#string skipping modes

[guitarguitarworld]

MINOR TOPIC-EASIER WAY TO IMPROVISE WITH MODES

Minor topic-improvising on modes mad easier for guitar

CLICK SUBSCRIBE! minor topic-an easier way to improvise with modes of music IMPORTANT: Please watch video above for detailed info: Hi Guys, Today, a quick look at another way of exploiting modes/improvisation on the guitar fingerboard. We will be creating music via concepts/musical tools based on this minor shape. Why do this? Because with this 5 fret shape arpeggio we can easily…

[solxamber]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSj1MUa7G/

I feel like this is something my Yuu would sing in the Mostro Lounge

Jealous!Yuu with Azul, Trey and Rook plss(seperate and romantic)

the song is so good omg, I've had it in my head since I saw this req. I've also reinterpretated the req a little bit, hope that's okay!

thank you for waiting so long <3

(also reader is pretty assertive in this)

Azul, Trey, Rook x Jealous! Reader

Azul Ashengrotto

The Mostro Lounge was buzzing, as always. Azul, in full business mode, was the perfect mix of charm and professionalism, pulling strings and striking deals with that silver tongue of his. It wasn’t hard to see why people were practically falling for him left and right.

And you? Oh, you were fuming.

It started with that one overly enthusiastic customer, leaning across the counter, giggling at everything Azul said. Then, a group of students practically lined up to thank him for his "kindness" (which you knew was probably tied to some convoluted contract). The final straw? Some guy who straight-up asked Azul if he wanted to "grab coffee sometime," while twirling his hair like he was in a cheesy romance movie.

You slammed down your empty drink and stood up so fast the chair screeched. Enough was enough.

The moment Azul stepped away from the crowd to retreat to his office, you were on him.

"Azul."

He froze, hand on the doorknob, and turned to face you. "Ah, is there something I can—"

You grabbed his tie and tugged, not too hard, but enough to shut him up and pull him closer. His glasses slipped down his nose as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Listen here, Azul," you started, voice low and firm. "I’ve been watching people fawn over you all night, and frankly, I’m this close to losing my mind."

"I-I beg your pardon?" he stammered, his usual eloquence completely deserting him.

"You know exactly what I mean," you huffed, glaring up at him. "You walk around, flashing that business smile, charming everyone without even trying, and it drives me crazy. When are you going to stop playing hard to get and make me yours already?"

Azul’s face turned a shade you didn’t even think was possible. "W-What?! I… I don’t—"

"You know I belong in your arms," you continued, taking a step closer, making him back up against the wall. "So what’s the holdup, huh? Or do you like torturing me by letting me watch all these people drool over you?"

Azul opened and closed his mouth a few times, utterly speechless. His glasses were fogging up slightly, and his hands hovered awkwardly at his sides as if he didn’t know where to put them.

"You’re jealous?" he finally managed to croak out, voice barely above a whisper.

"Beyond jealous," you admitted shamelessly. "And I’m done hiding it."

Azul’s blush deepened, and he cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure. "I… I had no idea you felt this way."

"Well, now you do." You leaned in slightly, smirking at how flustered he looked. "So? What’s it gonna be, Azul? Are you gonna make me yours, or do I have to endure another night of watching people throw themselves at you?"

He straightened his glasses, avoiding your gaze, but the small, shy smile that crept onto his lips gave him away. "I… would be honored to make you mine," he said softly, then added, "And for the record, I don’t care about anyone else throwing themselves at me. I only care about you."

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but grin. "Took you long enough to admit it," you teased, finally letting go of his tie.

Azul chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… suppose I have a lot to learn about expressing myself."

"Don’t worry," you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers. "I’ll teach you."

And judging by the way his blush deepened, he didn’t mind the idea one bit.

Trey Clover

The scene in the Heartslabyul kitchen was one you’d seen countless times before. Trey, sleeves rolled up, apron tied snugly around his waist, calmly mixing batter in a bowl as the scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air. He always looked so perfectly in his element here, like nothing could ever faze him.

Unfortunately, your patience had absolutely been fazed.

"Did you see that? Trey is so cool and kind!"

"I’m thinking of confessing to him this weekend—do you think he likes roses or sweets more?"

The voices of swooning freshmen played on a loop in your mind, fueling the fire in your chest. Everywhere you went, someone was singing Trey’s praises. It didn’t help that he was everything they said and more—charming, steady, warm. He was the complete opposite of Riddle’s strictness, and freshmen flocked to him for it.

But they didn’t get to adore him like that. Not if you had anything to say about it.

you stormed into the kitchen, your footsteps firm and purposeful. Trey, ever composed, glanced up from his work and greeted you with a soft smile.

"What a surprise. I was just about to put these in the oven. Want to—"

"Cut the sweet talk, Clover," you interrupted, marching straight up to him and slamming your hands on the counter. His smile faltered slightly, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, setting the bowl aside and leaning casually against the counter, as if your obvious fury didn’t rattle him in the slightest.

"Yeah, something’s on my mind," you snapped. "I can’t take it anymore, Trey."

His brow arched slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Can’t take what, exactly?"

You stepped closer, effectively pinning him against the counter. Your tone softened, but your words carried the weight of everything you’d been holding back. "I can’t take watching people fall all over you. Every day, it’s the same thing—'Trey this,' 'Trey that,' 'Trey-senpai is so perfect.' And now I hear someone’s planning to confess to you this weekend?"

Trey tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You seem awfully worked up about this."

"Of course I’m worked up! I—" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you, Trey. You know I belong in your arms, so when are you going to stop torturing me and make me yours?"

For the first time, you saw Trey genuinely falter. His eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. But just as quickly, he regained his composure, his smile softening into something warmer, more genuine.

"So, you’re jealous," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

"Obviously," you muttered, crossing your arms. "And if you knew all along, you’re even more infuriating than I thought."

Trey chuckled, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "I had a feeling, but I didn’t want to rush you. I was waiting for you to say it yourself."

"Well, I’ve said it now. What are you going to do about it?"

His smile turned fond as he reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I guess I should finally put you out of your misery, huh?"

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’ve been mine all along, you know," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

Your breath hitched, and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "You… could’ve told me sooner," you mumbled, looking away.

"Where’s the fun in that?" he teased, though the sincerity in his tone betrayed how much he meant it. "Besides, it was worth the wait to hear you say it so passionately."

"Ugh, you’re a villain," you muttered, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Trey chuckled, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Villain or not, you’re stuck with me now."

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rook Hunt

Rook Hunt was everything you could want—and everything you couldn’t have. At least, that’s what it felt like.

His poetic words and boundless charm had drawn you in long ago, and you were certain they’d ensnared countless others just as easily. He was magnetic, otherworldly, impossible to ignore. And the way he spoke to people—praised them—was just… who he was. You understood that. You accepted it. But it didn’t stop the burning jealousy from clawing at your chest every time someone looked at him like he hung the moon.

Like today.

“I think Rook might be interested in me,” someone had whispered. “He said my laughter was like a melody carried on the wind!”

You’d laughed it off at the time, acting unaffected as you walked away, but the words echoed in your mind, leaving you restless and frustrated. Of course, Rook hadn’t meant it like that. You knew better than anyone how whimsical and effusive he could be. But it didn’t matter. Every glance he cast, every flowery compliment he offered, made you feel like your claim on him—if you even had one—was slipping through your fingers.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

By the time you found him in the courtyard, you were trembling—not from anger, but from the weight of everything you’d been holding back. Rook stood by a tree, gazing up at the branches with a soft smile, the winter sun casting a halo around his golden hair. When he noticed you approaching, his face lit up, and he greeted you in his usual fashion.

“Ah, mon trésor! How radiant you are today! To see you is to feel the sun’s warmth, even in the cold of—”

“Rook,” you interrupted, your voice tighter than you intended.

His smile faltered, replaced by an expression of mild concern. “Is something wrong, my dear?”

You stopped just a step away from him, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “No, not wrong. Just…” You hesitated, swallowing hard. “I need to say this before I lose my nerve.”

Rook tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes, and the sight of him—so open, so beautiful—made your heart ache.

“I know how you are,” you began, your voice shaking. “I know you love to compliment people, and that’s… fine. It’s part of who you are. But…” You looked away, embarrassed by the heat rising to your face. “I hate the way they look at you. The way they think they might have a chance with you.”

“Mon ange…” Rook murmured, his voice softening.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you said quickly, meeting his gaze again. “I could never ask you to change that. But I… I want them to know. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

There it was. The truth, laid bare between you. Your heart pounded as silence stretched, and for the first time, you saw Rook genuinely stunned. His eyes widened, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

Then, slowly, a smile broke across his face—wide and radiant and filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Ah, mon amour,” he breathed, his voice trembling with emotion. “You are magnificent.”

Before you could respond, Rook closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as he gazed at you with a reverence that stole your breath.

“Do you know how long I have waited to hear those words?” he whispered. “How I have longed for this moment?”

Your breath caught, your eyes searching his. “You… you waited?”

“Of course,” he said, his smile softening. “How could I not? You are the one who holds my heart, mon trésor. I could not give it to anyone else, no matter how many compliments I offer.”

The relief that washed over you was overwhelming, and you laughed—soft and shaky, but genuine. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Rook chuckled, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. “And you are extraordinary. Shall we make it official, then? Let the world know that we are one?”

Your heart swelled, and you nodded, a smile breaking across your face. “Yeah. Let’s.”

Rook beamed, his joy so infectious you couldn’t help but laugh again. And as he pulled you into his arms, spinning you around with the kind of exuberance only he could muster, you knew you’d never have to wonder if you belonged in his heart. You were already there.

Masterlist

[sunmoon-starfactory]

Potions A Plenty - Potion Brewing Set

Pulling from most every other set of Sun&Moon for potion ingredients, this set gives the sims the ability to brew various potions that affect moods, skills, life states, aging, pregnancy, health, and a variety of other mostly harmless effects.

The Quick Feature Review/Set Breakdown below the cut.

Download - SFS

View Use/Instruction Manual

The Potion Crafting Bench - The heart of the set itself, the potion bench is where components are stored, prepared, and combined into batches of potions. At this station, sims can do the following.

Practice potion making and brew a total of 56 potions that have varying effects when drank by sims

Earn Logic Skill and Science Enthusiasm

Stock materials

Order Supply Bundles to facilitate quicker potion making

Obtain a Writ of Mastery in potion crafting

Keep a tidy workstation by keeping things clean

A set of “basic” potions, and their ingredients will be considered REQUIRED for function. Do not remove those files. Let the manual guide you.

This set is MAC-compatible and requires Smarter EP Check, Easy Inventory Check, Easy Lot Check and Money Globals. These are HARD requirements. The set will NOT FUNCTION without these files.

Access to these is dictated by logic skill level as well as a writ of mastery/Creature Life State/Traits.

This station has 28 decorative slots, as well as a decorative mode to enable/disable effects and an "in use" look at will.

Story Mode Enabled - Skip all the ingredients and steps, just enjoy the end products, or just run the animations on a station for the ease of taking pictures.

*New Feature* - Station Cleanliness. As the station is used, it will obtain dirty points. This dirty level affects the outcomes of potion crafting and increases failure chances. Make sure to keep the cauldron clean to ensure quality products!

*New Feature* - Supply Ordering. For a flat rate, sims can buy a bulk order of various materials needed for any potion. They will be added directly to the station's crafting counts.

All potions can be found in Hobbies/Logic. Complete Dutch and Portuguese translations. If you'd like to translate into your native language, please share your strings with us and we'll update the set proper!

Inventory Tools & New Items

Botanical Book - Pretty and useful. Inventory Tool.

Writ of Mastery - Apothecary Version. Inventory Tool.

Crate of Jars - 6 glass jars needed for potion making.

Cauldron Dregs - Waste produced from cleaning the station or failing in potion making.

Bonus Items

Reference Tome - In game recipe book for all potions

Counter Split OMSP - Give maxis counters a chance to hold more things!

Display Shelves - 9 decorative slots, two versions.

Apothecary Todd Cart and Pavilion - Previously released sets bundled into this set; they have been optimized and renamed, please remove the old versions.

Potion Specifics

Potions come in 5 types: Basic, Folk Remedy Potions, Arcane Potions, Creature/Lifestate Potions, and Poison Potions. The more fantastical the potion, the more complex it is to make.

Please be aware that depending on your playstyle you will have to add more files from other sources or you can delete certain files from this set without worry; For example, if you do not play your game with creature life states or custom creature life states, you may delete anything related to those potions, provided it is not used in another “basic” potion.

Potions are NOT recolorable and will not be made so in the future. If you wish to alter the bottle/potion colors yourself, this may be done in the properties/categorized properties tab of each subset txmt in SimPe, using the stdMatDiffCoef line.

Potions Vs. Teas: You will notice that many potions have the same effects as previously released teas from the Quali-Tea set. So what’s the difference? 

Teas are based on cooking and logic skills only. Potions function more on Logic skill level and a Writ of Mastery, OR Witch/Warlock state, and other traits.

Teas are single cup per crafting interactions (except basic hunger teas). Potions will always produce in a batch of 6.

In some cases, Teas require MORE ingredients to make, whereas Potions require LESS ingredients but higher Logic skill and rarer/less natural ingredients.

While potions can have the same effect as a similar tea, more risk is involved with taking them and sims can experience adverse/opposite of intended effects.

[brights-place]

Hiii so first of all I love ur writings!!!

So please can i request Malleus, Idia and Riddle with a reader who bites their nails, plays with things in their hands and scratches themselves due to anxiety (mostly on public places and situations)? I've been struggling a lot recently but im trying to improve! Tysm for the chance and if u r not okay with writing it thats totally okay, i will still love ur work 💖

[TWST] Malleus, Idia, Riddle x Anxiety! Reader (Seperate)

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: As a person who bites their nails I agree with the whole issue but I'm so proud of you on improving I hope you continue to work harder!

Summary: Malleus, Idia and Riddle all have a loving partner who tends to bites their nails, plays with things in their hands and scratches themselves due to anxiety mostly on public places and situations so they do their best to help their partner in anyway with their anxiety!

- Malleus is not unfamiliar with discomfort in public spaces - He’s been avoided and feared his entire life and though his reasons differ, he knows what it feels like to stand among others yet still feel utterly alone - The first time he sees your hands tremble and your fingers nervously tug at your sleeves before retreating to bite at a nail or scratch at your skin, he doesn’t say anything. His gaze simply lingers, unreadable to most… but thoughtful - Later, while walking beneath the moonlight together for your daily walk, his voice gently cuts through the silence - “Your fingers… you harm them when you feel overwhelmed, don’t you?”

- You expect worry, maybe even disappointment but instead, Malleus kneels slightly to your level and offers you his hand, palm up - “May I offer mine instead? You may squeeze as hard as you like. I am… not so fragile.”

- From that day forward, he keeps something enchanted in his coat pocket just for you a smooth obsidian worry stone from Briar Valley, enchanted to hum with soft warmth when your pulse races - If you start biting your nails in public, he subtly leans close, shielding you slightly with his tall frame muttering if you were alright and if you needed air - No judgment. Only understanding, and Malleus’s fierce, quiet protection

- Idia? Oh, he gets it. Deeply on a level few others would

- When he sees you chewing at your nails or scratching your arms during an awkward gathering, his first instinct isn’t to stop you it’s to match you instantly

- He starts fiddling with his own hoodie string, eyes darting everywhere but you. He’s second guessing everyones interactions with one another

- Later, when you’re both hiding in his room surrounded by neon light and muted anime soundtracks, he brings it up the only way he knows how in the most random blabber

- “Not to go full gamer therapist mode, but uh… I noticed you, like… glitch IRL sometimes. Same. We’re both running too many background processes.”

- He doesn’t offer a “solution” he offers solidarity and options... or use Ortho... he has used ortho as a shield to get away from social situations that would trigger his anxiety so he thought you could too

- “So I made you a thing... It’s a handheld console shell but like… modded into a stim toy. You can click the buttons, spin the joystick, whatever. Bonus: it looks cool, so normies won’t ask questions.”

- When you're in public, Idia won't make a big deal if you start scratching or fidgeting he just silently slides something into your hand your stim console, a squishy anime keychain, maybe even his sleeve if nothing else as he muttered how awkward it was

- If things really go south? He doesn’t hesitate to whisk you away

- “Hard pass on the public dungeon. Let’s go back to the safe zone, yeah?” You don’t have to explain he understand completely especially if your a good reason to skip out on extroverted conversations

- Riddle notices things every flinch, every worried glance, every mark on your skin from scratching when the tension becomes too much he catalogs it all, even if he doesn’t fully understand it yet - At first, he reacts with concern coated in sharpness the way his mother would say to him “Stop that you’ll hurt yourself!” - It’s not anger it’s fear and guilt follows quickly once he sees the startled look on your face - He apologizes later not just in words, but in action a hand-sewn pouch appears in your room, containing a set of small sensory trinkets a fidget ring, a soft textured stone, a scented balm he researched himself It’s all in shades of red and white, like Heartslabyul - “I… may not know how to fix this for you but I want to help. Tell me what eases your thoughts, and I’ll do everything I can to make it happen.”

- In public, and mostly in loud places like the heartslabyul un-birthday parties if he notices you starting to scratch, he subtly takes your hand and presses one of the fidgets into your palm - If it gets really bad, he’ll gently steer you away with a polite excuse to others “They’re feeling faint. I’ll escort them out.” - His perfectionism may not let him fully grasp what anxiety feels like, but he understands pressure and he’ll fiercely stand between you and anything that adds to it

[joelsrose]

Howdy Cowboy

I am crazy but I am free - I need to study but can’t stop writing for my pookies

No warnings just tension and teasing and !hotcowboyJoel, reader is in her early/mid 20sss

You sighed, giving yourself one last look in the mirror, running a hand down your sides, smoothing out the simple black mini dress that clung to your skin. Paired with a pair of old cowboy boots you’d dusted off from the back of your closet, the outfit wasn’t exactly your usual style. But tonight wasn’t about you—it was Sarah’s birthday, and she had been planning this cowboy-themed party for months, insisting on holding it at the local rodeo bar. She hadn’t stopped talking about riding the mechanical bull, her excitement practically contagious.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you thought of Sarah—her curls bouncing, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she finally got her moment on the mechanical bull. But even with all that anticipation, it wasn’t what had your heart racing the most.

It was Joel.

The second his name crossed your mind, a wave of butterflies exploded in your stomach, making you feel both giddy and a little breathless. The theme was cowboy, which meant Joel would definitely be in something dangerously fitting. Your mind drifted—what if he wore those perfectly worn jeans that sat just right on his hips, a cowboy hat tipped low over those deep brown eyes of his, maybe even an old shirt clinging to his chest in that way that made you look twice?

You could almost picture it—Joel walking into the bar, the dim light hitting him just right, his easy smile and that slow, purposeful stride making your heart skip a beat. It made you feel like a teenager with a crush all over again, the kind that leaves you breathless and flushed, and completely unsure what to do with yourself.

The thought of seeing him tonight, in the soft glow of the bar lights, dressed like that—it made your pulse quicken.

•••

You felt a flutter of nerves as you stepped inside, the buzz of energy from the bar wrapping around you. The dim lighting cast a warm, golden hue over the rustic wooden beams, making the place feel both intimate and alive. For Sarah’s birthday, the bar had been completely transformed—twinkling string lights hanging from the ceiling, a sea of cowboy hats and boots filling the room like something straight out of her dreams. Laughter rang out from every corner, the soft twang of country music humming in the background, setting the perfect tone for the night. It was exactly the kind of celebration Sarah had always envisioned, and a quiet thrill of excitement stirred in your chest, knowing how much this moment meant to her.

Spotting Sarah wasn’t hard; she stood near the mechanical bull, already in full party mode. Her wild curls framed her glowing face, and she was dressed to perfection—a denim mini skirt, a fitted white top, and, of course, the pièce de résistance: a rhinestone-covered cowboy hat perched on her head, catching the light with every move. A Birthday Girl sash draped across her chest, sparkling just as brightly. You couldn’t help but chuckle and shake your head at how perfectly Sarah she looked—radiant, confident, and completely in her element.

“Hey!” Sarah squealed the moment she spotted you, throwing her arms around you in a hug that radiated pure excitement. "You made it!"

"Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world," you grinned, pulling back to take in her outfit. “You look incredible, by the way.”

Sarah’s face lit up even more, and she gave a little twirl, the rhinestones on her hat sparkling with every movement. "Thanks! Feelin’ like a proper cowgirl tonight," she winked, her energy infectious. "Now, go get yourself a drink from the bar and hurry back—I’ve got big plans for us!" she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You turned to move towards the bar, and that’s when you saw him—leaning casually against the wooden counter, drink in hand, the rim of his cowboy hat casting just enough shadow to hide his dark eyes. Joel. The breath hitched in your throat as your gaze settled on him. He looked even better than you had imagined—broad shoulders filling out his worn, flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms, strong and lightly scarred from years of hard work, flexing subtly as he lifted the glass to his lips. His faded jeans hung low on his hips, the belt buckle glinting under the dim bar lights, and that damn cowboy hat perched perfectly on his head, tipping ever so slightly forward as he brought the glass to his lips.

Your heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing to just him in that instant. Most men would look ridiculous dressed like that, a caricature of what a cowboy should be. But Joel? The way he wore it, the way he owned the look, made you think all kinds of unholy things. You scolded yourself for how easily the blush crept up your cheeks, painting you crimson in a way only he knew how to. It was ridiculous how just the sight of him made you feel like a teenager again. You’d seen him countless times before, but tonight, bathed in the golden glow of string lights, with the brim of his hat casting shadows over his sharp features, Joel looked every bit the rugged cowboy from your wildest daydreams—strong, untamed, and lighting a fire deep inside you that you couldn’t ignore.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you made your way to the bar, your heart pounding a little faster with each step. Joel hadn’t spotted you yet, his focus seemingly on the drink in his hand, his body leaned casually against the counter as he spoke to the person beside him. The closer you got, the more the nerves started to build. You could practically feel the heat rolling off him. Pretending to study the drink menu hanging above the bar, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel. His dark eyes, shaded beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, flicked up just as you turned your head, catching you mid-scan. His lips curled into that slow, knowing smile that always seemed to unravel you from the inside out, making your heart stutter in response.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Joel teased, his voice smooth and warm, like honey dripping slow. Before you could even form a response, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug that was far more intimate than it should’ve been. The faint scent of whiskey on his breath mingled with the earthy tones of his cologne, the combination stirring something deep and unnameable inside you. His chest pressed against yours for a moment that stretched just a bit too long, his hand sliding gently across your back, the warmth of his touch both firm and tender. When he finally pulled away, his smirk—the one that always made your heart stutter—was firmly in place, his eyes twinkling with a kind of mischief that left you breathless.

Joel leaned in just a bit closer, the space between you shrinking as he tilted his head slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, his voice a smooth, lazy drawl that made the offer feel like the most natural thing in the world, like it was just the two of you, here and now.

You smiled, trying to steady yourself under his gaze. Your eyes flicked to the drink menu for a split second before meeting his again, the weight of his attention making it hard to focus. Biting your lip, you shrugged playfully. "Yeah, but I can't decide."

Joel tipped his head, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his whiskey, his eyes never straying from yours. “Can’t go wrong with whiskey,” he murmured, lifting his glass slightly, his deep drawl wrapping around you like velvet, warm and teasing.

You arched an eyebrow, mirroring his playful tone. “A little strong for me, don’t you think?”

His smile deepened, a hint of challenge flickering in his gaze. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dipping lower. “Thought you could handle a little heat.”

A blush crept up your neck, spreading across your cheeks, and suddenly your usual witty responses seemed to vanish. He was being forward tonight—really forward. This wasn’t like his usual stolen glances or the casual brushes of his hand. Joel Miller was flirting with you. And it wasn’t subtle.

“Wanna try?” he asked, his voice dipping lower, rich with mischief. His eyes flickered in a way that left no room for doubt, tracing your lips before he subconsciously licked his own. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and paired with the gleam in his gaze, it sent a shiver straight through you.

You hesitated for a second, but before you could answer, he was already lifting the glass to your lips. The smooth rim of the glass touched your mouth, and as you took a slow sip, your eyes locked with his, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The whiskey burned down your throat, a warmth spreading through your chest, but it was his gaze that made your breath hitch. Your head tilted back slightly as you swallowed, and he watched, his eyes darkening, intense and unwavering.

The moment stretched between you, the tension tightening like a wire pulled taut, neither of you breaking the connection. His gaze followed the movement of your throat, the subtle rise and fall as you drank, and when you lowered your head again, the air around you felt charged, heavy with everything unsaid.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of Joel’s lips, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous and teasing. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. “Good girl,” he drawled, the words soaked in heat, went straight to your core.

Your heart stuttered at the words, heat flooding your cheeks. The intensity in his gaze hadn’t lessened, if anything, it had deepened. He leaned just a fraction closer, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin, his eyes slightly hooded as they took you in, tracing the curve of your lips and the flush on your cheeks.

You were overwhelmed, every hair on your body standing on end, your thoughts a hazy blur as you tried to figure out if the moment you were sharing with Joel was real or some kind of daydream. Joel had been bolder tonight, more direct, and it was almost too much. The weight of his touch, the intensity of his gaze—it all lingered, leaving your skin flushed and your pulse racing. You needed to break the tension, to say something before you completely lost your grip on reality.

“You know,” you began, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips, “I gotta say, you pull off the cowboy look better than I expected.” Your tone was light, playful, but the flutter of nerves in your stomach betrayed the weight of the moment still hanging between you.

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and rough, sending a ripple of warmth through you. His eyes flicked down to his boots and then back up, settling on you with a glint of mischief. “That so?” he drawled, raising an eyebrow as he leaned in just a bit closer, the space between you tightening. “And what exactly were you expectin’, huh? Me in my old t-shirt and worn-out jeans?”

You shrugged, biting your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Maybe. It’s kinda your signature look, isn’t it?”

“It’s comfortable,” he replied with a casual shrug, his eyes glinting. “But sometimes you gotta switch it up. Thought I’d embrace the theme tonight.” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before flicking up to the top of your head. “Where’s your cowboy attire, anyway?”

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Figured the boots were enough,” you said, glancing down at your feet. Joel's gaze followed, but his eyes didn’t stop there. They trailed slowly up the length of your bare legs, lingering for just a heartbeat longer than necessary before meeting yours again.

Joel clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “Nah, you’re missin’ somethin’,” he teased, tilting his head slightly, his eyes scanning you with an exaggerated slowness, as if picturing you fully in theme. “Can’t go to a cowboy party without a cowboy hat. Gotta complete the look.”

Before you could respond, someone called his name from across the bar. Joel let out a quiet sigh, turning slightly to see who it was. The reluctance on his face was unmistakable, the easygoing warmth from moments ago fading just a bit as the interruption pulled him away from you. A flicker of disappointment crossed his expression, like he was just as unwilling to let go of the moment as you were.

He turned back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Looks like I gotta take care of somethin’ real quick,” he said, his voice laced with quiet reluctance.

For a brief second, neither of you moved, the air thick with unspoken words. Then, with a decisive nod, Joel reached up, pulling the cowboy hat from his own head. The brim caught the warm light, casting a shadow over his face as he held it in his hands.

“You’re missin’ this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, rough around the edges in the way that always sent a thrill through you. Before you could even process what he was doing, Joel gently placed the hat on your head, tilting it just right with careful hands. His fingers brushed through your hair as he adjusted it.

You looked up at him, eyes wide, heart pounding in your chest. “Joel…” you started, unsure of what to say, but he wasn’t finished.

“Looks better on you anyway,” he added, his voice softer now, almost a whisper, as if he wasn’t just talking about the hat. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, a quiet promise lingering in the space between you. For a moment, everything around you—the noise, the laughter, the people—faded into the background. It was just the two of you, standing there in the dim light, the air thick with something unspoken.

Joel’s fingers lingered for a second longer, brushing against your cheek, before he pulled away. He gave you one last lingering look, his lips curving into a small, private smile as he stepped back.

“Don’t lose it, now,” he said with a wink, his voice carrying a hint of something playful, though there was a deeper meaning hidden beneath the words.

And just like that, he turned and walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd, leaving you standing there with his cowboy hat resting on your head, your heart pounding and your thoughts a jumbled mess of everything that had just passed between you. The warmth of his presence still lingered, even though he was no longer standing beside you, and as you lifted a hand to touch the brim of the hat, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

•••

For the rest of the night, you tried to focus on the conversations swirling around you, laughing at the right moments, nodding along when someone spoke. But no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel. Every sip of the whiskey he’d left for you—a drink too bitter for your liking—became a reminder of him. The taste lingered on your lips, but not as much as the memory of his hands on your waist, the low murmur of his voice, the heat of his gaze.

But what made it impossible to forget was the way he kept finding you, catching your eye from across the room. Every time your gazes locked, it was as though the world around him faded—he'd stop mid-conversation, his attention drawn solely to you, as if no one else existed. His eyes would linger, dark and intense, leaving you breathless and yearning for the moments you had been closer.

His hair, now slightly tousled from where the hat had once sat, made him look even more rugged, and every time he looked at you, it was as though the air between you thickened. The party became a blur, the conversations blending into background noise, because the only thing that mattered was the way Joel would glance at you with that slow, deliberate look that made your heart race. He’d look at you like he was memorizing the sight, like he was already missing the moments when your paths would cross again.

Then, Sarah’s voice rang out, cutting through the hum of conversation and the twang of country music. She stood on a chair, her curls wild under the string lights, hands raised high as she grinned mischievously. “Alright, y’all, before we cut the cake, we’ve got one more thing to do,” she announced, her voice loud and full of excitement. “Who’s ready for the bull?”

With the energy buzzing in the air, Sarah bounded over to the bull. The crowd followed, gathering around as she made a show of adjusting her cowboy boots and tossing her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair. You couldn’t help but laugh as she flashed you a quick wink before climbing on. She threw one arm in the air dramatically, gripping the saddle with the other, and the crowd went wild.

The bull jerked to life, and Sarah let out an exaggerated "yee-haw!" that had everyone howling with laughter. She clung to the bull, her curls bouncing wildly as she tried to maintain her balance, her boots slipping in the stirrups. It didn’t take long—maybe ten seconds, if that—before she lost her grip and tumbled off, landing in a pile of giggles on the padded floor.

Amid the cheers and clapping, Sarah stood up, taking a playful bow as she caught her breath, her curls bouncing with the movement. Then, her eyes locked onto yours with a devilish glint. Her smile widened into a mischievous grin, and with one finger pointed directly at you, she shouted, “Your turn!”

You groaned internally, feeling the heat of all eyes on you. For a moment, you seriously contemplated making a break for it, envisioning a swift escape out the back door before anyone could push you toward the beast in front of you.

But before you could act on your plan, two strong hands found your waist from behind, steady and familiar.

“Come on, darlin’. You’re up,” Joel’s deep voice drawled near your ear. His hands were firm but gentle, guiding you toward the bull like you didn’t have a choice in the matter. And truthfully, with him so close, you weren’t sure you wanted one.

The crowd parted as Joel walked with you, his presence commanding as always. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of whiskey and something earthier filling the space between you.

You stood beside the bull, feeling a little ridiculous but mostly nervous. Not because of the bull, but because of Joel—his hand still lingering on your waist, the heat of his fingers burning through the fabric of your dress. He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, the subtle brush of his chest against your back making your skin tingle with awareness. Joel leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dropping low—dangerously low.

“Let’s see how well you ride,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, each syllable laced with suggestion.

The innuendo hit you hard, making your stomach flip, heat pooling low in your belly and rush of blood rushing to your cheeks at the implication in his voice.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, his hands tightened on your waist. With an effortless lift, Joel had you in the saddle, his strong grip making you feel weightless, completely under his control. The brush of his fingers as they left your hips was like fire, leaving you reeling, breathless, as you adjusted to your seat on the bull.

After Joel lifted you onto the bull, his fingers didn't pull away immediately. Instead, they lingered, resting on your bare thigh where your dress had ridden up just slightly. His rough fingertips began tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin—small, hidden movements shielded by the way his body subtly blocked the view from anyone else around. It was an intimate touch, just for you, as if he was testing the waters, seeing how far he could push without a word.

His touch, though soft, was firm enough to make you dizzy, each little circle drawing you further into the heat of the moment, making it impossible to think about anything else but him.

Your breath caught, and when you glanced up, his eyes were already locked on yours, dark and intense, like he was daring you to react. His thumb lingered on your thigh for just a heartbeat longer, pressing slightly before he stepped back, leaving you breathless.

The bull’s leather seat was cool beneath you, its surface slightly worn and slick under your palms as you gripped the reins, trying to steady your racing heart.

As you settled onto the bull, you tried to focus on anything but the way Joel’s touch still seemed to burn on your skin.

Before you could prepare yourself, the machine beneath you jerked to life and the crowd around you erupted in cheers and laughter. But it all felt distant, as though you were caught in a bubble, the world slowing down.

You gripped the bull’s rope handle tightly, your knuckles white against the worn leather, trying to steady yourself as it bucked forward. The motion was rough, your body swaying with each unpredictable movement, the muscles in your legs straining to hold on.

Your dress rode up just a bit more with each buck of the bull, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joel still watching you, arms crossed, his gaze intense, unwavering. His lips quirked into that signature smirk of his, and it sent a thrill through you, making it even harder to concentrate on staying upright.

The bull bucked harder, throwing you back, and you squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up in your chest. But even through the laughter, you felt the weight of his stare, the way his eyes traced every movement, every stumble, every sway. Your thighs burned from holding on - But the hardest thing wasn’t the bull—it was resisting the pull of Joel’s gaze, the weight of it still on you.

He hadn't moved an inch, standing just close enough for you to catch glimpses of him between the wild jerks of the bull. His dark eyes locked on you, unwavering, and every time your gaze met his, his lips curled into that slow, lazy grin that made your heart race. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, how his steady gaze ignited something inside you that made it even harder to concentrate. The thought alone made your stomach flip, a rush of heat flooding through you despite the cool night air.

With a playful grin of your own, you reached up, pulling the cowboy hat from your head and doing what you’d seen in every movie—swinging it in one hand as you tried to ride out the last few bucks. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, but all you could focus on was Joel’s reaction, the way his eyes darkened just a little more, that grin of his growing wider as he watched you, completely captivated.

The bull twisted sharply to one side, and your grip faltered. You let out a squeal, laughter bubbling up from your chest, but you could feel yourself slipping. Your body swayed dangerously, your dress hitching up even further, and just as you were about to fall, Joel stepped forward, his eyes flashing with something you couldn’t quite name.

With one final, hard buck, the bull sent you flying off, tumbling onto the padded mat below with a breathless gasp. The crowd erupted into laughter and cheers, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears and the sound of Joel’s low chuckle as he stepped closer, offering you his hand.

“You alright there, cowgirl?” he teased, his voice thick with amusement. His hand, strong and warm, wrapped around yours as he helped you to your feet, pulling you up with ease.

You laughed breathlessly, brushing off your dress, trying to regain some sense of composure as your heart raced for an entirely different reason now.

You grinned, still catching your breath from the ride, and before you could think twice, you teased, “I think I need more practice.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by the lack of subtlety in your voice. For once, you had surprised him. His gaze flickered with something that made your heart skip, but just as quickly, he composed himself, the corner of his mouth twitching into that familiar smirk.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice smooth and low, “maybe I can show you how it’s done sometime.”

Your pulse quickened, a dizzying rush of heat flooding through you at the boldness of his words. It took everything inside of you not to grab him by his flannel and close the distance between you right there and then. The intensity of the moment, the weight of everything unsaid, had your breath catching in your throat. His eyes never left yours, the smoldering desire in them making your heart race as if he was daring you to make the next move.

Before you could respond, Sarah called your name, waving from across the room. You turned, ready to head back to her, but stopped short, suddenly aware of the weight on your head.

Joel’s cowboy hat.

You reached up, ready to hand it back to him.

“Here, you should take this.”

But before you could take it off, Joel’s hand gently stopped you. His thumb brushed over your knuckles.

“Nah,” he murmured, his voice low and rich with meaning.

“Keep it… for our next lesson.”

Your breath hitched at the weight of his words, the promise wrapped in them, and before you could think of something witty to say, Joel gave you one last lingering look, his eyes glinting with something unspoken before he stepped back into the crowd.

As you turned back to Sarah, your heart was still racing, Joel’s hat resting snugly on your head, a promise of something more hanging in the air.

[azzifudd10]

Somewhere To Land

Chapter 8: Just Say Yes

Wednesday — 10:47 a.m. — Wings Practice Facility

“Bro. You have to do it.”

“I can’t just do it.”

Paige was pacing in the locker room, gripping her water bottle like it might offer some clarity. Nai was lounging on the bench, lacing up her sneakers with a look that screamed big sister mode.

“Azzi is not gonna bite your head off if you ask her on a date,” Nai said.

“You don’t know that,” Paige replied. “What if it makes things weird? What if she’s not into me like that? What if she’s just being nice and thinks I’m like... sweet or safe or whatever?”

“You’re safe and hot. That’s a combo,” Nai said without missing a beat.

Paige groaned, flopping dramatically onto the bench beside her.

“I haven’t been this nervous since the Final Four in 2022.”

“Worse,” Nai said. “Because this time, the only thing on the line is your heart.”

Paige stared at her. “You’ve been watching rom-coms again, haven’t you?”

“Mind your business and ask the girl out.”

6:03 p.m. — Paige’s Apartment

It took Paige an hour to write the text.

Then delete it.

Then write it again.

Then delete it again.

Finally, with her heart pounding in her ears, she stood up, marched across the hallway like she was heading into battle, and knocked on Azzi’s door.

It opened a second later.

Azzi had Eli on her hip, wearing soft sweats and a hoodie. Her curls were piled on top of her head, cheeks slightly flushed from playing with the baby.

She looked beautiful and Paige forgot half of the words she’d rehearsed.

“Hey,” Azzi said, smiling gently.

“Hi—uh—so…” Paige cleared her throat. “Okay, I’m just gonna say this.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay.”

“I really like you. And I know things are complicated and Eli’s your whole world and I live across the hall and that’s a lot—but if you’d ever wanna go on a real date with me, like... just us, out somewhere, where I try really hard not to say something stupid—then I’d really like that. A lot.”

Silence.

Paige's heart was screaming.

Azzi blinked. Then smiled so wide it crinkled the corners of her eyes.

“Yes.”

Paige blinked. “Wait—yes yes?”

“Yes, yes, Paige. I’d love to.”

Paige opened her mouth, closed it, then turned bright red.

“Cool. Coolcoolcool.”

6:11 p.m. — Paige’s Apartment (Again)

She slammed her own door shut behind her and immediately dialed Nai.

The second Nai picked up, Paige didn’t even say hello.

“She said yes.”

A pause. “Wait, for real?”

“I asked her out, she said yes, and now I’m gonna pass away from cardiac arrest.”

Nai burst out laughing. “Girl. Breathe.”

“I can’t. She was holding Eli when she said it. I think I imprinted.”

Friday — 4:26 p.m. — Azzi’s Apartment

Nai showed up in leggings, a hoodie, and a crossbody baby bag like she lived for this.

“Let me at my nephew!” she squealed, snatching Eli up from the playmat.

Azzi laughed, adjusting her earrings in the hallway mirror. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Absolutely. I already made bottles, got snacks, downloaded Encanto, and cleared my night. We’re chillin’.”

Paige peeked in from the doorway, her heart doing backflips. Azzi was wearing a sage green dress that tied at the waist and sneakers. Effortless. Beautiful. Entirely unfair.

“You ready?” she asked softly.

Azzi turned to her with a little smile. “Yeah.”

Paige grinned and held out her arm. “Then let’s go.”

Nai winked at them both. “Be good, lovebirds.”

5:13 p.m. — Paige’s Car

“I haven’t been on a real date in like... forever,” Azzi admitted, buckling her seatbelt.

Paige shot her a side glance. “Same.”

“So what made you finally ask?”

“You. Laughing with Eli. Singing to him. Letting me in even when I could tell you were scared.”

Azzi looked over at her, heart skipping. “I was scared.”

Paige nodded. “I still am.”

Their eyes met for a second that felt like a lifetime.

“But I want this anyway,” Azzi whispered.

Paige reached over and gently brushed her pinky against Azzi’s on the console.

“Me too.”

6:02 p.m. — Small Bistro, Outside Seating

They sat under string lights, menus open, legs brushing occasionally beneath the table.

Azzi laughed halfway through her iced tea. “Did you really trip over your shoelace in your first WNBA game?”

“I tripped over my own foot. My shoelace was innocent.”

Azzi grinned, eyes bright. “That’s adorable.”

“Don’t use that word,” Paige mock-whined. “I’m trying to be mysterious and cool here.”

“Nope,” Azzi teased. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

7:40 p.m. — Walk Back to the Car

The air was cooler now, the streets quieter.

Paige reached out, tentatively, and laced her fingers through Azzi’s.

Azzi didn’t pull away.

In fact, she tightened the grip.

“I forgot what it felt like to just... laugh with someone,” Azzi murmured.

Paige squeezed her hand. “You deserve that every day.”

They walked in silence for a while, just soaking it in.

8:11 p.m. — Azzi’s Apartment

Eli was snuggled against Nai’s chest, sound asleep.

“How’d it go?” Nai whispered.

Azzi looked over at Paige, who was watching Eli like he was made of stars.

She turned back to Nai, voice quiet. “Really good.”

Nai smiled. “Told you.”

11:38 p.m. — Paige’s POV

She couldn’t sleep.

She kept replaying it — Azzi smiling, Azzi reaching for her hand, Azzi saying yes.

Her phone buzzed.

Azzi: Tonight was perfect. Thank you again.

Paige stared at it.

Then typed:

Paige: I’d do it again tomorrow if I could.

Three dots appeared.

Then:Azzi: Me too.

[hazbinhotei]

new clothes.

read part one here

warnings/tags: none

word count: 1239

summary: Just like he had promised, Alastor takes you on a shopping adventure around Pentagram City—and to your surprise, you actually enjoy it.

alastor x gn!reader — can be read as platonic or romantic! going a little crazy with the part twos recently. i made this fic purely under the lens of alastor and reader simply being platonic, but feel free to interpret it in any way you'd like. i also use the word 'like' 15 times in this scenario, so apologies if it's a bit repetitive. #sorrynotsorry

Pentagram City was not known for its subtlety.

Neon signs blinked obscenities in cursive fonts. Billboards advertised clothing lines made of little more than string and the occasional regret. The streets were paved with broken glass, demon spit, and the faint sound of muffled screaming. But none of that mattered—not when Alastor was practically skipping beside you, humming a jaunty tune like this was a Sunday stroll through some post-war Parisian street market.

He was, admittedly, in his element.

“I do hope you brought stamina, my dear,” Alastor chirped, his voice radiating from nowhere and everywhere, the ambient static dancing over your skin like a light breeze. “We’ve quite a few stops ahead of us! I’ve curated only the finest boutiques—places that still value craftsmanship, taste, and the glorious art of layering!”

You tried to match his pace, clutching your shoulder bag a little tighter as a succubus in stilettos passed by wearing a dress that could barely qualify as dental floss. “Honestly, I’m just hoping to find one place that doesn’t sell fishnets by the square inch.”

“Oh-hoho! Then you are in excellent company!” Alastor’s grin glinted, resembling a sharp knife in the sun. “Come! Our first stop—Mortimer’s Macabre Mode! The tailors there are to die for."

You paused. “Isn’t that the place with the eyeball mannequins that blink when you get too close?”

“The very same! Aren’t they charming?”

“...Sure.”

You weren’t quite sure what to expect when Alastor announced your destination was on the outskirts of Cannibal Town, since the name alone usually conjured images of blood-slick sidewalks and dismembered marketing strategies. You’d never dared venture this far in—too many rumors of flesh-hungry demons and butcher stalls that trafficked in more than meat. But to your surprise, the area just beyond the gates of the city had a different flavor.

The further in you walked, the more the grotesque gave way to elegance in disguise—grime softened into old-America glam. Nestled between a bustling butcher shop (was that a hand in the window?!) and a jazz bar pulsing with sour notes stood Mortimer’s Macabre Mode, its window display lit by gentle golden bulbs and mannequins dressed like they’d stepped out of a Victorian ghost story. The storefront was quaint in a lavish sort of way, with intricate ironwork curling along the awning and a doorbell that chimed similar to a music box.

The moment you stepped inside Mortimer’s, the atmosphere changed like someone had turned a dial. The lighting dimmed, the scent of aged leather and old cologne curled into your nose, and the walls gleamed with polished wood and beige velvet drapes. Despite the off-putting way the mannequins tracked your every move, the clothing was… breathtaking.

Long coats in rich jewel tones. Waistcoats embroidered with thread so fine you swore it shimmered. Button-downs with high collars, delicate cufflinks, even ascots in a dizzying array of shades.

“Oh wow,” you whispered, fingers brushing a black frock coat with embroidered lapels. “This is…”

“Sublime?” Alastor supplied, practically vibrating beside you. “Go on, pick a few things! Try them on! Let’s reinvent you, darling!”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t dress me however you wanted,” you said slowly, arms crossed as you eyed him with suspicion.

Alastor, perched nearby like a proud curator, clapped his hands once, eyes glittering with mischief. “And I shan’t! But I do know what cuts flatter you, dear. You’ll thank me, I promise.”

He gestured grandly to a nearby display, as if unveiling treasure, static humming lightly around him like a drumroll. You hesitated, eyes flicking from one display to another, trying to make sense of the foreign language of cuts, collars, and fastenings. Everything was beautiful, yes—but intimidatingly so.

Still, the way he hovered at your side, practically purring with enthusiasm, made it hard to dismiss your bubbling excitement entirely.

Two dressing rooms and four outfits later, you were forced to admit something slightly horrifying: Alastor was… really good at this.

“You’ve got an eye,” you said through the curtain, tugging at the cuffs of a dark forest green blouse tucked into high-waisted trousers that managed to be both elegant and surprisingly comfortable. “I mean, I feel like a museum curator. In a good way.”

“Well of course I’m good at this!” Alastor replied, voice smug but not unkind. “My dear, I’ve been dressing myself since the early 20th century. Back when people knew how to put an ensemble together without looking like they lost a bet.”

He tossed a matching overcoat over the curtain rod. “Here, try this with it. The color brings out the mischief in your eyes.”

You tried not to blush.

Still, you had to admit—it felt good. To look at your reflection and see something more composed, something deliberate. The outfits had a way of grounding you, sharpening your silhouette into something powerful. There was a thrill in the transformation, even if it was just for a moment.

Eventually, the shopping bags started to pile up.

You’d acquired a modest but marvelous collection: a few button-ups, structured blazers, tailored bottoms or two, and a pair of leather ankle boots that made you feel like you could boss around an army. It was more than you’d intended, but Alastor had insisted on covering everything—"A gift! From one proper dresser to another!"

And now, here you were: perched on a park bench tucked away in one of the quieter alcoves of the city, sipping lukewarm tea from a paper cup while Alastor lounged beside you like a hunter parading his recent kill of a particularly fashionable bird.

“Well?” he asked, eyes glowing as he adjusted his monocle—for flair, not necessity. “Do you feel transformed? Enlightened? Less like a half-naked tourist and more like someone of taste?”

You gave him a sidelong glance and smiled, a soft little thing, genuine and easy. “I feel like… I look more like myself, weirdly.”

Alastor quieted for a beat, a rare lull in his constant chatter.

Then: “How wonderfully peculiar,” he murmured, almost deferential. “To discover oneself through clothes… Ah, fashion truly is the soul’s most underappreciated mirror.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t disagree.

And as the day wound down, the two of you walking side-by-side through the less populated streets, your matching long coats flapping behind you like capes, there was a new sort of understanding between you. A deeper camaraderie, built not from romance, nor shared damnation, but something stranger and perhaps more valuable:

A shared appreciation for dignity in a world that had so gleefully discarded it.

And, of course, for lapels.

“Next week,” Alastor said beside you, his tone far too casual to be innocent, “we explore hats.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Berets!”

“Alastor—”

“Top hats.”

You sighed, but your smile betrayed you. “Fine. But only if I get to see you try on a newsboy cap.”

He gasped, clutching his chest as though mortally wounded. “The audacity!”

You smirked. “I dare.”

Alastor sighed dramatically, but you could see the way his usual grin widened in amusement. He grabbed your hand, tucking it neatly in his arm as he started walking once more. “This, my dear, seems to be the start of a wonderful friendship!”

You let out a soft laugh in response, warmth blooming in your chest from his words. You grabbed onto his arm with more reverence, the two of you walking back to the twinkling hotel in the distance.

Oh yes—Pentagram City wasn’t ready for you two.

tag list: @railgunuzi @frompiscium @rose-in-blue @catticora @milkissesx + @ghostofajinx [want to join/be removed from the tag list? check my pinned post!]

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: another installment of the mini tik tok series! this one was fun and aggressively smutty lol. i’ve been having fun with the tik tok fics and there’s so much more i want to work on this summer (which lol can’t believe it’s august 🙈) enjoy! 🤍

word count: 3.5k

tw: dirty talk, unprotected sex, fingering (f recieving), cum play, semi-tit job, brief oral (m recieving), semi-public sex

summary: mat comes home from golf to find you set up for another tik tok video, much to his surprise and excitement

You tap lazily over to the Find My Friends app, searching for Mat’s little circle on the map. He’s smack in the middle of the green blob that represents the Glen Oaks Club, right next to Bo’s little circle too.

Sharing locations with half the team is wild, but was absolutely a necessity after last year’s summer trip to Italy where half the guys had gotten lost during a vineyard tour, drunkenly singing a bastardized version of ‘New York, New York’ when they’d been found.

Since then, it’s been location sharing city for your little group.

It’s especially useful when Mat’s at the golf course and you want to have an idea of when he’s on his way home. Today, you’re letting him have his time on the course since training camp opens in two days and soon he’ll be in full hockey mode. But you do have a little fun planned, a Tik Tok trend that you’d seen earlier in the summer and have been waiting to test out on Mat. He’s a good sport about joining in your videos - between you and Liana, he’s used to being used as an unwilling participant in your videos and likes making random cameos. And this video is more for his benefit than yours.

It’s a beautiful mid-September day on the Island and the UV is an 8, so you decided to take the setting of your video outside and you’re posted up on a lounge chair with your book and Stanley until Mat comes home.

After polishing off nearly half of your book, you check Mat’s location again and you’re surprised to find that he’s on the move - heading back home. You hadn’t realized so much time had passed.

He’ll be home in ten minutes, according to the app, so you hop off the lounger and get everything set up, adrenaline making your heart skip a beat. You shake out the towel on top of the lounger and straighten it, moving your book and Stanley off to the coffee table. You check the app again and Mat’s down the block, his little circle stopped at the intersection that has a traffic camera, where you’ve both gotten caught more than once.

Once his car turns onto your block, you take the final step and untie the strings of your bikini, stepping out of the bottoms and tossing the scraps of fabric off to the side. You shiver a little, even though it’s not cold at all and sit back down on the lounger, bending your knee and then straightening it out. You scrunch up your face and bend it again - there’s a slight breeze on your bare cunt and you wiggle, unbending your knee again.

“Fuck this is so awkward,” you grumble to yourself, tipping your head back and closing your eyes against the warmth of the sun.

After a few seconds of soaking up the heat, you check your phone again and Mat’s little icon is right on top of your blue dot. He’s home and you grin when you hear his car door slam shut in the driveway. You give an excited little wiggle and open Tik Tok on your phone, thumbing over to start recording.

The back doors are open so you can hear Mat come through the front and kick off his shoes. One hits the wall with a faint thump and you roll your eyes, knowing there’s going to be a little scuff mark on the wall.

Quietly, into the microphone of your phone, you say, “Mat’s home and I’m naked in the backyard. I’m going to call him out to see something and I’m sure he’ll give us all a reaction for the ages.”

From inside, you can hear him call out for you, “Squeaks? Babe, I’m back.”

A giggle bubbles on your chest and makes your voice shake a little when you call back, “I’m outside. Can you come take a look at something for me?”

“I’m not catching another lizard,” he shouts out, footsteps getting closer. “Leave them alone on the deck.”

You roll your eyes to yourself - it was one time, twice tops, but Mat will never let you forget it. “No lizards, just come here,” you call, moving the phone slightly away from your mouth and making sure the back doors are squarely in the frame.

He appears in the doorway a second later, dressed for golf in his shorts and polo, with a brown paper Chipotle bag in his hand. “I picked up lunch and I’ll even sha—“ his sentence stops short when he steps onto the deck and catches sight of you. You grin to yourself and watch as he processes what he’s seeing.

Mat’s eyes are wide and his jaw is slack briefly before a slow smirk stretches his lips. “Squeaks…” he trails off your nickname, his voice suddenly rough.

“Mhm?” You hum, still holding your phone slightly to the side. To your amusement, the front of Mat’s shorts tighten in front of your eyes, the fabric straining over his cock. He so clearly doesn’t know where to look, eyes bouncing from your phone to your face to your tits to your thighs.

To be extra wicked, you sit up and stretch your legs open, feet on either side of the lounger so Mat has the perfect view of your cunt, bare and dripping wet.

His jaw works and he carefully sets the Chipotle bag on the deck table. “I’m not even gonna ask what Tik Tok trend this is, but thank God for it,” he mutters, yanking his polo over his head and sending his hat flying off in the process. His hair is messy around his face, sticking up in all directions and you can’t wait to get your hands in it.

You giggle. “I told you I wanted you to come look at something,” you reply, watching with hungry eyes as he kicks off his shorts, the belt still half buckled, and crosses the grass in a few long strides. He’s standing in front of you in just his boxer-briefs, black and tight over his growing erection.

Mat grips himself roughly over the fabric and you watch the tendons in his wrist flex.

“Yeah,” he huffs a breath out of his nose, “I’m definitely looking at something.” His hand sinks under the fabric of his briefs and you watch his hand move, stretching the fabric obscenely while he pumps his cock once, twice, three times. “And now I’m gonna get my hands on her.”

Your hand falls slightly to the side, still recording on your phone and you have the brief thought that you’re definitely going to have to edit the shit out of this video before Mat’s yanking down his briefs and kneeling at the foot of the lounger, his hands wrapped around the outside of your thighs. He pulls, dragging your body closer to his and you let out a little yelp at the sudden movement.

Your phone goes flying from your hand, landing in the grass next to the chair and you pout at Mat, “my phone! Let me -“

“Nope,” he cuts you off with a little swat to your hip. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now, I have to look at something.”

He leans forward, his cock bobbing up against his stomach and you swallow, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re very glad you decided to put down a towel.

Mat’s hands are hot on your thighs, trailing up over your sides and splaying out over your ribcage, fingertips brushing the undersides of your breasts. He grins down at you, “looking at these tits, my favorite tits. But I think -“ he cups each one in a hand, flicking his thumbs over your nipples until they’re tight and pebbled, “yeah, they look better like this. Even better with my mouth on them.”

You whine as soon as Mat leans down and wraps his lips around one nipple, tracing a circle around it with his tongue. You can feel his cock - hot, hard, and leaking - on your stomach and you lift your hips subconsciously, trying to relieve some of the ache that’s building between your thighs. His grinds his cock against your stomach lazily and you moan his name, hands flying up to his hair to tug. Mat grunts against your breast the harder you pull and after a particularly hard yank, he bites down. The sting is enough to make you yelp and rake your nails over his scalp.

“That hurt,” you pout and he shakes his head, releasing your tit with a wet pop.

“Did not,” he counters, pupils blown wide and lips slick with saliva.

You grin and tug at his hair a bit more. “Let me bite you and we’ll see who’s right,” you reply breathily, Mat’s hands kneading at your breasts.

He slides his cock against your stomach and you gasp, fresh arousal pooling between your thighs. “Baby, we’ll get to the biting, don’t worry,” he teases, pinching and rolling your nipples until you cry out.

You hum, pulling at his hair to drag his face to yours, desperate for a kiss. Mat obliges, sliding his lips over yours and sucking at your tongue while his hands play with your breasts and his cock grinds against your stomach. It’s hard to catch your breath with all the sensation, the pleasure building steadily in your stomach.

He smells good, a combination of sweat and grass that isn’t masked by his deodorant, and you let your hands drift out of his hair and over his back. The muscles bunch and move as he does, sweat gathering between his shoulder blades.

You nip at his lower lip and Mat smiles against your mouth, pulling back slowly. One of his legs shifts, his knee sliding up and pressing against your cunt. A gasp punches from your lungs, the rub of his leg hair against your clit the friction you’ve been searching for. “Oh my god,” you whine, scratching at his back and rolling your hips against his knee.

“Needy,” Mat clicks his tongue, amused. As if his own hips aren’t moving of their own accord, gliding his cock against your stomach and leaving a trail of precome in its wake.

“You love it,” you murmur, scratching down his back. The longer you grind against Mat’s knee, the closer you come to an orgasm and it’s right there when Mat moves his hands back to your hips and pulls you down, hiking your cunt higher up on his thigh. His hands wrap around your thighs, his thumb subconsciously finding the spot on your upper inner thigh where the tiny ‘mb13’ is tattooed. He looks down and grins at the ink, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb. His cock seems to swell the longer he looks at the tattoo, thick and heavy on your chest.

“Fuck yeah, I do,” he leans in more, pushing his cock over your chest, in between the valley of your breasts. The hot weight of him on your chest makes your breathing shallower and you lose track of your movements, hips stuttering to a stop on his thigh. “You’re distracting me,” he mumbles. “Supposed to be looking at something.”

“What are you looking at now?” You murmur, breathless. Your hips move mindlessly and Mat shifts your legs, pulling them together and straddling them so your thighs are pressed tight and there’s steady pressure on your clit. You whine and wiggle your hips again, pleasure coiling tightly in your stomach.

Mat grins down at you, thrusting his hips forward so the head of his cock bumps against your chin. “Looking at that pretty face of yours,” he replies, hands finding your breasts again and playing with them. “My favorite face, especially when you look all fucked out.”

“Haven’t even fucked me yet,” you whine, darting your tongue out to lick at the tip of Mat’s cock. It jerks, twitching against your chest, and you grin wickedly, licking it again. Your hands find Mat’s thighs, tracing over the thick muscle until you let them slide over his stomach and wrap around the base of his cock.

He groans over you, curling forward when your fingers tighten around him.

“Don’t need to,” his voice is strangled. “You always look like that when I get my dick out.”

You stroke his cock firmly and press your thumb against his leaking tip, craning your neck to lick him again before sucking the tip between your lips. Mat’s chin falls to his chest, a loud grunt vibrating through his body.

“Shh,” you giggle faintly, releasing the head of his cock with a wet pop. “The neighbors are going to hear!” Even as you admonish him, you repeat your actions, gripping him tightly and drooling over his cock.

Mat shifts back, his cock falling out of your grip and slapping against your left breast. There’s sticky precome all over your chest and stomach and Mat drags his fingers through it before shoving them in your mouth. You hum around his fingers, swirling your tongue over them until they’re dripping. He’s further down your legs now, using his other hand to pry your thighs apart slightly, nudging his cock head in between your legs. He taps the leaking head of it against your tattoo, leaving a smear of precome, and then shifts so it’s pressed tightly against your clit. The pressure makes you see stars and you whine loudly, muffled by his fingers.

“Shhh,” he teases, thrusting his hips shallowly. He lets his fingers fall from your lips and you yelp loudly when those same fingers find your clit and pinch it at the same time his cock bumps against it. “Neighbors will hear you.”

“Oh my god, Mat!” Your groan shifts off into a strangled shout when, without warning, Mat’s fingers find your soaked entrance and circle it, fingers spreading you wide so he can thrust the first few inches of his cock into you. The stretch always burns briefly and then he moves, rolling his hips into yours and filling you to the brim, pleasantly full. You chant his name like a prayer, louder and louder every time he batters against your g-spot. Any concern about the neighbors hearing you is out the window with all the rest of your thoughts.

Mat’s got one hand gripping at the top of the lounge chair, his hair flopped over his forehead and sweat trailing down his temple as his hips snap relentlessly. “Look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” he groans when you clench around him. “Fucking waiting here for me, naked and ready. Goddamn Tik Tok giving you the best ideas.”

Your nails dig it to his asscheeks, dragging him closer, knees bent to open yourself more for him. “Love you, love you, oh my god,” you babble, nearly at the edge. His free hand trails down your body and presses down on your lower stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock from the outside. You shriek at the sensation, rocking your hips and meeting him thrust for thrust.

He snaps his hips again, harder, and you fall, seeing stars as your orgasm rushes through your body. You come hard and wet around his cock, squirting all over his pelvis and lower stomach. Mat’s cock thickens inside of you and he comes a second later, filling you for so long you’re startled that he’s still hard even after his hips have stopped moving and he’s collapsed on top of you. The sweaty weight of his body makes it hard to catch your breath and you can’t help but wiggle underneath him, digging at his thigh with your heel.

“Gimme a sec,” he mutters against your neck, shifting his hips. You gasp, sensitive and overstimulated and still stuffed full of his hard cock.

“How’re you still hard?” You breathe, pushing at his sides, trailing your fingers over his muscles.

Mat finally rolls off of you, wedging your body against his on the lounger meant for one. You cling to him so you don’t fall off. “How is that even a question?” He laughs, trailing a hand over your back and in between your legs. You wiggle against his touch, his cock pressed against your stomach and his fingers rubbing your mixed fluids against your inner thigh. It’s messy and disgusting but you don’t have any desire to move. “I’ve been hard for you from the minute I met you. Squeaks.”

“Perv,” you tease, licking a bead of sweat from his jaw.

His laugh is loud, echoing around the yard. “As if you’re not the one who started this,” he pinches at your inner thigh. “Sitting out here butt ass naked, filming a Tik Tok.”

“Oh my god!” The mention of the social media app sparks in your brain and you remember your phone, in the grass and still recording. You try to scramble over Mat’s lap, but he locks you in place with his arms. “Let go, oh my god. I have to delete that video. It’s hard core porn!!”

“Soft core,” Mat counters, laughing. “It’s just our voices.”

You growl at him, “not helping!” and wriggle in his arms until you’re draped over his side with your ass in the air and your arms stretched out to the grass to reach for your phone. Mat laughs under you, shaking your whole body and making it hard for you to reach your phone. He pats at your ass, a little nonsense rhythm and you kick your foot in the air, knowing it won’t hit him.

“You should send me the video,” he says as soon as you’ve managed to snag your phone. “I like hearing you scream my name.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, blood rushing to your face the longer you stay practically upside down over Mat’s lap. You stop the recording and your thumb hovers over the button to delete the video. A small part of you actually wants to rewatch it and see Mat’s reaction again. The smarter part of you wants to make sure your soft core porn never leaks on the Internet.

Your brain struggles to focus with the way Mat’s kneading at your ass, his voice soothing as he speaks, “download it, it’ll just be for us. Can’t even see anything.”

“Stop trying to be the little devil on my shoulder,” you complain, but your thumb moves away from the delete button and you find yourself canceling the action instead.

Mat laughs again, your favorite sound, and slides his hand in between your legs, playing lazily with your clit. You wiggle and gasp, clenching around nothing. “Put it in a locked folder,” he continues, dragging you slowly to the edge.

You can’t think with lust and arousal fogging your brain and by the time Mat’s fingered you to a second orgasm all thoughts of deleting the video are gone.

“Hey,” Mat says, his chest vibrating under your cheek. You’re slumped over him, legs straddling his hips, completely limp and boneless.

“Hmm?” You hum, wondering briefly if the sting on your ass is from Mat’s hand or the beginnings of a sunburn.

“You have any other Tik Tok videos you want to make?” He teases, playfully gripping your ass. “I like these naked ones best.”

He yelps when you bite down on the muscle of his pec, a little nip, and taps at your cheek with his free hand. “You’re such a gremlin,” he says over your laughter.

You lean your chin on his chest, looking up at him with a wide smile on your face. “Takes one to know one,” you shoot back, kissing his jaw. “Now carry me inside, I want my Chipotle bowl.”

“You mean my Chipotle bowl?” Mat retorts. Still, he sits up and takes you with him, your arms looped around his neck and legs locked around his waist.

“What’s yours is mine,” you giggle, waving a hand in the hair behind his back. “Happy wife, happy life. All that Hallmark-y stuff.”

He stands and you cling tighter, the slip of your sweaty skin against his making your thighs flex around his waist so you don’t fall. “Not a wifey yet, Squeaks,” he teases, locking his hands under your ass and carrying you over to the deck. Your phone’s back on the grass, but you’ll make Mat go get it in a second, along with both of your discarded clothes.

“Less than a year,” you point out, wiggling your left hand in front of his face.

He kisses your finger and in a sappy little move, says, “counting down the seconds until you’re Mrs. Barzal.”

Your entire body turns to mush, so much love for Mat flooding your brain. You press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” you mumble.

“Love you too, my little exhibitionist freak,” Mat laughs, drowning out your outraged gasp.

You can’t be too mad at him though, not when he settles you on the deck chair and hands over his Chipotle bowl, retrieving his golf polo and pulling it over your head so you can eat comfortably and not sunburn.

[madameisaacpereire]

fluff henry-angel’s idea!! angel got birthday or christmas present from henry. ifl he’d be a good gift giver since he loved to spend money for everyone in his life.

well it doesn’t have to be fluffy but it’d be a nice happy moment for angel to cherish.

ahhh i chose birthday! this is short but it was fun to work on (: I finished this like 2 minutes ago and haven't edited or revised so I do apologize. I also want to note some floral meanings (as used here,) bc it'll enhance your reading experience. ahem: forget me nots represent true love (given in hope the recipient is not forgotten,) primroses represent the innocence of young love, blue violets here represent affection, and ambrosia flowers here mean "your love is reciprocated." because i felt like being sentimental and trite today, okay?

hand illustrated

❝ It’s too much. And yet, it’s just right at the same time. This is better than the stationary from your father, the delicate string of heirloom pearls from your mother, or even the incredible first edition Austen from Henry’s parents. It’s better simply because it’s frivolous and has no meaning, aside from pure enjoyment. Because it’s grand. Because it encapsulates the concept of a birthday perfectly.❞

Henry gives you a birthday gift.

the guardian angel collection

   He catches you between rooms by resting a hand on your elbow and your entire body tenses. Your back straightens, a smile forcing itself over your exhausted features, while a lightning bolt of anger surges through you with a speed so alarming it causes your vision to swim momentarily. The last hour spent in gracious-gift-recipient mode has drained every last ounce of your social battery- it’s what you hate most about birthdays. But you turn around and your shoulders sink back down to a slouch, your well practiced smile melting away. It’s just Henry.

  “Oh. Hey.” You smile again, though you don’t mean to. 

   It’s fond and short-lived, and mostly due to the fact that this is the first time you’ve seen him since graduation. You went from seeing him daily to not seeing him at all, a loss that echoes through you even now. 

    “I have something for you.” His voice is quiet, words whisper soft as though he’s ensuring that nobody aside from you hears his words that nobody else is privy to this, so you needn’t go on pretending. It tugs at your heart.

    “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

   Your eyes travel to his hands, one of which holds a small box wrapped in delicate paper. It must be jewelry of some sort, and you think of the earrings you’ve spent months mooning over. You stare at them often enough that your catalogue falls open to that page immediately- there is no more fervid paging through, no more searching. It couldn’t be them, anyway. You’ve wanted these earrings since long before graduation, but don’t recall a time when he might have found out. It’ll be something else. 

   “Angel,” An admonition, however fond, “It’s your birthday.”

    He has never once skipped a birthday gift when it comes to you. You both know this. Henry is a creature of habit, and it’s silly to act as though that would change at any point. So you tip your head toward the staircase leading up to the next floor, and he follows.

   Your shoes clack on the stairs so you pause, only once, to slip them off on the way to your bedroom. And when you close the door with a soft click, you refuse to think about the endless list of opportunities this might present you with, were you other people. 

  Henry sits on the edge of your bed. You could almost giggle at the sight of him juxtaposed against your pink quilt. The way it makes him look somehow larger, somehow paler than a corpse. You don’t. You instead sit beside him, just as primly, just too far to touch. He watches you the whole time, gaze intent and icy, and the moment you’re seated, he hands you the box.

   You look it over for a moment. The gift wrap, upon further inspection, is printed tissue paper. It’s folded over the box in layers, precise enough that you know he wrapped it himself, and the print is flowers. Millions of tiny forget-me-nots and primroses, blue violets, even a few ambrosia flowers. They’re hand drawn as well, you realize with a start. As though he recruited Bunny to draw these just for you.

   And while you don’t know why, or what it means, it draws out that all too familiar pit of ache behind your ribs as you unwrap the box. You do so as slowly and carefully as you can, so you might keep the paper, and give the papers to Henry once you’ve removed each piece. There are several pieces, you find, each hand illustrated, and he folds them all into neat squares for you. And then there’s the box: crimson, stamped with a logo that makes your stomach swoop. He’s gotten you something from Elizabeth Locke, and now you’re sure it’ll be those earrings.

  You flip the box open and sure enough: there lie two beautiful mother of pearl intaglio earrings, set in bright yellow gold, side by side. A thousand dollar set far too ornate for everyday wear. Something you’d never have been vain enough to request for fear of coming off too materialistic or selfish.

   “Oh,” You breathe out, eyes round.

    It’s too much. And yet, it’s just right at the same time. This is better than the stationary from your father, the delicate string of heirloom pearls from your mother, or even the incredible first edition Austen from Henry’s parents. It’s better simply because it’s frivolous and has no meaning, aside from pure enjoyment. Because it’s grand. Because it encapsulates the concept of a birthday perfectly.

   He watches you process this in silence, expressionless. Yet you know, without him showing it, how proud he is of his choice this year. How much he’s enjoying your reaction. How Henry knew you wanted these earrings is beyond you; how he knows even half of what he does is beyond you. That’s part of who he is. You’re not sure why you’re surprised.

  “Thank you, sweet.” You murmur, co-opting the name both of your mothers have used for him ever since he was small. 

   This isn’t usually a nickname he accepts from you, or anyone aside from your mothers, but it’s your birthday so he allows it. You snap the box shut and set it beside you, and allow yourself to sway toward him. You wrap your arms around his broad frame, proper distance be damned. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, with how you’re sitting, and it takes him a moment to hug you back. But he does.

   “You’re welcome.” His words are a distant, proper display of the humanity he often loses touch with while buried in his studies and you wish, not for the first or last time, you could’ve stayed at Hampden longer. 

   Perhaps then, he wouldn’t work so hard. Then again, you know he still would. You hold onto him as long as he’ll let you, snugly enveloped in his arms. It’s sweet and it’s special and it’s sentimental, above all else. And while you don’t let yourself grant this moment any more meaning than it has, it’s still pregnant with it. Because everything with Henry means something, even when- no, especially when- you don’t want it to.

   The world around you is quiet in his hold. You feel at home because he’s home, something you know as unflinchingly as your own name yet won’t give words to for many years to come. You rest your head against his chest and breathe in deeply, committing every second of this moment to memory. You have no idea how badly this will hurt to recall in the not so distant future, or on the countless birthdays to come. 

Even if you did, you wouldn’t do anything differently. 

[guitarguitarworld]

Exploring Messiaen's Mode 1: Musical Concepts and Colorful Creations

Unlocking Messiaen’s 1st mode of limited transposition Please watch video above for detailed info: Hi Guys, Today a look at Messiaen’s first mode of limited transposition: MODE 1 This is the Whole tone scale and only has one transposition: It is a “Hexatonic” scale that has a dreamy, enigmatic air to it due to lack of resolution as all of the tones are the same distance apart. The goal of…

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette gulped down the last bit of liquid in her cup, slamming it down on the table as she let out a long, steady breath. "Okay, I'm ready for my lessons!"

Then, blushing when she noticed that the cup made a louder sound than intended, she raised it up and gently set it back down again. It wasn't glass or ceramic, thankfully.

Luka chuckled, taking his time with his own drink but delighted by the enthusiasm. Leaning calmly against the couch, he asked, "Do you want to get the guitar? It's under my bed."

She nodded, pushing off her seat in what was almost a bounce as she headed into the Couffaine siblings' room. In the back of her mind, she thought it was odd to put his guitar there when he usually played it all the time, but perhaps she couldn't understand his thought process when he was in "music instructor" mode. She supposed it could've been like a ritual to get her in the right mood by having her take the guitar out of herself, or he had so many guitars that he'd started reserving the one she practiced with only for music lessons.

The worst case scenario was that her bad luck had rubbed off on his poor guitar and it had to be sealed away so as to not affect the others. Alternatively, what if she was such a bad player that she'd ruined the poor instrument and Luka had to hide it away in shame until their lessons?

However, when she crouched down and pulled out the drawer under his bed, she saw not his guitar, but something large, rectangular, and encased in wrapping paper that was bright pink with white flowers. She stayed there for a solid few seconds, stunned, then gave it a poke just to make sure it was really there.

She heard a set of footsteps off to the side and looked up to see Luka, leaning against the doorframe with his cup in hand. He said nothing, taking a small sip and looking at her with an expectant smile.

Marinette's heart skipped a beat at the implications. She stared at the object - the gift - in disbelief, muttering more to herself than him, "For me...?"

Slowly, she reached inside the drawer, slipping her fingers under each side of the present. Standing up carefully, she lifted it, only briefly thrown off by the weight distribution. She had expected it to weigh the same on both sides, but it remained heavier on one of them.

"It's really big," she said a little anxiously. "You didn't break the bank, did you? I know you have a job, but..."

He took another sip instead of answering. Whatever her concerns were, he didn't share them.

Setting the gift down on the bed, she hesitated, then picked it up again to turn it upside-down. There, she saw the edge of the wrapping paper and slipped her hand underneath, moving it from one side to the other and carefully peeling the tape as she went. It would be easier to tear the wrapping paper to pieces, but she didn't want to leave a mess of torn bits on Luka's bed, even if she knew he wouldn't have cared.

With all tape removed, she undid and spread the wrapping paper fully out, revealing a pure white box underneath. She flipped it around again so she could grab the top, then held her breath and pulled it off in one motion.

Said breath promptly left her as she saw the contents: a gorgeous pink guitar that she had never seen before. She dropped the box's top to the floor in shock and touched the instrument all over, plucking the strings, turning the tuning pegs, and running her hand along the curves. Most notable of all was what she was certain was her flower pattern adorning the front, but it didn't feel like a sticker that had been merely slapped onto it.

This was her guitar, she realized. She'd initially wondered if claiming there was a guitar under his bed was just the pretext for giving her a gift, but it was the real deal; there was a guitar under his bed, and it was a gift for her.

"It's—Luka, it's—I mean, wow—" She winced at herself, finding it hard to say anything coherent when she was getting all choked up. "I-it's beautiful. It must've cost you a fortune."

"I didn't buy it," he told her, then added playfully, "I didn't steal it either."

She looked back and forth between him and the guitar, mind racing to catch up with that information. He joked around sometimes, so she could've interpreted that someone else bought it for him and he paid them back, meaning he wasn't technically lying, but she knew that wasn't the case, which meant...

"You—you made it?" She pulled away and put a hand to her mouth. "I didn't even know you made instruments!"

"I didn't." He tipped his cup to his lips, drinking the last bit of liquid, then smiled warmly at her. "Not until now."

The implication hit her like a—well, she would've liked to think 'truck,' but that had already happened with the revelation that he'd made her an entire guitar. Her mind was spinning too much to try and come up with a proper metaphor, like having a plane dropped onto her after she got hit by the truck, or a steady stream of trucks all running her over in succession.

"It's my first one," Luka confirmed, eyes soft as he gazed upon it with her. "I've practiced before and made smaller stuff, but this is the real deal. I did the best that I could and I know it's not perfect—"

He kept talking, but it was hard to listen to such utter nonsense. Sure, she wasn't an expert on guitars or anything, but not perfect?! It was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift she'd ever received! As a creative force herself, she knew what it meant to make something from one's own passion and give it to someone else; it was like giving a piece of yourself to them.

Her eyes scanned the guitar up and down, no longer feeling worthy of touching it. She felt like she should hang it on a wall somewhere, but it would fall and break into pieces considering how things usually went for her. Sealing it away in an unbreakable box with ten locks would be best to preserve it, where she could open it occasionally to admire but never touch it.

"...It's really for me?"

She was in such a state of awe that even Luka started showing a bit of shyness, blushing faintly and averting his gaze. "You earned it after everything you put into our lessons."

Her face scrunched up, eyes narrowed at him in healthy skepticism as she gestured at his work. "You mean all the times I hurt your ears with how bad I was?"

He shook his head. "I wasn't perfect when I picked up a guitar my first time either, and you did everything right. You listened, you learned, and you followed whatever I did."

He said it as though it truly meant something to him when she hadn't seen it as any big deal. He was an amazing teacher, so it was easy to pay attention while he talked, to copy the movements he'd make with his deft fingers, and remember the positions he'd show her by guiding her hands with his own.

It wasn't just a reward for all of her efforts, but a gift from someone who kept surprising her with how much effort he put towards her. If she imagined her relationships with people like the cup in Luka's hand, she'd given each person she knew a cup of a particular size and they'd pour in what they were willing to put forth to her.

He was the only one who continuously caused his respective cup to overflow, and she teared up at the thought of him.

Luka frowned, leaving his place by the doorframe to stand at her side. "Marinette... if it's too much—"

She grabbed the lapel of his jacket and he shut his mouth, staring confusedly at her hand there. He was taller than her, so she had to pull him down somewhat and get on her tiptoes to kiss him.

It was featherlight, barely lasting a split second, but she heard the clatter of his cup against the floor nonetheless. She blushed faintly, dusting off the lapel like she'd left dirt on it and dropping her gaze.

Clearing her throat, she asked, "Um, is our next lesson about putting our feelings into music? I could—ah—really use it."

She had too much energy bundled up inside, yet no urge to move away. She shifted on her feet, tracing the toe of her shoe against the lines on the floor as she waited for some form of reaction.

When she saw Luka's own shoes come towards her, her heart skipped a beat. Fingertips brushed her bangs aside and she looked up just in time to see his toothy grin before he planted a small kiss on her forehead.

"Me too," he agreed, looking extremely self-satisfied as he pulled back. "Maybe you can give me some lessons when we're done."

She tilted her head while he walked off as coolly as always, though she noted that he completely forgot about the cup on the floor. She bent down to pick it up and put her other hand to her forehead, wondering what he meant since he certainly didn't need any lessons on music from her.

Her eyes flicked to the cup, eyeing the rim where Luka had been drinking from. Realization struck a second later, the hand on her forehead dropping to her mouth instead.

Oh.

[piratesexmachine420]

Some broader thoughts about Minecraft:

First, some nice things:

Increasing the world height and adding bigger, deeper caves was an unqualified benefit to the game. Finally we deliver on the promise of 'Cave Game Tech Test'!

I am so happy that bundles, saddles and leads are all getting easy crafting recipes. These are utility items every early game player craves! They shouldn't be locked behind something so esoteric as killing slimes, or farming rabbits, or dungeroneering.

The addition of an offhand slot in 1.9, which I was soooo opposed to at the time, was to the game's benefit. Such a great change.

I really like the 1.13 fish mobs!

More fantastical biomes will always be good for the game. Realism is not what I come to MC for, I come for the beautiful cubic vistas I can shape and build in.

Second, some critical thoughts:

Post-1.0 updates have mostly felt like Mojang thinks the game is done, and just needs to be polished. I disagree. I think that release came too soon -- before they'd sanded all the hard edges down and really came up with a coherent identity -- and over the last ~fourteen years we've gone from a rough game with a lot of sharp edges to a very shiny game with a lot of sharp edges.

Everybody loooooooves that Soren Johnson quote that "given the opportunity, players will optimize the fun out of a game" but I think they often forget/ignore the corollary -- from Sid Meier -- that "one of the responsibilities of designers is to protect the player from themselves". Players optimizing the fun out of a game is a failure of game design, not player psychology. Nobody ever made Tetris unfun for themselves! (Well, not in any large numbers, anyway.)

There are three primary interactions one has with Minecraft: Extraction, Construction, and Combat. Of these three, I think it'd be hard to argue that the first two aren't the "core appeal" of the game. Those are the sandbox parts!

There are overlaps between these of course. Digging a trench is both extraction and construction, and killing monsters for their loot is combat and extraction; but, as I've already said, there aren't that many actions which are both construction and combat. Pillaring, I guess.

Beds are insanely overpowered. They skip night, making them the ultimate construction and allowing you to bypass Overworld surface combat entirely; they're the cheapest explosive in the Nether and End by a mile, making them the best means of mining ancient debris (the endgame ore) and one of the best tools for combating the Ender Dragon; and if you don't use them Mojang will send a squad of attack drones to kill your ass. My fix is to: 1) keep beds, but remove all functionality besides setting your spawn point 2) add a new end-game item, maybe in the outer End, that allows players to skip the night at the cost of some resource 3) replace exploding beds with a simple message that you can't sleep there, like "monsters nearby". Respawn anchors are fine, I have no beef with them. (A little useless, maybe, but I digress.)

When's the last time you used TNT in survival mode? I think it is to the game's detriment that there are continuous-need resources locked behind combat/extraction, like sulphur. I propose two potential solutions: 1) make "mob farm" literal and let me breed creepers/spiders/other non-humanoid mobs or 2) make sulphur and similar resources something you can mine, like string. Sulphur already occurs underground in the real world! Now we're putting less gameplay pressure on MC's weak, slow, boring combat system and more onto the interesting parts -- building and mining, respectively. (These aren't mutually exclusive either, we could do both!)

Here's another problem with TNT: sand is a pain in the butt to get. There are two reasons for this: the first is that 90% of it occurs on the surface, meaning that to get large quantities of it you have to destroy your surrounding environment. The second is that you need so goddamned much of it! This is fine for glass, because you rarely need much and can generally dig up ten or so blocks from a nearby beach, but nobody wants to walk to a desert to get four stacks of sand for a stack of TNT! My proposal is to replace sand in the crafting recipe with clay balls. Now players want to seek out lush caves, they need to break fewer blocks, and it can all happen underground!

Racist implications aside, Villages and Villagers have always been one of the least interesting parts of the game. That so many recent updates and spinoff materials have been focused on pushing players into them is to the game's detriment, I think. I don't care about Pillagers, I don't care about Illagers, I barely care about Witches. I don't care about raids and I don't want to defend these assholes from shit. I preferred when I was the only intelligent life in the universe, thank you very much. Piglins are...better, they feel more Minecraft-ey...but again I preferred when I was the only intelligent life in the universe, and further when the Nether was an exclusively hostile environment. Wandering traders are okay, if only 'cause they're so rare, but I still would rather they weren't comical ugly greedy big-nosed subhumans dependent on golems for protection. That was a bad move.

Hunger is a terrible system. Many people have gone in depth into just how badly Beta 1.8 fucked the game, so I'll keep this short: by adding hunger: passive mobs became persistent in order to facilitate farming; sprinting was introduced to provide a mechanical interaction between hunger and the rest of the game, which makes combat infinitely easier since you can outrun almost everything; it destroys the food resource economy by requiring players to eat continuously and in far greater than numbers than before; and it wrecks the previous balance between health and restoration and inventory slots available, because if food didn't become stackable it'd be impossible to carry enough.

This one's a little more subjective: there has been a near-exponential increase in the number of blocks and the number of non-full-block blocks (candles, banners, stoncutters, slabs, walls, fences, lanterns, chains, etc. etc. etc.) in the game since the Microsoft acquisition. It's easy to see this as a good thing looking at it from this side of the inflection point -- where it only means more fidelity and more freedom for high-level builders -- but my feelings are mixed. What is this, Blockland (2007)? The game has lost a strong, if low-fidelity visual identity in favor of a widening the gap between the ugliest and prettiest buildings. You have to pick a color palette now; unlike in, say, Beta 1.7, where every block fit into the same palette. If you wanna be good, you gotta learn to break up the shape your builds, rather than lean into the game's cubic nature. That's not per se bad, but I preferred the stronger visual identity.

I would like to have more things to put in my house beyond decoration. Enchantment tables, for example, were a great addition because they take up so much space. I want there to be benefits to building big houses! More crafting equipment! More workstations! Give me kinds of rooms to build!

Leather armor is a fucking joke with post-1.0 spawning rules. Nobody makes it, it's more tedious to acquire than iron (despite being worse), and it looks like crap. Making it dye-able was a good start, but I think ultimately it should either stop pretending to be armor in the first place, or it should be easier to get, like when it was made out of wool (and wool could be obtained by punching a sheep a single time).

Mining for ancient debris is such an insane chore that you'd think I was joking if I proposed it in 2019. The fun part of mining is the spelunking, not the holding click. So why is ancient debris only found at the ONLY level without caves IN THE CAVE DIMENSION? Quartz and Nether gold are fun to mine. Why can't ancient debris be fun to mine?

Furnace minecarts are pointless and everybody knows it.

Chest minecarts are pointless -- outside that one exploit where they can be stacked on a single rail -- and everybody knows it.

Nobody gives a shit about filler mobs like polar bears.

The Ender Dragon looks and moves like nothing else in the game. Is this a good thing? Maybe. It's very uncanny, very alien. Depends on your perspective on the game's artstyle, I guess.

Mining Fatigue is a baffling debuff and it makes ocean monuments a pain in the ass to loot. Nobody likes Minecraft's PvE combat, nobody likes Minecraft's underwater physics, and everyone dreads the ocean monument. Stupid fucking sniper fish.

I think it says something about the current creative direction that the number of songs in the soundtrack has doubled since the 2013 music update. The game that 'Key' was composed for is gone. Not A Value Judgement! That's what all the other list entries are for. Music just resonates differently when a game plays different. And the game plays different.

[techav]

On Major Milestones

I left off previously with init immediately crashing when trying to run NetBSD on Wrap030, my 68030 homebrew computer. I was completely lost and didn't know where to start looking. The error code it gave, 11, didn't tell me much.

Until now, most error codes I've gotten have been defined in kernel errno.h, which has 11 defined as:

EDEADLK 11 /* Resource deadlock avoided */

That … also isn't helpful. I'm still not entirely sure what that means, but since this is process 1 we're dealing with, I didn't think it was relevant.

Finally, I was able to find someone who had encountered the same error six years ago. Helpful soul [Martin] explained the exact cause of the error, how to fix it, and why the kernel errno didn't line up:

I'm running a NetBSD live disk on a laptop as a test host, so I mounted my disk on it and spent some time with mknod adding the essential device nodes, referencing the "majors" file for my arch. Sure enough, on next boot it skipped right past the point it had been panicking. It worked for a bit then finally printed on the console:

Enter pathname o

Enter pathname of what? The machine appeared frozen. Nothing further printed, and it responded to no input.

I was afraid this would happen. That string is 16 characters. The 16C55x UART chips I'm using have a 16-byte buffer. The system is hung up waiting for the UART to interrupt to indicate it has finished transmitting everything in its buffer.

There's just one problem — I don't have any serial interrupts wired.

I have a confession to make. Until a few weeks ago when I got my timer working, I hadn't really worked with hardware interrupts before. So between a limited understanding of how to use them effectively and limited board space, I had omitted the interrupt signals from my 8-port serial card. This was now a Problem, and I was going to have to find a solution.

I had a few options:

Force the com driver to 8250 mode so it doesn't try to use the buffers

Use my timer interrupt to check status bits on the UARTs and fake the interrupts

Deadbug an interrupt handler onto my serial card

Respin the serial card

Option 4 would've been expensive and risked passing my deadline. I wasn't sure option 1 would even help. And option 3 would have been difficult and error-prone. I decided option 2 would be the way to go so I set about researching how to accomplish it

I spent a few hours digging through the com driver. In the process I found softintr(9), a native NetBSD software interrupt process that looked like just the thing I needed. Digging in a little deeper, I realized that the com driver was already using softintr. And then I realized all it needed to do polled mode serial ports instead of interrupt-driven was to set a single variable, sc_poll_ticks, before initializing the driver. It's such a simple thing, but it's not really documented anywhere I could find, so the only way to know it was even an option was to spend hours studying the code.

With that in place, I recompiled my kernel and tried again.

It was asking for a shell. This is promising. I accepted the default shell, /bin/sh, and waited a moment. It printed a single #.

I had a shell prompt.

I typed in the first thing that came to mind, echo "hellorld" (thanks, [Usagi]). It responded:

hellorld

and printed another # prompt.

I had a working shell.

This is a major milestone. I have a modern operating system kernel loaded and running on my homebrew computer, and I have a functional root shell. I can navigate disk directories and run commands and programs.

But only as root, and only on this one console. I have seven other serial ports I want terminals on, and I certainly don't want them all running as root.

What it's running here is single-user mode. It is just the kernel and a few core services, somewhat analogous to Safe Mode in Windows. It's a fall-back for setting up or repairing a system. It's not quite the full operating system just yet.

Getting the rest of the operating system up and running is going to be a significant task, on par with getting just the kernel running. Setting up a working Unix system from scratch is not easy. It requires a lot of detailed knowledge of the various programs and libraries and config files scattered across the disk. For a sense of scale, the AT&T Unix System V manual was over 1100 pages, plus an 800 page programmer's guide and a handful of other manuals … and that was 40 years ago. That's a lot of specialized knowledge that I don't really have.

But still, this is something I've wanted to do for years and after countless hours of work, I finally have a glimpse of what it can look like. I have a lot to learn and a lot of work to do yet, but I'm certain I can figure it out.

I'm still hoping I can get this running multi-user on all those terminals in time for VCF Southwest in June. The show is just a few weeks away and I have a lot of work to do.

[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

[leohtttbriar]

star trek fic recommendations

(small Note: i don't read a lot of fic and don't seek it out very often, so i am one hundred percent sure there is a lot more beautifully written star trek fics out there and if anyone has any recommendations for me i am very happy to take them!)

+ piercing music played with bloodied fingers - by 1nterlaced @firstroseofspring

T'Pring takes her fill.

This fic blew out the little we get of T'Pring in the show and created this fascinating person with history and perspective in both a convincing way and with this underlying theme of the value of "choice" in personhood--which not only springs off from canon but enriches it in such a way that I really think this should be published into the ongoing canon of this character. The language is considered and interesting and really engages with the conceit of Vulcan aliens. The craft of this whole fic is truly gorgeous and makes the ending, the climax of choice and interest and attention all established so beautifully in T'Pring as the story progresses, all the more intense in resolution and feeling.

Quote: "One week into her arrival, the sky is cloudy and starless and has been nothing else. Despite the heavy pollution on the planet, the sight is beautiful- emerald green with a constant blanket of thick white clouds. The storms in the area are incessant, roiling and loud. She’d taken a trip to the coast the day before and found that the seaside was much of the same- a ferry trip she'd planned to take to a small island was forced to re-accommodate to be taken by a safer mode of transport, and she’d watched the turbulent waters through the glass instead of feeling the water under her feet."

+ say it soft, and it's almost like praying - by @daemonologywrites

In space, she is simply Lieutenant Uhura. (Or: isn't it a little fucked up that Uhura's first name doesn't get canonized until 2009?)

An incredibly sensual and sensitive examination of Uhura's name and the intimate nature of names and language in general. Absolutely adored it as a framing for how Uhura perceives a varied universe and how she feels perceived by it in turn. The attention paid to details of sound and phrase is reflected by the language of the fic itself, which is beautifully and artfully written. Since it's canon that Uhura translates poetry in her free time (and speaks significantly about moonlight), this fic reads as exactly the sort voice needed to describe her relationship with words and with others.

Quote: "The issue being: that no matter how Uhura thows herself into the fires of dialect and idiom, there are yet those phonemes too fine to be heard by human ears, too harsh to be uttered by a human tongue. Her universal translator can analyze the sound waves and synthesize the appropriate components, but woman-to-woman, alien-to-alien, her heart skips a beat and that fine name worthy of study and finesse (she'd only heard it once in its entirety but the tune of it had lingered oh-so-long) becomes simply—'T'Pring.'"

+ Cut the Strings - by @lostyesterday

During an attempt to secure dilithium from a seemingly abandoned refinery, a terrifyingly powerful and perceptive artificial intelligence takes control of Seven’s body and holds B’Elanna hostage. B’Elanna must rely on her engineering skills and her wits to save both Seven and herself.

This fic was fascinating--it could really be one of the truly memorable Star Trek episodes. The questions coming from its story and characters and writing were all of a sci-fi short story quality and the conceit underlying the plot sticks with you. It's also a particularly good story for the character B'Elanna, capturing the things that arouse B'Elanna's sympathies and showing so movingly how she controls those sympathies and uses them to react and to think and to protect and to just be B'Elanna. The touch of real intimacy between the characters works so well at the end of the story, the way they both wanted to reach out to the other, in a way that finally overcame the tension between them, was really lovely.

Quote: “I had a body once, you know,” Lady Aria whispered. B’Elanna’s eyes flew open. The expression on Seven’s face had turned soft and wistful. “It was fully mechanical – not partially organic as this body is. But they destroyed it.”

+ Simulacra - by TheonlyDan

Philippa Georgiou will always fall into Michael’s arms. You kiss her. She angles her face just in time so your lips land on her cheek, not her mouth. So there’s your last kiss.

This fic portrays a tension between Michael and Georgiou so completely; Michael's yearning, her rationalizing, her acceptance, her non-acceptance--it's all laid out in sparse intimate moments, with evocative figurative language, arguing really well that there is both horror and comfort in being something significant to someone else.

Quote: "Georgiou is fixated on being everything to you, everything and a little extra. So there’s love."

+ patience - by @trillscienceofficer

“I thought eating azna would be enough to calm me down, but I was wrong.” Lenara didn’t hold Jadzia’s gaze for very long, like she was ashamed of something. “I’ve been missing home— I mean Trill, terribly lately.” Jadzia frowned. She’d had no idea. Jadzia and Lenara share a meal (and some feelings) at the replimat.

Everytime I think about this fic I ache. It shows precisely what it is that Lenara left for in "Rejoined," while still being a story about her staying. Lenara's distinct loneliness in this is almost difficult to read because in the moment in the fic there truly is no solution to it except (as Jadzia says in this) to grow comfortable with the discomfort. Jadzia and Lenara, in both dialogue and interpersonal interaction, are so real in this, acting and speaking as any person does about things so beyond their control. And the details in the world-building are both so interesting and lend their choices and their regrets so much depth. When Jadzia remarks that she hasn't ever been to a particular Trill festival, not in any of her lives except one (who remembers it differently), the weight of all the memories that Jadzia and Lenara carry is felt, which is so important I think to both the characters and any version of how their romance plays out.

Quote: “Depths,” she said, hiding her face behind her hands. “It’s really too late now, isn’t it? I can’t bring you the festival, not now and not ever.” She met Jadzia’s eyes, stricken, and Jadzia’s chest constricted painfully. Lenara continued: “The stupid part is, I never really cared for it before. I don’t like the smoke, or the spiced cider, or freezing outside while the fire runs out. And yet now it feels like I’ve lost this— big part of my life. It doesn’t make sense,” she finished forcefully.

+ words for the way you live - by Mirekat

The Dax symbiont, in the wilderness

There's something so special in the idea of exploring the perspective of the symbiont itself and this fic delves so beautifully into what that personhood would feel like; memory and sensation and what it means to be beloved parasite or to have a parasite, the ineffable relationship between symbiont and host. The language in this fic implies a person of deep feeling and attachment and (I might just be inferring this for my own interpretation--it's a very rich fic) makes the argument that part of the Trill conceit to gain vast experiences is sourced in the symbiont itself for the symbiont loves (in a complicated way) each body it is and mourns and continues, inevitably.

Quote: you will know symbiont. you will know parasite. you will know that you can think, and that because you can think you can choose, and that it is right for you to choose symbiont and not parasite, to choose bodies with words and long memories 

+ When Janeway met Tuvok - by mystery_ink

Janeway appears in front of three admirals after what she thought was a successful mission.

This take on Janeway is so inspired and so fascinating, I wanted to live with Lieutenant Janeway for several long years. The tension in the story unfolds so well and the realism inherent in the situation makes the characters feel so real. The indignation on both sides, the change that will happen to them both (only artfully hinted at), and the way it's not a large action that Janeway takes to concede something to Tuvok at the end but it's nonetheless significant: it's all compelling.

Quote: “Lieutenant,” Aates said gently. “We’d like to hear your side of the story.” - “What story?” Densa asked. “This is real life we’re talking about here.”

+ Speech - by raven (singlecrow)

Five languages she learned to speak, and one she already knew.

I found this fic in a crazed fit, desperate for Uhura content, by basically blocking every male character tag and relationship on ao3, and then some. It was very worth the effort. This is so creative and so interesting and so fun and so moving and exactly what I want to see explored more and more and more. The ideas of different languages described in this are delightful and watching a character encounter them and seek, determinedly, to understand them was even more so. I want whole books dedicated to the morphological constructions of the smell-language. Actually, all of them. I want a book for all of them.

Quote: The people of the Light worked with their hands. Their world was made of chromium and glass, wood and stone, smoothed with saltwater, and time. Nyota had told Spock about their intricate art, their solidity of tradition, and the elegiac sparseness of their poetry. She had talked with her hands over breakfast, about cultural continuity and fluidity, and how a world never recorded was never objective, described and experienced in flux.

[syluriar]

my lady - sylus x briar (mc)

a/n: a little rewrite of sylus' cat card so it fits my mc's personality more. mc's name is briar and will be used. i haven't wriiten fanfiction (espically smut) in a while, and it's my first time writing sylus so except mistakes.

warnings: smut. minors do not read.

word count: 4347

The piles of boxes of gifts are more than Briar could have ever imagined, wrapped in exquisite paper that she was positive costs far more than it should. Some even tied together with bows, or studded with jewellery.

How the rich live.

She wasn’t there to gawk at such things, but being a person who never had so much money to spend it on presenting a gift…she can enjoy this a little bit. It’s why she’s unwrapping them gently, savouring the softness of the paper and the shines of the studs.

Maybe I could save some for myself to use? Tara would like these.

Sylus, however, was tearing them apart within seconds. It doesn’t surprise Briar, knowing just how rich the man was, he probably thought the boxes were cheap, and not at all pretty.

Well, he might not be wrong on that part. Briar thinks as she picks up another box. Red and orange? Seriously?

“A prophecy book from 2,000 years ago?” She looks at it in shock. The book lover inside of her was interested, prophecies were a weird thing, but interesting to learn about. 

“Boring.”

Well, at least to her it is.

Opening another box, Briar raises her eyebrows at the object before her. “A Protocore cat wand? It’s powered by a Protocore and automatically switches between different modes.” She gives it a little wave, the two small golden bells jingle. 

Out of instinct, Sylus paws at the cat wand, but immediately looks away in disdain. “Tch.”

Seeing him act more like a cat, Briar can’t help but giggle and waves it again. His cat ears twitch at the sound, but he makes no move to catch it. He does, however, frown at her. “It won’t happen, Sweetie.”

Maybe later then. Rolling her eyes, Briar puts down the wand beside her and opens another box. Her eyes widen at what it contains. “Is this…a collar?” 

It’s black leather and soft in her hands. She feels around the edges, thumbs brushing over the metal latch. Why on earth would someone send this? Obviously you would get it for a cat, but Sylus is still human, and putting a collar on him…

Her cheeks go warm, the image of Sylus wearing this entering her mind. 

That would look good…

“Our fish has taken the bait,” His voice breaks her daydream which she is grateful for, and she turns to him. Inside the gift box he had opened lies a deep blue Protocore. Through the light surrounding it, Briar spots a string of floating numbers within. 

“It matches up with the intel! Snowy Owl is really interested in you…” Though the mission has been a success so far, the thought of another woman wanting Sylus doesn’t sit right with Briar. Not only is he vulnerable in the state he’s in now, but the thought of another woman touching him - 

“Why are you frowning? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Briar blinks, and jumps back as Sylus appears next to her legs. When did he get so close? She swallows her nerves before replying. “It is, I’m just wondering what to do next.” 

Sylus raises a brow and leans his head closer, but Briar averts her eyes to avoid looking at him, her cheeks starting to warm again at his closeness. 

In doing so, she spots an open box that holds a bottle. “What’s that?”

Sylus stops and follows her gaze, his white gloved hand picking up the bottle and reading it’s inscription before handing it over. Briar tries not to think of her heart skipping a beat when her fingers brush against his, and looks at the bottle.

“Some long-distance hypnotising spray?” That...actually could work. A plan quickly forms in her head. “I’ll use this against her and place a tracker in her room once she’s fallen asleep, then the Association can take over.” 

Sylus hums, one of his cat ears twitching. “So, is that me used up?”

Briar raises a brow at him, a previous conversation of them using each other plays through her mind. A lot of their previous encounters do, and she tries hard not to wince at them as she remembers how unkind she was. But she’s gotten closer to Sylus now. The man she first met is different before her, and not just because of his cat features. 

“Well, you’ve still got to get me off this yacht and back home, right?” She smiles lightly and grabs the cat wand, using the feathers to gently stroke his cheek. “You can’t leave me yet.”

She expects him to chuckle at her words, or even look annoyed at her using the cat toy on him. Instead she’s surprised when his eyelids falter at the touch, his tail starting to move around a bit faster than before. Wanting more reactions, she glides it under his chin, making him tilt his face up, his eyes boring into hers.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you, My Lady,” His voice, while soft, had a hidden tone to it she can’t quite place. 

Briar swallows her nerves once again. It’s clear that he’s enjoying what she’s doing, he would have told her otherwise if not. Feeling brave, she reaches out with her other hand and gently rubs at the tip of one of his ears, making his eyes widen in surprise.

She giggles. “You’re so cute right now, Sylus.”

“Cute, huh…” He huffs and narrows his eyes. “Even though these ears are only temporary, they’re a part of me for now.” He shifts his body so he’s leaning against the sofa, an arm bent at the elbow near her leg. “You shouldn’t touch me so casually. I’m not used to it.”

His words heat up her cheeks and make her heart beat faster, like many times they happen in his presence. She lowers her hand to rub at the base and a soft sigh escapes Sylus’ lips. “I guess you’re well acquainted with a cat’s weak spot.” 

“Your reactions certainly do help,” Briar finds herself replying and discards the cat wand, her free hand now coming through the strands of silver hair. “It’s only me here Sylus, there’s no need to hold back.”

She doesn’t know where this confidence comes from, but she’s blaming it on the mood within the room. It always comes out with Sylus, as well as her shyness when he gets too close or says something too intimate. It’s strange, but Briar  finds herself liking it. 

Her words do something to him as more pleasant signs come from his lips, his body leaning more into her touch and his tail in a frantic movement. He moves his body closer to her, giving her more access to touch him. “..Yes. This side as well,”

Her heart beats so loud as she follows his command that she’s afraid he’ll hear it, but she just can’t resist. She can’t remember when Sylus has been so vulnerable and bare to her, with his walls usually up and just enough softness escaping just for her. To see him so open like this is an opportunity she doesn’t want to waste.

Just as she’s about to slide her thumb up the side of his ear, he suddenly grabs her wrists, halting her movements. She can't even ask why before she yelps, as he moves their bodies. Her back pressed against the back of the sofa and Sylus' body between her legs, rising on his knees. A hand softly rests up her bare thigh, while the arm that previously rested next to her cradles her chin, forcing her to look at him. A small stroke of pleasure goes down her spine at his touch, the gloves doing nothing to hold back the warmth from his hand.

“Having fun, kitten?” His eyes held a twinkle of mischief, though most of the time they always do. “What’s next? Scratch under my chin hoping I’ll purr. Rub my stomach if I roll over? Feed my treats if I’m good? The possibilities are endless.”

“Sylus-” Her hands move on the sofa for balance, but in doing so nudges something besides her that jingles, and they’re eyes follow the source of the sound.

It’s the collar, sitting perfectly and peacefully. 

“Or perhaps…” Sylus picks it up and holds it between them, a smirk on his lips. “You'd like to collar me.”

“Huh?” Briar looks at him confused. Does…does he want to wear it? Surely not. Wouldn’t such a thing be too embarrassing and degrading for the leader of Onychinus. “A-Are you saying you want to wear this?”

Sylus shrugs. “Why not? You seem to like having me as a cat, so why not go all out.” He pushes the collar in her hands, the damn smirk still on his lips. “Put it on me.”

Her breath hitches, lost for words at his command. Looking down at the collar she rubs the material once again, the tag jingling faintly. That dream of taming him comes to mind, the way he sat on his knees and bound before her, the collar on his neck she kept toying with.

Is this deja vu?

“Well?” 

Briar finally looks up at him, the glint of amusement in his eyes shining as if telling her that she wouldn’t dare follow through. “Ok.” 

She unclips the metal and leans forward, his body still towering over her. “You need to lean down more,”

Sylus merely gives an amused huff and follows her words, their foreheads now almost touching, his nose just barely brushing against her own. “Like this, sweetie?”

“...Yeah,” She swallows and leans forward again, avoiding his gaze and focusing on the job he’s given her. Her arms holding the open collar as she puts her arms around his neck, heat thumping as her fingers graze against the skin of his neck and she slides her fingers down the collar, coming to the openings. She puts an end through the strap and clips it into place - 

“Hmmm that’s too loose, kitten.” He breathes by her ear, a gasp almost escaping her lips. “It needs to be tighter if you don’t want it to come off.”

You’re the one who wanted it on. She wants to bite back, but shakily unclips it. She pulls the end through further. “Like this?”

“Tighter.” 

She’s sure her face is bright red, her heart beating wildly and her body warm. She pulls more on the end and clips it. 

“Good girl.”

She whimpers. His lips touching her ear and his hands wrapped around her waist, her legs almost hugging his own and her hands holding his shoulders. “Sylus…” He nips her ear causing her to gasp, his lips travelling down along her neck and to her shoulders, leaving kisses in their wake. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” He hums as he places another kiss on her shoulder. “I’m just being a good cat for his master. She’s taken such good care of me, so I want to reward her.” His lips glide across her skin, making goosebumps along the way. 

Perhaps it was a bad choice to wear a dress revealing her neck and shoulders, parts of her body Sylus liked to touch the most with those soft lips of his. She’s lost count how many times she’s looked in the mirror and covered the marks up with make-up, and the look on her coworkers face when she wore turtlenecks for a week wasn’t one she wanted to experience again, especially Tara’s smug look.

Briar pushes against his shoulders, despite them weighing more than her own body. “Sylus…don’t…” 

It takes a few more pushes, but eventually Sylus relents and moves away, his hands staying at her waist. “What’s wrong sweetie? By your little noises and blushing cheeks, you’re enjoying this.”

Briar breathes heavily, her body hot and an ache coming between her legs. The loss of his closeness gives her relief, but her body calls for him more. “I…I still have to complete my mission.” She can’t waste any more time if they wanted to be off this boat before the sun’s up, and no matter how badly she wants his lips on her skin again, the mission needs to come first. Something she’s sure Sylus understands.

His thumbs start to caress her sides, however she doesn’t think he’s doing that to comfort her. “I know sweetie, but it’s gonna be a while before dawn comes, and we’ve worked hard tonight. Let’s have some fun before we go, shall we?”

It’s one hell of a decision, and it doesn’t help when his thumbs start to get harder in their motions. She knows he’s desperate for her by the look in his eyes, and if it was any other man he would have pounced on her minutes ago. But this is Sylus, the man who would be wanting to ravish her for thousands of years, but would never make a move without her consent. Just one of the things she adores about him.

She swallows his surprised gasp as she kisses him, but it doesn’t take him long to return the affection, and when he licks her lip for entrance, she gladly gives it to him. Her hands holding tightly on his blazer as he devours her, a deep gasp leaving her lips when he finally releases her.

He grins. “Shall I take that as a yes?”

Briar giggles, one of her hands rubbing along one of his ears. “Do you really need to ask?” Her hands glide down to undo his tie and throw it away, not caring where it lands. “Since we have a while, I assume you don’t mind being the lovely butler you are and attend to me, do you?”

“Oh sweetie,” His eyes darkened and his voice lowered, a tone Briar found so utterly attractive “It would be my pleasure.”

In a flash he’s back on his knees before her, a sight she doesn’t think she’ll ever forget, and gently lifts up her right leg with one hand. Her breath hitches as he slowly peppers kisses down her calf, his other hand following behind. “My Lady’s feet must be sore after such a long day, allow me to tend to them.” 

He slides a high heel off gently, placing it on the floor against the sofa before rubbing his thumbs and fingers over her foot, pushing harder against some points and circling the flesh softly in others. 

Briar sinks into the comfort of his touch. She’s fairly used to messages thanks to Sylus treating her after time she’s faced a difficult Wanderer, or if her body was just sore from daily things. It’s always the same high end and sleek luxury one he books her in for, the staff knowing her by appearance alone. She enjoys it there as it gives her a chance to unwind and relax, and the staff were ever so gentle with her.

Despite that, she finds Sylus’ touch far more comforting, even if it ends up turning her on.

Her high heels now off and feet massaged, Sylus makes his way up, his hands sliding up her bare legs to where he meets her dress. His closeness makes Briar twitch in anticipation, which makes him chuckle. 

“Anxious, sweetie?” He smirks at her and pushes the dress up her legs till it reaches her waist. Briar blushes hard as she watches Sylus’ hand crawl up and gasps as they touch the edge of her underwear. She knows she’s wet, but when he looks down and grins, it almost makes her want to shield away from him from embarrassment. “And soaked as well, I see.” He tsk’s playfully. “I must clean My Lady before she gets more dirty.”

He pulls down her underwear painfully slow, and she bites back a whine. Of course Sylus is teasing her, he always has. But ever since he found out that she likes it she hasn’t gotten it straight since, except on their first time in bed. 

Briar gasps as he lifts her legs, placing her heels on the edge of the sofa and thighs far apart, exposing her greatly to his eyes. 

She blushes hard. 

Sylus however licks his lips, anticipation glowing in his beautiful eyes. A finger, still gloved, makes its way down her thighs and to her clit, and swipes down before entering her. “Your very wet, My Lady. However, did this happen?” 

“Sylus -” Briar whines, her hands clenching hard beside her on the sofa seats. “-please,”

He hums as retracts and licks the finger, his tongue twirling around that has Briar twitching. He just needs to lean down and do that to her, she can already imagine what it feels like. “Please what?”  

She pants. “Please…fuck me with your mouth.”

The gleam in his eyes darken. He wraps his arms around her legs and pulls her towards him as he leans forward, his breath just hitting her folds that has her squirming. “But of course, My Lady.”

She’s felt his mouth on her many times, but she will never get tired of the pleasure when he finally descends on her. She gasps loudly, legs immediately jerking at the wonderful sensation. His tongue goes all over her from her clit to her opening, and once he’s done it too many times, he goes for sucking different places that has her whimper and groan. 

“You taste so sweet, My Lady.” He whispers against her, teeth just grazing. “Will you allow me to indulge more?”

It takes Briar a few minutes to catch her breath to answer, panting hard and body heat through the roof. “...I will, as long as you make me cum,”

Sylus chuckles and kisses near her clit, his hands now gripping her thighs tighter. “That was never out of the question, My Lady.”

Now he’s devouring her, like a starved man that hasn’t had a drop of water for weeks. Her hands fly and latch into his hair, nails almost digging into his scalp, but only spurs him on more as he groans against her, silently telling her to do it more.

She feels the hot burning sensation in her stomach and moans. “S-Sylus…Sy - I’m close-”

“Come, My Lady.”

It’s like she’s under his spell and comes undone immediately. Her hips rise as her orgasm ripples through her and Sylus follows, rising to keep attached to her clit, desperate to not let go. 

Briar lays slack as he licks her clean, gently lowering her feet to the ground once he’s done. The image of him licking his mouth to gather the rest of her is intoxicating, and added to her mental album.

He leans over her and gives a soft kiss on her cheek. “Did My Lady find that enjoyable?”

“Immensely,” She replies, and angles her face to kiss his lips, getting a taste of herself as he opens his mouth. When she pulls away, she pushes his blazer off his shoulders and starts undoing his buttons. “However, your Lady needs more.”

“Does she now?” He chuckles and shrugs off his blazer, his eyes glancing down as she undoes his shirt before looking back at her. His hands go around her waist, his fingers toying with the zipper of her dress before pulling it down. “And what does My Lady need?” 

The dress falls from her shoulders, and like silk it slides off her body and onto the floor. Briar continues to unbutton Sylus’ shirt, which he takes off once she’s done, following his blazer to being thrown somewhere in the room. She watches hungrily as he takes off his gloves with his teeth.

God that’s hot. 

She lets her hands wander from his shoulders to his chest, pressing down harder as she glides her hands along the skin. When it makes the man above her gasp and his cheeks go red, she grins. Slowly, her hands glide down to his trousers and cup the large tent now formed. Sylus jerks at the touch, and when she squeezes just a little, a small groan escapes his lips. 

“She needs to be fucked on this sofa, now.”

Before she can give another squeeze, Sylus gently pats her away and goes towards his trousers. In a flash he’s bare before her and she has no shame in letting her eyes roam over him. His slender neck she likes to leave kisses on, the tone chest she likes to hold closer to her, his arms that always keep her safe and warm - 

And his large cock that always drives her crazy.

“Does My Lady approve?” He raises a brow playfully at her, knowing just how hot and bothered he makes her feel. 

Briar leans up, her hands trailing on his hip and just going near his cock, teasing him. She hums. “That remains to be seen.” 

Sylus chuckles and moves towards her, and leans her body down along the sofa as he manoeuvres above her, her legs caging him in as he settles between. A hand on her hip and the other caressing her cheek, Sylus kisses her sweetly on the lips before leaving small ones along her neck and shoulders, Briar panting all the way. 

“Then, let's see.” He whispers against her lips, giving her one last kiss before backing away.

He lifts her legs again and rubs his cock against her wet clit. Briar gasps at the sensation, impatiently waiting as he gets himself wet. It’s not long before he enters her, and she moans loudly as she gets filled up, his cock fitting perfectly inside her. 

Sylus groans, his hands gripping her hips as he starts to thrust in and out of her, clearly feeling the same effects as she is. Briar wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer to her, her legs wrapping around his waist and clenching her walls tighter around him. He lets out a moan, a sound so electrifying - Briar didn’t know a man could produce such a captivating noise.

 “Hmm, My Lady is enjoying this, yes?” Stll, no matter what he still bears that cocky smirk, but it just makes Briar shudder in excitement, as he can back up his words. 

She nods frantically, hands clenching on his shoulders. “Yes, yes - more Sylus…please!”

He growls, and her breath gets caught in her throat because  - well shit - that was arousing. He grips her thighs and leans forward, placing them so her knees cage her face and his body towering over her. “As you wish, My Lady.” He thrusts deeper, more frantic and Briar can’t help but take it all and moan, gasp and pant at it all. 

“God - Sylus - cumming,” She could barely speak - could barely get the words out before another orgasm crashes through her body, only more intense and breathtaking than the first. Her hold on her shoulders weaken, but Sylus doesn’t stop. He keeps going through her high, his thrusts now sloppy, desperate and wild. 

“My - Lady,” He moans deeply as he comes undone, hips still as he fills her, He’s panting hard above her, cheeks flushed and sweat on his forehead.  

It’s an alluring sight.

He kisses her passionately and Briar holds him close, clinging onto his warmth. Her arms pull him in closer as he rests on her body, his face nuzzling against her neck. They lay there, hands rubbing each other comfortably as they come down from their high.

Then something catches Brair’s eyes, and she giggles. “Your tail is waving around widely,”

He hums against her, the vibration soothing through her body. “Can you blame me, My Lady?”

She chuckles. “You can stop calling me that now, roleplay is now over.”  

“Maybe for now, but I am still your Cat Butler,” He leans his head up to look down at her, his eyes warm and smile soft. “I can’t stop addressing you while I’m still like this now, can I?”

“Ok, Ok.” Briar smiles as she rolls her eyes. “If that’s what you want,” She reaches a hand and softly rubs an ear. “I’ll be sad once they’re gone though, you’ve been a very cute kitty.”

He huffs a laugh. “Still calling me cute after that?” But leans into her touch, it’s a welcoming feeling to him now. “You still surprise me after all this time.” Most people would say that with a harsh tone, but Sylus voice is gentle and enduring.

It makes her heart warm.

“Well, it’d be boring if I didn’t.” She jokes. She likes to keep him on his toes, to see that surprise expression when it’s normally cocky. It gives her a sense of pride to break his smug features once in a while. “But we can’t stay like this for long, I still have a mission to complete.”

He laughs, his body shaking that vibrates against her own. Despite all the arousing expressions and noises he’s given her, this heartfelt laugh, with that beautiful smile, will always be her favourite. “See, My Lady? Always surprising.” He caresses her cheek again and she leans into his touch, nuzzling. He kisses her forehead and reaches his hand out, a fluffy blanket quickly landing in his grasp.  

He must have used his Evol. Briar thinks as he backs away and covers her bare body with it.

“I’ll complete the rest of the mission for you. Stay here and rest.” His command, while gentle, has a tone telling her not to fight back. It must be the exhaustion because she relents and pulls the blanket tighter around her. Despite it keeping her warm, she misses his heat.

He dresses quickly before walking back towards her, his hands threading though her soft hair before placing a kiss on her cheek. “I'll be back soon and we can go back to my place. Sounds good?”

Briar hums as she nods. “Ok. I miss seeing Luke and Kieran.” 

“And they you,”

Placing another kiss on her forehead and making sure she’s wrapped nicely in the blanket, Sylus quietly leaves the room. Briar snuggles into the sofa, ready to sleep off her exhaustion and looking forward to going back to the base.

“Hang on…he still has the collar on!”