moment. “Did someone come onto the ship while I was gone?” His voice gritted out from the helmet’s modulator. 

“Maker, no,” you huffed and tried to look less suspicious, hoping he’ll just drop the topic.

“Then what is it?” He murmured, his modulator barely picking up his syllables. His wide shoulders took up most of the fresher’s door frame. The grip on your shoulder tightened slightly.

“It’s…I don’t think you’ll want to hear it.” You shrugged and repressed the heat of anxiety creeping down the back of your head. Turning to wash and dry your hands, you let out a sigh and started to walk towards the main open space of the hull. Your shoulder gently bumped him as you slid past his large frame in the doorway. 

Suddenly your hips were being snapped backwards and dragged back towards the fresher. His damn finger was in your belt loop again. 

He pulled you close to him, feeling the heat from his knuckle dig into your hip and spread throughout the rest of your body. His helmet leaned down to look you in the eye and tilted once again.

“Try me,” he paused. He brought his hand up to grip onto the valley where your neck meets your shoulder, slowly enough so you could back away if you so desired. His large palm and thick fingers were calloused and warm. The grip he had on you was still gentle, slightly squeezing. “You know you can tell me, right?”

You let a deep inhale permeate through your lungs. The words flowed through your individual cells. Thoughts of lying escaped your body with each breath. The debate inside your head would end. Whether he had those feelings for you or not.

“I got upset because you went to the brothel.” You told him. Lips trembling and eyes squinted open in an attempt to meet his gaze.

“The brothel?” He held both of your shoulders and brought his visor closer to your face. Thumbs rubbed your shoulders yet again. He sighed as your name left his lips and traveled through his helmet, “I didn’t go to a brothel tonight.” A titled T-shaped gaze met yours. You knew he was looking you in the eyes, and yours into his.

Brows furrowed, you sniffled slightly, “I-, I saw that condoms were on the market receipts.” The thumbs on your shoulders stopped, his chest didn’t rise and fall. He froze. You made Mando freeze. 

“Look I know I’m just being dramatic and paying for that kind of thing is completely normal. I just,” you trailed off and thought of a quick replacement for your worry, “I was worried you would get hurt there.”

Mando’s shoulders fell and his helmet cocked to the side. “What?” He questioned. “How would I get hurt? None of the workers there had weapons.”

“How would you know that if you didn’t go?” You whispered to him. Your gaze left his and it dropped to the shape in the center of his chestplate. The crystal shape rose up and down slowly.

“I got information on a bounty there earlier,” he sounded like he was talking to a hurt animal. Gentle. Slow. Calm. “What's the actual reason you’re upset?” 

Kriff it.

“I had a panic attack because I thought you went to the brothel. Maybe you would like the worker there more than you like me, I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you,” your chest heaved and as you listed off your previous thoughts of worry. Your hands shook as they landed on top of Mando’s, and you took a deep breath, eyes meeting his gaze like before, “and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.”

Mando is quick. He flipped his hands to grab one of yours and tugged you into the hull. Kneeling, he opened a cloth bag, one from the market, and dug into it to search for something. 

He actually went to the night market. You thought, now you look so clingy. So needy. He was just going to show you what he got to prove he went.

He turned and held his hand out. Sitting on top of the golden skin on his palm was a bracelet.

The bracelet from the market.

“I saw you looking at these, you looked for a long time and then put them down,” He stood up and set his gait to slow steps as he made his way over to you.

You laughed nervously, accompanied by a small sniffle, “Sorry yeah, I know I just should have been getting the stuff we needed. You didn’t have to go back and get it for-.” Mando raised a finger to halt your speech and continued what he was saying previously, “you put them down. You had two bracelets.”

“They had lots of them that I liked…I had two that were a tie and I just decided to get neither-.” Mando cut you off again.

“You were holding one bracelet consistently and then picked another in a bigger size,” you froze at his words. Dank farrik. Now he was going to think you’re super clingy. 

“I wasn't completely sure who you wanted to wear the bracelet, but I took a guess.” He pulled his long sleeve past his elbow and revealed his bare forearm. Strong. Capable. Solid. And a matching bracelet was donned on his wrist.

Your cheeks radiated with heat as he took your wrist and put your bracelet on you. His warm fingertips brushed the soft skin of your wrist, sending chills throughout your body at the meticulous skin-on-skin contact. 

Once the bracelet was secure around your wrist, Mando dipped his head and looked down at the floor. One of his hands gripped the underside of his helmet, and the other held onto your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat at the gesture. He quickly lifted his helmet to release his mouth, and he pressed three kisses on your wrist where the bracelet was. Mando’s lips were soft and timid, his hand caressing the skin on yours. Silver from his beskar helmet blocked your view, but Mando sealed his helmet and brought his eyes underneath the visor to look into yours.

“This means everything to me.”

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

[doodle-pops]

Modern AU: Sugar Daddy | My Sugar Daddy Loves Me

Headcanon: Maglor, Finrod, Ecthelion, Thingol, Elrond

Request: Hi Mina I hope you doing well could you please write a part 2 of your sugar daddy au? With Ecthelion, Maglor, Finrod, Elrond and Maeglin - Anon

A/N: Not gonna lie, I had a hard time envisioning Finrod as a sugar daddy since I link those who are Daddy/DILF material as a sugar daddy. He seemed so aloof as a sugar daddy and more like Friends with Benefits lol.

Warnings: a female-focused reader, smut, breeding/creampies

➽ Part 1 | Part 2

➽ Modern AU Series

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Maglor

➽ He’s a world-renowned pop star who is beloved by everyone, and you are his lovely darling he met during a backstage meet and greet when he slipped his number into your back pocket and whispered, ‘Call me.’

➽ Of course you called him because that’s how you receive gifts on your doorstep after every performance he has, world tours, or when his albums go platinum. You are the mysterious lover that his fans talk about because of paparazzi.

➽ For the most of your dynamic shared with him, you are kept a secret because, to him, it makes everything more thrilling. All those posts of him on vacation or tours with snips of your hands, legs or back, or the albums being written about you, make everything invigorating.

➽ On the days when he does return from touring, you are showered in affection abundantly. Necklaces and anklets with your name or his name, dozens of roses, lingerie, the latest fashion wear, a lump sum of money floating into your account and some days between the sheets.

➽ Plus, that pretty black credit card in your back pocket feels incredibly heavy with all the financial opportunities it’s allowing you to make. It doesn’t bother him with you swipe his card to make your purchases because he has lots of trust in you (please don’t rob him).

➽ The dynamic between you both differs from the others who would reward you for excelling at your job or studies. With Maglor, he’ll reward you for being silent as he takes you in the recording booth during breaks, support him during his concerts, and when he wins awards.

➽ Apart from dropping all the materialistic gifts on you, Maglor takes him time to worship you from head to toe. You are, after all, the inspiration behind his best-selling albums, and he has inserted your moans as background vocals on some of his songs.

➽ A passion lover you got as a sugar daddy with an oral fixation (best his mouth). He has to show you how talented those lips are; singing isn’t all that he can do with his tongue. Plus, he’s also a guitarist, so let the realisation sink in with those fingers.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Finrod

➽ Right off the bat, his type of sugar daddy isn’t for pleasure purposes and it’s the last reason why he was willing to care for you. He just wants someone to spoil and spend lots of time with because he’s rich and lonely in his mansion.

➽ Being spoilt is something you never have to question because he’s eager to be your sugar daddy even though he doesn’t consider himself as one. He’ll just tell you that he’s a good friend helping another friend out while handing you his unlimited credit card and a bunch of gifts.

➽ The adventurous type to call you up in the middle of the night and TELL you that he already booked you all a flight a trip to a tropical island for two weeks filled with various fun activities. The idea that you have classes or work tomorrow doesn’t sink in until you’re reminding him.

➽ It’s a frequent occurrence with him visiting/calling at early hours to check out new places in the city or for you to come over because his giant house is lonely. At some point, you are living in with him and all the maids have become familiar with you.

➽ If you’re a college student, you are funded, and yes, he does have an interest in your academics. However, he’s a lot more understanding if you fail a course because he’s the reason (making you miss classes with those trips); he might suggest dropping out and letting him permanently care for you because he can also get you a decent job without a degree.

➽ As I mentioned, pleasure isn’t something Finrod is interested in during the agreement. That’s something you would have to initiate one night as you’re relaxing in bed or returning from dinner. Take the lead and make him rethink his agreement to incorporate it often and scrap the ‘friends’ talk.

➽ He isn’t someone who becomes stressed, so if anything, you’re the one who’s getting the rough sex when you’re stressed. He is happy to help because if you’re keeping him company, he has to return the favour with an open mind. And trust me when I say, he’s good at what he does but acts casual as if he didn’t strip away your ability to walk.

➽ At least your time being his sugar baby will be fun and filled with excitement, something that outshines the finances and pleasure he blesses you with. His desire for companionship helps to make the dynamic between you two worthwhile.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Ecthelion

➽ Responsible for marketing some of the most valuable gemstones around the world; mostly invested in the diamond stock market. The first time you met him and stepped into his house, you noticed how much he was obsessed with the gemstone. You don’t complain because it’s what he gifts you whenever you perform well for him.

➽ He covers all your tuition expenses and living commodities and gives you one of his unlimited credit cards to shop for your heart's desires. In return, you must bring home good grades (he’ll tell you what’s good) and keep up your good reputation. He doesn’t want you to ever tarnish your reputation.

➽ Ecthelion is wealthy and educated, so he doesn’t mind getting involved and invested in your field of work or degree program. Depending on what it is, he’ll extend his knowledge, but if he doesn’t know, he’ll make attempts to get you good connections to boost your career.

➽ So long as you maintain your good grades and reputation, you’re in it for life. He’s taking you vacations to tropical islands, opera shows, shopping sprees, buying you the most expensive jewellery sets and clothes. You will be rocking the best designer clothes, Ecthelion isn’t standing for you wearing simple clothes.

➽ Of course, when you perform excellently for him, he will return the favour with more than just trips and money. He established in the beginning that he was seeking companionship during your deal, and as much as he wanted to keep things professional, something about the red lipstick you adore wearing sucked him in.

➽ Perhaps allowing you to give him a blowjob under the table in his office during a quick visit and leaving lipstick smeared all over his cock made him change his mind about keeping things professional. He was pleased when you agreed to make the relationship more intimate than hugs and kisses.

➽ He wastes no time whenever he’s stressed to relieve himself through you (with your consent). You’re his little stress reliever, and in return, Ecthelion doesn’t mind letting you use him to beat your stress. Sex is rough and steamy between you both. You are getting bent over countertops, work desk, pressed against the wall, he’s hungry beneath his professional demeanour.

➽ While he is a formal and sophisticated gentleman, and he would not touch you inappropriately in public, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t purchase you vibrator panties and plugs. You’re sitting beside him during a conference meeting and he’s causally playing with the speed on his phone, making you cum.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Thingol

➽ This sugar daddy is drifting over to the DILF side of things and do not be fooled by his silver hair, he isn’t old, he’s simply trendy and into the latest fashion styles. Giovani, Armani, Dior, Marco Polo, Ralph Lauren and the list goes on. Thingol is an old-money type of sugar daddy, and he adores showing off his wealth to you.

➽ To be honest, Thingol really want to be your sugar daddy because he saw you and liked you. At the time, you were a broke college student or young worker struggling in the business world who used the opportunity he was providing to build your career and status.

➽ Thingol doesn’t care about all that (at first), but he does ensure all your needs and desires are met. Tuitions paid, loans cleared, no negative credit score or empty bank account. You’re the rich student on campus or your job that everyone is jealous of because he makes sure the world knows you’re spoilt by rolling up in some custom Rolls Royce or Bently.

➽ Your unlimited credit cards weigh a ton in your pocket, but who cares because you’re rich and being pampered as you deserve? Of course, nothing in life comes for free and without payment. Thingol might carry some age because he has a fully grown child, but he isn’t old.

➽ He makes it clear that he would enjoy being intimate and seeking companionship in return for the wealth spent on you. Do you decline, of course not (you can’t, or you’ll end up poor again).

➽ Thingol is the definition of old is the new young. This man has the stamina to last for a lifetime and makes sure you’re always satisfied. He can be stingy and demand that you give him more attention (he’s a receiver more than a giver). You’ll have to catch him in the right mood for him to be on the giving end.

➽ But still, you can’t complain because you’re getting good dic—. Anyway speaking of spoiling you, he adores whenever you’re completely decked out in lingerie for him, i.e. just all the jewellery he bought for you and nothing else.

➽ He does have a slight breeding kink, but it isn’t intending to want children, so you have nothing to worry about. Thingol just enjoys the sight of prettying his sugar baby.

➽ Know that he’ll gift you some necklace or ring that informs everyone that you’re his and no one else’s. If you ask him if it means he’s proposing, he’ll reply with something along the lines of, “You’re already mine princess, wedding ring or not.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Elrond

➽ DILF number three and it makes perfect sense since he’s a descendant of many DILFs (Fingolfin, Turgon, Thingol). But Elrond doesn’t mind being someone’s sugar daddy, though his intentions are more for genuine purposes. If you want more, you’re gonna have to do all the work to show him that it’s more than paying your tuition and giving you money.

➽ Nevertheless, he covers all your expenses and demands that you perform excellently in your field of study or job. Elrond would even go out of his way to personally teach you (and no, I don’t mean bending you over the desk type of teaching) to ensure success is at your fingertips.

➽ This man is the most passionate and dedicated sugar daddy who cares about your well-being to a great extent. He’s well-rounded, so he’s fulfilling all your needs and wants, health, education, finances, basic commodities and living expenses. Please don’t disappoint him by failing your classes, he’s pulling all his money into the best tutors.

➽ In return for your devotion and passion for excellence, you are getting spoiled but not like the others. Elrond doesn’t mind giving you money or taking you on shopping sprees or trips around the world, he simply doesn’t want you dependent dependent on him to always provide since he’s building you up to become your own boss and financially secure.

➽ He’ll spoil, but not to that extent. Such a philosophical man, teaching all about life and how to be independent and headstrong.

➽ Now, as I’ve previously mentioned, if you want him to take you to bed, impressions are everything. Elrond’s the type to get impressed by your sense of elegance, sophistication and linguistics. Show him how skilled your tongue is, and he’ll be wanting more. No doubt he’s rewriting the contract in his mind.

➽ He has kids and knows how to ramp in between the sheets. In his state, he probably isn’t interested in more given his desire for companionship, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be giving out creampies. The sight of it is his catalyst for wanting to give you more and keep you up all night.

➽ He’s a gentleman in the streets and will incapacitate you in the sheets. Tricks up his sleeves despite having an old fashion appeal about him. Give him a dance dressed in some pretty lingerie—nothing overly fancy, he likes elegance and simplicity—while he sips on whisky or brandy in a button-down shirt and his tie lazily discarded around his neck.

➽ Treat him well because running multiple companies is tiring, so relieve his stress while he relieves yours and you’ll be the happiest sugar baby ever.

Masterlist

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[emberfrostlovesloki]

Baby Fever [Emily x Reader]

Photo Credits Left and Right (@meditando-en-paris) Center (@emily12o1970)

Prompt: The reader asks Emily if she wants to have a baby together. While this is a surprise, Emily has a little question of her own for the reader.

Pairing: [established relationship] Emily x Non-BAU!reader. The Reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: fluff/comfort

Word Count: 6.8K

Content Warnings: Slight angst, talk of getting pregnant, food and alcohol are mentioned, implied intimacy, discussion of politics. If I missed any, please let me know.  

A/N: Hi all! I’m so sorry it’s been a while since I’ve posted any fics in a while. The end of the semester has been wildly busy. However, I return with an Emily fic for @imagining-in-the-margins March and April writing challenge. I made my own prompt that is, a member of the couple isn’t sure they’ll make a good parent; they are reassured by a friend that they will be perfect. This is a continuation of my Moschino and Muddy Water series. You can find parts one, two, three, and four here (linked) You can read this as a stand-alone as well, you just need to know the reader works for a senator. This story kind of humbled me and challenged me as it took a long time to write and I needed to do lots of edits on it. But that is a good reminder for me. Writing can be hard, but it is worth the result to see you can come what you can come up with. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/s/t = your skin tone 

_y/f/s_ = your favorite scent

Emily walked into the living room of her apartment. y/n and she had recently repainted it a neutral beige that Derek had described as “sad sand” at brunch with Penelope, Spencer, JJ, and Will last month. y/n had nearly choked on her drink as he made the remark. It had been y/n’s idea to repaint their space to a more relaxing color. When y/n had suggested it, Emily had said, “Oh, what brought this on lover? Wasn’t it you last week who mentioned the security deposit on this place?” Em liked teasing y/n about these things because y/n was always a little more impulsive about things. Their dynamic remained light despite the hectic nature of their jobs. The ability to relax and joke in their off time kept both y/n and Prentiss sane. However, they were good at reading each other, most of the time. When things felt heavy or the job was pushing them to the edge of a breakdown, the jokes and teasing went out the window. 

Only once had y/n made a joke in poor taste about a case that Emily had not yet fully described, and the tall brunette had snapped. y/n had looked at her girlfriend with shock. Prentiss never spoke to her in this tone nor with the angry expression she had on her face. The silence in the room after Emily's outburst was deafening. Emily instantly felt guilty for how she had reacted. Prentiss cleared her throat and tried to apologize, but y/n said, “Save it. I need a minute.” y/n had moved back to their room and closed the door, and burst into tears. ‘A minute’ turned out to be a long sleepless night for the couple. y/n tossed and turned and wondered if she was overreacting and what she had missed about Emily when she came in with her go-bag. She had seemed fine to y/n as she came in with a smile and normal attitude. Meanwhile on the couch, Emily wondered why she had reacted with such venom. y/n was only trying to lighten the mood, and she hadn’t said how horrible she felt. If she had, Emily knew y/n would hug her and kiss her and make her feel better inside of cracking a joke. Prentiss sat up and looked out the open window onto to the street as a few cars drove by. Emily wondered what brought those driving out so late. Who were they and where they were going? She wondered if they were happy. She slumped back into the couch cushions and missed the warmth of y/n’s snuggled up in front of her and the cool feel of their sheets over them. 

In the morning, both Em and y/n had gotten up at the same time. Prentiss moved into their room which she found unlocked. y/n looked up at her. Em could see that she had been crying and the lack of sleep on y/n’s face. Before Prentiss could say anything, y/n stated, “I’m sorry, Emily. I’m sorry for how I acted. Immature and like a child. You didn’t deserve that.” Emily dropped her head and replied, “I’m sorry too. It was wrong of me to shout at you like that. You were just trying to make me happy.” y/n swallowed and said, “I was, but I must have been missing something. Would you tell me about the case, or what caused you to act like that?” 

Prentiss nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed taking y/n’s hand in hers. “Yes. Let me explain. Thank you for giving me the time and care to listen.” After a long conversation, the pair set up some boundaries about not keeping things inside after cases for Emily and taking time to check in after she got home for y/n. y/n knew Emily had been acting okay, but in reality, she wasn't. y/n noted that if she was in Emily’s shoes, she might want to laugh after work and a case and y/n thought Emily might feel the same way. So after they had talked and kissed and made up, they both felt a bit crusty and decided to take a shower together. 

It felt wonderful as Emily’s strong hands moved down her y/s/t’ed shoulders and back. The soap suds moved down y/n’s back and Prentiss rubbed them over her lush behind and thighs. y/n sighed into the touch. When Emily had finished rinsing y/n off, y/n turned and had Em face the water. y/n placed a dollop of her shampoo that smelled of rose and juniper berry in her palm. Prentiss smiled as y/n’s fingers brushed through her silky dark strands of hair massaging her scalp and then making sure that all of her locks were coated in shampoo before turning Em to rinse off her shoulder-length hair. After a few more minutes the water started running tepid, and y/n and Emily got out and dried off. They spent the rest of the Saturday morning lounging around and getting coffee from the fancy place two blocks over. It felt lovely to be back and not have an argument hanging over them. As y/n opened the door for Prentiss, she thought about how they worked together. They had their moments and arguments like any couple, but all in all, they were steady. It seemed that steady was something new to both of them, and it made them happy and secure in one another. It had made y/n so happy and secure that it had got her thinking about roots, about the future. 

A few weeks later, y/n woke up early and realized that Emily was up. She snapped her laptop shut. The sound had Em turn around and look at y/n with just a hint of concern in her dark eyes. y/n smiled and got out of her seat saying, “Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?” Emily’s face broke into a soft smile and she replied, “I slept well. I love it when you’re the big spoon. It makes me sleep like a baby.” y/n got up and wrapped Em in a hug and whispered in her ear, “Well, I’ll have to do that more often then.” y/n inhaled her smell and tried to hide the blush on her face before pulling back and saying, “Do you want some breakfast and coffee? Or maybe a mimosa. I feel like cooking something if you want.” Prentiss nodded and said, “I think I could go for some blueberry or chocolate chip waffles if you’re down to make them.” y/n nodded and replied, “Of course. What are we feeling for drinks?” Em let out a small laugh and said, “Well, how about I make us lattes and you pop open some prosecco? We’ve still got juice in the fridge too. I’ll get the glasses.” y/n nodded knowing that Emily didn’t like popping corks --  a quirk that y/n thought was so cute. Em turned away to get the fluted glasses for the mimosas and while her back was turned she considered how y/n had been acting the last few days. It was like she was holding some secret. When y/n’s computer was in front of her, y/n always seemed to close it quickly or move it so she couldn’t see the screen. It wasn’t only that. Sometimes she was on the phone and talking quietly to someone she didn’t know. The pit in Emily’s stomach grew. And yet when she looked back at y/n who was humming her new favorite song while pulling eggs out from the middle row of the fridge. 

This was so unlike y/n to hide things from her. When it had first happened, Emily thought that maybe y/n was cheating but that wasn’t something that y/n would do unless she had really misread her girlfriend and their relationship wasn’t going anywhere. This bothered Prentiss because she was planning on asking y/n to marry her in a month on their second anniversary. Even if things weren’t good with them, which y/n’s behavior indicated otherwise, Prentiss was uncomfortable with y/n hiding things from her. Em had a good way of feeling out people, and y/n had seemed more excited to be with her recently, so all of the messages both verbal and nonverbal were throwing her for a loop. Prentiss was going to talk to JJ and Penelope about it on Monday to see if they had any insight into what was going on. At this point, y/n and the rest of the girls on the BAU were thick as blood. Em took a breath and decided to not let her self-doubt ruin their relationship. She had let that happen before, and even though it had turned out to be a good thing, Emily didn’t want to do that here. She loved y/n, and she knew y/n loved her. If y/n needed to tell her something, Emily knew she would, even if it was something difficult to hear. Prentiss fixed her face and took a breath before setting the glasses on the counter for y/n who leaned in and gave her a kiss before she moved to the coffee maker. 

y/n started mixing up the waffle batter. y/n didn’t like keeping things from Emily, but this was such a big subject to even bring up, and she wanted to have all of the facts beforehand. Not so that she could try and argue her point with Emily, but so she was sure it was what she wanted. But the more y/n looked at their options of getting pregnant, the firmer y/n was about her desire to start a family with Em. It was a conversation they had had before. A shared desire to have kids and raise them in a house full of love and tenderness that neither y/n nor Emily had had as children growing up on opposite sides of the globe. So the topic of wanting kids wouldn’t be a shock, just how quickly y/n was bringing it up. And if Emily said she needed more time, y/n would wait, but she couldn’t deny that her baby fever was growing thanks to JJ’s pregnancy and some recent laws passing. The whole idea made y/n’s stomach flutter in both delight and worry. Thankfully y/n was almost ready to tell Em, and again there would be no secrets to hold, just a future to plan, whatever that looked like for them. 

         The following Monday at work, Emily found Penelope in her office with its room full of screens and trinkets. Prentiss smiled at how Garcia’s personality shone through wherever she was. Em found the tech whizz inspirational in that way and many others. Garcia was busy typing something on her laptop and Emily had called her name twice already. Without any other options apart from pulling the plug on one of Penelope's babies, Emily tapped her on the shoulder instead. The genius shot out of her seat and Prentiss was eternally grateful that Gacria wasn’t holding one of her large cups of soda. “My God Emily, are you trying to get me out of my skin?” Penelope retorted when she had caught her breath. Em smiled and said, “It was that, or pull the plug on your computer. I thought you’d appreciate the latter. I did call your name twice.” Garcia let out a shaky laugh and said, “Okay, well lord, I have to stop listening to music so loud when I’m at work. Hotch got mad at me for it once already and somehow he’s always right because I don’t want to be scared like that again. So what brings you to my cave today dear? Need me to cast a love spell on you?” Prentiss laughed and replied, “Well I’m okay on that front. A clarification spell might be more in order. Are you back on the RPG game again?” Garcia blushed and said, “Maybe, maybe not. Anyhow, does the team need my presence?” Em nodded her head no, sat down on the ledge of Penelope's table, and said, “Not right now. I was just wondering if y/n had talked to you recently. She’s been acting kind of strange in the last three weeks and I just wanted to know if she has something planned?” 

Penelope was buzzing in her seat because she had an answer but had promised y/n that she wouldn’t say anything to Emily about it. y/n had discreetly asked around the office if anyone knew someone who had IVF treatments before and would be willing to talk candidly about the process, how much it cost, and the pros and cons of the procedure. The only other person who did know someone who had gone through In Vitro Fertilization was Rossi, but Dave didn’t think that person would want to discuss such an intimate part of their lives with a stranger, even if it was a friend of his. However, Penelope had a good friend named Shayla back from her college days who was now a happy single mom and had moved to the Virginia area last year for a new job with her little boy. y/n had met Shayla once before, and when Garcia brought her up as a possibility, y/n almost begged her to ask Shayla if she was comfortable talking about the long process. When Pen brought it up in their next catch-up call, Shayla happily agreed to share her knowledge. She had done plenty of research before deciding to move forward with having a child on her own, understood the great sacrifice and fears that could come with it, and was happy to give any helpful information she had. Of course, this conversation had prompted Penelope to ask y/n why she was asking and y/n had revealed that she was thinking of asking Emily to have a baby with her. Garcia had freaked out, jumping up and down in excitement. y/n had to stop her from running out of the room and shouting at anyone that her friend was getting pregnant. Once the blonde analyst had settled down, y/n took a breath and said, “Now Penelope. I know you’re excited but I’m just in the research stage which sounds calculated when I put it like that, I haven’t told Emily about this yet and I need to be sure I feel confident before I spring this on her. Could you please please, please not tell her?” Garcia nodded seriously and said, “My lips are sealed. I pinky promise.” y/n let out a sigh of relief. 

But as Garcia was faced with Emily now, it wasn’t as easy as telling y/n her secret was safe. It was threatening to burst out of her seams and she needed to come up with an excuse fast or risk losing a dear friend in y/n. Penelope cleared her throat and said, “Hey, Em. I kinda stayed up all night playing that game and well as you can see I’m running numbers for Stan’s team….” She gave her best pleading eyes that seemed to work on everyone. Prentiss let out a soft laugh and replied, “Alright, What flavor do you want grape, Cola, or orange?” Pen smiled brightly and said, “Orange, please. You are a lifesaver!” Emily patted her on the top of her blond head and said, “Well just hope Hotch or JJ doesn’t call a new case while I’m gone. You should get someone to install controls or something on your system at home to stop you from staying up twenty-four-seven.” Garica scoffed, looked at Emily’s retreating form, and said, “Baby, if anyone could crack into my harddrive, I’d let them.” As Emily moved out of the office and toward the 7-11 to get Penelope’s soda, she felt relieved. Not that she fully believed nothing was happening with y/n, but if the team hadn’t noticed anything, then, it made her feel better. Once Emily was out of sight, Penelope whipped out her phone and texted y/n: “Emily is asking questions, baby girl. I’d start thinking about asking her soon or she might find out what you’re doing.” 

The week moved by quickly with lots of paperwork for Emily and the start of a new campaign cycle for y/n who moaned about it as much as possible without being annoying to Em. It didn’t help that the senator y/n worked with had gotten themselves into another scandal that was rocking their office and party. When y/n was going on a rant about corruption on Friday night Emily hugged her from behind, kissed her temple, and said, “I’m sorry sweetheart. I know it’s annoying, but you're good at your job even if it’s a bad system. But that doesn’t make you bad.” y/n relaxed into Prentiss’s embrace. y/n let out a sigh and said, “I’m sorry for going off. I know it’s annoying.” Emily nuzzled her face into y/n’s neck to relax her further as she whispered, “Don’t apologize y/n. Work can be agonizing sometimes, I know that as much as anyone. If it bothers me I'll tell you. Now, how about we do something fun tomorrow? We could get brunch at that place we like in midtown. You know the place where you asked me out officially?” y/n’s face broke out into a smile and she said, “I’d love that Em. Sorry if I’ve been a little distant right now. I’ve been thinking about some things and I want to share them with you in the morning. It’s nothing bad or anything, but something I just want to discuss with you. You’re everything to me love, and I’m so happy we’re together.” Prentiss’s heart fluttered knowing that y/n was finally going to tell her what was going on. Her words were reassuring, that it ‘wasn't’ bad’ or ‘anything bad about her,’ but even so, her nerves sang inside as they both headed to bed. 

In the morning, y/n woke up slightly early for a Saturday and got into a hot shower. She washed her body in _y/f/s_ed body wash. She then moved to her hair and shampooed and conditioned it. Lastly y/n shaved so her legs were smooth. When she stepped out of the shower, Emily was up. y/n walked into their room in a towel, and Em looked up from the bed, Her brown eyes got wider and she said, “Well, good morning, love?” y/n smiled and said, “Morning sweetheart.” y/n dropped her towel, and lazily crawled on the bed. Emily followed her with her eyes and her tongue slipped out of her mouth and wetted her lower lip subconsciously. y/n grinned and moved over Emily’s body and kissed her gently at first and then with more passion. Em snaked her hands around y/n’s hips. Once y/n’s tongue was slipped into Emily’s mouth, her fingers moved to y/n’s hair and tugged it gently at the root. After y/n and Prentiss were desperate for air, y/n pulled away and moved onto her knees before saying, “Maybe we should get dressed or we’ll miss brunch sweetheart.” Emily whined and said, “Do we have to?” y/n laughed and replied, “I think so. I’m in need of a good mimosa and waffle. Plus, we can get right back to this when we get back if we want.” Emily sat up and brushed her thumb over y/n’s jaw before saying, “Alright love. Give me a few minutes to get ready and we can go. It’s good if we go sooner though because you know how crazy that place gets after 11:00.” y/n nodded in agreement as she moved to the closet to pick out a spring dress and some matching jewelry while Emily used the bathroom and vanity to get ready. Emily chose a pink jumpsuit that fit her curves perfectly and was strapless showing off her lovely shoulders and neck. 

y/n and Emily got to the restaurant before the big rush and were seated outside at a quiet corner table surrounded by a fence and hedge that gave the space a cool and calm feeling away from the bustle inside and the rush of cars outside. A waiter came and got their drink orders and while he was there, Emily and y/n also ordered pain au chocolat. Emily got a glass of white wine and y/n got a pomegranate mimosa, and they both got coffee. The lean man noted what they wanted and moved away. The wait time at this spot was longer giving people time to relax and talk. y/n looked at Emily wondering if she should start the conversation. Emily returned y/n’s smile, her face looking radiant in the glow of the midmorning sun. Prentiss shifted in her seat and said, “You’ve been looking so happy the last few days. Whatever it is you have to tell me I just want to say I’m so happy to see you like this. I wish every day could be like this. That there wasn’t the stress or worry of our jobs looming over us. But you make me feel safe and seen every day, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Once Emily said the words aloud, the idea in her head sprang so full and bright that she felt like she might be bowled over by a small breeze. The idea had been there for a few months but she hadn’t planned it. Certainly hadn’t even dreamed of it being like this, but it felt so right. When she looked over at y/n who was clearly saying something, Emily thought for a brief moment that she might be looking at the sun, blinding it it’s light and radiance. Prentiss cleared her throat and mind and finally heard y/n repeat, “Are you alright darling? You were in your own world there for a second.” Emily nodded now knowing what she was going to do and said, “Yeah I’m good. I just had an idea. So I suppose I have something to tell you too. But you go first. What was it you were wanting to tell me today that you’ve been so secretive about?” y/n blushed and felt better now that they both were going to say something, though she had no idea what Emily had up her sleeve. y/n replied, “Well why don’t you go first.” Prentiss shot back teasingly, “No you first.” They repeated this one more time before they both blurted out at the same time: 

“I want to have a baby with you.” 

“I want to marry you.” 

When Emily and y/n both registered what the other had said they were stunned into silence. y/n felt her chest tighten with emotions that threatened to bubble over. She composed herself first and asked in awe, “Emily Prentiss, are you proposing to me right now?” Emily took a shallow breath in at what y/n had said about wanting a baby and y/n’s question and, she said, “I am, sweetheart. It just felt right right now. I don’t want to spend another day without you being mine in the most real way possible. Time just goes by so fast and as soon as we know it we’ll both be grey and have bad knees. We’re both gone so often from each other so I’d like you to be mine if you’re willing to be. y/n, will you marry me?” Emily got out of her chair and onto one knee. Again she was glad they were in a quieter part of the restaurant. y/n nodded her head yes and fell to her knees next to Em embracing her in a hug and saying, “Yes, Oh of course I will. I love you so much, I want my whole life with you.” They both stayed there for a moment on the brick floor before Emily raised her head from y/n’s shoulder wiping her own eyes of the salty liquid at her corneas before pulling back and helping y/n to her feet. They hugged properly with a tight embrace that said they would never be apart for longer than they had to be, and even when they were apart, they would still be together. Em pulled back and said, “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring for you, but it just felt right to ask you now. I promise I’ll get you one that’s just perfect.” y/n smiled and said, “I know whatever you pick out will be perfect love.” She leaned in and planted her mouth on Emily’s and they both let go of each other with a feeling of lightness and ecstasy that neither had expected this morning in bed. Just as they both sat down, the waiter returned with their pastries and drinks on a tray. He set all the plates and glasses down and said he’d be back in a bit to see if they needed anything else. 

Once he had gone, y/n and Emily raised their glasses to their engagement and y/n said, “To the best fiance I could ever ask for!” As they clinked glasses Em added, “And to my favorite person in the whole world.” They both took sips of their drinks and what y/n had said resurfaced to the front of Prentiss’s mind after the euphoria of y/n saying yes to her proposal dimmed slightly. Em leaned forward and asked, “y/n you want to have a baby?” y/n flushed and nodded sheepishly. Suddenly talking to Emily about this made her feel nervous. With a steadying breath y/n replied, “Not just a baby Em. I want to have your baby. I’ve been researching reciprocal IVF. Looking up what the procedure is like for both parties, how expensive it is, and where there are clinics nearby that we could visit and consult with. I even went as far as talking to some people who’ve done it before to see how their experience was for them. That’s what I’ve been researching for the last few weeks. And I know this sounds so fast. Like I’m rushing. I don’t mean to pressure you into making a choice now or next week or month or even year. I just want you to know that I’d love to build a life with you. A life that might include children in the future if that’s something you're interested in. I just wanted to have all the facts I could about what that would possibly be like before springing something this big on you” Emily absorbed the information and took a sip of her drink. She said with a smile, “Look at you doing your research. Not that you don’t research, but I think we’re rubbing off on each other. You’re making me more comfortable in making big moves like proposing while I’m making you research a topic as much as possible.” y/n laughed and said, “Well, I guess that makes us pretty compatible, huh.” Emily chuckled and continued to think about what y/n had just said. 

It wasn’t something they had talked about recently, but children was a topic of discussion they had had and it made Emily relieved to know that y/n left that secure in their relationship that it was something she was seriously thinking about. Now that they were engaged, it only made more sense, even though y/n couldn’t have known that coming into today. For a moment Emily pictured y/n cradling their baby, and then a toddler running around their apartment, and the child grown up and going off to school. Prentiss pulled herself from the film playing in her head. As lovely an image as it was, it was a lot to think about. She lifted her eyes up to y/n’s nervous gaze. Prentiss moved her right hand to y/n’s and held it across the table saying, “I think that’s a beautiful idea y/n. It is a lot to think about. I do appreciate that you’re comfortable enough to tell me something that’s really important to you. Would you mind if I give it some time to think through?” y/n squeezed Emily’s palm and replied, “Take all the time you need love. There’s no rush.” Prentiss felt a surge of warmth move through her not associated with the fact that she was sitting in the sun. Having someone as passionate and who understood her so well was the best thing that could have happened to her. Emily did wonder if something had prompted y/n into her desire for children. She’d never been one to have baby fever before now and the shift was interesting to her. 

Emily watched y/n sip her drink and relax in her chair a bit. Prentiss asked, “Sweetheart, what sparked your desire for kids if anything? Or did it just sort of happen?” y/n sighed and said, “It’s been coming for a while I think, but things have made it speed up for me I suppose.” Emily nodded her head as if to say, “Keep going, love.” y/n placed her palms flat on the table and continued, “I guess that so much crazy stuff has been happening in the country recently. I know you know that. We both do as we work in the government, but the upturning of Roe V. Wade and all the crazy abortion bans popping up all over the place. I suppose I just don’t want to be too late. Like one day we both decided it was time and by then we didn’t even have that option. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or to push you in any way, we have time, it’s just made me prioritize some things in my life that I hadn’t given too much thought to before now. I mean if Alabama can almost stop IVF then I’m afraid of what might come after that. I suppose having a child became more important to me the more things like that happen here.” 

Emily gave a soft smile, she could more fully see where y/n was coming from and it made sense with her personality. Em moved her hand across the table and stroked her cheek gently before saying, “That makes sense darling. I’m going to have to think about it for a while before we do anything, but maybe when we get home, you can tell me a bit more about the process, and the cost. If we commit to something like this we’re going to need to be saving for some time.” y/n chuckled and said, “Take all the time you need darling. We can save money for that and a wedding too.” Emily paused and said, “Do you mind if I don’t tell the team right away about the engagement? I just want to get a ring and have it be a bit more put together because once I tell them, we’re going to be swamped with questions from JJ, Garcia, and Rossi.” y/n snorted and covered her mouth at how accurate Emily was. She could picture that conversation happening and how Garica would pounce on Em and then how she’d get ten calls for Penelope and then some texts and another call from Dave congratulating her. Since y/n had gotten to know the team more, Rossi had become a father figure which made her heart warm. y/n replied, “Yes, of course sweetheart. That will be a day to remember. Almost as exciting as getting to say yes to you Mrs. Prentiss.” 

Shortly after this their waiter came back and got them a second round of drinks and they ordered some plates to share. The weekend flew by as always, and Emily showed up at Quantico with an excited air about her. The team slowly rolled into the bullpen on work days like they normally did. Em and JJ passed through security at the same time, and JJ who was now very pregnant asked Prentiss, “You seem preoccupied today. Is something up?” Emily tried to stay cool and said, “Nope, well apart from the fact that y/n and I had a late night last night.” Em gave JJ a wink and JJ shot her a sly smile replying, “Well that would make you pretty tired I suppose.” Emily laughed and the two women moved up to their floor. Prentiss hadn’t been lying about y/n and her last night. They’d spent a few pleasurable hours both in the shower and the bed solidifying their bond. Telling one truth and omitting two others felt better than a flat-out lie. Emily was a mix of emotions today and it did make her feel and perhaps look different which she was trying to hide. She was incredibly happy about the unofficial engagement but nervous about y/n’s question. It was more than a question, it was a whole new part of their life if they pursued it. Emily spent a good deal of the morning telling Spencer and Penelope that nothing was wrong and that she was fine but tired. Even Aaron gave her a look saying that he knew something was up. But Hotch didn’t always have the time for gossip and he trusted and knew Em enough that if she was having a serious problem, she could come to him anytime night or day. By lunch time, Prentiss felt a little bit more emotionally drained than she had coming into work. She hardly noticed Derek sneak in behind her to use the microwave when her leftover pasta was finished reheating. 

Morgan said over the hum of the microwave, “So you told Spence and Garcia everything is fine and you gave Hotch that look that it’s all cool and they left you alone, but you're one of the most put-together people on the team and something is off. Keeping secrets is a burden and I’d think you’d like at least one person to know what’s playing in your mind on repeat. Listen if we go on a case or something then it might make you slower. Would you please tell me what’s going on? I won’t tell anyone else. You know I’m also good at keeping a secret.” Derek’s appearance startled Emily, and she jumped at his first few words but calmed quickly as she listened more intently to what he was saying. She bit the inside of her lip. The problem was she knew Derek was right and somehow that bothered her. However, Morgan would be as good a person to tell as any. Their bond was strong, but not as interwoven as the rest of the team. And he was good at keeping quiet. Prentiss deflated slightly and decided to be honest with Derek saying, “Okay but this stays between us, please?” Morgan nodded his consent and indicated for Em to continue. Emily thought of the proposal but knew the issue that was bugging her was what she should say. Finally, she stated, with a slow caution, “y/n wants to have a baby with me.” 

That response was far from what Derek had been expecting, and he blinked a few times just to ensure he’d heard correctly. Slowly a smile crept to his face replying, “That’s amazing, Em!” Emily nodded lightly and Derek was confused as to why she wasn’t showing the same joy he was. He cleared his throat lightly and asked, “Do you not want that Emily?” Prentiss let out a long sigh and said what she’d been thinking about since last night: “I do think I want kids in time. And y/n and I have talked about that before now. We talked about it before we became serious.” Derek was confused by her hesitation and asked, “Is y/n like, rushing you into this?” Emily nodded no and replied, “No not at all. She knows me too well for that. She did a bunch of research beforehand and told me there wasn’t any rush. And also that if kids wasn’t something I was interested in she and I could talk about it.” This reply left Derek even more confused and he scratched the back of his head. Finally, Morgan asked, “So, why are you upset exactly?” Em came out with it and said, “What if I’m a bad mom? I can see y/n being the most loving and caring parent in the world, but my track history with my mother just doesn’t indicate that I’m going to be that competent a parent.” 

When Emily got to the point of contention, Derek couldn’t help but chuckle, and Prentiss lightly slapped his board arm and said, “Don’t laugh at me, Morgan.” Derek managed to stop his chuckling and say, “I’m mainly laughing at your wording, Em. I don’t think any parent would say they are ‘competent.’ And if you’re going to question me on that, ask Hotch if he thinks he’s a competent parent with Jack or JJ with her baby. I swear no one has it all figured out.” Emily was still hesitant and Derek continued, “Emily no matter what you decide it’s going to be the right thing. I know you and y/n won’t jump into anything, but if you ask me, I think you’ll make a fantastic parent.” Emily could tell that Morgan was no longer joking and she asked, “Why do you say that?” She was genuinely curious to hear how he would answer. Morgan leaned against the wall and replied, “Well you could just call it intuition, but the other sign to me is how in tune with yourself and y/n you are. You notice things about everyone, especially y/n. If you decide to have a kid together that will be the most loved child ever. You may not have it all figured out, but with how much you care about each other, I know you and y/n will figure out the rest. You’ll be a great Mom Em.” Emily felt her heart warm slightly and the original image of a child running around her and y/n’s apartment, or the park, or a variety of other idyllic scenes came back in a rush. She knew this wasn’t always going to be the reality, but she felt encouraged and replied to Morgan, “Thanks, Derek. I appreciate that. And thanks for letting me ramble.” Derek smiled again and was happy to see Emily happy. He said, “You got it Em. And my lips are sealed.” Emily felt much better the rest of the day having one person know what she was thinking about. It helped so much that after she had talked about it, she found it much easier to work. 

It was a few weeks later as Prentiss had found the right ring for y/n, and she and y/n had talked about breaking that set of news to the team that Emily came up behind y/n who was standing at the kitchen counter. Prentiss hugged y/n gently from behind and said softly in her ear, “y/n, I want to try. I want to try for a baby with you.” y/n froze and then turned around slowly in Emily’s arms and said, “Really?” Emily nodded and replied, “Really baby. I want some time before we go for it, but I want to be with you.” y/n felt her eyes well with tears of happiness. Her life had felt so empty and barren before she met Emily. Now life felt so full. She was getting married to the best woman ever, and they were planning a family. A lot was yet to come in their journey, but for now, everything was perfect. As the tears started rolling, y/n mouthed, “I love you so, so much Emily,” as she leaned in with her tear-stained face and kissed Em with all the love she could give. Emily wrapped her arms around y/n and kissed her back. Yes, time went quickly, but together they would make the most of every minute there was between them and the family they were planning.

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[naughty-shiro]

Blue Lock NSFW Audios p2

✩⸝⸝{🍙} Bllk x Reader/Listener Part 2! ♡﹗🗞

⌕/ ( All charracters aged up 18+ ) . (Credits listed) ⟡ ‹𝟹

𖤐 (Kunigami Rensuke) - (Meguru Bachira) !! ✩

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𖥻 ✿ - Kunigami Rensuke ⇢˚⋆

1. he was jealous during a date with at the club, you were all over other guys. He thought to teach you a little lesson. [Mdom] [Fsub] [Jealous sex] [Oral M!receive] [Slut calling] [wall sex] [Daddy] by: twoface

2. you want a nice cuddle with your dom and he has a drink you want to try. but it escalates to something more. [Fingering] [Nipple play] [Sit on my lap] [Gentle MDom] [Consent Checks] [Aftercare] by: TigerNextDoor

𖥻 ✿ - Bachira Meguru ⇢˚⋆

1. While being stuck in a storm the power is out, and your best friend is staying with you because he has no heat in his apartment. He confesses he might have thought about you while he jerked off, this leads to something more... [Soft MDom] [Switchy] [Friends to Lovers] [Mutual Masturbation] [Exhibitionism] [Degradation] [Praise] [Cum Eating] [Snowed In] [Sleepover] by: alot-of-Axolotl

2. You invited your ex to your wedding however he has other plans... [Gentle Mdom] [Cheating] [Bittersweet] [Emotional] [Jealousy] [Praises] [Hand job] [PIV] [Breeding] [Creampie]. by: yoursweetfantasy 

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[wintaerbaer]

things we don’t say: part 5 (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut

word count: 12.1k

chapter warnings: jeon jungkook, seventeen is here because i needed fill-ins (also they’re not singers but their music still canonically exists in-universe so good luck figuring that one out), a wedding!, tae is WHIPPED, the infamous butt debate, jealousy (plural), jimin has terrible timing, alcohol consumption ft. a drinking game, a mega cliffhanger i’m so sorry

a/n: while not required, i highly recommend reading the prequel drabble if you haven’t yet as it has some heavy relevance to this part and the next! special thanks to @btsborahaee and @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this chapter and letting me gush and brainstorm in their inboxes on the regular <3 also, shout outs to @animeniacss and @taegularities for sprinting with me all the time (and a forehead kiss to rid for coming up with the idea for the bathroom scene, mwah)!

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Read on ao3

"After today, I never want to see a ribbon ever again."

Jimin fumbles his fingers over the thin string, throwing his hands up in a huff when the slippery material resists his efforts to tie it. With Hoseok and Sunny's wedding only two weeks away, you'd offered to help out with some of the prep work, and Taehyung suggested hosting a mini prep party at your apartment as part of his efforts to make new memories since you'd moved back. True to his word, he’s been at your place nearly every day the past few weeks, cooking dinner with you and rewatching your favorite shows from high school.

You have to admit it’s been pleasantly domestic.

"It's not that bad," you say, finishing off your own ribbon around one of the tiny boxes of chocolate which will be distributed to each of the two-hundred-plus guests as a wedding favor.

"No, I'm serious. I don't even want to tie my shoes anymore. I'm a Crocs guy now."

"I've heard girls love sport mode," Taehyung quietly teases. "Is that right, Y/N?"

The flirtatiousness of his tone startles you, and your eyes snap up to meet his where he sits across from you at the dining room table. He's smiling one of those mischievous grins that makes your stomach churn, belly lurching when he stuns you with a wink before turning back to his own tiny box.

What the fu—

"If any of you show up to my wedding in Crocs, I'm kicking you out," Sunny grumbles.

Hoseok smacks his lips as he ties off a ribbon. "Does that also go for—"

"You as well, yes."

Your group settles into a momentary silence at her declaration—not a sound besides the ripple of ribbon and paper. At least until—

“I got laid wearing Crocs once.”

The entire table groans in unison, and you toss a bit of balled up wrapping paper at Jungkook's chest that bounces pathetically to the floor as Jimin boos. “No one cares about your sexcapades, Kook.”

“What, it was impressive!” he argues. “Just be thankful I'm not bringing any of them to the wedding.”

“I almost wish you were,” Hoseok grumbles. “You'd better not be picking up anyone inappropriate that night. Sisters, cousins, aunts—”

“That was one time!”

“—and anyone else even remotely close to family are off limits.”

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, pouting to himself, before he says, “Moms?”

The table boos again, more bits of wrapping paper flying his way.

“I'm kidding! Kidding!”

“Actually, Y/N,” Sunny murmurs, leaning towards you. “I hate to bring it up, but are you planning on bringing anyone else in Jace’s place?” Her expression is one of compassionate regret, with pursed lips and a furrowed brow, but the question still hits you low in your chest, knocking the wind out of you.

“I feel terrible asking,” she continues, “but one of my friends from high school originally declined a plus-one, and now she’s asking if there’s any way we can squeeze in this guy she met two weeks ago, and normally I’d tell her no, there’s no way I can change the head count two weeks out and who is this guy anyway, but then I figured that we do technically have an extra spot so we could fit him in, but I’d definitely give you the option to bring someone else first if you wa—“

“It’s fine,” you say, trying to ignore the way everyone else around the table is now looking on in sympathy. “I have no one else to bring. Let her guy come.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” It feels like you’re dying inside, but you try to look unbothered, especially since you can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Sunny quietly agrees, just as Hoseok suddenly jumps in at her side.

“You know, Tae isn’t bringing anyone to the wedding either,” he says, looking between the two of you. “Why don’t you just go together?”

“I’m also going alo—“ There’s a thump under the table and Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth.

You glance at Taehyung, who’s looking back at you with a dip in his eyebrows and parted lips. It was probably a given that you would spend time at the wedding hanging out already, but wouldn’t going together mean something else entirely? A promise of dancing and proximity and a label the two of you have never shared?

Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s staring at you with a touch of discomfort. Your own skin prickles at the thought, and so you scratch away the itch at your chin and deflect.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” Then you stand from the table sharply, hitting your limits with this conversation. “I’ll be right back.”

You head for the bathroom, not even needing to do anything in there, but sure that you can busy yourself for a few minutes to get your emotions under control away from your friends. But as you’re about to swing the door shut behind you, a large hand reaches out to stop it with a thud, and Taehyung quickly slips in before closing the door himself.

“Tae, what are you—“

“Come with me.”

You’re practically chest-to-chest, and if not for the fact that you’ve stopped breathing with his question, you’d probably be pressed up against him in the tight space.

“What?”

He licks his lips, pulls in air through his nose like he’s bracing himself.

“Come to the wedding with me.”

The room is heavy with silence as his request fully sinks in, the air between you thick and hot as you try to get some of it into your lungs. It’s hard, though, to develop a coherent thought with him standing so close—his scent engulfing you and dark, searching eyes fixated on your expression.

“I don’t kno—“ you begin, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“Why not? Like Hobi said, neither of us is bringing anyone already.” His fingers brush yours—an apology for mentioning it again. “So why not go together and…not be as alone.”

You shift on your feet. “But you do know that you don’t have to do this. I’m fine without a plus one. There’s no shame in it for me.”

“Y/N,” he huffs. “You know that I like being around you, right?” He nudges gently against the underside of your chin, making you look at him directly. “I wouldn’t have stuck around this long if I didn’t.”

You’re still skeptical—nervous about the implications of what this would look like, especially when you just got out of a relationship. To you, it feels very much like teasing a boundary. But Taehyung is all nerves in front of you, gaze darting up-and-down your face and a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth telling you that he’s chewing on his lip.

And of course, because it’s him, you cave.

“Okay.”

He beams and, not for the first time, you feel your chest lighten at the sight of his boxy smile. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, smiling back.

“Okay.” Almost impossibly, his grin gets even wider, and you can see the wheels begin to turn in his head. “Do you have a dress picked out yet? What color is it? I can match you.”

It takes you aback. You wouldn’t have even thought about that. “Emerald green.”

“Emerald green,” he repeats, something registering behind his eyes, and he licks his lips again. “Okay. Great.”

He shifts like he's getting ready to leave, but you catch his fingers to reel him back. And you hate to put it out there, hate to even bring it up, but after everything you’ve been through, you need the clarity.

“And Tae,” you say, “this isn’t a date, right?”

He gives a slow blink, a wave of unknown emotion rippling from forehead to chin before he smiles gently at you, eyes softening at the corners. “Of course not.”

You nod. “Okay.” And a small part of you feels…disappointed?

But there's no time to dwell on it as he exits the bathroom, and you follow him out in spite of doing exactly zero bathroom things. You return to the dining room together, your friends clearly trying to look nonchalant as they diligently work on their party favors but being way too quiet to not have been trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Sunny,” Taehyung says as you take your seats, looking positively brighter. “Just make sure we're sitting next to each other, yeah?”

She snorts. “As if you were anywhere else to begin with.”

Blue skies stretch endlessly in front of you, wind running through your hair and sunlight filtering in through the sunroof as you and Taehyung make the trip to the lakeside resort where Hoseok and Sunny are to be married. He's the absolute picture of relaxation in the driver's seat, wearing sunglasses and a mindless smile with his fingers wrapped delicately around the steering wheel like vines.

He'd opened the door for you when he picked you up, a seemingly spontaneous gesture that had left you both shy and blushing. But if the afternoon started with a touch of unusual awkwardness between you, the prospect of your “not a date” wedding date making itself known, it has since evaporated in the hot summer air. At this point, you’ve spent the past hour chatting, playing road trip games (Taehyung somehow destroying you in the alphabet game in spite of having to focus on driving), and burning through three boxes of Pepero.

“These are an addiction, I swear,” you say, crunching down on a chocolate-filled stick and clapping your hands in delight. Taehyung’s eyes leave the road for a second as he takes you in and grins.

“Was that the last of it?”

“Oh.” You peer into the box. Empty. “Yeah. Sorry. Did you want it?”

“No, it’s fine. You can have it.”

“I sure hope so since I already swallowed it.”

He laughs, whole face lighting up with it, and you feel something turn over behind your ribcage as if someone’s flipped your heart like a pancake. It makes you think that even though you were supposed to be making this trip with a different person, you’re glad it’s him instead.

My love only amounts to this.

The lyrics ring out through the car, and Taehyung leans forward suddenly, turning up the volume on the stereo.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite song!” he joyfully says. “I know you like to sing along.”

You stare at him blankly, taken aback because you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this to him. When did he notice…?

“C’mon, sing with me. Play a song I know and one step. Hold my hands and put my feet in, two steps.”

His sweet baritone sounds out beside you, and you feel a grin break out across your face. You always forget what a joy it is to hear Taehyung sing.

“The person to know all my secrets is you,” you sing, joining along. “So I’m even more thankful.”

“Sometimes when you get tired, and I see you crying with your head down, I don't know what to do. What can I do?”

You’re both belting it out at the top of your lungs by the time it gets to the chorus, and you think the sun has somehow moved inside the car with how bright and warm you feel.

My love only amounts to this. But thank you for staying by my side, my baby.

Your car charges down the road, trailing laughter and joy in its wake, and your chest feels light for the first time in weeks.

Even if my love only amounts to this. I'll be your umbrella in the rain. I'll protect you on all your days.

Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook meet you in the hotel lobby—a marble behemoth with wrought iron staircases and sofas that definitely cost more than your rent—and you all line up to check in, gawking at the elaborate chandelier that hangs above your heads.

“How did they even afford this place?” Jimin wonders.

Maya sucks her teeth. “At this rate? I think they might have mob ties.”

“Feet pics,” Jungkook says simply.

Once everyone has obtained their key cards, you set off to find your rooms. You’re all on the same floor since a certain section was booked specifically for the wedding, but with you having a room with only a single queen-sized bed, you’re down the hall and away from the others who booked doubles.

While Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook break off to get acclimated in their own respective rooms, Taehyung follows you into yours with a touch of melancholy, your luggage slung over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re fine here alone?” he asks, setting your bag on the ground. “I can room with you if you’d like. I’m sure Kook wouldn’t mind.”

“There’s only one bed,” you point out, blushing.

Taehyung also goes slightly pink. “Well yeah, but the other week we just…or I can take the couch. Or we can ask Kook to swap rooms?”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I’m alone at the apartment all the time anyway.”

He nods, looking oddly shot down. “Alright. But if you change your mind, just ask.”

“Unlikely,” you tease with a wrinkle of your nose. “You snore.”

He gasps, feigning hurt. “I do not.”

He doesn’t. But you still tilt your head solemnly, pressing your lips together as if preparing to deliver bad news. “You do.”

“Shit,” he sighs before the two of you break down in giggles.

A few hours later, the five of you wind up at the resort’s restaurant for dinner, lamenting the exorbitant prices but enjoying an incredible meal. The night dwindles down as you settle in at the bar, figuring you can have a couple drinks before resting up for tomorrow’s big day. With a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a perfect view of the lake outside and the glow of the sunset spreading out above the trees. It tints the room orange, seeping onto every surface, including Taehyung’s forearms resting atop the bar.

You trace his veins with your eyes, study the way they trail to his hands curled lightly around his low ball glass. Your friends are talking about plans for tomorrow, but you’re not paying much attention; you’re far more interested in trying to figure out when your best friend’s arms started looking like that.

“And don’t worry, Chim. If I have the chance to get lucky, I’ll make sure not to use our room,” Maya says, placing a hand over her heart in pledge. “No locking you out because I’m a good friend.”

But Jungkook has tensed up next to you, and in spite of the cute pout of his lips, the creasing of his forehead suggests that he’s genuinely upset. “Hook-up? You’re going to find a hook-up?”

Maya looks at him incredulously, drink paused halfway to her lips. “Possibly. Aren’t you?”

“I…” His teeth bite into his lip. “It’s a wedding.”

She barks out a devilish laugh. “So? When has that ever stopped you?” A spiteful glare is sent his way that even has you shrinking behind him in secondhand shame. “Since when do you have morals?”

Taehyung’s knee squeezes against yours under the bar—a warning, probably, but your brain momentarily becomes fixated on the weight of it, on how nice it feels to have his warmth pressed against you. It’s not until he taps a finger against your thigh, signaling with his eyes at the sullen man behind you, that you pass on the touch, giving Jungkook’s elbow a gentle nudge in support and encouragement. He takes a quick look at you with sad, vulnerable eyes, and you’re reminded of how flustered he’d been during your conversation a few weeks ago.

“I was actually thinking,” he begins, more serious than you’ve ever seen him, “that maybe we could go together since neither of us have dates.”

Maya snorts, setting her drink down firmly on the countertop. “Why, so you can ditch me halfway through for the first woman that flutters her eyelashes at you? No thanks.”

Jungkook physically recoils like he’s been slapped, the force sending him back so far that he practically winds up in your lap. “You really think I would do that?”

His voice is tiny, hurt dripping from every syllable, and it makes Maya finally look up, face dropping as she seems to realize the wounds she’s inflicted upon him.

Her brows draw together, and she opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by the bartender popping up to ask if anyone needs a refill. By the time he leaves, the moment’s passed, and Jungkook briskly stands up, throwing some money down on the bar.

“I’m done. See you guys tomorrow.” And he strides out towards the hotel lobby.

You hop to your feet, shaking your head at Maya. “That was uncalled for.”

She looks guilty but says nothing, rubbing a finger along the rim of her glass, and you follow Jungkook out, calling his name as he approaches the elevators.

“Jungkook!”

He spins to face you with a frown, thumbs hooked in his pants pockets like he’s trying to look casual, but his eyes betray his discomfort. “What?”

“She didn’t mean that,” you say, slightly breathless from your jog across the lobby. “I know she didn’t.”

“Sure she did. That’s who she is. Always speaks her mind.” He shrugs, shirt rippling over his shoulders. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”

“Don’t you though?” you ask. “You’re not a bad guy, Kook. You deserve simple respect at least.”

“Maybe I don’t.” The elevator dings, and he steps inside, turning back to you with a final sad smile. “Night, Y/N.”

A sense of dread taps into the back of your skull, fear that your original inkling on this relationship was perhaps correct. Though you’ve since warmed up to the idea of Maya and Jungkook as a potential couple, it was this exact tension that you were worried about—their fire and gasoline dynamic harboring implications that could blow up your entire friend group.

Taehyung strolls up next to you as the doors roll shut, sighing as he comes to a stop. “He okay?”

“No, but don’t try telling him that.”

He purses his lips. “I had a quick talk with Maya. Reminded her that just because she’s had bad experiences with guys in the past doesn’t give her the right to take it out on him.”

“Good,” you say. “She probably needed to hear it.”

A nod as he assesses your figure and asks, “Are you coming back to the bar? I already covered your tab.”

“Oh, I’ll pay you back—“

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “You can make it up to me a different time.”

You smirk at him, stepping closer. “How about I roll it into your Christmas present?”

“Deal.”

You let out a soft laugh, and he offers to walk you up, pressing the button to call the elevator back. The two of you chat about nothing in particular as you make your way to the third floor, commenting on the ridiculously patterned carpet in the halls and laughing about the strangely risqué photos that you noticed hanging in the rooms.

When you arrive at your door, you swipe your key card over the sensor, turning the light from red to green and wishing Taehyung goodnight, but he loops his fingers around your wrist to lightly tug you back.

“Y/N.” He curls his bottom lip over his teeth, head dipping towards the ground in a shy smile as he searches for his words. “I’m…really looking forward to tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.”

He’s adorable; he truly is. Seventeen years of affection, and he still finds ways to endear you to him even more, bits of gold from the lamps catching on the browns of his eyes as he stands before you.

“It is,” you say, tongue tied around your own apprehension. He hums and looks like he wants to say more—tangles his fingers in front of him and chews on his lip as he fidgets. But after a moment passes—you still stuck on his eyes—he jerks his chin down in a nod, says goodnight, and leaves you standing at your door in confusion, taking one look back as he swipes his own key card down the hall and disappears into his room.

You enter your own space with your mind whirling, not sure what the hell just happened but also sure that you’re not upset about it. And once you’ve gone through your bedtime routine and settled in for the night, you fall asleep thinking about brown eyes and shy smiles, welcoming the most restful sleep you’ve had in weeks.

You awake to the sound of Maya knocking on your door promptly at 9am with her suitcase in hand, casually making her way to your bed when you let her in and picking up the hotel menu from the side table while you stare at her. "What are you doing?" "We are going to order room service and watch some shitty TV, and then I am going to help you get you ready for your date." "It's not a date," you say on impulse, though you're internally tamping down the involuntary flutter that's tickling your stomach. "If it's anything, it's a guy taking pity on his unexpectedly-single friend." "Pity date then." She says it with a nonchalant wave of her hand and doesn't give you the chance to speak when you open your mouth to protest. "Y/N, please, just give me the chance to make his jaw drop. If there really is nothing there like you say there is, then what's the harm?" The harm, you think to yourself, is the tingling feeling that's been increasing in intensity when you've been around Taehyung recently, warmth flooding your body at just the thought of him. Your brain has been desperately explaining it away, chalking it up to years of familiarity and comfort being stoked by the emotional trauma which (you're quick to remind yourself) you're still working through. No, Y/N, I don’t have feelings for you. It's these thoughts that, in the end, have you acquiescing as Maya lets out a joyful squeal. At the very least, you make your friend happy and get some well-deserved girl bonding time. Really, what's the harm?

The idea has barely finished running through your mind when you’re already beginning to regret it and wondering what the hell you just got yourself into. Maya wheels her entire suitcase to the foot of your bed and pulls out no less than seven bags of make-up, a curling iron, hairspray, four different brushes, and a straightener.

“Are you doing the entire wedding party after this?” you ask incredulously. “Why did you bring so much?”

“Needed to be ready for anything,” she says, organizing her tools into neat rows. “When I’m done with you, every straight man and half the women will be falling at your feet.”

Your face heats, and you subconsciously rub at your arm. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Okay, then just one man.” She raises her arms, fingers arranged into a square through which she peers at you like she’s sizing you up for a photograph. “Hmm, where should we start?”

You and Maya make your way to the resort's event hall a little while before the ceremony is scheduled to begin. Seating doesn't seem to have opened yet as guests mill about the entryway, the buzz of conversation filling the space above your heads, and the two of you pause at the top of the stairs to see if you can spot your friends. "I think Kook's got a purple tie," she says, peering around. "And you know what he's wearing why?" you ask, but she ignores you. "Oh, look, there they are." Maya's goal may have been to get Taehyung's jaw to drop, but you're left stunned when you look over to where he's standing with Jimin and Jungkook, the now-familiar tingle rippling through your veins once again. His black suit is perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, emerald green tie wrapped around his neck to match the color of your dress as promised. He's slicked his hair back and away from his eyes so you're able to see how they nervously dart between Jimin and Jungkook, clearly not listening to whatever it is they're enthusiastically saying. Actually, once you look more closely, everything about his body language screams nerves for some reason, his hands moving back and forth to play with the hems of his jacket before smoothing the lapels over and over again. Maya waves, grabbing Jimin's attention, and you watch as he grins at the two of you before leaning in to say something to Taehyung, pointing at where you're standing. Maybe, you think, just maybe you appreciate Maya's plan from this morning after Taehyung glances up at you. His incessantly-moving fingers finally still—halfway through re-adjusting his tie—and his perfect Cupid's-bow-lips pop open, eyes wide as he soaks you in in your floor-length gown. Maya’s worked your hair into loose curls cascading over your shoulders and bare back, and while you convinced her to not go wild with the make-up, she strong-armed you into agreeing to a deep red lipstick that’s only accentuated by the green of your dress. A smug cough comes from your right (clearly Maya's pleased with her work) as you descend the stairs and approach the trio of men. Jimin and Jungkook greet you brightly while Taehyung still looks mildly concussed, continuing to stare at you with his mouth half-open. "Alright there, Tae?" you ask, reaching up to adjust and smooth out his tie, messy from where his hands had frozen on it.

The pads of your fingers are hot where they brush against the hard muscle of his chest, and you try not to read too deeply into the pounding of his heart. Taehyung makes a weird noise akin to what you'd imagine a drowning fish would sound like, and Jungkook gives him a sharp slap on the back, which seems to knock him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. "Incredible!" he blurts, and you almost want to laugh at the reset-button-like effect Jungkook's smack seems to have on him. He clears his throat, composing himself further. "I, um—you, I mean. You look incredible." You thank him, ignoring the second wave of smugness that comes from Maya's direction, just as the event staff open the doors and begin ushering guests into the hall. Taehyung offers you his arm, and you gladly take it as he guides you to sit alongside your friends.

The wedding hall is as grandiose as the rest of the hotel, with columns ornamenting the sides of the room and a massive flower arch constituting the altar. You all talk as you wait for the ceremony to begin, admiring the decor (the bright bouquets of red, purple, and blue flowers pop against the stark white of the venue) and trying to see if you recognize any of the guests.

“Oh, there’s Sunny’s cousin Chan,” Maya says, peering out over the room. “Remember we met him at that party one time?”

“Didn’t the two of you drunkenly make-out?” you ask.

Jimin frowns. “I thought they hooked up.”

“No, Y/N is right.” She fixes her hair, oblivious to the way Jungkook is now staring at the man in question, hackles raised. “Wouldn’t say no to that happening again; he was good with his hands. Tae, are you alright? You’re looking at Y/N like she’s sprouted four more arms.”

You swivel your head around to see Taehyung next to you, entirely flushed red above the shoulders. He licks his lips as he meets your eyes, blinking furiously like he’s trying to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Maya waves a dismissive hand, shuffling her attention to Jimin to ask if he knows about the music choices for the ceremony.

A throat clears on your right. “You do look nice. Really.” Taehyung looks utterly sheepish, his head tilted low as he softly pays you the compliment, and it reminds you of how shy he was last night as well. A butterfly takes flight in your chest, and now you’re the one blushing.

“Thank you. You cleaned up nicely, too,” you reply, and he blinks at you in a way that has you second guessing your words. “Not that you don’t always clean up nicely. And not that you don’t normally look very handsome. Because you do. Look very handsome, I mean. All the time.”

His bashfulness morphs into amusement, lips quirking up in an affectionate smile. “Oh, really?”

Your face heats up even more, mouth opening to respond with you don’t even know what, and you’re grateful when a hush falls over the room, the beginning notes of a wedding march signaling the ceremony’s start.

Hoseok appears first, looking dapper in a full tuxedo and grinning ear-to-ear. He walks down the aisle with long strides like he can’t possibly get to the end fast enough, bouncing on his toes as he settles into his spot.

The officiant is next, followed by Iseul and Seokmin, one of Hoseok’s childhood friends. Hana and Namjoon stroll in arm-in-arm after that, then Yumi and Jiho, and finally, everyone rises to their feet as Sunny appears at the entrance and begins her walk in, gaze finding only her groom.

Just as Sunny reaches the head of the aisle, a teary-eyed Hoseok taking her hands in his, another image, one which had once occupied your mind almost constantly but hadn't plagued you in weeks, takes hold: you and Jace in a similar setting, pledging forever to each other in front of your friends and family.

Maybe you had gotten ahead of yourself—the discovery of the ring box in his desk along with the natural longevity of your relationship sparking your imagination—but in the weeks leading up to your heartbreak, you had allowed your mind to plan—what kind of dress you'd wear, the colors you'd pick out, what you might say in your vows. It seems stupid now, dwelling on a future that's already evaporated into nothingness, but seeing the echoes of your dreams being played out in front of you, it’s like you can feel the sand physically slipping through your fingers.

Right as it starts to become too much, as you feel your chest tighten and heart ache, there's a brush of skin against the side of your hand, and glancing down, you see that Taehyung's reached over to quietly hook his pinky with yours. You turn to face him, but he keeps his eyes directed on the bride and groom, face neutral and unreadable, and you know he's giving you the chance to pull away, no questions asked.

But the gesture has warmth flooding through you, thawing the ice of your previous thoughts, and so you move to slip your hand under his, lacing your fingers and pressing your palms together tightly.

Taehyung looks at you then, a shy smile crinkling his eyes and twisting up the corners of his mouth, and you grin back, the previous ache in your chest replaced with a steady flutter as he begins to skim his thumb back and forth in a gentle caress.

You stay that way for the rest of the ceremony—watching your friends vow eternity to each other, Taehyung's hand tethered with yours.

Classical music drifts from the speakers at the back of the room as you find your seats for the reception. The ballroom is tremendous, with tall, arched ceilings, a gorgeous chandelier, and a wide dance floor that you’re sure will see a ton of action later. With the tables seating eight, you see that you’ve been placed in a grouping of you, Taehyung, Maya, Jimin, Jungkook, and three of Hoseok’s medical school friends, who introduce themselves as Wonwoo, Joshua, and Mingyu.

Thankfully, your group hits it off immediately. Wonwoo is rather reserved, more an observer of those around him than anything, but Taehyung and Jimin quickly strike up a conversation with Joshua about college after the latter mentions having gone to the same school as you, albeit never crossing paths. Maya and Mingyu, meanwhile, immediately fall into their own introductions, talking about how they know Hoseok and Mingyu’s studies to become a doctor.

“If you ever need a headshot or something, let me know,” Maya says, laying a hand on his arm. Across the table, Jungkook's head shoots up. “I do work as a photographer and would be happy to help.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu makes no move to remove her hand; if anything, he shifts even closer. “What are your rates?”

“For you? Free of charge. Any friend of Hoseok is a friend of mine.” They're in their own little bubble now, Jungkook watching wide-eyed. “Besides, you'd be doing me a favor. With a face like that, you're a photographer's dream. Perfect model.”

Mingyu smirks. “A face like what?”

“Dangerously handsome.”

“HEY, WHAT DO YOU GUYS WANT TO SPECIALIZE IN?”

Jungkook practically screams it, and not only do Maya and Mingyu turn to look at him in bewilderment, but so does the rest of the table and a few guests in the neighboring seats.

Joshua clears his throat awkwardly, eying Jungkook like he might be rabid. “I’m trying for pediatrics.”

“Surgery,” Wonwoo says.

Maya turns towards her new companion. “What about you, Mingyu?”

He leans back in his chair. Gives a light tug on his tie. “I have a residency lined up in obstetrics and gynecology.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me—”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, cutting him off as he slides his chair back from the table. “Why don’t you help me get a round of drinks?”

“But—“

“C’mon.” He says it gently, like he’s trying to coax a toddler, and rises to his feet, giving you a gentle tap on the shoulder as he goes. “Cosmo?”

“Yes, please,” you say, and he nods, dropping a quick wink your way as Jungkook joins him, grumbling under his breath.

Joshua watches them walk away in the direction of the bar. “Is he always this…”

“Annoying?” Maya scoffs.

“Transparent.” Wonwoo quietly smirks.

A gentle laugh sounds on your left as Jimin hears. “I don’t know that anyone has ever described Jungkook as subtle in his life.”

Maya frowns, Mingyu looking downright perplexed at her side. “I don’t think I quite understand what’s going on,” he begins, but Maya soothes him with another press of her hand to his arm.

“Don’t worry about him. It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Tell me more about your residency.”

The reception passes in a swirl of music and drinks and food—and oh goodness, the food. Plates heaped with calamari, crab legs, and tiny filets wrapped in bacon are placed at the table by wait staff as your group digs in. Even Jungkook is placated, no longer scowling at Maya and Mingyu.

"Ughhh, I am never eating this well again," Jimin groans, stretching back in his chair and giving an exaggerated rub to his belly.

"You'd best get ready to," Taehyung says from your other side. "This isn't even dinner."

"This isn't even dinner?!"

Dinner turns out to be just as delicious and lavish as the appetizers, and it's no surprise that once dancing starts, your friends opt to stay seated for a while longer talking and digesting. As the party climbs to a full swing, Mingyu asks Maya to dance, Jimin and Jungkook start a debate on whether the butt is one body part or two, and Taehyung excuses himself to the restroom.

“It’s one part that’s split!” Jimin loudly exclaims. “The top is connected!”

“Jimin, go home, stand in front of the mirror, and pull your right ass cheek up. See if your left cheek comes up with it, and then get back to me, you absolute clown.”

“Do they do this a lot?” Joshua asks, the two idiots arguing between you.

“At least once a month.” You take a sip of your drink as you look on, bored. “I’m pretty sure this one is a rerun from last Halloween.”

“It’s one,” Wonwoo says, amused.

A flash of green catches your eye, and you look up to see Taehyung standing by the side of the bar, speaking with a woman. She's about your age, you think, and pretty, wearing a low-cut dress that certainly accentuates her chest.

She and Taehyung are talking excitedly, and you can tell he's putting the charm on—eyes bright, signature boxy smile lighting up his face. Nausea simmers in the pit of your stomach, and you force your attention back towards Jimin and Jungkook, trying to focus on whatever nonsense they're debating now.

This isn't a “date-date,” you remind yourself. And Taehyung hasn't had a relationship in a year—not since he was so torn up after Luna. He deserves to meet someone.

You’re spaced out next to your friends, still only halfway listening to them jabber on about butt cheeks, when a slow song starts up over the speakers and, within seconds, a hand is being extended over your shoulder.

You look up to find Taehyung's eyes gazing steadily down at you, a small but confident smile playing on his lips.

"Dance with me?"

And in spite of the unease that had plagued you only moments ago, you don't hesitate to let him wrap up your small hand in his large one and lead you to the dance floor. His palm settles on your lower back to pull you in close, and maybe it’s the proximity or the intoxicating smell of his cologne that weakens your resolve, but you find the words spilling out.

"Did you get her number?"

Taehyung looks at you quizzically, brow furrowing in confusion. "Whose?"

"The woman at the bar."

His face relaxes as he realizes. "Oh, yeah. I did."

"Good." You manage a smile. Why does it feel so hard? "It really is…good you're getting back out there. Are you going to ask her on a date?"

He laughs, mischief in his eyes. "I don't think her fiancé would like that." And now it's your turn to look confused.

"Her fiancé?"

"I met the two of them through Hoseok a couple times so we've chatted. Nice people." He nods his head, and you look over to see the woman now dancing with a man not too far from you. "They just got engaged, and she knows I'm a photographer so she asked if I'd be interested in doing the wedding. I said I'd call her this week to talk about it."

"Oh." You can feel your face flush, but there's no doubting the relief that floods through you. And Taehyung surely notices, grinning down at you in amusement.

"Were you jealous?"

"No!" you say, but perhaps a little too quickly because Taehyung laughs, his fingers applying a gentle pressure to your back to pull you closer.

"I'm here with you," he murmurs matter-of-factly.

You shake your head at him. "It's fine, Tae. If someone catches your eye…like I said, it could be good—"

"I'm here with you," he repeats, more firmly this time. He releases your hand for a moment to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and you have to look away. You spot Hoseok and Sunny swaying together in the middle of the dance floor, pressed closely together and smiling at each other like they're the only two people in the world. What it must be like to have someone look at you like that, you think, to hold you like you're something precious to be cherished. You had thought Jace made you feel that way, but now, watching your friends gaze at each other so delicately, so in love, you're no longer sure he even came close.

"What are you looking at?" Taehyung's voice rouses you out of your thoughts, and you suddenly notice his hand has drifted a little higher to where the back of your dress dips down low, exposing your bare skin.

Trying to pass off the shiver that involuntarily runs through you as a nod, you gesture at the newly married couple. "They're so good together."

Taehyung follows your line of sight, watching Hoseok lean down to murmur something in Sunny's ear that makes her giggle and press her face into his chest. "They are."

"Can you imagine loving someone like that?" Your voice is a bare whisper as if the words slipped out on their own accord, like a wish you didn't even realize you were making.

Taehyung's fingers splay at your spine, gently tugging you in until your hips are bumping his. Startled, your eyes snap back to him, breath catching in your chest. He's gazing at you intently, but as opposed to the intense fire that you've seen from him at times, there's only a deep warmth to his brown irises that you're not sure you've ever seen before. He looks at you with softness, with both a sense of familiarity and wonder that can only be attributed to your many years of companionship, and you see it all swimming behind his eyes—every day spent together seeking refuge from your families, every stupid childhood fight, every time you comforted each other through the bad days. And before you can deflect, can explain away the question as a rhetorical slip of the tongue, you hear his answer come out on a breath.

"Yes."

There’s a weight to it, the word landing from his lips like a stone into water, and you suddenly forget where you are. The world around you fades away: faces, music, and noise all receding into the background until it’s just him and you, you and him.

Just like it’s always been.

Taehyung's head dips towards you as if pulled by gravity, and your body responds in turn, hand sliding from his shoulder to the hair at the nape of his neck and eyes fluttering shut. Your breaths mingle together, his nose lightly brushing against yours, and you find yourself on the brink of keening forward, on the brink of diving headfirst into a place of no return, when—

"Hey, we're going to step outside for some air. Do you guys wanna—oh."

You spring apart. Jimin is staring at the two of you, eyes so wide you're worried they might fall out of his head. His hand is still half-raised, pointing in the direction of the doors behind him, and you use this to make your escape.

"Yeah sounds good I'll come outside definitely," you babble before speeding towards the exit. Glancing back over your shoulder, you see Jimin say something animatedly to Taehyung, but the latter shakes his head and mumbles something back, his face pink.

The night air is cool on your skin, and you could not be more grateful for it because what the fuck was that?

Were you really about to kiss your best friend? Or was he going to kiss you? Things had certainly been…different between you two recently, but this surely would have been an awful idea. If something went wrong or there was a misunderstanding, you'd likely never be able to come back from it.

He said he doesn't have feelings for you.

…But do you have feelings for him?

Maybe yes, his smile has always set your heart alight unlike anything else and yes, your brain seems to have been lingering recently on how damn handsome he is and yes, you'd do anything for him at the drop of a hat—follow him anywhere—but given your history, of course you would, right? He's your best friend.

And he deserves to be more than a rebound. Because that's what this must be—lingering heartbreak amplified by the emotions of a wedding. You may have even imagined Taehyung leaning towards you, a desperate fantasy of a mind just wanting to be loved.

That's it, you decide. Your brain must have finally snapped into a world of delusion.

You're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear Jungkook approach you, practically jumping out of your skin when he places a gentle hand on your arm.

"Y/N—shit—you okay?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes wide and apologetic.

"Yeah," you say, as your racing heart begins to calm. "You just startled me."

"Sorry, I tried to call you, but I don't think you heard. We're back over there if you want to join us." He nods his head in the direction of a patio area behind him, and you spot Namjoon, Joshua, and Wonwoo sitting around a table next to an elegant fountain, its ornamental lights illuminating the magnificent swan sitting atop it. They’re all laughing and, for some reason, the sight makes your chest tighten.

"Um, maybe in a little bit. I think I might just need a walk right now."

Jungkook studies you, biting ever so slightly into his bottom lip, and you think you see something in the way of understanding behind his eyes (you wonder if it has anything to do with the notable absence of Maya and Mingyu). "Do you want company?"

When you just give him a small smile and shake your head, he nods.

"Okay, well…you know where to find us." He moves to rejoin the others, but then turns back towards you, taking easy steps on his heels. "And just shout if you need a friend."

You meander around the outside of the hotel, following the stone path that paves its way around the perimeter. There's a certain kind of peace out here. Though the summer is nearing its close, you can still hear crickets chirping in the grass and spot the occasional firefly dangling in the air. You focus on the swishing of the cars out on the main road and try to let the sound clear your mind, but as you settle on a short brick wall overlooking the property's enormous lake, you realize it's no use.

Your eyes drift closed as you sink into the grief once again, let it slowly overtake you like quicksand until your lungs are crushed and burning. But more than anything, you’re simply exhausted—perpetually drained by the demons which have once again arrived to feast on your psyche.

At this point, you think most of your frustration lies with yourself. Maybe you’re being overdramatic, maybe you should be over it by now—if only you were stronger, more resilient. Not the miserable pushover you feel you’ve turned out to be. Harsh? Yes. Unfair? Perhaps. This does feel like the breaking point in your life’s long line of abandonments, digging up feelings you haven’t felt since you were a child.

But that being said, it also makes you feel like you should be used to it by now. Should be used to having to bounce back—what else can you expect from the world at this point, really? What a fool you were to even think that this time would be different.

The sound of quiet footsteps has you opening your eyes again, and you’re not sure whether the man in front of you is the first or last person you want to see right now.

Taehyung has his hands in his pockets, watching you with that calculated expression he always has on when he’s trying to gauge your mood. But all you can see in his face on your end is concern, not a hint of awkwardness or trepidation after what just transpired between the two of you in the ballroom.

So it really must have been all in your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Kook said you seemed upset.”

“I’m fine.” You try to push out a smile, but he unsurprisingly sees right through it, closing the gap between you and gesturing at the spot to your right.

“Mind if I sit?”

You’re still not entirely in the mood for company but you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, so you give the tiniest of nods and Taehyung settles on the wall next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, the buzz of the surrounding trees continuing its serenade. Taehyung doesn’t push, doesn’t say anything, only provides a steady presence. On particularly bad days when you were kids, you’d both wander down to the local playground and sit on the swings for a while. Sometimes you’d talk—either to rant and let it all out or make each other laugh to distract yourselves—but most nights, you’d just sit in the quiet and enjoy the feeling of not being alone.

It feels like that now, with Taehyung’s warmth radiating at your shoulder and the stars hanging above, but tonight, you’re compelled to speak.

“I’m really pathetic, huh?”

Taehyung’s eyes flash as he looks over at you, but he doesn’t interrupt, sensing you want to say more.

“I’m at my friends’ wedding, I’m supposed to be celebrating them and their love for each other, and instead I’m out here having a pity party.” You scoff. “It’s pathetic and selfish.”

“First of all, we are out here having a pity party,” Taehyung begins, and it draws a sudden laugh from you that you think sounds halfway deranged, but he only smiles.

"Secondly, you're not pathetic, and you're not selfish. You just went through a traumatic event, you know? You're allowed to have emotions."

"I know, but I just don't…want to," you sigh. "I just want it all to stop. I'm so tired of feeling weighed down especially on a day like this, but it's like it just doesn't end. The reminders don't end."

"You thought he'd be here," Taehyung says softly, and though his head nods slightly in understanding, his voice is tinged with sadness. "You miss him."

"I—that's not exactly it, no," you quickly say, not wanting him to think that you somehow regret being here with him. "Given what he did…like you’ve said, it's not forgivable, so it's not like I wish he was here. I mean, sure, are there some days where I reflexively think about him and stuff? Of course—we were together for four years—but I…still would prefer to never see him again."

Taehyung lets out a short sigh that you interpret as approval, but he stays quiet, giving you time to work out your thoughts.

"I think it's more the loss of security than anything. Seeing Hoseok and Sunny up at the alter…I couldn't help thinking that I was so, so close to that—to having that one person that I could commit to walking through life with. A partner, a friend, just someone to have day-in and day-out. Forever." You choke up, a fresh wave of tears lodging in your throat that you try to keep down. Taehyung is stiff next to you, staring down at his hands in his lap.

"And I want that, Tae. I want that so bad. But it's…so scary to start from scratch after feeling that close. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm just constantly overwhelmed and feel like I can't outrun it, and then I feel guilty on days like this because I shouldn't be letting it get to me, and—"

"Hey, hey, Y/N, shhhh." Taehyung finally jumps in as you begin to spiral, reaching out to take your hand in his. "You don't have to worry or feel guilty because you are going to have all of that. Okay? You will."

"You can't know that."

"I do." He slips his pinky around yours briefly before his hand comes up to cup your jaw, guiding your eyes to his. "I promise you. I don't know how far out it'll be, but one day we'll all be together again at a place like this, and it'll be your turn." He gets a faraway look in his eye, seemingly perceiving something that you're struggling to even grab a glimpse of right now. "It'll be everything you've ever dreamed of—intimate and outdoors, right? I know you always said growing up that you were going to get married at the Spring Day Gardens. If you still want it, it'll be yours."

You let his words draw you in, painting you a picture so beautiful you're afraid to even let your heart believe in it. But his baritone voice presses on.

"And it'll be perfect. Not a cloud in the sky—nothing but sunshine. And we'll all be there, and you'll have your favorite lily bouquet and your perfect dress…"

Something stops him, and he blinks at you, dropping his palm from your face and glancing away at the lights from the party before resuming his tale.

"And the guy…" He licks his lips, and you feel the hand that's still holding yours tighten ever so slightly. "He's going to love you so much. Properly love you. He's going to see you come down that aisle and weep because he's just going to know that he's the luckiest guy in the universe. And if he doesn't cry right away, I'll kick him in the shins up there until he does because in spite of what Jimin and Jungkook think, we all know that I'm actually your best man."

You let out a watery giggle, the tears flowing freely now, and Taehyung reaches up to swipe a few off your cheeks, letting out a chuckle of his own.

"I want to believe you," you say quietly. "And hopefully one day I will. I just…I need more time."

"Whatever you need, you know I'm here for you," he murmurs, and you nod.

You fall back into silence for a few moments, Taehyung dutifully continuing to hold your hand while you lightly sniffle and wipe at your cheeks.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to go back to the party like this—I think you ruined my make-up," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe, but you're the prettiest raccoon I've ever seen."

You laugh in earnest now, your shoulders shaking with it, and Taehyung smiles at you before suddenly rising to his feet.

"Wait here," he says, and then he's jogging back up towards the venue.

The silence envelops you again as you continue to mull over Taehyung's vision. Your battered heart is hesitant to dream, all of your imaginings coming in with fuzzy edges and blurry details that you just can't seem to place. But you're sure Taehyung was definitely right about one thing—you can't imagine a situation where you get married without him standing by your side.

It's a handful of minutes later when the man himself finally reappears with a hand behind his back and a mischievous smile on his face. When you raise your eyebrows at him in question, he comes to a halt in front of you and presents a full fifth of your favorite whiskey.

"What do you say we get out of here?"

The dim hotel lights cast a soft glow about the room as you and Taehyung pass the bottle back and forth, the mood significantly more casual than the extravagant party you just ditched. The decor may be fancy—Hoseok and Sunny certainly didn’t skimp when it came to location—but the two of you are perfectly rumpled, stretched out on the expensive sheets: you having removed your make-up and changed into your pajamas and Taehyung propped up against the headboard with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket and tie tossed over the couch.

You’ve started up a game of Truth or Drink, a somewhat milder version of Truth or Dare, where you get to take turns asking each other questions, and the respondent has the chance to either answer the question or take a mouthful of whiskey. Normally, between you and Taehyung, such a game would be low stakes, with your shared years and few secrets between you making it hard to ask challenging questions. But something about tonight and the need for a distraction seems to have made both of you competitive, going for questions that you know the other wouldn’t want to answer.

“What was the last thing you cried about?”

“One thing you don’t like about me?”

“Favorite position?”

“Did you really lose your virginity in a tree house?”

“What’s your greatest fear?”

"If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"

"Oh God, one of those cupcakes from Sweet Night Bakery," you groan. It was a place you had passed every day on the way to school, the wafting scents of cookies and cakes playing pied piper to your youthful noses. You had always dreamed of one day being able to afford the expensive pastries but had fled your hometown before having the adult money to do so.

"Seriously? Anything in the world and you want a cupcake?" Taehyung laughs, pink tongue poking out from behind his teeth.

"It's not just anything, it's one of my life's dreams," you counter, playfully shaking a fist at him for emphasis, but Taehyung seems unconvinced. "Fine then, if you have such a good answer. Same question."

He tilts his head at you, a mild haze in his eyes that tells you that while he's not drunk-drunk, he's definitely tipsy. A beat passes and he takes a drink.

"Ooh, mysterious," you slur. "But I win."

"Alright, alright." He grins at you. "I concede to your sugary dreams."

You mirror his smile, observe the way his fingers curl in his lap as you try to think of your next question. He’s always had nice hands—so delicate and careful with everything he touches. It’s odd, you think, how such gentleness could emerge from a home and upbringing that was anything but. How someone as bright as Taehyung could come from such darkness.

“Do you want kids one day?”

The question takes him by surprise when you ask it, and he physically startles, turning the bottle in his hands slowly. “I don’t know. Why?” He looks at you then, and you feel like you can see a riddle being worked out in his head. “Where did that question come from?”

“I don’t know,” you echo. “You spent so much time earlier imagining a future for me. I realized that we’ve never really talked about what you want for yourself outside of your career.”

Growing up, you’d discussed your dreams for the future, of course. But while you have always skewed towards the romantic, envisioning rings and weddings and vows, Taehyung’s always been much more practical and career-oriented—his plans always involved degrees and promotions and retirement funds.

A beat passes as he continues to fidget with the whiskey bottle before he again says, “I’m really not sure.”

“Well think about it now,” you challenge. “Or drink up.”

He chuckles to himself, some private joke in his head. “It would terrify me, I think. But I’d love them with everything I’ve got. Want to give them everything I didn’t have and be better than my parents were.”

You hum in agreement; you’ve had the same thoughts on occasion. Some who grew up in your situation may have been turned off the idea of children—and the idea does scare you in certain respects—but you’ve always been stubborn. “It’d be a chance to prove that it doesn’t have to be that hard. That you didn’t deserve what you went through.”

Fingers graze against yours in a subtle show of kinship. As always, you understand each other. “Exactly.”

And he may be struggling to imagine it, but you can see it so clearly: a small boy with big, brown eyes and a boxy smile riding on Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of them playing in the sand at the beach house or walking down the street together—the boy’s tiny hand tucked safely in his father’s.

The image chokes you up, fills you with so much warmth you think you might burst.

“You’d be an amazing father, Tae.”

There’s not a single doubt in your mind about it—that this incredible, thoughtful, selfless man would also be a wonderful dad. He doesn’t look so sure, but a flicker of recognition passes through him.

“You’ve said that to me once before,” he murmurs.

“I did?”

A nod. “One time when you were drunk junior year.”

You don’t remember it, the memory lost to the alcohol. “I guess drunk me has flashes of brilliance.”

“Maybe we’ll see someday.”

“I hope we will.”

Suddenly nervous, he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his neck. “But it’d have to be with the right person.”

“Has there ever been anyone who you thought was close?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re asking a disproportionate amount of questions.”

Reaching over, you pull the bottle from his hands, drink down a mouthful of burning liquor, and set it right back in his lap. “Answer.”

Wide eyes appraise you through the dim light; he looks almost impressed. “No.”

“No, there’s never been someone you could see a future with, or no, you won’t answer?”

“The first one,” he says. “I’ve never been with someone I could imagine having kids with.”

You frown, the blunt despondence in his tone cutting. “Not even Luna?”

A look is thrown your way—pursed lips and creased brow telling you that’s a stupid question.

“What happened with her?”

He scoffs, lips immediately wrapping around the bottle as he takes a gulp.

“So something did happen.”

“We broke up,” he states. “That’s what happened.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never said why.”

He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. As if you’ve just asked him what he wants for dinner and not why the longest relationship of his life ended. “We weren’t compatible.”

You can’t help but sigh, a small part of you hurt that he still refuses to talk about it, that he’s closed this part of himself off to you. “You don’t trust me?”

“Y/N, no.” He shakes his head, looking genuinely remorseful to have given you that impression. “That’s not it. It’s just…impossibly complicated—“

“Was it me?” You’re suddenly reminded of a conversation with Maya from weeks ago, when she’d suggested that you were the reason all of Taehyung’s relationships had failed.

His lips part, tongue pushing into his cheek like he’s trying to hold words back.

“It was, wasn’t it?” you push, and his teeth dig into his tongue now, chewing. “You can tell me. I can handle i—“

“You were part of it, yes.”

In spite of what you’ve just said, the words land like a blow. You’ve spent years watching him go through breakup after breakup, and now you find out that you were a source of that anguish all along—helped fuel that heartbreak in his life.

It pains you to think you’ve been holding him back.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” you whisper.

“Because there was nothing to tell. It didn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Tae. If I’m getting in the way of your relationships…I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy.”

That silences you, the sincerity in his voice leaving you blinking at him, and he continues.

“She didn’t like how close we are—most of them haven’t. But it doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I’ll always choose you. And that’s the end of it. Nothing left to tell.”

You feel like you should protest this, insist on him putting himself and his future first.

But given similar circumstances, wouldn’t you do the same for him?

“Did Jace ever give you shit about us?” he asks, reading your mind.

He had, ranting about Taehyung that night in some fucked up attempt to explain away why you’d found him in bed with another woman. Before then, you hadn’t noticed the signs: hadn’t picked up on his reluctance to spend time with your friends, hadn’t read into the way he stuck close to your side on the rare occasions he did, a possessive arm always tight around your waist.

It all made sense afterwards, and you hate that the vulnerability and anguish of the moment made you question your own actions. You never would’ve shut Taehyung out—never in a million years—but it initially made you think that maybe if you’d been more attentive towards Jace, had been more sensitive to his feelings, that maybe you wouldn’t have wound up in the situation you did.

You recognize now that he didn’t deserve it in the end, obviously, but heartbreak is a funny thing.

Not wanting to have to admit to any of that out loud, you whisk the bottle from Taehyung’s hands again and drink. He watches the movement of your throat with heavy, knowing eyes, immediately taking the whiskey back for his own sip once you’ve finished.

“I must admit,” he says, the alcohol clearly loosening his tongue as he sags against the headboard. “I’m a little relieved about things ending for you and Jace. Aside from him being a certified douchebag, I mean.”

You frown, not sure where he’s going with this, and the look on your face must come across as offense because he’s quick to clarify.

“Not that I liked seeing you hurt.” He shakes his head, and you can see some anger at the situation still lingering under the surface. “No, never. But I just…now I get to keep you longer at least.”

“Keep me?”

“Yeah, this…” He wags a finger between you. “You know this has to end one day, right?”

The whiskey should be warming, but your veins fill with ice at his words. Losing Jace was one thing. Losing Taehyung would be a different matter entirely.

“You’re always going to have me,” you say, reaching for his pinky.

But he pulls his hand away.

“Not like this.” He smiles with what you assume to be intended comfort, but his entire demeanor is tainted with sadness. “One day, when you have the dream guy and the family and the white picket fence, there won’t be room for me. Not like this.”

It feels like earlier—him trying to paint you a picture of a possible future for you—but unlike earlier, you can’t picture this future. You don’t want it. Not if he’s not there.

“Tae—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He gives another sad smile, takes another drink. “No husband is going to want a third wheel hanging around. I understand. I want you to be happy, too.”

But you wouldn’t be happy without him, and in many ways, you’ve always known that to be true. But that knowledge hits you now with such force, such raw truth, that it renders you speechless and leaves you staring at him, drunken eyes laser-focused as if discovering the very center of the universe.

You want to challenge him on his statement, make him see that he’s wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But the alcohol muddles your thoughts, has your brain dropping half-formed sentences through your mind like Scrabble pieces that you can’t quite wrangle into a coherent thought.

Taehyung takes your silence for agreement and, seeming to suddenly realize that some kind of line has just been crossed, takes the quiet opportunity to flip the conversation back to your game.

“The shoes you gave me for my seventeenth birthday,” he begins, the words tipping out slow and oddly calculated for someone who’s had as much to drink as he has. “Where did the money come from?”

You know where he’s going with this. And it’s perhaps the only secret you’ve kept from him in the entirety of your friendship. “Christmas money, I told you.”

“No, really.”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“I never saw that house decorated for Christmas even once.”

“Could’ve been from an aunt or uncle.”

“But it wasn’t, was it?”

It wasn’t. You snuck the money out of your father’s desk one day knowing that he wouldn’t have even noticed it was missing. Absent-minded in everything aside from work, your father had misplaced things constantly. You drink. And even though it’s supposed to be an avoidance of the question, it gives him his answer.

“I knew it.”

“They weren’t going to miss it, and you needed it more.”

“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble.”

“I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t. And it was worth the risk regardless.”

Looking back, you wish you’d had more of a fear of getting caught—wish your parents would’ve scolded you, screamed at you, anything. It would’ve been better than the indifference you’d been met with day in and day out. As if you were invisible.

Taehyung’s head swings from side-to-side. “You shouldn’t have. I would’ve been okay.”

“And you shouldn’t have punched Jace in that club, but you did anyway, didn’t you?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not. You’re not the only one who gets to put your ass on the line for the people you care about. You were worth the risk.”

He blinks, regarding you as if you’ve presented him with some outlandish concept. Like you’ve asked him to explain rocket science or open-heart surgery. “Then you should’ve told me then.”

“You would’ve given them back.”

“Maybe, but then at least we would’ve been in it together instead of you lying to me.”

“And you’ve never lied to me?”

He hesitates, tongue tracing his bottom lip. “No.”

“Okay, then. Truth or drink: what’s the worst lie you’ve ever told?”

You know there must be one, can read it in the way his shoulder is suddenly pressed against yours as he tilts into you. Fingertips skim the bare skin of your knee, tentative in their movements, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath as the distance between you closes to mere centimeters, his gaze roaming your face and snagging on your mouth.

And you feel it—the pull that you’ve always felt towards him, the gravitational force that’s kept you in the same orbit since you were children. Two souls that intertwined the moment they sensed the other’s presence with a flash of awareness and said, You, you, you.

Thinking back on the entirety of your life, you don’t know how you possibly could have made it through without him: your best friend, your partner, your sanctuary. In such a volatile world—a turbulent youth marred by uncertainty and sorrow—he took your hand and held you steady, made sure you didn’t go through it alone.

In hindsight, you can’t truly regret it. Yes, there will always be a part of you that will resent your parents, wish that they would have loved you enough to spare you the hurt and stress they put you through. But just like the night when he brought you back to your apartment—held you close as you fell asleep in his embrace—your memories with him far outweigh the trauma you endured. When you think of your time spent growing up, he is by far the brightest star, outshining any darkness that may have lingered at the corners. It’s not the empty house or your parents’ stony faces that you think of first, but him: blanket forts and starry nights and walks in the park and blurry photographs and sometimes tears, sure, but only with him there to hold you.

Looking at this man in front of you, in every familiar line of his face and body, you know, without a crumb of doubt, that you’d do it all again. Screw Jace and Luna and your parents and anyone else who’s expressed disdain at your closeness with him. He’s written into every line of your history, every memory that’s worth something. And he may fight you on it, but he’s worth every risk you’ve ever taken—you would’ve stolen a thousand pairs of shoes for him. You’d move mountains and drain the oceans if he needed you to. You’d do anything.

You couldn’t live without him. You don’t want to live without him.

A moment of clarity, a wave of revelation as you lock eyes and are met with your favorite color. And at long last, you find the words.

I love you.

Your heart throws itself off a cliff…

And you lean in to press your lips to his.

NEXT

a/n: happy holidays to all who celebrate 😊

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 10

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: Javier contemplates his future. Though he's uncertain of it, one thing he knows for sure: he wants you in it no matter what.

word count: 3.1k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut.

A/N: here we are at long last, lovebugs! I am so thankful for everyone who's supported this series, it encouraged me to keep going especially this year when I've been struggling so badly. I hope you enjoy this drama-free finale❤️

series masterlist | AO3

Javier had made peace with the notion that he would remain forever haunted by Colombia. It wasn’t something that he willingly chose or even wanted, of course, but it remained a fact; he knew he’d never be able to fully escape the life he’d lived while over there, and he’d made his peace with it.

Turns out life had some pleasant surprises in store for him, too.

Saying yes to spending the holidays with the Murphys seemed like it would be something overwhelming for Javier. The mere thought of being introduced to the parents as your boyfriend was enough to make him want to chainsmoke and get drunk for three days and three nights. But as it turned out, the two weeks he’d spent at the Murphy residence had been blissful. Javier would even call himself happy for what feels like a premiere in his life. Ever since the two of you came forward with your relationship, everything else seemed to fall into place and it all became easier somehow. Javier was head over heels for you, he hadn’t smoked in a year, and cut his drinking almost to a drastic degree—yet one thing still loomed over his head, something he hadn’t told you about.

He’d grown to despise his job.

But, much like at his old job, he learned to swallow whatever thoughts and feelings he might have on the matter and do the mature thing and see things through. After all, he has a darn good salary, good apartment, great friends and a terrific girlfriend.

Seemed like the oldest habit Javier picked up, being able to dismantle anything remotely good in his life, would always cast a large shadow that follows him everywhere.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?”

Steve’s voice is tender, caring in a manner, and yet stern and curious all at the same time. It manages to interrupt Javier’s chaotic thoughts, and the latter is nothing if not grateful for it.

Even if he does not express it verbally.

“Not much,” Javier clears his throat. 

“C’mon man, give me some credit. We’ve known each other for a few years now, been through some rough and insane shit. I like to think I know when something’s got you down.”

Javier exhales. It’s one of the few times he wishes he’d have a cigarette in his hand right about now; but the craving disappears as quickly as it had arrived, especially when he knows Steve is right. They have been partners through some of the most horrific things anyone could ever be cursed to see, and if there was ever a definition for a damn good friend, Steve would be it.

“It can’t be cause you’re still nervous about finally meeting my parents,” Steve chuckles, and surprisingly, so does Javier. “You passed the test, you’re officially the best boyfriend my sister’s ever brought home.”

“I’m flattered.”

“I’m surprised.”

The two of them chuckle again, the lighthearted sound followed by another moment of silence.

“Much as I’d hate to admit it,” Steve breaks the silence, “you are the best guy my sister’s ever dated. Compared to the parade of leeches that were around.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Not that she ever brought any of them home to formally introduce them to the family, so it really is a big compliment.”

“Thanks again, I feel all tingly inside.”

“Seriously now, what’s the matter?”

With a final exhale, Javier decides to voice his thoughts for what feels like a premiere in his life. “I hate my job.”

Steve waits, searching his friend’s face for something that eventually fails to appear to him.

“That’s it?”

“Okay, not hate, hate, but… I don’t know, it’s not something I enjoy doing. Not anymore.”

Steve pats him on the back, then gestures him to sit down alongside him.

“First off, I’m a bit relieved,” he begins, much to Javier’s dismay. “I thought you were gonna say something really bad.”

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know, wanting to end things with my sister. In which case I would’ve had to kill you.”

“I’m not breaking up with her, fucking hell. Why would I—hang on. So I’m not allowed to break up with her?”

“Why would you break up?”

“I don’t know, sometimes things don’t work out. Constant fights, lies, affairs—“

“You better not be cheating on my sister. I swear to God Javi, if you so much as—“

“I’m not! Fucking Christ, can we stay on topic?!”

“I was just saying.”

“I am not cheating, I am not lying, I am not doing anything bad, okay? I love her, she loves me, and… I’d like for us to get married someday. I think.”

Steve’s jaw drops; the only thing he can do is stare at Javier in awe, trying his best to process the words he just heard.

“You—you wanna get married?” Steve blabbers.

Javier shrugs, then nods.

“With… my sister.”

“I feel like that was implied.”

“So when are you gonna—“

“I’m not saying now. We’ve been together for like half a year only, and… you know me. Takes me time to open up.”

“Wow, okay, this is a lot to process.”

“Good thing we’re sittin’ down, huh?”

Steve chuckles against his best wishes, staring into distance.

“Look, back to the job thing, if it makes you miserable, why don’t you quit? That’s why you left Colombia, isn’t it?”

“Partially.”

“Right. Point is, if you hate the job, quit it. You can find another one.”

“And do what? Do you see me as a barista?”

“A job is a job. It doesn’t define you. And your contributions in Colombia will always remain yours, but—what do you want to do?”

Javier exhales, shrugging again. “I was thinking of going back to Laredo, at least for a little while. Help my pops around the ranch. He’s not getting any younger, he needs some help.”

“Alright, that sounds great, do that!”

“And I was thinking… I’d ask her if she wants to come with me.”

“Hang on. You wanna move to Texas? Both of you?”

“I haven’t asked her yet.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then I guess we do long-distance.”

“Wow. What happened to you?”

Javier frowns.

“You’re—flexible, open-minded, considerate of other people’s feelings… she’s changing you. In a good way.”

The more Javier thinks about it, the more he’s inclined to agree with Steve. He has felt significantly better over the past few months, and even his nightmare frequency has decreased to the point where he’s barely having them. He didn’t want to be as cheesy as to say that you’re the reason he feels the best he’s ever felt since he was a teenager, but what if you are?

What if you are the very best thing that’s ever happened to him?

“So, to recap… you wanna quit your job, ask my sister to move with you to Texas so you can live on a ranch and then ask her to marry you,” Steve says in a monotone voice.

“Basically, yeah.”

“Just talk to her, alright? Talk to her about what you’re thinking, that’s all you gotta do. It’ll work out.”

“Thanks.”

After another moment of silence and a big gulp, Javier adds rather hesitantly, “Do you think she wants to get married? If I ask her… do you think she’ll say yes?”

“She’s the one who has to answer that question.”

“What question?”

Both Steve and Javier turn abruptly to their right, being met with your smiley face. You greet Javier first by briefly pecking his lips, then you nod in Steve’s direction.

“What question am I supposed to answer, you guys?” you ask again, chuckling.

Your smile fades when you see that neither one of them answers you, keeping silent.

“Did someone die?” you ask instead.

“No, no,” Steve fake-laughs to defuse the situation. “All’s good.”

“Okay, so then why do you both look constipated?”

Steve and Javier exchange a glare with one another, thus only reinforcing your suspicions.

“I don’t think I should be here for this,” Steve stands with an awkwardly wide smile. “Gonna give you lovebirds some space and uh… I’ll give you a ring later.”

Javier’s lips pucker and his eyes shoot up right at Steve, whereas you can only stare at them, brows furrowed in utter confusion.

“I mean, on the phone,” Steve laughs, half outside the apartment already. “See ya.”

“That was weird, right?” you ask Javier.

“Don’t look at me, he’s your brother.”

You nuzzle up to him, your hand intertwined with his and your head resting on his shoulder. God, he always smells so nice, of cologne and some musk that you like to think is particular to him and only him.

“So. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Why do you assume something’s going on?”

“I see you acting like school girls with a big crush trying to keep it a secret. Feel like sharing?”

He can’t fight you; he failed to fight you since the beginning, when he was way too stubborn to even see what was right in front of him, so how could he possibly do it now, when your voice is so sweet and caring and you’re so soft and warm?

“I don’t like my job,” Javier finally says. “Haven’t liked it in a while, but I thought I have to see it through, at least till my contract expires, then I’ll figure it out, but… it’s hard.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How long till your contract expires?”

“Another year, but I don’t think I can stand being around murder cases for that long.”

“I get that. Hits a bit too close to where it haunts you, doesn’t it?”

Javier is the one to meet your eyes first, nodding. Months have gone by since the two of you have become intimate in every possible way, and yet it still surprises him greatly that you are so familiar with the cues of his insecurities and fears, sometimes even when he himself isn’t.

“You should quit your job then,” you tell him, caressing the back of his hand. “You’ll find something else, no matter what that is.”

“What kind of job do you think I could do? Since I trained, this is… this is all that I know.”

“You can do anything you like, honey. You can sell tires, be a flight attendant, anything. That’s not what’s important.”

“What is, then?”

You cup his cheeks, thus bringing him closer to your face as you breathe, “What matters most is that you’re okay. It’s just a job.”

You peck his lips again, and Javier closes his eyes, exhaling a little softer this time. The way you manage to calm him down every time, without fail, is something he would’ve called insanity some years ago—that is, if he would’ve even believed this was possible.

“There’s something else,” Javier murmurs, his forehead pressed gently against yours.

“Tell me.”

“I’m… thinking of going back to Laredo.”

You slowly let go of Javier in order to get a better look at him. You’re not sure what you’re trying to accomplish with such a hilarious move, but it’s the only one your body can come up with for the time being.

It’s not that his news is shocking. Quite the contrary, it’s natural; you suspected at some point Javier might feel homesick, but it seems that actually hearing the words has managed to bring you into an unforeseen state of surprise.

“Okay,” you say after a while, your hands now in your lap as you rummage through his words. “Permanently?”

“I don’t know,” Javier admits. “Would be ironic since I couldn’t wait to get out of that town when I was a teenager.”

You chuckle. “It’s normal, you were a kid wanting to know more. Now you’re a grown man, having seen a lot of the world. Parts of it that could easily destroy someone and yet you—“

“I wasn’t exempt from that, baby. That job did destroy me in some ways.”

“You’re still here though.”

Javier smiles, reaching for your hand. “I’m still here.”

“Going back to your hometown isn’t a bad thing at all, by the way.”

“I know. It feels kinda strange though. But my dad needs help around the ranch, even if he’s too proud to admit it, to me at least, and… that way I could be useful and do things that I know how to do. I could get a job there.”

“Sounds like you have it figured out.”

“Almost.”

You raise your eyebrows, facing him fully again.

“Almost?” you tease with a smile, which prompts him to do the same. “What else are you thinking about?”

“What if you came with me?”

Your whole face lights up, and this time you can truly say you were taken by surprise.

“You’re asking me to go to Laredo with you?”

“I’m asking you if that’s something that you’d like. If not, that’s fine. We can go long distance, I think. Right? I mean, lots of people do it.”

“You wanna do long distance?”

“I’m saying that’s an option.”

“You do realize that’s mostly talking and no sex, right?”

You actually see Javier gulp and visibly reconsider his opinion, much to your personal delight.

“Some sex can be involved,” he pushes much to your amusement.

“Phone sex doesn’t really count.”

“Damn it.”

You chuckle. “But I wouldn’t worry about that, we’re gonna have some great sex, honey.”

“Wh—you mean you’re coming with me?”

“Hell yes. I want to see your roots, meet your family… I hope they like me.”

“Are you kidding me? They’re gonna fuckin’ adore you.”

You smile at him, kissing him again.

“Are you sure about it though?” he checks with you. “I don’t wanna uproot you or anything, and it’s a big change—“

“Do they have a library over there?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then it’s no problem.”

Utterly bewildered, Javier can only stare at you in awe. He still fears that he’ll forever lack the words to properly express to you how much you mean to him and how he truly feels about you. He’s always managed to avoid sappy conversations and to make up for what he lacks in words with actions, but with you, he feels like he needs to do more.

And there is something more he could do.

“What?” you ask amusedly when his eyes do not peel off of you.

“There is another thing I am thinking about.”

“Which is?”

A smirk graces Javier’s lips, and in that moment you come to realize that not only is it a mischievous smirk, but the reason behind it is something that genuinely excites Javier.

And that is in and of itself something incredible to witness.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?”

You raise your eyebrows and try to stifle a big smile. “About us getting married?”

“No, not necessarily us—well, actually, yes, a little us. A lot. Just—marriage in general. Have you ever… wanted to? Eventually?”

“If this really is how you’re proposing, sweetie, I feel like you can do better.”

Javier laughs out of sheer nervousness by now, but it’s probably for the first time in his adult life when he doesn’t feel embarrassed to be talking about his feelings out in the open.

“I do think about marriage,” you decide to ease his mind and stop teasing. “I don’t think it’s necessary for everyone, but I also don’t think it changes anything in a relationship. If it’s a strong relationship, marriage is only gonna strengthen it.”

“Dully noted.”

“My point is, I would like to get married, yes, since that seems to be the answer you’re after. Haven’t wanted to get married to any of my exes, so.”

“Now I’m flattered.”

“Ooh, so that’s why you and Steven were acting so weird when I got here!”

And then you gasp at the realization. “Oh my God, that’s the question I had to answer, isn’t it? If I want to marry you.”

Javier feels his cheeks flush in the slightest, so he clears his throat and looks away for a little while till he can organize his thoughts.

“Just to be clear, I wasn’t actually going to propose now,” he says. “It was a hypothetical, if I were to ask, would you say yes.”

“You can ask me and we’ll find out.”

Dumbfounded, Javier stares at you for what feels like an eternity. While he’s definitely gotten used to your humor and your bluntness, right now he can’t seem to tell whether you are serious or not.

“Are you serious?” Javier retorts, surprised to find out this is the only thing that he can ask, as silly as it sounds.

“You’re the one who brought up marriage.”

“Yeah but I didn’t mean—I’m not ready now. I don’t have a ring, I haven’t thought about a speech—“

You giggle, pulling him closer to you again. “Aw you’re nervous, it’s so cute.”

“I’m not—“

“It’s cute.”

You peck his lips and smile at him reassuringly. “Look, Javi, it’s great to know that you’re thinking about this too. Means we’re on the same page. But I do think we should give ourselves some more time before making things official. Maybe go to Laredo first, spend some time there with your dad and the rest of your family. Does that sound good?”

“It sounds like a dream honestly. The kind of dream I… didn’t think I could have. Or should have. For a long time there were only nightmares and pain and death, and now… there’s warmth and softness and light. And it’s all because of you.”

“Javi.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

There was no need for Javier to hide his smiles, or hide in general. If anyone would ask him now how he felt, he’d probably reply with “disgustingly happy” because that is the most accurate description of his feelings.

“Are you sure about Laredo?” he asks you, and you roll your eyes at him.

“One hundred percent. Are you sure about marriage?”

“Two hundred percent.”

You smile. “Okay. So when you have your speech prepared and bought a ring—even if you don’t have to, by the way—you can ask me.”

“What if it’s tomorrow?”

“Then I guess tomorrow’s the day you hear my answer to that question.”

Deep down, Javier knows already. He sees the answer all over your face, he feels it in the way you hold him, in the way you kiss him and in the way you ease his mind and cast the nightmares away. He knows your answer.

But it’d still be incredible to hear it spoken from your lips.

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tags: @pedrostories @psychedelic-ink @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @casa-boiardi @fallenkitten @jenispunk

[sluttyten]

You In My Arms

Chapter 4: Promises

(gif credit to: huangrenjuns)

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: your time at university is coming to an end, but Haechan isn't going anywhere, and neither is your long-standing crush on him

length: 13,144

tags: voyeurism, exhibitionism, slowburn, friends to lovers, masturbation, general perversion, smut

previous chapter || next chapter  (Coming Soon)

As time passes, your graduation date growing closer and closer, you try to spend more time with your friends. Sure, you’re looking for a job and all that stuff too, hoping to jump right into a career after graduation, but also you’re not ready to let go of all of this just yet – your friends and this somewhat carefree life. 

You take every moment.

You cherish the lunch breaks with your friends, hanging out between classes or after work, going bowling together with some of them on a Saturday night. You take photos and videos, keepsake memories with all of them.

You want to remember it all. To remember way it feels to be surrounded with friends, to laugh with Jaemin and Shotaro in the sunny courtyard outside the sciences building, to eat a gourmet feast Xiaojun made for his culinary cornerstone class.

You enjoy the excitement when you run with Haechan to the cafe in the break during your three-hour lecture to grab a caffeine-punch in a cup — the way he laughs at you as you try not to spill your drink while you jog back to class, the silly way he smiles when you laugh at him for having smudged the pile of whipped cream on top of his drink onto his face. 

You spend plenty of time with all of your friends over those final few weeks after midterms, but surprisingly, you spend quite a bit of time with Renjun too. Despite his awkward departure that night after you messed around during the movie, things were going perfectly smooth. 

It probably helped that neither of you mentioned it for quite a while after that. 

You’ve always been on good terms with Renjun, but over those final weeks of your final semester, you actually become quite close with him in a purely friendly way. You study together, hang out together, grab coffee and lunch and dinner. You talk about stuff, about the impending ominously dark cloud of your futures that looms ahead of you. You talk about many things, yet you both ignore the events of that movie night, not talking about it at all until weeks later. 

On a late Saturday morning, you meet Renjun to grab coffee before you go shopping together. It’s at a little place just a few blocks away from your apartment, and unfortunately, too close to the apartment of a guy you’d attempted to hook up with just a couple weeks ago. 

It’s truly unfortunate when the guy walks in while you’re standing there with Renjun. 

“Oh, shit!” You hiss, tucking yourself into Renjun’s shadow. 

Renjun freezes, barely even moving his mouth when he asks, “What? What’s wrong?”

Quickly you sum up the story for him, whispering it in his ear, and Renjun just smirks and shakes his head. He lets you keep hiding behind him until your drinks are ready, until you’ve snuck out of the shop without being noticed by the guy.

Once you’re outside, Renjun begins laughing. “I guess I should be glad you don’t treat me like that.” 

You take a sip of your drink and look sideways at him. “Honestly, I’m the one who was worried you were going to start avoiding me. After that night.”

Renjun clears his throat, and for about half a block, the two of you walk in silence tinged with awkwardness — the subject hovers right there between you, unable to be avoided now that it’s been mentioned. 

“Look,” Renjun sighs when you reach a crosswalk. Cars whip by, stirring up a breeze. “About that night….”

“Renjun, it’s fine! You don’t —“

“No, listen.” He takes your hand, and you turn to look at him. Renjun clears his throat. “What we did that night, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m kinda seeing someone, and it’s been a tentative thing for a while now.” He doesn’t meet your gaze as he says, “It’s this older guy at the place where I’m interning, so it’s not like we’ve been able to be upfront about it.”

Well, shit. There’s someone else? Did you pressure him into it that night? And, also, on top of that, you didn’t know Renjun was even interested in men. 

As if he can read the look of mild panic on your face, Renjun quickly says, “I’m bisexual, which I’ve never really said out loud before. So it’s not like I didn’t enjoy it. I did. It was a sexy situation, and you were very tempting.”

The light changes, and Renjun starts walking away, his hand still wrapped around yours. He starts talking again as you draw level with him, side by side. “The reason I just walked away that night after everything was finished is because I suddenly remembered him, and like, I’ve got this thing with him, and I really like him. So I thought I’d fucked up, and I panicked a little bit. He and I aren’t exclusive at the moment, but I still didn’t want to mess things up.”

You understand. That night is in the past, though now what little awkwardness about it remained has faded. 

You’re happy that Renjun feels comfortable enough with you to be open and honest with you, as he’d said, he’s never told anyone he’s bisexual before. And you’re just happy for him as he begins telling you about the guy he’s kinda seeing. 

Since you’re the only one of your friends that knows about this secret not-relationship going on, Renjun starts telling you, over the following days and weeks, all about the guy. He shows you pictures of him, tells you cute stories, and he even introduces you to him once when you have to swing by the guy’s apartment to pick Renjun up on your way to class. 

It’s a nice building. Nice enough that it has a doorman who gives you a strange look when you pull up to the curb and sit there waiting. You sit there, idling for a moment, and that’s when Renjun emerges. 

The guy walking beside him is wearing a cozy looking sweatshirt, a pair of basketball shorts, sandals, a backwards cap, and sunglasses. He doesn’t look like the supremely wealthy man you would typically imagine living here, nor does he totally match with the professional shots Renjun has shown you from their company’s website or his own social media. 

To your total surprise, as Renjun opens the door and slides into the passenger seat of your car, he rolls down the window and waves his not-boyfriend over. The man leans at the window with his arms folded on the edge of the car door, grinning in at Renjun before he looks over at you. 

“Hi,” he greets you. “I’m Jaehyun.”

He extends a hand, and you take it. He has a firm businessman grip, a strong handshake, a contrastingly cherubic smile. He’s tall and handsome, built like the type of man you’d see in a magazine. 

“Nice to meet you,” he tells you as he withdraws from the car a moment later. And to Renjun, he says, “I’ll see you later at the office.”

Renjun smiles and nods, his eyes softening when he looks at Jaehyun. “See you later, hyung.”

As soon as Renjun has rolled the window up, as soon as you’re pulling away, you exclaim, “I can see why you’ve been keeping him all to yourself. He’s even hotter in person, Renjun.”

To that, he just laughs. “I want to show him off. But we can’t go public since I’m an intern and he’s technically my boss right now. He’s, uh, a little bit like you. Doesn’t mind getting a little handsy in public.”

You blush as you drive. 

Renjun doesn’t even know half of it. You haven’t told him everything about the interests you’ve taken. All he knows is the way you’d not shied away from his wandering hands during the movie night, how you’d reciprocated without hesitation. 

He doesn’t know that lately you’ve been venturing out to explore your exhibitionist hungers somewhat regularly too. But you feel a little too wary about doing anything by yourself completely in public, fearing the negative consequences of getting caught, so you mostly just keep it in your car. Masturbating in your car in the parking lot on campus or while you’re driving. But there’s a missing thrill when you do that because there’s no one to really see you, which is a little contradictory to why you won’t do it properly out in public. 

Luckily, Renjun changes the subject, steering things away from your sex life or his. And for the most part, you don’t talk about it again until a few days later. 

The end of the semester is rapidly approaching, days filled with studying for finals, working on final projects, spending every waking moment working towards the finale of your time in school. That’s when the subject of Jaehyun finally comes up again. You’d just asked how things were going, Renjun had answered simply, and after a few moments of silence, he spoke up again. 

“I told Jae that I hooked up with you once,” Renjun admits.  

You’re sitting together on the floor of his bedroom, studying for different classes, but you decided to do it together. Haechan and Jaemin had been here earlier too, but Jaemin left for the gym with Jeno, and Haechan had finally left because he had to go to work at the restaurant. So now it’s just the two of you. 

You look over at him. 

“Jae said he thinks we must’ve looked good together, and I told him that no one was watching so I wouldn’t know how good we looked together. That we really just swapped a handjob and me fingering you beneath the blankets, so it wasn’t much to look at.” Renjun taps the end of his pen against his notebook, and he’s studying you, looking along the length of you stretched out on your belly on his floor. “He said he still would’ve loved to have seen.”

Yeah, well, you’d like to see him and Jaehyun together too. Renjun is so pretty and Jaehyun is so handsome. You’ve seen his hard muscles in some of the photos Renjun has shown you, plus the day that you picked Renjun up, Jaehyun was wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed off arms so beautiful they could have been marble sculpted by an old-world artist. Renjun has shared a few details about their sex life, enough that  you’re intrigued. You’re sure he and Jaehyun make a pretty picture too. 

Renjun looks away from you, staring down at his pen tapping on the page. His cheeks are a little pink when he says, “He’s given me permission to have sex with you again, if you’re down for it. But he wants to see. If it happens, he wants me to film it.”

A bolt of heat shoots down to your core, spreading fast through you as you sit up to properly look Renjun in the eye. “Are you serious?”

Renjun nods, nervously avoiding eye contact. “Yeah. It’s weird, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about it, but you were into the like exhibitionism of that night, so I thought maybe you could be into this too? But, I get it’s weird so if it’s too weird or if you just don’t want to do it at all, I understand and we can forget all about this.”

But you do want it. It’s exactly what you’ve kinda been wanting. To have someone watch without the risk of it becoming a problem. And you like Renjun; it’s not like the thought of doing anything more sexual with him hadn’t crossed your mind since that first time. 

“Ok. Can I make one request?” You ask, already closing your textbook and pushing your notes away. 

Renjun nods. 

“Can we do it in my car?”

So the next day, you and Renjun are in your car. You’re parked in the back of a parking lot on campus, far away from anyone else, facing a border of trees. Renjun, while he’d agreed to the car thing, didn’t actually want anyone to be able to see, so you’d drawn up this happy medium. 

He props his phone up on your dashboard, and you climb into his lap. The day is warm enough that without the AC on in the car, you’re already sweating, especially when your bare thighs rest against Renjun’s. He’s shimmied his shorts down to his ankles, sitting in the passenger seat of your car in just his underwear. 

“We do look good,” Renjun comments as he looks over and readjusts the angle of the phone. 

You pull the sundress you’re wearing over your head, dropping it back into the driver’s seat. Now you sit nude on Renjun’s lap, sunlight pouring in through the windows over your skin. You put your fingertips just beneath Renjun’s chin, tipping his face up until his gaze meets yours. “Let’s show ourselves off to your man.”

He touches you, running his hands over your thighs, hips, your belly, your chest. You didn’t discuss it beforehand, but Renjun curls his hand against the back of your neck and brings you in for a kiss. His mouth is soft, his breath sweet. Renjun is gentle with you as you both get to know each other a little better, as he softens you up and as he slips his hand down to open you up with his fingers. You don’t hold yourself back, not in the sounds you make or the way you grind onto his fingers. You don’t care that the windows are cracked to allow in a breeze, that your moans might carry across the parking lot. 

After a few minutes, Renjun loses the stiffness brought on by uncertainty. He loses a bit of that softness when he grabs both of your hips and drags you a little higher in his lap. He lifts a hand to your throat, holding on as he brings his lips to your ear and tells you, “Want you to ride my cock like a good slut. Yeah?”

A swift smack to your ass with one hand gets you moving. 

You push at Renjun’s shoulders, pinning him back into the seat. “Why don’t you just sit back and enjoy, huh?”

Renjun does just that, relaxing back into the seat. He slides the hand down from your throat, to your shoulder, down your arm. His fingertips trace the rounded curve of your breast, down your side, over your hip and your thigh, down to your knee where it bends beside his hip. 

You squeal with surprise when suddenly the seat moves, falling nearly horizontal. 

Renjun laughs, lifting his hand from where it had fallen to the lever beside the seat, the one he’d used to make the sudden move. “Now,” Renjun says, “Now, ride me, beautiful.”

So you do exactly that. 

You fuck Renjun, riding him on that small seat in your car, both of you baking under the heat until sweat pools in all the small places, until your skin sticks to his disgustingly. Your car rocks as you ride him, and the phone filming all of this slips from its perch on the dashboard a few times until Renjun finally picks it up and holds it himself, focusing it where he disappears inside you, aiming it at your tits when he puts a hand on one, speaking to you, and capturing your moans and wordless replies. He films every part of you but your face, which had been another request of yours. 

Renjun pushes you off his cock just seconds before his orgasm mounts, and he releases across his belly, gasping and groaning. 

“Don’t move,” he groans as you begin to climb off him into the driver’s seat again. “You didn’t finish. Let me.”

It takes some careful rearrangement, but after a moment you’re the one reclining in the seat. Renjun has pushed the seat as far back from the dashboard as allowed, and he’s carefully squeezed himself down onto the floor, kneeling there with your legs draped over his shoulders as he dips in to lick you out. 

It’s great. It’s fun. 

You’re leaned far enough back that you can’t see the rest of the parking lot beyond the windows, only the sky above. But you can still hear, and you hear as a few people pass nearby the car, as Renjun does a certain thing that makes you let out a completely inappropriate sound. You hear the conversation of those outside pause, but you don’t even mind, in fact it perhaps excites you even more as Renjun carries you straight over the edge of your orgasm. 

That time is not the only time. Apparently Jaehyun likes seeing you and Renjun together. 

Jaehyun never wants to physically be present to witness it, just wants to see videos and pictures, and once he does call so he can listen and direct Renjun from a distance. 

It’s just sex. Great sex. Fun sex, sometimes in public but sometimes in Renjun’s room at the rental house. 

You keep it secret between you two. No one needs to know about the confusing nature of whatever is happening between you. They don’t have to know that while you’re all over hanging out at the rented house that you’re wondering about the likelihood of dragging Renjun into the laundry room for a quickie, or you’re wishing that you could just be riding him on the swing on the back porch with each of you wearing an AirPod with Jaehyun connected through a phone call like you’ve done before. None of them have to know at all, not that they’d notice. 

No, instead they’re all typically busy focusing on games or whatever movie or drama someone puts on. Or, such as on this particular night, a karaoke machine. 

Jaemin brought one home from the rec center on campus because it was outdated and they were going to trash it. So he’s brought it home for some fun tonight, and pretty much everyone has been having fun with it, and paying no attention to anything else, fully distracted. Even Renjun who keeps missing the way you’re trying to catch his eye. 

Your mind has been preoccupied with those thoughts about being bent over the washing machine in the laundry room, but it’s clear as you fail to catch Renjun’s eye for the fifth time tonight that it’s not going to happen. 

So you decide to give in to just having regular non-sexual fun tonight. To just enjoy the company of your friends, to pick up the mic and sing karaoke along with the rest. You’ll do anything for the prize of the cheap ass gold trophy one of the guys bought as a joke during your freshman year, the one that gets passed around any time there’s a contest. 

Haechan, tragically, is just getting over a cold and his voice is still a bit hoarse, so he’s had to sit out on the karaoke fun. He’d pouted for a while earlier when Jaemin brought the machine out, but once Mark had suggested that Haechan be the karaoke maestro for the evening, his mood improved. 

Therefore, Haechan is the one holding the control for the karaoke machine when you jump to your feet, ready for your chance. He grins at you, and you get this silly, starry-eyed feeling, bunnies jumping around in your belly. You pinch the inside of your elbow, trying to chase the thoughts away. You need to get over your crush on him. It’s been long enough. 

“What’ll it be? Anything in particular?” Haechan rasps, lifting his eyebrows as he scrolls through the selection. “Or dealer’s choice?”

“Don’t do it,” Chenle warns from where he’s sunken into a beanbag chair, arms folded and his eyebrows set in a deep frown. Just moments ago he failed disastrously after the song Haechan had chosen for him proved to be surprisingly too difficult. 

Haechan blinks up at you, fluttering his eyelashes with a sweet smile, the face of innocence.  

“Yeah, absolutely not,” you laugh. “I know what I want. ‘You In My Arms’ by Yoo Jae Ha, please, Haechan.”

It’s a slow ballad song, but it’s one you like. You’d heard it once and immediately fallen in love with the old song. It’s certainly the oldest choice of all the songs that have been sung so far tonight. 

“That one?” Haechan asks, a tone of surprise weaving through the scratch of his voice. 

“Yes.” You straighten up, turning to face the screen fully, trying to put Haechan out of your line of sight. 

You put your heart and soul into the performance. A few of the others sing along in the background, and even if you’re not the best singer in the room, you’re not the worst. You sink down into your spot on the floor, pretty pleased with yourself honestly, although Xiaojun ends the night in possession of the trophy, vowing that he’ll take good care of it. 

It’s only when someone points out that he might be the one to end up with possession of the trophy permanently with graduation coming up that the mood of the night sours. The end of the semester is quickly approaching, and many of you are graduating, and things will be different. There won’t be nights of congregating in the rented house just off campus, no more pointless competitions for the sake of the trophy. 

It’s coming to an end. 

Someone has the idea, on that bittersweet note, for all of you to take a group picture together because for the first time in forever, your entire close-knit group is all in attendance. And it would be nice to have a group photo to remember everyone by. 

“God damn, we’re not dying,” Haechan says. The words are rough, grating out of his throat and grating along sensitive nerves among the group. One of the girls starts crying, dragging everyone she can reach together into a half-hug, half-pose for the photo. 

Renjun sets his phone up, sets a timer, and everyone clusters together. Shoulders, knees, elbows knock as everyone scrambles to fit into the frame. Someone steps on someone else’s hand. There’s an elbow digging into someone’s thigh. A hand brushes your back, slipping over your shoulder as they lean on you a bit. 

The unexpected weight throws you off balance, and you almost fall forward until the hand on your shoulder drops to your waist, holding you steady, holding you up. 

“Smile everyone!” Someone says. 

The camera flashes bright. You hear the snap of the iPhone’s camera. 

The group disintegrates, people moving immediately. The hand on your waist falls away. 

You turn around to see who it was. 

Renjun smiles brightly right there. Mark is there too, laughing and swatting Renjun and Haechan on the shoulders. Haechan smiles too, silently laughing along with Mark. None of the three of them look at you. 

Renjun promises he’ll send the picture out to everyone, but then someone breaks out a couple bottles of wine. Glasses are poured, toasts are made, memories remembered. The night passes, tasting bittersweet on everyone’s tongues. 

“Let’s take a trip,” someone suggests before the night ends. “Let’s all go away somewhere after graduation. One last trip with all of us!”

Haechan is the one to suggest, “We could go overseas to somewhere warm with a beach and get drunk to celebrate.” He’d looked around at your friends, a light glimmering in his eyes, a touch of his insatiable voyeuristic hunger residing in that look. “How about Thailand?”

No official plans are set in stone that night. There’s been too much drinking already, people get sucked back into the lure of the karaoke machine, and others start to head home. You should go home too. Tomorrow you have an interview for a job that starts after graduation. You need to get some rest. 

But Haechan offers you another turn on the karaoke machine, any song, your choice. You can turn that down. As you slide down onto the sofa beside him, your shoulder brushes his, fingers sliding against the back of his hand while you use the controller to select the song you want. 

And maybe it’s your imagination, just wishful thinking brought on by your crush, but you think he leans into you, that he sighs a little when you touch his hand. 

Regardless of the truth of your experience, you cradle the warm feeling brought on by Haechan’s potential reaction, carrying it with you all the way home later that night.

It is a total relief, a weight lifted off of your shoulders, to be walking out into a beautiful, sunny, temperate day knowing that you have just received a job offer from the company you wanted to work at. 

The Neo Corporation is a business created by an alumni of your school, Johnny Suh. He’s hired many people who’ve also attended your school, so you felt like your odds at getting hired were pretty good. Especially since you’ve been there at the top of pretty much every class, top grades and performance. 

So today, after your interview, you walk out of the building with a nice job offer that you’re absolutely going to accept. 

“Well, how did it go?” A voice from behind you. A burst of cool air as the doors of the building are opened again. 

You turn around.

Haechan saunters forward, hands tucked in the pockets of his tailored black pants. His shirt is tucked in and crisp. His hair is styled instead of the fluffy mess it had been just last night during all the karaoke-ing. He’s wearing glasses again and an open smile. 

You forgot that he was here too. You’d seen him sitting there waiting when you were called in for your interview, but in all the excitement of how well the interview had gone and then receiving the offer, you’d miraculously forgotten about Haechan. That has rarely ever happened when he’s in your vicinity. 

“I got the job!” You lift your hands to your face, cool palms against your warm cheeks. You’re still surprised and elated, your face flushed with happiness. “What about you?”

The Neo Corporation was hiring multiple positions as the company was looking to finally expand a bit more. 

Haechan grins, and as he comes up beside you, he throws his arm over your shoulders. “I got it too, of course. You already know I could charm my way into anything.” He says it smugly and teasingly, offering you a wink that makes your heart beat a little faster. 

You push him away a little, half heartedly because you don’t actually want him to pull his arm away from your shoulders. Luckily he leaves it there as you start walking towards where you’ve parked your car. You ask, “So I’m stuck with you even after graduation?”

“Oh, dear,” Haechan laughs, “Yeah, I think we might be stuck with each other for a long time. It’s a good thing you enjoy my company.”

His arm slides away from your shoulders and he steps away, but you find yourself drifting closer to his side. “We’ve got to have each other’s backs, got it?” You tell him. “We’re in this together. Friends and coworkers, teammates.” 

Haechan nods seriously, holding his hand out to you, pinky finger extended. “I promise.”

You loop your pinky finger with his, holding his gaze as you make this pinky promise. An unbreakable vow. “I promise.”

The day of graduation comes too quickly. Final exams pass in a series of successes, final projects are submitted without a hitch. Your contract with the Neo Corporation is signed and submitted, and your orientation is scheduled to begin in two weeks.

But first, before all of that, before the entirety of the rest of your life stretches out before you, there’s the trip to Thailand planned with your friends. Before life, first there is the promise of fun and relaxation, adventure and alcohol as you all fly to Thailand, and cram a dozen of you into one house for a week. 

Everyone comes, which is kind of hectic to plan and organize, especially when some of your friends don’t even jump onto the trip until rather last minute. 

You don’t know if it’s the heat or something else, but something about those days spent in Thailand has everyone horny. 

In between the adventures — trips to historic and religious sites, a trip to a busy market in the city, a few hikes — and just simply relaxing on the beach, it seems that everyone is sneaking around and having sex. 

You hear sounds from the rooms the others are in. Echoing moans from the bathroom. You know the outdoor shower certainly gets more use than just for showering – you catch Jaemin walking in there once and moments later soft moans echoed out. You were pretty certain you spotted YangYang getting handsy on the beach with a European tourist he met at one of the bars in town. 

You are no exception. The heat just gets under your skin and drives you wild as you lounge on a float in the pool, watching Haechan swim laps, watching Renjun wrestling YangYang in the shallows. You watch both of them closely for the first day, unable to pull your gaze away from Haechan because he’s the object of your list and affection, but Renjun as well. Because you know that if you approach him, it’ll be so easy. 

It only takes a few hours for you to snap, to drag Renjun away from your friends and tell him that you need to get off. That leads to the pair of you sneaking around the house and on the beach, having sex at every opportunity over the next few days. You also use that outdoor shower for non-showering activities. 

You try to get it all out of your system, just wanting to not feel horny. All you want is to enjoy a day trip to a beautiful ancient temple, but your mind can only focus on Haechan standing beside you in a loose white tank top that doesn’t hide the way the muscles in his arms flex. And since when does he have toned arms? Has he been working out? You can only watch his hands as he gently brushes his fingers over objects in the market. You can only stare as his swim trunks rise up around his thighs when he sits down across from you under the pergola behind the house you’re all staying at, his hand fisted around a water bottle held between his thighs — your mind immediately turns to filthy thoughts of his hand around his cock, his golden thighs on display and his head thrown back with a moan instead of just laughter at a joke that Jeno is telling. 

That night you drag Renjun out to the beach when no one is paying attention, and you beg him to please let you do whatever you want with him to just get these urges out of your system. He lets you, and he doesn’t have to know that when your eyes are closed it’s because you’re thinking of Haechan. Although, to be fair, when you’re kneeling in the sand, sucking his cock with his fingers threaded through your hair, he could just as easily be imagining you as Jaehyun as you’re imagining he’s Haechan. 

That night is certainly not the only time that week. 

You know that you and Renjun aren’t alone in all of this horniness. Everyone is getting action either from among your friend group or from locals or other tourists in the area. 

Everyone except Haechan.

You try not to notice, but obviously you can’t help it. Everyone pairs off, even if they’re swapping pairs like YangYang keeps doing when he trades out the tourist for a local girl and that local girl for Giselle in your friend group, and then Giselle for another tourist. 

But Haechan is always alone, though he seems entertained by everything going on around him even if he’s not directly involved in any action.

On your final night in Thailand, several of the guys decide to cook for everyone. Xiaojun has just graduated with a culinary degree, Haechan just enjoys cooking, and after a recent trip abroad Chenle is now possibly considering switching his major to culinary arts. The three of them prepare dinner for everyone, serving it out by the pool with many drinks to be had by everyone. The drinking lasts a lot longer than the food, going until late in the night when drunken toasts are being shouted out left and right to celebrate everything from the big victories and accomplishments to the small and ridiculous things. 

“To those of us who’ve already got jobs lined up!” Renjun cheers, lifting his glass.

Several of the others glare, but you lift your glass to tap it against his. Haechan too, both of you with your office jobs lined up with the Neo Corporation. Haechan’s knuckles bump against the back of your hand as he joins you in the toast, and you glance his way. 

Haechan isn’t truly paying any attention to you, but rather he’s looking at Renjun.

Haechan’s eyes flash as he says, “I still don’t get how you got a full-time position with full benefits, Renjun. Getting promoted from an unpaid intern to having full benefits and everything at your company. You skipped right over being a part-timer. Sheesh,” Haechan whistles, knocks his drink back like it’s a shot, and then asks, “Whose cock did you have to suck for that?”

It’s just a phrase, but still, it holds a little ring of truth to Renjun’s situation. 

Renjun sits his glass down heavily onto the table. 

Not that Haechan could possibly know it, but that’s something Renjun has expressed concern to you about. That it’s Jaehyun that got Renjun his position. You know it can’t be true; Renjun deserves the job he’s got, and maybe Jaehyun helped fast-track the promotion, but Renjun certainly would have gotten himself there all on his own. 

You know that there’s no way that Haechan could know about that. None of your friends probably do. Most of them don’t even know that Renjun is bisexual. 

Renjun doesn’t take another drink from his glass or say another word. He simply leaves the table.

“Damn,” Haechan whistles, “I think I touched a nerve.” And then he looks at you, a smile beginning to form, and then he opens his mouth, ready to say something to you, too.

“Don’t even dare to suggest that I did something like sleeping my way into our company, Lee Donghyuck,” you warn him off before he can say anything like that.

He just smirks. “The full government name? What did I do wrong?” He steals Renjun’s abandoned drink and tosses it back without flinching. “And besides, angel, you know I don’t think you could do anything as naughty as fucking your way into a job. You’re too much of a good girl for that.”

Heat flares beneath your skin due both to anger – why is he so determined to think that you are the perfect picture of innocence? – and arousal in hearing him call you a good girl. The way that his voice curls around the words, softening them, turning them into a praise rather than just a tease. You cross your legs beneath the table. 

“I wouldn’t accuse you of something like that. I’m not dumb enough to piss you off when we’re about to be working together. And I know you’ve worked hard. You’re brilliant.” Haechan drapes his arm over the back of your seat, and it takes a lot of your willpower to not lean into his gravity. He smells like summer with a little hint of the spices he’d used to prepare dinner. It’s so tempting to lean in, to breathe the smell of him in, to have your nose tracing the path of moles on his throat, to let your tongue take over and taste his sweat….

Just like Renjun, you leave the table without another word. But yours is less to do with being upset, and everything to do with the way that you’re about to throw yourself at him. 

Haechan just laughs, and when you take a last glance over your shoulder at him, he’s already turned to a conversation with Shotaro.

You find Renjun upstairs in the group bedroom, or the overflow room where a variety of people who there weren’t enough bedrooms for had been sleeping all week. He’s sitting at the far end of the room on the pallet of blankets that you and he had claimed the first night. He’s on the phone, talking quietly with someone you can only assume is Jaehyun. 

Renjun only glances at you as you walk around to sit down on your blankets. You can make out the low timbre of Jaehyun’s voice on the other end of the line, and you quickly determine that Haechan’s little jab at Renjun had certainly touched a nerve as he’s now seeking reassurance from Jaehyun that he didn’t earn his job just because of the relationship that they have.

You find the answer when Renjun spits out, “What the fuck, Jaehyun?” 

He promptly ends the call, tossing his phone over into his suitcase. He cries, frustrated, angry, sad. And you sit up there with him and comfort him for a good long while until his irritation with Jaehyun — who had in fact fast-tracked Renjun’s promotion from intern to full-time employee — shifts back to being his irritation with Haechan. 

“Haechan can be such an asshole sometimes!” Renjun complains. “You know the other day when I left my phone down by the pool? I saw him looking through it before he returned it to me, like what a nosy asshole.”

“And what do you think he was looking at in your phone?” You rest your cheek on your hand, tilting your head to look at Renjun. 

Renjun shrugs. “My photos app is full of nudes and videos, so he probably saw some of that. That’s probably why he thinks I fucked my way out of being an intern.” He shakes his head. 

“I’m pretty sure he was about to make some comment about me too,” you say, “But I stopped him before he could.”

Renjun sits up quickly, staring down at you. “Are you fucking kidding? What the hell is his problem tonight? Accusing both you and I of sleeping our way into our jobs?” He scoffs and looks like he’s about to get up, to go hunt Haechan down. 

You take his hand, tugging to get him to stay down there on the floor with you. “He never actually said anything implying that I’m a slut. Actually, on the contrary, he told me again that he thinks I’m too innocent to do anything like that.” You roll your eyes a little bit. “I’m halfway convinced Haechan still thinks I’m a blushing virgin.”

“If he only knew.” Renjun slumps back down beside you. “I’ve never met anyone else who wanted to have sex in public as much as you.  No one else who would eagerly agree to fuck on video just so I can send it to my… my boyfriend?” His eyebrows furrow. “I don’t know if that’s what Jaehyun is or not. We haven’t called it anything officially. But if that’s not what we are, why would he give me such a good position at work? Like, he obviously wants me around, right? Fuck, Haechan has me questioning everything now. And I had to put a passcode on my phone because of him.”

You smile at him softly. “You probably should’ve done that a while ago if you have so much sensitive stuff in your phone.”

Renjun makes a face, but you know that he knows that you’re right. He sighs, “I’m just ready to go home. I’m tired of being crammed in this house with so many people, most of all him. He’s just right there beneath my skin, you know?”

You do and you don’t. As much as Haechan irritates you sometimes, you also can absolutely not deny that you still like Haechan. Quite a lot. And Renjun mentioning Haechan potentially looking through the camera roll doesn’t help the problem you were trying to escape from by coming up here. A low heat simmers in your belly as you think about gross voyeur Haechan scrolling through Renjun’s phone. 

“I’m getting my own place when we get home. With my salary, I’ll be able to afford a decent place.” Renjun stares up at the ceiling, his gaze distant, his thoughts probably miles away from where yours are. “Our lease on the house is up at the end of the month, and most of the rest of them already have their next place lined up. I was hesitating, hoping Jae would ask me to move in with him. Maybe I’ll see if Xiaojun still wants a roommate. But he lives next door to YangYang and Haechan. Do I really want to deal with them?”

As if YangYang isn’t Renjun’s best friend other than you? You know he would love to have him as a next door neighbor. Haechan too. Even though he’s on Renjun’s nerves right now, they generally do get along quite well. 

It’s already late, and when someone stumbles into the room a few minutes later, crashing and stumbling down onto the blankets at the other end of the room, your conversation with Renjun tapers off. It’s late, your flight back home is in the morning, and even if the others want to drink until you all leave for the airport, you’re going to sleep. 

Renjun follows your lead, getting undressed to fall asleep in the humidity of the room. 

You doze off, sleeping lightly. 

You hear every creak and groan of the house, each footstep climbing the stairs. Every flush of the toilet. The quiet conversations as people say goodnight and close themselves into their rooms. You hear a distant moaning and thumping of a headboard against a wall. You hear the room fill around you, snores and breathing and the ever-increasing heat as more of your friends pack into the room. 

The ceiling fan overhead doesn’t seem to do much at all, and even when you get up to crack the window in the hope of tempting in a breeze, it only helps slightly. But when you lie back down, you do manage to drop right back into sleep. You fall all the way down to a place where you can dream. 

And you do dream.

A sweet summer fantasy of relaxing on the sand of the beach just outside this house, entirely nude beneath the sun. There’s a soft pair of lips and a set of rough hands, a clever tongue flicking against your clit, quick fingers pressing inside you. Even in your dream you know it’s wrong to be doing this out in the open, but you love it so much, knowing that anyone could see how your partner is making you feel. 

You lift your head and look down your bare body to the head of the person settled between your legs. All you can see is his hair — dark and fluffy, curling in the humidity. And then he moves, tilting his head in just a way that you can at last see his eyes. 

“Haechan,” you sigh.

Your eyes open, heart pounding in the quiet of that room. The humid air clings to your skin even though all you’re wearing is your panties and a tshirt. You’ve already kicked your blanket off in your sleep, so what little air is circulating in the room moves over your bare skin, but it does very little to help anything, especially with the heat of a different sort simmering beneath your surface. 

And of course, nothing is helped by what you see as soon as you’ve opened your eyes. 

The man in your dreams is right in front of you. 

Haechan is stretched out on his back right beside you. And he’s awake, his gaze fixed first on your ass only to slowly trail back up to your face. 

And that’s when you realize that you’d spoken his name aloud. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, making some excuse about how YangYang had locked him out. 

You don’t care about what he’s saying. All you can think about is how you’d just been having a very nice dream about him, and now here he is. What are the odds? 

Haechan moves a little, and you realize that you can smell him — all sunscreen and spice, and much like earlier in the night, you have to fight that urge to smell him. It would be so easy right now to just roll closer to him, to snuggle into that spot between his shoulder and his neck, to excuse it in the morning as not having been fully awake. Maybe you’d been able to smell him in your sleep, and that’s why he’d taken up that role in your fantasy. 

Haechan finishes his excuse, and you just close your eyes again, and tell him, “Don't care. Just stop staring at my ass. I’m trying to sleep.” You hide your face in your pillow, hoping that he couldn’t tell that you were flushed in the face, hoping he won’t notice that you don’t fall back asleep because your heart is pounding and your body is craving to be touched. 

He doesn’t say another word, but after a moment of silence, he does suddenly fling his blanket off only for it to land over your feet. Even that much is too warm, plus it stirs up the scent of him that just riles you up even more. You feel like an animal, getting so turned on just by a smell, so you back away, scooting back towards Renjun to try to get a little distance from Haechan. You turn onto your side instead of the less comfortable position of lying on your belly, and as you do so, you accidentally bump into Renjun. 

He jolts, startled awake by the contact. You can tell he’s awake because he wraps an arm around your waist, he presses up against your back. He drops a kiss to the sensitive spot right behind your ear that’s exposed at this angle. 

You shiver against him, and without either of you acknowledging it, Renjun starts moving. 

You’ve mentioned this before, this idea of being touched in the room with all of your friends. A scenario similar to the first sexual encounter between you and Renjun. Even earlier this week, you’d mentioned something quite similar to this about messing around with each other in this room while your friends slept around you. 

You think that’s what Renjun is playing off of right now as he slides the hand resting on your waist down along the band of your panties. 

In front of you, Haechan’s face has relaxed, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep that quickly. Maybe the heat, instead of suffocating him, has lulled him into a comforting sleep. Part of you wishes it had worked that easily for you. 

You slowly slide down to lie on your back as Renjun moves too, lifting himself up on his side to look down at you. His fingers graze your clit, dipping a little lower and finding you already soaking wet with arousal, and an involuntary noise leaves your lips. Renjun grins, lifting his free hand up to his lips, signaling that you need to keep quiet, but with the other hand, he keeps touching you. Slowly he circles his fingers on your clit. You want more, need more, crave to be touched everywhere. 

And somewhere at the other end of the room, someone coughs in their sleep. 

Renjun freezes. 

He’d better not stop. He can’t stop. You’re too worked up at this point to not be allowed to cum, even if that means that you wake every single person in this room. 

But the room settles into quiet again, and Renjun’s fingers move on your clit again. A sigh spills from your lips. 

You bring your own hands up to your chest, slowly moving your hands up over your shirt which is already ridden up over your ribs, and you try to keep it covering your tits just a little to preserve a tiny bit of your modesty. Your nipples are hard, and you pinch them between your fingers, massaging your tits just the way you like as Renjun keeps touching you. And you know there are involuntary little sounds that keep escaping you, but they’re so quiet there’s no way that they’re loud enough for anyone else other than you and Renjun to really hear. 

Until Renjun decides to touch you deeper. His fingers dip down to your entrance, sliding inside you in a way that makes your breath catch, makes your legs fall apart to allow him better access. 

This time, Renjun clears his throat, just a small coughing sound, but it’s enough to draw your attention up to his face. He flicks his gaze over toward your other side. 

Your knee is touching Haechan’s leg. Renjun looks at it, looks back at you. But you don’t care, you just want Renjun to keep touching you. You shrug a little, and that’s enough for Renjun. 

As his fingers stroke your inner walls, your control really starts to slip. Whimpers, sighs, all these little noises that are going to get you caught. Which, really, is that the worst thing that could happen?

For Renjun, the answer might be yes. 

He covers your mouth with the hand that’s not busy at work between your thighs. You can’t help making sounds, you feel so good, and you’re really enjoying this situation and the possibilities. It’s your ideal exhibitionist scenario playing out in real time. 

Renjun holds your gaze, a silent command in his eyes for you to be a little more quiet. 

But then his fingers press right against that certain spot inside you, and this time you whimper his name, the sound muffled against the palm of his hand. 

A moment passes in which Renjun stops touching you, and then his hand moves as if he’s going to pull his hand away. Immediately you reach down, closing your hand around his wrist, keeping his fingers inside your panties. His threat is clear in that alone, but still Renjun whispers, “Quiet, beautiful.”

“Renjun, please,” you beg, trying your best to keep your voice quiet too. You move, rolling your hips up, trying to get Renjun to resume touching you. He looks into your eyes and you tell him, “Someone is going to hear.” And by that you mean: someone is going to hear, it’s inevitable, but you don’t care. He knows you get off on stuff like this, so why is he suddenly wanting you to be quiet and sneaky about it?

“Then be quiet. You said you wanted this,” his fingers stroke slowly over your clit. “Do you still? Or should I actually stop?”

His threat is clear. His rules are plain. 

Either you keep quiet while he fingers you in this room full of your friends, or he’s going to stop and leave you horny. He won’t finish giving you what you want. He doesn’t mind the threat of being discovered, but he doesn’t actually want to be discovered. The noisier you get, the higher the likelihood of you actually being caught. 

He slides a finger back down to your entrance, pressing it deep into your tight heat. It’s a test to see if you’ll keep quiet. 

Your thighs close, and you roll towards Renjun, rolling your hips to get him to move, hoping he’ll fuck you on his fingers until you’ve made a mess of your panties. He gives you a little, but he’s still holding back, so you clutch at his shirt, press your forehead to his chest, and you plead, “Keep going.”

Fuck.

You wish you were alone with him right now, and that alone is a rare enough feeling to be fucking around with Renjun and wishing that you were entirely alone and in private. You wish that he could properly fuck you right now and that you didn’t have to be quiet. You’re just desperate for it, and you can’t get what you really want here in this room of all of your friends. But this is something that you want too. It’s hot to be getting touched like this right now. 

Renjun just smiles and caresses your jaw, your throat, and he touches his fingers lightly just beneath your chin until your tip your head back just enough that it only takes a slight tilt of his face downward to kiss you. You moan softly from the smooth way he kisses you and the way that he finally really starts moving his fingers, fucking you with them.

You slide your legs apart, wanting him to get deeper, to touch you everywhere. You roll your body forward, riding his fingers as well as you can, and you can’t help the sounds you’re making. You know you’re being louder than you probably should, even though you’re actually being quite quiet as compared to normal. You can hear the rasp of the blankets beneath you as you’re moving your hips to meet each thrust of Renjun’s fingers. You can hear your wetness lubricating the way for Renjun, and it only serves to turn you on even more. Knowing that these noises are happening regardless of your attempts to muffle your moans and whimpers (unsuccessfully).

Renjun has three fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing circles at your clit. Your heart is beating everywhere all at once – in your throat, pounding in your chest, pulsing in your pussy, fluttering in your belly. You can feel it in your toes as they curl in the building heat tickling through your veins. Your hands clutch at Renjun’s shirt, and he smiles when he bends his fingers just-so, his thumb working tight circles against that sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

You gasp and whimper as you cum. You bite at Renjun’s shoulder, pulling him closer even as you try to push him away to get his hand away from where you’re quickly growing sensitive as you soak your panties. You ride it out, still feeling your heart beating in every part of you as you do pull yourself away from Renjun, flopping onto your back to stare up at that ceiling fan revolving slowly overhead. 

You’re sweating. 

You feel sticky and gross, and you’ve only got a moment to rejoice in the slight respite of the air stirred up by the fan. Then Renjun is there stretching over top of you.

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. 

And Renjun is the one all over you right now, but you’re only thinking of Haechan. Thinking of his “good girl” from earlier tonight, wishing it was his voice that was whispering that in your ear, that it was his fingers inside your panties, his body too hot against yours in this already too stuffy room. Which, you do still have that one burning hot point of contact with Haechan where your knee rests against his. 

It’s not enough. 

Your body craves more of that. 

But instead you have Renjun. He’s a cuddler, that’s one thing you’ve learned since this started, and you usually don’t mind. But tonight is too hot.

“Fuck off,” you whine, squirming in a half-assed effort to dislodge him. It’s too hot, but you’ve also completely run out of the energy to actually get him to move. Renjun just lies there halfway on top of you, his arm stretched out on your other side. You wonder if he’s going to tell Jaehyun all about what you and he have done on this trip. You haven’t filmed any of your encounters on this trip, and after his argument over the phone with Jaehyun earlier, you wonder if it even matters. 

Haechan suddenly switches sleeping positions, breaking that singular point of contact, and he rolls over in his sleep so his back is to you. He twitches and shivers a little, which seems like it should be impossible given the heat, but after a moment, he relaxes again. He’s shirtless, and in the faint light coming in through the cracked open window, you can see that he’s sweating too. Beads of sweat glisten along his arm and the length of his spine. 

You smile a little to yourself as you look at his sleeping figure.

He’s so blissfully unaware that you and Renjun just did this right beside him. You could almost laugh. Would he have watched you two if he’d known? Would he have sat there like he’d done with Shotaro and his girlfriend, watching and getting off?

You fall asleep thinking about that, and in the morning you find yourself looking over at him as you wake. He’s still asleep, now flat on his back again. He looks so peaceful in sleep, his hand resting low on his belly right above the band of his black boxer-briefs. Perhaps you stare a moment too long, but as soon as you feel Renjun stirring behind you, you look away. You get up and leave the room, deciding you definitely need a cool shower before you finish packing up to head to the airport for home. 

Life settles into a boring routine once you return from Thailand. Half of your friends move away, the other half is almost always so busy working now that you hardly see each any of your friends.

Except Haechan.

With both of you working at the Neo Corporation, you see him every single day. Plus, YangYang is the only one of your friends still in the city who isn’t pursuing a proper professional lifestyle, so he made an open invitation for any of your friends to come over pretty much at any time. You take him up on that offer pretty often, honestly, but considering that he’s Haechan’s roommate, you still see a significant amount of Haechan.

Not that you’re complaining. 

You still have a dumb fucking crush on him even though you know that it’s probably just time for you to completely let it go and move on. It’s been almost five years that you’ve known Haechan, and the relationship between you has never developed beyond friendship, so maybe it’s just time that you give up.

But that history is part of the reason it’s so difficult to just move on. 

It also doesn’t help that you’re quite horny like all the time, so seeing the object of many of your fantasies all the time has put you in a rough spot. 

After your return from Thailand, Renjun and Jaehyun made up for their little fight, and they created new rules and boundaries, which meant cutting you out of the relationship altogether. You understand, of course. It was really just sex after all. You didn’t have feelings for Renjun, and you don’t want to ruin his happiness with Jaehyun. Renjun gets his own place, though Jaehyun’s over there so often that it might as well be their place. Renjun is swept up in his official relationship and his professional job, so you see less of him than you would like.

Xiaojun gets an apartment right next door to Haechan and YangYang, meaning that it should have been more convenient to get to see him too, and when you receive the invitation to his housewarming party you consider the possibility of rekindling your friends with benefits relationship with him. But at the party you learn that he’s got a new girl he’s seeing, and that it’s only been a few dates but he really likes her. 

So, instead of spending that time with your friends (except Haechan), you start spending time with your seniors at the Neo Corporation. Many of your coworkers there are men, though there are a few women too, but for the most part it’s a male-dominated company, though Mr. Johnny Suh had reassured you that as his company grows and he has a larger applicant pool to pull from, he is hoping to bridge that gender gap. For the moment, you don’t mind too much. With less women in the company, it means when you search for private company among your coworkers, there’s less competition.

You select Jungwoo, a nice guy. Funny and carefree. He’s fun for a little while, a couple hook ups in those first few weeks, but soon you both agree that you’re not truly compatible in the long run. Plus he claims that you seem distracted, like you want something else or someone else. Which is bullshit because you’re using Jungwoo to try to forget about Haechan. 

Next, you hook up with Yuta – he’s one of the biggest gossips in the company – after a night out having celebratory drinks. It’s just a one-time thing because you realize that the two of you are better off as coworkers or friends. 

No one else really catches your eye. You sometimes hang out with Yuta, WinWin, and Ten on your lunch breaks, which is when you learn all the gossip. Particularly everyone’s favorite rumor (or favorite bet) about if Johnny is in fact secretly hooking up with his secretary.

She’s gorgeous, of course, so you can understand why all the guys who have been rejected by her wonder if she’s sleeping with their boss. It’s surely some way of them coping with the rejection. But she is also really close with Johnny, so you can sort of see why they might assume she’s sleeping with him. You consider yourself a pretty decent judge of character and reader of body language, so you can tell by the way Johnny's secretary and him interact that there’s not anything going on between them.

Romance is surprisingly a hot topic of gossip among your coworkers. But you try not to pay too much attention to it all. 

Not until the company retreat in October, a little over five months after you started at the Neo Corporation. 

On the way there, you’d been squeezed into the back of one of the transit vans that Mr. Suh had rented. One of the women was sitting beside you, and on the drive she’d chattered to you about everything that she could think of. That included, at one point, her discussing with you her ranking of your male coworkers, which was all fun and games until she reached Haechan.

“A ten. For sure. He just seems like he’d be a fun time, you know?” She says, twirling her hair around her finger as she stares at the back of Haechan’s head a couple rows up from you. “I can’t even lie that it’s kinda my goal to get him during this weekend. I want the full, fun experience of a retreat.” 

The woman on your other side giggles at that, but you just sink into a funk. 

You haven’t known anyone Haechan’s hooked up with since probably Halloween, which has been nearly a year ago. You don’t want to know that he’s having sex with anyone honestly. And as the two women continue laughing together about it for the next several miles of the trip, whispering about it while you sit there stuck between them, you just want to melt into your seat.

Instead, you decide to drink yourself numb as soon as you arrive at the retreat. Just in case you somehow play witness to your coworker’s seduction of Haechan, maybe you won’t remember it in the morning. Luckily, your first night of the retreat consists of everyone getting drunk together, so it’s not like your actions totally stand out. It’s actually just meant to be everyone drinking together, not necessarily getting drunk. 

You, Johnny, and the secretary are probably the three worst drinkers in attendance.

You only have vague recollections of that night. You remember blurrily Haechan coming over to you, stopping you from drinking any more. You remember seeing the other woman watching you with jealousy in her eyes while Haechan talked to you, as he pushed a bottle of water into your hands.

You remember sitting there, looking into his eyes and wondering if maybe you should just confess everything to him. But even with as much alcohol as you’d consumed, it wasn’t enough to loosen your lips and let everything flow out. 

You remember him asking to walk you back to your tent, and how your mind had immediately shot to the only possibility that your forever-attracted-to-him brain could think of in delight, while the rational part of your brain was shouting that you couldn’t have sex with Haechan when you were drunk. Of course, that’s not what he was trying to say. He was just trying to be a gentleman and walk you back to your tent since you were staggeringly drunk.

You vaguely recall him calling you angel, him putting his arms around you to help you walk. You barely remember the walk there, only the cool material of your sleeping bag against your bare legs as you crawl in, as you flop down and twist around to look at Haechan. You remember wanting him to stay, but also wanting him to leave because you don’t want him seeing you like this. And then everything fades away completely.

But then you’re awake and it’s not yet morning.

The tent is dark with only the shadows of branches stretching across the canvas ceiling. Bugs chirp and buzz outside the tent flap. Something woke you, though you’re not sure what exactly. You consider rolling back over and falling asleep, but that’s when you realize that the spot beside you in the tent is empty. The spot where Mr. Suh's secretary was meant to be sleeping tonight. 

There’s no way that you’re sober enough to be getting up and wandering around the retreat site in the dark, but you’re also not sober enough to realize how that might be a bad option. So you get up, you pull on a hoodie and slip on your shoes, and you step out into the dark morning. 

The grass is damp with dew. The stars are visible overhead. All of your coworkers are asleep in their tents, but the lights are on back up at the guesthouse where the bathrooms and the kitchenette are, and you realize maybe she’s just gone to pee. You can’t blame her for that; as a matter of fact, you could probably use the toilet too. So you make your way in that direction, but before you can quite reach it you notice something odd.

Through the uncovered window, you can see Miss Secretary straddling Mr. Suh's lap while they make out.

Damn, Yuta was right about them, is all you can think as you watch her running her fingers through Mr. Suh's hair, rubbing herself in his lap.

Then something else shifts in the darkness.

A shadowy figure shifts in front of the scene, standing outside one of the windows in the bushes. 

And in the next instant you realize that the shadowy figure is none other than Haechan. And he’s definitely jerking off. You can see his arm moving.

You’re sure he thinks no one could possibly be watching him. But you are. The watcher is being watched, and you can feel yourself growing a little warm and wet from the sight of Haechan highlighted by the glow from the window. 

You can’t properly see him from this angle, can’t see the way that his fingers wrap around his cock, but you can definitely tell what he’s doing. The way he strokes himself to the sight of them in front of him. God, he’s gross, but you love it. Heat pools between your legs, watching him like this.

You don’t even notice that Johnny and the secretary have left the scene until you notice Haechan shuddering, a quiet moan breaking the otherwise silent night. You can just barely see in the light that comes through the window, the way that there is a splatter of cum on the window. 

Damn. You feel warm, craving to be touched. 

You don’t hang around and wait for Haechan to find you, you flee back to your tent. The other woman you’re sharing your tent with is passed out completely. She hadn’t been drinking tonight, but she had taken a sleeping pill, so she is well and truly out when you slide back into your sleeping bag, when you wiggle around to get your hand inside your panties, when you plunge your fingers inside yourself, thumb swirling against your clit as you imagine a scenario where you were there in those bushes with Haechan, him fucking you while you watched the beautiful secretary ride Johnny at the table. 

You cum quietly without the other woman in the tent even stirring. And a few minutes later, as your racing heart settles, the secretary quietly returns to the tent, smelling like a masculine body wash as she tucks herself back into the sleeping bag beside yours. 

You level your breath, hold still, and soon you fall back asleep again, and in the morning you’ve pretty much forgotten everything from the night before, including the encounter between the boss and the secretary, as well as you witnessing Haechan succumbing to his perversion.

You essentially forget all about it until a few weeks later when Ten excitedly tells you and Haechan that he swears he almost walked in on Johnny and the secretary in the break room. But it just sounds like they were both standing in there when he walked in, though that little tidbit is enough to jumpstart your memory and that early morning comes back to you.

It’s a few days later when the topic returns while you’re out for dinner and drinks with several of your coworkers.

Ten is once again excitedly talking about Johnny and his secretary, insistently asking everyone else, “Don’t you think something is going on?” and “I know we don’t have proof, but I really think….” He doesn’t have to finish the sentence for everyone at your table to know he means that he’s pretty sure they’re fucking.

You look over at Haechan. 

He has proof. So do you. You’ve both witnessed it with your own eyes, although you’ve not mentioned it to him since you remembered it a few days ago. That’s in part because you don’t know how to bring it up to him without admitting that you also saw him jerking off while watching them. 

Haechan looks at you. A knowing look as if he could possibly know what you’re thinking about right now.

He doesn’t admit to anything then, not in front of your coworkers, and it makes you wonder why he’s keeping the secret to himself. He didn’t hide the secret of Shotaro and his girlfriend hooking up before outing them at that camping trip your friends had taken about a year ago. You’re curious about why he’s hiding it, and you’re curious about what his knowing look had meant.

There’s no way that he knows that you also know.

Later that night as you all start to head home from the pub, you head in the opposite direction from where everyone else seems to have parked. You’re headed for the bus stop since your roommate has borrowed your car for the night. 

You don't make it far from the door before someone calls out behind you.

“Can I walk with you?” He asks, jogging a little to catch up with you. “Don’t look at me like that. I just want to make sure you get there safely.”

You immediately wipe away your expression of surprise at his offer. “Yeah, you can walk with me. Thank you, Haechan.”

He just nods, and for a minute the two of you walk in companionable silence. But then you ask, “Well, what do you think? Think they’re fucking?”

That seems to catch him off-guard. A startled laugh tears out of him. “Yeah, they absolutely are.”

Is he going to elaborate on that?

You bump your shoulder against his, hoping if you just make all of this seem like friendly inquiry based off of that earlier conversation that he’ll be more likely to open up. For some reason you really want to hear him say it. You want to finally hear Haechan admit to you that he’s a perverted voyeur who has watched your friends and now your boss while they have sex. “You sound so certain, Haechan. Why?”

“I have my reasons.” He shrugs a little, his lips tilting up on the one side in a smirk. 

God. You want to kiss him.

You want him, and the combination of the cool air and the alcohol warm in your veins leads you to pull yourself closer to him. You wrap your hands around his arm, snuggling up against him, and you catch a whiff of that warm summery scent of him like spice, citrus, and something else distinctly Haechan. He doesn’t flinch or say a single thing as you basically hug his arm. As a matter of fact, his fingers flex a little, stretching out minimally to brush against your hip before he closes his fingers in a fist.

You wish he wouldn’t keep this a secret. Maybe if he would just admit to you how he knows, if he confessed to you the truth of his reasons, maybe you would tell him too that he might be a voyeur but you’re an exhibitionist, and something about those two truths could work out between you.

But he doesn’t say that. He actually falls silent as you come to stand beside the bus stop. There are others waiting there too, but your eyes are only on Haechan. 

You pretend not to notice when he finally looks over at you. You pretend not to see the way that he’s studying you. You pretend that you don’t notice when Haechan inhales a little sharply, turning his face away to look across the street. He just keeps silent, keeps still as he seems to stare at nothing, deep in thought.

You decide to speak since he won’t.

“I feel like you see a lot of things that other people don’t, Haechan. I think you keep a lot of secrets.” Again, you feel his hand flex, and this time when his fingers stretch out, they rest against your hip and don’t pull away. You’re not even sure he’s aware of it. You continue, “You can share secrets sometimes. I have secrets too. We could trade.”

You want him to know that even though he’s a pervert, you’re a bit of a pervert too. 

You lean your head to rest it on his shoulder, and he looks at you again. Your eyes meet. 

“Can’t you just share the secret of how you know with absolute certainty that Johnny and his secretary are fucking?” Your fingernails dig into his jacket sleeve, a whine in your voice as you gaze at Haechan’s face. You notice the way his throat bobs as he stares down at you. 

“I don’t think you want to know my secrets,” he says, looking away from you. His voice shakes a little bit, and you wonder if he’s truly that nervous about you learning about his creepy habit. You swear you can hear his heart pounding beneath the ear that you have against his shoulder. “You wouldn’t look at me the same.”

The sound that comes out of you then is not a nice one. A snort of laughter. But you’re amused. He must think you’d think of him as some gross weirdo, but it’s really quite the opposite. Ever since that first night you caught him watching Shotaro and his girlfriend in the hot tub, you’ve actually found it surprisingly hot to think of him being a voyeur. 

“I don’t know about that, Haechan. Maybe I have secrets that would make you look at me differently.” You tilt your face so you can better see his. He looks down at you with such a look of doubt, that it almost pulls another laugh from you. He really doesn’t believe that you could ever do anything naughty. “Maybe I could tell you a thing or two that would make you finally see me as less than a perfect angel,” you say, and you put a tiny bit of challenge into your voice.

Haechan straightens up. His fingers withdraw from where he’s been absentmindedly touching that little sliver of skin bared between your shirt and the waistband of your pants. Haechan shrugs until you’re dislodged from his shoulder, but he’s relaxed as he stands there beside you and says, “Alright. Not tonight, though. Let’s keep our secrets just a little while longer.”

The squeal of brakes alerts you to your bus pulling up.

Before you walk away, you want to hear him promise you that he’s not just saying this tonight, that it will actually happen. 

“Promise?” You hold your pinky finger up to him, daring him to make the promise. 

Haechan hesitates for half a second, but then his pinky loops around yours, squeezing tight. “I promise, angel. We’ll trade secrets and truths someday soon.”

Your heart lights up with Haechan’s promise. A trade of secrets someday soon. That’s good enough for you. Before you can think about it too much, you smack a kiss to the back of Haechan’s hand, and then you walk away quickly.

Unable to resist, you turn to look at him over your shoulder. Haechan is still standing there, looking after you with an amused and bemused expression. You smile and watch the way his smile rises as well.

“Text me when you make it home!” He shouts behind you as you climb aboard the bus. You wave in acknowledgement.

You feel giddy, excited. You’d think it’s a date you’ve just planned given how excited you are, but really it’s just going to be a trade of secrets at an undisclosed date. A trade of secrets, a trade of truths. 

As you sit down, you look out the window one more time.

Haechan is still standing there, looking right at you. You don’t know what that look on his face means. But he smiles a little, offering you a small wave that you return, and before your bus can even pull away, he turns on his heel and walks away back up the street.

previous chapter || next chapter  (Coming Soon)

a/n: part of this was of course inspired by a scene in workplace (mis)conduct the johnny and y/n workplace romance kinktober drabble

And I know that it seems like there's a whole lot more Renjun action in this fic than Haechan, but I promise !!!! there's a lot more of the good Haechan stuff that this story is meant to have coming soon! Like... next chapter? maybe? You'll have to keep reading to see!

[horanghoe]

until it hurts a little less - part 2.I

MAIN MASTERLIST /// TXT MASTERLIST /// IMAGE MASTERPOST UIHALL [FIRST IN SERIES] /// [UIHALL - PART 2.II CONTINUED]

group: TXT

pairing: Yeonbin (Yeonjun & Soobin) x Reader (Fem perspective)

genre: hybrid, angst, fluff, heavy smut, minors dni !!

word count: 39k / split into 2 posts

T/W’s : under the line

A HUGE THANK YOU TO MY FRIENDS & BETA READERS ~ Saffron & @pyeonghongrie & all of MTG and especially the furry babes: @slightlymore @raibebe @starlitmark @wooahaeproductions [extra credit for the above mb!! tysm beeeeeee] @atiny-piratequeen <3 & anyone else I have tortured with brain rot and updates

AUTHORS NOTES - Wow. Thank you everyone for your patience. This has been many many months of chipping away at a small idea to make it into a now infamous [among friend circles] 40k hybrid fic. This draft has gone through a breakup, different jobs, and different living scenarios, phew! Following from the kitty Beomgyu saga the series now dives into new and hot Yeonbin dynamics. I look forward to feedback & interest in a small cuddle pile epilogue and editing of old works to bring them up to date. Lots of love, Wren 🦝💗

Music to listen to while reading ♡ (in no particular order)

My Oh My - Camilla Cabello FT. DaBaby

Stuck In The Middle With You - Stealers Wheel

Beast Of Burden - The Rolling Stones

Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin

I Want You to Want Me - Cheap Trick

No Strings Attached (Enemies to Lovers) - Backseat Vagabond

Feel free to suggest others! :>

Trigger warnings ♡

voyeurism [aka sex in a public place], intimate scenes in an open late-night diner, a third watches with consent and an invite but is named perversive for comedic effect, submissive reader, female POV reader, AFAB reader, female pronouns & genitalia descriptives, occasional degrading words/actions with active consent, height kink, size kink, slight dacryphilia scene, crying [out of the context of sex], mention of unfulfilling ex-partners, sex in the rain(?), mention of blood, sub-mode or trusting others to make decisions after sex [safe, loving, no fear here but do need to warn], choking [mild, not to the point of harm].

hybrid content such as scenting marking and knotting; themes of possessiveness and alllll the animalistic features from that.

All of the above are willing and consenting for every party present (apart from Bangchan/diner staff). If you cannot stomach voyeurism, skip about halfway and you can still enjoy the last half of the fiction. :]

Yeonjun sat opposite you, at the most unfortunate angle.

He had just dived forward and sprawled himself across the round diner table; a half-chugged milkshake gripped in his hands and a barely-smoked cigarette sat burning between his forefingers. His eyes were pinched in curiosity, and the mischief hanging onto his aura was unmistakable.

He was in the process of poking at you until you squirmed. 

Like he always did, whenever the two of you were alone. It's what he did best. 

Only, the repercussions were different here. And you were very much, not alone.

"So, have the two of you fucked?" Yeonjun asked abruptly; mute in tone but with a foxish grin peeling his lips wide as if dinner had just been served steaming hot and inches away from his face.

The break in silence made Soobin, the large black-haired Doberman Pinscher, groan loudly. He rolled his head and eyes back against the high diner seats that encompassed the three of you. 

He was about to tell his friend to mind his own fucking business, but you beat him to it.

You scoffed, your skin hot, and your heart missed a beat as it pumped in your chest. 

"Fuck off, fox."

His reaction to your pushback was slow. 

The fox's eyes blinked, and his cheek twitched. Before finally, Yeonjun’s lip quirked; and the canines on his left side were on full display. 

With a wink, he pulled his body back from the sprawled-out position facing you on the table; sipping on the straw of his milkshake as he went.

"So you have. And you liked it, by the sound of things. Hmm. That's good to know. Explains why you’re sat here still stinking like a very sickly pussy cat."

Soobin kissed his teeth and thumped his thin solid black tail against the seat.

"Why don’t you ask Gyu, instead of the girl, June? And, if that is the case; I’m not even sure why you would be asking anyway. You would owe me a large fucking bet, foxy bingo." 

Yeonjun made an exasperated sound, turning to the taller more agitated friend on his right side.

“Yeah right! The guy would maul me. Those cat bites are gnarly. And I don’t owe you shit!”

An accusing finger - well, two, holding a cigarette - stuck out in the gap between the two men.

“So what makes you think it’s okay to interrogate Y/N?” Soobin growled in a steady low tone. His jaw had grit and his sharp ears had pulled back; sharp cheeks pulled taught.

Soobin's growl cut the air and your skin grew warm. 

You darted your eyes downward to pick at the peeling varnish on your nails while the boys glared at each other. You didn’t want to be the subject of tension, this is exactly what you had wanted to avoid.

After a tense pause; Yeonjun finally let up. He kissed his teeth and rolled his eyes to slouch back against the seat; ears tilted in submission. He looked much like a teenager with that pout and sass. A crack in his serious facade.

Another win for Soobin.

“Look,” Yeonjun started. He reached his arms across the table, tapping as he went to get your attention. You looked up. “We all know you guys have been very fucking exclusive lately, not to mention you never leave the damn house anymore outside of work -” 

“Dude - shut up!” Soobin punched his friend's leg. 

“Not cool!” The fox yelped, elbowing him back. But it didn’t seem to deter him at all. His sharp eyes quickly returned to you. 

Yeonjun sipped on his milkshake with a shit-eating grin, before looking between the two of you and judging whether he could keep poking at the subject.  

“What?! I’m sorry okay, it’s the talk of the town, and I have to know about it.” 

Soobin curled his lip, unamused. Yeonjun was digging himself a hole.

“What? Am I not going to try and get the goss straight from the business babe's mouth?” 

“How about you tell us - in fine detail - about your current love excursion, instead? Go on Jun, we’d love to hear all about her leaving your ass on read. And the cheating. Cheating, on you, of all people! Twice!! And you never even made it official!”

You knew of the girl Soobin hinted. 

It was meant to be nothing but a summer night fling, but poor Junnie’s feelings got caught up in the mix. The one fatal flaw in networking, and the cardinal sin when being a player kingpin; was the chance of falling in love. 

He had come to you for advice a while ago about it. But some things just eventually kill themselves, and you just have to revel in the open closure; never to see that person again, never to get the final word. 

You had no doubt the mention pained the fox, by the expression on his face.

“That is - She is entirely beside the point! And, unrelated to the topic!” Yeonjun yipped, pulling back his ears before they perked back up to shift between you desperately. “Plus, I’m not exactly wrong; Y/N never wants to hang out with anyone anymore -”

“We have fucked.” You offered with a shrug. You remained staring at your fingers; but felt their ears pin-point on a swivel towards you. “A few times, yeah.”

You offered up the information to distract from the potentially genuine heartbreak Yeonjun could be feeling mid-gathering. But your voice shrunk as quickly as your confidence did. If you did have hybrid ears; they would have peeled backwards against your head by now. 

“But we aren’t exclusive. We are… a thing, maybe more so emotionally, but we’re not, like -” You struggled to find the words that didn’t insinuate what it had become; friends with benefits. You hated the judgement, and so settled on; “- out, as a unit. Publicly. Like, at work. Or anywhere where family is concerned. We don’t vibe like that.”

The tall hound that sat opposite you carefully assessed you as you spoke. 

Both his nose and his ears twitched as they picked up on your pulse that had started to race very suddenly; air caught tight in your lungs. 

He could smell your anxiety, and endeavoured to counter it, quickly.

“Like I said in the text, I like being with you guys, and Gyu’s cool with that. He assures me I can make decisions for myself now, for the most part, I just -” 

You puffed a huge intake of breath, darting your eyes between them before reaching to pick at the table edge instead, spilling out an explanation so rapid and tight in tone that Yeonjun almost missed the first half of it.

“I find it hard to meet people nowadays - new or old. Socialising in groups has become really tricky for me. Humans are hard work, and I just don’t get Hybrids - like, they’re so unpredictable, and then, non-prey types make me even more anxious… I just - I don’t - even know how to even begin to talk to people anymore, let alone ask for help - but I thought you guys might… Get it, you know? Like, Gyu is mostly indifferent, he doesn’t understand what I’m saying - but you guys are higher, more educated and responsive, or at least on the same level as me, so I just thought - I just - I thought that maybe -”

You flushed hot in the attempt to tie up the loose-ended speech. But you didn’t need to; as Soobin’s ears folded with a sympathetic huff and he threw a sharp glare at Yeonjun, before reaching to squeeze your hands in his. He wasn’t going to let you suffer alone.

“It’s alright, Y/N. Yeonjun’s just being a nosey fucking fox. Don’t ever feel like you have to over-explain anything, ever again.” 

He turned his head to slowly growl at his companion. Lip curled over one large blunt-pointed tooth. 

“Especially to people who don’t properly read their text messages.”

There was a beat of silence. Yeonjun was pleased he got an answer to the rumours, but visibly softer and feeling a little put out after hearing your reactions. And getting - literally - hounded in the process. 

Eyes wide and ears high at a point, he didn’t poke the mood, instead, he chose to push forward. Wise of him.

“Ahh - I’m sorry Y/N,” He offered, a little confused. Shy; timid even. 

He peeked between the two of you, clearly not clued into what was going on like he thought he was. His ears were so expressive; you were convinced you could see his emotions with those alone. Like right now; you could tell he was unsure what to say.

“I’m - Can I read the text again, doll?” 

You nodded at him to go ahead, knowing full well that he never read it in the first place.

Soobin however; wasn’t in the least bit shocked or ‘put out’ by your words. Out of everyone, other than Beomgyu, Soobin was the one you had spent the most time with in the friendship group over the past two years. He knew all of what you were saying to be the truth. 

Hence him driving you here. 

Hence your honest and open conversation in the safety of the car. 

Covered in his scent. Quiet, safe, and otherwise alone. 

Hence why this meet-up had created an opening to a further bond that created an attraction so strong you had almost hooked up in Soobin’s driver seat just under an hour ago in the underground parking lot. 

Hence his plush leather seats being coated in the smell of slick, and why he had even invited Yeonjun to tag along - like you had suggested - in the first place. He had entertained the idea of his friend joining for the good aspects of his personality, and because you wanted him there; but he was apprehensive enough of the bad sides of his friend to be protective of you.

The fox was, often, surprisingly fast-witted. But in this instance, he had been very slow. 

Yeonjun clicked away his phone with a small “Ah…” and folded his ears backwards. Coy, but curious. “I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t read it properly...”

You nodded, picking at the paint remaining on your nails. Tense, but happy that his reaction to your proposal wasn’t exactly bad. You weren’t sure what it was, yet.

“Umm, anyways, in other news -” 

Soobin rolled his eyes… again. Delighted to hear what the fox would come up with next.

“- newly Hybrid, hey sugar? Bet that’s been hard to get used to. Gyu said your test came back as a Deer. Your scent tells me that’s true, but I don’t see any ears. No tail? Antlers, even? It’s a little… odd to get used to - never met someone with your condition before.”

You blinked. 

Sometimes; you forget that the whole saga had ever happened. That you had even inherited those traits (by force), in the first place. Then it was mentioned, or you read of similar incidents in the news, and a whole slew of memories reappeared in your mind's eye. 

After the night you and Beomgyu had hooked up; things had begun to change. You had started to become attached. You learned more about his past. What dark alleys he disappeared down. His deepest darkest fears. You fell in love. 

Then you went to an office party, and everything got so violently fucked up. 

Someone at the party had spiked your drink. With an extremely dangerous and underground drug that caused a human's recessive hybrid genes to splice and come to life; or, where no recession was present, you would be forced to die a very fast and excruciating death, bursting from the inside out.

There were no treatments for it. Instead, a private donor who had a supposed ‘interest’ in the drug, paid for your experimental treatment. The whole thing was strange and dramatic like a big-shot movie, but you were just glad it was over.

Altogether; it was a dangerous dice throw of genetics, that you had very luckily survived.

It took weeks of recovery, and a handful more months of emotional care for you to re-enter the world. With a new slither of morality splitting apart your soul. There existed inside of you; the heart and mind of a Doe, where once a human had full control.

Naturally; the genetic switch caused you to gain a Deer’s characteristics. 

You became more reserved; quick to flight, instead of fight. You began to shake, and freeze in fear; where you once had the option to move, be uncaring and in control of your body. You had become sensitive to predators - in every sense, but more vitally hybrids. Your diet changed drastically and your hearing and sense of touch hiked up tenfold. 

And what Yeonjun said made sense; it was odd to have no extra limbs. You understood why it confused the hybrids around you. Deer’s being somewhat rare, and your condition more so; the medical professionals were unable to explain whether you would get any animal characteristics or not. You were grateful for not yet at least growing a replacement pair of ears. It would have been too much to adjust to. 

You also couldn’t get pregnant that easily anymore. Not that that proved any challenge; you were a human before, and a different animal type now, so sleeping with Beomgyu was a null threat - Humans and Hybrids can't create offspring, and Hybrids abide by the same genealogy rule that animals do - that’s to say a cat can’t reproduce with a deer, and so on.

And honestly, thank Goodness for that; as a child with Beomgyu sounded like hell.

Your relationship stayed much the same. The switch to becoming a Hybrid created natural barriers, and if not for your occasional retching at any fish placed on Beomgyu’s dining plate, you could co-exist peacefully. But the intimacy was no longer there. And your emotions proved far too complex for a moody cat-boy to understand. He wasn’t high enough on the food chain to guide you; nor low enough to be bullied. 

You were simply on two separate paths. He was nice to have around, and he held a special place in your heart, but… some people are not meant to be in long-term relationships. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out.

These boys, however; were natural threats to you.

And they acted like it. Their sudden unrestricted movements scared you. Their ability to keep their emotions and body language in check kept you constantly on edge and vigilant. 

Not to mention the change in your relationship with Soobin. He had struggled to keep his teeth inside his gums whenever near you; instead of around your throat, where they instinctively should have been, the moment you strolled out of the cat-boy’s room, that first day he visited you at the apartment, after the initial hospital stay. 

He remembered seeing you so weak and pale; reaching for him with a new vulnerability. He remembered how badly you suffered and wanted nothing more than to take you home with him.

Yeonjun however, became distant after the accident. And although it was not unlike him to disappear for weeks at a time; it was obvious that he felt you shouldn’t interact until you had spent a ton of time inside of this new body of yours.

But you’d be outright lying if you said you didn’t love the thrill of fear in the space of people you trusted.

“Y/N?” You heard Soobin prompt. Ears low. Voice soft. He sounded pained. Yeonjun watched with empathy written all over his face.

“Yeah, sorry…” You must have zoned out, you realised and shook your brain back into place. “I don’t - have any of that. It’s been hard. Gyu’s really helped me re-integrate, and everything. Soob too. But - sometimes, it’s just -”

“Overwhelming?” Yeonjun offered. Voice calm, and light. He tilted his head sympathetically. “Scary? Noisy? Uncomfortable?”

“Yeah,” You scoffed, chin tucked. “All of that. And - so much more.”

Yeonjun wasn’t sure what to say. And you were in no position to start talking.

“Curiosity killed the cat, dickhead.” Soobin growled and broke the awkward pause by tugging Yeonjun's well-groomed black and orange tail from out beneath his larger leg in annoyance, a little harsher than needed, before looking out beyond the chair with a huff and folded ears. “So much for a low-key re-introduction.”

“Well then thank fuck I’m not a cat!” Yeonjun yowled at Soobin and yanked his tail back, small chirping noises sounding from his throat as he went along. That looked like it hurt. But he soon settled.

You jumped at the hand that landed over your own, following the arm to the fox, who had shuffled around the seats in a cute and juvenile fashion; smile kinder than before, and seemingly aware of what he had done wrong. Yeonjun’s ears went completely flat against his slicked-back hair - a sign of temperance and apology - and he was almost purring, jittering a high-pitched noise quietly.

Soobin watched with a warning growl only the other hybrid could hear; stiff to how you would respond to Yeonjun moving so quickly into your personal space. 

But surprisingly, you were okay. Given how things had gone with Soobin earlier, he reasoned, you must have started to feel a little more comfortable about how your proposition would be received.

“I’m sorry, pretty Doe. I seriously didn’t realise.” Yeonjun said in a hushed tone.

This was all a little too late in Soobin's' opinion, but it was better late than nothing. 

The fox watched your expressions carefully as he followed your face, hiding from him by tucking your chin. His hand squeezed over yours, pulling you to stop picking at the table. His thumb brushed over your knuckles before releasing your hand, letting you retreat. 

“I thought we were here for a smoke, a drink… Some small talk? Not real - or,” He tutted, correcting himself, “Not that - kind of intense stuff. I’m sorry angel. That’s on me for being a shit reader.” 

You snuck a glance. His expression was patient and genuine. His ears were still folded. And you wanted to forgive him, despite your gut telling you it may not be the smartest move. 

By nature, Yeonjun was sneaky and funny. But also cripplingly charming, and a perfect smooth talker ever since the first time you had met him. He was constantly smoking. Weed, vapes, cigarettes. Whatever he could get his hands on or was left nearby. One could call it an oral fixation of some kind.

Unlike the clean-but-very-much-into-rock-metal Soobin, Yeonjun was a typical bad-boy character, and his sway with people could be felt in any venue the guys would go. You didn’t hold it against him. You knew via second-hand stories and brief interactions that he really was a nice guy. But people had trouble believing it.

In the words of Soobin; “If you want him to come and agree to this, you’ll just have to trust that he’s in a good mood tonight, and see how it goes. If he’s a cock, we leave. Or if he’s feeling nice, I’m betting on you not wanting him to leave. One thing he won’t do is continue when you tell him to stop. So just tell him, if he’s too much. Last thing he wants to do is upset a pretty girl. I’ll be by your side the whole night.” 

And that summed him up, pretty damn well.

“It’s okay.” You smiled. His ears picked up gradually, eager to lean into the positive response. “I expected there to be some confusion about it anyway. You can - you can ask questions…” Your skin heated, legs pressing together and away from the handsome fox looking down at you. 

“Anything?” Yeonjun purred with a low, but inquisitive tone.

“Umm, yeah. Sure. Anything.” 

Yeonjun took note; as his nose suddenly twitched and he shot Soobin a discreet glance. 

This close, this shy, you did in fact smell like something he wanted to breed. He couldn’t even believe his mind went to those places, to ravish his own bandmates girl. But the text had used the words ‘shy breedable deer groupie’ pretty explicitly, so it wasn’t like he didn’t have full green-meaning-go. 

But still, he was in slight disbelief.

“Yeah-h, anything is cool, anything you guys want to know, you know? You can ask -”

“How long have you been thinking about asking us for help with this?” Yeonjun shot back immediately, cutting you off. “Who else is involved? Does Beomgyu know? Where did you think we’d go? Are you clean? How long-term is this?”

Now that he had gained social context, the fox was back on his feet and as swift as ever.

“Yeonjun -” Soobin groaned. Ready to throw him over the diner table and punch his pretty Vulpine face out the back door already. “Please, for the love of God, go gently with this one.” 

“You don’t even believe in God.” Yeonjun threw back at him.

Soobin made a noise of frustration but you quickly shook your head, tone soft as a breeze. 

“No no - Binnie, it’s okay. It’s alright. I can get why someone would be distrusting.”

You turned to face Yeonjun’s quizzical face, the one that clearly didn’t believe you yet. It was in his nature, you reminded yourself. You can ask to stop and everything will stop.

“I’ve been into you guys ever since I met you. I’ve just never really found the perfect moment to -” 

Yeonjun's nose twitched, distracted. His ears whooshed forward and upright; standing to attention as his irises pinched. It made you pause mid-sentence. You had a cat, and you knew that look. And by the look he held on his face, you knew that he knew. Knew that he knew that you knew. And so forth.

“I’m clean!” You squeaked.

Your shirt collar had moved. And a waft of Soobin's’ scent had released into the air and straight up into his nasal column. And then, travelled up into his brain, ears, eyes - until he was locked upon you. 

“Have you guys been making out?” The fox quipped, ears folding in offence before thwapping up together so high and so fast they made a thwop sound upon impact. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions, idiot.” Soobin huffed. “My scent is all over her. How have you not realised this sooner?”

Now that the big dog had mentioned it, Yeonjun could smell Soobin’s scent. And it was plastered all over the booth. Specifically, all over you. And the teeth-adjacent bruises indented into your shoulder. The Doberman's clothes even smelt like you; however faintly.

And as Yeonjun eased into your space, well; the three scents mixed, and created the most mouth-watering combo he had picked up in years.

“My nose isn’t as good as yours,” Yeonjun murmured, distracted. 

The fox watched - or more accurately, listened - as the last of the large dining groups exited out the front door with a bustle, whizzing by the table and kicking up a fuss. But as soon as the people had passed, he whipped his attention back to you with a harsh whisper under his breath and leaned in completely - like a school kid sharing some killer secrets. 

Only, he needed some assurance of your confidence first. Such as it goes.

“I feel like you’re pulling my leg here Y/N.” He hissed. “And as much as I’m down to fuck - and even down for the whole courting thing - how do I know you’re not both taking me for a fool? That this isn’t one big setup to split the group up? To set me against your fucking man?”

A tense silence passed between the two of you, and an anxious heart rate picked up inside your muscles so fast your fingers started to tingle; your blood rushed into your ears as adrenaline made you look to the other male across the table for help. Soobin growled lowly, in complete control of himself, answering your eyes. You were surprised to see his ears flat back against his equally jet-black hair with an irritated expression. His diamond-patterned chain danced in the light under his jacket as his neck flexed in anger.

“Call Beomgyu, you idiot,” Soobin growled deeply now. It was guttural, and he was clearly pissed off. “Or text him, I don’t care. Just quit fucking bothering the girl about it. This isn’t a setup - and you know that. I wouldn’t bring you into one. Don’t insult me.”

Curiously, he didn’t fight Soobin on this. Instead, his ears pulled into submission, and his lips formed a small pout. Yeonjun grumbled in thought before pulling his phone out to send what you imagined to be many multiple texts in full caps and at a rapid pace to the sickly Beomgyu on bed rest at home. 

“Hey,” Soobin mumbled, reaching to take your hand from across the table, the one picking anxiously at the edge of the metal rim. 

The softness in his voice distracted you from the beating in your chest; so you looked up and away from Yeonjun for a moment. 

You slipped your hands into his outreaching ones; timid, but desperate for reassurance. He squeezed your smaller wrists and fingers in his palms - dwarfed, soft, shaking - then released, to let you pull them away if you wanted. But you didn’t let go just yet. So he squeezed again. 

You were already calmer.

“If it gets too much, you can ask to leave. You know that right? That it’s okay? Say forget it, and we’ll never speak on it again. Alright?” 

You nodded, pulling away to sit on your hands instead for now. Watching between the two of them, but mostly Yeonjun who was texting with a furrowed brow and swivelling emotive ears. 

The fox beside you had his eyebrows drawn low and chin tucked. Eventually, he clicked his screen to black, and set it face down on the table. He turned to see you. He was scanning you. As his ears slowly dipped to the side.

“Well, shit, gorgeous.”

The message had got through.

But he didn’t look nearly as regretful as you thought he would. Instead, he held a smirk on his cheeks and tipped his head.

“Little Doe really needs our help, huh?”

Soobin released a weighty exhale as you pulled away.

Your body flushed hot. But you nodded. Concentrating on Soobin's knuckles padding on the table in a tap tap tap-tap tap.

There was silence for a moment. Yeonjun's ears went back and he tapped his lighter on the table in a rhythmic swivel, as he pouted and looked around aimlessly in thought. Then a lightbulb hit.

“Guess a good start is to ask what you’re into. Any hard boundaries you’d want to avoid? But I’m guessing….” His eyes darted all over you, to the dog on the other side of the table. 

That’s not where you had expected him to look for an answer. 

“Binnie might have already covered that.”

The dog chuckled and nodded.

“Little Deer is into praise, mostly. Guidance. She’s a voyeur. Loves soft-domming. But needs a little bite to keep her guessing.”

Your eyes shot wide open and you blinked rapidly. Your kinks were just being openly exposed like a laundry list, and you weren’t even sure when or how Soobin had figured this all out.

“Pretty boy is a good sniffer-dog.” Yeonjun chuckled, answering your expression.

“Oh,” Soobin added, “and she has a size kink. But I'm sure you’ve picked up on that one already.”

“I did,” Yeonjun smirked, tongue in his teeth and giggling at your shyness. “Oh, I most certainly did.”

Before you were able to fully shrink into your spine like a turtle into its shell, Yeonjun's voice fired back up, easy and chill in tone. It soothed you, and it made you feel like you were being laughed with, not at.

“Any hard no’s though, gorgeous? We’ll use the light system if needed, Gyu said you already know what that is.”

You shifted, body hot, gaze down towards your knees.

“Yeah, I do. And no - not really. Just… be nice. We’ll have to find out about specifics. I’m not really - adventurous enough to know...”

Yeonjun snickered, teeth between his tongue. 

“Sure; dodge ‘em as we find ‘em. Sounds good to me.”

“But - and be specific -” Soobin’s low voice mumbled. Your chin lifted instinctively to find him. “Do you want to try anything new? Anything that will help you feel more grounded?”

The boys waited for some time, but they were greeted with silence and a hanging head. You looked stressed and puzzled. You worried your hands as you tried to think up something to answer with.

Yeonjun hummed at you. And leaned into your space.

“Mmm ~ You look stuck, gorgeous ~ Cat got your tongue?” 

You wanted to punch the beautiful face in front of you that spun goading words like a golden thread. You knew the implications. That Beomgyu, said cat, had a hold on you, even from miles away. Quickly and firmly, you shook your head.

“Absolutely no way,” You puffed your cheeks. “I just - I don’t know about this stuff.”

Corruption, Soobin mentally noted. Yeonjun thought much the same.

“Well,” Yeonjun countered, working swiftly. Voice low, leaning on the table, still and unmoving. But he was taking his time. Dancing around your edges.

“What is it that the little kitty did with you, to get you so smitten, baby girl?”

“I am not - smitten -”

“Sure you’re not.” He grinned. 

“I am not, smitten, with Beomgyu -”

“Sure. I’m also not a fox.”

The two of you struck a line of fire before he shrugged.

“Well he clearly didn’t do a good enough job, otherwise you wouldn’t be here begging for our help, little Fawn.”

“You don’t know that…” You whimpered. But he was right and you both knew it. 

Yeonjun's smile quirked. You were moments away from breaking. A thrill he could never not chase.

“Oh, I think I do. I know the way he works. Kitty probably had you under his thumb from the moment you met.”

“What - No! No, he did not!”

“Bet he did, doll. Bet he had you hanging onto every sarcastic comment and insult he could come up with.”

“Okay!” You puffed up, desperate to defend your image and your friends. 

“Then tell me, tell me exactly what you think he did, to get me so… love-fucked, Yeonjun! Enlighten me! Please! Since you seem to know so much!” 

The fox’s smile pulled up until you could see his gums. A fear struck in your belly; he was about to do something, and you were ready for it.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm imagining he did a little something like this -"

Without warning, Yeonjun snapped into motion. It was obvious he had been holding back for quite some time; as his limbs became unstuck like a spring suddenly being let loose inside an animatronic. 

With a swift and deliberate movement, his grip lay around your throat and his fingers pressed onto your pulse; body upright and kneeling to follow you down down down until your shoulders were wedged between the seat and the table and you had nowhere else to go.

You gulped, audibly, body stiff as a board. 

The fox was looking down at you with such hunger and fervour that you shifted anxiously against the leather despite your initial instinct to freeze. Yeonjun smelt so damn good and the charm the boy had was insane. You were infatuated. And he was absolutely gorgeous, on top of whatever-the-fuck hybrid impression was being felt.

A single fuck-boy hair curled out from his gelled fringe and hovered over his brow. 

Even while trapping you in a sexual way, in a public place, he could make you smile and feel calm in his presence. Maybe even more so because of it; you sighed, elbows dropping to the chair behind you and heart at a steady pleasant beat to the hybrids ears.

Soobin quickly darted his eyes, nose and ears all around the low-lit floor of the now evening catering diner - already overtly aware of how mind-melting the fox could be. Soobin was not willing to let him undress you for the fox's own sick and twisted personal gain in the middle of the restaurant - to slip from his side of the booth and into both of yours. 

Soobin's body was warm on contact and his side pushed you back into Yeonjun's orbit - more importantly back onto the seat -  with a hand pressed to your exposed spine. The dog smelt like a deep woody cologne, as opposed to Yeonjun’s lighter and sweeter one, and it was a pleasant reminder of the heaviness that had enveloped you in the car ride here. You could still feel Soobin’s jean-clad leg pressing up against your core - 

Pay attention, you chided yourself.

You shuffled up, thankful for Soobin's large frame surrounding the space behind you. Soobin's large hand gripped your knee and unintentionally eased your legs apart, as the fox exhaled warm air down and over your face. 

Your whole body writhed beneath him. You didn’t know where to put your hands, your arms, your legs, your body.

"I want you to look at me while I fuck you, daddy’s pretty little fawn. Want to hear you moan. Want to see you cry, baby. Wanna see your eyes roll when I hit that spot."

Yeonjun had originally started this whole ‘bit’ as a slightly cruel joke. But your reaction was tangible. It made him grumble a noise from his belly, licking his lips. Licking his gums, his teeth.

“Any of this ringing a bell, doll?” He growled lowly, face hovering over yours. “Any of this making you feel love-fucked, yet?”

You had no real rebuttal; because he was right. Everything he was doing; from the way he was acting, to the way he was instructing you what to do, made you melt into the Doberman's side like Beomgyu had done on many private occasions.

And so you whimpered. 

Something small, and submissive. 

Both boys reacted visibly to your noise. Yeonjun's ears tipped further forward and his nose pinched. Soobin’s tail swiped over his jeans in timid and controlled pats and he leaned into you; nuzzling behind your ear with milkshake-tinted breath surrounding your face while the fox’s fingers pressed your throat. 

With the combined actions your core dripped wet and your body flushed hot. 

“O-okay -” You submitted, voice wobbly as all hell. “He might have said… some of that… And he might have had me feeling, some kind of way…” 

It was less of a retort and more of a pathetic distraction of a response. Something to buy time; and the fox smiled; happy that you had succumbed like he had expected. Like you needed to be, for them to help you. 

This was going to be fun.

“B-but what - what about it? Why does it matter? What’s it got to do with this situation?!”

The dog hybrid reached his hand to move under Yeonjun's grip on your throat from behind you; and tipped your head back against his chest and shoulder delicately. Soobin's hand was much bigger, much wider, and a little cooler than the fox’s - from the abandoned milkshake nearby - you melted into him, comfortable in his hold.

“Did you like it, sweetheart?” Soobin spoke with a rumbling growl. “Be honest with us. We want that answer to match the gorgeous scent of your cunt, or we’ll get up and spit roast you in the middle of this fucking diner.” 

You were being thrown totally for a spin. Soobin would never usually talk to you like this. 

He squeezed your airways in a long and steady hold. And looked down at you with a quirked eyebrow and amused expression, taunting you and daring you to lie, plump lips only just out of reach, with an uncharacteristically wicked smile that hypnotised you.

You puttered a pathetic noise, jumping as the fox’s hand soothed up the whole length of your inner leg until it trailed down and over your knee. 

With the unpredictable fox totally out of sight, you gripped Soobin’s strong legs under his jeans. Pleading with your eyes. But he was unmoving, and as patient and methodical as ever.

Yeonjun chittered, and you jumped as his long fingers slipped underneath your skirt to hook down under your thong string over your hip to massage your pubic bone. He applied pressure to the space around your core; pressing his two forefingers onto either side of your labia, just to see you squirm.

“Fuck-ing - wicked canines -”

You practically ate your choked moans, squirming against the seat for an ounce of friction, eyebrows drawn together as Soobin maintained heavy, groaning eye contact. 

“Speak.”

His aura had shifted with surprising ease and natural authenticity into one of authority, and his eyebrow pulled high, daring you to make a noise, daring you to lie, daring you to go against their words. Your whole body was on fire, and you had begun tensing from muscle down to the bone. 

Yeonjun's hand twisted in a quick and deliberate motion, middle and forefinger smoothing up and down your folds with ease. He pressed his slender middle finger into your sopping cunt; pressing into you like warm butter. Yeonjun hissed from between his teeth, and his nails dug into your thighs; pumping his finger to add another.

It was an easy fit. You were dripping with slick already. The scent filled their brains with nothing but fantasia and lust.

“Nngh - yeah - yes - yes -” You just about managed to keep to a whisper, hips pressing into the split second of contact with the fox with a burning need. Your grip was tight on their arms and your breathing scattered.

“I did, dammit -” You whimpered, struggling to look down at Yeonjun’s hands that pumped at the slowest pace. “I did, I loved it -”

But the dog tipped your chin back; causing you to fall back onto Soobin's shoulder with your smaller hands gripping over the tight squeeze on your pulse. He moved his thumb to stroke adoringly over your cheek. 

“Pay attention,” Soobin ordered gruffly, but gently. “Tell us how much you loved it -”

He didn’t even get to finish before you were falling apart on his words.

“Fuck. I loved it, Binnie. Wan’ it from you, please, please mark me, please - I’ll do anything, please, fuck -” 

Your heart was racing, and the pheromone of pure rushing lust and submission coursed through you and out into the open air like a drug. Yeonjun's eyes pinched harshly, and his ears pivoted to alert as he shot Soobin a look under his brow. Soobin grumbled, communicating with his friend; his ears also tipped and eyes blown wide.

The look Yeonjun had shot was an instruction to get it together, or more specifically to get you under control before you flooded the whole diner with a pheromone that told the whole place and a short area outside that you needed to be fucked into the next century. Soobin's reaction was one of complete agreement.

“Loosen up, pretty doe,” The dog rumbled, drowsy. He nuzzled against the dip in your neck and let go of the majority of his grip. "You’re shaking. Relax your body." 

The sudden change-up made you shake; quivering in an uncontrollable and entirely unfamiliar way. You whimpered; shifting in his hold; before releasing the tension in your legs upon instruction. It wasn’t that you were scared; no, you were exhilarated and struggled to contain it.

“That pretty cunt of yours is gonna get us found out someday...” Soobin nuzzled behind your ear; biting the outer corner. “... too bad I care enough to let you get upset. That’s enough, let her go Jun.”

“Please, Soob I need you… Junnie, don’t stop…” 

But the fox hybrid didn’t answer your whimpered plea. Instead, Yeonjun retracted his hand and body after gathering the prize he wanted, with a foxish grin spread wide across his cheeks. Submitting to Soobin's direct order with ease. Like he had done it before. Like he enjoyed it.

Soobin released his grip on your throat to hold his arm across your chest. And allowed you a moment's peace to pant like a puppy in heat.

With your head flopped forward and dizzy, Soobin placed his palm under your chin again from behind to tilt you back onto his shoulder, gently this time. He groaned freely at your knees curling up into yourself and Yeonjun's pink gums and healthy canines flashing at him in the low light.

Prey; tugged around until the beasts were ready to feast.

Yeonjun's eyes locked onto your own as he licked at the syrup-sin he had managed to pick up in his scooped fingers. It dripped onto his luscious lips; his irises pulled thin as slits as his pretty slender fingers spread the sweetness around and up his gums; fingertips revealing his sharp teeth and plump lips. The same thin and sharp canines you had dreamed about being sunken into your thighs.

An angel's nectar on a devil's tongue. 

"Sweet like heaven." The fox purred, moaning deeply as he leaned to fall back onto his seat. 

The fox’s jeans were tight and his expression was blissful. His fingers rested in his mouth, as he sucked at them with sinful moans. His ears fell to the side and his tail quirked; palming at your knee that you pressed onto his hard cock. 

You moaned in response, fingers clasped between Soobin's knuckles and gasped at the weight put on your throat. It wasn’t tight; instead, you found it rather grounding. But it was enough to willfully drag air back into your lungs.

Yeonjun's eyes were low and focused entirely on you and the hand decoration around your neck. He popped the fingers out of his mouth with a deep moan, filthy and loud into the diner, eyes fluttering. He was so brazen.

“Mmph - Fuck, big dog, you’ve got to taste this doll. Heaven-ly~” He sang.

“No doubt.” Soobin groaned, nose against your hair and voice rumbling behind. “If it’s anything like her mouth, I’d like nothing more than to spit in it.”

Upon such nasty praise, you were unsure what to do. A quiet moan left your lips and you squeezed your legs together against the Fox’s hands. Shaking with fervour.

Soobin dipped his head to meet your whimpering for an open kiss. He grumbled against your lips and pressed back down to lick up the saliva that pooled on your tongue after being toyed with so much. It was a short embrace, but one you were grateful for. You pulled away to close your eyes and rest against his shoulder.

“You play so well, gorgeous,” Soobin grumbled, pressing the corner of your mouth to wipe your lips with his thumb. “Didn’t think Junnie would make you drool so soon, though. Do you like being spoiled?” 

“I do.” You managed, in a tight tone, stiffening up against the dog at your back. “Thank you.”

Truthfully, the Doberman's nose was much more sensitive to the nerves he could smell hanging around the arousal in the air, and he was determined to make you feel as comfortable as possible whilst in their care. You eased against him - muscles melding against the curve of his chest - with a relieved sigh.

Oh, but if only he knew.

You wanted him. Wanted to be perfectly near him. Consumed by them.

He growled softly, and answered your pattering heartbeat by pressing against your back even more with his chest - the best he could do at this angle - moving the hair from your shoulder to the already bruised skin behind your neck to press his nose into your collarbone, over your scent gland.

His woody musk was plastered over you from before in the car already, though. So he pressed his cheek to your neck with a content grumble, and smiled against your shoulder, hand over your stomach in a loving pull. 

“Do you want us to take you home? Go back to the car? Or you gon’ tell us when you’ve had enough?”

You would have loved to answer, but your mind was elsewhere, and you had no space left to think. Your eyes fixated on Yeonjun, and the long drag of his cigarette. Of course, he knew he was being watched. But he didn’t spare you a glance. It was all part of the act.

Once again; in the dimly lit booth of the diner, the orange in his thinly slit eyes shone like a cat in headlights on a foggy road. His cheek tilted, and he smirked at you; sprawled over their legs and so fuzzy with scents that you were starting to miss breaths. He saw your eyes dip until you felt consumed.

“Hmm, babe?” Soobin mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek and pressing your stomach with his wide-open palm to gain your attention. 

He truly could pick you up and bend you over with little effort at any time. You could see now after all the time spent together platonically, why he was favoured as a hired bodyguard. Lean, but strong. And more than a little gutsy.

Your mind was starting to wander.

You shuffled to sit upright and face more towards the hound in the soft leather seat. It was a welcome body heat to your side, and you felt secure, messing around with your larger friend pressed to your back. Yeonjun watched you both with enamoured eyes, tail curled and ears dipped completely. Thumb pressing into your inner knee in smoothing swipes.

The chemistry was obvious. But Yeonjun wasn’t in the slightest sense jealous when he knew what was pre-agreed and on the cards. Besides, you had your own relationship together, already. 

It was only a matter of time before you fell into him like that.

Soobin's' energy was in such contrast to the fox. The dog's tail flopped up and down as soon as you turned to him, ears tentatively tilted downward in your direction and dimples softly dipped into his cheeks. You accepted the gentle nuzzling head butt against the top of your scalp as his ears curled. 

A soft putt of air sounded from his nose as you reached for his hands. He allowed you to move them onto your lap and off your stomach, admiring that you seemed to feel braver to move how you wanted, now that you had a large-bodied wall against the majority of the diner guests. 

“I’m good here, for now.” You managed, voice weak. “Thank you though, for moving Binnie.” The Pinscher nodded, and his dimples pressed into his smile. “I like you here. Both of you.”

A pretty girl who likes to feel protected, Yeonjun mentally noted with sharp eyes and a smile.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” The dog smiled. Happy. Pleased to help you. “And sure, fine, if it’s what you prefer.”

“D’you want a drink or something doll?” Yeonjun offered, a lot closer to you now than you realised he had been. He was certainly sneaky.

“It’s on us,” Soobin added. His deep voice reverberated between your ears, making you squeeze your thighs tight. 

Soobin noticed and poked at the softness of your ribs as you curled both your hands into his one large palm. He squeezed your hands in his, ears pointed directly down at your face and tail happily swiping in a relaxed pattern. He was being patient with you.

You dipped your head, finally registering the dizzying effects of being so hot and bothered.

You shook your head, and a small “No, no thank you.” was mumbled into the canine's chest area. 

You felt faint. Like you were being circled. Like your head was pulsing at the images of being stuffed full. Like you were awaiting tense moments of silence before being pounced. You wondered if the thrill would ever subside.

Soobin’s scent was heavy with musk, and he had to put in a lot less legwork to make you pliant, unlike the fox. He didn’t want to push you. So he let the fox take over in the meantime.

Yeonjun sat up, shuffling into your side. Ears craning to hear your breathing, your quick pulse.

“You okay, gorgeous?” The fox asked quizically behind the diners' comically large laminated menu that had been passed over the table by Soobin. Of whom; had moved away to deliberately break some tension. 

Of course, the flimsy plastic didn’t actually block anything from the other hybrids in the building due to their senses. Not to mention Soobin was taller and practically glued to your side, within earshot and by proxy inside your bubble like a literal, actual large guard dog, so the guise of it just being ‘you and Yeonjun’ was a falsehood. But the laminated card at least blocked your human brain from noticing anything but them, for now, and that's really all that mattered. 

They were wining and dining and potentially long-term courting you now, after all. Your comfort and security was of the utmost importance.

“Hope we aren’t moving too fast? Don’t want to spook you, doll.”

You smiled, with a shake of your head and huffed a sigh.

“No, I’m - I’m good, thank you Junnie -” You stuttered on your words, unsure if you should say what you wanted to. “It’s just…” 

“Go on?” Yeonjun drawled. “What is it?” He puffed at the smoke of the practically forgotten and readily burning cigarette with a relaxed posture. Arms crossed, back curved. 

By God, beyond him being just so convincing; you trusted him with your entire body by now. He barely had to push and you were ready to spill until there was nothing left but clean bone. 

This is of course, what Yeonjun wants. Information. Secrets. The view behind the curtain. He is consumed by the need to know. 

Always and forever, he seeks what is between the lines; what is just beyond reach.

“Is it always going to be like this?” You questioned, weakly. “Is it always going to be this intense? This… suffocating to be around you guys?” 

Yeonjun's ears swivelled to point at you with a small, shocked expression. Like he was almost blushing. Like he hadn’t expected you to point it out.

“Suffocating, love? Do you need to go outside and get some air?” 

Soobin's voice boomed from behind, but you quickly shook your head. Binnie was almost always just off the mark and took the voicing a tad too literally.

“I - no - I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” You huffed, and scratched your head, finding the words. “I just -”

Yeonjun simply nodded and waited. You would find your footing.

You blurted out your thoughts; short and fast.

“This thing I feel when you’re around me - this feeling of pressure in my lungs. It’s like - I can feel you guys in the room without knowing where you are. But it’s only you guys. Or like, other predators. Surely you feel it too, right?”

The boys shared a look. These were the types of things a hybrid in heat would be experiencing.

“I don’t know if I’m just super sense-aware after not socialising for so long, or if it’s like, a super normal hybrid thing, or if - maybe - I’m just horny as all hell, but I just wonder. Is it always going to feel this intense? Do you… know that, even?”

And your innocent mouth had just uttered your current state to them into the air, without any idea of what you were saying. But according to Beomgyu; you hadn’t experienced a cycle yet, and the clinicians said it should be months until one started. 

Unless something, or someone, had triggered it.

The two of them proceeded, cautiously. Conscious not to react strongly.

“These things are normal.” Yeonjun purred, soothingly. “Most of it probably has to do with you getting used to life with this new body.” He tapped out his cigarette, and kissed his teeth, moving to look at you. “You could call it a heightened sixth sense. But really it’s just all of your senses working together to keep you alive.”

“Like a deer, in a forest? Hearing all the… things around it?” You offered, trying to relate it to something you had seen before. 

Yeonjun nodded, with a touched smile.

“Sure, sweetness. Like a deer, in a forest.”

You nodded. And thought on it for a moment. Yeonjun spoke up before your mind could wander down any unfactual wormholes.

“A marten knows when a deer is nearby. A deer knows when it’s in the presence of a bear. A bear is usually always aware that it’s in the presence of a hunter. And so on.” He flicked his eyes to the dog behind him. Soobin nodded, so Yeonjun continued. “ You’ll get used to it eventually. The severity of it - or, at least that intense feeling of paranoia you’re getting - usually goes away when we become ‘of age’. You’ve just got some catching up to do is all. Started a lot later than the rest of us.”

Yeonjun's smile was kind, as you looked up to him. 

“Obviously, coming up to when you reach your rut, you’re going to start being more aware of your surroundings. Same as a deer, right, gorgeous? You’re gonna start looking for partners - physically, maybe even subconsciously - any scents they may leave around, or indicators that they’re also down to fuck. Learning body language is extremely important.”

Yeonjun paused to heave smoke into his lungs and out of his lips in a slow, circular puff. He was assessing you. As expected, your response was bashful. A small nod and avoidant eyes indicated to him that you were listening, and your racing heart told him that you were affected by what he was saying. 

His ear ticked. He heaved a sigh that turned into a hum. And he pushed the remainder of the smoke out of his body with a smile. Swiping the smoke out of the way to see your face.

In the moving air, your nose followed the trail of an aroma. It was Yeonjun's musk. Orange, light, and citrusy, but sweeter than before; with a pinch of spice that reminded you of Christmas. 

“I’ve heard it does crop up again with future cycles, but not every month, and not nearly as intense as the first. We’re all just mammals on the Discovery Channel, after all.”

You smiled and laughed at his attempt to make you giggle. It had worked.

“Okay, thank you.” You exhaled a sigh. That had lifted some weight off your shoulders. It was a conversation Beomgyu would never entertain, so you were thankful for the explanation.

“I enjoy being here with the two of you, so I guess it’s not a bad thing and I’ll get used to it eventually. Not really that hungry though, if you guys are about to order?”

The fox’s eyebrow quirked. Happy to move on. “Really? Food’s on the house and you don’t want anything?”

You shrugged, looking between both the boys’ pointed expressions. You puffed your cheeks and pulled your shoulders up to shrug on an exhale.

Yeonjun pulled the menu over to rest on both of your legs. The laminate was cold, and his hands - well the contact made you itch with the need to be smothered by him.

“You should eat something, Y/N. Especially if we’re gonna drink later. We can do takeout if you don’t want to eat it here?”

You were looking at the menu. You were reading the words. But nothing was coming to you. Nothing stuck. Your brain felt like cotton candy, and you were unable to concentrate on anything but the desperate want to have his hands spread over your tacky thighs and to fuck you until you came all over the -

“I don’t want you guys to feel put out, is all.” You pressed, cheeks hot from trying to keep your mind in check. Missing the sharp eyes that grew amused at your reaction to some very deliberate teasing.

Soobin scoffed. “Not at all, you can have anything on here, it’s your pick.” All the while his thumb pressed over your knuckles and into your palm.

“How are you guys so damn persuasive?” You laughed gently. “You’d make great con men, you know? Maybe even better pick up artists?” 

The dog giggled. His arm moved to sink behind you, palm behind the gap between you and Yeonjun, encapsulating your personal bubble completely. 

“I think maybe you just like us, sweetheart,” He said calmly, “and I’m personally taking the whole thing as a compliment.”

The boys laughed, but Soobin could tell you wanted something. It had been hours, and he needed to feed you before they gave you a good fuck. 

Humour was a deflection that Yeonjun could easily counter; so Soobin shot his friend a look over your head as you puffed your cheeks at the menu, nodding at you with a ‘she needs to eat something’ look. He got the hint immediately.

Yeonjun made a long nasal noise with shrugged soldiers. “Welllllll - we just don’t want you to start feeling left out, is all. You could share something of ours? Of mine?” His head dipped beside your own, and you wriggled between their hips at the sudden intrusion. “And if you don’t finish it, they do have take-out boxes.”

“Yeah, okay then. If you insist.” You answered with a giggle.

“I do,” Yeonjun smiled, ears shifting towards you as his cheeks lifted to an eye-half-closed, gentle expression. “But not if you really don’t want something. Don’t want you to feel pressured. Just want to look after our gorgeous girl is all.”

“Ice cream is good?” You giggled, humoured by his expression and noticeably more malleable under his sway than Soobin’s. 

“Cherry Sundae it is then, princess,” Yeonjun purred lowly with a pleased smile. And this close, with his striking eyes, dipped low and ears folded forward, he held an air of gentle authority about him. Your attention drew to his face and his face alone. 

“Proud of you for being able to make a choice, pet.”

That nickname did something to you. Like an elastic band panged inside of your brain. And Yeonjun was patient with your reaction, unmoving while your guard dropped and your smile grew dopey.

His eyebrow quirked. 

“Did you like that, baby?” 

You flushed hot; nodding. 

Yeonjun chuckled. “You can be our pet, if you’d like that, gorgeous.”

You were enamoured by the beauty of him. How close he was. What exactly you wished to do with him. What you wanted him to do with you. 

Your focus drew particularly to his lips. You had never actually realised how plump and perfectly pink they were until now. He was tall, tan and kind, with a smile that pinged cupids arrows straight into any girl's heart that was fucked dumb enough to lean into them. You wanted to move so badly that your nails dug into Soobin's hand on your lap and you missed his small exhale of a cry.

Yeonjun's cheeks twitched into a smile. His canines slipped past his gums. You were just so adorable to him. In the way your nipples poked through your shirt at the mere hint of excitement, and the way your tongue darted to wet your lips; to your breath catching in your lungs on his every word. It wasn’t often that a prey type actually held his attention for this long, or this intensely. But he could see now why Beomgyu had taken such a quick fascination towards you.

The fox was devilishly curious to see just how far he could push you - into sub-space, or even your newly found instincts. 

He wanted to pull you apart just to put you back together again. 

You had asked them to help you. And he intended to do so. But in his own ways.

As your eyes dipped and your heartbeat pattered like a bunny about to be caught, Yeonjun found himself leaning into your space until there was nothing left. 

And it wasn’t like you didn’t want it. You had been aching to be touched ever since Soobin kissed you in the car; cunt wet and pressing against the leather - moving across it in such a way that it would likely smell of you for weeks. 

Sucking on the slick almost straight from the source was a memory that made Yeonjun groan with lust. He grew instantly pleased by the way your shoulders dropped as he pressed into your space and the way your legs shifted endlessly together for some friction.

He could also, like his companion, see that something was holding you back from taking the last leap. So he took a shot in the dark and guessed what it may be, allowing you to come to him, by mitigating any doubts either party had, to the best of his abilities. 

He had hit full score so far, what harm was there in another try?

“Payment is appreciated, little one, but not expected.” He practically purred at you now, a blink away from your face. “For everything, tonight. Or for as long as this lasts.”

Yeonjun lifted the back of his hand to brush his knuckles over your nipples that sat perk and taut against the cotton of your cropped blouse; his long fingers catching on the collar and tugging it down until the fabric flopped back into place and you blinked out of your daze. 

Your eyes and mind had begun to wander as his hand did, thinking of all the things he could do to you with his pretty hands and lips, mind full of muck. 

But a finger under your chin propped you back up. 

Your lips opened to a slight part and your eyes dipped low. “Like Binnie said, in the text from this morning,” Soobin rolled his eyes behind you. The charmer was now also lying as if he had ever read the text. “We only want to spoil you. Nothing more, and especially nothing less. You’re welcome to repay us in whatever way you please. But it’s not a must.”

You couldn’t stop yourself. Filled to the brink with a sudden lust and instinctual urge to just touch him, get near him, taste and lick the space behind his gums and to be enveloped by them to the point of mindless submission.

You had been warned of a predator's pull, but this was the first time you had fallen into the arms of one. Literally. Being purred at by a Fox hybrid as his blunt nail dragged the underside of your chin towards his face.

“Speak up, pretty Fawn. What's on your mind?”

You balanced a hand atop the denim on his thigh to press quivering fingers to his perfect neck, anticipating his lips in a trust fall and leaning over and onto his torso. Yeonjun groaned, delighted. He flopped the menu onto the table with one hand - pinching your nipples between his knuckles and his thumb to tug you closer - and moved up to hold your jaw with the other as you pushed the angle of the kiss down upon him. 

He was ever so gentle in the way he kissed. Licking small laps against your lips and never going any deeper. 

But it only made you moan for more. 

Your hand on his thigh reached to his farthest shoulder and you lifted higher and higher above him - unintentionally set to fling over a leg and sit on top of him, so consumed by desire and buzzing from head to toe - until Soobin had to intervene.

The dog used one large palm to pull you back down by one thigh. 

The chair leather squeaked underneath you as it tugged at your exposed skin; but he had pulled you down to sit on his thigh and knee, with your palm returning to Yeonjun's chest to steady yourself and pull away from the kiss. 

You had broken the kiss with Yeonjun with a broken moan, looking back up behind you with a thankful smile and puffy, bitten lips. 

“Careful - you almost flashed the whole diner, baby,” Soobin grunted, smoothing his thumb over the outside of your leg and loving the complete hold he had on you. You reached to intertwine your smaller hands with Soobin’s over his knuckles in apology. He squeezed your hand gently.

“As much as we all want to, we can’t jump any bones in here - at least, not yet. Not until Kai gets here. It’s too dangerous, love.” 

You nodded sheepishly, melting against the two of them as Yeonjun shuffled impossibly closer and Soobin leaned down to kiss behind your ear. The fuzzy sensation of lust washed over your head and you let out a small cry. 

The hound held you down against his leg as the majority of your body weight rested on Yeonjun's side. It meant you could lean your one ass cheek and thigh on Soobin some more, leaving the goods open to airflow and making the boys groan. 

Soobin sucked a harsh pressure to the pulse behind your jaw, making you bite your lip as he squeezed his palm around your knee, pulling your legs apart on purpose and manhandling you as he so pleased. He pulled away with a bite, skin between his teeth to make you almost cry.

Your cunt was getting increasingly wet, and soon it would be the only smell swimming in their brains and their mouth until it surrounded them and drifted out of the booth; with every door opening at the front and kitchen creating a sudden draft. Hence the need for Kai to be there. Amongst all the other reasons, only three hybrid men in their prime could ever cover that kind of smell. Let alone replace it.

An open kiss caught you by surprise, placed dead centre on the front of your throat. You hadn’t realised your eyes had been pressed closed, but you shut them again, dazzled by the overhanging lamp lights. The hickey laid there was gentle, but hot and filthy as hell. Yeonjun nibbled sharp canine points together against your thin skin with consistent sucking motions until he stole any clarity left in your mind. Palm stroking up and down your sides, until your ears flushed hot and a hickey was left, front dead and centre.

Your body was finally starting to smell of him - not to the extent of a claim, but a bruising lovebite with those sharp teeth over the scent gland on your collarbone was enough - it wasn’t something you were aware of, but a sure sign that no other hybrid could get near you while you remained in their care. Malleable to them and them alone.

You felt calm again. A shiver rippled up your spine.

“Breathe, gorgeous.”

Soobin's voice unfroze you, and a small gasp hissed between your teeth.

Yeonjun pulled back to flick open his lighter and re-light his cigarette. He chewed on his gums in self-restraint. He wanted to gnaw on you like a fucking fishbone, but he had to wait.

As he leaned back against the seat, he noticed your wandering eyes. Soobin's hands and mouth were exploring you fully; tongue spreading over your ear to make you shiver and moan, while his hand moved underneath your skirt. You held his wrist, aching and gyrating for the edge of his palm to touch your core. 

“Jeez, you’re eager for a fuck - the both of you.” 

Yeonjun made a tutting sound, reaching to pull Soobin's half-empty milkshake across the table and hold the straw between his fingers to slurp it up in front of you. 

“Take it easy tigers. People are starting to notice.” He was referring to the hybrid waitress who was giving him shifty eyes every time she walked the floor.

As soon as Soobin felt the fabric of your panties against his fingertips and heard his companion's warning, he immediately snapped too. He pulled away to groan at the visual that met him - but held on to his very last strands of self-preservation. His hand pulled back, smoothing over your knee with a gentle grip on your thigh to ground you, despite your puffs and whining.

“Just wanna feel you, Binnie, Junnie, please.” Your voice grew high and whiney.

“That’s enough, angel,” Soobin growled under his breath in a patient and calm demeanour. “We gotta wait for Kai. I know - we want it too.”

You batted your eyes, twisting in his gaze. Alas you nodded, skin hot, mind lost in his dimples and touch. Accepting an eyebrow kiss with a fluttering eye.

“Babe?” Yeonjun prompted softly. You turned, dazzled, to a straw being placed gently on your mouth. “Here. You haven’t drunk anything yet.” 

It was true; you hadn’t drunk in hours.

Your hands flew out to wrap over Yeonjun's wrist and fingers upon instruction, and he inhaled a large lung of smoke to your swollen lips wrapping around the straw to suck until he told you to stop. There was something so innocent about the way you followed him, that made the boys' cocks throb in their tight jeans. 

Soobin groaned. “Where the fuck is this guy?” 

The Doberman nasally whined and huffed, and ruffled his hair, placing an elbow on the table to hide his open side, pulling his phone out to text Kai and bother him to ‘turn up faster’.

“You reckon he got stuck? Traffic is pretty bad around here, especially after office hours.” Yeonjun thumbed over your finger caught under his thumb, eyes soft. Soobin didn’t verbally respond, instead shrugging with a deep gruff of annoyance, accompanied by puffed-out cheeks. 

“What’s the time?” Yeonjun asked, softer this time, pressing at the distraction. Eyes dipped and drunk in adoration.

“Near enough 8 PM.” Soobin inhaled sharply, pulling back to click his phone shut and slide it back into his inner jacket pocket. “The fucker should have been here twenty minutes ago, at least.”

“Mhmm,” Yeonjun hummed. “That’s enough.” 

Yeonjun held the cup to your mouth until you released it, and set it on the side to flick his phone out of his coat pocket and smudge out the butt of his hardly-smoked cigarette. 

You didn’t get a ‘good girl’ out of it, but you didn’t necessarily need one with the way he slipped his fingers over yours, palm down and in his lap, tapping at his phone with one thumb. The two of you were quickly falling into things, and it was a pleasant feeling.

You had released the straw with a gasp of air, careful not to cough, but flew to grip at the wrist of the hand that slipped high and snug to your cunt between your warm thighs. 

“Soobinnie! Quit torturing me!” You pouted with an outcry, only to be met with a cheeky grin and a sarcastic shake of the hound's head with wide eyes. 

You decided to try and push him.

“Are you sure we can’t do anything here? Right now?” 

You heard Yeonjun scoff. Frown and pout stuck to his handsome features as he flicked over the screen.

“Nope, not until Kai gets here, babe. And no, again. We’re not fucking in the diner. Quit trying your luck.”

“But I want to.” You pouted up at him.

“So do we ~” Soobin shook his head at you playfully. And tugged the hem of your skirt so it thwapped against your skin. 

His palm was still gliding in short circular motions between your thighs. Each rotation of his palm brushed up against your underwear and made you shiver.

“You’re cute but you ain’t that cute.” Soobin teased, dimples appearing as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Plus, I don’t particularly feel like getting in shit tonight.”

Yeonjun snickered at this from behind you both, still distracted by his phone.

You turned to the fox’s boyish grin with a huff. 

A hair lay on his forehead as he tapped his fingers on your knuckles. That piece of hair was irritating you. It was distracting. It tapped at his brow until you couldn't stand it anymore. 

Now that you were feeling a little braver; you could move before you started to overthink things.

As if he were your delicate porcelain-fragile prince, you moved the hair off his brow - caught between your forefingers and flicked back into the right place - moving to kiss Yeonjun’s high cheek in the process. 

His sharp eyes lay on you immediately. And he held a grateful closed-lip smile. His ears had even dipped to the side. But his brows were creased. And he looked at you almost quizzically. You imagined that if he had whiskers, they would be twitching restlessly.

He wasn’t used to being touched so gently. It made his chest press in against itself. And a bolt of nervousness panged inside his heart; an unusual feeling.

“Thank you - Y/N…” He mumbled. The facade of confidence wavering if only for a moment.

You nodded, with a bashful expression. And again, before you could think about it too much; you propped your knee over his, leaning into his touch. Snug to his shoulder. He hadn’t expected you to be so forward and flirtatious, at least not yet. He liked it. It suited him.

Yeonjun clicked his phone shut to look down at you, humoured, but ears still soft. You batted your eyelashes - purposefully, because you could see what the innocence did to him - and invaded his space.

“You should eat,” Yeonjun murmured, brows now relaxed, and his lips tilted at the edges into a playful smile. “Pick something. If you don’t eat it now, we’ll take it back with us.”

You shuffled closer, making a thinking noise and looking around. He heard your heart flutter, but your sweet face and voice remained steady. 

He bumped his forehead with your own. The heavy smell of smoke and cologne made it hard for you to breathe. He trailed his lips to the corner of your mouth; pressing gently. Then drifted back to your cheek. His thumb pressed into your palm, and his gaze bore into you with a burning ember. All the while his ears lay to the side; submissive. The one further from you twitched every so often; anxious of noises and sounds of the people near you, but you weren’t afraid.

Despite his flashy rockstar ego, the guy really was soft and protective.

“I will, since you want me to.” You returned under your breath, lips brushing his. 

You had already decided on a food item; the whole thing was now just a performance. 

Playing with a devil.

Soobin swished two different dessert menus across the table, nudging your leg with his as Yeonjun pulled away and he returned to high alert. He wiped his mouth with a coarse laugh, reaching for a cigarette and the menu. Neither stayed in his hand for very long; desperate to touch you and the bare skin resting atop his legs. His hands smoothed over your knees, and you leaned on his shoulder.

“Thanks, angel.” Yeonjun winked up at the waitress and moved to rest the laminated menu on his lap as he slouched. He shook the stray hair from his eyes to turn and look at you as you prodded him in the side with small needy hands. Your cheek lay on his arm and a playful smile was visible on your face. 

The fox raised a brow. “What is it sugar?”

“Again please.” You mumbled, blinking up with wide and innocent eyes. “I wan’ another kiss.”

It was a simple prompt, yet it made Yeonjun puff a breath from his nose. He was clever and knew what you wanted. Butterflies of excitement erupted in his stomach at the first confident ask you had been able to give. 

“Another kiss?” 

Yeonjun flicked the tip of his ear and his eyes to the dog behind you. He was providing a great distraction. And you didn’t even react when the waitress dropped her pen on the table, or cutlery on the cloths.

“Please, Junnie.” 

That tone - it went straight to his cock. You were getting dopey. Inebriated by their scents.

“Again?” Yeonjun repeated, voice deep as his ears dipped to the sides. His eyes had secured back onto you. And he relaxed, knowing Soobin could handle the waitress. You giggled, tongue between your teeth, and nodded, unwavering as he used his spare hand to tilt your jaw up with his thumb pressed into the underside of your jaw, fingers on your pulse. Your eyes had dipped and you were entranced. The fox, of course, knew what he was doing, and dragged his open lips over yours.

The waitress spoke to Soobin as the two of you flirted obnoxiously loudly. Soobin cringed, visibly, but it was to the group's benefit, so he sucked it up. It wasn’t that he was jealous; no not at all. He was just aware of how shameless the fox could be about his voyeuristic tendencies.

“Two sundaes on Soobin's tab, please and thanks.”

The waitress quirked. And Soobin sighed. Somewhere between the two of you eating each other's air behind him and the waitress visibly reacting to his name and the situation, he felt annoyed. Her small roundish ears pointed at the table, her tail swishing and her nose pinching at the scents.

“Oh - Soobin? Does Chan know you’re here? I can let him know - he’s in-house?” 

Soobin's jaw ticked. It was a silly, but innocent exchange. 

Of course, Bangchan knew they were there. Soobin's car was outside in the valet. The tab was on his name. Yeonjun was accompanying him. He had pre-warned of his arrival and deliberately picked a date when he knew nothing could happen, and the floor was safe. 

If the assassin didn’t know who was in his own building, then Soobin simply wasn’t a hybrid.

“Sure,” Soobin responded, shrugging with as much ease as he could fake. 

“Sure he knows you’re here, or - sure you want me to let him know?” In honesty, Soobin wasn’t listening. But he was in all senses a gentleman with morals. So he tried his best to ignore the hard-on in his jeans to exhale a polite but to-the-point; “He’s aware that we’re visiting. But sure, you can let him know. Wouldn’t hurt to say hi.”

The tooth that snaggled Yeonjun's lip was fiendish.

Yeonjun cut short your intake of air as he applied pressure to the sides of your throat; and pressed his lips to yours, licking up against the roof of your mouth. He swallowed your moans as quickly as he caused them; while his other hand gripped at the knee flung over his lap. He squeezed your throat until your moans grew puttered.

Abruptly; he broke the kiss. Yeonjun tugged on your lip with his canines before he released you; knee, throat and all. He had given you what you had asked. But you weren’t satiated. Weren’t fulfilled. Needy in a way you had never felt before. Head dipped to his shoulder, enveloped in his aura.

The waitress grew amused and shrugged off the possibility of being offended. 

There were rumours. 

Rumours that Soobin wasn’t quite the reserved, tall, Doberman Pinscher that he appeared to be. That he had a freakish and unbiased violent streak. That his fox friend was an edgy nymphomaniac and a silver-tongued narcissist. 

But that wasn’t for her to find out; so she took his menu with a nod and a smile, sure to swish her tail a little higher than usual underneath her apron.

But the boys’ eyes, ears, and heart, were on you, and you alone.

And little did she know; the two of them were about to become devoted to you entirely.

“Having trouble keeping that cute little thong on, love?” Yeonjun mumbled. 

He poked at your gyrating hips, and snickered at your eager nod, before pressing against your awaiting lips. He teased you; pressing then pulling away, biting his tongue with a shit-eating smile just to make you wait. He did it two more times, then moved back to lean on the chair and look at the menu again.

Beomgyu had warned you that this may happen. 

That they were older; in higher social positions; and may swallow you whole. Beomgyu was a baby in comparison. But their attention was infatuating and you couldn’t get enough of it. You had never taken ecstasy, but the experience made you remember every symptom list you had read for the drug.

“Wan’ m’re ~” You mumbled absently, the fox’s yipping laugh echoing in your brain. You pawed at his arm needily. “Again, pl’se ~”

But you couldn’t help yourself. Couldn’t wait. So hungry for those soft lips and the smoky scent of his cigarettes and cologne to touch you all over again. You pulled both hands to tug at the nape of his neck until his eyes squinted, swivelling to see that desperate expression on your face. Before he could remark, your lips were upon his and your tongue pressed up against his teeth in an uprooting force.

“Mmph - so soft,” Yeonjun grunted, getting lost in the motions before slipping a hand from under the menu to squeeze the inside of your knee. You yelped, almost biting his lip in the process of jolting away. “But you should pay attention when people are talking to you, Kit.”

“Junnie! That hurt!” Jumping with a drunk laugh, you swatted at his hand. “But - no one is talking to me?” You looked at the other canine beside you, then around, confused.

“I was.” Soobin chuckled, tone kind and voice low. “But it doesn’t matter, it wasn’t anything important.”

“Bad doe.” Yeonjun sucked his teeth, peering over the menu for real this time. If only far too late. But his disappointment was quickly mellowed. And he scoffed, shaking his head. Refusing to look at you but resting his palm on your soft warm skin nonetheless. Squeezing, but only enough to hurt for a moment. 

As much as he’d love to mark your skin with his hand, the diner wasn’t exactly the place to do it. That would hopefully come much later.

“You guys are so bad, you know that right?” Soobin chuckled, swirling his drink glass in his hand with a shrugged scoff, one arm tucked under his armpit.

Yeonjun seemed to be the only one that heard him; snickering in response with his tongue in his teeth.

“A little scent-drunk love?” Yeonjun teased when he noticed your glossed-over expression as you stared at his face for quite a long time. He lowered his face close to yours as his tongue caught his canines and he giggled in glee. “Baby wanna be claimed so badly? Baby wanna be touched so bad? Have our teeth all up and down her throat?”

“Wan’ it ~” You moaned wantonly, frowning and confused as to why he wouldn’t submit like Beomgyu usually would to your persistent touch and begging. 

“Yeah right, doll.” Yeonjun snickered. “That little dumb baby brain of yours wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Out of morbid curiosity, he pinched your chin. Immediately; your jaw relaxed and he reached to press a thumb down into your mouth and onto your tongue. You drooled; mouth agape and eyes hooded. 

You numbly and happily held Yeonjun’s wrist as he pulled his thumb out from your mouth - saliva wiped on your lips and your gums and alongside your face - to grip your cheeks. 

“Cause that’s what you are, aren’t you? Our needy, brainless little pet?”

The fox was toying with you

Soobin's arm snaked around your waist with a growl, to pull you back into a solid, warm body. You made a noise of desperation as the dog pulled you backwards, away from the fox and his messings.

“Ngh - no, I - I wan - wan’ it -” 

You looked drunk. Sounded drunk. And you felt it. Unsure what you were begging for.

Still facing the fox; you were perfectly manoeuvrable and open for Soobin to do as he pleased.

“Play nice, Junnie. ” Soobin dipped his head to nuzzle into the crook of your neck; scenting you incessantly to soothe your heart-aching whines. “Doll doesn’t know what she wants when you smother her so much.”

Somehow; with Soobin attached to you; your heart eased its incessant thundering in your chest, and within seconds you were able to breathe deeply again. You moaned, with a dazed and confused expression. The tension in your body released via Soobin sucking at the thin skin behind your jaw. 

"Easy, Y/N." Soobin guided, voice low and filling your brain. "Your heart is racing, angel."

A shiver struck down your spine and you held Yeonjun's hand on your knee. Your gaze grew distant and you moved to lean your head back onto the dogs' broad shoulders and completely to the side. It granted Soobin further access and he wasted no time in pressing his nose to your collarbone; skin to warm skin. 

You threaded your fingers through his hair and up to your knuckles; until you met his scalp. And gripped harshly as he squeezed your inner thigh. 

Soobin sucked at your neck, and you gripped at the large calloused hand that squeezed over the entirety of your thigh, moaning into a bit lip. Soobin growled lowly against your skin. Moments away from claiming you. The girl he adored; that he had guided into the hybrid life. 

It had been long enough. You were practically laying yourself bare in front of him, waiting for him to take you.

His large palm found heavy purchase close to your core, and you twitched with weak repetitive sounds. 

Upon a new tone of low growling from his friend, the fox panicked; and realised just how much the hound had lost control.

Soobin's thumb pressed to your clit over your wet underwear as his large palm forced your legs apart. Soobin's other palm silenced your mouth; clit circled as you writhed in a tummy-burning lust.

“Cut it out!” Yeonjun yelled under his breath, and made a sharp yipping sound; one of warning. Permeated by a rolled-up laminated menu that he used to thwap the young dog on the head with. 

It was only a moment of contact, but it folded Soobin’s sharp ear and got the point across.

Soobin pulled away upon Yeonjun’s loud - and what you now knew to be uncontrollable - laughing chorus. Your skin heated and your ears burned from embarrassment, but you were still scent-drunk, by all means.

Never in your human life, would you have laid yourself bare in an evening diner to get fucked. 

“That was fucking close.” Soobin scoffed.

Yeonjun lit his new cigarette with his ridiculously attractive snapping lighter bottle before taking a large inhale and surrounding himself in smoke. 

“It was.” 

His amber eyes glinted under the low lights and the smoke and reminded you once more of the very real senses they both had over you. 

“Feeling needy, big boy? Haven’t seen you react like that in a long time.” Yeonjun mused once he knew his friend had calmed down. He was both assessing his friend and gauging your safety. If he would have to get you out of here before Soobin started on a dogged campaign of getting you to cum in public. But he seemed okay.

Soobin laughed. “Yeah…” He shook his hair back into place, tousling with it to then reach and unfold his tall slanted ear. “Pretty badly, actually. Little one has a decent hold on me already.”

“Good; then that makes for two of us.” Yeonjun simply smiled, squeezing your knee at your bashful eyes. 

But your mind was empty, as you were just admiring them. Watching his ears. Watching his face. His pretty puffy lips move. His gorgeous amber eyes.

“Gorgeous girl likes a thrill though, huh?” The fox mused; purring at you. He was bouncing back quicker and quicker. And it was a delight to see.

You nodded. 

 "Lucky. Kai should be here anytime soon. He’s a perv, just like you. Pretty Kit to play with. I have a feeling you’ll like him."

Yeonjun moved to sit back and slouch in the booth after setting down his rolled-up weapon; his entire leg still pressed up underneath your thigh and his palm heavy on your leg under the table. His presence may have been strong, but his devilish mouth and eyes were a decent length away now due to his abhorrent height.

Someone was approaching.

“Yeah, YN enjoys a thrill. Not without her new bodyguards nearby though, it seems.” A new voice sang, amused and high in pitch.

You quirked up; unable to see beyond Soobin or the high seats. But the dog flared his nose to calmly lean back and look behind him. Your heart beat in your chest in anticipation; but you remained as still as possible - given that the boys weren’t reacting, you felt safe; but the sensitivity was hard to adjust, even in calm settings.

As soon as you saw the huge grin of the large hybrid, you let go of the breath you were holding. 

"Speak of the devil!" Yeonjun yipped in a high and excitable tone, ears folding as he stood to bump shoulders in complete boyish fashion over the round table, pressing you into Soobin with his hips. 

A close friend.

“What’s up -” Kai laughed, bumping shoulders with the fox, grip strong and small ears folded to his hair in submission.“Been a while!” 

The guys did their usual boyish greeting; all the while Soobin watched you, dotingly. 

As Yeonjun moved to sit back down, you stayed incredibly close to the Doberman behind you. The canine didn't move an inch. Instead; he smiled, greeting Kai calmly with deep dimples and a lazy wave. 

Soobin was amused at your nervous twitching to get closer to him and lean against him to not get crushed, and how reserved you acted towards the stranger; with your dopey smile mostly gone and eyes wide and observant. 

Soobin was a guard dog by trade, but the instincts came naturally to him when you were around. Your ears struggled to keep up in such a dazed state; head spinning to hear between the two of them.

“You’re safe, Y/N,” Soobin mumbled, brushing some hair behind your ear, before placing a kiss on your shoulder that sent a shiver striking down your spine. "He's lower than us. Couldn’t hurt you if he tried." 

You nodded, absently. Something about him told you innately that he was a small predator. He likely couldn't harm you or affect you in the way the boys could; but he had a distinct new smell, one that you had never picked up on before. 

“Sorry, I was busy elsewhere -” Kai started, before seeing you. “Hi ~ You must be Y/N?” He smiled. You waved back with a nod and smile.

“Yeah, you don’t say!” Yeonjun smiled with his eyes. The annoyance completely dissipated, now the guy was in front of him. 

“We were wondering what was taking so long,” Soobin confirmed.

Kai sat down; towards the edge of the seat on the other side, roughly between you and Soobin.

“Oh, you know - work, and stuff.”

“It’s a Saturday evening, Kai.” Soobin shot back, tone blank and unimpressed.

“Well, yeah - but not that kind of work, you know? Like - yeah. Shit man, don’t make me say it!”

“Holy shit, you’ve been hustling all day?” Yeonjun yipped.

It was funny. Huening Kai was there for exactly one thing, and every single one of you knew it. But there was no bad blood. No awkward tension amongst the guys beyond your anxious buzz of energy. 

Yeonjun chittered away, ears folding in comical swings as he updated Kai with some gossip from the other missing friend, Taehyun. It had been a while since the guys had been together and had some fun like this.

You took a moment to observe the guy one degree of separation away from you.

You had only ever met briefly; between band events, taxiing for Beomgyu and after-hour office parties with sister companies. You knew of Heuning Kai. And you knew the guys were close. But beyond that, you remained indifferent and cautious.

Kai’s hair was a soft cool brown, with distinct small blond-edged triangle ears that told you that he was a Pine Marten Hybrid. Curiously; he had a few stray eyebrows. These were whiskers, hidden very well. His irises were dark brown and reached almost the full shape of his eye; only slightly lighter than his pupil. His tail was soft; brown and reached his ankles. And his face occasionally twitched; constantly moving, smiling, taking in his surroundings, and likely fast on his feet. 

He was a pretty guy. But - not someone you were instinctively threatened by, nor attracted to. But there was still something about him that made you feel cautious. Something that wouldn't let you rest.

You were cut off from your staring by a big dog’s head dropping firmly onto your shoulder. 

“Breathe, angel.” Soobin prompted. “You’ve frozen again.”

You inhaled sharply; the exhale played off as a long sigh with a smile at Kai’s sensitive ears and questioning face. The whisper from your shoulder missed amongst the chatter with the Fox. 

Though no matter the scenario, a black-tipped orange ear was pointed towards you, always.

By now, with this much heavy petting, Soobin’s scent stuck to your skin wherever he touched; like rubbing up against pure, thick incense oil. It was the same with Yeonjun; his thumb that stroked your inner knee made you tingle; toe to hip. And if you closed your eyes you could tell which spots hadn’t been touched yet.

You made a delicate noise; one that you had never made before, nor knew logically how to recreate. One of a quiet vulnerability; a soft vocalisation from the back of your throat; an air-light moan. It made the boys look to you instantly; all ears to a point. 

You froze. Eyes wide and majorly embarrassed. Crushed in the silence of their gaze.

Out of the corner of your eye; Yeonjun shifted. This was the most alert you had seen him yet. A smirk slowly made its way onto his face before his tongue touched the corner of his mouth and he dropped his head in a laugh. 

“Fuck.” 

“I -” You shook your head and cleared your throat. “- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know how I did that… Oh…”

Your voice trailed, and you shrunk back into the seat. Eyes down in embarrassment. Skin hot.

It was quite clear you wanted to move on. And the boys were sympathetic to that. But that noise had done something to them. All three hybrids could smell how desperate you were becoming via the pheromones in the air. Your quivering thighs and tacky palms at each touch-point made it so clear what was affecting you to the point of moaning into the air so softly.

To the point of crying out like a foal.

“Want to do it again?” Soobin mumbled; close to your ear.

All he needed was your nod, and the two of them pressed into your skin.

Soobin lay hot and heavy kisses to your ear as his palm slid to your upper thigh; thumb in the crease of your hip and grip gentle. Yeonjun sucked at your collarbone; stroking up and down the inside of your other thigh in a lazy and solid pattern. You whimpered; another wanton moan, quiet and soft.

Soobin's tongue spread over your ear; just as Yeonjun pinched your chin; soft moan eaten by his kiss; lips pressed to your own in a whisper of touch until his smirk pressed to your cheek. 

The dog adjusted his torso so his back was to the floor; gratification evident on his face.

Soobin moved to sit back into a more relaxed pose; slouched, with his elbow to your stomach, so as not to be obvious of what was happening. This way; you could also hold his arm as you fell apart. Testing out the new position, he dragged his thumb over your labia; catching your thong with his fingers, and smoothed over your skin until the fabric slipped up on top of his hand.

Your cunt was soaking wet with slick, and Soobin growled with a gritted jaw.

“Again.” You sighed into Yeonjun’s lips. Hands on his shoulders. Fingers dancing up and into his hair.

“Again?” Yeonjun hummed. Orange hair filled your vision. His smile was wide and tone teasing. “Two’s enough, don’t you think?”

“Again, please…” 

That noise - it happened again; right as Soobin nudged your clit with the flat of his palm, circling his middle finger inside your folds. 

“Of course, love,” Yeonjun mumbled between pressed lips; pausing for a second before slipping his tongue between your open lips; setting a filthy pace to open-mouthed kissing as Soobin's middle finger pressed into you. You moaned into the embrace when Soobin's wrist flicked and he pumped into your tight wet cunt in a delicate pattern. Every time he pumped you felt the pressured swipe of his palm on your clit and your entire torso seized in anticipation.

“I - I want it, please Junnie - please, it feels so good, ngh -” 

Yeonjun groaned at your tiny whispers; your lips were pressed to his and the thick scent of your arousal was making him throb with precum into his boxers. His Adam apple bobbed as your small hand - the one not gripping Soobin's forearm that slipped under your skirt - pressed at his crotch weakly. But the action of it; so innocent and wanting to please, made his ears dip and his eyes contract.

“Feels good gorgeous.” He grumbled, pushing to kiss you hard enough to steal the breath from you. He pulled away with a sharp point to the soft of your lips; they were swollen from his biting. “You gonna come apart for us doll? Gonna let Soobin finger you till you see stars in the middle of this fucking diner, for the whole world to see?” His voice was low and hoarse and echoed around your head as the coil in your gut pulled tighter and tighter.

“Ngh - y-yeah -” You nodded, giving up the pressing at his thick, clothed cock to fold into Yeonjun’s shoulders, face in his neck. Soobin pressed at your back with his chest, nuzzling your shoulder. They were so close to you that there was no room to think, no space for anything but them. 

Soobin bit at your outer ear, nose nuzzling against your hair right as his middle finger curled up inside of you to hit that sweet spot. Rubbing it in the place that made you squirm. 

“Little Doe’s cunt is so tight - I can feel you’re close, baby,” Soobin grumbled lowly, voice projected into your brain. You gasped a moan, lifting to kiss Yeonjun until you pulled away with pressed-shut eyes; Soobin's finger pumping inside you on a deadly rotation.

Yeonjun sucked a hickey right against the pulse on the edge of your jaw. You shivered from head to toe, surrounded in warmth and smells and ears and tails brushing over and encompassing you; warm fuzz spreading throughout your veins and sweeping over your scalp. You must have moaned pretty loudly you realised, as Yeonjun gripped your cheeks in a hurry to kiss you sloppily. When he moved away, he pressed his thumb over your lips to wipe away the drool, laughing gently at you in disbelief. 

“Hush, pretty pet. You’ll have the whole diner rushing over soon otherwise,” He let you go, ears on a tight swivel as your head dropped to his neck and your hand curled up into Soobin's bicep. Mind like jelly, as only a hybrid-sensitive ear could pick up the squelching of Soobin retracting his fingers only to dive down to his two knuckles at a varying pace.

“Ngh - Feels good -”

The boys shared a look. You were close, and you smelt like a fucking cherry ice cream with your wetness dripping off Soobin's knuckles and onto the leather. Even Kai had started twitching in his seat, eyes darting all over you during the slow and sloppy consumption of his ice cream.

“Gyu’s gonna kill you when he finds out about this, you realise?” Kai humoured out loud, shaking his head.

The fox gave him a pointed look, ears folding and lip curled as he sheltered your face. Soobin growled gently, kicking his friend from beneath the table. The dog snarled.

“Shut up, weasel. You’re just jealous you can’t get a piece.”

“Yeah, you’re right actually. She smells so fucking good you’ve got me sat over here wondering when I can get a chance. Or why I even signed up for this in the first place.”

Soobin scoffed. “Cause you’re a sucker for watching and being watched. Shut up and watch the waitresses, nerd. It’s up to Y/N whenever you ‘get some’.”

“Yeah, right.” Kai huffed, defeated but still watching with intent.

“Try not to cry out for us while you cum, hmm angel?” Yeonjun mumbled, softer than his friend, and completely instructional. 

Focused entirely on you; Yeonjun pinched your cheeks to bring you up to his eye level and gain back some attention. Squeezing for a response.

You could only utter a small puff of a nod, brows pulled together and putty in their hands. 

Your cunt was starting to contract and tighten around Soobin’s fingers. 

Yeonjun purred at your face burrowing into his collar, small desperate sighs sounding against his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy and hands reaching for him. He moved his hand to massage your thigh on his side and flicked up the skirt to see past the fabric Soobin was fondling you under.

Yeonjun returned to his half-burned-out cigarette in the ashtray on the table, huffing a drag and coughing with wide eyes, blowing the smoke above the booth.

“Holy shit, sweetheart. That’s one pretty cunt you’ve got there.” 

Kai erupted into laughter as Yeonjun's shoulders jostled, laughing without mockery. He shushed you as Soobin added a third finger, squelching knuckle deep until you felt the cool metal of his ring on his forefinger press against your entrance. Knuckles between your teeth to not cry out.

“O-oh fuck, shit, fuck fuck -” 

Your knees bucked up and hit the table. 

Yeonjun quickly gripped your thigh that fell off the seat as Kai whistled; holding your thigh on him. The wolf whistle was a crude sign that a waitress was coming - distracted by his charm and ease of flirting to get her to look purely only into his eyes. 

“Easy, sweetheart. Quiet. We’ve got guests.” Yeonjun mumbled, lifting your face to lazy lick up against the roof of your mouth. He swallowed your noises and kissed you like some filthy fuck as you orgasmed in their hold. Soobin kept his fingers moving as the human waitress breached the table, his other hand going to swig the last drops of his drink.

To anyone watching, it simply looked like a bunch of adult kids and the usual two-person couple making out in the same booth. Little did they know, Soobin was brushing up against your g-spot as you whimpered, gripping his wrist and writhing, choking on Yeonjun's tongue.

He held your jaw steady and lazily kissed you, drool stringing between the two of you. 

“Mmph - June - Junnie -” You puttered, trying to speak, but stopped by his teeth pressing against yours, grip tightening on his shoulders. You released a pliant moan. Your guts twisted and the coil in your gut was tightening again, tense in your lower back and shaking. It was so soft the waitress wouldn’t have heard

The human waitress excused herself. You didn’t blame her. Yeonjun's hand had slipped up your thigh and he had pressed the pads of his fingers into your clit, underneath Soobin's large palm. You released from his lips with pants and pressed your face into his shoulder.

“‘m gonna - ‘m gon’ - ‘m - mmmmph -”

Your eyes pressed shut and you bit your lips to stop from crying out loud; grinding against their hands to cum once again. This one was a decently long ride. And Soobin angled up to make your feet tingle.

“Cumming again, gorgeous?” Yeonjun grumbled. Low and into your ear. He knew the answer. Just wanted to hear you say it. Wanted to hear you cry.

“Yeah ~” You nodded, squeezing and gripping his shoulder. “Mhmmm ~”

“You look so pretty in that skirt baby. You like Soobin's long fingers fucking you till you cum?” You nodded, desperate. “You take them so well angel. Think you can fit one more again?” 

You nodded and felt fucking insane at the proud smile on the fox’s face.

“Pretty baby’s gonna fall apart.” He groaned into your ear. 

Your nod was instantaneous; head fuzzy like an out-of-tune TV as Yeonjun moved from your clit to press his hand over Soobin's, guiding in a third finger. You were shaking, and rode along the last high to the next; reaching to pull him for a teeth-clashing kiss. 

The after-effects of cumming like that; surrounded by them, smothered in their scents and security, weighted by them; was a new high you could get used to. You almost couldn't breathe you were so hot. The ceiling spun and your brain was mellow like you had just been dunked underwater.

But they moved away from your hot body purposefully.

Yeonjun even blew cold air onto your face as you leaned on him. Soobin moved his chest from your body. And the boys patiently waited for you to return to the room. Slow movements to let you process; pulling away slowly, deliberately, and selflessly.

Slowly, you eased your legs, and Yeonjun retracted his hand - sucking on it directly over his tongue with a wink at your shy eyes looking up at him from his shoulder - holding your feet from hitting the floor.

Soobin followed suit by retracting his hand. But this time; the dog guided your face up and behind by the curve of your jaw. Without comment, he slipped his fingers into your mouth. They were thick and heavy on your tongue. You tasted admittedly good, but didn’t swallow; just held it there.

"Good pet." Soobin's growl echoed around your brain. 

It was sweet like liquor and thick like it too; cherry syrup strong enough to blow your rocks off if you weren’t expecting it.

Soobin pulled his fingers out - only to kiss you; tongue lapping up against yours and groaning. He sucked your tongue softly, but ultimately let you go after he gathered all the slick from your mouth. 

You turned to hide your face again in Yeonjun's jacket as Soobin pulled away. Shaking, quivering. 

“Fuck -” Soobin wiped his mouth, looking to the other boys, “- she tastes unreal.”

“Hate to say it, and it’s not a bad thing -” Kai murmured, low and cautious. “- but she also smells so fucking good I don’t think we’ll be able to stay here much longer.”

You weren’t listening; instead busy leaning into the fox and his warm body. Face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling his skin. He was so warm and soft, you couldn't help but bury your nose into him. Citrus tones filled your brain and lungs. 

"I'd have to agree - “ Yeonjun huffed, looking to the dog for his agreement, “I'm struggling to breathe clean air anymore." 

The dog nodded, confirming his friends' experience. If the one with smell issues was struggling; it was only a matter of time before it became unsafe.

“Time to go gorgeous.” Yeonjun kissed the crown of your head, smoothing it with a heavy palm. Mumbling to you. You shuddered. 

"Alright then - come on, guys. We don’t wanna get her too worked up in the diner, huh?" Soobin grumbled sarcastically in a rush, tail swiping against the leather diner seat in his excitement. 

Soobin reached to hum in your ear a low tease; “Let the scent-drunk babe clear her head before a good fuck, hmm? How’s that sound doll? I’ll pull the car up right outside.”

Your skin flushed hot. But you nodded, coyly. Accepting the nudge of his ears to your cheek as he kissed your shoulder blade. But you were stuck to the fox, like glue. 

Yeonjun snickered, rubbing at his neck with a sheepish smile. 

“Yeah, right. Forgot where we were for a second.” 

“See you guys later!” Kai squeaked, suddenly up and out of the diner before any of you could respond.

Soobin held a disgusted expression, scowling at his back as he darted out of the diner, paper bills slapped sloppily onto the bar’s top. His ears had peeled back until they almost disappeared in his jet-black hair; his nose scrunched in such sudden fury that you had to shake your head to adjust. 

“He’s going straight to his car to jack off,” Yeonjun explained when you looked at him, with a puzzled expression at Soobin's anger. 

The fox shrugged with an easy roll of his eyes. You, Yeonjun and Kai were morally on the same level of voyeurism, so he wasn’t exactly about to be a hypocrite. 

“I’m not against it.” 

You shrugged also. Unsure if it was necessarily okay, but unsurprised and pretty unbothered. If anything, your ego was boosted by it. 

Soobin held his own ideals, however.

“Well, I am,” Soobin growled, ears tucked back and so obviously ticked off. “Dirty fuck. Never met a guy more disrespectful."

Soobin was furious. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t hot, but… now wasn’t exactly the time. The anger caused you to pull inwards. The sudden movement made your adrenaline spike before you could process it.

"Hey, come on now - you know that's a lie - hey!"

Yeonjun tried to call after his angry Doberman, but he was already up and gone.

Soobin grunted a blunt “See you outside.” and left a rush of air to come towards your newly exposed side. You shivered, rubbing your cool arm as you watched him leave, no bills placed on the side. When you spun around with a panicked expression, Yeonjun awaited you.

"Aaaand he's gone. Welp."

Yeonjun watched you; tentatively. You were so sensitive to mood changes, that he would have guessed you were a born hybrid, were it not for the missing appendages. The whoosh of air seemed to perk you up quite a bit. 

“Yeah - and - but - he didn’t pay Jun? What happened, he - shall we go to the car?” 

Yeonjun smiled at you. Irises slimmer than ever before. And reached to tuck hair behind your head. He hummed gently, eyes small and tracking your face as you rambled.

“I don’t - we should go - Junnie? We should - We should - I'm worried, that's not like him at all - umm - shall we call him, I - I'm not sure where he'd go -” 

So close after an orgasm your words were slurred as your tongue sat heavy in your mouth.

“He's okay.” Yeonjun smiled and simply waited. Your frown grew more desperate.

“He seems really mad Jun -”

“Breathe, gorgeous. He’s right outside.”

Eventually, you heaved a breath. Frowning in disbelief as the heat in your body flushed out. 

Your chin dipped as you gulped an intake of air. Embarrassed. 

You were scent drunk. The come-down was sharp and sudden. 

"Now that's the face I expect to see on a doll that's fully claimed already.” 

Yeonjun’s voice was kind. Low, gentle. 

“He’s got you good, hasn’t he?" 

“You both have, Junnie…” You admitted. “I don’t know what’s happening…”

Yeonjun laughed gently from his chest. Eyes crescented as you looked up; expecting a judging face, but you came face to face with love and affection. Your eyes quickly pooled with tears and an overwhelming sense of anxiety pumped through your gut.

Yeonjun leaned to wipe your tears. 

“Hey, you’re okay. Shh, shh.” He mumbled. “It’s a lot, isn’t it? New feeling?”

You nodded, and as much as you tried to repress it, your face had scrunched painfully and a glob of water slipped from your eye. Yeonjun wiped it away with his thumb, pouting.

Having a person a Hybrid you trusted nearby that was considered more dangerous than you or an unknown social threat; meant that you didn’t have to pay attention to your surroundings like you usually would when you were alone. Having them pull away suddenly meant that your acclimation time to becoming in charge of your extreme senses again was thrown from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. This is why gradual separations are taught from a young age.

You knew all this. Had spoken through it with Soobin many times. The nurses, the specialists, your friends. But it still didn’t make dealing with it any easier.

“Soob left pretty quick. And in a shit mood. Looks like it’s given you quite the shock, hmm?”

You nodded and tried your best to calm your erratic breathing. But before you could stop yourself; your arms reached around Yeonjun’s neck to pull him into an embrace. 

“Hey, hey - you’re alright.” The fox yowled quietly, and his ears folded. 

His heart ached for you. If natural prey-type hybrids struggled to deal with separation anxiety; he had quite literally no idea how you were trying to keep it together so hard.

“Did that new emotion scare you, angel?” He questioned. 

You nodded and Yeonjun accepted this, choosing not to question it with his face in your hair and one arm secure around you, the other holding your legs. He chittered; holding you tight the best he could at this angle. He understood that you just needed your whole face in his clothes and neck in order to feel his safety, right now, so didn’t mind you burying into his jacket.

"You're okay Y/N, he’s just outside, I promise," Yeonjun mumbled, so gently that you held him tighter. "Precious little fawn, hmm? You’ve always been so jumpy… even before the accident… now look at you…"

He didn’t speak for a while. Scared he would say something wrong. Instead, he just held you and rubbed your back as you processed the withdrawal. This is what was missing with Beomgyu, you realised, instantly. The cat was indifferent, and these boys were observant. They were able to care for you. They reacted differently to your fears. 

You released his neck, and he pulled away to see your face.

"What is it, sweet Doe?" Yeonjun hummed, a finger pad swiping over your cheek. "What is it exactly that's got you so upset?"

"I'm worried Junnie…" You said with glossy eyes. Words like lead in your mouth. Difficult to form and project. "I hope he wasn't upset with me - or you, or Kai. He left so quickly, I - and it hurt - I don’t know…" 

Yeonjun wiped your cheek with a sympathetic smile. He knew what you meant. Pulling such a strong presence away so quickly caused you to panic, and tilt off the scale. A matter of mind versus instincts.

“It’s not about you, gorgeous. And I don’t think Kai actually upset him. Just - a thing of pride, that’s all. Let’s just give him a few minutes. He’s probably as affected as the both of us; if not more than. We could all use a little pause, right now. Hmm? Get our heads back?" 

You nodded, looking down at the hand on your knee. Your smaller fingers reached to anxiously work between his knuckles. Yeonjun smiled, chittering with folded ears. He kissed your cheek; sweet, cherub, soft.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to; you know?"

You looked up. Surprised. 

Was he paying attention to Soobin's’ cues? Did he know?

"Because that's what it is, isn't it?" 

You searched his face. But gave no response. 

"You find it hard to speak when you're upset, right?" 

You nodded.

"I take it it’s nerves?"

Nod.

"And it's not because I scare you?" Yeonjun pouted.

You shook your head.

"Okay." He whispered. "I'll stick to yes or no questions for now. Sound okay?" 

You nodded. Butterflies hammering in your heart.

He was happy that you felt safe enough to be non-verbal around him; so much progress in such a short amount of time. It only seemed to happen when incredibly anxious, so he made a mental note to pay attention to that.

“You’re safe, little fawn.” He mumbled, placing one last kiss on your cheek. “I know; you’ll probably feel super stressed for a few minutes. But you’re okay. I’m here. And Soobin's just outside. Try to relax; it’s just a new feeling, not necessarily a bad one.”

You couldn't help but whimper as you held him again. Reaching to desperately hold his neck.

You weren’t sure what to say. Despite it being such a short amount of time you did trust him. With your body and heart. And he truly was grounding you. By remaining calm; watching you, relaxing his shoulders and ears. 

You held him until your chest loosened and you were stable enough that he could stop nuzzling you.

Once confident you wouldn’t cry upon him moving away; he shuffled to slouch back against the booth; one arm stretched up and behind your shoulders - he waited for you to settle into the space between his chest and armpit, elbow folded down as he held you close - and fiddled open his cigarette tin while the other reached over your chest to pull one out.

"You're doing good, pretty Doe. ‘m ‘mpressed." He mumbled; lighting the cigarette over your head again.

You were shaking, and stiff. Like your namesake would usually do when terrified. But he was impressed, given you had just cummed, and then had your support ripped from your side so quickly.

For a moment; given the position; you had no vision of the diner. Until Yeonjun tucked the packet into his jacket and you noticed a man walking towards you. Yeonjun seemed distracted; and checked his phone overview with a flick before it was tucked away to raise an eyebrow at your prodding.

“Hmm? What is it doll?” Yeonjun followed you pointing underneath the table to the guy shuffling across the floor. He was greeting people. Like he owned the place.

“Huh. You know who that is?” The fox questioned with a tilt of his head. You shook your head.

“Well,” Yeonjun started, before re-lighting the cigarette between his lips. His gruff, tobacco voice pressed to your cheek as he whispered dark secrets into your pretty little head. You wheezed slightly at the smell of menthol, turning with wide doe eyes to see him.

“His name is Bangchan. Or Chan for short. He's 25. He runs the local crime show. Fatherly-Wolf type. Has his own…” Yeonjun pulled a drag with a quirked head in thought on how to word it; “specialities. He also owns the diner. And so on.”

Crime show? A funny joke. Or, maybe a slip up… Right?

Said man began to walk past the table; clearly on some sort of serious business, given the scowl on his face. A tall white-haired male followed close behind. Around Soobin's height. He was stunning and feminine. Whereas ‘Chan’ was stunning in a more masculine way.

“Ah - Chan!” Yeonjun called as he walked past - a little harshly were it not for the pressure to stay on his chest, as he anticipated your reaction - catching his ear. The two of them stopped in their tracks. But the blonde male wandered away after a nod of Wolf-mans head. 

His face quickly lit up with a smile.

“Hey - what’s up Wilde! Ah - a guest - you must be Y/N?” 

Chan was cute. Not your type; but sweet, obvious built-in muscles, and mid-height with seemingly natural dark brown hair. He had an Australian twang to his accent, and it was refreshing to hear amongst the rest. Made him stand out.

Yeonjun didn’t rise like you thought he would to greet his friend. Like he always had. It seemed remaining calm for you was the most important thing in the room for him right now. And that made you feel… some kind of way.

Lucky for the two of you; Bangchan was pretty understanding. And bowed his head with a charming smile before sliding into the booth to sit opposite; in place of an awkward handshake.

“Glad you caught me Wilde - Hyunjin had just pulled me to head out, but I was meaning to talk to you.” He peered over you quickly before smiling. “Hope you don’t mind me interrupting?”

Yeonjun smiled as he squeezed your shoulder, kissing your temple. 

“We don’t mind. Sorry; Y/N’s a little star-struck so you won’t be getting a lot out of her right now. The diner is loud and frightening at this time of night. Maybe another time.”

Yeonjun was smiling. But it was tight-lipped and accompanied by a cut-short tone that left no room for questioning. It was clearly; a statement. Bangchan simply shrugged. Smile still kind. 

“Fine with me. Sorry about the noise. Nice to finally meet you though; heard only good things.”

You bowed your head with wide eyes and quivering lips. A little confused; as you had never heard of him before, but you just shrugged it off. It's a small world; you were bound to have some weird high school connection somewhere. 

If Yeonjun considered him safe; then you did too. 

You needed a moment to recover, anyway.

You briefly peered between the two, before you settled with picking at the frays on the thigh of the fox's ripped jeans. Yeonjun smudged out his barely lit cigarette out of respect, and you noted his sharp eyes. The softness in his face had gone since Chan appeared. Not completely; but you were observant enough to notice.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Yeonjun smiled.

You could already see why he was considered a smooth talker. His demeanour right now was completely fake; and had changed so quickly you had almost missed it. But you would never know if you hadn’t spent so much genuine time with him. He seemed cooler. More cheeky, but reserved. As if he was holding back. And he was. He would curse out Soobin later for taking the heat for the three of you without backup.

Chan bobbed his chin and thinned his lip in a thinking expression before making an ‘Ah, yes’ face. Then he pointed to Soobin's' empty yet still indented seat.

“Ah - You’re missing a Pinscher, right?”

“Yup,” Yeonjun laughed, tongue in his cheek. “Soobin’s outside. Pulling valet for us. He won’t leave until we go.”

“Oh - neat! I’ll say hi before I leave, then. Need to give him something anyway. New listing."

“Cool.” 

Yeonjun's ear ticked. 

You were almost certain Chan didn’t catch it, but you did. Yeonjun was a nervous guy, even if he acted cool. You rested against his chest; and closed your eyes. Relaxing completely. It calmed him.

“Oh, yeah, also, Charlo called me on direct from the bar.”

Yeonjun threw his head back in a snorting laugh. “Charlo?! That is not a name! You made that up!” 

“Hey - Don’t be rude! It’s short for Charlotte. And it’s a perfectly nice nickname!”

The two of them were being rather loud.

“Alright.” Yeonjun snickered sarcastically. “So - this Charlo - she called you? I should care, why? Never heard that name before.”

Yeonjun was having one of his moments. 

You had noticed the Cheetah’s head whip around as soon as it was said from across the floor, but she was smart enough to keep her head down to buss the table. You prodded Yeonjun, pointing and nodding in her direction.

“Ah,” Yeonjun mumbled. “Charlo… the Cheetah… Fuck."

The waitress. Of course, it would be the waitress. The hybrid waitress. The hybrid waitress called Charlo the Cheetah, that would report on his ass.

“What have I told you about getting handsy in my diner, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun snorted, laughing with his belly as his head rolled back on the seat. Chan was entirely serious and you flushed cold like an ice bucket had been dunked over you.

"Aish -" He pressed air from between his teeth in humerus. "Relax old man -"

"It's disgusting."

"So's another man's jealousy."

"Ah no-" Bangchan looked distressed, disgusted even, and shook his head. "Far from jealous. At least tell me you washed your hands first?"

A pause… and then… silence. 

You were positively embarrassed.

"You're disgusting."

"And you're a saint?" Yeonjun purred, shit-eating fox grin pearly white and cockily on display. Ears back in a playful display, tail happily curled.

The fox was enjoying this. 

"Seriously June. People eat here." The older guy started; voice low and fatigued. But he seemed somewhat amused, and you guessed it took a special kind of figure to correct Yeonjun and get through to that crafty head of his.

No one in the immediate area even batted an eye at your table being extremely loud. Which was curious. Odd, even. It made you pause, and strain your ears. But nothing was out of sorts.

"So you're telling me that I can kill a man on this table, but I can't make my girl cum after a good meal?"

KILL A MAN. 

Bangchan's eyebrow raised and you froze solid in your seat. He seemed fed up. You didn't blame him; Junnie was exhausting.

You flew to see Yeonjun's expression, your heart pounding. He was cool and calm. At the terror on your face, he softened. Cracking his mask for a split second to soothe you. But he couldn’t comfort you here, in front of Bangchan. His irises softening would have to be enough.

Your head was spinning.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying, funny enough. Don't let me catch you doing it again, Wilde."

"Or what, Daddy?" Yeonjun taunted, canines flashing as he bit the tip of his tongue with a grin.

Chan gave the younger man a sharp expression.  "You know what. I gotta go - stay out of trouble kids."

“One thing you should know about Soobin -” Yeonjun grunted, as he reached inside his jacket to pull out his wallet and start ass-shuffling out of the booth, gently patting your behind along and above the seat to make room for him to get up.

“Is that he tends to get a little protective when he likes something.” Yeonjun shrugged, standing upright. 

He flicked open his wallet to pop yet another cigarette into his mouth, but it remained unlit. 

“Sometimes you just gotta remind him you aren’t about to run away. Like his favourite treat being taken to some forbidden locked up cage somewhere. He’s… scared of that happening. But something tells me you’ll calm him down.”

You took the fox's outreached hand, sticking like gum to his side as you linked into his elbow. Yeonjun swiped backwards the hairs hanging in front of your eyes and placed a kiss on the crown of your head.

“He is a dog after all. Don’t take it to heart love. He just felt Kai was disrespectful."

He smoothed the back of your skirt like a gentleman as you exited the booth - before he squeezed your ass with a wink and a whistle. 

Yeonjun walked with you to the bar, placing some money and what looked like a hefty tip on the side, before proceeding to walk you both out to a slightly less irritated Soobin than the one who had run out of the diner. 

Chan was a few strides ahead, clearly walking away from an exchange. 

Soobin was smoking. Sat on the hood of his car. You could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk, because he only smoked when he was bothered by something. 

“D’you think he’ll mind if I catch a ride?” Yeonjun mumbled, whispered into your hair with humour as he squeezed your side into him. “Gotta take this pretty girl back to the dig.” You giggled, appreciative that he was taking the time to calm your nerves. 

The sun was hanging low in the summer sky. Having checked the diner clock before leaving it was currently 9:05 in the evening. Soobin had driven up from the underground parking until he was right outside. It was cooler now than when you had chosen the mini skirt. You shuffled closer to him for warmth.

You shrugged. “I can ask?” 

You were too cute. Yeonjun shook his head, pinching his eyes at you with an accompanying smile. “Just playing doll. We live together, remember?”

Yeonjun's hands lay heavy on your waist as he walked you up to the car. He could feel the excitement in your nerves like a small electric shock.

As you both approached, Yeonjun lifted his chin to his friend. 

“You good?”

To which Soobin nodded back. 

He was a little moody. Slouching, arms crossed, sitting on the hood of his car, puffing with a scowl. But he was considerate enough to exhale the large heave of smoke, far above your head.

“Fine.” The dog grumbled, clearly irritated by the tone in his voice.

“You sure about that?” Yeonjun sang in an amused manner.

Soobin lifted his lip to reveal his gums with a belly-deep growl. The message was to ‘leave it alone’. 

“Fine man, if you say so.” Yeonjun chuckled to himself under his breath, the two of you now profile to profile with Soobin and the car.

When Yeonjun had stopped walking - retracting his palms to his pockets, appearing bored and unbothered to not provoke his friend - you kept going. 

Your heels shuffled forward until both knees drew up between the legs of the casually sat Doberman. 

He straightened upon your approach. Peering down at you. You reached for his shoulders and placed a kiss on his cheek. Which Soobin graciously dipped to accept. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” He mumbled, softer than before, when his attention was directed towards Yeonjun. 

“Hi.” You offered back, happily.

Soobin was looking at you with such enamoured eyes. Ones reserved for love. Gentleness. 

“I’m not going to run away from you, you know?” You offered again, quietly. Still a smile on the way you spoke. Soft. “I offered to try this out with you, and I’m still here, and I’ll be here for as long as I can be.”

Yeonjun's ears quirked as he leaned against the door of the car beside both of you. Touched that you had listened. It moved something in his chest. His stomach. It ached, in a good way. 

Maybe the advice he had given to someone else, was the one he needed to hear the most.

Soobin’s brows fluttered as he processed what you meant. He watched your face for signs of distrust. Before he released the tension in his body and acceptance flooded over his face. He uncurled the hand from under his armpit to rest on your lower back.

“I know. Thank you.” 

You exchanged a nod. And fell into him. Into a real, loving embrace. The air was chilly, and you were thankful for his body heat.

“Still anxious?” Soobin mumbled against your cheek. “I’m surprised. You seem to have attached pretty quickly to Jun.”

You blinked. “You - you can tell?” 

“That you’re still anxious?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course.” Soobin ran his nose over your cheek with a rumbling chuckle. “Your heart hasn’t stopped thundering since we got out of the car. And your scent is - well the only way I can describe it right now is sour. It’s not like that when you’re… not upset.” 

“I smell like something sour? When I’m anxious?”

“You smell like a sour cherry, to be exact.” Yeonjun pointed out. Newly puffed tobacco smoke hanging around his frame. “And not the candied kind.”

"It's a weaker smell," Soobin confirmed. "But it's sharper. More nose-catching than when you're happy."

You hummed in thought.

“Well, what is it when I’m happy?”

“Hmm, cream and cherry pie?” Soobin questioned his friend with a smile in his tone. Yeonjun nodded and heaved a smokey inhale.

“Angry?”

“That one’s tough.” Soobin looked around in thought. "Hot. Like a hot, bitter winter wine. Burns the nose, unlike sour."

You laughed.

"Okay. What about horny?"

"Cherry Sundae," Yeonjun answered quickly for that one. You raised your eyebrows and he shrugged. "It's so sweet and heavy that the entire diner smelt like you on the way out. Probably will do ‘til opening time tomorrow morning."

"But then - there were other hybrids in there - why didn't they say anything?"

Yeonjun looked at Soobin. And Soobin grumbled low, pointed words into your ear.

"Because you're with us. And they wouldn't dare."

"And - it doesn't give you a headache? If it's so sweet?"

Soobin threw his head back in a gentle laugh.

"No, Y/N. It's a natural aphrodisiac."

"It's… addicting." Yeonjun murmured. Almost… ashamed of his infatuation, with ears tilting down as he thought on it.

But you got the point. And made a small oh sound of acknowledgement before shaking it off.

“So -” You giggled, gesturing towards his unreasonably-flashy-for-a-young-guy American muscle car; “How the hell did you end up owning something like this? Knowing people like Bangchan? It's a little odd. I thought you worked at another office, but then… How'd you afford to live like this?”

Soobin smiled. And squinted at you with deep dimples. His hand moved to rest on the car behind him as he leaned forward, and over you ever so slightly, to breathe against your neck. Your lungs stayed empty as you got stuck on an exhale, unsure as to what he would say. Missing Yeonjun's shifty eyes, before looking around and nodding to his friend.

“I work in higher places than you’d ever expect, our clever little fawn.” 

His lips pressed to your neck and your heart fluttered, falling into him as his hand pushed on your lower back. 

"Suppose there's no harm in telling you now. Breathe."

Your hands rested on either of his shoulders, consumed completely by his deep musk and wood smell. You felt like prey being cared for before being swallowed. Gasping air upon instruction. It was becoming a habit to wait.

You reached to bury your face into his scent; shaking in delight from your scalp to your toes when your nose hit his collarbone.

“Yeonjun is my sales guy. Like you said before. Gyu deals with code. Fucking nerd.”

Another kiss was placed on your neck. Suckling lightly with those perfect lips; making you lean into him more. You would think a mention of your sick 'boyfriend' would strike guilt, but your head was swimming. Breathing him in like a drug.

He was fucking addicting. And you were starting to understand what Yeonjun meant. Soobin's musk became much heavier and sweeter like tree syrup. 

“Terry’s in charge of legal. Kai’s our friend, but he’s mostly there for looks.”

He pulled away to smoke some more and puff the smoke over your head. He squeezed your ass, harshly, in one large palm, and a soft moan fell from your lips. A gift to Soobin. 

“But don’t worry - as long as you’re around at least one of us, or the hybrids we trust, in the right spots, you’ll be safe. We don’t want to get you mixed into any shady business.”

Your mind flashed to every mafia or yakuza scene ever. 'Stay with us you'll be safe', only for their safety to be more hurt than when they weren't involved.

"So - you're saying I might be watched? That you're part of a gang, or what?! I don't know if I'm into men that hurt women! Or people! Children…!!" 

Soobin kissed his teeth.

"I don't take joy in hurting others. And we don't get our hands dirty in that kind of business." 

He was… amused. 

This interaction seemed amusing to him.

"I can't say you won't have eyes on you; but you're our pet now, so it's in our nature to be protective. NOT controlling."

Soobin's lip lifted over his gum in a houndish grin, and he pressed you into his crotch as he grumbled into your ear. 

"Not that we would let you out with us anywhere without our scent plastered inside and all over you, on any given day now, anyways.” 

His breath was ticklish and you loved his open laugh as his gums pressed against your cheek as he held you tight. 

You knew Soobin. Knew he was speaking out of love, despite his harsh and rugged tone. You felt safe. 

So ultimately you laughed also; drunk on attention, and shaking your head. Even the shy Yeonjun smiled fondly.

Between the big dogs' legs. In public again. Being babied between two capable men. Short skirt scrunched between Soobin's knuckles, and his ears pointed down at you; you were warmed with love.

“Shady business then, hmm?” You repeated in a tight whisper. Eyes wide and shining up at him. “But - you’re wearing jeans!” You argued; as if dirty clothing and judging his appearance outright meant you knew anything about him. "I've never seen a high-end criminal in blue wash denim!"

Soobin puffed an exhale of a crescent-eye smile, tongue caught in the corner of his lip. Before he dipped you to the side quickly - completely playful and in control, laughing loudly in your ear as you giggled - kissing at your pulse. You ran your nails up and against his strong, beautiful neck and into the nape of his hair on the way back up; which earned you a growl on your skin, and a squeeze against his torso. 

“You’re too cute.” Soobin appealed, laughing like chimed bells like he hadn’t just possibly revealed his connection to the business underworld.

So you turned your pout to Yeonjun for more answers.

You caught him staring in admiration; ears dipped to the side and eyes hooded with the corners of his mouth tilted upwards; back against the car, arms crossed easily on his chest. He perked up once he realised you were looking; fumbling out some more smokes and touching his pockets as if checking whether something hadn't been forgotten, or left behind.

"Come on ~" You frowned, pouted even, coming to know how much he barked for it. "You have to give me some info before you fuck me? I deserve that much!!"

Soobin had, at this point, enveloped you. Lips busy kissing, licking, nibbling at the expanse of your throat. Your hands curled into his shoulders. Ears hot and moans soft at an exhale. He was so warm, it was heavenly. 

Or maybe that was just the post-orgasm, baby-girlness talking. But - it felt like the heat was coming from under your skin.

Both were fine. Both were good.

Yeonjun met your pout and whine with a raised eyebrow shake of his head. Scolding your curiosity with a mere kissing of his teeth. 

But of course, he would spill. He was too easy.

“Nothing you want to be involved with, angel.” He mumbled in a low, almost solemn voice. “Tax evasion type shit. But we don't deal with dirty money. No repercussions for anyone apart from ourselves when we get caught." 

The fox squinted. You were small but unshaken. So he continued.

"I mean, to be honest, a lot of people you know are probably involved. A certain Jaemin comes to mind - hope he loves the new wheels by the way. Heard one of them sold?"

You laughed at Yeonjun's raised eyebrows. He had slipped into his faux persona.

"I have no idea Junnie." He softened; trusting your shrug, watching as you thread your hands through Soobin's hair as he palmed at your ass. 

"He was very specific when he asked for one of the cars. I don't know if he was feeling sketched out by the deal or what. You'd know better if he's your friend?"

"Oh?" You quipped, amused.

"Yeah - he wanted it a specific red. Like… a race car. One from a movie. With decals all over it. Was specific with the no white-rim wheels. Weird guy, but I liked him. You should invite him to hang out with us."

"It was a nice red Jun, you did a good job." 

Yeonjun scoffed. "So you really had no idea?" 

You shrugged. "I had my suspicions as a friend, but never would have guessed."

"I'm sure you've got - mph - questions?" Soobin moaned between biting up your shoulder.

"I guess… I didn't realise you had been keeping tabs on me. But then again, I guess it comes with the territory…"

Of which, you meant dating Beomgyu. Their inner circle friend and participant of said crime group. It made sense.

"Mhm," Yeonjun confirmed, smile tight-lipped and amused. He took another drag. "I’m surprised a clever doll like you hadn’t figured it out. The cats in love with you. We protect the things we love. And you had no idea you were being surveilled?”

“I didn’t know.” You confirmed once more, unsure what or how loud to say it to make him believe you. “Sounds like you guys have got it down to a T, though?”

"Got what down to a T, doll?" 

"I don't know - everything!"

Yeonjun simply nodded. Shying away as his friend and newly revealed business partner gave a sharp and piercing warning gaze from behind your neck.

That seemed to be all you would be getting from the fox. He retreated from the conversation abruptly with a pout and distant mind; busying himself with flicking open his lighter for the umpteenth cigarette today. 

He didn’t look sad, but talking about it seemed to bother him. Like a task he would worry about later. Though you weren’t sure when later was, or could be.

Soobin tugged at your earlobe with delicate precision; canines making you moan and grip his hair. He growled softly and nudged your cheek with his nose until your attention was caught. Your nose pressed to his. Lips brushed with bated breath.

“It’s important that you don’t share any of this, pet. Not even with Gyu.” 

At first, you just laughed. But it became obvious how quickly he meant it. Your naive smile edged into danger; until he swiped the back of your thigh with an open palm. You bit your lip with a frown and a cut moan, pouting. 

"I mean it.”

You gulped, eyes shaking a little. 

Soobin softened, immediately, at the first hint of fear. The grip on your chin released dramatically, so your hair billowed softly between his fingers at your cheek. His exhale fanned over your face, before moving your head. His cheek pressed to your own to whisper low, and soft, in your ear.

“I need to hear you give your word, beautiful. That you won’t tell a soul. No matter what. What we vent about between the sheets, is just that to anyone else. Nothing but pillow talk.”

Maybe this was a little more than what you had bargained for. 

"But between us…. well. We’ll always tell you the truth."

He didn’t move, instead he waited. Knowing that eye contact would make you panic. You looked to Yeonjun for aid, heart hammering. His ears dipped into total submission. Sympathetic to those eyes he was beginning to hate to see - sad, panicked, insecure.

“You’re safe, doll.” The fox tilted his head onto his shoulder, smile genuine. “Just need your word is all. Or we leave, and forget this ever happened. Either is fine.”

But fuck it - danger tasted good on your tongue.

So you gulped your nerves and pride; leaning cheek to cheek to Soobin and voice barely a strained whisper; “I give you my word. Body and all - I’m yours. Please don’t break me. I'm ready - these two years have been so long - but I'm a little scared.” 

Soobin growled; deep and low. Moving to see your face. His hand cupped the back of your head and tilted up as he met your eyes; affected. Touched beyond words. He watched you for deceit; hesitation that would break their hearts. None was found.

How could he ever harm you? How could Yeonjun? Beomgyu? Any of them? 

The fear in your voice hinted towards past mistrust, and he would fight to break the cycle.

Your eyes fell shut at his lips pressing against your own. Hands holding his own on your face; enveloped by the softness in his movements. You never wanted to part, but had to breathe. 

“You have our word, love.” Soobin kissed your eyebrow, “You’ll be glass in our eyes, for as long as you want.”

You were touched, shying from his eyes as your heart beat like a bird in a cage. He meant it as the highest compliment; fulfilling your wish of wanting to be treated with care, at least for the time being. Not another thing to just use and break.

Soobin reached behind you for the fox’s offered half-smoked cigarette; flicking the ash behind you on the ground before taking a drag. He released his thighs and shuffled to sit more; which allowed you with ease to shuffle forward, until your cheek met his chest. And your arms wrapped around him.

It was silent for a moment. Like a small part in the cloud.

Yeonjun basked in this new, slightly sudden love. Soobin exhaled and placed a hand on your head. The wind sang, birds flapped their wings, and the constantly humming cars shuttled past on the highway not too far behind the trees. You could feel Soobin’s heart beating heavily on your cheek and felt the pull of his lungs as he inhaled, then released. It felt like everyone had air to breathe again. Yeonjun looked at peace. 

It was serene, for a little while, with everybody's guards down. 

But these moments must always end. 

“Ready?” Yeonjun prompted. Carefully, and with a guttural clearing of his throat. He opened the back door, eager to move on and away from this place. And onto the new adventure, the night promised.

“Yeah, right.” Soobin laughed. 

The tension in his shoulders was gone, and you accepted a final tight one-armed squeeze as he brushed his lips against your forehead to place a kiss. He released you to snub his cigarette into the nearby ashtray; and stood precariously at the entrance of the diner. Hands constantly making contact while he spun you the other way; hip heavy under his palms. 

“Let’s go.”

MAIN MASTERLIST /// TXT MASTERLIST /// IMAGE MASTERPOST UIHALL [FIRST IN SERIES] /// [UIHALL - PART 2.II CONTINUED]

well would you look at that: updated 5/DECEMBER/2023

[st-dorothy-minority]

"Hurt" - an emotional, angst-filled Radioapple fic

I greatly hesitate to post this. It is very, very special to me and feels more vulnerable than anything I've written. (And honestly, I may delete it at any point 😩)

I would love it if you could spare a comment if you read this and share your thoughts.

I wasn't going to finish this, but I've been seriously struggling this month myself, and it's one small thing I can contribute for Suic*de Awareness & Prevention month.

Based on the song "Hurt" by Christina Aguilera (please check that out before reading to get the full impact. Imagine the song sung by Charlie https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/christinaaguilera/hurt.html)

Dedicated to @persephoneblck - thank you for your love and support through my struggles ❤️

-----------

“Charlie, I-”

“Just don't! I can't do this anymore! For once, I wish you'd show up when others need you, when I need you!”

“But Charlie-”

“Mom was right. You don't know how to be a husband. You don't know how to be a leader. And you sure as hell don't know how to be a dad! I won't ever ask for anything from you ever again. I don't want you in my life anymore!”

As she turned her back on her father and returned to what remained of the hotel with the other residents, Lucifer felt himself quickly losing composure. Still, he made one last attempt to talk to her by calling out, “I’m proud of you, Charlie!” When she didn’t turn around, he lowered his gaze to the ground and added sorrowfully, “More than you could ever know.”

****

It was a couple hours before Alastor was able to check on his emotionally wrecked lover.

It was no surprise he found Lucifer still in the throes of depressive anguish.

Taking a seat on the floor where Lucifer sat next to the bed, Alastor placed a consoling hand on his back and rubbed it affectionately.

“We both know she didn’t mean what she said,” Alastor assured.

A few tears splashed onto the glass of the picture frame Lucifer held in his hands, which housed a photo of himself and Charlie that Vaggie had taken not long ago.

“She gets into fits of passion, like you, and ends up saying things that aren’t true,” Alastor continued when it was clear Lucifer wasn’t going to respond.

After a minute passed with more silence, Alastor gently pulled the picture away, set it aside, and took Lucifer’s now restless fingers in his hands to hold.

“Luci….No one is perfect. Mistakes happen. Hurt feelings happen. It’s a consequence of the human heart that seems to remain in us demons, including Charlie. She’s still a child with much to learn. You are doing a much better job than you give yourself credit for. Give yourselves some time to be apart for a bit. There is nothing wrong with maintaining some distance for a little while as she cools her head.”

Lucifer sniffled, wiped his eyes, and uttered pitifully, “But she’s right. All of it. I was never there when she needed me. I fucked up with Lilith….I’m a shitty, fucking failure, Alastor.”

“Now I absolutely have to disagree with you about all of that. You are trying. You are learning. You won’t get it right all the time. Let the past be the past with its wrongdoings. She’ll have to learn to do the same.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Lucifer nodded. “Yeah….I guess you’re right….Thank you.”

“Of course.” He brought Lucifer closer, placed a soft kiss against his temple, and asked, “Care to lie down? You should rest.”

“Not yet. Think I might go take a bath and try to relax.”

“Want me to join you?”

“No, I, um....I think I want to be alone tonight.”

“Are you sure?” “Yeah. Plus, you should go back to check on everyone and help with whatever they need….since she doesn’t want my help….”

“Alright then. I’ll report back tomorrow with how things are and to check on you.”

Placing a finger under Lucifer’s chin, he tilted the devil’s head up to kiss him tenderly. When they pulled away, he was content to see Lucifer smiling.

“I missed that smile,” Alastor purred, causing Lucifer to giggle.

“Funny that you never give me the chance to miss yours.”

“If it’s any consolation, you certainly bear witness to my genuine ones more than any other demon in this Hell.”

“I’ll take that,” Lucifer conceded happily.

Doting one last kiss onto Lucifer’s hand, Alastor took his leave.

****

----Five Years Later----

Clutching her phone tightly in her grasp, Charlie blinked through the tears to find the most precious contact in her list. From the moment she saw the adorable duckie profile pic and the name, the relatively quiet crying became uncontrollable sobbing.

It was approaching mid-evening, and it was tradition to conclude the horribly painful day with a call to the person she missed more than anything. The person she longed to hug again. The person she yearned to see his smiling face again.

The person she owed everything to, the one she wished to apologize over and over again to.

The one who had taken his life because of her.

It was rare that a day passed when Charlie didn’t replay the last exchange she’d had with her father and felt her stomach twist into knots and the guilt consume her from realizing how cruel and heartless her final words to him had been. To have not even acknowledged his final words to her of how proud he was of her.

Attempting to take several deep breaths, she at last touched the screen to call her dad.

She knew he would never answer, yet his voicemail (and the messages he’d left on her phone that she hadn’t deleted) was the only way to hear his voice, even if it was brief and impersonal.

Hello fellow citizen of Hell! You’ve reached the head honcho himself, Lucifer Morningstar. If you aren’t in my contacts, how the fuck did you get my number? If you are, I’ll call you back at some point. If this is Charlie, I’ll get right back to you, sweetie! If this is an emergency, well, I don’t know what to tell you other than you’re probably S.O.L. Still wanna leave a message? Be my guest!

*beep*

“….Hi dad,” Charlie began in a tiny, constricted voice. She paused briefly due to the uneven breaths attacking her, closed her eyes, inhaled deeply as best she could, and tried again. “I um….I miss you….so much. I’m so sorry for what I said and blaming you. I didn’t mean it….I was wrong….so, so wrong…..I wish you were here….I still have so many questions and….I need you….I need you, dad….I was mad, I didn’t mean it….I love you and I just want you back. I want to understand. I love you….”

She was able to end the call before the phone slipped from her hand and she hugged herself as the crushing grief overtook her.

I wish you were here….I need a hug….I’m so sorry….

She felt the presence of her new company before he even sat next to her. On the balcony of the hotel overlooking her inherited kingdom, Alastor joined her on the bench without a word. This had also become their tradition – to share the remainder of the evening together in silence with the only other person who understood more than anyone else how suffocating the loss felt. They each had very different relationships with Lucifer, but the fact remained they each loved him beyond measure.

While Charlie’s regret plagued her in the form of her last words to Lucifer, Alastor’s was rooted in having left him alone that night. If only he’d insisted on staying, denied Lucifer’s request, and remained at his side. The memory of finding the king of Hell submerged in golden-tainted water in the bathtub, his wrists and neck sliced open to the bone by the only weapon in the realm that could mortally wound him, haunted Alastor just as vividly all these years later. He could still recall Charlie’s screams of denial and sorrow when he told her what had happened, remembered how she grabbed onto him as her knees gave out and they held each other for nearly an hour, drowning out everything and everyone around them.

Once Charlie regained her composure for the most part, Alastor eased his arm across her shoulders and drew her closer to rest against him in a loving embrace. His other hand took hers and held it, and they stayed this way for hours.

Eventually, Vaggie came to help Alastor escort Charlie to bed, which Alastor appreciated because he knew Charlie would continue to be cared for during the hardest night of the year.

As for him, it was the one night he returned to Lucifer’s home and laid in the bed he’d shared with the fallen angel. He fetched Lucifer’s favorite over-sized duckie plushie to cuddle with – the one he’d always teased his lover about whenever Lucifer chose to hug it at bedtime – and breathed in deeply. The scent was fading, but it was enough to revitalize the memory.

Letting the tears fall at last, Alastor whispered, “I’m sorry I left you when you needed me most. I love you.”