#the torture saga continues

[ranger-la-criatura]

The torment continues.

When I get the Sniper plushie, all hell will break loose. >:)

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i very honestly and wholeheartedly love the fanon interpretation of emmett and bella as 'the chaos twins' and i will always need more of them™

[noweakergirl]

The new ttpd variant is so sirius dbshhasjsjsusujsjsjsjs "the black dog" THE BLACK DOG AHHHHHHHH

OMG YES I just saw it!!! It looks so cool and sounds even better.

Plus, my dog *is* black, so I'm 100% claiming this one 🥺

[firstprinced]

i’m determined to get the nerve in my right arm fucking UNPINCHED but thus i can’t do anything with it. no scrolling fics no sudoku no free night JOY i’m breaking down

[wanderingwolpertinger]

I hate linkedin

[buckets-and-trees]

Warm Shadows - The Dawn Has Come [double epilogue]

Collection: Warm Shadows Chapter Title: The Dawn Has Come Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader x Alpha!Steve Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: The aftermath - and the happily ever after? An epilogue with two distinct parts befitting the journey with the two alphas.

Content Warnings: omegaverse: heat and ruts, manipulating bonding marks; explicit smut: oral (m receiving), clitoral fingering, breastplay, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, breeding kink, breeding

Additional Notes: My offering for the fourth week of Chris-Mas is the epilogue to finally bring the Warm Shadows saga to a close on the ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY from when I posted the first chapter! This is also filling my October prompt for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo with an appearance from our dear Alpine!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER

It's been fifteen months since you returned to Wakanda. After the initial few weeks spent on your own while Steve and Bucky cleaned up all trace of the Captain Hydra project, your alphas returned to you weary and a little worse for wear, but unharmed overall. Waiting for them, you had done your best trying not to spiral into anxious worry.

You had put yourself to use volunteering to work in one of the schools. It was work you knew mattered, and the children were sweet, clever, precocious, and filled your days with so much to do and think about that it was a worthwhile distraction, and you went back to your living quarters blissfully tired every night. You were not a stranger to Wakanda, since you had been visiting with Bucky every year since your binding ritual, and so it wasn’t evenings of solitary loneliness night after night when you were off either - the small circle of friends you’d made over those previous visits kept you company often enough.

Even so, the reunion with your alphas had come just when you might have started to truly worry.

Keeping his promise, though, Bucky hadn’t closed off his bond to you completely like he had when you’d been taken. It was muted so he would neither worry you nor lose focus, but he and Steve both let their bonds be more open when they weren’t engaged in any specific operations.

The first full moon after they returned, Bucky and Steve had performed the ritual and sworn the blood oath to create a pack bond. It had been what Bucky had described, as beautiful as your mind had imagined, and surpassed what any of you had anticipated in elements of primal nature and magic combining to transform your connections and their power as alphas. It was something so sacred to have experienced that you rarely spoke of it because there simply weren’t words. Bucky later pointed out that the lack of records around the ritual and its effects made sense.

One of the triumphs of Steve and Bucky’s “clran up” mission had been the discovery - while destroying evidence - of the notebooks the Hydra scientists had used to document Steve’s torture and conditioning. Shuri and Ayo integrated that information with what they had done before in unraveling Hydra’s grip on Bucky as the Winter Soldier, and it had been a long - an unrushed - process, but after a few months, Steve began to believe (and he was the last one convinced) that he was free. He had changed, but he was a true version of himself again. Bucky, more than anyone else, helped Steve to see that he wouldn’t have to live in the shadow of what he’d done forever - though there were times the shadows would undoubtedly - and painfully - cross his mind.

Building a new chapter of your life in Wakanda, you had continued your work at the school. Steve had gone back to art and drawing. Shuri drew him in for opinions on political matters once or twice, then more and more often, until she had effectively enlisted him as an outside consultant on foreign policy. And Bucky, well, he had found his place once again in Wakanda's science research lab, but with more responsibility and working in actual partnership on bigger projects since the three of you were staying for longer.

You also relentlessly teased your alphas for their love of farming. They tended to a small pack of goats. But you didn’t complain when you watched them undertaking some of the more laborious tasks that required muscle.

Over a year, you really had carved out a life that worked for the three of you to figure out your relationship.

As dinner time approached, you and Steve were busy preparing a meal together in the kitchen of your small cottage. It was something that had become almost ritualistic for the two of you. Cooking together had become one of your favorite ways to spend time with each other.

"Did you remember to pick up some more herbs from the market?" Steve asks as he sets a pot on the stove.

You nod, setting down the cutting board with chopped vegetables. "Yeah, I got them this morning."

"Great," he smiles at you before turning back to his task.

You can’t help but smile too as you watch him work. This simple domestic life was its own healing balm.

You don’t hear Bucky come in, but Bucky’s arrival is announced by Alpine, who greeted him immediately at the door with a barrage of meows, chatting away at her favorite human. You and Steve don’t take it personally as she still doles out a bit of affection to you two as well.

He enters the kitchen carrying Alpine in the crook of his arm, scratching her head with his other hand. “Smells delicious in here,” he says, happily.

"Hey Buck," you smile and pull him close for a quick kiss.

"How was your day?" Steve asks.

"It was good," Bucky replies. "I spent most of it in the lab."

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, and the two of you exchange a look. Bucky usually likes to excitedly launch into some new development or bemoan a roadblock but with ideas of how he already wants to tweak his approach for the next day.

"What were you working on?" Steve presses further.

Bucky shrugs. "Just more tests on the vibranium alloys. Nothing too exciting."

You and Steve exchange another glance, sensing there's something Bucky isn't telling you, but silently agree not to push. If it's important, he'll tell you when he's ready.

"Well, dinner will be ready soon," you say. "Why don't you go wash up?"

Bucky nods, setting Alpine down gently. "Sounds good. I'll be right back."

As he leaves the kitchen, you turn to Steve.

"He seems off," Steve says quietly.

"Yeah. He didn't seem upset, just... distracted maybe?"

"Well, let's just keep an eye on him tonight," Steve suggests. "If something's truly bothering him, we’ll feel it.”

You nod in agreement with Steve, turning back to the stove to stir the simmering pot. The rich aroma of herbs and spices fills the kitchen, mingling with the comforting scents of the home you’ve built with your alphas.

Bucky returns a few minutes later, his hair damp from a quick shower. He moves to help set the table, falling into the familiar rhythm of your shared domestic life. As you bring the food to the table, you can't help but notice the slight tension in Bucky's shoulders, the way his eyes seem to flicker between you and Steve more frequently than usual.

Dinner conversation flows easily enough, with Steve recounting a particularly amusing incident from his day meeting with M’Baku in the mountain fortress of the Jabari. You chime in with stories from the school, delighting in the way both your alphas' eyes light up when you talk about your students' progress. Bucky listens attentively, but he remains more subdued.

He responds when spoken to, but doesn't engage in his usual animated conversation. You and Steve keep exchanging glances, your worry growing as the meal progresses.

As you're clearing the dishes, Bucky suddenly speaks up. "I have something I need to tell you both."

You and Steve freeze, turning to look at him. Your heart races, anxiety creeping in at his serious tone.

"What is it, Buck?" Steve asks, his voice calm but laced with concern.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognize as a sign of his nervousness. "I've been thinking about this for a while now, and... well, I think it's time we consider going back."

Steve's brow furrows, and you feel your heart skip a beat. "Going back?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky nods, his steel-blue eyes moving between you and Steve. "To New York," he clarifies, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You exchange a glance with Steve, surprise and confusion evident on both your faces. Bucky takes a deep breath, his metal hand absently stroking Alpine, who has curled up in his lap. "Shuri approached me today with an interesting proposition," he begins, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "She's been working on plans for Wakanda's next International Outreach Center, and she's decided to open it in New York."

You lean forward, intrigued. "New York?”

Bucky nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, in Brooklyn actually. And she's offered me a spot to work on the science and technology team there."

Steve's eyes widen. "Buck, that's amazing," he says, his voice filled with pride.

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you - excitement, anxiety, hope. "When would this be happening?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. "Not for a few months yet. There's still a lot of planning and preparation to be done. But," he pauses, his eyes meeting yours, then Steve's, "I wanted to talk to you both about it first. This obviously isn't just my decision to make."

Steve leans back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought, so you take the lead on pushing the conversation forward. "It's a big step," you say slowly. "We've built a lot here, and Wakanda is incredible, but… I do miss our other home.”

Bucky squeezes your hand. “Me, too.”

“And Mexican food and pizza,” you add.

He laughs, and Steve smiles.

Then you look at Steve, studying his face, probing at the bond between you. “What do you have tucked away that you haven’t told us?” you ask, realizing for the last couple of days he’s been projecting perhaps too much of a business-as-normal attitude.

“Okay, fine, I might have my own proposition from Shuri as well,” he admits.

“And?” you push, Bucky sitting up straighter in his chair.

“She wants to open official diplomatic relationships with a handful of countries - the US being one of them - and wants to request me as ambassador.”

You and Bucky stare at Steve in stunned silence for a moment.

"Ambassador?" Bucky finally says, his voice a mix of surprise and enthusiasm. "Steve, that's incredible."

"It really is!” you chime in just as excitedly, your mind racing with the implications. “We have every confidence in you, but are you ready for that kind of public role again?"

Steve takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. "I've been thinking about it a lot. And I think I am. It's not the same as being Captain America - it's not about being a symbol or a hero. It's about building bridges, fostering understanding. I think... I think I could do some real good."

Bucky reaches out, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You could, punk. You absolutely could."

You feel a swell of emotion in your chest, pride and love for both your alphas mingling with a hint of uncertainty.

“How long have you been sitting on this?" Bucky asks.

Steve has the grace to look a bit sheepish. "She only approached me officially yesterday, but we've been discussing the possibility for a few weeks now."

Bucky turns his eyes back to you - they both do - and he tugs on your hand to bring you back to the present. “What’s on your mind, Omega?”

You chew on your bottom lip before voicing the thought in your head. “Positions to ship both of you back off to the United States… do you think Shuri’s politely trying to kick us out?”

Steve leans in, a wry grin on his face. “Kick us out? Can’t you see what she’s doing?”

“What?”

Bucky chuckles and joins in, "She's clearly giving us undeniable reasons to go home."

“But why?”

The two alphas exchange a knowing look before bursting into laughter. “Really, sweetheart?” Steve asks.

Bucky’s tone is teasing as he adds, “Do you not also have some news to share with us?”

Your brow furrows. “What do you two know that I don’t?”

Your two alphas exchange another look, then turn their eyes back on you.

“Omega,” Bucky starts, his voice now serious, “your scent changed in the days after you took our knots in your last heat.”

“We’re certain you’re pregnant,” Steve finishes.

You gasp, the words taking a moment to fully register in your mind before your hand moves to your stomach. "Pregnant?" you repeat, disbelief and excitement swirling inside you.

FIVE WEEKS EARLIER

You wake with a gasp, your body trembling with need. Sweat beads on your skin as waves of heat roll through you, igniting every nerve ending. Your nightgown clings to your damp skin as you writhe on the bed, seeking friction against the sheets.

"Steve... Bucky..." you moan, your voice thick with desire.

The room is still dark, the first hints of dawn barely peeking through the curtains. But your alphas are instantly alert, their enhanced senses picking up on your distress and arousal.

"Omega," Bucky's voice is a low rumble as he rolls towards you, his metal arm cool against your fevered skin. "We've got you."

Steve presses against your other side, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. "What do you need?" he asks.

Steve's hand cups your breast through the thin fabric of your nightgown, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. You arch into his touch, a needy whimper escaping your lips. "Please," you gasp, your body burning with desire. "Need you both."

Bucky's metal hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "We're here, ‘mega," he murmurs, his voice husky with want. "We'll take care of you."

Your heats come once each season, good regularity for an omega, but with alphas only falling into rut once or twice a year, this is the first time the three of you have cycled together, both of your alphas finally syncing to you.

Steve's fingers find the hem of your nightgown, slowly inching it up your thighs. "Always so beautiful," he breathes, his eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you.

You writhe between them, desperate for more contact. Your skin feels too tight, too hot, and you need their touch like you need air to breathe. "Alpha," you moan, not even sure which one you're calling for – you need them both equally.

Your skin feels like it's on fire, every brush of their hands sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The familiar ache of heat pulses deep in your core, your body preparing itself to be claimed by your alphas.

Bucky captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue explores your mouth. Steve's hand slips between your thighs, finding you already wet and ready. You gasp into Bucky's mouth as Steve's fingers circle your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So wet for us already," Steve murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You break away from Bucky's kiss, panting. "Please," you whimper, your hips bucking against Steve's hand. "Need you inside me."

Bucky's metal hand trails down your body, cool against your feverish skin. He gently pushes your nightgown up, exposing more of your heated flesh to the cool air of the room. Steve helps you sit up just enough to pull the garment over your head, leaving you bare between them.

The cool air of the room kisses your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation. Bucky's metal hand trails down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Steve's fingers trace patterns on your inner thigh, inching closer to where you need them most.

"You're gorgeous like this," Bucky says, his voice low and husky. Steve hums in agreement, his eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you.

They’ve both been on the cusp of their ruts for the past few days, waiting for your heat to break, and you can smell the pleased anticipation positively rolling off them now.

You writhe between them. "Please," you pout, your body burning with need. "I need you both."

Steve captures your lips in a searing kiss as Bucky's metal fingers find your slick folds. You gasp into Steve's mouth as Bucky slowly slides two fingers inside you, stretching you deliciously.

“This cunt is crying for her alphas’ knots, isn’t it?” Bucky asks.

You nod frantically, beyond words as pleasure courses through you. Steve breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as Bucky's fingers work inside you.

"Tell us what you need, Omega," Steve whispers against your skin.

"You," you gasp. "Both of you. Please, I need to feel you both inside me."

Bucky growls low in his throat, his fingers withdrawing from you. You whimper at the loss, but then Steve is lifting you, positioning you over his hard length. You sink down onto him with a moan of relief, feeling deliciously full. He lays back, pulling you along with him.

"That's it, sweetheart," Steve breathes, his hands gripping your hips. "Take what you need."

You begin to move, rocking against Steve as Bucky watches with hungry eyes. After a few moments, Bucky moves to kneel next to your head. Without a word, you turn your head to take his cock into your mouth.

The room fills with the sounds of pleasure - skin against skin, breathless moans and whispered endearments. You rock your hips, taking Steve deeper inside you as you work Bucky with your mouth. Their scents surround you, pine and metal mingling with the heady aroma of your shared arousal.

Steve's hands remain on your hips, guiding your movements as you ride him. Bucky's metal hand tangles in your hair, not forcing but encouraging as you take him deeper. The dual sensations of being filled by both your alphas sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"So perfect for us," Steve groans, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

Bucky's flesh hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your stretched lips. "Look at you, taking us both so well," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You moan around Bucky's length, the vibrations making him groan. The praise from your alphas sends a thrill through you, spurring you on. You rock your hips faster, chasing your pleasure as you take them both deeper.

Steve's hands tighten on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh in a way that's sure to leave marks. The thought of being marked by your alpha only heightens your arousal.

The dual sensations of Steve inside you and Bucky in your mouth are overwhelming. Heat coils tighter in your core with each thrust, each stroke. You can feel yourself getting close, teetering on the edge of bliss.

"That's it, Omega," Steve growls, his voice strained with pleasure. "Come for us. Let us feel you."

You work your fingers against Steve’s bonding mark, and he groans in a primal way. “Omega, don’t - you don’t know - “ he warns.

But you suspect what will happen if you tease and torture the place where finally you claimed him back. You’re tired of Steve holding back, and you want to trigger the true primal alpha side you know he’s still keeping behind walls of restraint, shame, and worry.

Your heat makes you more desperate, but also brings you closer to your base instincts. You know what you want, what you crave, what you need, and you know how to get it.

And so you keep stroking, pushing, probing. Bucky watches you, inclining his head slightly - silently asking if you’re sure of what you’re doing, and you nod even as Steve’s body starts to shake beneath you and his thrusts become more erratic. Bucky nods and pulls out of your mouth.

In a swift motion, you bite Steve’s mark anew, and he shouts, and snaps - you feel it through your connection, and you preen in triumph, but only for a fraction of a second because Steve’s immediately flipping you over. Without pause, he continues to fuck you, your legs spread wide for him now.

"You want a wild alpha fucking you?" Steve growls, his eyes dark with primal desire.

“Yes,” you moan, raking your fingers down his chest as you feel the knot at the base of his cock start to swell and move into your slick, desperate channel.

Steve's thrusts become more powerful, more frantic. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider as he drives into you. With his knot growing inside of you, he can only rut, but his angle, the thickness of his length, the rubbing of the knot is perfection.

Bucky moves down to kneel next to Steve, his metal hand gripping Steve's shoulder. "Easy, punk," he murmurs, but there's a hint of arousal in his voice. "Don't break our Omega."

Steve snarls in response, but his thrusts slow slightly, becoming more controlled yet no less intense. You whimper at the change in pace, your body trembling with need. "Please," you gasp, "don't stop."

Steve's eyes lock with yours, dark with desire and something wilder. "Never," he growls, his hips snapping forward.

Bucky's metal hand slides down your body, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. You cry out as he begins to circle it with expert precision, the dual sensations of Steve's thrusts and Bucky's touch pushing you closer to the edge.

"That's it, Omega," Bucky murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go for us."

Steve's knot swells further, catching on your rim with each thrust. The stretch is delicious, bordering on too much but not quite. You arch your back, chasing the sensation.

"Gonna fill you up," Steve pants, his voice rough with need. "Breed you full of our pups."

His words send a jolt of pleasure through you. "Yes," you moan, "please, Alpha. Want your pups."

Bucky growls low in his throat, his fingers working faster against your clit. "You’ll take our knots until you’re bulging for us, so full of our cum.”

You nod frantically, beyond words as pleasure builds within you. Steve's thrusts become more erratic, his knot swelling to its full size. With one final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his knot locking you together as he begins to pulse his release.

The sensation of being filled, stretched, and knotted pushes you over the edge. You cry out as your orgasm washes over you, your body clenching around

Steve's knot. Your vision goes white at the edges as pleasure courses through every nerve ending. Steve collapses on top of you, his body shuddering with aftershocks.

Bucky's metal hand continues to work your sensitive bundle of nerves, prolonging your orgasm. You writhe beneath Steve, overwhelmed by sensation. Steve nips and licks at the top of your chest while he’s locked inside of you.

As your orgasm subsides, you lay panting beneath Steve, his weight a comforting presence. Bucky's metal hand moves to stroke your hair, soothing you as you come down from your high.

"You okay, Omega?" Bucky asks softly, his eyes searching your face.

You nod, still catching your breath. "More than okay," you manage to say, a blissful smile spreading across your face.

Steve lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. There's a mix of emotions in his gaze - love, desire, and a hint of concern. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, his voice low.

You shake your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. "No, Steve. I wanted the Alpha side you’ve been holding back from me." You pull him down for a tender kiss, pouring all your love and reassurance into it.

As you break the kiss, you turn to Bucky. “Give me your cock, Alpha.”

He laughs. “You’re already full of cock, greedy girl.”

“Only one hole. I want more,” you whine.

Bucky's eyes darken with desire at your words. "You sure you can handle more, Omega?"

You nod eagerly, licking your lips as you eye his hard length. "Please, Alpha. Need to taste you."

Steve shifts slightly, careful not to pull on his knot, allowing you better access to Bucky. Bucky moves closer, positioning himself so you can reach him without straining.

You open your mouth, inviting him in. Bucky groans as he slides his cock between your lips, the taste of him exploding on your tongue. You moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder.

"That's it," Bucky murmurs, his metal hand coming to cup your cheek. "Take what you need."

You work him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip before taking him deeper. Steve watches with dark eyes, his hips making small, involuntary thrusts as his knot keeps you joined.

The room fills with the sounds of pleasure - Bucky's low groans, Steve's panting breaths, and your muffled moans. The scent of sex and arousal hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the unique scents of your alphas.

"So good for us," Bucky praises, his voice rough with desire.

Steve's hand finds your breast, kneading gently. The sensations of Steve's knot locked inside you, Bucky's cock in your mouth, and Steve’s kneading hand send waves of pleasure through your body.

Your heat simmers just below the surface, temporarily sated but far from over. You can feel it building again, a slow burn that promises to consume you once more. But for now, you focus on the taste of Bucky on your tongue, the weight of Steve inside you, the scent of your alphas surrounding you.

You want more of Bucky - more thrusting, faster, rougher - but you know he won’t give it to you right now. He’s content and determined to wait so he can knot and fill you as soon as Steve’s knot goes down. And you want him to fill you up, too.

Bucky's metal hand cups your cheek gently as you continue to work him with your mouth. His flesh hand strokes through your hair, the tender gesture contrasting with the raw desire in his eyes. You can feel his restraint, the way he's holding back from thrusting too hard.

"That's it, ‘mega," he murmurs, his voice strained. "You're doing so well."

Steve's knot is still firmly lodged inside you, but you can feel it starting to soften ever so slightly. His hand continues to knead your breast, occasionally pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

Steve's knot finally softens enough for him to slip out of you. You whimper at the loss, feeling empty and needy. But Bucky doesn’t make you wait. He’s immediately pulling out of your mouth, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. Moving in sync as only they could with their history in and out of battle, Steve makes way for Bucky to take his place between your thighs.

"Get ready for my knot," he says, his voice low and husky. “It will be the one of many this weekend, and you’re going to take it eagerly every time - from both of us.”

You nod eagerly, spreading your legs wider in invitation. "Please, Alpha," you whimper, your body aching to be filled again.

With one smooth thrust, he buries himself inside you, groaning at the sensation of your slick heat enveloping him. You cry out in pleasure, your back arching off the bed.

"So wet and open for me," Bucky growls, his hips starting a punishing rhythm. "Still dripping with Steve's cum."

The thought sends a thrill through you, knowing you're filled with one alpha's seed while taking the other. Steve lays beside you. He strokes your cheek before slipping his thumb into your mouth, and you automatically close your lips around it and start to suck and moan.

Bucky's thrusts are deep and powerful, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His metal hand grips your hip, the cool metal a stark contrast to your heated skin.

“We’re gonna pass you between us, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs directly into your ear, then licks up the shell. “Keep you on our knots, fill you with our cum, make sure you’re going to swell with us after this heat.”

The thought of being passed between your alphas, filled with their cum and swelling with their pups sends a jolt of pleasure through you, makes you write eagerly for more. You moan around Steve's thumb, your hips bucking up to meet Bucky's powerful thrusts.

Bucky growls, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Gonna fill you up, Omega. Breed you full."

"That's it," Steve murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go for us, sweetheart. Show us how good we make you feel."

Bucky's thrusts become more erratic, his knot beginning to swell, and Steve decides to torture you with divine licks pressed to the base of your neck over bonding mark he gave you, heightening your heat and bringing your primal self out more as you’d done to him. You can only moan and keen and grasp at them both.

"Alpha," you gasp, your body trembling on the edge of release. "Please, I need-"

"We know what you need, Omega," Bucky growls, his hips snapping forward with increased urgency. "Gonna give it to you. Gonna fill you up so good."

Steve's hand trails down your body, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. He circles it with expert precision, adding to the overwhelming sensations. "Come for us," he demands, giving your engorged clit a pinch that triggers your orgasm, and you groan.

With one final, powerful thrust, Bucky buries himself deep inside you, his knot locking you together as he begins to pulse his release. The sensation amplifies and prolongs the intensity of your orgasm, your body clenching around Bucky's knot, trembling and gasping beneath him.

"That's it, Omega," Bucky groans, his body shuddering above you. "Take it all."

Your vision blurs at the edges as wave after wave of ecstasy courses through you.

As your orgasm begins to subside, you lay panting beneath Bucky, who collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence. You kiss him, long and hard, momentarily sated.

But then you turn your head and reach for Steve, bringing his lips to yours. You move your mouth between them, needing their kisses more than you need air, eager and ready to take them over and over again through this heat, body more insatiable than you have ever been. And you can’t imagine anything else feeling as right as this does. They’re yours.

Forever.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[bluboy404]

So when I was listening to Six Hundred Strike, all I could think about is just how overpowered Odysseus was in this so I thought of an idea that I personally like more.

I like to believe that Ares helped Odysseus. After seeing how much Athena cared about this little mortal, Ares decided to follow him around just to see why. He wants to see Odysseus make it back home to Ithaca for more bloodshed like Athena promised, but when he sees Poseidon beat Odysseus, he decides to use quick thought (or what Ares’ version is called, I genuinely can’t remember).

I feel like this explains why Odysseus ends up opening the wind bag, Ares wasn’t really thinking of the consequences and just knew Odysseus would need to to get out of the water.

I also find the wind bag jet pack to be odd, like I physically cringed watching the stream and couldn’t take it seriously, so instead I feel like wings made out of the clouds would be cool for Odysseus, specifically owl wings.

After Odysseus knocks Poseidon down, Ares leaves Odysseus mind. He thinks Odysseus will be fine to figure out how or convince Poseidon to call of the storm, what he doesn’t expect is as for Odysseus to torture Poseidon like that. He can’t tell if he should be proud or terrified because that was real rage.

Whether or not Ares continues to follow Odysseus around after is not yet decided but I feel like at one point he reveals himself to him and Odysseus is just confused on why so many Gods are watching him.

These are all my own headcanons because I absolutely love Six Hundred Strike and it’s probably my favourite song from the saga. Also I apologize if any of this is confusing, I’m really bad at explaining my thoughts and if you have questions please ask and I’ll try to answer.

[megamindsecretlair]

Runaway Lover, Part 3

Pairing: Professor!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, possession kink, all consensual. Power imbalance. Spoilers for the Red Rising Saga by Pierce Brown.

Summary: Having to see Stunna day in and day out is physical torture. So much so that you have to take matters into your hands. However, once Stunna learns that, he has an alternative to benefit you both.

Word Count: 7,193k

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: WHEW, I needed this in my life. They're so cute, I can't stand them. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Artists need it for their enrichment.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui

If there were nine circles of hell, you were most certainly in the tenth. Stunna walked in thirty minutes ago wearing a delicious black outfit. It was simple. A black polo shirt, black slacks, no show socks, and white tennis shoes. He wore a few rings, gold bracelets, and a gold necklace peeked out from his collar.

He was, in a word, completely sexy without even trying. And it was absolutely wrecking you. True to your word, you didn’t wear anything provocative. You didn’t wear dresses or skirts, just a heavy rotation of leggings and graphic T-shirts.

But you thought that he was still checking you out. That you caught little glimpses of him smirking or his eyes roving over you. 

Stunna did not keep his word, however. He continued showing up to class like he was being interviewed for television that day. All of his outfits had been cataloged thoroughly by you and likely by every other person in the class. 

The first week without him was torture beyond compare. The second week felt like your chest was getting cracked open. You saw him a few times a week and you had agreed to not text him. To not call him. And try like hell to not think about him. 

That lasted for about…two classes. Before you were running back to your dorm in the middle of the day and letting your vibrator work off some of those nasty thoughts from class. The vibrator was good but paled in comparison to the size of his massive dick. 

It couldn’t compare to his hands running over you, manhandling you, or to his filthy words whispered in your ear. You looked away from him unless he saw the look all over your face. But just like with everything else, he seemed connected to you on a deeper level.

His eyes found yours and his jaw flexed. You clenched your thighs and shifted in your seat. Catching on, Stunna cleared his throat and moved across the floor towards a podium. He got everyone’s attention.

“I hope you all did the reading assignment because I want you to break into smaller groups and share your thoughts about the latest chapters. We have enough for about three to a group, I’ll let you pick since you’re adults. But please, if you’re going to partner with friends, actually discuss something about the book,” he said. 

That caused a few giggles but your stomach only sank. You didn’t truly have friends in this class. You weren’t the type that was friendly to everyone simply because you were taking the same class.

“Wanna be my partner?” The strawberry blond girl next to you said. You were pretty sure her name was…Samantha? 

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t really. You didn’t want her to spontaneously start talking about Stunna. Sitting through his class was bad enough. But pretending like his initials weren’t sewn into your heart was another level of acting that you weren’t great at.

She had recruited someone else, a boy named Khalil that almost rivaled Stunna in good looks. He was lighter with a fade, strong jaw, and a football player build with big arms, narrow waist, and powerful legs. If you weren’t already spoken for, you’d be crushing on him. As it were, no other guy did it for you now. 

You introduced yourself formally to him and he smiled. His smile was cute. But nowhere near as devastating as Stunna. 

For the next couple of minutes, you discussed the book from the homework assignment. You talked about what you liked and didn’t like about the characters. You heard Stunna moving about the room, checking in with groups and posing challenging questions. 

You dreaded the moment he made it to your group. “What you think about using Reds as an entire labor force? Keeping them ignorant, dumb, and too stupid to see that they weren’t getting any closer to the dream?” Khalil asked.

You turned your head to him, confusion likely flitting across your face. You didn’t mean to be biased, but you hadn’t thought he’d have something intelligent to say. He was as quiet as you and you saw him doodling most of the class. 

He smirked. “I’m not all good looks,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes at the joke and shook your head. “I find it funny that a lot of these sci-fi authors can understand using people for labor is wrong, highlighting the conditions they’re under, and the sheer insidiousness of oppression, but lack any real Black people in their books.” 

“Then again, do you really want the Reds to be Black? They damn sure ain’t gonna have any Black golds,” Khalil said.

You laughed, because sadly that's the truth. The Red Rising Saga was an interesting series, but honestly, adult sci-fi writers bored you to tears. They were so stuffy and too into their own wordy prose that they lost the whimsy. The excitement of exploring a new world. 

You didn’t need to know every single soap at a market when the more interesting story was about the two main characters who had to find common ground. 

Samantha looked completely lost, turning a shade of red that you didn’t think was possible. You stared at her, wondering if she would say anything. You weren’t going to do the work for her or give her an easy out. Khalil seemed of the same mindset as he looked at her as well.

“Well, I find it extremely noble that Darrow did all of this for his love,” Samantha said. 

Coward. “Yeah but in this day and age, are we really still fridging women?” You asked. 

She was saved from answering from a delicious aroma preceding an equally delicious man. Stunna interrupted, leaning against a desk near your group. He asked what you were discussing and you finally lifted your eyes to meet his.

Huge, huge mistake. You could get lost in those eyes of his. Like sitting underneath a dark night sky looking for stars. You smiled briefly at each other before you turned your attention to Samantha who turned a darker shade of red. Seriously, you were starting to get a little worried.

“We were…um…” She faltered as Stunna looked at her. 

Again, jealousy reared its ugly head as she hemmed and hawed her way through a bullshit answer. But you saw the way that she tossed her hair back, batted her eyes. Giggled even though there wasn’t a damn thing funny about the book or your discussion.

“We were talking about the role of women in the book. How Io was fridged and even though there are other women, they are distinctly cold and calculating most of the time. In a society based heavily on Roman culture, it’s a wonder he bothered to put any women at all in it,” you said. 

Stunna leaned back, turning his attention back on you. Whoops. You should have let Samantha fumble through her answer. Or better yet, have Khalil come to her rescue. Black dudes usually did after about five minutes of second hand embarrassment. 

“I’m sure the author would have gotten flack for not including women or sending the dangerous message that women can’t perform in war games,” Stunna said. 

“I’d rather they not do it at all. That’s better than having to sit through ten pages of pining because one of the main girls followed the winning side,” you said.

Just like that, it seemed like you and Stunna were the only two in the room. He listened, which was rare, but he seemed to genuinely think about what you were saying. 

“So say you were there, fighting and trying to win the war games. What would you have done?” He asked. 

You smirked and launched into all the things you would have done differently. The war games funneled down to a rivalry between two men who got personal. War wasn’t personal. Not when one of the qualifying tasks was killing someone and being let out into the wild with the survivors of their matches. 

Stunna listened with rapt attention. You felt like beaming under it. He made you feel like the sun and your body warmed the more he asked more questions. He was clearly the more professional of the two of you, because he included Khalil and Samantha in the discussion as well. 

“Good work, this is a good group,” Stunna said. He moved on to another group, passing by you once more. You gasped as he moved as if it were a physical weight on your heart for him to go too far away from you.

Samatha sighed loudly. “He must think I’m a total idiot. You two were so prepared. And me? Ugh. ‘Um, I think I would have aligned with Darrow’,” she said, mimicking her own voice. 

“Your answers were just as good, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Khalil said. And there it was. Like clockwork. Goodness forbid she put herself down and has to live with it.

“Do you think he would even go for a student? Obviously not someone in his class, that’s wrong. But like…after?” 

Khalil laughed and shook his head. “No, I doubt he’d risk his job for something that stupid. You have thousands of appropriate guys to choose from at this school,” Khalil said. He gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe Samantha was serious. 

You smiled and shook your head. There was no way that Stunna would breathe in Samantha’s direction. Because he was already breathing in yours. Once more, you felt the weight of all that transpired in Punta Cana. 

You had no way of knowing that you were boning your teacher, that couldn’t be held against you. The second time though…you still had flashbacks of getting bent over his couch and possessed. Owned. The way he staked his claim and made sure that there were no doubts in your head. You were sprung, in the worst way, and you didn’t know if you could make it to the end of the week without him. Let alone another ten. 

Class winded down and Stunna congratulated everyone on their ideas and going deeper. Your cheeks burned. You were never going to think about anything else all day.

You had been sitting in a puddle of your own arousal since Stunna walked into the room. You needed to get to your daily sesh as soon as possible. Because the gold gleaming off of his skin was making you drool. You had already cooked up a pretty nasty fantasy in your head and you needed to get it out of your system or risk going crazy.

“I just want to remind you all that my office hours are open. Scheduling is preferred but if you need extra help, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stunna said. Oh, make that two nasty fantasies in your head.

He let class out and while you packed up your things, Khalil got your attention. “I just wanted to say that I really liked what you were talking about in class. I know people start to roll they eyes when it comes to the role of women in books, but you’re right. Darrow wouldn’t be doing half that shit if his wife was still around,” he said.

“Thank you! I just kept thinking that the entire time I was reading. Like ugh. To be fair, the way she died was horrific as shit. That’d call anyone to drastic action.” 

“See exactly! I..um,” Khalil said and licked his lips.

The class was nearly empty by now. You zipped up your bag and threw the strap over your shoulder. You were nearly bouncing with the desire to get with your vibrator. In a short amount of time, Stunna turned you into a sex fiend. Desperately chasing the high of having him inside you and soaking you with his cum. 

You tilted your head at Khalil. If he didn’t spit this shit out, you were going to run him over. 

“Is everything okay here?” Stunna asked. 

You gasped, feeling caught or exposed. You wondered if your horniness was written plain as day on your face. The way you wanted to climb him in this outfit. You could see his skinny ass ankles and now you very much understood every regency show you watched. That bit of ankle was killing you. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just talking about the book. I’ll, uh, see you later,” Khalil stammered and then disappeared so fast, there should have been smoke on his heels. 

And now you were alone with Stunna. Dangerous. Dangerous territory. 

“He seems nice,” Stunna said with a small smile. 

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, opting for a tease. You knew it was wrong. You had no reason to doubt the way Stunna felt for you. But being apart from him was killing you. You had no way of knowing if the time apart made him realize how inappropriate this was. If it was better to cancel the 12 week waiting period and move on. 

The silent gasp stole all the breath in your lungs. Thinking about not being with him instantly made you dizzy. 

“If I was? Would it change anything?” He asked. 

“No,” you said, your voice small as you looked at him. This shit sucked. It sucked, it sucked, it sucked. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw your arms around him and hug him at least. Damn. You couldn’t even touch him without risk of it leading to rumors. 

“I miss you,” he said softly. 

“I miss you,” you said. 

You stood and stared into each other’s eyes, a mirror of loneliness and wanting. 

“You don’t have to be jealous. You know that,” you said. 

Stunna ran a hand down his face, looking weary. You hated this. You hated that you couldn’t comfort him. You wanted to hold his hand and walk across the beach again. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I am. That he’d be more appropriate than I would,” he said.

You swallowed around the huge, dry lump in your throat. You didn’t want to call attention to the elephant in the room. You didn’t want to think about the end. Your anxiety leapt off with all the implications of his words. 

“Are you…saying that we…” God, you couldn’t even get the words out. Tears were already burning and you were not an easy crier. 

“No! Fuck no! Hell no!” He said. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. There were too many conflicting emotions. You needed your brain and heart to line up. Because while you were sad about a possible ending, you couldn’t help admiring the cut of his arms across his black outfit. 

“I bought a calendar to mark off the end of class. You’re mine and I meant that,” he said.

You giggled to cover up how much you were desperate to hear that from him. “Good. Because so did I,” you said. 

He laughed but it ended quickly as you went back to sharing and communicating without words. You ached to ask him what he’s been up to, what he’s been reading. You had a lifetime of his to catch up on and you wanted to know every single detail. But you didn’t have that kind of time. 

“I should probably…” You said.

“For sure. My bad,” he said. He stood up, letting you pass. You smiled at him and took a few steps, that chain connecting you two growing taut. 

“Can you come over tonight? I…miss you so fuckin’ much,” he said. 

“I can’t…” You said.

“I know. I’m sorry for asking. That's not fair,” he said. He nodded and avoided looking at you.

You sighed. You needed to walk away. You needed to think about the bigger picture. If you two slipped, even once, it would spell disaster. All it would take is one person overhearing you, one person asking too many questions, one person catching the way you two looked at each other…

Your chemistry was a physical thing. You felt it every time you looked at him or thought about him. You weren’t sure if it was the same for him. If he felt this all consuming urge to run to you and never let you go. You were sure that his feelings were strong. But how strong? 

Strong enough to survive a public scandal? He just got here. You refused to be the cause of him losing his job, ending up a national joke, or have this following him around for the rest of his career. He was just getting started. You couldn’t stand in the way of that. You wouldn’t. 

Armed with that knowledge, you had just enough self-preservation to leave the room without another word. The shit hurt, like it always did. But then again, you and pain weren’t strangers. You said hello to your old friend, letting the ache wash over you and remind you that this was for Stunna. He would always come first.

“Dammit,” you huffed. You made it one month with no physical contact from Stunna. No text messages or dirty pictures to tide you over either. Just your imagination, horniness, and ole reliable. Until ole reliable stopped working mid sesh.

 You clicked the button but the damn thing was gone. Finished. You really needed to get a rechargeable one but you would die trying to plug that thing in somewhere for a few hours. Stella and Angela would never let you live it down. 

You tossed it on your bed and tossed on the nearest bottoms, a skirt that covered what it needed to. You went looking through your room for spare batteries. You just needed a little more time. You were soaked with sweat already, feeling like the nasty girl Stunna praised in Punta Cana. 

Stunna gave a rare lecture today. Finished with one of the books on the list, he swerved into poetry. He talked about plays as well, Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe. He heard everyone’s groans, thinking Shakespeare was so high school.

But then Stunna had to go on and start reciting some of the words to Romeo and Juliet. He went on about how it really shouldn’t be taught to teenagers. Not because it was too complicated, but because teens needed to do a little growing up to appreciate Shakespeare’s words. 

There needed to be a little heartbreak before it sunk in just how much these two wanted to be together but were separated by circumstance. God. He had the entire class melting with that one. 

You especially. You felt like he was talking directly to you. The pining, the yearning of Romeo and Juliet. There was a reason that story had endured for hundreds of years. There was a reason he had to be the one to teach it. 

“There’s beauty in yearning, isn’t there? Humans love to torture themselves but never more so when it comes to matters of the heart. Unrequited love, loving the wrong person, giving in to things that you know you shouldn’t. Indulging in something so bad but it makes you feel so good. That is why poetry exists. To shine a light on these moments,” he had said and fuck, you wanted to push him down on the desk and suck the soul out of his body. 

You couldn’t get out of the classroom fast enough. Too keyed up. Too horny. Burning with the need to jump his bones but unable to do so. And now your vibrator wasn’t working and there wasn’t a damn battery in the fucking dorm. 

You searched Angela and Stella’s rooms, not finding a shiny fucking Duracell. Does no one need batteries these days? You longed for the junk drawer at home that was always good for one more battery. It was magic and you missed it. 

“Fuck,” you said. You went back to your room, leaning against the doorway. You had a very important executive decision to make. Your next class wasn’t for some time, but you didn’t have that much time. You needed to get off and had a hard time cumming with just your fingers. 

You could walk away, but then…why deny yourself that pleasure? You were already denying yourself riding the tilt-a-whirl on Stunna’s dick and you couldn’t handle these thoughts in your head any longer. 

It was a miracle you made it a month. You made sure not to linger after class anymore. You were weak. You could feel your resolve crumbling every time Stunna looked at you. Every time he spoke, joked, or engaged a different student in a friendly debate, you felt like stripping down, bending over, grabbing your ankles, and letting him have his wicked way with you. Other people in the room be damned. 

Shit. You already answered your own question. If you couldn’t have him, then you needed Little Stunna. Yes, you named your vibrator after your incredibly hot and untouchable teacher and you’d take it to your grave. 

You slipped into flip flops, grabbed your keys and wallet, and headed out of the dorm. You had time. You had time. You repeated this to yourself as you left the dorm building and headed across campus towards the bookstore.

It wasn’t the first time you’d gone commando but you felt like everyone could look at you and see what a horny pervert you were. You felt a spotlight burning into your back, broadcasting that you were just neck deep in a fantasy where you were a confused girl lost in the woods and Stunna was a half naked jungle man helping you find your way, with a pit stop on his dick. 

Listen, Brandon Fraser pretty much ruined you for all other men until Stunna came along. You watched George of the Jungle one too many times. So much so, you had the campfire song from the movie etched into your memory. 

I’ve been waiting for you all my life, hoping for a miracle

I’ve been waiting day and night, day and night

Would there ever be a moment that you didn’t relate absolutely everything back to Stunna? Probably not. 

The bookstore was clean and fresh, somehow giving off an incredible Academia aroma that couldn’t be achieved anywhere else. It smelled like learning. Like school spirit. 

It was blissfully empty and you made a beeline towards the technology section. You scanned for double A batteries, eyes lingering on other stuff. You debated if you should get another pack now or when you needed it. 

You still had three more months to go. “Fuck,” you sighed. Three more months. They might as well tell you that you really were in the tenth circle of hell. You’d believe that an eternity at college, studying the same shit over and over, and staring at your untouchable hot professor was a punishment designed particularly for you. 

Fuck it, you’d come back later when you weren’t a delicate mess at the moment. You couldn’t handle one more fucking thing…

You backed into the aisle and into someone solid. “I’m so sorry!” You screamed, turning around and staring up into Stunna’s beautiful face.

“I’m very sorry, I wasn’t looking,” he said. When it clicked that it was you he bumped into, he immediately stepped closer. His warm hands hovered around your arms like he wanted to steady you but knew he couldn’t touch you.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked. You wanted to die. He was the last person you needed to see at the moment. The absolute last.

You still had images of him in nothing but a loincloth fresh in your mind. Surrounded by dozens of animal pelts. You butterball naked and spread open for him. You rubbed your forehead. This shit wasn’t normal. 

“You don’t seem fine,” he said, lowering his voice. “What are you picking up?” 

You hid the batteries behind your back. You didn’t know if he saw them already, but best to pretend anyway. Pretend that you were here for something innocent and not because you were slutting him out in your fantasies. 

“I got a little bored in between classes and thought I might pick up a book,” you said, totally making that shit up on the fly.

“A book,” Stunna repeated.

“Yup, we are in a bookstore,” you said with a nod, to prove your point. 

“What kind of book?” He asked. He straightened up, clutching his own book to his chest absently. He smirked. You ought to have seen it for what it was and not encouragement to continue with your obvious lie.

“You know that one…mystery author I love,” you said, waving your hand around.

“Really? What’s their name, maybe I’ve heard of them,” he said. 

You looked around for help, but you were at the back of the store. The academic bookshelves were behind him and faced horizontally. You could only see the end caps from where you were and there were no leisure books listed. 

Those were all the way at the front of the store. Fuck. “Brain freeze,” you said and shrugged. You were painfully aware that you didn’t have any panties on, likely still had some of your essence between your thighs, and Stunna was right there. 

He wore a plain olive green shirt, a cream sweater, and light brown pants. Once more his ankles were exposed, and his huge shoes. He looked damn good. 

He checked you out as well, nose flaring at the skirt. He lifted an eyebrow to you. You folded your arms.

“I didn’t think I was going to bump into you. You can’t dictate my clothing choices all the time. I told you to dress like a bum,” you said. 

“I gotta stay fly. What are the batteries for?” He asked. 

Heat flooded through you, making the bookstore swelter even though air conditioning pumped out of the vents. You looked down at your folded arms and the batteries. 

“Remotes. You know, you can’t have too many backups. Those damn things are constantly going out,” you lied again. 

Stunna smirked and stepped forward. He towered over the short shelves. “What’s it really for?” He asked. He said your name and it sounded like both a plea and a demand all wrapped into one. 

“For something I don’t wanna tell you about,” you said. Your cheeks were burning and your stomach did somersaults. It would win the Olympic gold medal four events in a row if it could. 

“Why not?” He asked. He sounded so patient. So demanding. So in control that you couldn’t help the tiny sigh escaping. 

“It’s crossing our line,” you said. 

“Tell me anyway,” he said.

You couldn’t look at him as you finally said, “My vibrator ran out of juice while I was fucking myself with it,” you said. 

The heat of his gaze made your body flush. “You’ve been using a vibrator? For how long?” He asked.

Dangerous, dangerous territory. But you were tired of fighting. Of being good. “Since about the third class,” you said. 

He leaned back, running a free hand down his face. “You really thought a vibrator could replace me?” He asked.

“No! That’s why the fucking batteries are shot to hell. I’ve been using it so damn much, I could be a spokeswoman for it,” you furiously whispered. 

His eye traveled lower to your skirt and the way that you stood with your legs practically crossed. His eyes continued to move and you were starting to get nervous. What was he seeing? What was he putting together in his head? 

“Did you finish?” He asked.

“Stunna…” You warned. You already crossed so many boundaries. You were in public. You were discussing this shit in public, as if you were ready to throw your degree down the tube. Ready to throw his career down the drain before he had a chance to get started. 

“Did you finish?” He repeated, a lot slower and a lot lower. It wrecked havoc on your lower body. 

“No,” you answered. 

“Office. Meet me there in five minutes,” he said. 

He brushed past you before you could say anything else. Before you could list the ways in which this was a terrible idea. Your mind helpfully offered all the ways in which this could go wrong. You stood there for a beat too long, staring at the batteries in your hands. 

If there was a chance for the real thing…no, no, no, one of you had to be an adult about this. Had to stick firmly to your side of the line and not cross it. But you were tired. Weary. Fighting a mental battle every day as well as a physical one. You needed him. You just plain wanted him.

You still bought the batteries because you weren’t that fucking stupid.

You rushed over to his office, pretending like everything was fine. You were not on the way to do something incredibly dumb and immature. But fuck you needed him inside of you. You needed his hands on your ass. Spread open over his desk, chair, couch, or the floor. Wherever. 

You were absolutely an addict for Stunna. You could admit it now that you were on the way to do this. You didn’t know why people continued to lie and say, “It just happened”. No. There was always room for doubt. For second guessing. A moment where you had to stop and use your brain. 

You were using your brain. It was just telling you to, “Ride that dick”! In the English building, you took the elevator to the admin floor where teachers had their offices. It seemed empty, most of the offices open with the lights off. 

You still drifted until you found his office. He was seated behind his desk, looking pensive. You could leave. He didn’t have to know you were here. It was a momentary lapse. Nothing more. 

Before you could back away, Stunna looked up and caught you in the doorway. He stood up, pulling you inside. He checked the hallway before closing the door and locking it. 

“Stunna, you know we can’t…especially not in here,” you said. You widened your eyes. Tried to give voice to all the reasons you couldn’t do this. 

He didn’t respond. He just crossed the room, grabbed your face, and crashed your lips together. 

“I just want to help,” he said. He went back to kissing you, to providing you with the much needed oxygen you had been missing for the past month. 

You moaned into the kiss, dropped your keys, wallet, and batteries on his desk and then hugged him to you. You couldn’t stop your hands from roaming, searching, seeking, and re-learning his body all over again. What made him sigh, what made him hiss, what turned him on. 

You bit his lip and he gasped, moaning. His tongue played with yours. Your teeth scraped together. You never felt more complete, more whole, than standing here in his arms once more.

The month disappeared in your eyes. You were transported back to that night in his hotel room. Like no time had passed at all. You were back in his apartment, two bodies meeting each other over and over again. 

His hands went down to your skirt, but he didn’t push. He toyed with your naked ass, squeezing the globes, and fingers skirting closer and closer to the middle. You shook violently in his arms, dripping with arousal already. 

You’d have thought some ancient beast possessed you and made you a vessel of horniness. You just wanted to be filled up. Connected. 

Stunna pushed you until your butt hit the desk. You sat down and spread your legs. He spread you even further. He kissed down your neck. “You gotta be quiet,” he whispered.

Yeah, right. He kissed down your neck before dropping to his knees. He flipped your skirt up and looked his fill at your glistening pussy. He gave you a nasty wink before he dived in, licking the seam of your pussy lips before finding your clit.

You arched and gasped on his desk. One of his hands came up around your throat, trapping any sound you would make. He used his other hand to drape your leg over his shoulder, opening you up to where he could get all of you.

He suckled on your clit like a starving man. Slurped and licked every inch of your pussy. He dipped his long tongue into you, shallowly fucking you. You gripped the edge of the desk, immediately feeling like you were going to burst out of your skin.

It only took a few more licks for you to burst completely, cumming on his tongue. You made tinny, airless cries and he had to apply pressure to your throat to keep you from screaming out like you wanted. 

You shook and twitched on his desk and he continued eating you out like he wasn’t finished. On the heels of the first, you were plunging right back into a second orgasm. Or maybe this was a delayed continuation of the first. Whichever it was, you were out of breath by the time it ended.

Stunna stood up, wiping his mouth and using his tongue to get the rest off of his lips. He kissed your forehead, leaving a wet spot there that you never wanted to clean. You melted, sighing into him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Fuck, I needed that,” you said. So much better than your vibrator. 

“I needed it, too. I’m sorry I crossed our line, but that skirt…hearing you been taking care of yourself…” He bit his lip and you wanted to know what the hell he was thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve been taking care of yourself. I seem to recall some filthy words about a shower?” You asked.

“The shower, the bed, the kitchen, the table. There’s a lot of surfaces in my apartment,” he said. 

That only thrilled you. That he had been getting himself off to thoughts of you. “Not the same, huh?” You asked.

“Not at fucking all,” he said with a grin. 

“Well…you don’t have anyone coming for office hours?” You asked. You were already here. Already crossed that line. You might as well go for gold. 

“Nope,” he said, a wicked smile crossing his face. Perfect man with his perfect teeth. “We should behave though. These walls are thin as hell.”

“I can be quiet if you can,” you said. You hopped off the front of his desk. You grabbed his hand and led him around it to his side. You pushed him into his chair. He lifted one eyebrow at you, a smirk hovering on his lips. 

“What you got in mind?” He asked. 

You kissed him instead while you freed his dick from his pants. He helped you push them down enough so it wouldn’t interfere. You turned around, wiggling your ass a bit. You looked at him over your shoulder and the look he gave you….rooted you to the spot. 

You were both so deeply in love with each other. You just knew, from the crinkle in his eyes, that you were it for him. And he was it for you. 

You scooted into his lap, legs on the outside of his. You lifted up, grabbed his thick dick, and then slowly slid yourself down on it. You shared a quiet groan as he slid into place, slid right back home where he belonged.

It wasn’t the best angle for riding, but if you rode him cowgirl, you’d have to stare that love in the face. You acknowledged it, but it was still scary as hell. You used the desk to lift your ass and sit back down on his dick. 

Stunna grabbed your waist, helping you along. He cursed softly as he moved you a little faster. You meant to be the one doing most of the work, feeling only slightly guilty that you relied so heavily on his powerful legs to stroke into you. 

But he showed no signs that he was on that same wavelength. He only kissed the back of your neck, softly moaning in your ear. Wretched little sounds that drove your pleasure higher. 

Your mind sunk into a fuzzy comfort as you quickly rode him. “Perfect, fucking perfect. You’re perfect,” he stuttered in your ear.

Your pussy gripped onto him, sucking in the sheer massive size of him. He was thick, for sure, But he was thick everywhere. From the tip to the base, he had a consistent hardness that felt like you were really getting piped down. 

You bobbed on his dick as much as you were able to, both chasing an incredible high. You just needed…a little…

Stunna’s fingers moved forward, gathering up slick, and then played with your clit. His rough fingers flicked that little bundle of nerves until you were shaking and crying. He used his other hand to cover your mouth.

You tried, you really did try to stifle your moans. It was not easy. Not when every part of you wanted to let out a scream to rock the foundation of the building. You wanted to scream for everyone to hear that you were in the throes of a powerful orgasm.

Stunna cursed and then he was joining you, flooding your pussy with his cum. You would never get over the sensation of his hot, pulsing cum shooting out of him. You shivered, pussy clenching around him like it wanted to keep it all inside.

Stunna dropped kisses to your cheek and the back of your neck. “How the hell did we make it a month without this?” He whispered. 

“How the hell are we going to make it another?” You asked.

You fell into temptation. You finally made love to him again and fuck. Your fantasies were severely lacking. You needed to ramp them up. You had to build that wall back up between you. 

“You saying this becomes a monthly thing? Congrats on a month without sex, here’s some head,” he said.

You laughed softly. “I mean…” You weren’t opposed to the idea. You could hide one encounter. You could keep this off campus, at his place, like a dirty secret in the night. At this point, you had no self-respect. Not when it came to Stunna.

“No, no. We have to be good. This was…”

“Perfect,” he said. You giggled while he nibbled on your ear. Fuck, you missed him. Missed being in his arms, filled up by him. 

You wiggled your ass. “Quit playin’,” he said, injecting a level of dangerous warning in his tone. 

You wiggled your ass again. You were playing with fire, but hell, the heat never bothered you anyway.

You turned to look at him and give him a saucy wink when a knock sounded on his door. You froze.

Your heart rate jumped to a thousand beats per second, fingers glued to his thigh. Your stomach turned watery, fear unlike you’d ever felt thrumming through your veins. This was it. The moment you got caught.

You’d look back at this moment as The Moment. The Moment when your life came crashing down. You were literally caught with your teacher’s dick inside you. There was no way this wouldn’t be in the news cycle this very evening. 

You could picture the jokes. Getting Extra Credit. Oh, is that what the kids were calling it these days? A little Hot for Teacher.

Stunna’s hands went back to your waist, squeezing slightly. You looked back at him. His eyes were wide but he looked calmer than you did. He lifted a finger to his lips and you nodded. 

The knock sounded again, and then again before the silhouette in front of his door went away. Neither of you said a word for five minutes straight. 

Stunna was the first to blow a breath. “I think we’re okay,” he said.

You scrambled off of him, removing his softened dick, and then went around the desk. You needed a physical barrier between you at the moment. 

“I’m sorry–” You lifted a hand, cutting him off.

“I’m not mad, I-I’m really fucking scared,” you said.

“I know, I’d never put you through this…”

“I’m scared for you, you idiot. If they catch us, you could kiss working here goodbye. You just fucking got here,” you said. Unfortunately, there were no panties to indignantly pull up. 

You were still a bit wet with his cum dripping out. But now you were full of dread and worst case scenarios. 

“Me? Whoa, whoa, don’t worry about me,” Stunna said. 

“How could I not? I–” It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him you loved him, but you weren’t ready for that. Wasn’t sure when you would be. It was scary to love him after a short period, to look at him and know that he was your soulmate. You knew he felt similarly, but soulmate? Would that freak him out? 

Stunna stood up, stuffing his dick back in his pants. He fixed himself and came around the desk, invading your personal space. 

“I’m the one that dragged you here. I’m in the wrong. And if this were to get out, don’t you ever try to protect me,” he said.

“You get to protect me but I can’t protect you?” You asked. 

“No, that’s not the way this works. You protect yourself, always. I’ll protect you,” he said.

You laughed bitterly. “You’re so full of shit. You think I’m gonna stand there and let you take all the blame?” You asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do,” he said.

You scoffed. You grabbed your things off of his desk. “Fuck you, Stunna. I’ll be damned if you fall on the sword for me. I’m an adult. I can make up my own mind,” you said. 

“Don’t you get it? I can’t live with myself if I fucked up your degree,” Stunna said. 

“And I can’t live with myself knowing I fucked off your job,” you said quickly. “This isn’t a game, Stunna. This is your life.”

“You are my life,” he whispered. 

You reared back as if he’d yelled at you. He stepped forward, cradling your head in his hands. 

“I know it’s sudden. I know it hasn’t been a lot of time. I know I’m probably scaring you. I just need you to be okay. I’ve been able to hold it together this past month because I know that in a few months, I’ll have my life back. But not if I jeopardize this for you,” he said. 

“Then how do you think I feel? How could you think that I don’t feel the exact same way?” You asked. 

Stunna kissed you softly, like you had all the time in the world to do so. You didn’t know how long he kissed you for, only that you felt loved and cherished the longer his lips were on yours. 

“We’re just two idiots in love then,” Stunna said. 

You smiled at him, all the wonderful, gooey feelings tangled in your gut. 

“Two idiots in love.”

Need more Stunna? The Secret Big Stunna Files

Part 1 | Part 2

[corndusty]

Okay so we can all agree that, like, it’s kinda crazy that Odysseus comes and beats Poseidon up with the power of friendship and everything.

I’ve seen it said that,

The 1/4 of a god that Ody has was awoken when he almost died.

Ares was on his side because of Athena and helped Ody to beat the crap out of Poseidon.

Hermes put moly in the bag so he could be on par with a god

The bag had sea daddy’s power itself in it so he had godly power on his side.

Hades lent his hand and let the spirits of his crew come back to spite his brothers

Etc.

But to be fair, Poseidon had just used his “god move” and centralized all his power to kill Odysseus (which totally should’ve killed him but the plot armor is strong with this one) so Poseidon was probably feeling pretty worn out at that point, coupled with the fact that he’s better at long range combat (I think I saw that somewhere please tell me if I’m making that up) as compared to Odysseus.

All this to say, it’s not unreasonable to imagine Poseidon being incredibly weakened not just after the energy used in his big strike, but after Ody used the windbag to move at godly speeds to further enhance his fighting prowess and wear Poseidon out to the point of just lying there.

To him, yes he’s out of energy but he knows, one, Odysseus can’t kill him so why keep pushing himself further, and two, the storm will do the job for him and stop Odysseus from going home anyways and so he uses that fact to taunt Ody instead of fighting him more physically. Poseidon just doesn’t realize how far he’s pushed Odysseus physically, mentally, or emotionally to even factor in that he’d torture him.

Either way something about it is just the tiniest bit unsatisfying, but I can’t deny that this saga has been and will continue to be on repeat in my house.

[tacitoru]

sunday overcast - eren yeager

pairing: eren jaeger x reader

summary: After ruining your potential dream relationship - and spring break plans - with Jean, you retreat to your hometown over break for the first time in years to lick your wounds. But you can mope around for only so long when you're strapped for cash. Luckily, the manager at your usual summer gig has an unconventional shift you can fill on short notice. The only issue - the guy you hooked up with and ghosted last winter is scheduled to work the same shift. Even worse, he's your only ride home.

rating: explicit

wc: 7.8k

read on ao3 | series nav

the chili's au/scummy line cook eren saga continues

“Hey,” you murmur, low and warm in your throat, just barely heard above the rain. “You wanna cheer me up?”

Eren really isn’t sure how the both of you ended up in this situation. 

Don’t get him wrong - he had been imagining your return since the day you left. Or rather, the day he found out you left, through Sasha, who had unceremoniously handed the sweater he loaned you over to him by the next dinner shift they worked together. By then, the winter holidays had passed and you were well on your way back to your university.

At first, he figured that in time, you would text him. Your last encounter was intense, and you could hardly look in his direction the whole drive to your apartment. He couldn’t bring himself to reach out first - something told him it’d make things worse before it made anything better. He couldn’t be the only one stuck on that night. Something had to be said, right?

But right now, somehow, you’re reclining in his backseat, studying him with that alluring, low-lidded gaze that pierces through the darkness of his car. And despite all the steps it took to get to this moment, nothing between the two of you has really been properly addressed yet.  

It’s this gnawing thought that causes Eren to hesitate at your invitation. Frustration burns through him at the sight of you. Wet hair pasted to the sides of your flush cheeks. Soaked polo rucked up your stomach, the bare skin shining with rainwater what little light gleans inside from the streetlights. The two of you, alone in Eren’s worn-out sedan, camped out in the middle of Pepper’s vacant parking lot, sporting matching red eyes. He observes you, observing him pretending to mull over your question. Silently pleading with him to blur the lines of whatever this was quickly devolving into just a little bit more. Just one more time. 

He wonders if you’ll back down, chicken out, if he’s quiet for long enough.

“Eren,” you call for him again and he swallows, throat feeling dry and thick. There it is again. That lofty tone you often use when he fucks up an order or moves a little too slow. Sweet, pitiful, and disdainful all at once. 

A joint smolders in his fingers, long forgotten after dodging to avoid the flailing mass of limbs and appendages that was your poor attempt at wiggling into the back from the passenger seat. A pleasant, lethargic fog creeps at the edges of his consciousness. Your next words seem to float through the car to bless his ears, rolling around in his mind with a warm buzz that has him leaning out of his seat before you’re even finished speaking. 

“Come make me feel good.”

--

New Year’s Day came and went, and Eren figured you’d at least reach out before you left your humble hometown for the start of your last spring semester in the big city. His phone would vibrate, and he would flip it, hoping he was masking his anticipation - and then later, disappointment - well enough at the possibility of you calling. His fingers would idle on your chat messages, frowning when he had to scroll farther and farther as he accumulated others—hoping one day to catch even just those three torturous, winking dots. Any sign that you were thinking of him as much as his thoughts turned to you.

This newfound hobby, waiting for you to return, was a nuisance in every sense of the word. You had left like you had every spring, and you would return like you had every summer. This careful, meticulous dance around your academic schedule that dictated your time back home - when you would work, how long you would stay, and who you would come to see. It was the way it had always been, for the past handful of years at least. Even if you were graduating this year, you had to come back - it was the natural order of things, in Eren’s world. 

What Eren hadn’t been anticipating was that you would break that routine.

He wouldn’t really consider himself a creature of habit beyond smoking, but there were people who he considered had specific roles in his everyday life. Connie was his work partner-in-crime and designated smoke buddy. Armin was his rock and moral compass. Levi was a hardass dictator moonlighting as a shift supervisor. And you were the uptight waitress girl from work who liked to boss him around and get on his ass just because you had a college degree and he didn’t.

Realistically, nothing had really shifted too far from the norm in his day-to-day. You had always been just coworkers. Now you were just a coworker whom he had eaten out from the back one time.

Eren had been working at Pepper’s for a long time. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had fucked around with one of his coworkers - that was part of the inevitable circle of life in the restaurant service industry. Work a double shift? Check. Train a newbie? Check. Fuck that one coworker who laughs a little too hard at your jokes? Check.

But then he had practically corned you at Sasha’s ugly sweater party last year, and suddenly that reality had been forced to shift.

It was the worst at work. He would receive an order he found stupid - who the fuck puts ranch on their spaghetti? - and itch to somehow poke fun at you about it. Connie would introduce the dinner crew to new music when the restaurant was closed, Levi had retired into the office for the night, and Eren would catch himself considering which tracks you would find funny and which ones you’d probably look up and save for yourself. 

Standing over the hot grill, his thoughts would drift, and Eren would imagine you marching through the swinging double doors into the kitchen, busybodied and frazzled as usual, sticking your neck out under the heat lamps like Erwin hasn't already admonished you for doing before, all so Eren can more clearly hear you chide him for half-assing an appetizer. It’s not hard to envision you -  tense,  jaw clenched, out of breath, flush, and slightly sweaty. Top buttons of your uniform’s polo are undone so he can glimpse the expanse of your collarbones and a bit of your chest when you lean over the counter to glare at him like you could kill him with your thoughts alone. Like you hadn’t ghosted him for months.

And then Connie would hip check him, wordlessly jarring Eren back into focus as another medium-well steak overcooked beneath his spatula.

--

Never in his right mind, no matter how often he replayed that fateful night with you in his head, no matter how frequently his thoughts drifted back to that cramped bathroom, the unrestrained feeling of your hands in his hair, the rough material of your knit sweater scrunched between his fingers as he fit himself between your thighs, the taste - 

Never in his right mind would he have imagined you sitting in his car, smoothing your splayed hands over the expanse of his leather backseat, drenched to the bone yet offering him a small mirthful, inviting smile despite the chill still in the air as you lean back and make yourself comfortable enough to request, “Come make me feel good.”

Fortunately for Eren, when it came to you, his train of thought had been anything but sound of mind in recent weeks.

Now, his hands are full of you. Large palms slip and slide under your wet top as he explores your back, your waist, and your arms,  crushing his mouth to yours.

His hand cups your cheek, a gentle guide in contrast to the hungry exploration of his mouth against yours. Urgent fingers slide into your hair as you rake back his own from his face, a strand getting caught in the corner of his lip when you kiss him once, twice. His slides across your lower lip invitingly, and you sigh into the kiss. Let him pry your mouth open with his own. He tastes like smoke and mints. The smell of deep fryer grease clings to his hair.

When Eren turns to pepper kisses down the soft skin of your neck and collarbones, he thinks he tastes salt. Time melts away, the only constant is the frantic rhythm of your breaths and the soft moans that escape your lips. You clutch the loose knot of his hair, guide him back towards you. Your foreheads rest against each other, chests heaving.

Eren’s gaze is low and warm as he takes in your bruised lips, and the ruddiness of your cheeks. HIs fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips.  You shift in his lap under the intensity of his stare, causing you both to groan, quickly reminded of your position. Eren had stepped out into the rain only to shove his way into the backseat and situate you onto his lap. Despite your layers of damp denim and cotton, you can feel him growing warm and solid beneath you.

“Is that for me?” you grind down against his hips. Grinning, teasing. He stutters upwards, gripping your waist like a lifeline. 

You think he looks so pretty like this, flustered, frowning, and breathless beneath you, like you’re moving quicker than he can catch up. He wraps one arm around your waist, using his free hand to wrench the collar of your polo aside and sink his teeth into the soft juncture of your neck in retaliation. You jolt and wriggle in his hold but Eren keeps you pressed against him, vengeful.

“So full of yourself,” he mutters, pressing a wet kiss where there is surely now a bruise. “Gotta get you full of me instead.”

You sputter and tell him to shut up, but let him take off your shirt anyway.

--

The thunderstorm that rolled through your small town this morning was relentless. Eren had figured the day would be wet and dreary when it began drizzling on his way to the restaurant, the headlights on his hooptie struggling to penetrate through the early morning fog. But throughout the morning, whenever Eren got a chance to glance out of the to-go order window, it was evident that it would only grow worse. 

He had already been dreading this shift all month. He had been slotted to come in on a Sunday - the one day of the week Pepper’s was closed - to deep clean the kitchen and take inventory of the walk-in fridge. This particular shift was only scheduled once a month, always on a Sunday morning, and rotated between him and Connie. The whole ordeal was a long-winded chore but thanks to Levi, the staff hierarchy was a pretty balanced ecosystem. Typically, one other waitress or front-of-house staff would be assigned randomly to help them. That way, none of the kitchen staff could claim they carried the brunt of the work.

(Even if they did.)

However, this Sunday morning was different. As he peered through the to-go order window, the storm's persistence mirrored the internal tempest he felt. The reason? Your return to staff is scheduled for this very shift. 

Eren’s heart nearly fell out of his ass upon first glance at the schedule. He asked Levi if it was a typo. 

“It’s spring break,” his manager deadpanned, as though this weren’t the first time you were picking up a shift in the middle of the semester. The linecook could only nod, tight-lipped. Historically, you had only worked over the summers and winters, reserving the few days of spring break for actual vacation time. Eren had figured he would have at least another month or two before you would have to confront each other, once he concluded that you wouldn’t reach out on your own.

Deep cleaning duty was always a menial and tedious task, but Eren working in enjoyed the silence of the usually chaotic kitchen. Any other Sunday, he would tie back his hair, don his apron, and steal Connie’s Bluetooth speaker from above the dishwashing sink. He’d blast his music over the chunky gurgle of the draining deep fryers, over the spray of boiling sink water. Rock, maybe R&B - stuff that wasn’t typical “family-friendly dining hours” approved. Maybe smoke a little before he came in, if he had been smart enough to think to roll something the night before.

 It was easy to lose himself in the busy work. Sometimes he would exchange pleasantries with accompanying wait staff if they actually decided not to call out at the last minute. Sasha, a night shift waitress and repeat offender, was never a morning person.

You were never much of a morning person either. It’s why he had been waiting all week for you to call out. He’d like to pretend like he wasn’t anticipating your return; like he hadn’t been taking extra time to pour over the schedule for weeks once winter turned to spring, noting where your name was absent among the list of people set to clock in after 4 pm. Like he hasn’t been bugging Sasha to share the barest hint about when you might be coming back. Or stalking your Twitter to see if you’ll post your graduation photos. But that wouldn’t be entirely true. 

Still, the shock of seeing you scheduled so soon before he’s prepared had haunted Eren throughout the week.

He insisted to himself he wasn’t nervous…Maybe a little anxious. The last time he had seen you, he had you bent over the toilet seat and crying into your arms at Sasha’s Christmas party before escorting you out in his garish holiday sweater. Blessedly - or dreadfully - he hadn’t heard from you since. 

When you had unloaded the sweater onto Sasha, she didn’t even bother to ask why you were in possession of it in the first place - practically the whole night crew played an incredulous audience to your walk of shame. Connie wouldn’t let him hear the end of it; Jean wouldn’t look him in the eyes at their last all-staff meeting.

 Eren can’t shake the feeling of expectation as he moves mechanically through the deep cleaning tasks, hoping you won’t call out and that the morning wouldn't be tainted by awkwardness. Hoping that you will call out and the both of you could remain in this silent, anxious limbo. He had been scheduled to clock in an hour before you. It crept by agonizingly slow. The memory of the holiday party, the garish holiday sweater, and the abrupt departure echo in his mind as he scrubs down the skillet of a grill.

--

You like that Eren never lets you think for too long. 

You’ll slow down when you kiss him, and he’ll stuff his fingers in your mouth instead. You’ll get too quiet for his liking, and he’ll seal his lips around your nipple. Suck bruises into the undersides of your breasts. Man handle you out of your uniform. Strip out of his own when you tug on his shirt.

You grind listlessly in his lap, trying to diminish as much space between you as possible, pressed up against his chest so that his arms are forced to wrap around you.  Eren’s hands brace your newly bare legs instead, sliding up your limbs with eager fingers.

You bite his ear and his fingers flex over your ass, pressing just very nearly where you want him most. “What do you want? Hm?” He’s so high, he doesn’t care that he’s whining. 

You suspect that he likes that you’re bossy if the glazed look in his eyes is anything to go by. He moves to kiss you and you duck with a grimace, jerking him back by the top knot of his hair. 

Your mouth is starting to feel like chalk, cotton mouth having set in. You’re afraid that you’ll croak if you try to speak.

--

As the first hour drags by, Eren’s unease grows. He’s starting to get antsy. Hadn’t even sparked up before starting to take inventory. Yet, when you finally enter the restaurant - rain-soaked, windswept, marching towards the cash register to clock in with a miserable look - the relief he feels is immediate. 

So you’re not avoiding him. At least, not completely. Not enough to turn down a paycheck.

You haven’t quite spotted him yet from outside the kitchen, where he’s braced over the grill, elbow-deep in grease and fry oil grime as he scrubs the insides with a sorry excuse for a sponge, but there’s no way you don’t hear his music. The sound of something like country rock leaks from behind the squeaky metal swinging doors that separate the kitchen - so lovingly tokened “the Heart of the House” - from the front. He feels rather than hears you tentatively push through those very same doors, following the source of the noise.  

Looking up to greet you, Eren falters at first. His mouth dries at the sight of you, all damp and disgruntled, shifting uncomfortably at the way your uniform polo sticks to your skin. How you managed to look pretty even in the drab waitressing attire and tacky, pepper-printed apron was beyond him.

When your eyes finally do meet his, there’s an unbearable pause as you gape at one another, both seemingly grappling for the right words. Eren waits for you to speak first  - it’s only fair, after months of radio silence, but he’s mostly just afraid of scaring you off.

You look as tense as he feels, shoulder locked up to your ears as you round the corner to face him.  Your lips part and Eren prays the next words that pass through them will ease the confusing ache in his chest.

“Since when’re you a Luke Bryan fan?”

Oh. Okay.

The disbelief on his face must be more blatant than he thinks because you begin to chuckle behind pursed lips, the corners of your eyes crinkled with mirth and mild embarrassment.

Deflecting. Okay. He can play along.

“Whaddya mean?” He offers an easy grin, leaning back from where he was bent over the lip of the deconstructed grill. Mentally imploring that stupid part of his brain that gets gooey when you’re around to shut the hell up. “You’re telling me this doesn’t make you wanna shake it for me, country girl?”

“Whatever,” you dismiss him not unkindly, but excuse yourself from him, all the same, to slip past him into the kitchen, grumbling something about “accidentally” placing his phone in this dishwasher if he doesn’t change the music to something else soon.

--

The way his hands look stretching out the back of your panties as he wets his digits along your soaked slit to finger you drives Eren a little insane. From where he’s got his head perched over your shoulder as you tuck into his own to hide little, shuddering sobs, he’s entranced by the sight of the fabric straining to make room for his knuckles as he dips inside where you’re molten and wanting. 

He wonders if you’ll let him keep this pair, if he asks. He’ll try not to think of it like a reward.

You sigh at the welcome intrusion, one arm slung around his neck, the other hand fisting the damp hemp of his jeans. Slowly, indulgently, he presses in. And out. 

“Yeah? Like that?”

He asks like he genuinely wants to know, not like he’s being cocky about how easily you’re falling apart for him, and it makes you clench a little harder around his fingers. Cry into his shoulder a little louder. You couldn’t even answer if you wanted to.

Eren refuses to be rushed. Takes his time to learn what makes you twitch and moan like you’re not camped out in the middle of a very public parking lot. You’ll have to ask him about his exhibitionist tendencies later.  He picks up the pace, cranes his neck to kiss you and you struggle to kiss him back. You’re sloppy, dragging your tongue across the edge of his chin. Spit bubbles at the corner of your lip, and he bites you there.

Distantly, you hear the rain pick up.

--

Despite your seemingly easygoing demeanor and non-confrontation, the weight of your last encounter and the unspoken acknowledgment of your absence is tangible for the entire shift. 

It hovers between the two of you like a dark cloud as you dance around each other throughout the morning, never offering more than a few words between tasks and weak smiles.

It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. It should be enough that you even bothered to show up today, despite everything.

But Eren hates how polite you’re being with him. You give a little, cracking a joke here, offering a laugh there. But there’s none of your usual bite. Something passive in your gaze. Distant in an unsettling way he can’t comprehend. 

You ask him where the cleaning solution is and he directs you to a recently reorganized (courtesy of Levi) storage closet instead of asking why you’ve never texted him after all that transpired. You seek out his help breaking down empty bulk-order shipping boxes and he spends the better part of an hour snapping cardboard in half instead of interrogating you about Jean, if you told him about what happened as he suspects. If you regret it, like he’s assuming.

You don’t seem to not want to be around him. Rather the opposite -  you don’t want to leave him alone for too long. Asking him for help with things he knows you know - you’ve worked here nearly as long as he has. Purposefully keeping him at arm's length, but orbiting him all the same. He waits patiently for you to take that jump you seem to be building up to.

The morning wears on, the two of you working in relative silence. You pay Eren little mind, dutifully going about your tasks yet always hovering within eyesight, occasionally disappearing into the bathroom. You didn’t even reprimand him for the volume of his music like you normally would, or hound him for eating on the job when he makes a sandwich mid-shift. 

In his periphery, he watches as you fuss about the kitchen, flitting between tasks, and wonders if you were waiting for him to get angry with you first before broaching the subject. 

Eren takes his smoke break standing at the back door. When you notice his absence, he waits for you to admonish him for letting the draft in. Instead, you merely glower in disdain at the rainwater splattered on the tile floor, never meeting his eyes, before turning the corner with a dismissive, “ ‘S’long as you know you’re cleaning that up.”

The storm rages outside. An uneasy feeling festers inside Eren. It eats at his stomach as the end of his shift creeps near. Grits his teeth when you both clock out with little more than a half-assed, “See you later.”

Eren’s ears ring as he hangs his apron and collects his things from the back office. A notable lack of an umbrella, he fits a worn Yankees cap over his hair and fits what he can of his bun through the back, like it’ll do anything against the downpour standing between him and his car. 

Say something. He should say something.

He remembers how bold he was that fateful night; teasing you on the couch, ruining your sweater, and rushing to your aid in the bathroom. 

“What the hell is with you?” You had muttered, and Eren had wanted to gather your face in his palms and press his forehead to yours hard like it would make you feel all of the years’ worth of want and frustration he couldn’t put into words.

He had pressed his mouth to yours instead, intent on devouring you at the first warm, breathless sound you made. He had always been better at communicating like this.

Say something.

Eren meanders back towards the front of the restaurant, ready to lock up. To his surprise, you haven’t rushed out to greet your ride. Your lack of car ownership had been an amazing feat to watch you work around in your early days of working at Pepper’s. You had long since established a carpooling repertoire with the other wait staff. He can’t remember who usually takes you home. It’s not a parent, that much is for sure. Sasha had totted you around this past winter break due to most of your shifts lining up. And before that - his mind fogs.

The line cook spots you leaning against the glass double doors at the front, tapping idly away at your phone, and sucks his teeth - Levi was definitely going to make him go back and wipe them down tomorrow.

“You’re getting prints on my glass.”

You glance at him pointedly before breathing on the glass and smudging a heart with your thumb where the foggy imprint begins to fade. 

Eren wrinkles his nose. “Amazing.”

“You’re welcome.”

Rain fills the silence as you take each other in. It's late afternoon, but from where Eren stands, the sunless weather casts the impression that it is well into the night. You look at him full-on for the first since the start of your shift, eyes unabashedly raking over his form. Save for the emergency lamps, all of the lights in the building have been shut off. The dim light casts shadows beneath your eyes - you look tired. 

Eren twirls the keychain in his hands, quizzical. “You…got a ride home?”

He tries not to feel offended at the way your brows spike, unable to hide your surprise. Your reaction is quick, reflexive. Your answering “Yeah!” comes out wince-like and strangled. The forced pitch in your voice makes you both cringe. Clearing your throat to try again, softer this time. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Eren stares at you. The teeth of the key bite into the skin of his fingers in the tightness of his grip. 

“Thank you for asking.” You add, a little more sincerely. 

“Yeah.” He tugs the hat over his eyes. Tosses the key in your direction and tries not to take too much delight in watching you drop your cool composure to scramble and catch the metal piece. “Lock up when you’re out.”

--

You don’t know how many times you’ve come. Consciousness comes and goes in waves. Dozed off in his lap with your face tucked into his shoulder after your third orgasm to the thrum of rain and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Eren had fumbled for a condom out of his wallet and sunk into you at your first insistence.  What started off as a frenzied, frustrated tangle of limbs somewhere along the way devolved into something much softer. Where you’re still rooted on his thick length becomes a slow, sloppy rut as you come down from your high.

Where you are sleepy, Eren is determined, dead set on accomplishing the task you set before him. 

" Hm? Feel good?” He presses his lips to your forehead, presses his thumb to your clit in a slow grind. Grins when you twitch his hold. You gave up trying to maintain any semblance of control a long time ago, boneless and relenting when Eren strongarms you into his embrace. 

“This what you wanted?” he pants, gruff and a little desperate, and you have enough energy left to nod, murmuring his name. He scoots down a little in his seat, bracing his legs in a wide stance before pistoning his hips into your warm, wet center. Any other time you would cringe at the way the skin of your bare thighs stick to the tops of his, Eren's work-issued black jeans shoved mid-way down his legs. All he can offer is a breathless moan in response when you wail and wriggle in his hold, hips reflexively jumping away.

“So hot like this,” he breathes into the space behind your ear. “So good, fuck.”

You reach one hand up to brace against the back windshield, palm slipping across the condensation. The playlist Eren put on loops again. 

--

At the end of his Sunday shift, Eren finds himself sitting in his car in the back parking lot at Pepper’s, unearthing a joint from his dash drawer and digging around for his lighter, silently cursing himself.

Parked beneath the restaurant sign - Pepper’s in brilliant white script, a caricatured bell pepper hugging the ‘P’ - the neon red mascot hovers far above the hood of Eren’s hooptie. Seemingly glowering at him through his windshield with a knowing smile. He can spot the cartoonishly wide eyes from where he sits, even through the downpour of rain.

Of course, you found him fucking appalling. The last time he had seen you, he’d practically dropped to his knees at the chance to distract you from the guy you actually liked. 

The ringing sound gets a little louder behind his ears. Can I really keep going like nothing happened?

From the start of your career at the restaurant Pepper’s - if you could call it that - you had made it very evident that you and Eren were of two separate worlds.

You were a college student. You had shiny friends and extravagant stories from a bigger city, a vastly different lifestyle than the quiet bubble and hum of suburbia you called home. Eren had seen the Instagram pictures. You had goals. You had ambition. Pepper’s was a pit stop for you. Although you never outright mocked him for it, he could see it in the sneer on your lip sometimes when you interrupted a smoke break or in the aggravated glint in your eye when you had to address him about a dish. 

You considered him beneath you. 

A gentle rap at his window pulls Eren from his thoughts, and he practically jumps out of his skin at the sight of you standing in the pouring rain, crouched over his window. Face pressed pleadingly into the cold glass. Eren freezes, and then jumps into action, fumbling his newly retrieved lighter and nearly dropping his joint in the process. 

“Holy shit?”

He places his things in his pocket and rolls down the window just a crack, the wind already whipping water into the interior of his car. “You good?”

It’s a stupid question - one he expects you to reproach him for. Instead, a rare look crosses your face - you look meek, and nervous, in a way you haven’t since your first day on the job. Arms crossed, lips pursed. Like you’re about to do something you don’t normally do.  The rain pelts your flimsy excuse for a rain jacket.

“Could I - Can I get a ride?” He can pick out your agitation even over the rumble of the thunderstorm. “I’ll give you gas money, I just-,”

“Money? What-,” He unlocks his car door, incredulous. “Can you just get in the fucking car please?”

You grimace at his tone when he rolls his window back up, but Eren watches you skirt around the front of his car nonetheless. You plop into the passenger seat, a puddle of rainwater. He can hear your socks squish in your shoes when you shift in your seat.

“What the hell?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, looking at your hands. Your jeans feel ten pounds heavier, the denim soaked all the way through. “My ride didn’t-,”

You stop and then start again, and Eren moves to interrupt you. You speak over one another.

“- No, it’s no -,”

“-I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Eren steals a glance at you, seeing what he hopes is just the rain streaking down the sides of your face. He fiddles with his phone and puts on a random playlist to fill the silence.

 He notices the tremble in your hands, the way your usually self-assured posture has shrunk into itself. You look small in his passenger seat. At once, all of his annoyance melts away, replaced by a surge of concern.

"Hey," he starts softly, "It’s whatever. Don’t sweat it, seriously." Eren notices you shiver and reaches over to blast the heat in his dinky sedan.

“Fuck, you’re freezing, hold on.”

You watch, pressed against the passenger door to make room as your coworker reaches behind his seat, long limbs momentarily invading your space as he dregs up a dark green hoodie from the depths of his car floor with a flourish. A bright red pepper patch the size of your hand is sewn across the chest. The cartoonish mascot of your place of work smiles mockingly back at you in the dim lighting of Eren’s car with wide, unseeing eyes. 

It’s your turn to wrinkle your nose at him, skeptical. “It’s clean I swear, grabbed it on my way here this morning.”

Despite your skepticism, you take it from him anyway, between two pinched fingers for dramatic effect, moaning and groaning as you pull it over your head.

“We can’t let this be a regular thing.”

It’s said so casually, but the jolt of rage and disbelief Eren feels at your reference to last December is tremendous. He scoffs, avoiding your gaze as he reveals the joint and lighter from his pockets once more.

“Oh, so we can joke about it but not talk about it?” It comes out more scathing than he intends to be.

He registers your obvious shock beside him at his words but only pauses to balance the filter of his forgotten joint between his lips, already poised to burn the rolled end with a steady hand as he flicks the lighter on. “Do you mind?”

You shake your head, sinking into his hoodie and wordlessly watching as he inhales, deeply, then exhales, indulgent. A sweet, earthly smell fills the car. “Alright.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

Eren studies you a little too hard, more clarity in his gaze than you would prefer. You don’t refuse when he passes you the roll, gently pinched between two fingers. He waits until you’ve inhaled to voice his suggestion, taking a little amusement in how you choke on the smoke. “We could talk about Jean. I think there’s definitely a lot to cover there.”

Eren waits for you to back down from the obvious challenge. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace at the sound of the dayshift manager’s name. “Is that what this is about? Is that who usually picks you up?”

“You never noticed?” You don’t sound mad, just surprised, so Eren figures it's okay to be honest.

“You…no.” He shakes his head and takes a hit.  “I could give less of a fuck about what Jean gets up to in his free time, sorry.”

“Ah.”

You’re silent for a little bit after that. When he glances at you again, you’re already handing him the joint and turned to face the passenger window, gazing out at the rain. The size of Eren’s hoodie seems to swallow you.

He doesn’t press you to elaborate, but you do anyway, feeling guilty for your matter-of-fact attitude earlier, when he’s been nothing but accommodating for you so far. You decide to give a little. “We’ve been carpooling together every shift. Every year. He dropped me off today…”

“Said it would be the last time.” You peter off. "We had vacation plans together."

You had planned to go to the beach with mutual friends - Jean's parents owned a beach house on the coast. You were going to meet his parents. You can remember how light you had felt the day after the plans had been made, last summer, practically dancing into work the next shift, and then with a little more clarity, the awful pit that had formed in your stomach when he had broken the news to you on the drive to work this morning.

Eren shifts in his seat, and clears his throat, trying to quell the urge to punch Jean in his. He ashes into a little dish in his cupholder. “Figured somethin’ had happened. Been in such a shitty mood all day.”

“Me? Okay, Mr. I’m gonna mope in the kitchen until somebody notices and takes pity on me. Didn’t you ever go through a goth phase as a kid? I think know a couple of artists you could get into.”

“Tsk,” Eren brushes off your laughter with another hit of his joint, halfway smoldering between his fingertips. “You wouldn’t know a goth phase if it smacked you between the eyes.”

“Mm, no I figured you’d be an expert, with hair like that.”

“Like what?”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles behind your hand, high catching up to you, a balmy and pleasant buzz in your head. The image of Eren rocking an early 2010s-grunge fringe cut clear as day in your mind’s eye. You blame the weed for making you brave enough to lean over and reach across the console to brush the sable fringe that escapes from his bun and spills from under his baseball cap out over his eyes. 

Until recently, your relationship had been largely surface-level. This prim and proper versus anything goes repertoire you had both built over the years, banter that exclusively involved work lingo and work references and work friends. You’d come back from college, and Eren was there. You’d leave for another semester, and Eren was still there.

As permanent as a fixture in your mind as the walk-in fridge or the soda dispenser. Always prepared to give you hell on a slow moving shift or crack jokes at your expense. Always there to keep your plates in order or set aside a pasta entree for you during a dinner rush despite his strict “customer-orders-before-employees” edict because he knows you won’t eat otherwise. Always there to cover for you when your bathroom breaks went a little too long.

He’ll tap dance on your last nerve all day, but you care for each other, through that vague sense of solidarity that coworkers share.

Eren blinks back at you, low and slow, eyes caught on your easy smile. The first genuine one you’ve given him all day. He’s entranced, savoring the feeling of your fingers drifting across his brow bone, tracing his jawline, and then sliding back along the nape of his neck to tuck under the strap of his hat.

For a moment, it’s all a little too much for Eren. The gentleness of your touch and tone, your full, undivided attention as you undo the strap. He quietly marvels at the ease with which you do it with one hand, slipping the knot of his hair free. The loose strands freefall over his eyes once more, but you’re quick to push them back. You shift forward further out of your seat to use both hands, and he lets you, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your finger raking gently across his scalp. Distantly, he admonishes himself for somehow ending up allowing you to let you pet him like a dog in his own car. 

He’s supposed to be driving you home.

“Did you-,” Eren’s voice cracks, and you don’t bother hiding your laugh. “Would you feel better if you like, talked about it with someone?”

The joint is simmering down to it’s last dregs between Eren’s knuckles. He offers it to you, and you twist his wrist to direct the filter towards your mouth, inhaling with your lips pressed to his fingers.

Eren would blame the heat crawling up his chest on the AC, but it’s at that moment he notices the heater never kicked in. He frowns, turning away from you to restart the car, stomping on the break.

The vehicle lurches and makes an odd shuddering sound before hot, stale air blasts through the vents. You lean away from the one closest to you, fumbling the shutter closed. “The fuck is with your car?”

“‘S old as shit. Whole thing is on its last leg.” Eren gripes, waving off a cloud of dust that seemed to halo around his head. He tries to roll his eyes when he clocks your “no, duh” expression, but the motion feels slow and clunky behind his eyelids. “Doesn’t matter. Fixing up a new one anyway.”

It only stings a little when your brows nearly shoot up to your hairline in surprise, inhibitions lowered, no longer able to hide your indifference to him as well as usual. 

“You build cars?” Your lips feel like rubber under the haze of marijuana. The words feel stupid the moment you utter them, but Eren catches what he dares to believe is a hint of awe in your tone. He ribs you for it, preening a little under your attention.

“Yeah, me build cars,” the line cook laughs and mocks you, caveman-like. “Car go fast.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

You pout, ignoring his raspy, rumbling laughter and the warm feeling blossoming in your chest. The memory of him smiling up at you, all teeth and impish in Sasha’s bathroom winks across your mind’s eye.  Arms crossed, you whip around to face the window again, withdrawing before he can catch the deep color crawling across your cheeks. In all your years of working together, you’d never really considered what Eren did outside of work and hanging out with your circle of colleagues. You feel like you’ve unveiled something vast and unknown.

“That’s cool.” You offer in a whisper, awe poorly hidden in your voice, and it’s Eren’s turn to hide his face.

“Didn’t know you had a hobby.”

“Yeah, well, I do exist outside of all this, y’know,” he gestures vaguely in the direction of the restaurant and you hum, nodding. Feeling silly that this is a realization you’re only just now coming to.

A strange new calm had settled between you. The rain outside continues its relentless assault, but within the car, you feel a fragile connection form. You peek at Eren from the corner of your eye, his expression unreadable in the dim light, yet somehow comforting. Equally lax and low-lidded. He reaches for his glove box to reveal a second preroll and gets to work lighting it as you observe his side profile in silence.

 You’re not too prideful to admit he looks handsome like this, hair undone and falling over his shoulders, work polo unbuttoned at the top, features lit up by the dim glow of the lighter in his fist against the overcast gloom of the afternoon.

Then he squints, face twisted like something has been bothering him. “I thought you didn’t smoke.” Or at least, he had assumed so, by how often you got on his ass about lighting up while on the clock.

“At work, dumbass.” Eren exhales, and the car gets hazy again, even with air running through the vents. He sees you twist your fingers into the hem of his hoodie and wishes they were in his hair again. “I am a college student.”

“That doesn’t mean shit.”

You reluctantly turn to face him again, if only to implore him to continue. “You can be so…I dunno.” He scrambles for the right words through the drug-induced fog in his brain, faltering a little under your scrutiny. “Uptight? Straight-edged? Can’t imagine you reaching for a blunt to wind down.”

“It’s not my first choice of coping mechanism,” you joke, plucking the newly lit roll from his grasp between careful fingers, laughing through your nose when you miss on the first try. You take the opportunity to throw his words back at him, childishly. “I do have a life outside of here, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Silence descends again, still comfortable in the haze of the car. It’s getting a little harder to breathe. You steal another glance at your colleague, noticing the way his gaze tracks the motion of the joint being brought to your lips, strands of his dark hair plastered to his forehead by the rain. That unexpected warmth grows in your chest, a feeling you can’t bring yourself to name. Not after this morning.

Eren leans closer, over the console that separates you with lidded eyes that flicker between your gaze and your mouth as you slowly expel the smoke from between your lips. Eyes set on you with an unfamiliar softness that makes your heart ache. The distance between your faces shrinks agonizingly slowly. He whispers your name, and suddenly you’re lurching backward, struggling up out of your seat to slip into the crevice that separates the front of the car from the backseat. The moment is broken.

Eren yelps, ducking in time to just nearly miss being clipped by your sneakers as you shimmy into the back seat. You peel his hoodie over your head with exasperated finality.

He twists in his seat to face you, bewildered, but you’re already settling into his back seat with a smile, still trying to keep two steps ahead of him even when you’re stoned.

Eren’s not really sure what he’s trying to prove to himself - prove to you. But that little ache in his chest gets a little gentler when you look at him like that, the confusion about whateverthisis becomes a little less profound, a little quieter.

 “Come make me feel good.”

He recognizes the undertone in your voice. He doesn’t need to be told twice. The young man moves on autopilot, stepping out of the driver’s seat to slide into the backseat beside you, ignoring your indignant shriek with a grin when the rain lashes the car’s interior. Eren is dripping wet when he reaches for you, lips slips slotting against yours with an eager certainty that makes you moan.

He wouldn’t call it a crush, but if anyone could have heard the way his heart kicked up when you beckoned him into his own backseat - they might argue otherwise.

--

Once again, Eren is dropping you off while you wear something of his. He watches you fiddle with the hem of the Pepper’s hoodie as he pulls into your parents’ driveway, behind one of their cars. 

The line cook thinks back to what you revealed to him earlier, how Jean had been your usual carpool to work, and gets angry all over again. “You thinking of getting one of your own?”

He means a car, but you’re too busy avoiding his eyes again, studying his hoodie a little too closely. “Yeah, do you think Erwin has any more? I think this merch is from before even I started, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the pepper drawn like this.”

You pick at the outdated mascot embroidered across the chest of the piece, the cartoon eyes glaring back at him unblinkingly, as if daring him to correct you. 

The rain had subsided on the drive to your neighborhood. You look less gaunt in the sunlight. Eren remembers how you let him hold you after your spontaneous round of marathon sex. Sticky and sweaty and damp for a whole new reason. Remembers how you pressed a kiss to his forehead after the fact, how it made him feel warm with a different kind of buzz entirely independent of the bud you had smoked.

 He stops you when you move to take off the hoodie again and give it back to him, halfway out of the car.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a lopsided smile. “You can keep this one.”

[helpami-flaffy]

EPIC THE MUSICAL OPINIONS, VERY OPINIONS, VERY MINE.

IF YOU DON'T WANT SOME NEGATIVITY DON'T READ. THIS IS NOT PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE I SWEAR.

MOSTLY COMPILED AT NIGHT, SOME REVISION.

PLEASE DO NOT COME AT ME.

.....................

After this saga I'm left kind of perplexed about epic.

What is epic trying to say here? What's the musical's stance on ruthlessness?

Because it isn't very clear to me anymore.

Is it bad? Is it good and just? Is it a necessary evil? Is it worth becoming something monstrous just to achieve your goals?

The thing I'm trying to say is:

Is epic a tragedy or a triumph?

Until the vengeance saga I thought it was the former, but now I'm not so sure.

Throughout the story Odysseus takes desicions that either side with what I'll call the 'open arm mentality' or the 'ruthless' mentality.

He gets punished for both a number of times.

He kills Astianax so he doesn't have to fear his future vengeance.

He spares Polyphemus and that leads to 558 men dying.

He appeals to Circe's humanity and that leads her to freeing his men and helping him get to the underworld.

He sacrificed 6 men to Scylla and that leads to 'mutiny' and 'thunder bringer' where the rest of his crew dies and he ends up in calypso's island where she imprisoned him for 7 years.

First act of ruthlessness= good outcome

First act of open arms= bad outcome

Second act of open arms= good outcome

Second act of ruthlessness= bad outcome

(I forgot to add the sirens, that encounter is kinda strange tho.  Ody kills all of them but I wouldn't call that ruthlessness. Ruthlessness is doing whatever needs doing to get what you want. He needed to know how to get home, and killing the sirens after doesn't matter in that context. I guess it's good for future sailors? I'll count this as an altruistic positive I guess)

This breakdown isn't perfect, lots of other things happen and some things Ody does can't really be neatly categorized by this simple metric imo, but I'll continue anyway as it feels to me the story breaks down his actions in a sort of similar dichotomy.

All in all the 'good to bad' ratio seems pretty balanced, right? It's not always ruthlessness that wins the day, and 'open arms' solutions don't always work out.

So why does it feel like we're supposed to root for ruthless Odysseus? Why does it feel like the story wants us to believe that being the monster is a good if 'somewhat sad' outcome?

Why am I saying this? Well, it's 600 strikes.

Actually just- all the vengeance saga.

Why is what Ody does here supposed to be cool and awesome? Because, like, that is absolutely the angle here.

Complete with a, honestly absurd, anime power up and fighting-god-one-on-one moment.

Why does the story break down it's logic,  breaks suspension of disbelief (at least for me), to get Odysseus into a position were he can torture Poseidon into letting him go?

Wich?? Btw should not work??

Why is this how he wins?

Why are the ghosts of his friends and family no longer spectres of regrets for but terrifying promises of death?

What does this say? Was Odysseus wrong about their sacrifice? Was regret ever only a noose around his neck? I'm looking too deeply into this one lol.

In 'get in the water' we even get the obligatory appeal to Poseidon's mercy just to hammer down once again that 'open arms' doesn't work, even tho it's Athena's appeal to her father's mercy that set Odysseus free in the first place.

The saga ends with Poseidon asking Odysseus how he'll sleep at night after all of this and Ody, in admittedly the coldest line ever written on paper, says:

"Next to my wife"

...

This is cool.

Extremely cool even.

But that's kind of the problem I have with it.

The song ends in a badass way. This is meant to be the final zing to seal Odysseus' cool ass victory.

And in all of this, not once, does the story seem to recognize that...well...

Poseidon won.

Hell not even Poseidon recognized it!

I'm not even saying "OoOh if it was realistic Poseidon would have have won!" (Tho yeah, ask me about that, lol)

In the great ideological battle that's at the center of Epic: the musical, Poseidon was the ultimate victor.

Ruthless is what wins at the end, it's what gets Odysseus home. Odysseus might be a monster but he's a victorious one.

I feel people and the musical both don't really acknowledge that.

That even if Poseidon lost the battle he ultimately won the war.

Were is the irony? Where's the bitterness and sorrow? We're Poseidon's bloodied, mocking smirk revelling in his victory?

Is Epic a tragedy or a power fantasy?

[wonderlanddreamer]

[1923] Watery Lane, Birmingham.

In the aftermath of a violent ambush on their home, the Shelby family must act quickly to help Lydia, who has been struck by a bullet.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, injury, and blood.

[Part of The Lydia Saga]

The Shelby home, once a bastion of strength and family, now lay in disarray, its proud facade marred by the violence that had shattered its peace. The front door hung askew on its hinges, an ominous welcome to the chaos within. Shattered glass crunched underfoot, mingling with the splintered wood of furniture that had been upturned in the frenzy. The wallpaper, once pristine, was now marred with bullet holes and streaked with soot, a testament to the gunfire that had torn through the house like a relentless storm.

In the hallway, a mirror lay cracked and discarded, its fractured surface reflecting the turmoil in jagged pieces. Family photographs, once lovingly displayed, were now scattered across the floor, their frames broken, and images of happier times lying amid the debris. The once comforting hearth in the parlour now seemed cold and distant, its warmth extinguished by the violence that had invaded.

The betting shop, a symbol of the Shelby enterprise, fared no better. The smell of burnt paper hung in the air, mixing with the lingering scent of smoke. Betting slips and ledger pages were strewn about like leaves in a gale, their contents rendered meaningless amid the destruction. The counter, usually bustling with activity, was now a barricade of chaos, its surface scarred by stray bullets and splintered wood.

The shelves that once held stacks of coins and tidy ledgers were bare, their contents either pilfered or scattered in the melee. Chairs lay toppled and broken, a testament to the frantic struggle that had taken place. The safe, usually a symbol of security and prosperity, stood ominously open, its contents rifled through and discarded in the frenzy.

Outside, the rain continued to fall, its relentless patter a stark contrast to the silence now enveloping Watery Lane. It washed away the blood and soot, but it could not cleanse the memory of what had transpired. Despite the fear and uncertainty, the family was rallying as they always did—together.

The memory of the ambush replayed in Lydia's mind with vivid clarity. She had been running, heart pounding in her chest, when she spotted John ahead—a beacon of safety amid the chaos. But before she could reach him, a sharp, searing pain had exploded in her side, stealing her breath and sending her crashing to the ground. The world had spun around her, the sounds of gunfire and shouting stretching into a distant echo as she lay there, paralyzed by shock and pain. She couldn't quite recall which of her brothers had reached her side first, but there was no mistaking who had exacted vengeance on the man responsible for her injury. Despite her blurred vision, the sight of blood splattered across Arthur’s clenched fists was unmistakable. In a fit of turbulent rage, he had forsaken all weapons, choosing instead to unleash his fury with his bare hands. Each blow landed with ferocious intensity, reducing the man’s face to a grotesque, unrecognisable mess.

Now, Lydia lay curled on her bed, the very act of breathing a torturous endeavour. The bullet had left a jagged wound in her side, a cruel reminder of the violence she had narrowly escaped. Blood had soaked through her shirt, forming a dark, ominous stain that spread with each painful breath. The skin around the injury was angry and inflamed, radiating a heat that spoke of the body's desperate fight against the intrusion.

Her small hands, normally so full of life and mischief, clutched the sheets in a white-knuckled grip, as if anchoring herself against the tide of pain threatening to sweep her away. Her eyes, dulled by agony and fever, flickered to her Aunt Polly, seeking reassurance in her steady presence.

Polly Gray moved with the grace of someone who had faced crises such as these before. Her heart ached for Lydia's suffering, but she buried her emotions beneath a mask of calm determination. She gently dabbed at the wound with a clean cloth, her movements careful and precise, trying to soothe Lydia's pain even as she prepared to alleviate it further.

The room around Lydia seemed to blur, the world reduced to a haze of pain that refused to relent. Each breath was a struggle, a sharp reminder of the bullet lodged in her side. Her pale skin felt like it was on fire, the wound throbbing with a relentless, searing agony that no amount of reassurance could ease. The damp cloth Ada used to wipe away her tears was a fleeting comfort, offering only momentary relief from the feverish heat that enveloped her.

Ada remained a tranquil presence, her gentle touch a beacon of calm in the storm of Lydia's suffering. Yet, despite Ada's soothing words and soft whispers, the pain clawed at Lydia's senses, drowning out the world around her. It was as if the hurt had taken on a life of its own, consuming her thoughts and rendering her oblivious to everything except the burning insistence of the injury. She had truly never felt anything like it, and never wanted to feel anything like it ever again.

Across the room, Finn stood beside Polly, trying to project an air of calm he didn't truly feel. His hands trembled slightly with the weight of responsibility, but he forced them to remain steady as he passed tools to Polly. Each time his fingers brushed Polly's, it was a silent exchange of strength and solidarity.

Finn's voice wavered as he spoke, reaching out to Lydia with a promise he desperately hoped to fulfil. "It’s going to be okay, Lyds," he said, his words laced with a mixture of hope and fear. But even as he spoke, he knew that his assurances were no match for the relentless pain that gripped his younger sister. His heart ached with the helplessness of watching Lydia suffer, wishing he could do more to ease her pain.

The door swung open and Tommy stepped inside, his presence commanding immediate attention. He carried with him a bowl of water in one hand and a cloth in the other. His appearance seemed to ease the tension in the room, his usually calculating gaze softened by concern as he looked at Lydia.

There was a tenderness in the way he approached, a complete contrast to the hardened leader he was known to be. His shirt was stained with blood, sleeves balled up to his elbows revealing injuries of his own that had been hastily patched up by John downstairs. Yet none of that mattered to him in that moment, his own pain of no importance to himself considering the juncture they were at.

As Tommy reached the bed, Ada quietly asked, her voice tinged with worry, “How are the others, Tommy?” He gave a brief nod as he set the bowl down with a gentle clink, his words concise but reassuring. “They’re managing,” he replied, not wanting to dwell on anything but Lydia at that moment.

Tommy carefully positioned himself on the bed so that Lydia could rest partially on his lap. His arms wrapped around her shoulders with a gentle strength, cradling her close against his chest. As Lydia settled against him, Tommy became acutely aware of the tremors coursing through her small frame. Holding her close, Tommy could feel the rapid flutter of her heartbeat against his arms, a frantic rhythm that echoed the turmoil within her. The sensation of her trembling tugged at something deep within him, a mixture of protectiveness and helplessness that he rarely allowed himself to feel. Tommy Shelby was accustomed to being the one in control, yet with Lydia in his arms, he was harshly reminded of the fragility of life and the limits of his power.

Lydia’s fear was palpable, a living thing that wrapped itself around her like a vice, squeezing tighter with each passing moment. The anticipation of having the bullet removed loomed over her like a dark cloud, and she was dreadfully aware of the pain it would bring.

"T-Tommy," she whimpered, her voice barely rising above the fragile whisper of her breath. It was a plea born of desperation and fear, her small hands clutching at his arms as if they were the only thing anchoring her to this world. “Please don’t. Don’t let them touch it. It hurts so much.”

Tommy's heart clenched at the painful vulnerability in her voice, an abdominal ache that resonated deep within him. He wanted nothing more than to take the pain away from her and take it upon himself, but he knew this was a battle she had to endure, and all he could do was be there, steadfast and unwavering.

He kept his voice steady and soothing, a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of her fear. "I know, love. I know it hurts," he murmured, brushing his lips against the top of her head with infinite tenderness. His breath was warm against her skin, a tangible promise of his presence. "But you're the bravest of us all, you know that? You're our little soldier."

Lydia sniffled, her tears soaking into his sleeves as she clung to him, drawing strength from his presence. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, a reassuring rhythm that spoke of safety and love. "It will all be alright, little one," he whispered, his voice a soft rumble, each word a balm against her fear. “We're all here with you, Lydia. You're not alone, alright?"

Her sobs quieted into small, hiccuping breaths as she clung to him, drawing strength from his presence. Tommy nodded to Polly, signalling that Lydia was as ready as she could be. Ada and Finn moved to help hold her steady, each offering murmured words of encouragement, their touches gentle and sure.

The moment Polly began her work, time seemed to slow, stretching each second into an agonising eternity. Lydia's scream tore through the room, a raw, anguished sound that pierced the air like a knife. It was a sound that clawed at Tommy's heart, each note of her pain resonating deep within his soul. He held her tighter, as if his embrace could somehow shield her from her suffering.

"It's okay, little one. I'm here. I’ve got you. Just a little longer," he whispered, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. He stroked her hair with a gentle hand, keeping her as steady as his strong arms would allow.

Polly worked with expert precision, her hands steady even as her heart ached for Lydia. She murmured soft reassurances as she carefully probed the wound, her fingers deft and sure despite the gravity of the task. The room was tense with anticipation, each person holding their breath as Polly continued her delicate work.

John and Arthur appeared in the doorway, drawn by the sound of their sister's distress. Their faces were grim, shadows etching deeper lines into their already weathered features. Each of them bore their own marks of the recent clash, Arthur’s knuckles were completely wrapped in bandages while John’s skin and clothes were still streaked with blood. They stood silently, knowing that too many hands would only add to the chaos, their presence a silent vow of solidarity and strength. Tommy caught their eyes, a brief exchange of looks that spoke volumes. At that moment, words were unnecessary.

Time seemed suspended, each moment stretching into an eternity filled with Lydia's cries and Tommy's whispered reassurances. Polly's focus was unwavering as she worked, her hands moving with a surgeon's precision despite the emotional weight of the task. Finally, with a deftness born of experience, she extracted the bullet.

The metallic clink as it fell into a dish was a sound that seemed to echo with finality, a signal that the worst was over. Relief washed through the room, palpable and profound, like a wave breaking against a weary shore. Lydia's cries subsided into soft whimpers, her body relaxing slightly as the immediate agony began to fade, replaced by a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.

Polly bandaged Lydia’s side with meticulous care, her touch embodying both the clinical precision of a healer and the tender affection of a mother. As she tied off the bandage, she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Lydia's forehead. "There now, darling," she murmured, her voice a soothing lullaby. "It's done. You're such a brave girl."

Tommy's hold on Lydia did not waver; he kept her close, his cheek resting atop her head, his heart swelling with relief and pride. The tension that had gripped him slowly began to ease, though his arms remained wrapped protectively around her, a fortress against the world. "You did it, Lydia," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, each word a gentle caress. "It’s over, you did it."

Lydia nestled deeper into his embrace, her small body fitting perfectly against his. She was exhausted but comforted by the familiar presence of her family. "I was brave," she murmured, a small, tired smile playing on her lips, the pain of the moment already beginning to fade, replaced by the warmth of her brother's love and the safety of her family.

"The bravest," Tommy agreed, shifting slightly so she could rest more comfortably against him. His hand continued to stroke her hair, his touch gentle and reassuring, his presence a sanctuary of safety and love. As the room began to settle, the tension slowly dissipated like mist under the morning sun.

Ada leaned forward, brushing a stray lock of hair from Lydia's face, her touch tender and full of affection. "You were amazing, Lydia," she said, her voice a soft murmur that seemed to wrap around them all. Finn stood at the foot of the bed, his shoulders relaxing as the crisis passed, his eyes filled with admiration for his little sister's courage.

Gradually, the others began to leave the room, understanding that what Lydia needed most now was rest. They departed quietly, their footsteps soft against the floorboards, leaving Tommy and Lydia cocooned in the quiet intimacy of the dimly lit room.

As Lydia's eyelids grew heavy, her body finally succumbing to the pull of sleep, Tommy adjusted his hold, ensuring she was as comfortable as possible. In the quiet aftermath of chaos, as the candlelight flickered softly and the shadows danced less ominously, they were reminded once again of the power of family. Lydia drifted into a much-needed sleep, feeling safe and cherished, her brother's words echoing softly in her dreams.

Tags: @novashelby @lau219 @peakyswritings

Please like, comment and reblog.

[zeroducks-2]

Honestly I love the fanon families in DC but I very much acknowledge that the vast majority of it is not canon consistent. I almost feel like they’re two different universes in the way that Earth Two is different from Earth one. To me the media that supports the family feel good stuff like Wayne family Adventures is an entirely different continuity like Else world stories. They’re the same characters just written and played with in a much different way.

Wayne Family Adventure is indeed an elseworld, like the Lego DC movies or the Arkham videogames or the White Knight saga.

"canon" when it comes to DC is not a single entity because DC means many many things. Jason having been tortured by Joker and then allying with Scarecrow is canon for the Arkhamverse, but surely it isn't for the comicverse. Eobard pretending to be a scientist named Harrison Wells is canon for the CW Flash TV show, but not for the comicverse. Selina Kyle being Carmine Falcone's daughter is canon for the Batman 2022 movie, but not for the comicverse. And same goes for whatever happens in Wayne Family Adventures - the stuff in there is canon for its own context, not for the main comics canon continuity.

Now when it comes to "fanon" that's a different thing. I've seen people act like DC fanon is some sort of monolith with specific rules but it very much is not, fanon means various takes that are so widespread that people start to act as if they were canon, even if they don't come from the source material and they were born directly from the fandom. An example is Tim Drake being a coffee addict or Stephanie Brown loving pancakes. This is stuff which is either very loosely based off of canon or with no bearings with canon whatsoever, but a good chunk of the fandom acts like they were canon facts. Some folks are aware that they're not, some aren't, most don't care.

Now, the concept of Bruce Wayne being a Tired Sitcom Dad™ with all his sidekicks living in Wayne Manor like some sort of big family is a fanon concept. A few years ago people started acting like this was canon, and new people coming in would see it and also assume it was canon (Wayne Family Adventure both comes from fanon concepts and served to fuel them, because at some point people started using WFA panels as "proof" that all that actually happened). There has been and still is a pushback of people saying no, this is non-canon, stop acting like this stuff happened in the main comics continuity, but they pretty much get drowned by the mass of people who instead scream that "good dad Bruce is the only real Bruce" and that every instance of abuse or toxic behavior you show them is out of character and should be disregarded. (It is worth noting that many of these folks have actually never read DC comics, and if you suggest they do they will call you ableist and a gatekeeper when you're lucky - when you're unlucky they'll tell you to go kill yourself)

I want to add as a footnote that there are many cases (probably most cases actually) in which fanon stuff is awesome, and makes fandom experiences more enjoyable. The whole multiverse dynamic of the Undertale fandom is a fanonical masterpiece just to name one. There is a specific issue with fanon in the DC fandom in particular, but it's absolutely not the case for all fandoms - the existence of fanon dynamics is not a bad thing per se and it's a natural consequence of big fandoms existing and evolving over time. The problem with the DC fandom is that the fanon material doesn't work WITH and ALONGSIDE the canonical elements of the story. It is rather in extreme direct contradiction with the established source material, and people flat out refuse to accept that their "sunshine and rainbows" version of things isn't the real deal.

It's worth mentioning that when it comes to the Flash family we have a bit of a different situation. The abuse there is more subtle, it's less "Bruce punched Dick in the face" and more "these people are treating Barry's depression like an inconvenience". It's less "Bruce slit Jason's throat to save the life of Jason's murderer" and more "the moment Barry isn't the perfect picture of strength and happiness his family will act like he's doing it on purpose to spite them". It's way easier to dismiss because lots of people are unable to even pick up on it, and especially when it comes to Wally and Iris, 90% of the fandom does not allow them to be complex characters with dark impulses who are very capable of hurting the people they love and who love them. Wally because he's supposed to be a shining perfect hero, and Iris... well, Iris is a woman. Unfortunately most people refuse to even begin taking into consideration the idea that a woman can be a gray character, therefore women in fandom spaces are treated like either irredeemably unlikable bitches, or perfect angels who could never do anything wrong. Iris falls into the second category for nearly every single person in the Flash Fandom I've seen so far.

But anyway, I ranted enough. As I mentioned in the comments of my previous ask, I too have written fluffy "batfamily" dynamics or made Wally act sweet and protective towards Barry, but I am able to make a difference between what I like, what I'm using for my fanfiction and what actually is canon.

[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

[ask-daria-morgendorffer]

LUTUALVERSE WRAP-UP: After the Dance

@askoverlordvox can't sue me for this because this interaction technically doesn't even exist. Looks like The Powers That Be got bored and decided to load more busywork onto me (again) which is why I've been tasked with delivering the all-encompassing Lutualverse Wrap-Up. Come join me on this recap of sad gays and what they're doing on your dashboard. 'Tis the season for Flashbacks, because we have backstories in spades. @ask-sera has been taking @ask-emily-em-emmy on a traumatic trip through Heaven which totally doesn't foreshadow anything going on in the current timeline.

And we can't forget about the love-at-first-bite saga between @exorcist-ava and @exorcist-canine, something that all started when a young, smoke-free Ava rearranges Canine's nose with her teeth for tormenting @seraphim-adina, and then continued when they met again later and vandalized some property in the name of romance and artistic expression. This hectic little love story continues with some second date pole-dancing and ends with Canine accepting Ava's aromanticism by breaking up with her. Young love. Never works out.

@your-favorite-therapist has been busy in the past with helping our resident cousin of the cobra chicken @seraphim-sarai find her mentor and with helping Ava, still (mostly) smoke-free, embrace her inner New Yorker, bringing Ava one step closer to the bushy-browed street rat we all know and (somehow) love.

Another blast from the past to keep an eye on is the first meeting between @sinner-peyton and @ask-sadie-morgan during their living years. Peyton before her character development era? Gee, we all know how that will end.

And now in the current timeline, we have @the-cozy-shark opening for business after a conversation between @zestialmorde and @helluvahotelfan. And because this is a Lutualverse event, we can't have peace for five minutes.

Like any sane person, @ask-kori decides to kidnap and torture Ava, all while Canine and Sarai get kidnapped by the newly appointed Goetia @prince-pruflas as they try to get to the Envy Ring. On that note, I should probably mention that @ask-king-paimon decided to remember that @official-stolas was his son just so he could disown him after the whole trial ordeal. @your-favorite-spyho died but got better, and ends up returning to Hell to commit an act of public indecency with Adina after she comes to take him back. @sinner-obie is hard at work turning Peyton into a decent person through the power of love and sweatpants. On the NRWE-verse side of things, @joyer-is-joy has been hard work trying to build a harem from canon and non-canon entities alike. Why? Hell if I know. I just work here. So that's it for today's fascinating wrap-up. @ask-jane-lane, if you're reading this...

-🤓

[naarlar]

I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I think I can finally put into words why 600 strike just did not work for me.

It's the tonal dissonance. It's the breaking of immersion.

600 strike in my opinion does not keep up with the tone of the musical or even the tone set by Get in the Water. Think about it: we go from a tragic song about a god adamant about killing a man just trying to get home, both tired but completely at odds… to a song of a mortal man jetbacking and striking a god with his mortal sword before stabbing said god with his own trident. And somehow not getting killed by said god he is torturing in the process, with no indication from the song or visuals that he is being aided by divine intervention. It completely destroys any tension from the previous song and paints Poseidon as not really a threat (after all he just got owned by a mortal).

I'm sorry the saga was great and the music was amazing but honestly? I just couldn't take the last song seriously at all, which sucks bc that is supposed to be the highest moment of the musical in terms of themes and pay off.

Absolutely no hate to Jorge though, that man is my hero and an inspiration (especially as a writer and painter). I’m being serious he is an amazing and cool person and he should be proud of himself for what he has managed to create. I hope he can be fulfilled in his life as he continues to create art for himself and others.