bron

[revyourenjins]

BRON’S MASTERLIST

[25; she / her, MDNI]

recent fics:

gachiakuta

drabbles

Fight Night - pro boxer!enjin x reader

Here Kitty - lion hybrid!enjin x reader

Alone Time - lion hybrid!enjin x reader

Telepatía - zodyl x telepathic!reader

jujutsu kaisen

Bet Your Pretty Face - tattoo artist!choso x rockstar!reader

currently working on…

archaeologist!arkha corvus x reader (on hold)

roommate!enjin x reader (pending)

[revyourenjins]

TELEPATÍA

Content: cutesy, yearning, OOC Zodyl?

Pairing: zodyl x telepathic!reader

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: exams are done!! I’m free (to write a dissertation)!!! Celebrating with my first attempt at writing Zodyl ♡

＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚

The only possible reason for your current condition is the night you spent face-down in your psychology textbook. Your head is splitting, but not from the usual tension in your jaw. Instead there’s a low humming simmering just below your own thoughts.

Picking up your morning coffee, your senses are assailed. The barista is hungover, the businessman typing at his phone is thinking about how much he hates his boss, the girl sitting at the table by the window is fantasising about the guy she’d invited to her room two nights ago. You can hear every thought flitting through every person’s mind.

Maybe last week you would have thought it was cool, but now you thought it was torture. The constant barrage means that you stumble into your morning lecture five minutes late. You sneak past your lecturer’s irritated thoughts about students and timekeeping, past your usual seat - now taken - and right to the back of the room.

You pull out your laptop, trying desperately to block out the noise and focus on what the lecturer is saying. The strength of your will seems to be working. For a moment.

‘She’s not normally late.’

Everyone else’s thoughts were a static buzz. This thought was clear. It thrummed against your skull pleasantly, like a massage from inside your head.

‘God she’s so pretty. It’s hard enough to focus when she’s all the way over there, but she’s right here. She smells good. I haven’t written anything down in five minutes - oh no, she’s looking at me.’

You blink. You hadn’t clocked when you sat down who you’d placed yourself next to, but it should have been obvious. Zodyl Typhon was intimidation personified. The determined set to his jaw had enticed you earlier in the semester. You’d given up on being friendly pretty quickly - he was standoffish and offered little more than one word answers to your attempts at conversation. It wasn’t hard to take the hint and avoid bothering him with your company.

And right now he was thinking about your perfume.

‘Still not writing anything. And now she’s looking at me and she’s going to notice I’m not writing anything and she’s going to think I’m weird. Just keep looking straight ahead. Normal. Normal.’

Focusing in on Zodyl’s thoughts didn’t stop you from hearing the lecturer directing you all to split off into pairs to discuss your upcoming coursework.

‘Pick me pick me pick me pick me pick me—‘

‘Would you like to pair up?’ You ask, mustering the courage that had already taken a battering.

The feigned nonchalance as he glances at you would have been convincing if you couldn’t hear his inner monologue.

‘Alright.’

Now that the room was filled with a hundred chatting students, the voices on top of the thoughts filling your head was overwhelming. You try not to wince, peering at your computer screen in an effort to focus on something, anything, else.

Zodyl snaps his own computer shut. ‘It’s too loud in here. Would you like to work outside?’

You huff out a breath. ‘I’d love to.’

‘I love you. No, don’t say that.’

Trailing after him towards a picnic bench in the courtyard, you hold in a laugh and ignore the look that he gives you. The sun is warm on your skin and your head is mercifully quiet compared to the din in the lecture theatre.

‘I’ve never been close enough to notice that her hair turns that colour in the sun. It looks soft. She’s right there, I could find out. Who are you kidding, Typhon, you’d never be able to do that. She’d never let you.’

You dump your bag on the table, stretching your legs out across the bench as Zodyl takes the spot across from you.

‘Can I be honest with you, Zodyl?’ You ask, tilting your face up to the sunshine, drinking in the warmth.

‘She said my name. Is this a dream? This is usually how my dreams start.’

‘Sure.’

‘I have the worst headache ever today. Discussing the coursework sounds like torture. Can we just talk?’

‘I’ll do anything you want. I’ll write the coursework for you, I’ll bring you all the paracetamol in a three-mile radius and make sure you never hurt again.’

‘We can talk.’

＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚

You don’t go back to your regular seat after that lecture. Why would you when you have a whole new form of entertainment?

One week you wore your favourite skirt and couldn’t focus because Zodyl spent the whole hour sneaking peeks at your thighs and composing poems in their honour.

You ended up on the same table as him at the library to work on your project and your fingers brushed when you passed him a pencil. The way that he spiralled for the next ten minutes about how soft your skin was made it extremely difficult not to grin at your computer screen like a lunatic.

In short, you spend your newfound powers not for good, but to torment the poor guy. Your fixation on listening in to his most embarrassing thoughts did mean that you gained a handle on your ability. Your head didn’t pound like it did on the first day, and you were able to return to your normal life without having to spend hours in a darkened, empty room with a cold compress on your forehead.

That’s how you were able to survive an absolutely packed out house party on a Saturday night. Furniture pushed to the walls turned the living room into a makeshift dance floor where you danced with your friends, the music drowning out everything else.

‘Oh no.’

Everything except for him.

You were so attuned to the specific frequency of him that as soon as Zodyl was dragged through the door by his friends, his thoughts became clearer than the thumping bassline. Suddenly you’re hyper aware of the swerve of your hips as you dance, seeing your movements through the filter of his perception.

**‘I need another drink!’ You shout over the music to your friend before squeezing your way through the strangers surrounding you.

The kitchen counters are packed with liquor bottles and mixers, and open coolers glisten with melting ice and condensation-pearled beers. You mix yourself a drink, trying to ignore the way that the lights pick out the silver strands threading through Zodyl’s dark hair.

‘Be brave, boss man,’ The guy who you’d seen dragging Zodyl through the door slaps him on the shoulder heartily and slides out of the room.

‘Taking advice from Jabber is a new low.’

You take a sip of your drink to try to avoid snickering.

‘Hey, Zo.’ You smile.

‘Be brave be brave be brave.’

‘Hello. You look… nice.’

‘You look like heaven on earth. I’d let you do whatever you wanted to me. I’d pay you money to sample the flavour of your lipgloss.’

‘Cherry,’ You mutter under your breath, feeling a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth when he raises one eyebrow.

‘It’s kinda loud in here, don’t you think?’ You ask, leaning closer to him. Just close enough that your chest is brushing against his bicep, convincingly enough that he thinks you’re trying to make sure he hears you.

‘A little,’ He manages.

‘Close - too close - she has that perfume on again. Can she hear my heartbeat?’

‘D’you want to come outside with me?’ The slightest nod of his head is enough for you to reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, tugging him along to the door that you knew led out to the backyard. It’s not lost on you that he puts up no resistance, allowing you to direct him despite the advantage he had on you in height and strength.

The malfunctioning of his mind at the feeling of your hand in his own is too jumbled to work out individual words.

Fairy lights garland the fences that bracket the garden, a bench big enough for two nestled under an archway festooned with jasmine. The scent of the flowers is heavy on the night air, the cool air soothing your overheated skin.

You settle onto the bench, pulling Zodyl to sit beside you. The man doesn’t get a chance to breathe - you’re pressed against his side, the size of the seat not allowing space between you.

He clears his throat, gaze wandering across the yard. Anywhere but you.

‘I thought you didn’t like me for a while,’ You muse, breaking the silence. ‘You were so dismissive of me last semester, I was pretty sure I was annoying you.’

‘What?’

‘I like you. I like you so much. Too much.’

‘I’m not very expressive.’ His voice gives little away in comparison to the openness of his inner dialogue. ‘I don’t dislike you. Your company is pleasant.’

‘Say it!’

‘I see,’ You hum, looking up at the sky. ‘Only pleasant?’

You can hear the glitching of his mind. ‘Does she know?’

Torturing this man was too delicious to resist.

‘It seems to me like you think I’m more than pleasant,’ You tease, sliding your gaze back over to his face. God, he’s handsome. If you didn’t already know he was absolutely down bad for you, you’d be trembling with nerves from the proximity.

Wait - did you make the Zodyl Typhon blush?

It seems impossible, but it’s definitely there. A dusting of pink on his cheekbones, visible in the low light.

‘I don’t know what you mean by that.’ He’s stiff beside you, and you sit back. You don’t want to push the guy too hard. You had fun teasing him, sure, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

‘I only mean that I have fun talking to you. I thought we were friends now that I’m over you blowing me off at first.’ You scoot to the far side of the bench, trying to create some space between you. His reaction to you stung, despite your intimate knowledge with his feelings.

‘Don’t move away. You’re messing this up, Zodyl, come on.’

‘I don’t want to be friends,’ His voice is blunt.

‘Oh.’ Well that wasn’t how you thought this conversation would go. You were hoping for at least a kiss that you could both pretend never happened come Monday morning, and now you’ve got something a thousand times more embarrassing. ‘I can leave you alone, if you want. Stop sitting next to you in class.’

‘No,’ The timbre of his voice makes you shiver. ‘I mean - shit. I’m not good at this. I don’t want to be your friend, because I -’ *love you. ‘*Like you. A lot.’

‘She’s not saying anything… Fuck. I messed up.’

Your hand is soft when you grasp his jaw and turn his face to yours. Your lips are even softer when they meet his. It’s easier than he expected it would be to melt into your touch, and he doesn’t give himself the time to overthink his actions as his hand cups the side of your neck, drawing you closer.

‘Oh, shit!’ Jabber shouts from the doorway, piercing the peaceful quiet of the garden. ‘Get it, boss man!’

[tomm3-mima]

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

All I hear is that clip where speed is like “Awww, so cute, so cute” every time I see photos like this

[revyourenjins]

what if enjin's gf's personality is so not enjin's type

like she's so needy and cute and always laughing loud, but he still chooses her and loves her??

Semiu would notice first - the way that every time Enjin made a stupid joke, he would shoot a look your way to make sure you were laughing. She would mention something to Tomme, who spotted the way that he would make excuses to touch you. Resting his arm on the top of your head, pinching at your cheeks, teasing you about how cute you were. She’d make sure all the details were noted down to report back to Semiu, adding credence to their growing suspicions.

Eventually, everyone has noticed. Even Rudo has clocked the way that Enjin leaves the tiniest amount of room next to him on the sofa so that when you inevitably choose to sit next to him, you’re pressed up against each other.

So when Enjin is giving Rudo the world’s most baffling pep talk, telling a 14 year old about his preferences in women, you can’t blame the kid for being confused.

Enjin is stood right behind him when they get back to HQ. You’re in the lobby, legs swinging off the side of the desk as you sit and chat with Semiu.

‘I thought you and this shithead were dating,’ He says bluntly, pointing at Enjin. You blink, glancing between Enjin and Rudo.

That’s when Enjin notices.

He asks you out the next week.

A/N: honestly anon you are so right, Enjin w a cutie pie gf makes so much sense to me!!!

[sunnyistrash]

idk

[revyourenjins]

Hey hey, would you ever write jabber? I love love loveeee your enjin stuff and hybrid enjin got me thinking: what hybrid would jabber be? Maybe a black panther? Not sure tho

hello! Thank u sm ml 🥹 I’m so glad you enjoyed!! I’ve had lots of fun writing them so I’m happy they’re being received well🫂

If I were to write any Jabber fics they would be platonic - I wouldn’t be comfortable writing any characters under 20 romantically simply bc I see them as my lovely idiot children🤍

That being said!! I do think a big cat is a good shout for hybrid!Jabber. He definitely has the chaotic behaviour of a housecat on a way larger scale - I could see him as an ocelot or a black panther. I’m also thinking a snake, maybe a king cobra, because of his penchant for poisons. Being cold blooded would be an excellent excuse for him to wind himself up close to you, stealing your body heat and not letting you wriggle away from him because he claims the heat lamp you’d had installed wasn’t working, even though you’d checked it yourself earlier in the day.

[revyourenjins]

Doors never meant much to Enjin. You’d taken to getting changed in the bathroom, door locked, after he’d once walked in on you getting dressed and then changed so that the colour of his t-shirt matched your underwear. So when he lost something - today it was his favourite hoodie - no stone was left unturned, no door in the apartment left unopened.

‘Hey, boo, have you seen —’ His voice faded when he saw you, curled into a ball on top of your duvet. The familiar sounds of your current favourite show hummed from your laptop, notebook open under your cheek. The intrusion made you jump awake, dropping the pen that you’d somehow kept in your hold even while napping.

‘Jin,’ You say sleepily, squinting at him. ‘What’s up?’

The temptation of your bare legs was difficult to ignore, but he had the strength to drag his gaze up to the exact item he’d been ransacking his own room for all afternoon.

‘You’re wearing my hoodie,’ He notes. It was big on you, draping over your form. The skip in his chest was inconvenient - he’d sworn to himself, and to Gris, when you started living together that he wasn’t going to try anything on you. It was like you knew about his promise and tried to test his willpower at every chance you got.

‘Oh.’ You look down. ‘Yeah, I found it in the living room and I was cold.’

‘Can I have it back?’

Your face flushes. ‘Um - not right now.’

‘What do you mean not right now? It might look good on you, but I need it back.’ Enjin smirks, leaning against the doorframe.

‘I - uh - dont have anything under it?’

A/N: another snippet from a fic I might write someday (when exams have released me from their clutches). unedited so if it sucks!!! don’t tell me!!! xoxo, Bron

[revyourenjins]

gris [8:01]: how many hours have u been awake already

gris [9:32]: [1 image] follo says he misses u

gris [12:26]: have some lunch

gris [16:09]: [open.spotify] new study playlist for u

gris [17:00]: at least tell me ur alive, don’t work yourself too hard

gris [19:45]: ur mum just called me

gris [19:46]: i’m coming over

Pounding on your front door made you jump. You didn’t think you’d ordered any food, but the haze that swam through your mind - all because you’d spent the last couple of hours trying to fully understand the relevance of Costa v ENEL and the developments in Simmenthal no 2 - meant that you didn’t remember much of anything beyond the primacy of the European Union.

You shuffled to the door, fully aware of your glasses slipping further down your nose but lacking enough energy to do anything about it.

‘Gris?’

‘Where’ve you been?’ He grumbled, pushing past you into your dark apartment. He flicked on lights as he went. The golden glow of your lamps replaced the cold blue of your laptop screen. ‘Been trying to reach you all day.’

There was a plastic bag in his hand and the enticing smell of your regular order from your favourite takeaway. Hunger gnawed at the pit of your stomach, loud enough that Gris could hear it from where he was unpacking the containers onto your kitchen counter. He’d had to swipe aside haphazard piles of print outs that you’d been torturing yourself over all afternoon.

‘Studying,’ You supply meekly.

‘Uh huh. And when did you last eat?’

You look up at the clock that hung on the wall opposite your work station.

‘I had some olives out the jar around two. Does that count?’

Gris’s exasperation makes you squirm. He dumps food onto your plate and sticks it into your hands alongside a fork, making sure your document is saved before he’s snapping your laptop closed and dropping himself onto your sofa.

‘Siddown. We’re eating and then you’re doing something that isn’t thinking about the law for two seconds.’

Soon enough you’re curled into his side, fighting the heaviness of your eyelids to try and watch whatever movie he’d put on in the background.

‘I knew you’d do this,’ You hear him say through the sleepiness trying to claw you into slumber.

‘Good thing I’ve got you to look after me,’ You say, snuggling further into his side.

‘Yeah, yeah.’

Your breathing evens. That rhythm made familiar through years of sleepovers on your bedroom floor that meant you’d finally dropped off to sleep. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, carefully removing your glasses and placing them on the arm of the sofa. He’d let you sleep for a moment more before he moved you to your bed.

———————————————————————

A/N: can you tell im deep in the revision trenches? finals are approaching w terrifying speed so no long form fics for now 😖 i did indeed eat olives out the jar as a snack today but i also had lunch so no one worry <333 just needed a cutesy childhood best friends yearning Gris drabble to soothe the soul

[revyourenjins]

drabbles

enjin

hybrid!reader

blind!reader

nonchalant!reader x yearner!enjin

roommate au

cute!reader

gris

stressed student!reader

[revyourenjins]

Enjin always said that he didn’t like clingy girls, but this was going too far. Sure, he’d agreed when you said you needed a break. Not of his own volition, not really, but you had a lot on your mind and he didn’t want to pressure you into anything you didn’t want. He was certain you’d come back to him. You were his perfect woman, there was no world in which you didn’t come back to him.

He was starting to doubt himself now. He’s doubting himself because you’re in the corner of the room and he can’t focus on the party swirling around him because you’re giving that smile to some guy he didn’t even know. It’s the smile Enjin loves, the one that’s only supposed to be aimed at him.

You hadn’t even glanced at him all night. Shit, was he the clingy one?

That thought simmered in the back of his mind when he grabbed you by the wrist and leaned in closer than was necessary to ask if he could talk to you, pulling you from the faceless nobody you’d been talking to without even an apology. It lingered even as he pleaded with you in an abandoned corridor somewhere in the depths of the house you’d both found yourselves in. Even as he had your thighs trembling round his head as he traced his name out on your clit with his tongue.

Maybe he didn’t mind being clingy if it was you.

[revyourenjins]

I need more of Leo I love my little lion son🥹

i’m going to get rid of enjin and do only leo hcs from now on 🥹🥹 he was so fun to write im so glad u loved him too<333

[nyankochan]

Synopsis: he seems quite irritated by the club scene and keeps to himself despite the constant attention he receives from the other waitresses. Perhaps you can break his shell.

bro santa x hostess!reader

Content: afab!reader, single dad!Bro, mentions of grief and coping with familial deaths, soft sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, size kink (w/c:11.9k)

Your job as a hostess meant you have developed quite a repertoire with your clients.

Essentially, you’re paid to keep your clients company. Your job mostly entailed just talking with people, pouring drinks, and playing the occasional flirt. And most of your customers simply enjoyed having someone to converse with.

You played the part of a companion for a few hours, made good money, and someone was happy to have someone share their deepest secrets with. Even if most of the time you couldn’t care less, and you were quietly judging some of the scandalous things your clients told you.

But what every one of your clients had in common was simply the desire for intimacy. Or at least, an illusion of it.

However, after being in the business for a while, you realize nothing is truly 100% genuine. People’s intentions. Your interest in your client’s lives. Certainly not love.

Or at least, that’s what you convinced yourself before a particular client came along.

“Tonight’s gonna be a long night.” Beside you, your pink-haired coworker heaved out a sigh. “I should’ve called off, but if I take too many more days off, that asshole will think I’m trying to skip out on my payments again.”

“Who, Tamsy?” You ask, peeking back at your friend through the mirror as you finish up your makeup.

“Who else?” Mildretta groaned. She adjusts her tie before slamming her locker shut. “I can’t wait to be done with this stupid debt, and I can quit this embarrassing job.”

You give her a pitying smile.

You both worked at the Sphere as hostesses, aka glorified babysitters, according to Mildretta.

The Sphere was the most high-end club and bar in all of Tokyo, meaning it attracted some of the wealthiest and most successful businessmen from around the city. Unlike regular waitresses, your job was to keep clients company and offer the illusion of companionship for a few hours.

How you made most of your money was getting a client to rack up a bill in drinks or food, and through tips. With the tax bracket most of your customers were in, it was not uncommon for them to spend money like it was Monopoly money. Once, you had a client buy a 20,000¥ bottle of Champagne just because.

The job was also strictly non sexual. Well, there were no rules about taking any clients to bed off the clock, but while on the clock, your boss had a strict no fraternizing policy. It was more so in place to protect his workers from sleazy patrons who had one too much to drink or ulterior motives. Once, a gentleman touched you without permission, and he was kicked out of the club with his membership promptly revoked.

With that in place, you honestly couldn’t say that you completely hated your job. And you honestly didn’t harbor the same hate toward Tamsy as Mildretta did. He wasn’t a good man, but he was a good boss. And sure, while you were technically employed to pay off the debt you’d be saddled with after your so-called father racked up an obscene amount of gambling debt before skipping town, Tamsy had been rather lenient with the terms of your contract. After you paid off the debts, not including the interest, you were free to go.

It was either that or deal with the loan sharks.

“Why don’t we play a game to make the night go by faster?” You suggest. You finish your lipstick before closing your locker.

“What are we, five?” Mildretta scoffs.

“Oh, so you’re scared?” You clearly strike a nerve from the way she scowls. Given her competitive streak, you knew she’d never shy away from a challenge, no matter the conditions. “Tonight, we are supposed to be hosting a large party in the Sapphire Room. Whoever ends up with the biggest tip by the end of the night wins a favor from the loser.”

“Biggest tip huh?” Mildretta seems to ponder for a while. “From one customer?”

“Yup. Makes it more fun than counting all your tips from the entire night, don’t you think?”

Eventually, she cracks a smile. “Very well. You’re on.”

When you both leave the break room, the woman seems to have a noticeably more energetic pep to her step, making you shake your head and bite back a laugh. Truly, all it took was a little bet, and now Mildretta was all of a sudden excited to go to work.

For as much as she hated the job, Mildretta was actually really good at it. Every host and hostess had their own aesthetic or vibe. It was more like a role you all fulfilled, and clients could request a specific host/hostess based on what they were looking for in a companion, or more often than not, based on their own personal tastes.

For example, yours was that of the princess type. You played the role of the sweet, friendly hostess who attentively listened to everyone’s woes. Mildretta was popular with the clients who liked the mature and stern type, but you also believe that some men get off on her being mean to them.

As the elevator descended to the lower level of the club, the music grew deafening. The colorful lights were blinding, and the air heavy with the scent of booze as you and Mildretta tried to push through the dancing bodies to the VIP lounge marked with a silvery blue plaque.

The Sapphire Room lounge is luxurious, though small, with plush chairs and fancy faux-fur carpeting, encircling a small stage set up with a silver pole that stretches to the ceiling. The bar’s stationed to the far side of the wall, with a few bartenders still setting up. Mildretta immediately veers toward the bar, asking for a drink.

Before you could join her, your phone suddenly began to ring.

Upon seeing the name flash, you quickly answer.

“Hello? Guita, is everything alright?” You try to hide the twinge of panic in your tone, but you know she wouldn’t normally call unless something happened.

“Y/n,” she sniffles, and your heart drops. “Can you please tell the babysitter that you said I could have ice cream before dinner as long as I did my chores?”

If only you could reach through the phone and strangle her.

Guita was your little cousin whom you’ve had custody of since she was eight. Well, technically, your shitty dad had custody after her parents passed away in a car accident, but once he skipped town, you took her in despite only being 23, having no child-rearing experience whatsoever, and having a dead-end job as a waitress. Then, when you were saddled with your father’s debt, you had really no choice but to take Tamsy upon his offer to be able to support the two of you.

You tried not to let your little cousin know the full extent of the work you did or why her uncle had suddenly up and left. It wasn’t necessarily that you were embarrassed by your job per se, but Guita had a big mouth on her, and the last thing you wanted was for her to misinterpret your words and tell her classmates or teachers something completely wrong. You always got weird looks from some of the older moms, because they incorrectly assumed that you were Guita’s young, unmarried mother instead of her older cousin.

She also looked up to you greatly, and you tried to maintain a sense of normality in her life, but you couldn’t avoid the late hours you had to work. And though your cousin was now fourteen, you didn’t quite trust her to be by herself so late into the night. Usually, your neighbor’s daughter would watch her when your shifts stretched overnight, a teenager named Riyo.

Although Riyo was only a couple of years older, Guita enjoyed her company and considered her largely like an older sister instead of a babysitter. And of course, you always paid Riyo for the time she spent sitting with Guita.

“Guita, I’m at work,” you sigh. “I said don’t call unless it’s an emergency.”

“But it is an emergency,” Guita huffs. “It’s a matter of desserts on the line here. And Riyo isn’t budging.”

“Because the last time you got me in trouble for letting you have cake so late into the night!” You hear Riyo yell in the background.

“Guita…” you run a hand through your hair, annoyed. You look across and see the first wave of clients entering the lounge. “Fine. Whatever. Just be sure to brush your teeth before bed. Now I really have to go.”

“Yes!” Guita cheers. “Thank you! Bye, y/n! Love you! Riyo! You hear? She said yes—“ the line goes dead.

As much as you loved your little cousin, she sure had a knack for manipulating her way. Sometimes, it was easier to go along with it than to argue with her.

You couldn’t help but feel the smallest twinge of guilt staring at the wallpaper on your phone screen at a late time. The picture was of you and Guita during Halloween, and she had insisted on being a kaiju. So you had searched all over hell’s creation to be able to find a onesie for her that fit. It was worth it, though, given how happy she was.

All you did was for her sake, you reminded yourself. You were working to provide her the life she deserved and to keep that smile on her face.

Pocketing your phone, it takes you two strides to reach the bar as the first clients of the evening enter the lounge. Mildretta’s already taken her drink and sat down on one of the sofas next to a man with greying hair who seems all too happy to be crammed against the chair’s arm when she spreads her legs out. You put the sickeningly fake, yet sweet, smile on your face as you approach one of the gentlemen at the bar.

This was the part of the job you disliked.

The small talk.

It wouldn’t be so bad if people actually talked about things that were interesting. This particular gentleman droned on and on about nothing but work and a competitor he despised. The next man you talked to openly boasted about his affair with his receptionist, real scum if someone asked you. And the next client after that was no better, openly flirting with you despite your evident discomfort and attempts to laugh off his requests to take you on a date.

“She already told you no twice, now,” a voice cuts in. “If she has to say no a third time, then that could be your grounds for removal from this establishment for harassment.”

The cocky man sat up straighter with a scowl, thankfully removing his arm from around your shoulder. “We’re just having some fun here. Who do you think you-“ He looks to see who interrupted, before paling slightly.

Mildretta stands behind the couch, arms folded across her chest, with a thoroughly unamused expression written across her face. “Do I need to call security?”

The look on her face alone could’ve been enough, but no one really wanted to face the wrath of Tamsy’s security either. Especially given how on edge he’s been after a famous model was attacked by her stalker on Sphere territory, he’s been a lot less lenient to troublemakers. You’re also convinced that he only hires former yakuza as his bouncers, which makes most of them intimidating to begin with.

Nonetheless, the threat had the man sputtering out some excuse about needing to settle his tab before he scampers off like a dog with its tail tucked behind its legs.

"Thank you," you say while your colleague grumbles something about men being idiots under her breath. "You really didn't have to, though."

At that, Mildretta scoffs. "They all know the rules of this place. If they can't follow them, then they can get lost. That includes making any of the hostesses uncomfortable."

You merely shrug. "It comes with the job territory, unfortunately."

Now, it was your co-worker's turn to frown. "Just because it's the nature of our job doesn't mean that we need to be treated as less than.”

Someone calls for Mildretta, another clearly drunk client, so she gets pulled away before you respond, thankfully so. Part of you feels like she doesn’t understand. While you didn’t necessarily hate your job, it doesn’t mean that it would’ve been your first choice when looking for work. You were simply doing what you had to do to provide for your little cousin, and that meant putting up with even the less appealing parts of the job.

Mildretta played the role of the intimidating hostess, so it was expected of her to be combative and harsh. You didn’t have that luxury. It would break the fantasy you’re supposed to be portraying. And you couldn’t afford to potentially get in trouble, as it could cost you a job.

No, you just had to grin and bear it.

You look around the lounge. For the most part, most of the clients appear engaged in conversation with each other or one of the hosts/hostesses. It was to be expected, you supposed. After all, most businessmen truly came to the Sphere to conduct their deals. From what you’ve gathered by talking to previous customers, Tamsy has a strict no-violence policy, making the Sphere a neutral ground. It was effective at managing troublemakers for the most part because it ensured everyone remained on their best behavior, lest they want their membership revoked.

Sitting in the far corner of the lounge at a small table by the bar, you notice a man sitting by himself. He was dressed impeccably in a navy tailored suit. He appears older than the guy you were talking to earlier, with a dark beard and long hair to match. Most notably, however, was how bored he looked as he scrolled through his phone.

Squaring your shoulders, you place the fake smile back on your face, channeling the inner princess you’re supposed to embody. Then, you approach him.

“Hello!” You internally cringe from how high-pitched your voice comes out. A little too sweet. Too clearly fake. If the man noticed, he thankfully doesn’t comment on it, still engrossed in his phone. “You’re sitting here all by your lonesome. Would you care for some company?”

He looks up, his eyes widen in surprise as if he just realized that you were there. The man looks between you and his phone, then to the rest of the lounge, before almost comically pointing to himself with arguably the most adorably confused expression on his face. “I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

Without meaning to, you let out a little laugh. “I do believe it’s just the two of us, unless there’s an invisible ghost or something that I’m not aware of?”

Bashfully, the man runs a hand down the back of his neck. “Sorry. I—uh…” He sheepishly holds up his phone. “I have a sitter at home, and I’m trying not to be that paranoid parent who demands an update every thirty minutes, but…” he glances around the room before a seemingly annoyed expression settles across his face. “…this is kind of running longer than I initially was told.”

You couldn’t quite explain it, but despite his tall stature, something about him radiated a sense of gentleness. “I know the feeling.” You gesture to the empty seat across from him. “Mind if I sit?”

“By all means.” His phone lights up with a notification then. After reading it, he visibly relaxes. “Oh, good. The sitter doesn’t mind staying longer.”

“That’s always a relief,” you say, readjusting the stool. “You truly be feeling bad, but unfortunately, work calls sometimes. How old?”

“Just turned ten,” the man responds. He pockets his phone after sending what you assume is a quick text back to the sitter, then picks up his half-drunk glass of what might be scotch or whiskey. “You?”

“Fourteen. I know she’s probably old enough to stay by herself, but I don’t like her being alone when I have to work late.”

“Fourteen?” You’re used to the confused looks. Given that you were only twenty-nine, quick math and your young appearance often raised questions. But thankfully, he didn’t regard you with the usual judgment most people tend to have when you tell them that you’re Guita’s guardian.

“Technically, I have custody of my cousin,” you explain. A waitress comes by and sets a water on your table, but both of you decline to order anything else. “I’ve been her sole legal guardian for six years now. It’s tough, but we make do.”

“Ah, I see.” He takes a small sip of his drink. “Guess we’re in pretty similar boats then. My…uh…wife passed away due to complications during birth, so it’s been just my son and me since day one.”

You swallow thickly, lead settling in your chest. You were used to customers spilling their life stories, and usually, you’ve mastered the generic response to not seem too dismissive but not seem too interested.

For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to be unempathetic, and inexplicably, a sense of sadness washes over you. Perhaps it’s because you could sympathize with his situation. After all, you were quite literally in a similar boat, though you’d never been married. While you couldn’t imagine the pain he probably felt of losing a lover, being an unexpected single parent was something you could relate to.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You don’t have to be,” the man says kindly. “I still have a piece of her through my son.” A rather bashful smile spreads across his face. “Though, I guess you could see why I’m a worrywart when it comes to him.”

“I’ve been told I tend to be smothering, so I think I understand the sentiment.”

The two of you share a laugh, something that comes so naturally that it surprises you.

“Um, I’m y/n by the way,” you say, extending a hand out, which the man shakes.

“You can call me Bro.”

Bro hated after-work events.

His work as an attorney already led to him working long hours, as it is, but he tried his best to have a decent work-life balance. Especially when it came to raising his son and trying to ensure that he was an active father.

The entire firm knew that come five o’clock, Bro was on his way out the door. Not a second later. That way, he could get to the station, an eight-minute walk away, on time to catch the 5:15 train, make the hour commute from Shibuya to Tachikawa, and be back by 6:30 for a reasonable dinner.

Still, it was sometimes inevitable that these after-work networking events occurred. Most of the time, Bro could escape when his colleagues would go out to the izakaya. However, because the firm was in the middle of major negotiations with a potential share buyer on behalf of their top client, Corvus Capital, and Bro arguably had the most seniority, he unfortunately couldn’t weasel his way out of attending the scheduled meeting at the Sphere.

If he were to be completely honest, Bro hated clubs and bars. Perhaps it was just the fact that he was getting older, and noisy places started to annoy him. But he also hated the way people changed when surrounded by alcohol and undeniably attractive men and women.

For the most part, Bro had kept to himself. Rather early into the night, he and the potential shareholder had discussed the terms necessary and agreed to be in contact further over the coming weeks. And with that wrapped up, Bro wanted nothing more than to head home as soon as possible, relieve his sitter Eishia from her duties, and ideally spend some time with his son, Dear, before he would go to bed for school.

Alas, Bro had to stay for the duration of the party; it would look quite bad if the top attorney representing the Corvuses didn’t play proper host. He was told the party would last until nine-thirty. But as the hour stretched closer to eleven, he began growing antsy.

Even if he left now, it’d take more than an hour to drive all the way home. Bro felt bad doing so, but he sent a text to Eishia, asking if she wouldn’t mind staying a couple of hours longer with double pay for the overtime. If she couldn’t or simply didn’t want to, after all, she was a busy student herself, he wouldn’t blame her.

In that case…well, Bro would have to find an alternative asap.

Initially, he doesn’t notice your approach, too focused on his phone as the minutes tick by with no response from Eishia. Bro tried not to let his panic consume him. After all, Eishia was very responsible. Perhaps Dear and her were watching a movie or maybe baking cookies that required her full attention. That sounded better instead of immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario.

"You’re sitting here all by your lonesome. Would you care for some company?” A sweet-sounding voice said. Bro startled slightly. When he looks up from his phone, you're standing before him.

Momentarily, Bro is at a loss for words.

The one word he'd use to describe you would be beautiful. Like a princess stepping straight from a fairy tale, your makeup was soft and delicate. Similar to most of the staff, you wore a variation of the uniform that revealed your slender legs with a button-down shirt that hugged your figure in the best ways.

There was no doubt that you were one of the infamous hostesses. Bro didn't particularly have a problem with any of them. His colleagues often raved about how good company some of the hostesses at the Sphere made. But, if he were to be honest, he wasn't quite in the mood for needless small talk, nor did he really want to spill his life story to a stranger. Let alone someone who was merely paid to talk to him.

Realizing he was staring, Bro quickly looked away, turning his gaze to his phone before looking around the room, then back to you once he realized that everyone else was preoccupied with their own individual conversations. He pointed to himself shyly. “I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

You laugh. Bro's breath hitched ever so slightly, and he hoped the flush that burned his ears didn't show on his face. The sound...was cute.

“I do believe it’s just the two of us, unless there’s an invisible ghost or something that I’m not aware of?”

Bashfully, Bro ran a hand down the back of his neck. “Sorry. I—uh…” He holds up his phone. “I have a sitter at home, and I’m trying not to be that paranoid parent who demands an update every thirty minutes, but…” Bro glances around the room, trying not to make an annoyed face at the event that seemed to show no signs of ending. “…this is kind of running longer than I initially was told.”

“I know the feeling.” You say, surprising Bro. You then gesture to the empty seat across from him. “Mind if I sit?”

“By all means.” His phone lights up with a notification then.

Eishia: Hi, Bro! I don't mind staying! Would it be okay if I just spent the night, so my grandmother doesn't have to come get me?

Eishia: Also! Dear's already fallen asleep, haha. [Image sent]

Bro: Of course! Please make yourself comfortable in the guest room and help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen. I'm really sorry to keep you so late. I'll compensate you for the overnight

Eishia: Oh, no! It's fine, really!

After reading it, Bro visibly relaxes. “Oh, good. The sitter doesn’t mind staying longer.”

“That’s always a relief,” you say, readjusting the stool. “You truly be feeling bad, but unfortunately, work calls sometimes. How old?”

“Just turned ten,” Bro responds. After sending a text back to Eishia to insist that he would be paying her for the overtime, he picks up his half-drunk glass. “You?”

“Fourteen. I know she’s probably old enough to stay by herself, but I don’t like her being alone when I have to work late.”

“Fourteen?” Bro doesn't mean to sound judgmental. It's just...you look so young. Granted, he's not the best at guessing ages, and he knows everyone's circumstances are different, but if you were even thirty, he'd be surprised.

“Technically, I have custody of my cousin,” you explain. “I’ve been her sole legal guardian for six years now. It’s tough, but we make do.”

“Ah, I see.” Bro takes a small sip of his drink. “Guess we’re in pretty similar boats then. My…uh…wife passed away due to complications during birth, so it’s been just my son and me since day one.”

Talking about his late wife was...hard.

Bro's been in therapy for it for years, and grief never got any easier to deal with. Some days were better than others. Then there would be that one day that everything reminds him of his late wife, and it takes every ounce of his strength to hold it together.

For Dear's sake, he tried not to shy away from talking about his mother. After all, his son would never truly know her, but Bro didn't want to make it seem like it was forbidden for him to ask about her.

His therapist encouraged Bro to let Dear set the terms. Engage if he was interested, but don't push if he wasn't. Dear always seemed curious about his mother's pictures and recently took an interest in some of her old books and jewlery, but Bro knew that deep down, there was a disconnect.

Still, even though she was his mother, she was equally a stranger to Dear. That in itself was the hardest thing for Bro to come to terms with: that Dear would never really see his mother the way Bro did.

Bro never really tried to replace Dear's mother either. He'd dated casually, but until he became more established in his attorney career and had to rely mostly on sitters as he didn’t really help from family due to them being out of the country, Bro couldn't really commit to anything seriously. Plus, his focus had and would always be Dear. Something that some partners weren't always the most accepting of.

Not that it would change Bro's mind. His son would always be his first priority.

“I’m sorry for your loss," you say, voice soft. Something akin to sadness crosses your beautiful features, making Bro feel guilty. He truly wasn't looking for your pity.

“You don’t have to be,” he says. “I still have a piece of her through my son.” A smile spreads across his face. “Though, I guess you could see why I’m a worrywart when it comes to him.”

“I’ve been told I tend to be smothering, so I think I understand the sentiment.”

The two of you share a laugh, something that comes so naturally that it surprises him.

“Um, I’m y/n by the way,” you say, extending a hand out, which Bro shakes.

“You can call me Bro.”

The two of you fall into such an easy conversation that the time passes by with ease. The night that was once dragging on for both of you now speeding by in the blink of an eye. The topics of the conversation drifted from one to the next with no clear rhyme or reason.

One moment, Bro is sharing about Dear's stellar academic performance thus far in the fifth grade, like the proud dad he is. Next, you're sharing a funny story from Halloween where you and Guita dressed up as Kaiju, only to learn that the body paint you both used would not come off after the fact.

"My boss was not happy that I came to work with pink body paint still on my face," you manage to say in between your laughter. "I managed to convince him we could do a last-minute themed night in honor of Halloween. I think that idea spared me from being fired that night. People apparently really love a pink-themed vampire."

Bro's body shook with his own laughter, the deep rumble of it filling your stomach with warm butterflies. God, you think you could maybe become obsessed with the sound of it.

"I swear, sometimes we as parents go through the damndest things to make the kids happy," he chuckles. "Did I tell you that when Dear was in first grade, I got volunteered to play the tree in his school play?"

"The tree?" You wheeze. "Why?"

Bro shook his head. "I was unfortunately the tallest parent in the class. It also didn't help that Dear was insanely shy, so the only way to convince him to participate was if I got on stage with him."

"Tell me you have a picture?"

He pulls out his phone and spends a couple of seconds searching for the picture before showing it to you. Though the initial mental image made you laugh until your sides hurt, seeing the actual photo of him dressed in a silly oak tree costume, leaves strewn about his hair, next to a small child dressed as a butterfly, your heart can't help but swoon at the heartwarming image.

Bro's son favors him greatly, even though he's half Japanese. He has round eyes and curly hair that you wonder if he inherited from his father. You're assuming the child's light eye color comes from his mother. In the picture, his son slightly hides behind Bro, despite his evident attempts to get him to pose for the camera.

"Your son looks a lot like you," you say with a smile as you hand him back the phone.

"We get that a lot," Bro responds. "People say he looks more like me the older he gets, but I think he's got more of his mother's features." At the mention of his late wife, you note the fondness in his eyes. The way he regards the memory, it's evident not only that he loved her, but Bro truly misses her.

"I bet she would be happy to know how much effort you're going through to ensure your son has a good life, even if that means taking up the role of tree no. 2."

Bro chuckles. "I'm sure the same could be said of your aunt and uncle for taking in your cousin." Glancing at his watch, he then quickly downs the rest of his drink. "It's already midnight. It truly was nice talking to you, but if this event doesn't wrap up soon, I’m afraid I might sneak out."

You glance around the room. Some of the people have cleared out, but the Sapphire Room was still relatively crowded. You spot Mildretta on one of the lounge chairs, nursing a drink with a pink flush on her cheeks, clearly marking it as one of many. A few of your other coworkers had started going around cleaning up the empty glasses, while the bartenders worked on closing down tabs.

"I think I was told this ends at one, but I don't think anyone will say anything if you leave now," you say. "I honestly might see if they don't mind I leave early myself, so I can relieve my sitter of her duties."

"Would you like a ride home?" Bro suddenly finds himself asking. When he realizes the implications of what he said, he quickly adds, "That's if you need a way home. It's late after all, so the trains have stopped running, and a taxi would be expensive."

"Um..." you glance down at your phone. You were honestly going to call a ride, but it would definitely save you the extra money. "Sure. If you don't mind me grabbing my things from the break room real quick?"

"Not at all." Bro nods while reaching into his jacket's inner pocket. "I'll go close my tab while you're at it and meet you in the lobby when you’re ready.”

You try not to appear too eager to leave work early as you slip out the back with an approving nod from one of the bartenders. The text you sent Riyo about being on your way went unanswered, so you could only guess that she and Guita had fallen asleep by now. Riyo always insisted that she would stay up until you got home, claiming that she wanted to be alert in the event of an emergency, but you’ve told her countless times that if she were tired, she could go lie in your bed after Guita fell asleep.

After quickly changing out of your uniform, you briefly pause to look at your reflection in the mirror. You would’ve taken your make up off as well if you hadn’t forgotten your wipes, so despite your now casual appearance, the makeup still provided the fantasy facade of your being a host. The frown on your face deepened.

“Someday,” you reminded yourself. “I’ll leave this fantasy behind.”

Grabbing your belongings, you head to the lobby where Bro said he’d wait. You spot him instantly, faltering in your step. He was much taller than you initially realized. He’s not hard to find given how he practically towers over everyone, but that isn’t what gives you pause. Two women wearing seductive dresses are clearly flirting with him. One presses herself against his arm, though Bro stiffly tries to brush her off with a polite smile. The other curls a strand of her hair around her finger, saying something to him that you can’t quite make out from the distance.

You glance at your sweats. They were a goofy Kaiju-themed pair Guita had surprised you with, with the help of Riyo, for your birthday. While they were insanely comfortable and you loved the sentimentality of them, you were not about to approach the impeccably dressed man while two women were currently flaunting themselves in dresses that probably cost more than you made in a year.

“I’m sorry, but I really have to go,” Bro tries to shut the women down kindly. He begins looking around the crowded room, clearly searching for you.

“Awe, but the night is still so young,” the busty brunette, with clearly fake extensions, whines, and Bro tries not to roll his eyes. Even his own son didn’t whine like that. His gaze eventually settles on you, dressed down while holding the straps of your purse. You give a sheepish little wave, and his expression softens.

“Excuse me,” Bro says, this time shoving by with a little more force. “I must go. I have to get home to my son.”

“Wait, son?!”

“Ugh, he has a kid.”

Their quick personality shifts from fawning over him to disdain don’t bother him. Bro ignores their comments and grumbled complaints about how “all the good men had baby mamas.” He tried not to let the last remark irk him though anger coiled in his stomach at the blatant disrespect toward his wife. Not that they would know, nor did Bro truly owe them an explanation. Not like he was looking for company anyway.

Well, he did suppose he enjoyed your presence, and his irritation seemed to melt as he approached you.

“Hi,” you say meekly.

Bro smiles. “Hi. Are you ready to go?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I live all the way in Kodaira.”

“None at all. I live in Tachikawa, so it’s already on the way.” With a gentle hand on the small of your back, he guides you through the lobby toward the elevators that lead down to the parking garage.

It wouldn't be until the next day, when you go to collect your tips from the previous evening, that you find out that Bro had left you a tip of 20,000￥.

“Y/n, hurry up!” Guita urges, nearly pulling your arm out of its socket as she drags you out of the train. You laugh as you stumble to keep up with her.

“Guita, I promise we have time. The movie doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes.”

It was your first weekend off in a while. You had Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off, which never happened. So you decided to take full advantage of it and planned to spend the entire weekend with your little cousin. You were even nice enough to call her out of school Friday so that you could spend the full day doing things that she wanted.

After getting up early to have breakfast at your favorite pancake shop before going to get manicures and pedicures together, you headed to Tachikawa to go to the movies. Guita had been begging you to take her to see the new Detective Conan film, but you hadn’t had the time to do so until now.

You manage to calm her down enough to walk a decent pace the rest of the way to the theater, which was just outside a rather large shopping mall. Excitedly, Guita runs up to the little gift shop display, featuring a bunch of Detective Conan merchandise from stationery to themed cups, while you buy your tickets.

“Guita, come here and tell me what snacks you want,” you call. You fumble to put your change in your wallet, so when you turn toward the concession counter, you don’t see the person behind you. The other person quickly steadies you, but you drop some of your loose change in the process. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t—“

“No worries. You aren’t hurt are you?”

You both freeze.

You almost don’t recognize him at first from how casually he’s dressed. His long hair has been braided back, secured with a cloth bandana across his forehead. He’s dressed in oversized baggy clothes a stark contrast to the tailored suit you saw him in a week ago. After Bro had dropped you off at home that night, you hadn’t seen him since. It didn’t surprise you given how out of place he seemed at the Sphere to begin with, but a part of you had been a little disappointed that you hadn’t had the confidence to ask him for his number.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Bro says with a warm smile. He bends down to pick up the yen you dropped before handing it to you. “Fancy running into you.”

Heat warms your cheeks as his fingers brush yours. “You as well. Given that it’s noon on a random Friday, I figured a busy man as yourself would be at work.”

“Well, you’d be right.” He chuckles. “But I decided to take the day off. Dear wanted to see the new Conan movie, so I figured we could use a break.”

“Great minds must think alike,” you say. “Guita had been hounding me about seeing it too, and I actually had the weekend off for once.”

Speaking of the girl herself, your little cousin comes running up to you with an armful of Detective Conan-themed merchandise ."Y/n! Y/n! Can we please get these?"

You sigh. "Guita, no. We were going shopping after the movie, remember?

"Awe..." She pouts. "Can I at least get the matching keychain for my new friend?"

"New friend?"

At that moment, a young boy walks up to Bro and tugs on his shirt. He's got on overalls with sleeves so long that they swallow up his hands. His curly hair was pulled back into several ponytails, and it takes you a couple of seconds to draw the connection of where you knew him from.

"Dear, come on, put that back," Bro sighs when his son holds up to him the same Conan keychain Guita had. Dear huffs, a frown settles on his face before he looks over to Guita with a somewhat apologetic look.

"Pleaseee," Guita begs while tugging at your arm. "I won't ask for any candy with my popcorn."

You don't mention that her argument wasn't very convincing, given that the keychain was more expensive than a small box of candy. Instead, you ask, "Do you two know each other?"

Guita grins. She throws her arm around the smaller boy, who briefly looks startled by her touch, but he doesn't say anything. "We met over at the stand, and we instantly became besties since we have the same favorite character. Which is why, to commemorate, we have to get matching keychains. Isn't that right?" She turns to Dear, who gives an affirmative nod.

"You know, one day you'll make a pretty good lawyer with that argument," Bro chuckles. You shoot him a glare. He was supposed to be on your side in this matter.

Appearing rather pleased with herself, Guita's expression then morphed into one of confusion before she looked between you and Bro. "Is he your boyfriend?"

Immediately, your face burns hot with embarrassment. Beside you, Bro stiffens, the tips of his ears turning pink as he tugs at his collar with an awkward cough.

"N-no, he's uh--"

"I'm just a friend from work," Bro interrupts. "I also happen to be Dear's father. You can just call me Bro."

For some reason, the young girl's eyes seemed to sparkle at this. You don't know what was going on through her head, but whatever potential plot she was scheming, you didn't like it. "Are you going to see the movie with us? Y/n can they?"

"I mean..." You glance over to Bro, offering a sheepish look. "If you don't mind, we'd enjoy the company."

Dear gives Bro the same pleading look that Guita gives you, and ultimately, how could he deny either of them? "I don't see why not," Bro agrees. "And I'll get the two of you the keychains only if you put everything else back where you found it."

"YES! Come on, Dear!" The two of them eagerly run back off to the display. You shake your head.

"Thank you," you tell him. "You didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to." Bro's smile softened as he watched his son interact with the older girl. The two of them seemed to reevaluate what keychains they originally wanted. When Guita would hold up a new one to judge, he'd either nod or give a thumbs down with a shake of the head. "Dear doesn't ever make friends this easily, but he opened up to Guita right away. That alone makes it worth it."

You end up spending the rest of the day with the Santas.

You find it so cute how the two have become joined at the hip in such a short time. They insisted on sitting next to each other during the movie, leaving you sitting next to Bro as it was the only seat left. Bro had also bought the popcorn and drinks for everyone, even though you insisted you could pay.

After the movie, you roamed around the shopping mall. You had only really planned to buy new sneakers for Guita since she wore out her old pair during P.E., but somehow you got suckered into buying manga, more hair accessories than she’d truly use, and a Godzilla-themed t-shirt she just had to have from Uniqlo.

Currently, you are stuck at the gashapon machines.

“Ugh! I got a dupe!” Guita groaned after she opened the small capsule to reveal the same exact character she had just pulled. Beside her, Dear looked between the one he had and hers, before offering it. “Do you want to trade?” Dear nods. “No, if you want that one, you can keep it!” Shaking his head, he forcefully shoves it into her palm before taking her duplicate.

“I think Dear wants you two to match,” Bro chimed in, which his son confirms with an affirmative nod. The smile on Guita’s face grows.

“Then match we shall! Y/n, can I try another machine?”

“Sorry, Guita, I think I’m out of 100 yen coins,” you say.

“Aww.”

“Hm, I think I have a couple.” Bro fishes through his wallet and procured two coins for each kid. “Last one, though. After that, it’s time for lunch.”

Eagerly, the two run off, trying to determine which of the many machines they want to use. Bro then hands you a 100 yen coin. You regard him with a playful look.

“What, why not join them?” He shrugs. You shake your head as you laugh, taking the coin from him. You settle on a keychain machine. The capsule that pops out contains a small keychain shaped like a bag of chips.

“I haven’t played with one of these myself since I was a kid,” you admit. Bro puts another coin in the same machine and ends up with the same keychain as yours.

“It’s good to embrace your inner child every once in a while, no?”

Your heart flutters at the smile he gives you, and you quickly look away bashfully.

Bro was so genuinely good-natured. He had been nothing but kind to Guita from the moment he met her, but nothing about his actions seemed fake or forced. And even still, as he treats everyone to lunch and eventually ice cream at the kids’ insistence, you can’t will away the fuzzy feeling in your stomach, no matter how much you try to suppress it.

Later, you and Bro had to deal with both kids begging to have a sleepover.

"I'm okay with it if you are," Bro says. "I'm even willing to host at my place."

With a sigh, you finally relent, which leaves you and Guita back on the train to quickly run home and get her things. An hour later, you find yourself standing in front of a modest Japanese-style home that Bro texted you the address to.

"Now, Guita, make sure you're on your best behavior, and you mind your manners," you remind as the two of you walk up the pathway.

"You're not staying the night, too?" Guita asks. Your brow raises in confusion.

"Why would I stay the night?"

"Because that's what you do when you have a boyfriend, duh." She rolls her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing. Your face heats up.

"W-what? We're not--where did you even hear something like that?"

"Riyo," she says simply.

Before you could respond to that, Dear throws open the door. His eyes widen excitedly, and he runs up to meet Guita, hugging her around her waist.

"Dear, come on, you don't have any shoes on," Bro sighed exasperatedly. He came to the doorway, still dressed in his earlier clothes, though he had let his hair down. Upon seeing you, a smile softens across his face. “Hey, you.”

“Hi,” you say softly. Guita playfully elbows you, and you glare, shoving her back. “What do you say?”

Your cousin beams at the taller man. “Thank you for having me, Bro!”

“Of course. You two go on ahead inside.” Dear pulls Guita along, clearly excited to show her inside. When they were out of earshot, Bro closed the door slightly behind him.

“Thank you for being willing to host her, and um…sorry if this changed any plans you had…” You feel awkward now that it’s just the two of you.

“Truly, it’s not a problem. Dear was sitting by the window the entire time waiting. But, speaking of plans…” Now, Bro’s the one feeling awkward. You swear the faintest hint of pink creeps across his cheeks as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. “If you are free…would you, uh…like to get dinner with me?”

You blink in surprise.

“I-if you aren’t comfortable with Guita being alone, I could see if my usual sitter is available, but the house has a security system. And, I hope I’m not overstepping, but..um…” he’s stumbling over his words now, but you find it cute.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” You ask teasingly.

“Granted, I’m a little bit out of practice,” Bro says sheepishly. “But yes. I am. Will you please go out to dinner with me?”

Your chest constricts, stomach warming with those damn butterflies again. When was the last time you actually went on a date? It probably had to have been before you took Guita in. Most potential partners aren't always keen on dating a woman with a kid in her care, and your cousin had been your priority. So, going out on dates had been pushed to the back of your list of concerns.

“Bro.” You offer a smile when he tenses. “I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

Bro visibly relaxes, like he couldn’t believe you’d say yes. “Okay—I mean great! Shall we go soon?”

The kids couldn’t have been less interested when you told them that you were going out for dinner. They both were too engrossed in Mario Kart to care. Although you officially deemed Guita in charge, Bro still set the alarm system, instructing Dear to only turn it off when the pizza he’d ordered for them was delivered.

Since both of you were dressed casually, you opted for just a local izakaya. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but Bro insisted their karaage was to die for, and to be honest, you dealt with enough of the rich and luxury at work. The little hole-in-the-wall shop was a nice change of pace.

With Bro, conversation came so easily, and as cliché as it sounded, it felt like you two had known each other for years. You found yourself letting your guard down more, and you were able to be yourself for once instead of having to play a role or fulfill the fantasy of someone else.

You even find yourself opening up to him about the reason why you’re working at the Sphere, the debts your father left you with, and how Guita truly came into your custody. Through it all, not once does Bro judge you.

“You did what you had to do for your family,” Bro had said. “To me, that’s the most commendable sacrifice you could’ve ever made.”

It felt authentic. It felt nice.

By the end of the night, both of you had a little too much to drink. And you were a giggly mess as Bro walked you back to his place.

“I’m sorry to keep you out so late,” Bro said sheepishly. “Honestly, I didn’t want the night to end.”

You laugh. “It’s okay! I haven’t had this much fun in years.” At that moment, you nearly stumble off your feet. Bro quickly grabs your arm to steady you, pressing you close to his chest. Heat flares across your skin.

“Are you sure you can get home?” Bro swallows thickly. “Maybe you spend the night in the guest room.”

“Can I?” The tension between you two draws tight. A flush spreads across Bro’s face as his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, hesitating.

“At this point.” The tone of his voice goes heavy, hoarse with the desire he was desperately trying to suppress. “You could ask me for the moon, and I’d do my damndest to try to get it for you.”

You close the distance between the two of you, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. And Bro immediately melts at your touch. His hands hover briefly, unsure of where to put them at first, before his arms wrap around your waist. He pulls you closer, cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss. You groan at the taste of his mouth on yours, your knees slightly going weak.

“You know,” you’re breathless when you part. “For someone claiming to be out of practice, you don’t kiss like it.”

At that, he chuckles. "Come on. Let's go inside." The two of you quietly enter the house. The only noise comes from the living room television, which is playing the credits of some movie. Dear and Guita are sprawled out across the couch, both fast asleep.

Bro shows you down the hall to the guest room, pointing out the connected bathroom should you need it. You stop him before he leaves. "Stay."

"Y/n..."

"Please?" You look up at him sweetly, batting your eyelashes. Heat churns through him, rushing south as you step so close that your breasts press against his chest. Swearing under his breath, Bro cups your cheeks and captures your lips with his. You kiss him back with equal need, trying to savor the taste of him as his tongue teases its way through your mouth.

"I see now you're going to be a problem," Bro pants. "You ask me for anything like that, I'm going to break down and give it to you."

"Please stay with me tonight," you repeat, lips gracing his. Bro shudders out an exhale before he kisses you again.

Bro’s hands gently skim your waist, pulling your shirt over your head before guiding you to the bed. Butterflies fluttered in your belly as he pressed a kiss above your naval, the side of your neck, then your jaw.

You cup his cheek and pull him down so that his lips meet yours. You hear him sigh into the kiss. He touches you gently as if he were afraid you’d break. Like if he weren’t careful, you’d disappear right in front of him. You fisted his hair, starting to pull it from its usual braid so that you could feel the strands between your fingers.

Groaning against your mouth, Bro tried to savor the taste of your lips. The smell of your perfume tickles his nose. You fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, and once they’re undone, Bro shrugs the garment off his broad shoulders before taking you into his arms. You're becoming increasingly aware that one of your favorite parts of him was his body. You run your hands over his chest and abdomen, that’s gotten slightly pudgy with age, making him all the more cuddly.

Pulling you closer, he deepened the kiss. His hand traced down your shoulders and over your waist, mapping the shape of you and noting how perfectly you fit against him. When you shivered, the faintest grin graced his lips.

"Such a pretty thing," Bro murmurs. "I almost can't believe that you're real."

"Stop teasing me." You gasp when he pinches your sensitive nipple between his fingers. "Bro~" He covers your mouth when your whimpers get too loud.

"Sorry, mi amor," His voice comes out breathy when he speaks. "But you're gonna have to keep quiet so we don't wake the kids. Can you try to do that for me?" You muster a small nod, making him smile. "Good girl."

Your heart lurches at the endearing nickname, and it continues to pound in your ears as Bro carefully undresses you. He's barely touched you, but your skin feels like it's on fire. It leaves you squirmy as the feeling of him lingers, because he never quite touches you where you want him to, leaving you frustrated and wanting more.

"Bro, please," you whimper softly. Heat pools between your legs, your cunt aching with need. And when his hands dip beneath the waistband of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him completely, Bro groans at how wet you're already for him.

“Just look at how wet you are, and I’ve barely touched you.” Bro wedges one finger into your cunt. His finger slides through with little resistance. Then a second is added, scissoring you slowly so that you feel the stretch of his fingers against your gummy walls. You whimper at the penetration. Your hips involuntarily buck against his hand.

“A-ah—“ you try to cover your mouth, both to keep quiet and to try to hide the embarrassing, needy whimpers that leave your lips. But you can’t help it. Not when he draws lazy circles around your clit there have your toes curling. “B-Bro—“

“That’s it,” Bro coos. He presses a kiss to your cheek before your lips to swallow up your moans. He continues to work you up with his fingers, fucking them into you slowly.

His fingers press against your innermost walls, making more sinful cries leave your lips, which sound heavenly to Bro’s ears. The squelching sound of your wetness each time he moves his fingers sent heat shooting through his body straight to his cock, his stiff arousal beginning to press uncomfortably against his slacks. Bro feels you clench around his fingers, your walls quivering.

“Cum for me, mi amor.” And when you do, you cry so prettily that it nearly has Bro cumming in his own pants. He brings his fingers to his mouth to taste you on them. He groans as your sweetness coats his tongue. Fuck, he could grow addicted to you. “Are you doing okay?” Bro asks, gently caressing your cheek.

Your vision is slightly hazy, with dots flickering in your vision from the post-euphoric bliss. “Fuck. Bro, please. I need more.”

A brief hesitation flickers across his darkened eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Bro,” you say softly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to steal another kiss. “Yes. Give me all of you.”

The sound of the zipper coming undone has your heart thrumming eagerly. Bro’s almost shy in the way he discards his pants, then his boxers, like he was allowing you to change your mind. He was already a bigger guy to begin with, so you reasonably…assumed…he’d pack a pretty decent-sized package. But you didn’t expect him to be this big.

You gape at the sight of his cock, swallowing nervously--eagerly--as Bro's aching length hits his lower abdomen. How you wanted to drag your tongue and taste the smear of milky pre leaking from the thick red tip. He’s so thick, balls hanging heavy, and you stop yourself from asking if he’s even gonna fit with how self-conscious he looks.

You motion him forward. The bed dipped as he settled into it. “You know, I find it hard to believe you’ve been single this long when you’re packing such a pretty package.”

Bro flushes. “Is that a compliment?”

“Very much so,” you chuckle. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to kiss. At this point, you were addicted to the way his lips tasted. “Go on. I can take it.”

You both shudder out a moan as the first inch of him tries to breach past your puffy folds. Bro tries to go slow, giving you time to adjust to his size, but you’re impatient as you hook your legs around his lower back to bring him closer. “M-more,” you gasp.

“S-shit—“ Bro’s eyes scrunched shut, his breathing ragged. You felt heavenly, gummy walls clamping around him so deliciously that he was sure he’d come instantly. Already, he could feel his cock throb. Desperate to feel more. His hips rut forward, prompting you to squeal. “S-shit! Are you—“

“Don’t stop,” you demand. Already, you could feel the coil of desire tightening in your stomach. As Bro pressed further and further, it threatened to come undone. “Ah, w-wait—“

“I need you to relax for me, mi amor,” Bro grunts.

“B-but—“

The moment Bro sheathes his cock all the way, hitting where you’re most sensitive, your toes curl, and you’re gushing around him while crying out his name. It catches Bro off guard, not expecting you to cum so suddenly, let alone by him just pushing his cock in. But, fuck, if he didn’t truly enjoy the sight. And as he holds you steady as your orgasm trembles your body, he silently wishes he could play that erotic moment back again.

“F-fuck,” you whimper, covering your burning face as embarrassment overshadows your desire. How could you cum that fast already?! What were you, a teenager? “I-I’m sorry. I-I just—“

Bro gently takes your hand away from your face. He regards you fondly, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “Do you want to stop?”

“Huh?”

“We can stop if you want.” He says it so assuredly that it makes your chest swoon. Even now, this man continues to prioritize you first.

“No! It’s…just embarrassing to finish so quickly…” you mumble shyly. Bro chuckles and kisses your temple.

“I’m not complaining. If anything, it makes me feel better knowing that I have such an effect on you. We can take it slow and go at our own pace as we figure out what we like. This is new for both of us.”

His lips meet yours again, and you sigh into him. As his hips begin to move, dragging his length through your still too sensitive walls, your fingers dig into his hair. Every snap of his hips feels intentional, not too rough that it has you uncomfortable, but just sharp enough that it has you gasping for more.

You hold him tighter, your sweaty bodies melding together. Bro fucks into you deep and slowly, trying not to make too much noise. Your mouth works against his; you both desperately try to taste one another as your tongues fight for dominance. The stretch of his cock reaches the innermost part of your cunt to where you’re most sensitive, making you gasp.

“B-Bro,” you whimper. Your cunt quivers around him, desperate for release. Bro ruts against you faster and harder, bullying his length over and over against that sweet spot until you’re cumming around him. He groans into your shoulder, your spasming cunt trying to milk him for all he had. He presses into you deep as he cums.

You’re dazed, but you immediately notice the loss of warmth from him when he withdraws. “Wait—“

“Don't worry. I’ll be right back.” Bro seals the promise with a kiss before heading to the bathroom. He returns soon with a washcloth. You don’t say anything as he wipes you down, cleaning the sweat and sex off of you.

The gentle aftercare…it feels nice.

“Do you want to shower?” Bro asks you.

“I don’t think I could walk if I wanted to,” you laugh. “Can you lie with me?”

Bro doesn’t hesitate this time. He climbs into the bed with you, pulling the comforter over your shoulder to ensure you’re warm. But you gravitate towards him, lying your head on his chest to hear the steady drum of his heartbeat.

You fall asleep like this, comforted by his presence. And you can only hope that when you wake, this fantasy doesn’t end.

You wake to sunlight filtering through the window, the smell of bacon grease, and the sound of laughter. Groggily, your surroundings come into view, and it takes you a few seconds to process where you're at and that it is not your room.

Sitting up quickly, you're stopped by the slight ache in your hips. At the sight of your naked frame, your face warms as you remember last night.

You and Bro slept together.

You couldn't explain why the notion of it was so embarrassing to you. The sex was good, and Bro treated you better than anyone you had ever been with. Granted, you don't make it a habit of hooking up after the first date. That seemed like something you were too old for at this point, but you weren't going to lie and say that you didn't thoroughly enjoy it.

But now you're left in the uncomfortable limbo of wondering where that leaves the two of you? Well, Bro had asked you out to dinner, so that meant he was likely interested in you romantically, right?

Groaning, you collapse back into the pillows. The faint smell of Bro’s cologne lingers, filling you with a sense of comfort. What if, after last night, he no longer felt the same? He was a father first, and Dear was his main priority, as Guita was yours. Not to mention, what if he wasn’t over his late wife? You could never replace her, nor would you even dare to, but you didn’t want to be complete for his affection if ultimately it still belonged to another.

The bedroom door creaks open. Startled, you pull the blankets up to cover yourself, but it’s only Bro who enters. He’s carrying a tray, precariously balancing a cup of coffee and a plate of something that makes your stomach growl. When he sees that you’re awake, he smiles.

“Oh, good. Saves me from having to be the bad guy by waking you up,” Bro says. “Would you like some breakfast? The kids have already eaten.”

“Yes…um, thank you…” You pause, realizing you were still completely nude. “Actually, do you know where my clothes are?”

“Oh.” Bro clears his throat, ears turning pink. “Sorry. I threw them in the wash. Let me go grab you something.” He briefly leaves the room, coming back with a t-shirt that’s clearly one of his, for it basically swallows you up when you put it on. “I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat. Guita insisted on pancakes.”

“Handsome and can cook too?” You cut your fork into the fluffy pancake, groaning as its buttery taste floods your taste buds.

“It was mostly just trial and error,” Bro dismisses. He sits on the edge of the bed across from you. “Dear is a bit finicky with certain textures, so I’ve had to learn to accommodate.”

“He sure is very lucky to have a father like you who cares so much about him.”

“I’m honestly just trying my best, but I’m not perfect, and arguably, I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to this relationship stuff either.”

Your grip on your fork tightens. “Bro…”

“Listen, about last night—“ He hesitates. Bro runs a hand through his hair, heaving out a sigh to steel his nerves. Damn, he was really out of practice with this. He was so nervous that he could hardly get the words out.

You hold your breath, waiting for the inevitable rejections. Where he tells you that last night was a mistake. That there would be nothing further between either of you, and it would be best if you go your separate ways. For some reason, the thought makes your stomach churn, and against your will, tears begin to trickle down your cheeks.

“I..um…would like to give this a try if you’re interested, and—hey!” Bro’s heart drops at the sight of your tears. He quickly cups your cheeks. “W-what’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

“No.” You sniffle. “It’s just, being around you has my heart stuttering like crazy. It makes me forget all reason, but at the same time, I don’t hate it. I-I just don’t want it to end.”

Bro’s expression softens. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. This makes it much easier then.” He wipes your stray tears, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I know we did things kind of out of order, but I really do like you and want to see where this goes. I know we’re both clearly out of practice.”

At that, you choke out a laugh. “A little?”

“Okay, maybe a lot,” Bro chuckles. “But I think we should be allowed to be happy. The kids already like each other, which is the first major hurdle. What’s stopping us?”

Deep down, you know what he says is true. For once, you should allow yourself to be a little selfish and chase after the things you want. You've always put Guita first, and as you mentally work through the millions of ways this relationship couldn't work out, you frown as self-doubt begins to rear its ugly head. “My job…”

Ideally, you wanted to be cleared of your debts and free from the Sphere before pursing anything serious. Sure, you were strictly professional, but it didn’t sit right with you to be essentially paid to flirt and spend time with other men while in a committed relationship. Maybe that was just you being in your head, because Bro regards you with an odd look.

“What about it?” He asks. “Do you want to quit?”

“It doesn’t work like that.” You shake your head. “I can’t just quit. Not until my debts are paid off.”

“Then I’ll pay them off.”

“Bro, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” you exhale a sigh. “I can’t ask you to pay off the remaining five million yen left of my father’s debts so early into a new relationship. It wouldn’t sit right with me.” It would make you feel guilty to take his money, like you’ve cleared one debt to be passed on to the next. Plus, you didn’t want him to shoulder that burden.

“Very well, I don’t want to overstep,” Bro relents. “But if we’re going through with this relationship, please know that I will always support you and try to take care of you, and by proxy, Guita.” He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “All I ask is that you extend the same love to Dear. I’m not asking you to replace his mother, but it’s important to me that you get along.”

“I know you’re a package deal.” You lean into him, and he wraps his arms around you. “Just a warning, though, Guita has the world’s best puppy dog eyes. Don’t let her fool you.”

“I’m an attorney. I deal with cunning businessmen on the daily. You think I would really cave to the whims of a fourteen-year-old?”

You smirk. “You did yesterday at the Gashapon machines.”

Bro laughs. “Fair.”

There’s hushed laughter outside the door, and you can hear loud shushes trying to silence the other. You and Bro share a knowing look.

“You two can come in,” Bro calls. The door opens, and in stumbles a giggly Guita with Dear not too far behind. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“No~” Guita says in a singsong tone as she throws herself onto the bed. “Anyway, so are you guys like boyfriend and girlfriend now? And does that mean I get to hang out with Dear all the time now?”

“Guita,” you sigh at her bluntness.

“Would you be okay with me dating your cousin?” Bro asks. Your eyes widen slightly. He...was really asking for her blessing to date you? How much more romantic could this man be?”

“Yup! As long as you make her happy, it’s okay with me!” Guita gives a thumbs up.

You give Dear a soft, albeit shy, smile. He stares up at you, large blue eyes blinking slowly. “Dear, do I have your blessing to date your dad?” The boy glances between you and Bro to Guita. He then looks at his hands before mimicking her thumbs up.

“Then, it’s settled,” Bro confirms. “Now, why don’t we get ready for the day, hm? I know a new arcade that just opened.”

“Yes! Let’s go!” Guita runs off before anyone can stop her. Dear goes to follow, but pauses at the door.

“Something wrong, Dear?”

Dear turns around, running back up to you. He suddenly hugs you tightly around your waist. It catches both you and Bro by surprise. You don’t say anything—don’t even know what to say. Then, your lips soften into a smile, and you run a gentle hand through curly hair. You let Dear pull away first, letting him hold you as long as he needed before he chases after Guita.

“Come on,” Bro ushers, giving you a cheeky smile. “They’ll only hound us if we’re not ready when they are.”

If this were just a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. A life with Bro, a sense of family with Guita and Dear, the idea that this could become your normal made you happier than you realized.

And you were going to embrace every moment of this new love that you had found.

Return to The Sphere Lobby → Enter Here

𝓶𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓼: @sugarapplepiee, @nefellibatta, @slutyuz, @awkward-walking-potato, @peanut-lovers-world, @dee-deez, @forgottensniper

[revyourenjins]

the dilf to end all dilfs

[revyourenjins]

the things that i would do to enjin would have me burned at the stake in the 1600s

[vandal-flower]

What if Arkha Corvus had a s/o who is privately funding the Cleaners. Like one day they both get into an argument and they casually (as a joke) threaten to cut the monthly allowance in half.

Corvus remembering who ACTUALLY has the power and is BOSS.

[revyourenjins]

enjin x blind reader ????? who doesn't know that she's hot af

enjin getting increasingly frustrated when you don’t stop brushing off his flirty comments and compliments - but not giving up, not even close the rest of Akuta groan every time he saunters over to you straight after a mission with a new line he’d thought of on the way back to HQ

he’d insist on sitting on the floor in front of you on a slow day, guiding your fingertips to his face so you can trace over its contours, because if you won’t acknowledge how pretty you are you should at least get a sense of how pretty he is. freezing in place when the pad of your thumb ghosts over his lips, and then jumping away from you when someone slams through the door.

that’s fine — he’ll try again tomorrow

[revyourenjins]

have you ever thought about doing pregnant Asthma sufferer!reader married to enjin?

i'd love to read one!

At the moment I don’t think I’ll write any full fics about pregnancy, I’m sorry!! I do think this is such a good idea though - he’d definitely be the type to take your spare inhaler everywhere with him, and if your breath so much as hitches he’s right there pretending it just happened to be in his pocket.

[revyourenjins]

ALONE TIME

Content: lion hybrid!enjin, silly parent antics, your baby bites everything, possessiveness/jealousy, oral (f receiving), fìngerìng, p in v, mentions of pregnancy, dacryphilia if you squint.

Pairing: hybrid!dad!enjin x mum!reader

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: I had lots of fun making the baby a cutie pie and also an absolute terror. The love on pt 1 was so amazing so I hope this fulfils the hybrid!enjin sized hole in ur life. Xoxo, Bron.

find part 1 here!

From the moment you sit down at your desk in the morning, you’re counting down the minutes between tasks until your lunch hour rolls around. At least, the digital clock in the corner of your laptop screen ticks over to display 13:00, and you’re out of your seat in an instant, slamming your laptop closed.

‘Right, I’m off - see you at two!’ You chirp. Your paralegal glances up from her own work, smiling fondly as you. Long gone were the days where she’d have to remind you to take even ten minutes away from your desk.

‘Have a good lunch!’ She calls after you as you hurry towards the lift.

Polished glass doors of your office building open into a courtyard, bathed in the early afternoon sunlight. Carefully curated flowerbeds line the edges and the foliage is ruffled by the breeze, sending the scent of lavender into the air. Your eyes dart around searchingly, until a bright giggle catches your attention.

A passing bumblebee had made your son laugh in that contagious way that babies have. Each of his pudgy hands were held safely in Enjin’s as he totters around on unsteady feet, his tail brushing the floor behind him. The clack of your heels echoes around the quiet of the courtyard as you approach, distracting him from the bumblebee and making him squeal with excitement. He seems to be getting bigger everyday, but thankfully he’s still little enough for you to scoop him into your arms and smother his cute cheeks with kisses.

‘Mama!’

‘Hi baby,’ You coo, nuzzling your nose into his untameable blonde curls and breathing in his warm baby smell. The fluff of his ears tickles at your skin. ‘Have you been good for Papa today?’

Enjin wraps an arm around your waist and you crane up for a kiss. ‘As good as he ever is. He did bite me this morning, though. Hurt like a bitch.’

Leo laughs like he understands what Enjin’s saying, his pink gummy smile and adorable little front teeth disguising the force in his tiny jaws. You chastise him teasingly - making sure your fingers don’t get too close to his mouth - as the three of you head to the nearby park that you’d designated the perfect lunch spot.

‘Wanna help me with these, bud?’ The bag slung over Enjin’s shoulder carried a veritable feast, along with a picnic blanket that he shakes out onto the grass. You kick off your heels, stretching out on the blanket and watching Enjin pass containers of food to Leo to place haphazardly between you.

When Leo had been born you’d spent at least a week complaining to Enjin about the months of work you’d put in. You’d coped through morning sickness, swollen feet, craving raw, bloodied meat - just for the baby to pop out looking identical to his father.

Enjin had tried in vain to convince you that Leo had your eyes, but as he grew he only looked more and more similar. You’d had to accept that you’d produced a tiny clone of your boyfriend. The same dimples that you loved so much on Enjin had even been replicated in miniature when Leo gave you those big smiles after throwing food on the floor.

‘You look good, ma,’ Enjin‘s purr snaps you out of your thoughts. His eyes have that look to them - the one that reminds you of the feeling of his teeth against your throat, the press of his fingers on your skin. You can feel yourself flush. Returning to the office didn’t require a wardrobe change, you still wore the same clothes as before your pregnancy, but motherhood had changed your body in ways that made Enjin ravenous.

‘Think so?’ You tease, smoothing your skirt over your hip and watching how he tracks your every movement like he’s going to pounce on you in the middle of the park.

‘Papa,’ Leo huffs, pulling at Enjin’s sleeve with the determination only afforded to toddlers. ‘Hungy.’

‘Yeah, yeah, wait your turn.’ Once the babyproof lid is popped open and handed over, Leo settled happily on the grass to gum at his food. You sigh, picking up your fork and a Tupperware of your own to dig into.

You love your baby. You really, really do. But he does not give you a moment of peace. It’s yet another way that he’s like his father - and you were growing more desperate by the day for him to let the two of you have more than a stolen kiss before he’s crying for your attention.

Forced abstinence was even more difficult to tolerate when Enjin looked so delicious as a dad. There was a photo that you had framed on your desk that made you salivate a little whenever you looked at it. He’d been cooking at the time, his hair loose and mussed across his forehead, sleeves pushed up to reveal the muscles of his arms, and Leo balanced on his hip. It was more than enough of an encouragement to bolt to your car as soon as the workday was done.

Between bites, you launched into your most recent round of complaints of a client that refused to answer all of your questions in a single email, meaning half your morning had been spent sending message after message to get the most basic information from him. Enjin updated you on the latest in his saga of interactions with the girl who worked at the cafe where his ‘dads and babies’ group met up, who apparently wouldn’t take the fact that he had a girlfriend and a child as a hard no.

In no time at all your lunch break is over, and you’re slipping your heels back on to return to your desk.

The confusing conversations of adults had sent Leo to sleep, curled up on the blanket between you like a kitten. You stroke his hair, taking in the peaceful expression on his face for a lingering moment.

‘I don’t want to leave,’ You pout, looking up at Enjin. His fingers tangle with yours and squeeze gently.

‘You’ll be home before you know it.’

Even as he said it, you both knew it was a lie. The afternoon dragged as if you were moving through molasses. As soon as you stagger through the door to the apartment, though, all of the hours seem to drop away. Leo toddles to greet you, hair still damp from his bath and stuffed lion gripped tight in his arms, babbling at you as you crouch down to hug him tightly.

‘Oh, really? And then what happened?’

‘Ba-ba-a, ada.’ You nod along as if you have any idea what he’s trying to convey to you.

‘How you doin’, boo?’ Enjin asks as Leo leads you through to the kitchen. It’s like all of the daydreams that’d been distracting you all day had come to life - his sweatpants sat low on his narrow hips, hair freshly washed and combed back, chest bare and allowing you full access to appreciate the tattoos that crept across his skin.

‘I’m exhausted,’ You huff, resting your chin on his shoulder to peek at whatever was bubbling on the stove.

‘Dinner’s nearly done, kiddo’s all ready for bed. I’ve got some wine chilling in the fridge and we swung by that bakery you like on the way home.’

‘Is this heaven?’

‘There’s also a new series of that show we watched last year - Temptation Island?

You practically moan. Garbage reality TV, your favourite sweet treat, a glass of wine, and a six-three piece of eye candy. Bliss.

‘You’re perfect. Let me get Leo into bed ‘n I’ll come right back.’

The rocking chair in the corner of the nursery creaks lightly as you sit. Leo nestles into you, thumb in his mouth and eyes already fighting sleep. Pushing with your foot to sway the chair lightly, you crack open the storybook you’d chosen randomly from the tiny bookshelf in the corner. Rhyming couplets about monsters being tucked into bed trip off your tongue as Leo’s free hand fists into your shirt.

You’d been missing for half an hour when Enjin comes to find you. Usually it takes twenty minutes tops to get Leo settled in his cot, but it wasn’t beyond him to fuss and cling to you as you try to leave. The door pushes open silently, the room softly lit by a nightlight, and he tries whispering your name. No response. He pushes the door open a little further. You’re in the rocking chair, Leo in your lap, both of you fast asleep. There’s a book on the floor that he assumes slipped from your grasp as you slept.

It’s impossible not to laugh, and pauses to take a photo before disentangling the baby from your arms. Leo stirs slightly and Enjin holds his breath before his son drifts back to sleep and he can be safely deposited into his cot without fully waking.

‘Angel?’

‘Mm?’

‘C’mere pretty girl.’ Enjin slides his hands under you and lifts you easily from the chair. He’d hoped that your legs would be wrapped round his hips in slightly different circumstances tonight, but you were exhausted. ‘Lemme take care of you.’

Removing your clothes is easy when you’re all sleepy and pliant, letting him move you under the showerhead. Warm water cascades over you, soothing the ache in your back that always returned by the end of each work day regardless of how many yoga sessions and posture-correcting exercises you tried.

‘You’re so good to me,’ You mumble, smiling blearily at Enjin over your shoulder. ‘What’d I ever do to deserve you?’

He lathers soap over his palms, working it into your skin and massaging over the bunched knots of muscle in your shoulders.

‘You’ve done plenty,’ He replies easily. ‘I think technically it’s down to you making bad decisions when you drink.’

A handful of water catches him square in the face, making him splutter.

‘Are you ever going to let that go?’

‘Not a chance.’ He laughs. ‘But it’s also ‘cause of you that I’ve got a life I didn’t let myself even imagine. Love, safety, family. That’s all you.’

‘Jinnie, you know you can’t be nice to me when I’m tired. I’ll cry.’

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and your giggles bounce off the bathroom tile.

You manage to stay conscious for one episode of Temptation Island while you eat, tucked against Enjin’s side and basking in the warmth radiating from his skin.

‘These men are all awful,’ You complain, crinkling your nose in disgust.

‘If I ever suggest coming on this show, you need to leave me immediately.’

Before the end of the episode you’re yawning again, and Enjin is ushering you off the sofa and into the bedroom. God bless your past self for shelling out for the most comfortable mattress and the highest count sheets money could buy. Your bed was heavenly. As soon as your head hits the pillow you’re out for the count.

˚₊ ‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵⠀‧˚₊ ˚ . ₊ ‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵⠀‧˚₊

Long conversations during your pregnancy meant that you’d decided the baby wouldn’t be looking at screens until they were at least a couple of years old. Enjin refused to have an iPad kid and you’d heartily agreed, neither of you fully anticipating what that meant.

Visions of peacefully sleeping newborns had convinced you then - but now you had to deal with Leo’s impossibly short attention span. You’d had to get creative. The toys that were his favourites last month had lost their appeal, the sealed bag of frozen peas and water only worked to keep him busy for ten minutes, and you’d already let him help you load the washing machine twice today.

Now he was sitting in his high chair, rejecting snacks and getting fussier by the minute.

‘Jin,’ You call through to Enjin, dozing on the sofa. ‘Save me. Entertain your son.’

‘You’re doing great, angel.’ He stretches lazily. ‘Daddy needs a nap.’

You grumble, poking at Leo’s round belly. ‘Why don’t you need a nap, huh?’

There was one thing that you hadn’t tried. The one thing that always used to calm him down on those long days when he wouldn’t stop kicking at you during your pregnancy.

‘Leo, do you want to dance with Mama?’ You grin, flicking the switch on the deviously expensive sound system you’d had installed when you moved into the apartment. Gathering him into your arms, you hit play. Megan Thee Stallion deserved a medal for the hours she’d put into keeping your son calm.

You bobbed around the kitchen, singing along and bouncing a giggling Leo with the pulsing bass.

‘Still works,’ You tell him, spinning and making him shriek with glee. ‘You’re a much better dancer than your Papa.’

Even after all this time, the silence with which Enjin can sneak on you comes as a surprise. You jump when he speaks, mouth right by your ears.

‘Take that back, I’m a great dancer.’

Now that you’re standing still you’ve lost Leo’s interest and he wriggles in your hold to be released to the floor. He staggers off to wreak havoc to some poor piece of furniture, letting Enjin have you all to himself. His hands are warm on your skin as he guides the sway of your hips, pressing himself against your back.

‘I thought you were having a nap,’ You say, melting into his touch. He spins you so you’re face to face.

‘Not when I’ve got a show going on in here,’ He replies. The sultry beat of the music is magnetic, your lips ghosting closer together until you can feel the curve of his smile against your mouth.

‘No!’ A wail pops the bubble that you’d surrounded yourself in, pulling back from Enjin reluctantly. ‘No, no, no!’ Leo stands at your feet, one hand on Enjin’s calf to keep him upright and the other wiping clumsily at the fat tears spilling down his reddened cheeks.

‘What’s up, sweetheart?’ You croon, scooping him up and rocking gently side-to-side. Leo peeks between you and Enjin, snuggling his wet face into your shoulder with a shuddering sigh.

Moment over, Enjin leans down to give you a chaste peck. Leo looks up at the sound and the crying starts again as he bats at his father’s face with ineffective slaps.

‘You’re kidding. Is he jealous?’

You place a kiss on the top of Leo’s head right between his fluffy ears, which are pinned back against his head. At your touch they perk up, making you huff out a laugh. The crying ceases and his sweet smile is back.

‘Listen kid,’ Enjin leans down so his face is level with Leo’s, his own ears flicking in that oh-so-obvious way that you adore. It’s impossible for him to hide his frustration, and you can’t help but smile in amusement. ‘The only reason you’re here is because Mama and Papa danced together. That means she’s mine first, so you gotta let me touch her.’

Leo only blinks up at him with wide golden eyes, giving no sign of understanding his father’s desperation. One little hand grasps at the collar of your shirt and he turns back to you, pressing his face to your cheek with an exaggerated mwah!

‘Thank you, baby.’ You try to stifle a laugh as Enjin drags a hand down his face in exasperation, resigning himself to an hour of watching from a distance as his own cub steals you from him.

It lasts longer than an hour - for the rest of the night, Leo screams if Enjin so much as bumps his hip to yours when you stand next to one another in the kitchen. You spend the evening with six feet of space between you, holding Leo and reminding Enjin he can’t glare at his son.

˚₊ ‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵⠀‧˚₊ ˚ . ₊ ‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵⠀‧˚₊

It always made Enjin agitated when he couldn’t work out why Leo was fussy. And he has been fussy for days. Which means that you’re dealing with both an upset baby and an upset hybrid, unable to find and solve the source of his son’s discomfort.

‘Am I a bad dad?’ He’d muttered from your arms after Leo had finally fallen asleep last night.

You’d taken his face between your hands, forcing him to look at you. ‘You’re the best dad.’ You insist. ‘He loves you, it’s not your fault that he’s in a mood. He’s a baby. This happens.’

You found the source of the problem the morning after. You had Leo on your lap, bouncing him and letting him mouth harmlessly at your fingers, when a sharp pinprick of pain shot through your hand and made you hiss.

The noise surprised Leo, who looked up at you with big, tear-filled eyes and began to shriek. You gather him up in one arm, shushing him softly while inspecting your finger. A bead of blood had already welled up from a tiny divot, and you sucked it away before it could drip onto your white furniture.

‘Sorry, honey,’ You murmur, rocking the calming baby.

‘Everything okay?’ Enjin asked from the doorway, half dressed.

‘C’mere and take a look at this with me.’ Leo let you shift him so he was perched on your knee. ‘Leo, can you say ahhh.’He opens his mouth obediently, tears still clinging to his long lashes, and you push up his lip to take a look at his gums.

As you suspected - a needle-sharp, teeny-tiny canine tooth was pushing its way through his gum. You hand him to Enjin and fetch a teething ring from the fridge for him to gnaw on, hoping that it would be strong enough to withstand his sharp leonine teeth. It was supposed to be hybrid-proof, but did a puppy hybrid really have the same bite strength as a lion cub?

The relief that had swaddled you at finding the root of the problem meant that you didn’t realise you’d stepped into your own horror movie. Jaws was about to play out in your own home.

Sugar stuck to your palms as you rolled another ball of cookie dough into a near-perfect sphere. The recipe that you’d jotted down from TikTok was smudged with brown sugar, but you could still just about read the words. Enjin was on his favourite stool, sneaking tastes of the cookie dough left in the bowl, and Leo was playing in your peripheral vision, teething ring in one hand and chilled cucumber stick in the other.

You slotted the tray into the oven, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead with your forearm.

‘Leo?’

The spot on the carpet where he had been was empty. It wasn’t like he could make it far - there weren’t many hiding places, but he was nowhere to be seen. You checked round the side of the sofa while Enjin peered under the kitchen island to make sure there wasn’t a baby under his chair. Nothing.

Double-checking the nursery doesn’t yield any results and you’re about to open the wardrobe in your bedroom, just in case, when a shout of pain splits the air. When you rush back into the kitchen, you’re greeted by Enjin perched on top of his stool like he’d seen a mouse, Leo sitting on the floor staring up at him while giggling like a maniac.

‘He bit my tail,’ Enjin says accusingly, the expression on his face making it seem as though it had come off entirely. ‘It’s like he doesn’t even care that I take care of him everyday.’

‘Leo, that’s not nice,’ You scold. ‘Say sorry to Papa. We don’t bite people.’

Even with your stern tone and held eye-to-eye with Enjin’s pouting face, Leo shows no remorse.

‘He’s a little psychopath.’

‘Jin, you can’t call our baby a psychopath.’

‘I’m bleeding out.’

The second time incident occurs while you’re working from home. Enjin is stretched out and dozing on the floor, claiming to be playing with the baby, while you tap away at your computer. Emails have been piling up for the last week and you’re desperately sorting through them all. You flag a reply from one of the upscale daycares you’d reached out to, and then absorb yourself in crafting a response to a client worried about an ex-employee badmouthing their company online.

‘Guh— what the hell, kid?!’

Leo is sitting proudly on Enjin’s stomach as he gasps, winded and defeated by a toddler.

‘Did he…?’

‘You wanna fight?’ Enjin growls playfully, scooping Leo up and tossing him onto the sofa. Leo is pinning on his back with Enjin tickling his sides relentlessly, eliciting a chorus of breathless giggles and excited screams. Leo tries - and fails - to wiggle away from the onslaught, reaching his hands towards you.

‘You brought this on yourself, kid.’ Enjin’s voice is barely audible over the shrieking. ‘Mama can’t save you now.’

The final straw breaks you later that evening. Leo was tucked into bed, his lion toy in hand and seemingly fast asleep as you creep out the room and back to the sofa. Basking in Enjin’s warmth, you draped yourself across his chest. Temptation Island was quickly forgotten upon your return - his hands were tangled in your hair, mouth on yours. Sharp teeth nipped at your bottom lip, making you whine.

Waiting so long for his touch made you putty in his hands. It felt like you could finish from his mouth on yours, his knee pressing up between your legs and letting you grind down.

Something wet touches your bare calf and you yelp, making Enjin pull you closer.

‘What’s wrong? You okay?’

The sleepy face of your son smiles up at you from the floor, dribble on his chin matching the patch of spit on your leg.

‘Heyo,’ He says sweetly.

‘Hey, baby.’ You sigh, trying to tack a cheerful expression to your face to hide the fact that your heart is still ricocheting in your chest. ‘What’re you doing up?’

‘Ouchie,’ He grumbles, feeling at his mouth with one finger.

‘M’kay,’ You say, ignoring Enjin’s mumbled complaints at the loss of you as you get up to grab a teething ring from the fridge. Leo follows close behind you, sticking the plastic into his mouth as soon as you hand it over. You lead him gently back to bed, lifting him back into his crib and closing the door firmly, his golden eyes fixed on you as the latch clicks.

‘Can I call him a psychopath now?’ Enjin asks as you flop back onto the sofa. ‘I miss when he slept through the night.’

You don’t even reply, too busy inputting your credit card information into some baby supplies site for a high-walled play pen and a child-safe, one way bedroom door lock.

˚₊ ‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵⠀‧˚₊ ˚ . ₊ ‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵⠀‧˚₊

The incessant ding! of Enjin’s phone drags you out of sleep. You try nudging him awake, which does nothing but make him pull you close and bury his face between your shoulders blades, muttering in a way which vaguely resembles words.

Stretching your arm at a near-impossible angle lets you grab his phone - at the expense of your elbow - and you blink at it as your eyes adjust. All of the notifications came from the hot dads 🔥 group chat, the name making you snort in amusement. You skim over the latest messages, check the time, and then nudge Enjin again.

‘Jin, your friends are getting here in twenty minutes.’

‘Fuck,’ He mutters, stealing one more moment with you before rolling out of bed. ‘Forgot about that.’

By the time you’ve fully woken up and gotten ready, the apartment is full of people. Your appearance makes Leo light up, his squeal of ‘mama!’ drawing the attention of your guests. After kneeling to give him a hug, and to say hello to the other babies who’d appeared in your home, you straighten to greet the collection of men crammed around your kitchen island.

‘You must be the hot dads,’ You say with a bright smile, earning a laugh.

‘And you must be Leo’s mum,’ One of the men replies. ‘Y’know Enjin never shuts up about you?’

‘Oh, she knows.’ Enjin slides an iced coffee across the counter to you, and you sip at it gratefully. ‘Angel, this is Bro, Arkha, and Gris.’

It was rare for your lion hybrid to look short, so you were taken aback by how tall his friends were. You’d never considered your apartment small, but now that four men over six feet tall and five children were vying for space you were starting to think you’d need an upgrade.

‘Did you all get scared away from the mums and babies group too?’ You perch on the arm of the sofa, glass sweating against your palm.

Bro shudders at the reminder. ‘They were like piranhas.’

‘Everyone was very welcoming,’ Arkha says diplomatically. ‘But they kept trying to set me up. It was impossible to convince them that I can raise two girls by myself - I get messages sometimes asking if they still need a mum.’ His eyes drift to his two girls, Riyo and Amo, where they sit chattering to one another on the floor.

Gris pats Arkha on the shoulder comfortingly. ‘You’re doing a great job.’

You’d been vibrating with fury when Enjin had recounted his day to you after going to that meetup, even when he’d vowed never to return. Single dads were like catnip to them, he’d told you, clutching Leo to him as if one of them was about to break into the apartment and steal him away. You were seething as he told you about how they’d crowded around him, stroking his arms and commenting on how nice it was for a father to be so involved.

‘Someone touched Leo’s ears,’ Enjin says with a shiver.

‘I know, baby.’

‘No boundaries, especially when it comes to hybrids,’ Gris says knowingly, shaking his head. ‘They tried to do the same to Rudo.’ The little boy sat near Leo had the same lupine ears as his uncle, the fur a strikingly bright white. ‘

You refill your coffee, nestling into the corner of the sofa to read as you keep an eye on the kids. The noise of the guys chatting, blended with the chatter of the babies, provided a peaceful ambience to your novel. You’d picked it up at the library the last time you’d been to the library, slightly put off originally by the bright orange of the cover, but within fifteen pages you were completely absorbed.

A little hand pats at your knee and you look down into Dear’s big blue eyes.

‘You wanna come up with me?’ He nods firmly and you let him climb up into your lap, where he cozies up as if he belongs there. The expectant way that he stares at your book makes you pause. ‘Oh, you want a story?’ He nods again, eyes fixed on the tiny lines of text. There’s nothing overtly explicit, so you shrug and begin to read quietly to him, the noise melting beneath the other sounds of the apartment into a comforting hum.

It takes no time at all for Dear to drift to sleep, curled into your elbow. Your thumb rubs at the softness of his arm absently, continuing to read silently as he naps. The sofa creaks when Bro takes the spot next to you, peering over your shoulder into his son’s sleeping face.

‘Nice work,’ He whispers, giving you an appreciative thumbs up. ‘He’s been sleeping terribly lately. Want me to take him?’

‘He’s fine,’ You reassure him. ‘Let me know when you’re heading out and I’ll hand him over - I’m happy to let him sleep for a while.’

You trade stories of the sleepless nights and early mornings of parenthood while Dear snoozes. At some point Leo notices that his mama’s affection was being granted to another, and he whines for a moment at your feet until you bring him up to share your lap. Enjin’s heated gaze feels like an electric current over your skin, and you glance over to where he’s stood with his friends.

Bro notices the look and chuckles. ‘Enjin was telling us recently about your - ahem - problems, with Leo.’ You flush with embarrassment. ‘Happens to us all, especially at this age. They seem to have a second sense for when you don’t want them around.’

Leo’s hands are like tiny vices around your fingers. ‘Tell me about it. When do they get over this phase?’ You whisper desperately.

‘You’ve still got a couple of months.’ Despite his apologetic tone, you can still hear the undercurrent of amusement that laces his words. ‘But…’

‘But?’

‘These two get on like a house on fire,’ He says, nodding at the two boys. ‘If you ever wanted me to take Leo for a night, give you guys some alone time…?’

It was only the presence of Dear and Leo that stopped you from falling at Bro’s feet and praising him like some kind of deity. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yeah, it’d be no problem.’

You don’t give him a chance to change his mind - you’re putting your number into his contacts with a promise to pay him back someday, ignoring Enjin’s quirked brow from across the kitchen.

˚₊ ‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵⠀‧˚₊ ˚ . ₊ ‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵⠀‧˚₊

Leo was surprisingly accepting while being dropped off with Bro and Dear. In fact, you think you were more worried than he was as you linger on the front step, showering Bro with effusive appreciation as you hand over your baby. Bro shrugs the bag of supplies over his shoulder after you triple check that you’ve packed everything.

‘Don’t stress. I’ll text you if we need anything, you enjoy your night.’ Leo’s already grabbing at Bro’s hand, chomping at his knuckles and not batting an eye as you slip away from the door with a wave.

You have enough time to get ready, perfecting your makeup and slipping into a dress that you’d bought specifically for your first proper date since Leo was born. Twisting in the mirror, you take a moment to admire yourself from all angles. Even to your exacting standards you looked immaculate.

Enjin is stood by the window when you enter the living room, staring out across the blinking city lights. You gladly take the opportunity to appreciate the sharp line of his jaw, the tailored cut of his button down shirt. His jaw drops when he turns to you, drinking you in with his gaze.

‘Goddamn, ma,’ The rasp in his voice shoots straight through you. His hands skim your waist hungrily, tail batting at the bare skin of your leg. ‘You sure I can’t keep you here?’

‘D’you know how hard I had to work to get these reservations at such short notice?’ You tease, rolling your eyes. ‘Would you do up my necklace for me?’

The delicate chain looks even daintier in his hands, and you turn before you can get too distracted. You sweep your hair up and off your neck, shivering as his fingers ghost over your skin as he fastens the clasp. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

‘Don’t try it,’ You warn, but even you can hear that your heart isn’t in it. You desperately want him to do it again, so before he can you’re pulling him out the door and to your waiting Uber.

The restaurant you’d chosen is fancy - the kind of place where no one is in jeans and everyone has a career that requires an explanation. The lights are so dim you’re basically sat in the dark and the music hums unobtrusively in the background. There are a couple of other hybrids at other tables, putting Enjin at ease.

For the first time in nearly a year you’re in a public space without the baby, and you make the most of it. There’s a bottle of wine on your table almost immediately, and the courses of ridiculously expensive tiny plates fly by as the two of you drink in every moment of one another’s presence.

Of course, that included at least twenty minutes of glancing over at all the other patrons and making up fake stories for what they’re doing tonight.

‘Look at him - that scar? He’s definitely a hit-man. And the lady across from him looks too tense, she’s definitely hiring him to kill her husband or something.’ Enjin nods over to a table on your left.

‘What about those two?’ You say, indicating a table on the other side of the room. ‘Could be father and daughter, but her dress is way too lowcut for that. And she’s like college age, if she’s not a sugar baby then I’d be shocked.’

The silky music of the restaurant washes over you, the buzz of the bottle of wine sending warmth down into your fingertips. Your eyes flutter closed and you hum contentedly. Once Enjin returns from the bathroom you can get home, and then you have him all to yourself. You check your phone absently, in case Bro had texted. There’s a photo of Leo and Dear from a couple of hours ago, both in their pajamas and smiling broadly.

‘I can’t believe a beautiful woman like you is sat alone.’ It takes you a moment to realise those words were directed at you, and you glance up at the man looming over you.

‘Oh, I’m not alone.’ Your smile is tight and forced. ‘My boyfriend will be back any moment.’

‘I’m sure he won’t mind if I keep you company while you wait.’ The chair that Enjin had been sitting in squeaks gratingly against the floor, earning some sideways looks from other diners.

‘I’m sure he will,’ You mutter. ‘I appreciate your concern, but I was perfectly content as I was.’

‘So what is it, a second date? Third?’ The man continues, oblivious. ‘He clearly doesn’t know what he has if he’s left you unattended.’ He notices the dish with the cheque and your black card sitting by your elbow. ‘Oh, I see. He’s splashing the cash to impress you?’

He fumbles in his pockets for a moment, pulling out his wallet and displaying his own collection of cards. ‘I can match whatever he’s got.’

A snarl cuts through the air from behind you, and you don’t even need to look to know that Enjin’s expression is deadly. It’s evident in the way the blood drains from the man’s face.

Oblivious to the tension hanging thick in the air, a waitress appears with a card reader. You ignore the man entirely, smiling amiably and typing in your pin. She wishes you a good night and you chirp out a saccharine thanks! as she trots away, turning back to look at Enjin.

‘Hey, baby,’ You smile up at him, venom dripping from your words. ‘According to my new friend here, Mister…?’

He squeaks something that could be a name.

‘He thinks I’m ‘splashing the cash’ to impress you. Are you impressed?’

Enjin’s tail is lashing, his face thunderous. ‘I thought I heard the lady telling you to get lost.’

The man bolts up and tries to rush past Enjin back to whatever dark corner he’d emerged from. Enjin snags him by the back of his collar before he can escape.

‘Woah there. You gonna go without apologising to my girl?’

‘Sorry!’

‘For what?’ His snarl sends a shiver down your spine. You really shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were.

‘Sorry for bothering you, ma’am!’ Enjin shoves him and he stumbles away.

You slot your card back into your wallet and stand, sliding your hands round Enjin’s bicep and pecking him on the cheek. ‘Should we go?’

His ear is flicking in irritation as he leads you out of the restaurant, stony silence only breaking once you’re out of the doors and into the chilled night air.

‘What an asshole,’ He growls. ‘You okay, angel?’

‘More than okay,’ You purr, pulling him closer until your chest is pressed up against his arm. ‘That was hot.’

‘Huh?’ His eyes are wide as he looks down at you.

‘You g’na take me home and let me show you how grateful I am that you defended my honour?’

Enjin has never hailed a taxi so fast in his life.

You’re barely across the threshold when he has you scooped up over his shoulder, swatting your ass with the broad palm of his hand to hear you gasp. Your head spins as he tosses you onto the bed, pulling you towards him. Before you know what’s happening he’s got your skirt bunched around your waist and your panties are tossed into a distant corner of the bedroom.

‘So beautiful, ma,’ Enjin breathes, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. You send prayers up to whatever higher power is listening that he takes pity on you and the long months of abstinence you’d suffered through. There’s no teasing - just the flat of his tongue dragging through your folds, flicking at your clit and drawing a broken moan from your throat. ‘Missed the taste of you.’ His voice thrums through you, making you grind desperately against his mouth.

‘Need you, Jinnie,’ You beg, your hole clenching around nothing. You cry out when you feel him nip at your peaked clit.

‘You that needy for my cock?’ He teases from between your legs, sounding as hoarse with want as you are.

‘Ye-es,’ You plead. ‘Wanna feel you.’

‘’S been a long time, angel. Gotta get you ready first.’

You nearly sob with frustration, his mouth on you after so long sending pleasure zapping through your veins. One of his fingers presses into you, working past the first ring of muscle, and Enjin curses under his breath. It really has been a while - one finger has you seeing stars, curling up to that spot he knows sends you wild as he continues to lap at your clit like he’d been starving.

Fingers knot into his hair and he hisses with pleasure as your nails scratch the back of his ear. Your slick is drenching your thighs already, and when Enjin draws back from you his face is glistening and wet with you. The sight alone makes you clench around his digit, his grin revealing those cute dimples you love so much.

‘Y’look pretty like this, Jin,’ You murmur, shuddering when he works a second finger into you. His knuckles stretch at your walls, hitting at that spongy spot you can never reach by yourself with pinpoint accuracy and making your back arc up off the mattress.

‘Gonna cum for me already?’ His eyes are hungry and fixed on the point where his fingers are being swallowed by your pulsing cunt.

Right as the knot coiling at your core tightens, Enjin slows the movement of his fingers. You whine, teetering at the precipice of your climax as he works them deliberately inside you, dragging them against your walls and purposefully avoiding the spot you need him most.

‘So mean,’ You complain, tears pricking at your eyes. You try tilting your hips to make him push deeper into you when he pulls out of you entirely, leaving your pussy pulsing hungrily at nothing.

In an instant you’re on your stomach and his clothes join your underwear in the corner of the room. You grasp behind you for his cock, eliciting a chuff of pleasure as your fingers graze his length to try and line him up with your entrance. The smokey, woody scent you’d come to associate with him hangs thick in the air as he pins you to the bed, rubbing his cheek against any piece of exposed flesh he can. The neckline of your dress is tugged down, exposing your chest and leaving all the fabric bunched around your waist like some debauched Victorian aristocrat.

In one sharp movement he’s dragged your hips up, back arching and leaving you clutching at the sheets in anticipation. The size of him against you makes you shiver. You’d almost forgotten how big he was, how the mean upward curve grazes your ridged walls as he rolls his hips against yours.

A whimper tears its way out of his throat as he sinks in completely and you pulse around him, teary eyes peeking at him over your shoulder.

‘Shit, pretty girl,’ He pants. ‘Can’t look at me like that.’

‘Move, Jin,’ You plead in response, and he’s gone.

His fingers grip the fabric of your dress, pace immediately relentless as he ruts into you. With each stroke he nearly pulls out, leaving his blushing, leaking tip inside of you before snapping back forward. The obscene slurp of your walls around him fills the room, his balls whacking against your clit with every sharp thrust.

You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore, a stream of babbling pleas and desperate moans falling from your mouth alongside the drool that slips from your lips and soaks into the bed beneath you.

‘Missed you so much,’ Enjin says from above you, and you tighten around him at the realisation that he’s not talking to you - he’s talking to her. One hand loosens from its grip on your dress, moving to draw torturously delicious little circles over your clit, the feeling making your legs go weak. He pulls you closer against him, dribbling cockhead kissing your cervix over and over. ‘No running. She wants me right here.’ And then he’s pressing a hand to the bulge of him in your stomach, and you can feel everything.

‘Damn, ma,’ He purrs. ‘You wanted it bad, huh?’

There’s a rip and your dress is falling away in his hand.

‘I’ll get you a new one.’

‘I don’t give a fuck, Jin, just make me cum—‘

You don’t have to ask twice - he’s lifting you so that your back is pressed to his chest. With his bicep wrapped around your neck to keep you upright you swear you can feel him in your throat, each jerk of his body making your vision flash white with pleasure.

‘C’mon, angel, give it to me,’ He snarls into your ear. ‘’M g’na fill you up so good, ma.’

The slap of his fingers against your oversensitive clit sends you over the edge, your hips bucking helplessly as he keeps thrusting into you, working you through your high. The feeling of your cunt milking him is too much, and the thick ropes of milky cum splattering against your walls make you spasm in the aftershocks of your climax.

He’s nothing but tender with you afterwards, lowering you gently to the mattress and wrapping you up in his arms, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Your head rests comfortably on his shoulder, your legs still trembling as you trace the curving lines of his tattoos sleepily. His skin prickles with goosebumps in the wake of your feather-light touches.

His tail is threaded round your legs, fur tickling at the backs of your knees. ’What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?’ He hums, nuzzling his nose into your hair and breathing in your scent.

‘Don’t you think Leo would be the best big brother, Jin?’