#silent's furry au

[silentcutekitten]

I saw @batmanfruitloops revealed their Killer Moth and I knew exactly what I had to do

As you can see, their Killer Moth is... much beefier than mine. He's never been around another moth person before, so he's nervous...

The Killer Moth on the right belongs to batmanfruitloops!

I was a goober and didn't notice the fruitloops Killer Moth also had an abdomen, so here he is with it! (Main reason I wanted to draw him, because abdomen buddies!)

[heatherchasesyou]

Another old drawing I forgot to post I see 🧐

Oh but WELL Vincent the literal rat man is back 😳😳🐭🐭

[mantisgodsaus]

this is incredibly important. is zasp the bug equivalent of a furry in the sb au

No he's a pup play guy he's just allowed to do it as his day job

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (part four)

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Danny slowed his car down, staring at the black iron gate coming into view; Bats and ivy welded on in an elegant pattern, obviously more thought-out than The Drake's ducks had been. He had to give it to Tim, the kid had been right about how stupid the ducks looked.

Glancing around, Danny found he was completely alone on the dirt road. The gray sky slowly brightened as the sun climbed higher in the distance, trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and birds chirped.

If it hadn't been for his experiences at Vlad's place, he would have found the scenery comforting, maybe even inviting. But the knowledge that this was the home of a billionaire, one that went out at night to fight crime like a furry on crack nonetheless, ruined it.

Maybe he should just head back to the motel...

...

Fuck it, when had Phantom ever backed down? That's right! Never! Danny was going to stick to his metaphorical guns and follow through with his admittedly stupid plan.

Taking his foot off the brake; Danny activated his intangibility, shared it with the car, and drove through the gate. (look, what were his powers for if not to make his life convenient? He deserved it after literally dying for them. AND the gate was probably locked. There was no way he could convince someone to let him in at this time in the morning, so...)

Danny kept an eye on his surroundings as he drove, he doubted Bruce Wayne would have ghost vultures working for him, but that doesn't mean Danny wouldn't be prepared if he did.

Eventually, a large building came into view. Its gothic architecture and obvious timely design set it apart from Vlad's modern monstrosity of a castle. Danny could just tell this was a home for a family with old money; the weathered roof and aged water fountain told stories of the people who used to live there. This was a home, not just a house.

Pulling his car over and parking, Danny quickly sent a mental prayer to the home's ancestors. He hoped they could forgive him for what he was about to do.

Grabbing his backup phone and his keys, Danny tossed the car door open and stepped out. Immediately his senses were clouded with grief and anger. It was so strong he almost lost his footing. The house was just drenched in the emotions, tendrils reaching out and wrapping around anything and everything.

Closing his eyes, Danny held his breath so he could focus on blocking the emotions out. (flashes of someone else's memories rushed past his mind; a glimpse of a young boy sitting in a library reading a book. An older man sitting next to him silently. In another flash, the two were now in a dark cave, the light of a computer the only thing illuminating them as the older man draped a blanket across the boy's back. whispered words of sincere promises echoed in his head.)

He had believed Tim, but he hadn't expected it to be this bad. Ancients, this was worse than when he had to deal with Spectra.

Batman definitely needed therapy.

...

Maybe Jazz should be Robin instead, she'd know how to handle this properly. but Jazz wasn't here right now, she was in Sweden learning all about mental health. Which meant Danny would have to do this himself.

yay.

He had two options; One, he sits down with the man and they have a sincere and very emotional conversation. Or two, he beats it into the guy's head that he needs to stop going out and trying to get himself killed. Based on everything he knows about Batman? It was going to be number two that was going to get results... Well, at least Danny had experience punching things until he got what he wanted. (even if it didn't always work.)

Shaking himself out of his mind, Danny started making his way to the front door. It was past five in the morning, Bruce should be home now. Whether he was sleeping like Danny would assume he usually did, was a different question altogether.

Glancing around the door, Danny found there was a large rope hanging to the left. Vlad had the same thing at his place, it was an old-fashioned doorbell.

shrugging, Danny pulled on the rope and waited.

and waited.

and waited.

After a minute or two, Danny pulled the rope again. Suddenly the door swung open to reveal an older man dressed in a nice waistcoat and trousers.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, a British accent completing the look.

Danny blinked for a second before quickly focusing back on his task. "My name's Danny. Bruce is being a dumbass who needs to take a chill pill and take a step back from hospitalizing criminals. Can I come in?"

It was the old man's turn to stare and blink at him. After a minute, the man stepped back and opened the door, his eyebrow raised. "I would like to see how you plan to tell this to Master Bruce. His office is this way, young man."

"May I ask what exactly you're doing here?" the man asked, closing the door behind Danny.

Danny shrugged, "I'm here to beat some sense into him. He's going to get himself killed and no one wants to see what happens when he does."

The butler, because the rich fruitloop would obviously have one, hummed as he nodded his head in agreement. "I see. Maybe this is what he needs then. he won't listen to me, no matter how much I nag him."

Nothing else was said as he guided Danny through the manor, eventually stopping at a fancy dark wooden door. "Master Bruce, you appear to have a visitor." Then He opened the door and gestured for Danny to enter.

He only had a moment to ponder how he should do this before he entered the room. He should keep his powers hidden, for now at least.

He was greeted with the sight of an exhausted man in a bathrobe sitting at his desk and staring out the window. He was clutching a very worn and loved book in his hands, his brows slightly furrowed. (Danny noted that it was the same book the kid had been reading, The Hero and the Crown... or something like that, Danny hadn't really gotten a good look at the title.)

The butler stepped back, closing the door, and stood next to it to maybe await his new orders. Ones he probably wouldn't get any time soon, if the way Bruce hadn't moved or responded meant anything.

Well, if the old man wanted to see this then who was Danny to stop him?

Stepping forward, Danny leaned over the desk and slapped the back of Bruce's head. The man swiftly turned and stared at him, raising one of his hands to touch his head in shock. Danny heard the butler choke in surprise but ignored him. He could only pray to Clockwork that Bruce didn't kill him for this.

"You are being absolutely idiotic, dude." Danny declared. "Do you think Jason would have wanted you to act like this?" Bruce stood up, his chair slamming into the wall, his eyes burning in anger. "No? Then get your shit together and be the man he would be proud of."

Bruce lunged over the desk, his fist pulled back to hit Danny. It was just like Danny expected, just like Tim had told him, the man was letting his emotions control his actions. Dodging to the side, Danny continued talking, "This going out every night, fighting more and more dangerous and outlandish people all by yourself? It's going to get you killed."

Bruce gave up on trying to punch him, instead, he threw himself forward and body-slammed Danny to the floor. Danny coughed, quickly blocking his face as Bruce took a swing at him. Using the man's blind anger to his advantage, Danny kicked Bruce in the chest and sent him flying into his desk. "Jason's dead. It sucks. and it hurts. It's probably the worst pain you've ever experienced, but there's nothing you can do about it."

Danny glared at the man as he scrambled into a crouch, waiting to see what Bruce did next. "Shut up," the man growled, shoving himself up and away from his desk. He picked up his stapler; he was probably either going to use it as a blunt weapon or throw it at Danny. Widening his stance, Danny got ready to dodge or lunge.

He remembered reading about him, online when he first became Phantom. He remembered reading about Robin and Batman and how they worked together to protect Gotham. How they tirelessly worked day and night to put their rogues away every time they got out again.

He remembered seeing pictures of Batman standing next to little Robin, a proud smile on his face as the police took the criminals away. Pictures of the man helping and protecting Robin whenever the boy couldn't handle whatever mess he had gotten into. There was even a memorable one of Batman scolding an obviously sheepish Robin, a knocked-out Riddler slumped behind him.

He had wished so badly for someone to help him back them, for someone to be his Batman when times got hard. He remembered how devastated he was when it turned out the only person like him was Vlad. Vlad, who had wanted to murder his father and marry his mother. Vlad, who had overshadowed people to gain more wealth and power. Vlad, who hadn't seen how wrong it was to try and clone him.

He remembered the comments and videos from the citizens of Gotham, cheering for their heroes when they succeeded in capturing the rogues. How they still supported them when they failed. It was nothing like Amity's reaction to him.

He remembered how Gothom reacted when Robin was pronounced dead. How the city had cried and raged. He felt it all the way over in Amity, the grief and anger. The whole city had come together to mourn the boy who protected them. Even two years later, Danny could still feel the echoes.

"Jason's dead. He's dead and gone and you're letting yourself get consumed with your grief. but you made a promise Bruce."

Danny knew he had, it was the same promise Danny had made just four years ago.

Bruce's eyes widened and the anger that was surging in his eyes froze for just a moment. His hand loosened around the stapler but didn't let it go. The butler looked concerned, unsure if he should interfere or not.

"You made a promise all those years ago when you first dawned that stupid bat suit. You promised to do everything in your power to help your city. To protect it. Robin made the same promise. When he took up his suit. They both did."

Bruce's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing. Danny lowered his body, still ready to dodge at a moment's notice.

"You made a promise to your son, Bruce. Even if he didn't know it. One that you couldn't keep."

Bruce threw the stapler, making Danny jump to the side to dodge it. His mistake was not keeping an eye on what Bruce did after throwing it. The man quickly rushed up to him, eyes blazing in anger. "You don't know anything!" he cried, his fist slamming into Danny's jaw. Danny staggered back but ducked under the next punch.

"I lost my son! I wasn't there!" Bruce shouted, kicking Danny's legs out from under him. Danny's back hit the floor, knocking the breath out of him. Bruce followed him down, breaking his nose with another punch to the face. "I promised I would protect him and I wasn't there!"

Danny growled, catching Bruce's fist in his hand and sending a punch at the side of Bruce's head. Bruce tried to lean back, Danny's fist clipping his forehead. Bruce grunted, reaching up to grab Danny's fist to keep him from punching him again.

"You couldn't protect him! I get it, it sucks!" Danny shouted back, flashes of Dani's melting form grasping at his shirt in panic pulled to the front of his mind. "It leaves a black hole in the center of your chest! It sucks all the warmth out of you, leaving only the cold bitter knowledge that you couldn't save him!" (that he couldn't save her)

Bruce pulled his fist out of Danny's hand, slamming his elbow down into Danny's chest and twisting Danny's right arm sharply in an attempt to break it. Danny kept talking though, ignoring the pain as he pulled his arm out of Bruce's grasp, "But Jason made a promise! and you're doing nothing to keep it!"

Danny grabbed onto Bruce's bathrobe and flipped them so Bruce was the one on the floor now. Quickly reaching up, Danny grabbed both of Bruce's hands and held them as still as he could. Bruce was strong, but Danny had years of fighting Skulker and the other super-strong ghosts under his belt. "He made that promise knowing that you had made the same one!"

Bruce growled, throwing his head up in an attempt to hit Danny with it. Danny leaned back, accidentally loosening his grip just enough for Bruce to break out of it. Bruce shoved him off of him, making Danny slide back and hit a chair.

Grunting, Danny stood up and lunged at Bruce. Bruce dodged to the side, dropping down to pick the stapler back up. "I can't claim to know what Jason would have wanted," Danny spat, backing up to give himself more space as Bruce stepped toward him. "but I know as someone who made the same promise, I wouldn't have wanted you to change into what you are now!"

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Danny, "Yeah, and what's that?" he growled.

"A careless, suicidal, moron," Danny growled back.

Bruce froze, stopping in place as he stared at Danny.

Danny took his chance to drive his point home; standing up straight, he raised his hands up in surrender. "He was your son. He looked up to you for protection. For guidance. And sure, maybe you weren't the best dad, and maybe you made mistakes. But you were his dad."

Danny stepped forward, watching as the butler stepped forward to reach out to the man. "and what kind of son would want his dad to kill himself?"

Bruce dropped his stapler, his eyes falling to the ground and catching onto the book he had dropped earlier. It was opened to the front page, written words in messy writing covering it.

"You need to stop, Bruce," Danny said, slowly crouching down and reaching out for the book. Bruce watched him as he stood up, the book still open to the front page in his hands. Jason's writing visible to all of them.

"you couldn't keep your promise to protect him. It sucks and it hurts. but you can keep his promise. The same promise you made all those years ago."

Bruce looked up at him, his blue eyes filling with tears, the butler's hand resting on his shoulder. Danny stepped forward again, holding the book out for Bruce to take.

"You can't protect Gotham if you're dead."

Jason's handwritten note stared up at them, the ink messy and smudged.

'to the best dad in the world and the many adventures we'll go on!'

and Bruce? Bruce crumbled to the floor with a sob, leaving Danny to stand in front of him. Blood running down his face, staining his hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pants, the book still held out with steady hands.

Next

[fureliselost]

Dpxdc twin au in which Danny and Damian are fraternal twins

It's a classic "the Fentons misunderstood Danny's name and registered him as Daniel" but they accidentally transe Danny's gender and Danny never corrects them. Strangely, Danny likes it.

Eventually, the Fentons figure out, but Danny says he doesn't mind and they go with it.

(note: In this Danny is kinda nb/transmasc/gender weird, gender is neutral to him and he's fine with being called whatever, although male pronouns are the ones he uses the most)

Cut to Danny being dragged by Vlad to a gala (Vlad can be good but annoying in this idc) and Vlad is proudly displaying his "godson".

Duke: Hey, Damian, did you see the kid Vlad Masters brought?

Damian: I thought father said he wouldn't go into business with Masters.

Duke: He still attends for appearances. (Shrugs) Anyway, got any twins you didn't tell us about?

Damian: Yes.

Duke: 'Cause that guy looks just like—what?

Damian: I said I have a twin you don't know about.

Damian explains to the batclan that Danny was sent on a mission (as punishment) to keep track of the Fentons, since they studied "Lazarus Water". And then they forgot about it. The last time Damian heard of Danny was right before the accident.

On Danny's side, he knows Damian will be there before he goes — he's kept track of his twin's public persona (and vigilante life). He'd been doing a great job of not interacting and keeping from being spotted, as was protocol for if two agents ended up on the same field — he knew Damian wasn't an agent anymore, but assumed the protocol still applied. He knew, the moment Duke Thomas spoke to him and then went straight toward Damian, that he'd failed that protocol.

Now, Damian was trying to convince him to leave the League.

"Daniyah, there is another way."

"I know there is another way," Danny replied, "Except I told you about it for years and you never listened." During the years away from his family, Danny had missed them, his memory softened the feeling of anger at the way his twin always moulded his ideals to whoever ruled him. "We aren't supposed to be speaking, I'm still an agent, I'm breaking protocol by being here."

They'd sneaked off to a room along with Damian's siblings, who watched attently and and silently. "You don't have to be an agent anymore."

"Yes, I do." Danny spat, "You don't seem to have realized, but some of us don't have the privilege of being the favorite. I never had the privilege of being saved."

Damian scowled, "Being saved is not a privilege."

"It isn't," Danny agreed, "You're just forgetting that when you got freedom in reward, I got sent on a mission as punishment. You're still free and I'm still being punished, so I'm not sure you understand exactly what my position is." He moved to leave, "I'm not a damsel in distress, and I don't need your furry parade to save me."

[chaosspear]

after sitting on this game in my steam wishlist for ages, I finally gave it a try when another one of my friends started it, and it ended up becoming one of my favorite rpgs (and games in general) of all time. the emotional rollercoaster this game put me through is unparalleled. so obviously i needed to turn all the main characters into ponies and funny animals.

Notes on my reasoning and thoughts below! (Including major game spoilers!)

As for the sonic character animals the reasons are a lot more simple also i didnt for au lore crazy with them. theyre just furries now: Siffrin- he literally goes nya. he makes cat mouths all the time. they also like silently hanging out with their loved ones, agile and sneaky, etc. Mirabelle- she is so fucking nervous all the time. a little guy seemed fitting. Also, unintentionally, her being a mouse with her rapier makes her look like the tale of despereaux guy Isabeau- a supportive, happy go lucky guy being made a dog seemed pretty obvious, but i wanted to be a little more creative and thoughtful than that, so i specifically went for a smarter dog breed: a collie :] kind of like herding he also brings and corrals the group together Odile- suggestion of a friend, a yellow-throated marten :] just looked really cool and very odile. simple as that Bonnie- wombat-- suggestion from a friend, too :] But in general the idea was a burrowing animal, because they're digging in the ground for tubers to me.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 25

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: 😁.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.  

You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you. 

“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.  

There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand. 

“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says. 

You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline. 

The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly. 

She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets. 

“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.” 

“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue. 

“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.” 

You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak. 

“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.” 

“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?” 

“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.” 

You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall. 

Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious. 

Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow. 

⚔️

Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you? 

You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.  

You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen. 

"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!" 

"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside. 

"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it." 

"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?" 

"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet." 

Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question. 

You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.  

The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it. 

You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard. 

You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse. 

You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are. 

A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense. 

You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them. 

Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door. 

Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears. 

“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.” 

“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?” 

“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.” 

You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers. 

“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?” 

“Sir, it was only for a moment--” 

“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?” 

“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.” 

“The queen bids it--” 

“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles. 

You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews. 

“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder. 

“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.” 

“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully. 

“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.” 

“And we are to leave on the morrow?” 

“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.” 

“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip. 

“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.” 

You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...” 

“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.” 

There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot. 

You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features. 

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall. 

“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.” 

She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.” 

You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant. 

You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free. 

She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.  

“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?” 

You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.” 

“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?” 

The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes. 

“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows. 

There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage. 

Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud? 

You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better. 

[neopuppy]

Walk You Home (M)

pairing. jaemin x female reader

genre. baseball AU, pwp…what plot, explicit smut, M/F, dom Jaemin, established fwb(maybe feelings)

warnings. pet play, nicknames: kitten/kitty, use of a furry tail butt plug, degradation/praise, unprotected vaginal sex, owner/pet roleplay, soft moments. minors DNI.

wc. 4k+

now playing. Walk You Home//NCT Dream

a/n. I did not abandon this series🗿

“Whad’ya wanna do later?” Jeno bumps into your side in casual greeting, distractedly tapping away at his phone screen.

Pink fluffy triangular ears blend with highlights of white, lit up bright against the dark interior of your locker. “Uh,” hiding them beneath your bag swiftly, you turn to face him, pressing your back into the hollow space as if he may see the incriminating costume piece. “Later?”

Jeno peers up at you slowly, half-focused on whatever discussion he’s attempting to catch up on in one of the various group chats he’s been forced to join. “Why do you sound confused?”

“Right,” nodding, you sneak a glance past his shoulder in search of a round set of diabolic eyes. “I can’t today.”

“What, why??” Jeno says, clearly lost before trailing your gaze across the hall. He sighs, muttering ‘dick’ under his breath. “Fine, he’s really stressed out about this next game. Huge scouts coming to watch him play.”

Jeno’s hand waves haphazardly, continuing on about how Jaemin better start acting grateful that he’s lucky enough to have a best friend who cares for him this much.

‘Does kitty want to play?’ Jaemin’s eyebrows raise, meeting your line of sight; silently repeating the scribbled note attached to the ears in your locker. One side of his face picks up, the poor effort to full on smirk brings to light how badly he needs this.

Of course kitty wants to play.

Jaemin’s walking extra slow, each step more purposeful then the last as he enters his neighborhood and spots a familiar figure sat in front of his house. A tickle of excitement grows within him with each pass of another house.

Cement ground beneath his sneakers is still wet from odd weather blooming into Spring, the puddles of leftover morning rain reflecting back how drained and exhausted his sunken eyes make him appear.

It’s been a long month, too long, long enough that he’s hardly had the time or energy to bother you; which he’s sure Jeno is more than happy about. He sighs, flicking away strands of loosened hair from his forehead upon taking in the cute way you sit with your ankles crossed together, ears perched on your head perfectly out in the open where anyone can see.

“What’s this?” He hums, gliding closer to pinch your chin between his thumb and index finger. “Did my kitten sneak out again?”

“Jaemin..” you say demurely, lowering your gaze as his other hand reaches for your cheek to keep your attention on him.

“What was that, kitty?” He asks, a rasp lingering in his tone with more intensity behind his large glossy eyes. “You know better than that.”

His lips twitch, tongue flicking out to moisten them as he watches you intently awaiting for your next move, knowing well which way this can go depending on your mood today.

A satisfied smile stretches his lips with your heavy set gaze blinking upward, a pleading expression and a light vibration emitting from your throat, cheek finding a hiding space in his palm to nuzzle into.

He lets out an exaggerated tired sigh, bending at his knees to cup your cheeks and stroke along the warmed up flesh, lips pouted together by the weight of his palms pressing in. “Such a naughty kitten, after all I do for you..”

Jaemin’s thumbs dig into the meat of your bottom lip, pressing until your mouth gives in, allowing the tips of his fingers to reach inside and apply pressure on your tongue. “Do you even know how dangerous it is for a pretty pretty little kitty like you to be out here alone?”

He shakes his head, pushing harder on the center of your tongue until drool spills out past the corners of your mouth. “I do my best to take care of you, don’t I?”

He has to hold back a chuckle when you nod, the desperation loud enough even without words, making your best effort to lap at his thumbs despite a wad of saliva collecting at the back of your throat causing you to gag.

“You don’t take me serious enough,” He scolds, pushing his digits against your cheeks until the fat squeezes between each. “I do this for your own good, kit. How long have you even been out here, huh? Showing off your shiny coat for anyone to admire?”

Releasing his grip on your face he latches onto your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap; immediately smothered by his biceps that seem to expand endlessly in mass.

“You know what I have to do now, don’t you?”

Jaemin’s smooth forehead gathers down the middle, taut skin wrinkling up as he smirks, smoothing a thick palm up your thigh to feel under your skirt; his pearly front teeth poke out with tight cheeks to hide a smile as his fingers skim higher and higher until they stroke between the crease your upper thigh creates.

“Bad bad kitty,” he tsks, pushing between your squeezed legs to cup your center. “Sitting out here for any nasty dog to come find and fuck, you want me to punish you that much?”

Jaemin knows you’ve been on edge ever since opening your locker, probably squirming your way through class picturing the different ways he’d play with you today, it’s not as if he’s ever been one to go easy on you.

“I’ve been so stressed lately, you know..” leaning forward he whispers, the tip of his nose pressing to yours as his fingers work to spread your folds open, letting out a soft pleased sigh at the first touch of wetness he finds. “When I really can’t handle it all, I think about you.”

The pads of two digits roll in a circle tracing over your entrance accompanied with a loud nearly embarrassing sound of arousal pushing out against his teasing touch, he breathes heavier over your parted lips, a minty aftertaste of mouthwash he swirled after practice tickles between each puff of air meeting yours. “Think about how you always know exactly what I need.”

Jaemin’s lips part between yours, skimming back and forth as he proceeds to murmur incoherently, adding pressure with each press of his digits against your entrance until your hole gives and allows him to slip in to the first knuckle.

“Mmmphh..” moans come out more struggled, trapped in your throat as you attempt to calm enough to keep up this act, nuzzling into his nose with parted lips for him to suck at different areas inside and out.

“My kitty likes that,” he says, gliding in further with more strength in seek of the pleasure point inside of you. “Your owner knows how to take care of you best.”

Jaemin’s lips slot against yours with a firm press, tongue slipping in past the gasp you let out when his thumb makes contact with your clit, the thick pad of his finger rubbing back and forth while the two filling you up pick up speed; each thrust reaching deeper and deeper echoing vulgar sounds of wetness from between your thighs.

“Don’t cum.” Jaemin pants out, lapping at your tongue falling from your lips to chase after more of his soft rapidly swelling lips. “You don’t get to get to cum like this.”

He grunts, pumping his hand faster, the fat of his palm smacking loudly upon contact with your core, thumb relentlessly rubbing your clit to a stiffened little point. “Bad kittens don’t get to cum this easily.”

Jaemin knows by the way your teeth bury down and the whined whimpers stuggling to escape from the back of your throat that you’re close, trembling against him from the force of his fingers working in and out of you faster and faster. “You’re gonna be a good little kitty for me, right? Do what your owner tells you to do for once.”

A small helpless nod is the best you can do to answer, clenching down on his digits to slow his rapid motions, useless as his bicep only rounds out more, the muscles fully bulged up; a smile stretching his lips lifting up the sharpened outer corners. “Bad kitty thinks she deserves to cum? After breaking my rules and sneaking out.”

“N..nu..” your lips tighten into a thin line as Jaemin’s smile only grows more menacing, itching for you to break and beg, a satisfied gleam taking over his gaze as he feels you clamp down around him repeatedly; quelling your orgasm away with tears burning down your cheeks. The pain of stifling your climax tingles through your stomach, aching it’s way up to your chest unhappily.

Jaemin’s fingers slide out messily, leaving your hole gaping open and shut expecting more to get you off properly. The two digits coated in your arousal as he lifts them between your mouths and smears the excess of it across your lips and chin.

“Come on, my good little pet” he moves to stand, gaze locked on yours, motioning his eyebrows upward as he steps back. “Now kitten..”

Jaemin’s tone falls into a low growl, half-threatening as you begin to get up, staying put with your knees bent and a confused tilt of your head. “Hmm?”

“Since when do kitties walk on two legs?” Tilting his head to the side in the same manner to mock you, his arms come up to cross over his chest, the bulk of muscles thick and corded on top of each other causing you to gulp as you return to your knees and set your palms flat.

A chill of breeze runs across the backs of your bare thighs, skirt lifted up higher in a bent position leaving the tail plugged inside of your ass exposed. Jaemin knows the neighborhood’s mostly calm and empty at this time of the day, but the idea of anyone spotting you in this position shoots straight to his cock nonetheless, biting down on his bottom lip as he ponders how shameless you can get.

“Come on kitten, it’s dinner time.”

Jaemin takes steps back, heading inside without stumbling once, even with his trained gaze focused on your hips swaying side and side and the grimace hidden behind your pursed lips with each hard press of your knees to the floor. He stops just at his bedroom door, crouching down to smooth your hair away from your face and sets a gentle peck on the bridge of your nose, petting the ears clipped to your crown softly. “Such a good kitty.”

Hands make way to your throat, encasing you snuggly as his eyes begin to roam over your chest and smushed together thighs. “I got you something, a surprise.”

He stands back up, finger curling in, motioning for you to enter his bedroom. “Something that should help when you try to run away again.”

Jaemin grins, nodding to a pink bowl neatly placed near a cage just large enough to fit yourself into. Hesitation halts your movement, glancing back and forth from the cage to his smug face, remembering the last time he’d left you locked up for hours until you cried enough to be let out. “What’s wrong, kit?”

Moving behind you he pats your butt right where the tail disappears inside of your rim, pushing a hiss from your lips as you continue to crawl forward, glancing over your shoulder when you reach the bowl.

“Dinner first, then I’ll give you your gift.”

Jaemin sits down, unbuttoning his jeans as he leans back into the gamer chair in front of his computer screens; his gaze staying trained on yours continuously glancing back and forth between him and the bowl of milk beneath you. The only way to properly pick any of the creamy liquid with your mouth requiring to get further down, jutting your round hips out further. The postion giving him a perfect view of your waist disappearing into your heart-shaped bottom, tail popped up high with your buttcheeks split open ready for the taking.

“Eat up kitten.” Jaemin beams, shifting from side to side in his chair, one of his palms finding a place to rest between his thighs. “It’s your favorite.”

Jaemin’s favorite.

Watching you struggle to stay bent with your back arched in deep, on all fours unable to use anything but your tongue to lap at the sweet cream. Most of it ends up on your chin and chest, dripping down your neck, drying up similar to his cum pouring from your chin while you take his cock in every hole.

Hooded eyes peer up between kitten licks of milk, dribbling out past the corners of your lips, Jaemin focused as he intently watches the clear white droplets pour down your throat and ripple their way between your breasts.

He hums, satisfied, palming his crotch roughly over his jeans while you continue to slurp. “Tastes good kitten?” Jaemin asks, voice gone husky with the need to fuck you.

The sound of his palm slapping against his jean-clad thigh halts your action, gazing up dumbfounded to Jaemin leaning back, legs spread open beckoning you to come to him. Without cleaning your mouth off, you begin a short crawl to nestle against his inner thigh on your knees with your chin perched on his knee, the sound of his tongue clicking on repeat accompanying your walk over.

“So pretty when you listen..” Jaemin cooes, swiping his thumbs beneath your damp eyes. “My good little pet.” Your thighs pinch together the more he drawls on, stroking up your triangular ears, manipulating the fur in different directions while your cheek nuzzles against the inside of his thigh akin to a kitten scenting their owner.

“Remember what I’ve taught you?”

Without allowing you more time to even think, his hips slide forward, forcing your nose to crush against the seam lining the middle of his crotch; heavy balls smothering hot along your face permeating a mixture of musky arousal. The hidden smell of raw sex emitting from the confines on his covered groin is enough to have you gasping for air, dizzied by the heady thick aroma filling your senses.

Jaemin’s reaches past your waist, large palms closed over your torso sliding down hotly, tugging your skirt completely up to unveil your ass. “Fuck.” He growls, hips pushing forward roughly, digging your face to smash higher against the damp cloth of his briefs, thick cock throbbing heavily against the middle of your face. He bends closer, the first thwack of weighty palm colliding with your ass jolts you leaving a stinging sharp pain the harder he lands, gnawing at the insides of your cheek to contain a pitiful cry.

“So slutty,” Jaemin says, throatily groaning between gritted teeth. Two of his fingers trace the plug pinching in and out against your rim, still wet from the lube you used to stretch yourself open. Tail swaying cutely behind you the more he slaps his free hand on your hip, gripping at the meaty flesh on your bottom with a tight squeeze. “Dirty kitty, fucking your hole open just to let me play with you.”

Jaemin rarely breaks character until his arousal consumes him, evident in the way his hips haven’t stopped rocking against your face, congesting your air flow with the underside of his clothed cock rutting over your gasping mouth. Another succession of smacks has you drooling, incoherent sounds of pained moans and mewls lost between the heap of heavy cock and and cotton suffocating you; distracting enough to miss one of his digits sneaking in beside the plug.

“So tight, so warm..” Jaemin licks over his spit slick lips, finger nudging alongside the cool metal shape filling your hole. An exerted groan wishing to exit your lips the more he adds to the stretch, burning around your rim as he tugs to watch your hole pinch around him. “It’s my fault you ran off kitten, I’ve been too busy as of late, right?”

Jaemin knows you won’t answer much other than a pathetic mewl you try to force down, mouthing at his crotch like the thirsty pet you are, leaving copious patches of drool behind, enough to darken the material and perfectly outline the shape of his fat hard cock.

“I need to make it up to you..” his finger releases, lifting to his mouth to smear the leaked out lube across his plump lips, the gleam too vulgar to possibly be legal as he sucks in a breath with his mouth popped open. “Is that what you need?”

Jaemin’s big round eyes shine from where they peer down at you, damp fingers trace across your face smoothly gliding over the definition of your cheekbones. His touch feels gentle, petting you with light strokes and tapping the tip of your nose. The answer a lazy nod with your mouth latched to his clothed size.

“I know what will make you happy.” He grins devilishly, appeased by how happy he will feel as well. The slide of his drawer catches your attention as he reaches to pull out a rectangular velvet box, snapping his fingers for you to sit up on your knees properly.

“That pretty neck..” he reaches, locking his heavy palm around the expanse of your throat again. The grip tighter this time, using his thumb to push under your jaw and keep your lost gaze on him. “Could use some decoration.”

Jaemin snaps open the case displaying a pink vinyl collar, the center decal in the shape of a heart with a kitten paw adorning the plaque and a little silver bell attached to the tip. His smile grows along with the size of your eyes as he discards the box to fit the collar around your neck. “Tight?” He whispers, moving to the very first hole when you gasp and nod, the material digging into your throat just enough to add to the lightness that’s begun to take over your mind.

“So pretty,” he bites down on his lip, pinching your chin to turn your face side to side, admiring the veins pulsing up the sides of your neck beneath the collars constraint. “Now I’ll always be able to find you kitten.”

Jaemin flicks the bell, chiming obnoxiously against the dip between your collarbone. The sound of it rings like a bell instinctively straightening out your spine to stand alert.

“One more thing..”

Pushing his chair away, he stands, hand dipping into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out a thin leash, dangling it in the air slowly as he takes in your eyes nearly going cross eyed. “Not typical, but a bad bad kitty like you can’t be trusted..”

He clasps the leash and collar together, wrapping the leash up tight around his fist, hand coming down to pet your head in a tender manner. “The cage wasn’t enough..”

Jaemin’s fist rips back, lunging your body forward back onto all fours, his free hand coming down to smack your ass again. “Up.”

The leash tugs harder, leading you to the edge of his bed until you manage to lay your upper half stomach flat between coughs and choked breath, his hand landing like a snapping whip against any bare skin. “Do you even realize how wet you are right now?” He sneers, hot palm lodging between your thighs to cup your core, shooting your spine into an arch.

“Such a fucking slut, getting off from being treated like this.” Jaemin’s hand glides down to your knees, wet slick that won’t stop bubbling from your hole reaching its way down to the tops of your thigh-highs. “What did I do to deserve such a naughty kitten?” The sudden pull at your neck jolts your head back, panting short breaths of air in a panic the less oxygen reaches your brain.

“I’ll teach you once and for all to listen.” Jaemin pulls at your tail, the thickest part of the plug stretching you apart as he lays it upward on your back and tugs his cock free to swipe between the mess covering your inner thighs. “You’ll be a good kitty for Nana from now on.”

The tip of his length nudges against your folds side to side teasingly, causing your thighs to shake in anticipation, hours passing since excitement for this moment brings you to the edge faster; biting down on your tongue to not shout out ‘fuck me please!’.

“There it is..” he groans, cockhead dipping in and out of your pulsating entrance. “Exactly what I needed.”

With held breath Jaemin pushes in finally, the size of him thick in all the right places, girthy and hard pushing your walls open forcefully with a rough rock of his hips. The belt hanging from his jeans clapping againsts the back of your thighs as he crashes down on you, expelling a low growl from his chest. Quickly tugging off his shirt he leans in, crushing his chest and weight against your upper back, hips grinding down to make you feel every inch. “So tight for me kitty, so fucking wet and tight.”

Jaemin’s energy matches yours, immediately jerking back into a quick thrust forward, the restriction on your neck never letting up even as his pace builds and slams into you harder. The sound of his ragged breath circling your head along with the chime of your bell collar shaking with each collision of his hips against your ass. He’s always rough, more desperate than usual as he grips your hair at the scalp and shoves the side of your face against his bed.

“My kitten, so pretty, fuck.” He spews through gritted teeth, nose shoved into your cheek, breaking a sweat the more he forces his length deep inside of you. “Feel good, yeah?”

“Jaem—ughhh” his tongue drags across your face, nastily licking up the sweat and tears that have slidden down. Digging his cock inside of you with another deep thrust until you scream, feet kicking against the floor.

“Doing so good for me kitty.” Jaemin’s hands splay down on your shoulders, pushing you deep into the bed to pull himself out, the loss of his length throwing you into a fit. “Shh, shhh, I said be good.” He rasps, pulling on your shoulders to manhandle you higher onto the bed, knees digging into the backs of your thighs.

“Jaemin.. please please..” your voice cracks from lack of use, squeezing your eyes shut as his nails dig into your back and claw down, ripping the tail stuffing your ass suddenly.

“Fuck.” Jaemin spits, licking up the sweat on his upper lip as three fingers shove into your open rim, cock pushing back inside of you all at once. “Nasty filthy slut, so fucking tight kitten, wish you could see how good you take it.”

His pace accelerates, slamming in faster than before, hand jerking where he continues to stretch your ass open, his other finding your hair once again to hold onto. “That’s right, take it like the fucking slut you are.”

Jaemin thrusts turn merciless, messy and offbeat reaching closer as he continues to babble nonsense. “My little f-fuck toy, dirty.. dirty kitty, letting me—use you.”

“Jaemin! Ah, Jaemin!!” Thick muscles circle your neck, using the leverage to thrust in past your orgasm locking your pussy tight around him, growling brokenly while you whimper and beg for him to cum.

“Please, cum, w-want please—please!”

Jaemin cries out a growl, pulling out of you to press into your ass, cock throbbing with release pouring inside of your neglected whole. Panting curses as his thighs tremble, cock twitching, pushing out the last few spurts of cum into your ass.

His eyebrows stay twisted, teeth grinding together hard enough for the sound to carry and vibrate near your ear, his wet spent cock slapping down on your lower back. “Stay still… good little kitten..” he mumbles, voice coming out more dry and raspy, lazily gripping one of your buttcheeks to hold you open.

“My sweet kitty listened well today,” he sighs, pushing the tip of your plug to scoop up any cum that’s begun to drip out. “Earned a treat.”

Jaemin shushes the groan you let out as he stuffs the plug back inside of you, extra lubricated by his release only partially dripping out past the toy. Clicking his tongue he strokes your tail, smoothing the ruffled hairs down until it sits pretty above the backs of your thighs.

“Stay.” He whispers, nearly too quiet to decipher with lips pressed along your nape.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t want you to leave yet.” Jaemin litter’s featherlite kisses against your shoulder blade. “Stay for the night.”

“I can’t..”

“Please?” He sounds mildly desperate, built arms circle your waist from behind with a soft squeeze, suggesting an offer of unusual cuddling. “..Walk you home in the morning.”

“Promise?” You smile to yourself, eyes lazy as the warmth pressed to your body begins to feel too good, adjusting against his bed to lay comfortably. Jaemin hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with breathy groans buzzing against your jaw.

“Of course kitten, anything for you.”

[wildestdreamsblog]

Might as well be drunk in love: 2 of 2 (sneakpeak)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This is only a sneakpeak of day 2. I'm not yet done writing the second chapter but I feel bad bcos of how long it's taking me...so here it is! Sneakpeak of day 1. Also, the entire chapter will be posted here when I'm done and satisfied with it :> Enjoy po

Part 1, Full day 1

“No one told me that we have an adorable new housemate.”

The six sleepy men sitting around the dining table looked up as soon as Park Jimin walked entered the room, in his arms was a fluffy cat that was actively hissing at him. He cooed down at it, softly stroking the thick fur with his hand that was now sporting claw marks.

“We’re already so close!” he announced with softness in his voice despite the repetitive kicks brought by the furry creature in his arm.

“I don’t think you are liked very much…” Jungkook quietly commented, his doe eyes went even larger at the bleeding scratches on his skin. As if sensing an opportunity to escape, the cat suddenly wriggled free from Jimin's arms and darted across the room, landing squarely in Hoseok's lap.

“Hi, my son! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked affectionately, reaching down to stroke the cat's fur.

“Hyung has a secret son!” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung in a scandalous manner, clutching his nonexistent pearls. Taehyung, who looked like he lived and fought through three wars from his exhausted form and his sluggish movement only nodded at Jungkook.

“Whose cat is that? Is that yours, J-hope?” Jin asked, pointing at the cat with his mug. He didn’t know that they now had a furry housemate. Additionally, he didn’t know that he was a cat person.

Namjoon just smirked at his brothers, “That’s not his.”

“My God, I am so tired,” Jimin sat next to Taehyung, his muscles aching with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his whole weight on his friend, seeking some semblance of comfort in their shared weariness.

"Everything hurts," Taehyung moaned, mirroring Jimin's sentiment. He glanced over at Namjoon, pleading silently for a solution. "We need her. Hyung, please. Do something," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Jungkook finally put down his spoon with a loud thud, standing up to look at them one by one. “Okay, I cannot be the only one curious about whose cat that is!” he pointed at the cat who only meowed back at him before shifting his finger to his hyung who was silently eating with a smile on his face. “And you, why do you look so good this morning, hyung, while the four of us look like we are 3 hours away from passing away?” he asked Yoongi, his doe eyes demanding answers from the chaotic bunch that only turned more chaotic as the morning wore on.

Yoongi, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee, raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's question. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement. "Well, Kookie, some of us are just naturally blessed with good genes," he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Excuse me?! Are you saying that I am not blessed with good genes?! Me?! The world wide handsome?! Now, you’re just outright lying!”

“Hyuuuuung, do something! I think I’m dying!” Taehyung shouted amidst the noise.

“Stop screaming you’re scaring my son!” Hoseok shot back all while covering the cat’s little ears.

“Whose cat is that even?!” Jungkook asked again in disbelief, the vein in his throat protruding from annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh my God, Taehyung! I already did something, okay?!” Namjoon finally raised his voice for him to hear.

“Ahhhhhhh, my head hurts and she’s the only cure! I have to go to her!” Jimin whined sadly, attempting to leave his chair slowly.

“In that state?!” Jin shouted at Jimin and Taehyung, already feeling the stress causing havoc on his otherwise beautiful face.

But Taehyung and Jimin were already halfway out of their chair, clutching their heads dramatically. "I can't take this anymore! I need her!" he wailed, his eyes darting around the room with desperation only to find you by some miracle.

“Little one…” he called, his voice small as though he couldn’t believe that you were truly there. It was like their pain manifested you, and heavens, it was worth it. He’d willingly go through this pain if it meant seeing you and having you here where you belonged.

With them.

“Good morning, has anyone seen my cat?”

Your voice, despite it being low, was sufficient to stop the bickering among the CEOs. How they heard you amidst their own noise, you didn’t know. One thing was for certain, though. They were attuned to you like lovesick men did. Their eyes were on you with varying emotions. Jungkook was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung and Jimin, on the other hand, were relieved. Yoongi's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delight at the sight of you. Seokjin stared at you in disbelief, as if trying to comprehend how you managed to appear amidst the chaos. Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a sense of contentment and joy. The pair looked like they secured an extremely important deal and even won the lottery at the same day.

You didn’t see Taehyung moved but you certainly felt how his heavy body fell against yours. You certainly heard his sigh of relief even as he swayed on his feet.

And when you touched his hand to support him, that was when he fell.

[buckyalpine]

Shapeshifting Bucky

Random thought from the depths of crackfic hell. But imagine an AU where Bucky's time with hydra also included the ability to shape shift on top of his super soldier serum. He can turn into whatever but he really only shifts into a wolf most of the time. Stealthy, huge, strong, agile and an absolute puppy. Werewolf Bucky is the scariest mf to exist. In his wolf form, his fur is nearly jet black, a stark contrast to his beautiful blue eyes. His teeth turn into sharp fangs and his claws could slash through just about anything.

However.

The large furry thing is nothing but a little puppy around you.

Human Bucky struggles to show his affection for you even though he loves you like crazy. He loves touching you but hesitates to do anything. Wolf Bucky has 0 issue hopping onto the sofa he doesn't fit on, attempting to curl up in your lap. He doesn't fit on your lap either and you end up drowning under a heavy mass of dark fur, the chuff he makes as you adjust himself is equivalent to his usual pouty face.

How dare you try and squirm away when he wants pets and cuddles.

And honestly, he's pretty irresistible. Even Tony's found himself petting the soft fur when he walks by, scrunching his face when he realizes who he's petting and cursing to himself immediately after. It's not just Tony either. Most of the Avengers catch themselves mid pet, occasionally shrugging and going back in while shaking their heads at themselves.

That isn't the only thing wolf Bucky enjoys.

“Bucky!” You stare at your boyfriend who was a human last time you left him, now in his wolf form sitting on top of your duffle bag you'd packed for an upcoming mission. There's no way for you to get to it, sitting as its hidden underneath him and it doesn't look like he has any plans on moving. He growls when you try and get closer, daring for you to try and leave when you just got back from a mission earlier in the week.

"Baby, I have to go, you gotta get off" You try to reason with him but he just stares at you with piercing blue eyes. By now you can read his body language and he's not hearing any of it.

Don't think so, stay with me

"C'mon, you know I'll be back soon" You gently scratch the top of his head and he nuzzles into your palm. He tiled his head to the side widening his gaze as best as he could and you couldn't help but giggle at how cute he looked, silently pleading with you.

"Aww, don't give me those puppy eyes Barnes, that's not fair" You coo while he lets out a whine, huffing and resting his head on his front large paws until his ears perk up with a bright idea.

"For fucks sake Bucky!" You laugh incredulously when he picks up the bag with his teeth, shaking the clothes out and burying himself under them, happy to be surrounded by your scent and finding another way to keep you there.

"What’s going on" Steve walked by the room, wondering why you hadn't come to the jet yet, eyes growing wide when he saw what his best friend was up to "What the hell"

"Oh my god" Sam looked over Steve's shoulder, snorting at the way Bucky was now half asleep while you were still in your tac suit but your bag now nearly torn to bits. You shrugged, deciding to give up, looking at the over grown puppy waiting for a belly rub, giving the two men an apologetic smile.

Bucky snuggled happily on top of your clothes, his nose nudging into your hoodie, before closing his eyes, ears twitching contently while your on the phone with Fury, coming up with a lame excuse as to why you couldn't join.

Some other things I imagine for wolf Bucky:

He's the cutest thing ever. Sam nicknamed him Sirius Black and he loves it.

Loves eating meat. Eats a lot in general.

Fiercely loyal

Likes to go on walks

I'm sorry for this, I have a headache, instead of taking an Advil and sleeping, I'm out here giving into my ridiculousness, I'll see myself out.

[mingsolo]

yeosang x reader (f) / g: crime au, arranged marriage, angst, smut / wc: 6.5k / warnings: guns, blood mentions, descriptions of violence, minor character death, general 'mafia' and crime references, language, sexual content / r: 18+

another fic for another now defunct collab that i decided to write anyways! ps. sorry for the banner, i had a free editor and a dream :')

It's a beautiful Saturday. 

The bushes and trees glow with that yellowish green shade proper to late summer. The sun is warm and it makes everything shine with a golden hue. You glance quickly towards your mother, she really knows how to choose the right date for the right parties.

As you bring your champagne glass closer to your lips, not sipping on it yet, the sight of the handsome man coming down the patio stairs behind your mom grabs your attention. He’s greeting and smiling warmly to everyone who gets closer to congratulate him. 

Kang Yeosang, son of your father’s biggest and longest associate; soon to be one, if not— the most influential name of crime in South Korea.

And now, your husband.

“You can’t deny he knows how to look happy,” the voice of your younger brother interrupts your thoughts as he slides beside you, taking a champagne glass for himself from the waiter's tray as they pass by. “But you still think he is too...” Chan makes a pause reflecting on his words, “Soft?.” 

You remain silent, your upper lip still slightly pressed into your glass. Your eyes don't leave your husband for a moment. Now he’s talking amusedly with your, barely older than you — stepmother, smiling and petting the two pomeranians she refused to leave at home for the wedding. He carries them like babies, smiles at them as your father’s wife shamelessly strokes his shoulder and smiles widely at the act. He puts the little dogs back in the ground and the furry things sprint around his feet as if he was their owner. He laughs heartily at the cute scene and it can be heard through the whole party. His laugh was low but gentle, warm and contagious. 

“He does seem, maybe too nice...” Chan adds, before getting distracted by the giggles of his new girlfriend coming from a few feet away. “Shit.” He says and sprints away to her. You glance over the scene, the barely overage girl drunk as a skunk hovering over one of your cousins. You chuckle as Chan disappears into the main house draggin the girl away from your cousin. Immediately your eyes go back to Yeosang. 

The more you stare at him the more he seems a stranger to the life you were used to living. He acts and looks softer and purer than every man in the room. You can hardly believe he has seen the surface of what this kind of life has to offer. But again, his father was one of the most ruthless men of the country, it was equally hard to believe he hadn't.

Barely a month ago, when your father gave you the ultimatum to marry someone powerful in the city, you had thought of Jeong Yunho first. Yunho, son of the chief of security of the capital, and an agent of the government himself. Both of them are corrupted and dirty even more than your own family, and half the “criminals” they swore to catch everyday. 

Yunho was also your classmate back at law school, your party sidekick and your tennis partner, one with an incredible hit. You both had a long relationship of business and pleasure. Sadly, he was already engaged to the Governor's god-daughter. Everyone knew your family and he had a long history of running dirty business under the table, but marrying? That would be too much for Yunho’s bosses at the government to turn a blind eye to.

So after a short thought, all cards fall back into the Kang family, the only family beside yours with enough influence and power in Seoul. When you were told the son of Boss Kang was back in Korea after spending most of his twenties overseas, you had no chance but to accept he was the one. 

It was a little troublesome, not knowing what to expect from him. But you would find out soon enough, or so you thought. 

You didn’t meet Yeosang until a week before the wedding, at a rushed dinner arranged by both families. 

The first time you laid eyes on him, all you could see was sincerity. He was polite, bright, witty and surprisingly fun. He had deep brown eyes and fine lips. On the left side of his face, he spotted a rather big beauty mark of peculiar shape. Beauty marks of that kind are usually unwanted and something to keep hidden, worse than scars, but the ones on his face framed it gracefully, like a fine accessory.

On him, there was none of the somber demeanor the people who have seen it all in this lifestyle usually had. At one moment he turned to you and smiled, understanding you might be cautious around him, and that confused you. You weren’t used to having emphatic men around you. 

“Here’s to an union that brings out the best for both our families.” He had said with a toast, and for a moment when he smiled softly at you, it seemed like the life you were about to have by his side was a normal, risk free kind of one. 

That was the first time you saw your now husband. This day, the wedding, was the second. 

“Lovely wedding,” a soft voice came from behind you. You recognized it instantly, looking over your shoulder to see the tall frame of Yunho getting closer. “You look so beautiful as a bride”. He raised his glass and both made a silent toast, still looking ahead to the patio. “I heard you are going to Greece for your honeymoon?.” he pouted slightly. “Very romantic.” 

“Now, who told you that?.” your eyes roll at him. You took the chance to glance at the expensive tuxedo he was wearing and how it looked maybe too good on him. It was really a shame you weren’t marrying Yunho instead, that trip to Greece probably wouldn’t have to go to waste.

“Chan did, but you knew that.” He smiled.

You glanced at your brother, who was now dragging his girlfriend back to the party, saying a few curses to your cousin as they passed by him. “Didn’t see you at the ceremony.” you turned to Yunho, who was shamelessly eyeing your cleavage. 

“Oh I just came to the party,” He licks his bottom lip “I couldn’t bear seeing you swore true love to another man, tears are not a good look on me.” 

You scoffed. “Doubt so.” 

He smiled, biting his bottom lip. “So, have you had time to get to know more about him?.” 

The sudden question made you arch your eyebrows. “Well, he is Kang Yeosang, soon leader of the entire Kang clan, owner of half of the dirty business in South Korea, what am I missing?.” 

“I guess there’s nothing else worth knowing?.”

You look back at your now husband, pursing your lips when you find him staring directly at you. He was a few feet away but you could feel his eyes on yours, it was just a second but it sent shivers down your spine. He then immediately turned his attention to his father beside him. 

“You alright?.” Yunho asks, raising his voice lightly as you zoned out for a moment.

You shook your head, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“When are you coming back from Greece?.” Yunho knows better than to try to push an answer out of you.

“Uh, we both need to get back quickly, so a week or so.”

Yunho hummed. “Will you call me when you get back?.” He said sipping on his drink without taking his eyes from you. You shook the sensation from before and chuckled. Men were really like kids. “Please?.” he added with a pout. 

“You got balls huh? You really don’t care, I'm married to a Kang now?.” 

Yunho turned to see Yeosang, now leaning attentively, as his father spoke to him closely. “Not really, should I?.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” you turned to your husband again, not really believing he was entirely harmless. His kind laugh resonated again. Comforting, contagious, and you smiled.

.

.

.

That same night you and your husband flew to Greece. You got there together, to the mansion owned by Yeosang’s father, a house big enough to fit a couple of families without a chance for them to cross paths for a few days. 

Yeosang gave you a brief tour of the mansion and said that every person there was your disposition for everything you needed. The only rule was not to get out to the city alone. He had business to attend to, of course, so after showing you around he left you and told you he would be back late that night.

He never did. So you spent the night getting familiar with the place, didn’t even bother to unpack except for your bathing suit and some toiletries as you knew you would spend all the time at the pool or sunbathing at the private beach, with your body guards close by all the time.

You got mad at first, as you too had matters to attend back home and decided to put them on pause for the trip. If he had stayed at least you could get to know him better, get an idea of who he was as a person, but he didn't show up for the next two days. 

You planned to return back to Seoul alone on a tantrum, but decided to just stay and enjoy the comfort of the mansion and the sea. Whatever the case, you needed a week of relaxation before going back to normal business. Yeosang or not, you knew people in the city and you could go out to the club or something. You had an arsenal of armed bodyguards to feel safe despite what Yeosang had warned you about.

On top of that, the thought of calling Yunho once you were back home ringed in the back of your head, so the wait was worth enduring. 

By the end of the week, after daily sunbathing and catching up with a few books, you decided it was time to have at least a night of real fun. You called a couple of friends, letting them know you were in the city and were in need for a night out. 

The night finally came, only a few minutes past nine.  Your shiniest and shortest dress is waiting for you lying on the bed. Right now in just your silk nightgown you were finishing with your makeup, when a sudden loud blast made you roll the tip of the lip gloss applicator over your cheek. Reflexes abruptly make you take out your revolver from the nightstand, walking slowly to the door paying attention to any noise. 

You glance outside through the glass windows, the garden lights illuminating the roundabout at the entrance of the mansion. There you spot the men guarding the entrance getting in an alert position, running towards the door. 

A couple of loud blasts more and you see two of them dropping on the ground. Quickly you turn the lights off and hide in the back of the room, the moonlight giving you enough vision to see if someone gets inside, your gun closer to your face pointing ahead.

Alerted, you hear steps getting closer. “Mrs. Kang, are you hurt?!”. A voice you couldn’t recognize shouted. Yeosang’s men were still pretty unfamiliar to you and this was definitely not one of your guards. 

You cautiously got closer to the door, gun still ready to shoot. “I’m fine.” you said. The handle of the door twisted as the man outside tried to get it open. “Tell me what is happening.” 

“Someone tried to get into the house, they are probably looking for you or the boss, they got the ones at the entrance.” 

You recalled one of your guards dropping on the ground a few moments back at the roundabout, and you sighed. “How many inside?.”

“A lot ma'am, we need to move quickly, please come out.” you could sense the man’s hurried tone on his voice.

“Where is my husband?.” 

The man got silent for a moment before shouting. “He’s on his way, but right now we need to take you to a safer place, they are probably after you as well.” 

Suddenly your cell phone began vibrating, it was over your bed, so you went to pick it up quickly. It was Yeosang calling. 

“Mrs. Kang?!” the man shouted.

You tapped to answer the call. “Don’t open the door. I’m close.” your husband's voice was calm and clear, you didn’t respond and he hung up.

The man kept calling you as he knocked on the door. Desperation showing with the force and pacing with each knock. You hid inside the back of the room pointing out again. After a few seconds of silence you got startled by the man kicking the door, opening it widely. You pointed at him silently, thinking the dim lights were hiding you and giving you time to have the upper hand.

“Gotcha.”

The man jumped at you, having seen your reflection by the wall mirror against where you were hiding. You shooted and missed, he took the chance to tackle you down. He roughly rolls your body facing the ground, hands at your back, gun point to your head. 

“You should have just opened.” he whispered to your ear, making you grin in disgust. 

“You better let go of me.” you glared at him, as he made you stand up and guided you to the door with so much force your arm was getting numb. 

“Or what?,” he chuckled, pressing the gun to your temple, hurting you. 

“Or I will blow your brains out”. 

Both the man and you looked up, the shape of Yeosang entering the room from the door frame, gun pointed at the latter. Two of his men behind him.

In the background, the shooting had ceased, apparently this man holding you was the last of the ones that had entered the house. 

“There’s none of your friends left here,” Yeosang said, confirming your suspicions. The man tensed against you, now practically choking you by having his arm on your neck. “Let her go. I won’t repeat myself.”

“Fuck you Kang, here’s a little message from-” 

The man’s last words were interrupted by Yeosang shooting his gun to his head, just a couple inches from your own. The loud noise made your ears ring, as the sudden force the man was applying to your neck vanished completely as he dropped dead. Blood and brain matter covered the top of your head. The cheek you had ruined with your lip gloss now covered in red. 

For a moment you groaned in disgust, falling on your knees trying to breathe normally again, soothing your neck from where the dead man was choking you.

“Get up. We need to go.” Yeosang gave you his hand and helped you up. The blood dripping down your neck made you nauseous and you couldn’t hold it any more. The last thing you saw before fainting was Yeosang’s eyes on yours, your name sounding muffled as you closed your eyes on him. 

.

.

.

When you woke up, you couldn’t recognize the room you were in. It was almost the same as the room you were in before. Big glass windows that reached the ceiling, greek decor and furniture. The light coming through the white curtains blinded you for a moment. When your eyes adjust to the sunlight, you look out, the Greece sea reflecting the sun rays back at it. 

Your head was spinning. Instinctively you caressed your neck. Carefully you got up towards the big vanity mirror placed in front of the bed you were laying on. No trace of blood or the rest of that ashole’s brain over you, yet remembering how it felt made you nauseous again. A few faded yellow and purple bruises painted on your neck. 

“You should go and take a proper shower.” 

Yeosang’s voice came from the door frame, where he was leaning on. He walked slowly inside the room, passing you by and looking outside through the window glass.

“Who cleaned me?.” was the first thing you asked.

“The maids.” He said calmly. “How are you feeling?.”

“My head is killing me. And now I have these ugly bruises all over my neck, definitely not the good kind.” 

Yeosang hummed, arching his eyebrows slightly. “How many times have you been in that kind of situation?.”

“A few.”

He remained silent, looking at you as you poured water into a tall glass. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, getting closer. “One of your guys from Korea told them where we were, I should have been there.” 

“What?.” 

“Jung Taein?.”

“Jung? No fucking way.” you chuckled bitterly.

“It’s my fault. You alone at the house made you an easy target.” He said ashamed, looking away. “It won’t happen again.” 

“Do you know who sent them?.” 

“Yes.”

“Would you take care of that?.”

“It’s done.” 

“Alright.” you added, finishing the water. 

“Let me know when you are ready. We are flying back to Seoul as soon as you are.” 

With that, Yeosang left the room, leaving you for the time being. 

The flight back was a silent one. Yeosang spent the whole time on the phone -yours was turned off. That was for the better. Your parents must be calling you non stop all morning. You took the chance to sleep more, since you were still a little shaken by the attack. 

As soon as you put foot at home, the whole day was turbulent. Both your mother and Chan were already waiting for you in the living room of your new mansion. They asked all kinds of questions again and again, making you dizzy. They both questioned Yeosang as well, making him swear that the guy who had planned the attack was more than dead. 

Your father showed up later that evening, and the whole thing repeated itself. He spent most of the time in Yeosang’s office, briefly asking if you were okay when he arrived. When he was ready to leave he stroked your head saying “The pig is dead, your husband took care of that himself.”

That night, laying alone in your new bed, feeling cold and anxious more than ever, you replayed the scene in your head over and over. 

“These mercenaries and their speeches, always thinking of themselves as movie villains.” Your father had said to you once when you were little. “Once they start talking, you have to shoot them.” 

As you remembered this, you felt like smiling. 

The next morning you got downstairs to have breakfast, surprisingly finding Yeosang at the table.

“Good morning.” He greets.

“Morning, oh what do we have here?.” you yawn, siting and finding a plate of pancakes and fresh fruit already served.

“You need energy.” 

“Mmh,” you giggle cutely, catching a glimpse of Yeosang's smile. He notices you noticed the gesture and he quickly goes back to his breakfast. “How are you feeling?. ' he adds, eyeing his plate.

“Way better.” you said, shoving a big piece of pancake on your mouth, “I need to get ready to go to my office.” 

Yoesang clears his throat, pensive. “I think you should lay low for a while.” 

“Isn’t the guy that attacked me dead now?.” you asked, stuffing a strawberry on your mouth as one of the maids poured orange juice on a tall glass for you.

“Yes.” Yeosang pressed his back against his chair. “But there’s other guys.” 

“What about you? Are you going to stay home as well?” your voice sounds annoyed but you don’t care. Yeosang looks briefly at you and then away. “So what should I do then? Stay hidden for the rest of the year here?.” 

“Just a few weeks, until we are sure no one else is onto us anymore.” He said standing up.

“You know, there will always be someone “onto us”.” you huff, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Let me know if you need something.” he said, giving you a nod and walking away.

“Seems like it's going to be you and me, girls.” you said to the two maids when he disappeared from the room. The women gave you a polite smile and you sigh.

That morning was the last time you saw him in almost four weeks.

Handling work stuff from the house was mad boring, and you started to feel claustrophobic. Rounded by security, you only had visits from your mom and Chan, sometimes your father or your new in-laws. The house was full of people all the time yet you felt completely alone in it. Suddenly you missed your office, your old apartment, your friends, anything but that strange house who you could barely call yours. 

But oddly and mostly, you were desperate to get laid. It was a bothersome sensation inside you, not being able to release the stress from everything that had happened within the last month from being recently married to a stranger to almost being killed on your supposed honeymoon.

So you did what you planned to do in the first place as soon as you were back, the only thing that would make you release the stress and clear your mind. 

Yunho called first, a few days after you arrived back at Seoul. The conversation was brief but he let you know he was available for whenever you wanted to see him. A month ago it seemed too recent to meet with him, but now it felt just about right. 

Finally tonight, after having spent a full month trapped inside your house, you and your friend decide to meet up.

Both knew you needed to be cautious; you are a recently married woman —and he, an engaged man. 

You decided to meet up downtown. You had an apartment there in one of the biggest hotels at the center of a prestigious but quiet district. You used it mostly to crash on when you partied regularly, so it was a familiar place to your guards. Yunho let you know he already booked one of the suits for the night, so he could just knock on your door without any trouble. 

Yeosang hadn’t called for a few nights, apparently he was attending some business in Tokyo with both your father and his. It was the perfect timing.

The night arrived and you finally went out. As you got ready in front of the mirror in the bedroom, anticipation started to build as you waited for Yunho.

You changed into a casual dress, and your favorite jewelry; a long pearl necklace that ended up in the right place at your cleavage. Hair styled in a messy bun, the best hairstyle to try when you knew it was going to end up disheveled — a trick you learned from your mother’s long sessions in front of the mirror when you were maybe too young to even understand the tip. 

You sprayed your favorite perfume on the right spots and poured a few drinks, preparing yourself to loosen up to finally enjoy a good night since you married, even if it wasn’t with your own husband. 

Midnight, and Yunho hadn’t shown up. You started to get annoyed. Sending him a couple of texts like; ‘Where the fuck are you?.’ and ‘Are you serious right now?.’ 

You were growing impatient, desperate. He had said late night but this was just too much. And why wasn’t he answering your texts?. 

You blew raspberries, lying back on the bed. Incorporating a little, you saw yourself in the tall mirror at the corner of the room. Your backless dress, makeup… you looked so good and now it was going to get to waste.

It was ridiculous that with all the power, money, a damn husband and a friend like Yunho, you were really struggling this much to get laid. 

Being almost killed —again, having your family on your neck all the time, the pressure of the business and people — had to deal with, and an absent husband you barely knew on top of that was starting to get to you for good.

Grabbing your phone ready to call Yunho, something you would never do being in your right senses, you hear a knock on your door. 

You sit on the bed automatically, fixing the wrinkles of your dress. “Fucking finally.” 

Walking towards the door, you looked through the peephole, immediately taking a few steps back. The man at the door wasn’t Yunho.

“What is he doing here?,” you muttered to yourself. 

“Are you going to open?.” Yeosang’s voice coming from outside made you come to your senses, he sounded different from the other times you two had spoken. Hesitating, you opened the door. His hair was down and parted in the middle, wavy strands falling at the sides of his ears. He was dressed casually, not in the usual business attire you have seen him in so far. 

Yeosang walked in, closing the door behind him. You looked nervously around, feeling suddenly exposed by your little outfit, and he seemingly read your mind, as he took his sweet time looking at your clothes, or the lack of them.

“What are you doing here?.” you ask, trying to sound casual. Suddenly the thought of Yunho knocking on the door any moment made your stomach turn upside down. “Weren’t you in Tokyo?.”

“I remember telling you no to go out yet, so the question is what are you doing here?.” 

You shrugged, feeling his gaze all over you. “I- was, going out…”

“If you wanted to fuck, you just had to ask,” he looked at you with a dark shine on his eyes. “I never told you you were allowed to be playing whore with other men, did I?”.

Your chest started to thump. This wasn’t the Yeosang you have known so far. He spoke harshly, but with a slight hurt pride that confused you.

“The fuck that’s supposed to mean?.” you glared back at him. “You haven’t talked to me properly since we married, you don’t even sleep at home.” you said, mimicking quoting the last word with your fingers. He glared at you too, walking towards you and hovering you against the wall. “Seriously, you won't even allow me one normal dinner and you think you have the right to tell me what to do?.” 

“I'm your husband.” he said dryly, “That should be enough.”

“A husband who hasn’t even fucked his wife once.” 

Yeosang scoffed. He looked at you with big eyes, deep brown eyes that shone differently from back when you saw them at the wedding. You were tense, that wasn’t what you wanted to reproach him for, but your brain was letting the words come out from your mouth without a second thought. “Were you waiting for that Jeong bastard to come here and fuck you? Are you that desperate?.” 

“Yes. Maybe I fucking am.” 

Just then, Yeosang tugged your chin with his hand, brushing the hem of your skirt with his fingers, slowly getting them underneath. His breath was hot and it burned against your neck. He leaned forward, brushing your throat with his lips, and then the tip of his tongue. 

“Well look at you, being all eager.” He whispered with a voice so dark you couldn’t recognize it belonged to him. 

His hand was now fully under your skirt, and his thumb brushed softly where you needed him the most. Your hips start rolling towards the contact, desperate for more friction. You pressed your lips together, restraining yourself from giving in so easily, but the truth was that you needed to be touched. Yeosang rolled his thumb over your damped spot, his gaze got cloudy, tongue resting on his bottom lip as he rubbed in circles on your clothed clit. He slides the lacy fabric to the side, gently pressing two fingers inside you. 

You let out a whimper, biting your bottom lip. Surprised at how he knows exactly how to curl his fingers upward, his fingers caress your center so sweetly, feeling as familiar as your own.

“You feel just like I imagined.” He brushes his words over your lips, kissing you softly. His tongue finally lands against yours, sending tingles all the way to your lower stomach. 

“You imagined?.” you moan against his mouth, and he slowly wraps his hand on your neck, making just the right pressure to make your closed eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Mmhh.” his voice vibrates over your lips, while he kisses you roughly and sloppily. He’s now adding a third finger deep inside you. You throw your arms at his neck and lift your leg onto his hip to give him more access. He grabs your leg with the hand that isn’t inside you, and continues fingering you with faster pace without stopping kissing you.

“Oh my god…” you cry when he begins scissoring and curling his fingers inside you. You let out a loud moan knowing you are done for and he stops kissing to see you as you come. His fingers keep going, gaze fixated on you as you shut your eyes and roll your hips making his fingers touch you even deeper. “Fuck, oh fuck!.” you whimper when he doesn’t stop and you start squirting all over his fingers. He looks down cheekily, seeing how you coat his fingers with your arousal.

Yeosang smiles, removing his fingers from inside you and making you open your mouth so you can taste yourself on them, when you finish he goes back to your lips, kissing you again. “So sweet.” he whispers, lowering your leg and helping you walk to the bed. 

He makes you lay on your back, taking your panties off and throwing them aside. He lifts the skirt of your dress and places himself between your legs. “Let me taste more of that.” He says, licking your entrance with one strip, as he starts devouring you entirely until there’s no trace of your release but the sweet sensation inside you.

“Fuck, Yeosang.” you moan, feeling the familiar knot yet again. He keeps sucking on you, your hand tugging his hair from the overstimulation. 

“Are you going to come again?.” 

“Yes!.” you cry, but whine immediately after when he stops eating you up. 

“Not like that.” He helps you get up, walking backwards as he sits on the armless chair next to your vanity, taking his belt off and opening the zipper on his jeans. He helps you sit on his lap, always looking at you as he does. Your heavy lids fall on him, admiring just how beautiful he is, and you wonder for a second if you have had a man like that before him. 

Your mind is still foggy, you feel breathless but you indulge in his instructions, glad he’s telling you what to do next. 

Yeosang guides you on top of him, and you observe patiently how he takes out his length and strokes himself a few times, making sure you look. He then tugs your dress down to expose your tits. He licks his bottom lip and goes to kiss one of them sweetly, one hand stroking himself and the other squeezing and licking your nips. You hear his quiet moans and whimpers, giving each of your breasts delicate attention. When he’s had enough, he aligns you on him and slowly pushes you until he has bottomed inside you.

“You really needed this huh?,” He chuckles darkly. “Such a tiny cunt.”

You whine at first, feeling stretched so deliciously for the first time in so long. You lean and kiss him, both your tongues tasting and savoring each other. The pearls of your necklace hang over his chest, the silver of your rings shine between his hair as you dishevel it. Yeosang squeeze and massage your nips with his palm as you take the time adjusting to his length inside you.

He stops kissing your nipple and signals you to look to the side, where you find both your reflections in the big mirror of your vanity, seeing your almost naked form sitting on his lap makes the sensation on your lower abdomen intensify. Yeosang slips your dress over your head, and you remove his jacket and unbutton his shirt hastily. 

“Show me,” his tone is low, hoarse. He cups your chin with force, so you are now looking straight at him. You flutter your eyelashes confused. “What were you planning to do with him?.” he asks, heavy lids eying your bottom lip. 

You bit your lip with force, somehow embarrassed that you already forgot you were supposed to be on top of Yunho. Yeosang smirks slightly, and even if the lights in the room are dim you catch that smile and it drives you mad how confident he is, but also makes you eager to show him. 

“Yeosang, please” you whisper breathlessly, kissing him again. A big open kiss on the mouth first, then going down to his neck, his shoulder blades. You were marking every inch of skin your lips could reach in your position. It felt as if he could suddenly evaporate if you didn’t. 

You start rolling your hips back and forth on top of him, moaning everytime the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot. Yeosang had both hands on your waist, keeping you in place as you rocked your hips at a slow but steady pace, not wanting to come too fast and just enjoy the sensation of having him buried deep inside you.

Yeosang’s whimpers quietly, but intensely. He lets a dry chuckle every time you remove yourself almost completely from him only to go down in one motion over and over. Your hands are on his hair, pulling the strands everytime the pleasure was too much.

He grabs your face and kisses you, biting your bottom lip and coating your entire mouth with his tongue, desperate to fill you connected to him in every way. He groans when you bite back, enjoying every little cry and whimper you let out. “All of this for him?,” he tugs your hair making you face him. 

“Right now I’m fucking you and you only.” you tell him, eyes falling down on you unable to keep them open. “You fill me up so well.”

Yeosang smiled cockily, going to your clit and rubbing his thumb in circles again, making you bury your head on his neck. “Like that? Is that what you wanted?.” 

“Yes!” you cried out loud, not caring at all if the guards outside could hear. His thumb and cock both send incredible sensations through your body, your release building up again ready to break out at any second. “Don’t stop please, I’m gonna-” 

You couldn't finish, feeling the knot in your lower abdomen explode inside you. Yeosang was quick to grab your hips so you stayed in place, and he helped you rock them faster, chasing his own. He looked at your reflection in the mirror. Head thrown back, nails digging on his shoulders, eyes closed and mouth full of whimpers and heavy breathing. You came and Yeosang followed right behind you, letting out the loudest moan since you started. His hands were now on your ass as you wrapped your arms around his neck, having come from your high. He bit your shoulder as he painted your walls with his load. Yeosang cursed under his breath, finally stopping until he finished inside you. 

“Yeosang,” you phanted, caressing his face and making him look at you. His eyelids were heavy, long strands of wavy black hair falling on his face, lips half open trying to catch his breath. “I needed that, fuck.” You waited until he was breathing regularly and kissed him roughly again, taking his breath away once more. 

Yeosang smiled widely and you recognized the sweet man that you married a month ago. The same soft and cute eye smile and seemingly innocent aura came back, transforming from the one that was guiding your hips as you rode him to oblivion mere seconds before.

“I've wanted to have you on top of me since I saw you at the dinner,” He said sweetly, brushing his nose against yours. “Wanted to have you cry my name and brush away that condescending look you gave me at the wedding.” 

You chuckled. “I didn’t know what to expect from you,” you paused, choosing your words carefully. “You seemed too nice for this kind of life, too pure.” 

Yeosang chuckled lightly, helping you stand up, finally removing himself from you. “Seemed?” He kissed your chin gently. “Not anymore?.” 

“Someone who fucks like this?, no way.” 

He lets out a loud laugh, hand covering his mouth. “Y/n, you should know no man is pure. Crime life or not.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

You stood up from his lap, looking around for your panties on the floor, but Yeosang pulled you against him, wrapping his hands on your waist, hiding his face in the space between your shoulders and neck. He kissed the skin there and you hummed, content and relaxed feeling the warmth of his lips. 

He guided you to the bed, laying beside you and leaning over you. 

“Why didn't you want to spend time with me until now?.” you asked, his big eyes shone brightly. “I thought you were avoiding me on purpose, no one is that busy.” 

Yeosang laughed. “Oh but I am. And soon you will be too, as my wife and associate, you will have to deal with a lot.” He lowered his eyes for a second. “I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to you, I wanted to, but after what happened in Greece I needed to make sure you were always protected.” 

“Did my father intervene?”

“I almost let his only daughter get killed mere days after our wedding, how does that make me look in front of him, of everyone?.”

You hummed but remained silent. You knew your father had already told him everything he needed to hear. “So I’ve been under surveillance all this time?.” You arch your brows, realizing that’s how he knew about your meeting with Yunho tonight. “Shit! Yunho… is he…?.” 

Yeosang chuckled again and this time it was an amused one. “He’s not dead, I still need eyes and ears close to the police,” His lips turned upwards into a mischievous smile. “But he won’t dare to come close to you with certain intentions, ever again.”

“Oh.” you said, pouting. “But he’s an excellent tennis partner though.” 

“I can be your new tennis partner, I can be everything you need me to be.” 

Yeosang kissed you softly, thumb caressing your ear. Your hands traveled over his chest, throwing a leg over his waist and you smiled on the kiss. He let out a soft “Oh” like a shy boy getting his first kiss and it made your heart incredibly warm.

“Who would thought we only needed to fuck each other dumb to break the ice huh?”. You joked, letting him keep kissing your neck and start all over again.

.

.

.

©mingsolo / please do not edit, repost, translate

[silentcutekitten]

Finally, it's time for some original Silent art! If you have a Scarecrow design, here's a fun little idea you can do:

Draw them in the style of a little kid's drawing, like this! It's just a little girl and her friend Spooky, nothing out of the ordinary :) (yes, "Spooky" is my Scarecrow)

Feel free to reblog this or tag me with your own Scarecrow drawings in this childish style, I'd love to see them! I don't know what to call this, uh...

Yeah

I'm going to be shifting back towards art of my OCs and designs again, since I find a lot of joy in drawing them :)

[blooberrries]

『monday misery』 — yuji

— pairing: yuji x reader — genre: college/university au, slight crack — wc: 1.7k — rated: sfw — notes: when inspiration strikes you gotta follow it ya know. this cracked me up more than it probably should have

prompt: I don't know why you've got a ferret on a leash but at least I've stopped crying on public transportation to watch that lil guy go

The tears are still damp on your cheeks, another set budding and ready to go, when you see it. Something small, something wriggly, something wormy.

Something that has absolutely no business being on the 8AM train into the city central.

Just moments ago it felt like the world could come to a crumbling end around you, and you’d embrace it all while sitting there and doing nothing but emptying your tear ducts of every single drop of moisture they could spare. You literally could not imagine a single event that would have stopped your exhaustion and assignment deadline-fueled weeping. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you just kept on crying, forever. The future was bleak and not set to look up anytime soon with an 8.30AM lecture looming on the horizon.

But this… this is a variable you never could have predicted.

The sheer lunacy of it has stopped your tears in their tracks, and now you’re watching the poor guy sitting across from you like he’s an animal in a zoo. He has noticed, and it has made him sweat. A large hand comes to scratch the back of his neck, fingers ruffling the two-toned hair. The cherry-blossom mop atop his head really only adds to the comedy of what you’re witnessing.

Something is worming around under this man’s clothes. Which, you have to admit, does sound like a poor excuse to be drilling holes into him right now with your eyes – but that’s not it! You saw something poke out earlier. Something furry, with beady eyes and such rapid twitching head movements you’d swear the thing was on crack.

It’s a fucking ferret.

The worst part is, no one else around you has even noticed! Or maybe they don’t care. Truthfully, they seem to be giving this guy a wide berth— and you for that matter, being across from him and all that. Or maybe it was the silent weeping and looking out the window like you’re in your own early 2000s music video. There’s no way to know.

To his credit, cherry guy looks embarrassed. Good. You don’t want him thinking it’s anything normal to tote around a ferret in the quiet carriage, like some noodle-shaped teacup dog. The only way he could get away with it is if he at least had one of those exorbitant handbags he was keeping it in. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like any vessel on this green earth, luxury or otherwise, could keep this tiny demon contained.

Your eyes burn in the aftermath of your sleep deprivation and crying spell as you watch the man try and push the ferret’s head back into hiding, and the little mongrel, without even a split-second of hesitation, chomps down on the closest finger. Cherry guy whimpers, eyes slipping closed in something akin to defeat and resignation.

At this point you’re beginning to feel that he didn’t bring the ferret, but instead the ferret brought him.

A few minutes is what it takes for cherry guy to gather the strewn shreds of his pride. When he opens his eyes next, their chocolate hues meet your own. He leans forward a little, as much as he can without the hell noodle slipping loose from his cotton prison, and whispers ever so softly across the space.

“His name is Mahito.”

You frown, and can physically feel your eyebrows scrunching together like it was a crime they had ever been apart. “What, like the drink?”

Apparently you hadn’t asked that as quietly as you’d thought, because you get shushed by someone three seats down right after. Wait– three seats? There’s no way they’ve all moved even further away.

Cherry guy looks like he is seriously contemplating the question, and you wonder if the ferret is even his or just some poor animal he snatched off the streets. “… No. Probably… not.”

You stare at him, sniffling. Your face is almost entirely dry now, skin feeling tight instead of damp. “Uh-huh.”

Steadily, the man’s face begins to flush as mortification warms his sun-kissed skin. Silence beats painfully on between you. Eventually, you break it.

“So, uh. You do this often? Carry around a ferret in your shirt?”

The flush spreads to cherry guy’s ears. “Um, no. That would be weird.”

You incline your head, lips pressed firmly together so you don’t let a laugh slip and make him feel worse. “Indeed.”

“He’s not mine,” he blurts suddenly, and like the ferret has a flourishing vocabulary and outstanding comprehension of the human language, he rips out of the bottom of cherry guy’s shirt and sinks his teeth into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger in retribution. You wince, and the poor man has to cram his fist to his mouth at the speed of light to muffle the slew of profanity that begins to escape.

A few moments full of deep, meditative breathing later, he lowers his fist and scowls at the ferret that is only now removing his jaw from the tender flesh of his hand. He hisses lowly, shaking out his hand. “You little rat bastard. Just you wait till we get home and Sukuna finds out you snuck into my backpack again. You’re gonna get sent to macaroni prison for sure.”

You raise your brows. Ah, so that’s what must have happened. That actually explains a lot. You can’t help your smile now. “What a darling little angel.”

Cherry guy’s head snaps up to shoot you an incredulous– nay, borderline affronted look. “He’s awful, truly. Actual hellspawn. I have to buy a new gaming headset every other week because the little monster chews through the cords so often. I tried keeping my door locked while I was out but the little bastard just turns his body to liquid or something and worms his way under.”

A strangled sound escapes you when you barely manage to lock down your laugh in time. Cherry guy continues, apparently needing to vent about the foot-long menace more than he’d anticipated.

“My brother actually already replaced his door with one that doesn’t have a big gap at the bottom, but he keeps refusing to do it for mine every time I ask because he thinks it’s funny that his little agent of rat chaos eats through half my stuff on the daily.” He huffs, glaring at the wriggling noodle that he has now trapped in his hold. An older woman gives a very strongly disapproving look from four seats down before returning to her killer sudoku. “I have not known peace since he has entered the house.”

You wince, feeling a little sympathetic. “Damn. How long has your brother had him?”

You expect it to be an awful long time, based on how burdened this man seems to be by the mere existence of this ferret. His answer makes you physically bite down your reaction, your entire body tensing from the effort.

“Uh, a month or two.”

Yikes. You’re scared to think of what the rodent might do once he’s actually settled in.

Silence settles between the two of you once more, broken the chime of the conductor’s voice echoing over the speakers as you come one stop closer to the city. A few people disembark, including the lady that gave the stink eye earlier. She does it again as she steps off, and cherry guy shrinks into his seat. The doors close, and once more silence falls, though more comfortable than the first time.

A while later, the man shifts, a complete contradiction to the tornado of movement that the creature in his hand is doing. The noises escaping the little thing are hard to ignore, and even harder to keep a straight face at.

“What, uh… what were you crying about?”

You blink at him as your gaze returns from the window. You’d actually forgotten you were crying earlier, which is pretty funny considering at the time you were acting like the world was about to end for a solid fifteen minutes at least.

“Oh,” you say. It’s your turn to flush a bit in embarrassment. “Uni assignment, due today. There was a spillage and, um, that doesn’t tend to bode well for artwork on paper.”

Cherry guy winces. “My condolences.”

You nod, allowing a moment of silence for the work of art your assignment could have been, before speaking again. “Thanks… and, well, that’s one good deed your little hellspawn has done. Seeing him wriggling around under there like he was about to burst from your chest definitely distracted me from my existential crisis.”

Cherry guy hums, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Okay. I guess I’ll put in a good word for him when we get home.”

You smile, whatever you were about to say next interrupted by the chime of the conductor announcing your next stop to be the destination you need to get to campus. Out of habit, you gather your things and stand, before pausing and turning your gaze to the pink-haired man still seated and wrangling a chaos being with the viscosity of YouTube slime. After having another look at him, it’s clear he’s a fellow university student. You’re guessing he was on his way to his classes when he discovered the stowaway in his bag. No doubt he now has to head back home and drop the ferret off before doubling back for his own classes.

You have a lecture at 8.30AM, but to be honest… you don’t want to spend the rest of the day miserable and mourning your assignment from the get-go. Talking with this random guy about his ratchet ferret has completely cancelled out your earlier feelings of angst, and it’s… nice. You kind of want to return the favour and help distract him from his misery.

The doors begin to shut, and the pink-haired man looks up in alarm as he notices you’re still here. “Wait, won’t you–“

“Yeah,” you say, swivelling on the spot and plopping down right next to him. You turn your head with a smile. “But that’s okay. Gotta look after my mental health and all, you know?”

He blinks at you for a second, before a warm smile breaks onto his face. He’s handsome, you notice from this close up. Almost painfully so.

“Yuji,” he says, by way of introduction. You return with your own name, and he beams wider. “Wanna hear about the time Mahito got into a fight with my brother’s other ferret Jogo?”

“Absolutely.”

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 10 - The Afterglow)

6.1K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Din stays the weekend.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Smut with fluff, next day aftercare, kissing, bathing, oral (f receiving), boob slapping, unprotected PiV, slight daddy kink, slight degradation kink (discussed, Din is a respectful king), tons of pet names as usual (sweetheart, baby, pretty bird, babygirl, etc.)

A/N: This is actually a bonus chapter in that it was not in the original outline; I dunno - just really wanted to see what the day after their first time looked like 🥰 I felt a bit self conscious about the last chapter but I quite like this one! Also - even though reader calls Din "old man", there is no implied age gap. I call my husband an old man all the time and he's only 2.5 months older than me (he just acts like such a freakin' old man sometimes 😂😂)

Series Masterlist

You wake the next morning when the bed jostles lightly; opening your sleepy eyes, you blurrily make out Din getting out of bed.  Taking a moment to admire the powerful muscles that lay dormant across the expanse of his back, for the first time you have the chance to see that Din has a tattoo beneath his left shoulder blade.  You study it for a moment, it looks to be some sort of animal skull with a narrow head and tusks; making a note to ask Din about it later, you yawn, “Good morning.”

Din turns and smiles, crawling back onto the bed he leans in to give you a soft kiss, “Good morning, pretty bird.  Sorry, was trying not to wake you.”

“I’m a light sleeper, don’t worry,” you grin lazily, still in a half-dreamy stupor from the evening before, “Are you sneaking out on me, Djarin?”

Din throws his arm over you, pinning you beneath the covers and wiggles his bear paw of a hand under you to start tickling; you shriek with laughter, trying to squirm away.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, sweetheart,” Din chuckles at your feeble attempts to escape; he stops poking and uses his hand underneath to pull you in close, kissing you with tenderness.  Before the kiss can deepen, you’re both made aware of panting breaths coming from next to the bed.  Turning, you smile wide at Al who was lured into the bedroom by the loud sounds of laughter and is now waiting patiently, tail wagging, to be included.

Reaching over you to rub Al’s head, Din kisses your forehead, “Baby, was going to take Al for a walk and pick up some breakfast.”

“I can come,” you start to say, before a yawn over takes you.

“Sweetheart, you rest.  I’ll be back soon.  Need you to be fully recovered from last night, so you can refuel… and be ready to fall apart on my cock again,” you can feel his smirk against your lips as he kisses you eagerly, conveying that he’s not yet had his fill of you.  Your moan is involuntary; extricating your arms from your sheets, you wrap your arms around Din’s neck and pull him in with renewed hunger.

“Pretty bird, I should go,” Din mumbles, making no effort remove himself from your embrace.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum, more than your wakefulness starting to stir.

*Bark*

Oops.  With difficulty, Din pushes himself off of you to give Al his full attention, two hands rubbing all over his furry head and ears.

When he’s left you to snuggle back under your covers, you call out, “Keys and leash are on the foyer table.  There are spare toothbrushes in the guest room bathroom next to the kitchen,” before closing your eyes and letting your sleepy, arousal muddled brain take over your body.

With Al trotting by his side, Din looks back to see you already snoozing peacefully, so serene and beautiful with your hair fanned out on your fluffy pillows, and he looks down at Al to whisper, “Aren’t we lucky?” before heading out.

---

The remainder of Saturday passes comfortably and lazily. 

Din comes back with breakfast sandwiches to find you making coffee.  In truth, you are a little sore, and not just in your core where you expected; you silently curse yourself for all the times you dismissed Pilates as “a fad” when you feel the strain in your hips and your upper thigh crease.  Though you try to hide it from Din because you know he’ll feel bad, he’s an ex-boxer trained to look for weakness in his opponent, and he picks up on your little winces as you bring over the steaming mugs to your breakfast table on the balcony. 

Immediately he rushes to your side, “Pretty bird, I hurt you,” eyes worried.

“No, no, I’m okay – I’ve been neglecting my yoga,” you joke, but make sure to kiss him affectionately and reassuringly nuzzle his jaw to show Din there isn’t anything to be concerned about.

Far from being placated, Din insists that he run you a bath after breakfast so you can soak and relax; you don’t argue, but make him promise to join you.

Honestly, you love baths, and given the time, you’ll soak in one for hours with a glass or two of wine; you’re sure today’s bath will be relaxing in a totally different way.  Filling the hot water with more salts and bubbles than usual, you lie in the water with your eyes closed, letting your aching muscles melt until you’re toasty and pliable all over for when Din joins you.  When he comes in, you sit up and cross your arms over the side of the tub, resting your chin on your arms as you watch Din undress, trying not to stare.  His naked physique in the daytime is somehow even more impressive than it was last night.  He towers over you, a mountain of a man, impossibly broad – he isn’t chiseled or as cut as he probably used to be, but his body is still muscular and a force to be reckoned with.  You can’t believe you were able to house all of that between your legs last night; no wonder you’re sore.  Once again, your eyes spot the litany of scars and marks from previous fights (in the ring and out, you’re sure); you beckon Din to come closer with your hand and when he’s within reach, you trace your fingers from scar to scar, drawing a connect the dots picture with the water droplet trail your fingers leave behind.  You look up at Din, eyes full of worry for wounds that have long since hurt, but still pain your heart nonetheless.  Din cups your chin with his hand and says softly, “Should have seen the other guys, pretty bird.”

Your fingers continue their trail down below his belly button, eyes hungry.  Even soft, Din’s cock is impressive; thick and girthy, your mouth waters slightly as your hand wraps around – an easier feat than yesterday when it was hard and throbbing in your mouth.  You’re not sure how long you stay lightly working Din’s length, proverbially and literally drooling, but when Din’s semi hardening cock jumps in your hand, you’re startled out of your daze; Din chuckles and tells you to scoot forward, he’s coming in.

You wanted to sit behind him and help wash him, but that would have defeated the purpose of giving your hips and pelvis a break, so instead, after Din slides into the tub, you sit between his legs on your knees and face him to wash his hair and his body with a little pouf. 

Din is in hell.  You’re once again sitting pretty on your knees for him, this time naked, wet and soapy; his hands are holding you gently by your waist and even there you’re supple and inviting.  He wants you to relax and recover, so he’s vowed not to fuck you until later, but he’s having to tap into years of trained self discipline in order to not sink himself into you right in this tub.  He forces himself to look away from your perky, sudsy breasts, and instead watches your face as you focus on washing him with an adorable look of concentration. 

He thinks he might actually die when you lean over him, pressing your chest into his shoulder and clavicle so you can reach and scrub his back.  All he has to do is tilt his head to the side and down a little and he would be able to bite and suck on that tantalizing flesh; luckily, you save him from himself, “Din?”

“Yes, pretty bird?” hoping you don’t detect the strain in his voice.

“What’s this tattoo?” your fingers tracing the Mythosaur skull; the more you look at the tattoo, the more fearsome it looks.

“Oh,” Din laughs, “…that’s the Mando insignia… we all have it tattooed.”

“Like how the actors from the Fellowship have the 9 tattoo?  Or all of BTS has 7?” you tease.

“Yes,” Din rolls his eyes, kissing and then lightly biting down on your shoulder, “exactly like that… nerd.”

Sitting back on your heels, you straighten your arms, pressing them close to your sides so your boobs are pushed up; you’re not entirely unaware of the effect your nakedness has been having on Din, his growing arousal evident even through the bubble foam.  If he wants to be teasing, you can too.  Pushing out your lower lip for effect, you pout, “Alright cool guy, how come that particular design for the Mandos?”

Din’s eyes are about to pop out of their sockets and his ears tinge pink, “Some of the Mandos went through a D&D phase… Woves found it in a book about fantasy monsters and creatures when we were kids; it’s supposed to be a Mythosaur, like a giant dinosaur, dragon with tusks.  It seemed pretty badass when we were 8.”

You giggle, god he’s so cute.  “It is badass… nerd,” you smile, kissing him lightly once, twice, then a third time in succession.  Turning so you’re facing away from him, you sit between Din’s legs and lay on his chest, “I like it.”

“Thanks, pretty girl.  Sorry I called you a nerd.”

Nuzzling in to his chest, you say light heartedly, “Don’t be sorry.  I am a nerd, and it’s a very cool thing.”

“Very true.  Also, I don’t even know what the second thing you said was,” Din admits.

“Omigod, old man, BTS?!?” you turn up to look at his face, disbelieving.

Little tease.  Din can’t hold back his hands any longer, “Old man?  You’ll pay for that, sweetheart.” Still wanting to leave the lower half of your body alone, he reaches out of the water to give your breasts that are resting above the waterline two playful slaps.

The first slap has you yelping in surprise, but the second has you moaning from the light, but pleasurable sting.  Right away, you feel a wetness between your legs that has nothing to do with the bathwater.

“Oh, does my dirty little slut like that?”

“Mmmhmmm, yes, please, Din.”

Din reaches up and palms your breasts, one in each large hand, covering them completely and groping them rougher than he would normally.

“…daddy,” you sigh.

“Tell daddy what you want, pretty girl.”

“Fuck.. Din.  Want… w-wan… want you to pull on them.”

Fingers rolling your nipples before pinching them gently, Din gives them both a little tug, much to your delight. 

“Ahhhhhh… oh yes, daddy, just like that,” you moan, melting back against him, feeling his hardness pressed against your back.

“Didn’t know my good girl could moan like a whore,” Din whispers hotly in your ear before pulling on your nipples a little harder and releasing them, letting your tits bounce before slapping them like before.

“Holy fu---, oh daddy, that feels so good, love it when you play with my boobs... ohhhhh yessss.”

Din starts sucking on your neck and dips a hand below the water, reaching for your pussy. He swipes two fingers against your slit to find your slick already coating you, “Sweetheart, this for me?”

“Oh god, Din, yes, all for you… please, please need you to fuck me.”

Din stills his hands and returns them to a more innocent position, wrapped around your waist, “Oh pretty girl, we can’t.  You’re still sore.”

You roll in his arms so to face him to plead your case, “Please, daddy.  You take such good care of me, I’m all better.  Want you.”

“Baby –,“ it’s not fair that he has to somehow say no to these big doe eyes you’re giving him, “don’t want to hurt you.”

Crawling up his body, you tuck yourself under Din’s chin and press kisses to his pulse point, “You won’t, daddy.  You only make me feel so good.  Do you need your little slut to beg for it? Please, please, Din.  I need you so bad.”

Fuck. “Let’s get out of the tub, pretty bird.”

Giddy at having gotten your way, you’re practically bouncing as you and Din towel off, and when Din guides you to the bed by the small of your back, gently pushing you up onto the middle of the bed.

“I’m not going to fuck you, sweetheart.”

Your head snaps up, “Wh-“

“And you’re not going to get my fingers.”

“Dinnnnn,” you whine before he cuts you off.

“…I’m going to eat you out until I have you running down my chin.”

“Holy Fu-,“ you don’t even finish your thought as you have to sharply inhale when Din pulls you closer to the edge of the bed by your ankles, gently places your legs over his shoulders and starts lovingly trailing kisses down your inner thigh.

Then he makes you come with just his mouth and his words:

“Such a pretty pussy.  So sweet and perfect,”as he licks long, strong strokes up and down your slit.

“Love how wet you get just from my mouth.  Such a greedy, needy slut,” as he explores your folds with his tongue, swirling and gliding through the most sensitive parts of your cunt.

“Give me those moans, baby girl.  Need to know if my little whore likes what I’m doing to this pretty hole,” as he drinks in your moans and makes the most obscene slurping and squelching noises while open mouth kissing every part of your pussy.

“Come on, sweetheart, soak my face.  Want to drink you up,” as he teases your clit between his teeth before closing his lips over your swollen bud and builds, builds, and builds you up until you topple off the edge, grabbing his hair as you seize, screaming “Daddy!”

You can still taste yourself on his tongue after Din crawls up your body to pepper your mouth with kisses, tucking you into bed before climbing in under the covers to join you. 

“What about you, Din?” you murmur into his neck as he holds you close; knowing you’re too pliant and boneless to argue, he tells you he’ll be fine as you drift off into your nap.

---

Later in the afternoon, the two of you go for a leisurely (and happily pain free) stroll around your neighbourhood with Al, where you proceed to point out all the food places of note; happily, you let Din select an assortment of pastries for tonight’s dessert from a local bakery and try not to side-eye him too much when he doesn’t choose the Portuguese egg tart.  No one’s perfect, you suppose, smiling to yourself. Once back home, you get started on dinner at the kitchen island, cutting up the bread for tonight’s panzanella.  Din is facing you, sitting on a high top at the bar side of the island, helping you organize the ingredients into little bowls when your cutting board gets too full.  Content chatting nonstop while you prep, you smile at Din and ask, “Why did your dad name the gym ‘Mando’s’?”

Smiling back a big grin, Din points to a pad of paper and pen, to which you nod, “You ever watch Back to the Future, pretty bird?”

“Of course, I love Michael J. Fox!”

Din starts writing on the notepad, “Well, before it went bankrupt, DMC had a repair garage where the gym is now.”  He turns the paper towards you, where you see he’s written:

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

“Then before the movie even came out, the company went kaput and abandoned the building and the lot.  A couple of years later, Dad bought it for real cheap, and started to fix the place up to turn it into a gym and a place for us to live.  The neighbourhood was a bit rougher back then, and for some reason, maybe because the movie was so popular at the time, people kept stealing the letters on the sign out front.”

Taking the pad back, Din draws a few short marks on the paper before turning it back to you, “When we moved into the apartment on the top floor, this was what was left.”  When you look, you can’t help but laugh, “Oh my god, they took so many.”

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

Grinning, Din takes the pad back for a second time, “Dad and Boba tried to scare the kids into leaving it alone, but I think the challenge just motivated them more.  When the renovations on the gym were about done and dad was ready to open, this is what it looked like:”

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

“Dad didn’t want to spend any more money, so he got up on a ladder with a bucket of paint and a paint brush, added the apostrophe and the word ‘gym’ underneath, and that’s how ‘Mando’s Gym’ was born,” Din recounts wistfully, “I think if anyone didn’t know the real story, Dad used to just say Mando was his grandfather’s name or something.  He never found out that Paz and I were the ones who stole the last ‘u’.  I think Paz still has it at his place.”

“That’s so cute,” you grin.  You love how Din talks about his dad; it’s so evident that he’s proud of their shared history with the gym and strong ties to the neighbourhood.  You can just imagine a young Din and Paz sneaking around the property, planning their great heist, “I bet he knew though.  You two were probably the biggest scamps.”

Din comes around to your side of the island, “You’re probably right.  Dad always knew more than he let on.  And who are you calling a scamp, sweetheart?” He steals a handful of cut bread before pinching you on the bum and escaping to the living room to share his bounty with Al.

---

After a hearty dinner, you and Din put on some tv in the background, and laze on the couch talking about anything and everything: work, dream places to travel, most embarrassing dumb college experiences, extended family.  Netflix and chill, indeed.  You’re sitting with your back against the arm of the couch, legs laid over Din’s lap as he gently plays with and massages your hands.  On the heels of that last topic, you grow a little more serious, and decide to bring up something you’ve been meaning to address, “Din? You know how you told me yesterday a little more about what you and the Mandos do for Boba?”

At this, Din straightens up a bit.  He knew you would have questions and have every right to ask; he just doesn’t know what he’s prepared to answer. 

“I know that the Fett family is important to you, and you’re loyal to them – I can’t admit I’m not curious about… well everything. But I’m never going to, like, interrogate you, okay?  I might have questions, but won’t demand answers because I’m assuming, not all the answers are yours to give.  I guess what I’m saying is it’s okay that you don’t tell me everything, but Din,” and you look at him with pleading eyes, “please don’t ever make me feel like you’re hiding something from me?”

“Oh, pretty bird,” as usual, you prove to be a lot more pragmatic and understanding than Din had been prepared for.  He’s not sure if he’s ever going to stop being surprised by your forgiving and empathetic nature, “I promise I’ll never make you feel that way.  Everything that’s mine, is yours to know if you wish.  You’re right about there being some things that I might not be able to discuss, but you can ask me anything, anytime, okay?”  He kisses your hands over and over, like a humbled subject showing his devotion and allegiance to his queen.  He might be being a little cavalier about it, but he wants you to know that you’re not misplacing your trust in him, and that he in turns, trusts you, “Is there anything you want to know now?”

You think about it for a second then shake your head truthfully, “Right now?  Not really.  Well… maybe just… do you ever carry weapons?”

“Baby, weapons are part of… the religion,” Din tries to phrase it in a delicate, more poetic way, “but, I never carry when I’m in public, and definitely not when I’m with you.  Is that ok?”

Thoughtfully, you nod.  You’ve never felt afraid or intimidated by Din, and his answer doesn’t change that.  Satisfied, you pull up and capture Din’s lips with yours, drawing out the kiss as if sealing in your confidence on the matter.

When you relaxed back into your previous position, but having now reversed your roles so you’re the one giving the hand massage, Din has a completely different question for you, but one he approaches with the same seriousness and care that you did your last, “Pretty bird, I have to make sure something with you.”

You look at him, curious. Din continues, almost shy, “When we’re… in bed… and I call you names…”

Keeping your expression neutral, you think about the side of Din that’s confident, dominant even, who has a mouthy quip for every occasion, and then fondly watch this other Din, the Din who’s easily flustered when he’s trying to be sincere, who is respectful to a fault, almost SHY; honestly, you’re falling in love with both.  But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him, “What names?”

Din goes beet red and murmurs after a beat, “dirty names..” You stay silent but arch your eyebrows.

“… you know that that’s not what I really think of you, right?”

Oh.  How is this brute of a man, who’s made you come five times in the last 24 hours, so fucking respectful.  You almost feel bad at the giggle that leaves your throat, and you clasp your hands over your mouth so Din can’t see you smile.  It’s absurd.  This man?  An enforcer for a crime boss? If he hadn’t told you himself you wouldn’t have believed it.  He’s so soft and caring, considerate of your physical comfort and emotional safety.  How is he real?  The other hilarious thought is the idea that you might be offended by some light degradation when really, it turns you on like a lightbulb.

You climb onto Din’s lap, straddling his legs; glad to no longer feel a burn in your upper thighs, you cup his face lovingly and plant reassuring kisses on Din’s face, his lips, his cheeks, his nose, “Oh Din, how did I get so lucky?  Of course, I don’t think you think you mean anything actually insulting or demeaning towards me as a person when you call me a slut or a whore in bed.” Silly man. “In fact, the only reason I even find it such a turn on is because I’m sure that you don’t.  If I even thought for a second that you didn’t value me as a person or a woman, I would never entertain you touching me never mind calling me any dirty names during sex.”

Din breathes a sigh of relief, he loved how you brought out the dirty talk in him, but dirty talk was only hot if you liked the dirty talk, “Ok, baby.  I would never.  You’re the smartest, sweetest, prettiest bird. I’m the lucky one that you even looked twice my way.”

You’re melting, and also incredibly turned on, “You’re so good to me, Din.  That’s why I like it when you call me a slut,” you coo into his ear, “It’s like you’re the only one who gets to see this needy, desperate part of me.  You’re the only one who can give me what I need.”

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

“Everyone else gets to see the good girl too, but only you get to know me like this, a filthy whore that’s desperate for your cock.”

“Goddammit, pretty girl.”

“And you know what else I like?”

“What, baby?”

“I like the idea that you want me so bad, that I drive you so crazy, that you cannot help yourself.  You need to take your little slut so bad that you can’t be bothered to be respectful anymore.”

Din’s face is muffled into your neck, “Yeah, baby, respect you so much.”

“I know, daddy.  That’s why I want you to call me a whore, a slut… then handle me like one,” you pause and give Din a less self assured look, “but… I don’t think I like the word ‘bitch’.  And I don’t want you to call me stupid.  And… nothing said in anger.  Or to humiliate me.  I don’t think I would find that very sexy.”

Stroking your hair, Din kisses you lightly, “Of course, only what makes you feel good, I promise.  Only the dirty talk that makes you feel hot… and safe,”

Punctuating each word with a kiss to Din’s open mouth, “Thank you, daddy.  So good to me.  So respectful.  You take such good care of me.  That’s why you get to treat me like your cumslut.”

“Holy fuck, sweet girl.  Remind me again what else you like,” stutters Din, now thrusting up slightly into you.

“I like being your filthy, needy slut, Din,” grinding down on Din’s lap

“Yes, baby girl.  Daddy’s here, take what you need.”

You can feel Din’s cock pressing into you through his pants, so you lift up to shimmy out of your shorts and panties; climbing back onto Din, you take his hands and guide it towards where you’re already throbbing and aching for him.  Din strokes through your wet folds, sucking in a sharp breath, “Fuck, you are a desperate little slut.  So wet from just talking about how dirty you are.”

Plunging a finger in you and meeting no resistance in your slick hole, he adds another and builds up a steady rhythm, “This what you need, pretty bird?  Need daddy to fill you up?”

Bouncing on his fingers, you cry out, “Yes, daddy.  Please, please, need you to fill me up.  Stretch out this pussy,” you pull your shirt over your head, and let your breasts bounce free.

“Fuck. The tits on you, pretty bird.  And the mouth.  You’re gonna be the end of me,” Din growls, working another finger into you as his thumb draws firm circles over your slippery clit.

When Din leans down to take one of your nipples in your mouth, you gasp; your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast.  The combination of the dirty talk and the fact that it all stemmed from Din wanting to make sure you got to set the boundaries on your derogatory dirty talk, has you absolutely feral for him, “I’m close, Din.  Can’t help it, feels so good.”

“Let go, baby, I got you,” Din promises, intensifying his movements until you come, shaking and nearly sobbing.

Resting your head on Din’s shoulders as he slips out of you, you purr, “Let me clean you up, daddy.”

“Dirty girl,” Din says, smiling down at you.

And with those two words, you feel a fresh wave of heat in your lower belly even though you haven’t yet fully come down from your high; sucking and swirling his fingers in your mouth, you mumble, “Want your cock, Din.”

“What’s that?  You’re still fucked out from my fingers and you want to be my cock sleeve already?”

Uhhhhhhhgg, he is driving you fucking insane.  Coming off his fingers with a pop, you give Din the most innocent look you can muster, “It’s what your little whore needs.”

“Who am I to deny you, pretty bird?” lifting up to pull down his pants, he releases his already leaking cock and lines himself up with your entrance, giving you the go ahead to sink down when you’re ready, “Take what you need, baby.”

Slowly, you sink down, letting his thickness fill you, feeling every delicious inch and stretch of your walls.  When you’re fully seated on Din, you take a moment to revel in this feeling of fullness, having him entirely inside of you, before you start to work yourself on his length.  Each little bounce pulling a moan from your lips and swaying your breasts in Din’s face.  Groping your boobs and pushing them together so he can take as much of the flesh in his mouth at once, Din mumbles, “Perfect tits, baby.  So perfect for my mouth.  You feel so good, pretty bird.  Need to fuck you.”

“Give it to me, daddy.  Use me like a cumrag,” you throw your head back as Din groans and still grasping onto your breasts, starts thrusting up into you.  You’re putty in his hands, a pliant doll for him to use, and he’s taking full advantage, “Such a good little whore for me, letting me use her hole any way I want.”

Your fingers dip to where you’re joined with Din and swipe across your throbbing clit; it takes only four sloppy circles before you wail out Din’s name, coming quickly but intensely.  Closing your eyes, you tuck yourself under Din’s chin and continue to mewl as Din uses your body for his own pleasure.

“Give me all those needy noises.  Need to hear how good I’m making my pretty slut’s pussy feel.”

“Fuck, Din… feels so good.  It’s your pussy, only you can make me – ngh!  Fill me up, daddy. Need your cum.  Please, give it all to me.”

Hearing you beg for his cum pushes Din over the edge and he comes with a roar, shooting his release deep inside you.  Both of you shuddering as he empties into you, holding each other tight, kisses messy and loving.

When your breathing evens, you straighten up to look at Din, glassy-eyed and fucked out; taking in your expression, Din gently kisses you, satisfied and content, mumbling against your lips, “Good talk.”

Laughing, you give him a little punch in the shoulder before kissing him back sweetly.

---

The next morning, Din drops you off at brunch; you let him know that he’s welcome to join, but he makes a good case for going back to his place, “I think I need a fresh change of clothes, pretty bird.  These kind of still smell like that club.”

Jokingly, you pretend to take a whiff and scrunch up your nose.  Din kisses your adorable expression and promises to come pick you up after.

To say the girls are curious about what’s transpired since the birthday dinner is the understatement of the century; when you let them know in the chat that Din would be dropping you off at brunch, your phone had practically vibrated itself off your bedside table from the successive notifications.  Securing your phone in a drawer, you escaped to the shower without reading any of the messages.

You’re sure you and Din were spotted through the windows, but when you sit down in your usual seat, you’re met with nonchalant, innocent faces… that last for approximately 20 seconds before Bea explodes, “What the hell??!?!”

“You dropped a bomb in the group chat and then radio silence?!!”

“That was him outside?! He’s the size of a fucking refrigerator!”

“DO YOU HAVE A SEX LIMP?”

Rory’s outburst stuns several nearby tables into silence, as your friends all turn to face you, expectantly.  Sheepishly, you nod and giggle, “… but he fucked it better yesterday.”

Your friends whoop and cheer so loud you’re sure that you’re going to need to find a new brunch location after today.  Feeling bad for having inadvertently left them in suspense earlier, you tell your friends everything, minus the details about the Fett Family and Din’s past and current ties, leaving it as Din coming from a rough neighbourhood and being hypervigilant about safety.

“Seems like he was trying to look out for you, but wound up being kind of stupid about it,” muses Lala.  Everyone nods; they’re right of course, but the dreamy look you have on your face convinces your friends that you and Din have worked past it.  They press you for more details about your weekend, and you talk so much that your food goes cold.

At one point, you have to remind your friends that this is Katie’s birthday brunch and you shouldn’t be monopolizing the conversation, but Katie waves her hand dismissively and says that all she wants for her birthday is to know how many orgasms you’ve had since she last saw you.

Popping a strawberry in your mouth, you muse, “Including this morning?”

“GIRL.”

Mouth full after adding a forkful of fruit, you hold up both hands, palms out and fingers spread, then fold down one thumb.

“Holy shit, no wonder you had a sex limp.”

The table giggles uncontrollably and you use the opportunity to shovel more food in your mouth before your friends assail you with more questions.

When your plates are being cleared, you lean back in your chair, stomach full, and spot a familiar hulk of a character sitting at the bar.  Giving Din a little wave, he smiles and gets up when you wave him over.

Getting permission from a waiter to pull over a chair, Din folds his large frame into his seat next to you and says, rather nervously, “Hi.  I’m Din.”

“Oh, we know,” cackles Rory, and you cover your face, you’re giggling so much.

You make the introductions, and Din politely shakes everyone’s hands while your friends all smirk knowingly at him.  They’re such menaces.  Din breaks the ice, “So you guys want my place and time of birth to do my star chart?”  This gets a good laugh, and when that dies down, Bea looks Din dead in the eye, “Yeah, we do.”

Din roars with laughter, “Might as well, I have a feeling there aren’t going to be any secrets between me and you ladies.”

“Right-o, dude.  Can you also get some socials so we can keep an eye on you?”

“No can do, sorry.  Like this one says,” Din’s finger jabs lovingly into your side, “I’m too much of an old man.  But you’re all welcome to come and work out at my gym if you want to check up on me.  Anytime,” holding his hands up in surrender.

“Any cute guys at your gym?”

“You’re looking at the cutest guy there,” you cut in, grinning uncontrollably when Din leans over to give you an appreciative kiss on your temple.

Before your friends can groan at this cute display, the waiter who Jen has been trying to flag down comes over so she can ask for the check, and to the table’s surprise, he responds, “The bill’s been paid.  All taken care of,” and gives Din a nod.

You turn to Din, shocked, “Din!!”

Din looks like he’s been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, “It was… an accident.”

Incredulously, you say, “Did your credit call fall into the reader?”

“No, no,” Din implores, “I got here early, so I got a coffee at the bar, and then thought I would pay for your meal, pretty bird.”  You instinctively soften at the pet name, and you know your friends do too.

Din runs his hands through his hair, “Then I remembered it was Katie’s birthday, so I asked the waiter if he knew which meal was the birthday girl’s so I could pay for that too,” he’s getting kind of flustered now.  “…Then, I thought that might be kind of unfair for everyone else because you were probably going to split Katie’s meal so now everyone left would be paying more than before… and I couldn’t take it back, so… I just paid for everyone,” he finishes in a hurry.

“Why are you so cute?” you ask, purposefully pouty, pulling Din in for an appreciative kiss – he wasn’t trying to be boastful or impressive, he was just being thoughtful.  You can’t help but feel pride in showing this Din to your friends: he’s charming and confident, but ultimately just a giant teddy bear whose own considerate and kind nature can’t help but shine through.

“Ok fine, you’re forgiven,” quips Rory, and Din breaks out into a huge smile as he mimes wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and exhales, “Whew!”

The girls chorus their thanks, and you know that they’re truly appreciative and touched by his sweet gesture.

“My pleasure,” Din says, genuinely, “and Happy Birthday!” he says to Katie.

“Thank you!  The best birthday gift you could give me is taking care of our girl here,” smiles Katie, with sincerity.

Din wraps his arms around you and you tilt your face up to his, melting into his look of adoration. “Consider it done,” he says softly before lightly pressing his lips to yours.

[certifiedstabber]

50 Killermare interactions ♤

hi im so normal abt them :3 soooo normal youd never believe how normal i am eheheh ..

killer writing religious nonsense on the walls and nightmare losing his shit over it

killer bringing a soundboard with him everywhere he goes and hitting 'aww :(' whenever nightmare kills someone. nightmare gets hit by dream and all you hear is 'yaaaaaaay :3'

killer getting sick and nightmare spending half the time trying (and failing) to get him to rest and take meds

killer forcing nightmare to watch the entirety of family guy just so he can make shitty references. both of them hate the show

killer convincing nightmare to become a video essayist. he subscribes to nights channel. nightmare forces killer to delete his pre-existing youtube account filled with video footage of the gang

killer bringing home cats and nightmare naming them after prescription pills. there's also just one called fentanyl

nightmare being very antsy about his birthday. killer presenting him with a wet sopping trout as a "gift" in a crude attempt to cheer him up

nightmare assigning killer perfectly safe yet physically exhausting tasks for the fun of it

killer harassing nightmare in every video game they play. nightmare obstructing his progress however possible so they're both equally annoyed

sadomasochist duo who use each other to vent out their anger

killer making up random slang words and nightmare spending half the day trying to figure out what he's saying

nightmare having delusional episodes and killer going along with whatever he believes for the hell of it

nightmare calling killer a rabid dog and waking up the next day to him chewing on his arm

killer bringing nightmare a bouquet of dead floweys for valentines day

killer jokingly starting a church in order to pray to nightmare. nightmare almost killing him before realising that killer somehow managed to get people to start attending

giving each other the silent treatment after every argument. nightmare is always the first to cave in and start a conversation

killer having a dream cosplay and popping out in front of nightmare at the most random of times

killer filling nightmares office with thousands of balls meant for ballpits

killer conspiring with dust to make a chemical capable of melting nightmare's goop. he succeeds and nightmare loses his mind over how the first person to successfully melt it is killer .. because his reasoning was 'it would be funny'

they'd have a political podcast consisting of nightmare being serious and killer responding with arguments specifically designed to annoy him

nightmare being woken up at 2am because killer wants to go to a random au and look at paint splotches

nightmare going on vacation. error launching killer at him and screaming about how he refuses to listen to anyone else. nightmare being stuck with killer on vacation

nightmare showing killer a show he likes. nightmare occasionally sparing glances to see if he's watching or not — killer being disinterested in it and side eyeing him the entire time watching his reactions instead

the pair having equally as much information on bugs and freaking people out with it

nightmare ballroom dancing with killer during one of their many, many massacres

killer throwing paint over nightmare and learning that he can indeed dye his sludge to be any colour

killer learning that nightmare has vocal stims and repeating nonsensical things to try to get him to repeat involuntarily or vice versa it could go both ways

both of them having vocal stims and the moment one of them stims the other starts too

nightmare stepping away from his paperwork just to supervise killer cooking

nightmare inherently despising furries because they're having fun expressing themselves freely. killer buying a fursuit that looks suspiciously similar to nightmare and wearing it

killer putting said fursuit into nightmares closet and proceeding to show it to the other bad sanses. nightmare finds out what happens later and almost kills every member of his gang

nightmare being lighter than usual thanks to his lack of physical form, killer waiting until he's asleep and proceeding to figure out how many balloons he has to tie to him until he starts floating

nightmare standing in the corner of killer's eye and teleporting away if he looks at him. this repeats for hours

nightmare insultingly saying that a roomba could do a better job than killer, so killer buys one. the roomba, in all its glory, does indeed somehow do a better job than killer

nightmare getting used to being called a squid/octopus. nightmare almost exploding when killer calls him a centipede

horror getting captured by the enemy and nightmare leaving him there for a week before getting him out. killer getting captured and he's out within 2 hours

nightmare being the type to never swear. killer amping up his chaos and managing to get him to swear five times in a day

killer stealing aphrodisiacs from dust, slipping them into nightmare's tea and proceeding to draw all over him. bonus the drawings melt into the goop and nightmare has cool looking drippy symbols on him for the next few days

killer putting nightmare on antidepressants end sentence there's too many outcomes to list

killer hiding nightmare's clothes in an attempt to get him to walk around naked. nightmare somehow having an infinite amount of the same outfit (it's just his sludge—the others were there for show)

nightmare bandaging killer up badly on purpose in hopes his wounds reopen and he starts bleeding

killer having an organ he teleports with him essentially everywhere just to play boss music for nightmare. nightmare being forced to deal with it because the one time he didn't bring it along killer refused to fight alongside him

killer and nightmare being the greatest poker duo of all time. they set up a gambling ring where people can just watch them play against each other

killer making a vocaloid out of nightmare's voice and releasing it to the public, which obviously gets a bunch of attention since it's, well, nightmare. killer starts making songs with it and gaining recognition except it's literally just nightmare himself singing them

killer holding a funeral for nightmare whenever he gets mildly injured

both of them making up the craziest lies about themselves and seeing how long it takes for the other to figure it out

nightmare going by they/them and killer, having special permission to call him by he/him, going around correcting people on 'his' pronouns

killer with a gun. nightmare having to get it away from him before he kills his teammates

"what if we get a new teammate" "no"

killer being a really horrific chef yet somehow when it comes to preparing food for his and nightmares monthly picnic it's all perfect

[wafflefries13]

A Wolf In Wolf's Clothing

Summary: A forced retreat to the woods leads to meeting a couple of new friends, one furry and one furious.

AN: Another fic I wrote a while back, another than got eaten by Tumblr. Still pretty proud of this one! Repost.

Warnings: Werewolf au, cannon typical violence, language

It was fine. This was fine. Staying in a small cabin in the middle of the woods, getting back to nature, away from the city, away from those yakuza who were tracking you down because your dad had skipped out on the massive amounts of gambiling debt he had, and seriously, Dad, you knew he had a problem, not that he would ever listen to you, but did he really have to go and play mahjong, freaking mahjong, with some super sketchy people and really think everything was just going to be fine that he was going to be okay when he already had a massive pile of debt from that pyramid scheme that you told him was a pyramid scheme or the loss from that horse race last month, and seriously, Dad, this is why mom left-!

But it was fine. You were fine. 

The cabin was small, a one room structure that gave you flashbacks to ‘Little House on the Prairie.’ Thankfully, the owners had attached the outhouse to the actual house a few years back, installing a slim standing shower. Electricity came from either solar power or a gas generator hook-up out back, but there was no way you would ever get an internet connection all the way out here.  But it had a fireplace! That was pretty cool, right? 

You weren’t exactly sure how long you’d be out here. The detective from vice told you to stay off the grid as much as possible, that they’d get in touch with you, not the other way around. The police officer had dropped you off about an hour ago after bumping over an unpaved road tangled by tree roots and overgrown underbrush. You would never have been able to find this place by yourself. But you supposed that that was the whole point. 

You’d spent your first few hours there getting the cabin to an actual livable condition. Vice had told you that this place wasn’t used a lot, and you could immediately see it. Every surface was coated in a thick layer of dust. The windows were covered in who knows how many years of grime. Cobwebs littered with tiny insect carcases huddled in every corner and crevice. You were lucky you hadn’t found a racoon nest in the chimney flue. 

Finally, as the sun set, your muscles aching from the work, you decided that your temporary home was livable enough. You summoned all your knowledge from watching ‘Man vs Wild’ and lit a fire. You heated up a can of chicken noodle soup on the gas stove. The cabin didn’t have a bed, so you stacked several thick quilts stored in a cupboard, rolling out your sleeping bag on top. 

You sat on your makeshift bed, back pressed against the wall, slurping your soup. Outside the window, you watched as the light slowly faded away. Wow, you didn’t realize how dark it could really get out here. You put way too much stock in the light you could get from the moon and stars, apparently. There was no accounting for the noise, though. It sounded like a million different insects were screaming from the woods outside. You thought cricket noises were supposed to be comforting, like listening to the ocean to try and fall asleep. But this just made you itch and wish for another can of bug spray.  Man, vice really sent you out here with nothing, didn’t they? 

Sitting back and contemplating your possible execution via yakuza boss in the near future, it took you a while before you recognized the change. Every noise outside your four walls had fallen silent. The popping of logs in the fireplace was tantamount to gun fire. 

Slowly, you set down your half-finished can of soup, dragging a wooden bat out that you had snagged before the vice police shoved you in the car to bring you here. Staying as low to the floor as possible, you crawled to the front window. You pressed your back against the wall, like you had seen spies do in movies, and slowly lifted one corner of the thick curtains. You tried to crane your head to look out, but it hurt more than you thought it would and your visibility was cut by way more than half. 

Why hadn’t vice at least given you a gun or something? 

Taking a deep breath, you stood, holding the bat in front of you like a sword. Before you could convince yourself that this was a bad idea (too late) you burst open the front door, ready to swing at whatever you saw first. 

Noise exploded back into existence as soon as you stepped into the small clearing around the cabin. Panting heavily and breaking out in a cold sweat from the adrenaline, you whipped your head back and forth to look for intruders. Left? Clear. Right? Clear. Front? Clear. Behind-?! Wait, that was the cabin, you were just there. 

You felt all the energy leave you at once. The bat suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. You slumped forward, bracing your head on the backs of your hands settled on the pommel of the bat. 

You heard something from the other side of the cabin. A low groan, the result of footsteps. Gulping hard, you raised the bat again, silently making your way to the corner of the house. You whipped around the corner. 

A giant furry shape was slumped in a pile in front of you. It let out a low whine. You could see the powerful muscles under its thick fur coat ripple and stretch as the thing tried to get comfortable. Sensing your presents, it reared its large head, pinning you down with ruby red eyes. 

A wolf. There was a wolf in front of you. You had always assumed wolves would sort of look like giant dogs, but this close you could see how different they really were. This thing was huge, first of all. Its head would come up to your shoulder when it stood. It also had long thin legs, built for fast running and careening over obstacles. The wolf snared at you, its lips pulling back as a deep growl emanate from its throat. You could almost swear it was glaring at you. 

Its threat was cut short, however, by a pained yip. As it tried to stand, it faltered and fell over, back into a furry heap. You could see a patch of mismatched fur coating its back leg up along its haunch. The fur was matted, dark with something wet. 

You dropped the bat, holding your hands in front of you in what you hoped was a non-threatening pose. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” You said softly. “I’m just gonna… I’ll be right back.” You ducked back around the corner, heading into the cabin. You threw open the cabinet doors, rummaging for a first aid kit you could have sworn you saw somewhere while cleaning. You found the small white box, hoping that whatever was inside was as suitable for giant wolves as it was for people. 

You headed back out. Going around the cabin, you saw the wolf trying to stand and limp away again. He didn’t make it two steps before collapsing. Instead of a pained noise, this time he just left out a frustrated humph. You giggled despite yourself. The wolf’s head reared back around, locking eyes with you again. It growled at you. 

“I don’t think you look as menacing as you think you do right now,” You said. You tried to talk calmly in a low voice. That’s what you were supposed to do with frightened and injured animals, right? Well, you also were supposed to leave them alone and call animal control or something, but you didn’t really have the option of doing that right now. And you didn’t think you could sleep, much less live with yourself, if you knowingly just let this wolf suffer right outside your door. 

You took another step closer. The wolf snapped his jaws at you but didn’t move from his heap. “Hey, easy, big guy. I just want to help.” You held up the first aid kit, as if that was supposed to mean anything to a wild animal. The wolf glared at you, but didn’t make any movement as you took another cautious step forward. As you knelt down beside his injured back leg, he huffed again, turning his head away and resting it on his massive paws, resigned to accept you unasked for help. This close up, you could see his fur was an unusual blond. It reminded you of wheat fields just before harvest (not that you had ever seen that, being such a city kid, but pictures and imagination counted for something, right?). 

You opened the kit and pulled on a pair of gloves. Parting his fur, you hissed in sympathy at his wound. There was a gash slicing through his entire haunch, more wide than it was deep, but still bleeding profusely. You could see smaller cuts and bite marks, punchers in his flesh, littering the rest of his leg and up his back. Some of these wounds had already half-healed, but had reopened again, oozing and clotted. 

You threaded a hand comfortingly through his fur, speaking softly as you dabbed an antiseptic wipe along the largest gash. The wolf winced and barked at you in annoyance at the sting, but after a glare (you didn’t even know wolves could glare with such intensity before this), he resigned himself and plopped his head back down. There were some butterfly sutures that you hoped would stick on with his fur. You pushed them down, pulling the edges so the flesh closed. You tried your best to clean the other injuries, but you didn’t have a lot of butterfly sutures, and bandaids certainly weren’t going to stay down. 

As you were contemplating this, a chorus of howls erupted from the woods around you. The blond wolf sprung into action immediately, jumping up and circling himself around you. You probably would have thought that was amazing or cute or something if a sense of panic hadn’t seized you. The wolf was still limping, trying to keep his back leg off the ground. His head jerked from side to side, ears constantly twitching. Whatever was out there, you could only imagine that it was closing in, and it was out for blood. 

“Oh, this is going to be a bad idea,” You said to yourself. The wolf cocked his head at you. “But, hey, I’m not making any good choices tonight, I guess. Come on.” You picked up your abandoned bat, standing to guard the wolf from the tree line. You started backing up, genteling nudging the wolf with your hip in the direction of the cabin door. He seemed to get your meaning, limping along, but trying to maintain his sense of canine bravado by making threatening growls and fangs bared. 

Backing your way into the cabin, you quickly locked and barred the door. You had no idea if conventional locks would keep out blood-thirsty wolves, but you figured it wouldn’t do much against determined yakuza members either, so maybe you should just cut your losses. 

You heard a loud slurping and turned around. The blond wolf had his muzzle buried in your reheated soup, lapping it up and spilling everything that didn’t immediately make it into his mouth. 

“Hey!” You chastised. You could have sworn he rolled his eyes at you. Could wolves do that? Like, physically? His long tongue licked his chops when he was done. He took a few stumbling steps then collapsed by the fire. 

“Alright,” You said to yourself. “I guess this is happening, huh?” You could have sworn the wolf made a sound of agreement. 

~~~

You woke up to the sound of bird song and a mouth full of fur. 

Sputtering, you pieced together the events of last night in your head. The wolf had you pinned against the wall of your makeshift bed, his back pressed against your stomach and chest. You had a fleeting thought that he was putting himself between you and any danger that might break in. You had heard stories of mother wolves protecting human babies, maybe this was something like that? Or were you thinking of The Jungle Book? The founding of Rome? Whatever. 

Either way, it made you smile a bit, petting his fur. Wow, you had no idea wolf fur was so thick! Your hand just seemed to drop forever through his soft coat. Your action was enough to rouse the wolf from his sleep just a bit. He cast a tired glance over his shoulder at you. You could have sworn you could read his expression. “Really? You’re waking me up for this?” 

“Hey there, sunshine,” You said. “I should probably take another look at that leg, huh?” 

The wolf huffed, rolling over. You thought for a second he was giving you room to get up, but when you started to move he rolled back over, landing heavily across you and pinning you down. “That’s, uh, that’s a no then, huh?” The wolf just shuffled to a more comfortable position (on top of you) and closed his eyes. 

You sighed, reaching up and rubbing the fur between his ears. “This is my life now, huh?” 

He blinked open his eyes, staring right into yours. They were a deep red, almost like uncut garnets. You had no idea animals could have eyes like that. Not just that, but something about them looked almost too… human to you. The proportion of iris to whites just sort of off from what you would expect from your average dog. Before you could put your finger on it, the wolf closed his eyes and rested his head again. 

His heat radiated through you like a miniature sun. You pet through his fur, deciding to narrate your thoughts out loud. You told him about how you came to be in these woods, in this cabin, your struggles with dealing with your father's gambeling addiction for so many years, the fall festival you had gone to last year, how you wanted to start hiking now that you were trapped out here, this song you couldn’t remember the words to, summarizing the plot from some book you had to read for English class. 

After the sun had already started to rise high in the sky, the wolf (you really needed a name for him, huh?) slinked off of you. You let out an exaggerated breath, thumbing your chest a few times. He flicked his tail at you. 

You opened up the cooler you brought with you. Take two slices for yourself, you handed the wolf the rest of the sliced turkey you had bought for sandwiches. He ate the entire pack in one massive bite, looking at you expectantly for more. Huffing in mock annoyance, you tossed him the other two slices. He caught them in the air, flicking his tongue to get the juice from his canine maw. 

He tested his weight on his back leg. You could tell it still hurt him, but he still tried to walk with his other three legs. He stretched out, arching his back. “Oooh, big stretch!” You said. There was that glare again. 

He limped over to the door, scratching it. You opened it for him, assuming he had to do his doggy business or something (wait, was he trained to go outside? That would explain some things). But when you tried to close the door again, he barked at you. He scratched the door frame until you followed him outside. He would walk several feet ahead then sit, looking over at you and barking. You went back inside and tugged on your hiking shoes, spraying yourself down with a healthy dose of bug spray. 

The wolf was still pretty unsteady on his feet. He would stumble occasionally, but when you would put out a hand to help him, he would snap back at you. Whatever the case, he at least seemed to know where he was going. Even in his injured state, he could keep a good distance ahead of you. 

You heard water rushing as the wolf dropped out of sight. Thinking he might have fallen, you rushed to where you last saw him. The trees broke away, revealing a rippling river with cool pools stretching through the forest. You took in the beautiful scenery, the ice blue water cascading down tiny waterfalls, when sudden movement caught your eye. You focused where you saw it and gasped. A salmon jumped from the water, swimming upstream. That one was joined by another, then two more, until the whole river seemed to burst with fish. 

You laughed in shock and amusement at the sight, but were cut off short by something cold and slimy hitting your face. You sputtered against it, swiping it away from you. Looking down, you saw your assailant was flopping on the sandy river bank. A giant salmon, mouth gapping and scales shimmering in the sunlight. 

You heard a huff that you could have sworn sounded amused. Looking up, you saw the wolf at the edge of the bank, dipping his paw in the water. He looked deeply into the river, still as a rock, before striking all at once and bringing his paw up. He batted another fish out of the water. You put your hands up, catching it in a slimy, uncertain grip. The fish thrashed around and you ended up dropping him on his friend. 

“You know all the best places, huh?” You said. The wolf shook water off of his fur and went back to focusing on the river. “I’m going to run back and get the cooler! We’ll be able to carry a lot more that way!” You weren’t sure why you were telling a wolf this, as if he could understand you, but it felt right somehow. 

You carefully followed your footsteps back to the cabin, breaking a twig or making a mark on a tree as you went to make a path. Back at the cabin, you quickly pulled the food you had brought with you out of the cooler, shoving it in the mini-fridge. You didn’t have an ice maker in the cabin, so you hoped the already half-thawed cold packs would work. Almost as an afterthought, you grabbed the first aid kit, tossing it in the cooler. Luging the cooler over your shoulder, you followed your improvised markers back to the river. 

You set the bulky cooler down heavily on the bank, looking up with a wide grin for your new companion. Scanning the banks and treeline, your face gradually fell as your search turned fruitless. Your new wolf buddy was nowhere to be seen. 

At first, you felt sad that he had just up and left, then scared for his injury. He was still having trouble walking. What if whatever was prowling around your cabin last night came back and tried to take a bite of him? 

“Wolf?” You called out, almost immediately feeling like an idiot for doing so. You knew you should have named him. Although, it wasn’t like he was trained to respond to your call. You had to remind yourself that this was a wild animal and not a trained dog from the pound, despite his reluctant friendliness. “Wolf? Where’d you go, big guy? Hello?” 

“If you keep yelling like that, a whole pack is going to come and tear you apart.” 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the very human response. Bracing your hands on your knees, you looked down the drop away from the bank to the river. There was a tiny beach there. Leaving against the sandy drop was a boy, head tilted back and face bathed in the sunlight. Despite his relaxed body posture, one leg spread out in front of him, the other bent to his chest, arms loosely crossed, he had an annoyed if not pained expression across his face. His hair was the color of fresh cut wheat, but as spiky as a porcupine. Lolling his head in your direction, he opened his eyes under furrowed brows. You thought it was a trick of the light, but you could swear they were a deep red. ‘Like garnets…’ You thought, memory jumping back to your missing wolf friend. 

“Uh, sorry,” You said. “I was just looking for-” 

And then your heart stopped as you suddenly remembered why you were out in the middle of the woods. The whole reason you had come here, why the police had dragged you away from your everyday life for your own protection. 

You tripped over your own feet flinging yourself backwards. You landed heavy on your butt. Scrambling back, your head whipped from side to side looking for something to defend yourself with. Damn it! You should have grabbed your bat when you got the cooler! 

“Hey!” He yelled up at you. “You going to keep spazzing out or give me a hand here?” 

“Depends,” You said. “What are you doing out here? We’re in the middle of nowhere.” 

“The hell do you think I’m doing? I work out here.” You saw his hand come up and grip the edge of the bank. He pulled himself up, but winced in pain. Bracing his arms against the bank, he said, “I’m a forest ranger, kind of. Tag some of the animals, make sure no one’s starting forest fires, keep poachers away, that sort of thing. I kind of got banged up here, though, can’t put a lot of weight on my ankle.” He rolled his eyes, leaving the statement hanging in the air for your response. 

“Oh!” Of course, you thought to yourself, you had no real reason to trust what he was saying. He didn’t look like a ranger, dressed in a black muscle shirt and dark green cargo pants. But you could tell he was having trouble standing. But then, that could be an act too… 

“Sure,” You finally decided. “Hang on.” You looked through the brush until you found a fallen tree branch. You lugged it over, dropping half down the bank and keeping it ancored under your foot. You held out your hand to him. He grasped just beyond your wrist, pulling up and using the branch and a foothold to push himself up. Once he was up on the upper bank, he tried to take a step. You could immediately see his ankle give out, crumbling like wet paper. He fell to his knees with an annoyed sound, catching himself on his palms. 

“You okay?” You said, retrieving the branch and not so subtly holding it in front of you. 

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” He tried to brush you off. You could see his entire calf was wrapped in bandages. It looked like some wound had reopened and was bleeding through. 

“What happened?” You ask, nodding to his leg. 

He looked down, growling at the red soaking through the bandages. “I have to get pretty close to some animals for my job. Checking tags or making sure they’re not hurting themselves. I thought I’d tranquilized a bear, but I guess he wasn’t all the way under.” 

“A bear?! You fought a bear?” 

He waved a hand at you. “I didn’t ‘fight a bear.’ I was just trying to get a blood sample and must have spooked him. He took a swipe at me. I’ll be fine.” 

“That sure doesn’t look fine.” You pointed to his bandage. 

He clicked his tongue. “Damn it.” 

You rung your hands around the branch. “I have a first aid kit. I’m pretty good at it. I could take a look if you want.” 

He practically snarled at you, trying to stand up again. “I don’t need some-” As he tried to put weight on his ankle, he let out a choked yelp, cutting into that tough guy persona he obviously was trying very hard to portray. He lost his balance, wheeling his arms. You dropped your branch, lunging forward just as he fell. You caught him under his arms, throwing your balance off. You both fell, you landing on your back. You groaned, rubbing the back of your head. Opening your eyes, you squeaked seeing his face so close to yours, bright red eyes locked on to yours. Your mouth suddenly went dry and your face went hot. He was practically pinning you down. 

His face burst into a blush as he threw himself off of you. He crossed his arms stubbornly.  Looking away, he said, “Yeah, fine. Maybe I need a new bandage.” 

“C-cool! Yeah! Great!” Well, at least you were pretty sure he wasn’t here to kill you. That would have been a pretty good opportunity. Unless he wanted to slay you with embarrassment, which seemed like a possibility. 

You silently checked out his ankle, spraying it out with antibacterial and put a fresh bandage on it. At this rate, you were going to run out of medical supplies before the week was over. 

“Hey,” You said in an effort to break the tension. You noticed the tips of his ears were still a blushed red. “I don’t suppose you know anything about the wolves around here?” 

His eyes snapped back to you, suddenly suspicious. “There haven’t been wild wolves in this area for over a hundred years.” 

You blinked. “Wait, no, that can’t be. There was a wolf at my cabin last night. It sounded like he was being attacked by another pack or something.” 

He looked at you hard. “There haven’t been wolves here in a long time. If you think you saw one, you didn’t.” 

You huffed. “I’m pretty sure I know what I saw, not to mention felt. He spent the night in my cabin.” 

“What kind of idiot lets a wolf spend the night in their cabin with them?” 

“Ha! So you admit it could have been a wolf!” 

“I didn’t say that!” 

You smiled, leaning back on your hands and looking out over the river. “It was fine though. He seemed trained or something. A little prickly, but he was hurt so I didn’t mind.” You heard him mutter something that sounded like “not prickly.” You continued, “He disappeared this morning, though. Around here. I’m kinda disappointed. It’s kind of lonely out here. But hey! I guess I have a new friend now!” You good naturally punched his shoulder. He winced and you just now noticed the fading bruise. “Oops. Sorry.” 

“Sure you are. And who said we were friends, anyway? You don’t even know my name.” 

Putting on your most welcoming smile (and trying not to grimace at his tone), you held out your hand. “(Y/N) (L/N), trapped out in the middle of nowhere for the foreseeable future for reasons I cannot currently disclose. Very nice to meet you.” 

He looked from your hand to your face a few times. He looked like he was turning something over in his head. Flexing his hand, he lifted it up and gripped yours strongly. You could feel the heat radiating from it, like he was a living space heater. “Bakugo. And that’s all you’re getting.” 

You fake pouted. “We will be friends, mark my words.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What were you doing out here anyway?” 

“I told you, I cannot currently discloses that information.” 

He huffed a laugh. “What, are you a spy or something? Lost princess?” 

If only, you thought. “Something like that.” 

“Hmm. You don’t have a fishing rod.” 

“Uh, yeah. I was kind of counting on my wolf friend to help me out. He did this thing where he just sort of whacked them out of the water.” You mimicked the motion in the air. 

“For the last time, there aren’t any wolves around here. Just drop it.” 

“Fine, fine. There wasn’t a wolf even though there definitely was. And I don’t know what I’ll do, exactly. I suppose I can survive on canned soup, saltines, and beans for however long I’m stuck out here.” 

“That’s disgusting.” He leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head and looking up at the clouds. “Alright, here’s what you do. You at least have a knife, right? Good. I’m going to teach you how to make a fish weir.” 

For the next hour, Bakugo talked you through cutting reeds and shaping them into a W-shaped trap in the river. According to Bakugo, the V-like entrance made it easy for fish to get in, while the indented center made it hard or impossible to get out. After some (a lot) of trial and error,  you successfully trapped a huge salmon. 

“I got one!” You yelled in excitement. “I got it!” 

“Good for you,” Bakugo said. “Now take your knife and stab it.” 

“Yeah, what?” 

“Right behind the gills.” 

“Uh, right, okay.” For a few blissful seconds there, you forgot you had to kill a fish to be able to eat it. Using another reed you cut for an unsuccessful weir, you pinned the fish to the side. Wincing, you stabbed the fish’s gills, trying to ignore how it flopped around the trap. Spearing it on your knife, you hoisted it out of the water, flicking it onto the bank. 

“Oh, gross, gross, gross, gross, gross!”  You flapped your hands. Bakugo laughed at your distress. You tried to ignore how much you liked the sound. “Oh, shut up. It’s my first time.” 

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Your first time, huh? Glad I could walk you through it.” 

You felt yourself flush. “Oh my god!” Without thinking too much about it, you speared another fish in the trap, using your knife to fling it. The half alive fish landed smack on his chest, flopping around in a mess of falling scales and fish slime. 

He sputtered, slapping it away. He snarled, “Hey!” 

You laughed, hands resting on your thighs. “What? Now we both have dinner.” 

Catching a few more and storing them in your cooler, Bakugo taught you how to make a box-like campfire. Creating a grill with your reeds, you roasted some of the fish over the fire, picking it off with your fingers. You both sat by the river and watched the sun set. 

Not wanting your time together to end, but becoming too aware of the late hour, you said, “I should probably get back to the cabin. Not sure I could find it in the dark.” 

Bakugo shrugged. He struggled to stand up, waving you off when you tried to help him. Taking a few separate steps, he gripped a low hanging branch from a tree. With a thunderous crack, he ripped the branch off. Pulling off a few twigs, he held it under his arm as a makeshift crutch. 

“Hey,” He said, not looking at you. It sounded like he was deliberating something. “If you ever need help, I’m usually at the fire watchtower. See? You can see the roof from here. It’s about two miles that way.” He pointed over the tree line. You could just make out the top of a brown corrugated roof. 

“Sure you don’t want to take any of these back?” You asked, motioning to the cooler of fish. 

“Naw. You need all the help you can get.” 

“Hey!” As he wandered off, you yelled to him, “Watch out for the wolves!”

“There aren’t any wolves!” 

“You’ll believe me eventually!” 

~~~ 

You methodically tapped your fingers against the mug you held, letting the heat of your hot chocolate seep into your fingers. You were sitting in a folding chair just outside the cabin, bat leaning against the chair’s arm. You were snuggled up in a heavy blanket, watching the fireflies dance through the heavy trees, trying to remember consolations. 

But really, if you were being honest with yourself, you were waiting for the wolf. 

It didn’t matter if Bakugo said he wasn’t real. You knew what you saw. Maybe he had escaped from some conservation area or zoo? And he seemed used to people, so maybe he was trained? But that didn’t explain the howls you heard as you tended to the wolf’s wounds. It definitely sounded like some rival pack was hunting him down. 

It broke your heart to think of him all alone and injured out there. 

As if called by your thoughts, a round of howling rose from the depths of the forest. You jumped to your feet. The hot chocolate sloshed from your mug, burning your hand. Frantically waving your hand to ease the burn, you didn’t notice the heavy foot falls until it was too late. You turned as the thumping was right behind you. 

It felt like you were hit by a train. Your breath left you with a ‘woomp.’ Falling hard, your arms came up to wrap around what had just barrelled into you, catching it like a football. You would like to say that you were more surprised than you actually were  when your fingers dug into thick fur and bursts of dog breath panted in your face. 

“Hey there, Golden Boy,” You said, rubbing between his ears. You had decided on his name, Golden Boy, while trying to convince Bakugo of his existence. It seemed apt given his brilliant coat.  Your wolf friend yipped at you. Scrambling off, he crouched down in an attack position, growling at the trees. “Come on, bud.” You juggled your folding chair, blanket, bat, and (now empty) mug, pushing open the cabin door with your hip. The wolf backed into the cabin, eyes never leaving the tree line, lips curled into a snarl, until you closed and locked the door again. 

You took out a bowl from the cabinets. Opening a bottle of water, you filled up the bowl, placing it near the tired wolf. Crawling over on his stomach, he didn’t even lift his head as he started to lap at the water. 

“Yikes,” You said. “Rough night, huh?” You ran a hand along his back. He managed a half-hearted glare at you before deciding it wasn’t worth it and going back to his water. 

“So, you’re a wolf, right?” He ignored you, which is what you expected. But you always had a habit of talking to animals like they could talk back. “Because I met a guy today, yeah, I’m not the only person stranded out here, can you imagine, and he said there aren’t any wolves in this area. I mean, I guess you could just be a really big dog. You ever seen an Irish wolfhound? Probably taller than me. Or a Caucasian shepherd dog? I hear they used to breed those in Russia to hunt bears.

“I guess it’s kind of nice to have someone else around. Not that you’re not great company.” Could wolves roll their eyes? “Just… It can get kind of scary out here, you know? Well, probably not, you live in the woods and all. No offence and all, but this isn’t really my idea of a vacation.” 

You leaned against the wall, sitting cross-legged on your bed pallet. Golden Boy shuffled to you, resting his massive head in your lap while you checked his wound and changed the dressing. It seemed to be healing rapidly, way faster than you would have expected. 

“The truth is,” You continued. “I’m actually in hiding. There are some people who, uh, I’m pretty sure they want me dead. Maybe not me specifically. My dad made some bad choices, hey, that can be the title of my autobiography, and now I’m paying for it.” 

You felt your throat tighten up as a wave of emotion snuck up and crashed over you. You hiccuped, pressing your lips together as you tried not to cry in front of your canine audience. He looked up at you, wide, deep red eyes. Your eyes burned as tears threatened to spill out. 

Without warning, Golden Boy jerked his head up, wiping his long, wet tongue across your cheek, ineffectively wiping away your tears. You sputtered at the dog drool, breaking out into a giggle fit as he kept licking your face. 

“Okay, okay, I get it, stop already! I have a big, strong protector here to take care of me, huh?” He buried his head in your lap again. You  rubbed his ear between your fingers. “And I’ll take care of you, too. You know that, right? We’re in this together.” 

~~~

“Bakugo! I’ve come to pester you!” 

The next day, you awoke to find your wolf friend missing. You weren’t exactly sure how he managed to get out of the cabin since all the doors and windows were still securely closed, but you’d seen videos of pets doing weirder things. Maybe you should have named him Houdini. After cleaning up the cabin a little and finding a more stable storage space for the salmon you caught yesterday, a deep loneliness started gnawing at you. Stowing a tin of shortbread cookies under your arm, you set out in the direction of the river to find the watchtower Bakugo had pointed out to you yesterday. 

You finally found it about midday, only being scared to death at the possibility of getting hopelessly lost twice. You climbed up the high stairs to the box structure on top. The sides were made up of mesh screens, covered from the inside by thick curtains, you guessed so that he could keep an eye out for possible forest fires. 

“Hello? I brought an offering!” 

You heard some grumbling and banging around from inside the box. You heard a heavy lock slide open as the door cracked open. Bakugo’s ruby eyes met yours and you felt a pang of worry for your Golden Boy. 

“An offering, huh?” Smiling, you held up the tin. “Fine. I guess that’s a good enough reason to bug me.” 

You practically skipped inside. Bakugo pulled at the curtains causing them to zip up and spin on their rollers. The room was cluttered, which you mostly expected from going over to your bachelor friend’s houses. What you didn’t expect was exactly how it was cluttered. It wasn’t like clothes had been dropped on the floor and forgotten, a pile of dirty dishes and overflowing trash. The reality was more chaotic, like someone had turned over the place robbing it. Papers about the geography, flora, and fauna of the forest were strewn on every flat surface. The cot bed was stripped bare, looking like it hadn’t been slept in in days. There was a tall stack of books stacked on a table next to a wooden folding chair half pushed under a desk. A cork board was above the desk, red string connecting bits of cut-out newspaper articles, Polaroid photos, sticky notes with chicken-scratch handwriting, and marked-up calandras. 

Bakugo half-heartedly picked up a shirt from the ground. “Wasn’t really expecting company.” 

You shrugged. “You a big reader?” 

You set the cookie tin down, picking up one of the books. Its pages were marked with various colored tabs. Flipping through the pages, you saw blocks of text that had been highlighted. The book fell open to reveal a copy of a wood-cut illustration of a large man with a wolf head. His snout was pointed to the sky, jaw open in mid-howl. In his meaty hands, tipped with razor sharp claws, he cradled a woman in some medieval German peasant dress. Her head was fallen back, eyes rolled back in her head, a blood stain spreading across her neck and chest. In the background, a mass of angry villagers marched forward, armed with the standard torches and pitchforks. A bone white full moon hung overhead. 

Bakugo snapped the book closed in your hands. “Didn’t your parents teach you not to snoop through people's stuff?” 

“I wasn’t snooping,” You said defensively. “And just so you know, no, they didn’t. My folks weren’t exactly the etiquette type.” 

“Clearly.” 

“Hey!” 

He smirked at you, prying open the cookie tin and munching on a piece of shortbread. You sat down in the folding chair, looking down dubiously when it creaked under you. 

“So, how does a guy get a gig hanging out in the middle of the woods, anyway?” 

“How do you?” 

You pressed your lips, trying not to let Bakugo feel the sudden drop in your mood. You blinded him with a smile. “Maybe I just really like bird-watching.” 

“Sure. Bird-watching.” 

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Standing, you turned away and looked out the messy windows, taking in the acres upon acres of unspoiled wilderness. “Wow, you can see for forever up here.” Squinting, you saw the dip in trees around your cabin, the red roof just barely visible. “Hey, that’s my place!” You looked over your shoulder at him and winked. “You’re not spying on me, are you?” 

He popped in another cookie, wolfing it down in one bite. “You wish.” 

You hummed, looking back out over the trees. “Can you..” You trailed off. “Can you see if people come into the woods?” 

He came over to stand next to you, hiding the tin in the crook of his arm. “I don’t get records of who comes in or out, if that’s what you mean. That’s for the rangers at the front gates. I see campfires, sometimes. Need to make sure they don’t get out of control.” 

“And if someone, or, like, a group, maybe, was trying to sneak in? Like, not going through the front gates so there was no record of them being here?” 

He paused mid-bite and looked at you sideways. “You’re hiding.” 

You mock-laughed. “What? No, no. Of course I’m not hiding. Why would I be hiding?” 

“(Y/N),” He cut you off. He moved his head so you were forced to look directly into his ruby-red eyes. 

You crossed your arms and looked away. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.” 

He leaned back. “That’s okay. But, hey, we can look out for each other, yeah?” He curled his biceps, flexing his muscles. “Besides, you got a big, strong protector here, don’t ya? You don’t have anything to worry about.” 

“Big, strong protector, huh?” You echoed. 

He leaned closer, eyes half lidded. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Yeah.” 

You suddenly became away of how close you two were standing, how you could smell the remnants of the sweet cookies on his breath, about how soft his hair looked and thinking about what it might be like to run your hand through it, about how his muscles looked when he flexed them. 

You blinked hard, jerking yourself out of this impromptu daydream. You felt the tips of your ears burn as your face flushed. 

“The wolf came back last night,” You blurted. 

His eyebrows furrowed, mouth falling from a sultry smirk to a frustrated frown. “He did, huh?” 

“Yup! I named him, even. Golden Boy. Cause his fur is this really pretty yellow, you know? Kind of like your hair, but less shaggy.” Before you could stop yourself, you reached up and messed his bed-head. Good god, it was just as soft as you thought. 

He pulled away, scrunching his nose and fixing his hair. “Th-that’s stupid. Why would I look like some dog?” 

“So you admit he’s real?” 

“I said dog, not wolf. His owner probably just dropped him off in the woods somewhere. It’s sad, but it happens. Sounds like he’s doing alright for himself.” 

“I wouldn’t say that exactly.” You leaned on your elbows. “Every night he’s come to my cabin he’s been pretty beat up. Could another animal be targeting him? A bear or another wolf - sorry, abandoned dog?” 

Bakugo looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, maybe. There’s a lot of dangerous creatures out in those woods.” His voice dropped low. “A lot of dangerous creatures.” 

You looked over at the stack of books, the one with the werewolf illustration placed haphazardly on the top. “Like werewolves?” You joked. 

He didn’t answer you. 

~~~

“Buckle up, Golden Boy, we are going on a field trip.” 

It was night again a few days later. You’d spent almost two weeks in the woods by this point. Your days were mostly spent hanging out with Bakugo in the fire watch tower or hiking through the forest with him. He’d given you a blank mole-skin notebook. You’d started sketching and labeling plants and animals you saw on your hikes with him. He’d ramble off information he’d learned from preparing for this job. While your drawing skills needed some improvement, you liked the calm, methodical motions and scratch of pen on paper, taking note of the tiny details that made one plant safe to eat and different from the poisonous one. 

Your nights were spent with Golden Boy. His wound had long since cleared up, surprisingly fast, but don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all. You weren’t exactly sure why he kept coming to you at night. He obviously didn’t need any help finding food. Maybe he felt safer with you behind protective walls? A few times, you thought you saw reflective eyes in the depths of the trees, watching as you let Golden Boy inside the cabin as the moon rose. Or maybe he really did used to be someone’s pet and just felt lonely abandoned out here. He’d always be gone by the time you woke up, no matter how many times you’d fallen asleep leaning against him or curled under your arm. 

You’d also  kept arguing his existence to your hot-headed friend. Tonight, you finally decided to prove yourself right. You were going to bring your proof right to his front door. 

“Come on,” You said, clapping your hands at the wolf lounging by the fire. “You’re going to help me rub some sweet ‘I told you so’ in a cute guy’s face.” He raised his head at you, giving you a look you had come to read from his doggy face. “What? He is. Or maybe I’ve just been stranded in the woods for too long.” You shrugged. Golden Boy let out his ‘you’re ridiculous’ puff of air noise and flopped over so the fire could warm his belly. You took two quick steps forward and rubbed your hand over his belly, it sinking into the thick fur. He let out a surprised yip and curled up, nipping at your hand before licking it and resigning himself to your attention. 

You laughed, heading back to the door. “Come on! I haven’t gone hiking at night before. Think of all the cool nocturnal animals I can record in my journal. And I need my bodyguard, right? It’ll be fun-“ 

You cut yourself off. You opened the door, freezing as you came face-to-face with a fist, poised to knock. Looking past the fist, your throat went dry, heart dropping into your stomach, head going fuzzy. A man stood there in an expensive looking suit. He looked a little surprised, then flashed a wide used-car-salesman smile. One of his teeth was golden. You could see scars criss-crossing his knuckles and up one of his cheeks. His hair was practically a helmet with all the pomade in it. 

“Well, hello there!” He said, chipper. That somehow made it worse. “I don’t suppose you’re (Y/N) (L/N), are you?” 

The door blurred as you slammed it shut. Just before it closed, the man stopped it with his hands, which now seemed way too large and strong. You tried pushing it closed, but your muscles, even flooded with the adrenaline shooting through your veins, were no match for his. 

You stumbled backward as he threw the door open. You saw several more equally if not more menacing men behind him. One was rolling up his sleeves, one checking the knuckle-dusters shining on his hands, one methodically fiddling with the safety on a gun. 

You backed away, stopping when the back of your calves nudged into Golden Boy, who was now standing, a low growl emanating from his throat. 

“Hey there, pup,” The smiling man said. He leaned down, rubbing his fingers together to encourage Golden Boy to come forward. Your wolf just snapped his fangs. “Aw, well. You hate hurting animals, but sometimes it’s just a hazard of the job.” He drew out a long hunting knife from a sheath shoved in his belt loop. It glistened in the fire light. 

You were going to throw up. 

“I don’t know anything,” You said, hating the waver in your voice. How could you have become so comfortable, so careless? Where the hell was your bat? “I don’t know where my dad is, I don’t know where your money is. I don’t know anything, I promise.” Tears were blurring your vision, stinging the back of your eyes. 

“I’m sure you don’t, sweetheart,” He said. The other men crowded in through the door. The cabin suddenly felt ten times smaller. “But, you know, loose ends.” 

Yellow blurred in your vision. Golden Boy flashed in front of you, powerful jaws clamping down on the man’s knife hand. He yowled in pain and shock, the knife clattering to the floor. The other men were stunned for a moment before lunging forward. One hit Golden Boy hard on the back of his head, another grabbing his back legs and yanking hard. Golden Boy kept his death-grip, red oozing from his mouth. 

You scrambled backward, head whipping around to look for your bat. It now felt woefully useless. There, cast off in a corner. You’d been using it to dry dish towels. 

It felt like 100 pounds in your hands. 

You heard an unsettling thump followed by a yelp. Whipping around, you saw the man had managed to dislodge Golden Boy, throwing him against the wall. You cried a broken noise. You felt a hand grab the scruff of your neck. You jammed the bat behind you, connecting with the soft bulge of the man’s stomach. He “oof”ed and his grip loosened. You flung yourself forward, landing hard on your knees, and scrambled up. The door was wide open, the men temporarily distracted. You didn’t think twice. 

You shot up, sliding like a baseball player going to home plate in front of Golden Boy. You held your bat in front of you like Excalibur itself. 

“Don’t you fucking touch my dog!” You’d never said anything with such venom in your voice, but you still didn’t feel like it was enough to appropriately express your rage. Golden Boy shook his head, getting back to his feet. He stood by your side, head lowered between his shoulders, baring his teeth stained with blood. 

The smiling man, who was now scowling in disgust, wrapped his bleeding hand with a way too expensive handkerchief. “God, typical. I hate dogs. Let’s hurry up and finish this.” 

The one with the gun raised it, pointing it right between your eyes. You stood fast, gripping the bat so hard your hands were turning white. 

You wanted to see Bakugo. It hit you like lightening that that was who was coming to your mind. You wanted to say something to him, an explanation of why you wouldn’t wake him up tomorrow morning. You wanted to make him promise he would take care of Golden Boy, after making him admit that you were right about the wolves. You wanted to hug him, to go on a walk someplace other than the woods, you wanted to cook a real meal in a real kitchen with him, you wanted to wake up in the morning with him at your side, Golden Boy at your feet. 

You wanted so many things you knew you wouldn’t be getting. So you had to focus on what you could get. You wanted Golden Boy to get out of here, to be safe. And by hell or high water, you were going to do that. 

You swung the bat back, aiming for the gunman’s wrist. You would knock the gun out of his hand, grab Golden Boy, kick him if you had to, get him out the door to get a head start. You’d probably get shot in the back doing it, but maybe the loud noise would startle him into running away. As long as he was safe, what else mattered? 

One second you were staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, making peace with yourself. The next, the gun was gone, and so was the man. Blinking, you looked around to see where he had disappeared to. The other men, equally baffled, didn’t have time to react as they were tackled to the ground along with their firearm friend. 

Golden Boy was in front of you, pushing you back by leaning his weight against your legs. You watched as your tiny cabin filled with giant wolves, gray, red, black, brown, all with flashing fangs and claws. One man with a knife reared up, pulling his arm back to throw the knife at you. Materializing out of thin air, a new man, one you hadn’t seen before, appeared behind him, catching the first in a headlock and pulling him down until he went limp in a choked-out sleep. 

The new man snarled, whipping his head around to stare right into your soul. And he was naked. How did you not notice that? The man looked like he threw full grown trees around for fun, and cut them down for work. Every inch of skin, and there was a lot of skin, had some scar tissue or mark indicating a life of hard-scraps. 

His eyes snapped down to Golden Boy, still setting himself firmly between you and the raucous crowd. The man jerked his head to the open door. “Wait outside,” He said, voice unbelievably gruff and low. “We’ll take care of this.” 

“Okay?” You said, voice loose. You felt like you were going to faint. You grounded yourself with a tug on your sleeve. Looking down, you saw Golden Boy, his teeth gently closed around your sleeve. He somehow managed to avoid looking at you, pulling you on unsteady feet out in the cool night air. He kicked the door shut with his hide leg as soon as you were out. 

All of your energy left you at once. You slumped against a tree, forehead leaning on your knees and blood rushing back into your hands as you dropped your bat. You sat there, still save for the involuntary tremors that racked your body, for who knows how long. 

You heard a quiet whimper. Peeking your eyes through your fingers, you saw Golden Boy. He was pacing, eyes downcast and tail tucked between his legs. He was limping a little, his old wound bothered in no small part due to being bodily thrown against the wall. 

“Hey,” You said softly. He jerked to a stop and looked up at you, bringing his eyes back down in a guilty expression. “It’s okay. Come here.” You held your hands out, palms up and fingers splayed. He trotted over to you, resting his enormous head in your hands and laying down, his chest pressing on your legs. You buried your face in the thick fur on the back of his neck. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” 

When the cabin door creaked open, panic seized your adrenaline abandoned muscles. Your hand shot to the bat, its strange weight now frighteningly familiar. Golden Boy barely stirred in your lap, only lazily opening his eyes and shifting closer to you as if hiding from some sort of punishment. 

The burly man stepped out first, still naked, you (unfortunately) noticed. He had two yakuza members with him, one slung over each shoulder, limp and unmoving. Next came three huge wolves, one of them walking backward while pulling along another gang member by the cuff of his pants. A woman came out with him, also naked, with the longest hair you had ever seen, similarly scuffed and scraped as the first man. She was followed by two more wolves. The strange group dumped the bodies of your attackers in a haphazard pile near the tree line. Were they dead? You couldn’t tell. God, which option was better? 

The man stretched, thick cords of muscle rippling under his skin. He sighed, like a tired parent, and turned to you. You cut your gaze away quickly, making sure to keep your eyes above a certain level. 

“Are you badly hurt?” His voice was the same low rumble of an earthquake. 

“Um, no. I-I think we’re okay. Thank you.” 

He hummed, rolling his shoulders. “No thanks necessary. We stand for our own, no matter the pack.” 

“I’m sorry, pack?” You asked, voice squeaking. Your brain was working overtime to process everything. 

“Hmph.” The man looked disappointed but not surprised. He nudged Golden Boy with his foot. The wolf whined again, turning his head away. “You still can’t shift on command? How are you meant to lead your pack when you can’t do the most basic things?” Golden Boy whined and grumbled. 

“I-what? What does any of this have to do with my dog?” You wrapped your arms protectively around him. 

The man quirked an eyebrow. “A wolf without a pack is a dangerous thing. A lone creature who can’t even control his own body needs to be culled. Now that he has found a pack, he has a greater responsibility. He’s part of a whole, not only himself.” 

“Hang on-” You tried to stand up only for Golden Boy to shove his weight down on you harder. “Were you the ones hurting Golden Boy? What’s the matter with you? Why would you hurt an animal? And, sorry, but why are you naked? I tried not to say anything but it’s kind of bothering me a lot.” 

The man stared you down, looking back to your wolf. “You didn’t tell her anything?” Golden Boy whined. The man sighed. “This will be more difficult than I thought. Our pack must move. We’ve completed our duty.We’ll deal with this… refuse.” He looked at the unconscious yakuza. He nudged Golden Boy again. “Take care of this one. He has a lot to learn.” 

The man turned, a yell building in your throat. In front of your eyes, he shifted, skin sprouting silver gray hair. You heard the pop of bones as the man seemed to fall over, but you quickly realized his entire body structure had changed. Where a person had once stood, a wolf walked. The woman from before was also gone, now just the group of wolves. The gray wolf looked back at you, nodding once, before raising up a howl with the rest of his pack. 

When you finally managed to feel your heartbeat slow to a non-life-threatening level, you looked down. “Alright, we have a lot to talk about, because apparently you can do that?” Golden Boy turned away from you. “Yeah, alright, nap first. Nap sounds good.” 

You passed out. 

~~~ 

You woke up with a headache knocking at your temples. Your mouth felt thick with cotton. You felt warm, gradually taking note of the blanket that had been carefully draped over you. Blearily opening your eyes, you watched dust motes float through shafts of light that filtered through the curtains on your cabin windows. You must have forgotten to dose the fire before you went to bed. It was still crackling in the fireplace. 

“Golden Boy?” You said, voice craggy. Why were you still wearing your day clothes? “Yout there, bud?” 

A knuckle rapped gently on your forehead. “Exactly how hard did you hit your head?” 

You shot up, immediately regretting it as pain flared up your spine to bloom in your skull. “Whoa, hey, take it easy.” A pair of hands steadied your shoulders, helping you sit up. 

You blinked hard, looking up into now familiar red eyes. “Bakugo?” 

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can call me Katsuki now, you know. I think we’re close enough, after everything.” 

“Everything-? Oh. Oh! Oh my god!” You tried to jump up, knees giving out underneath you. Your limbs felt like they were encased in lead. 

“I told you to take it easy, dumbass,” Bakugo, Katsuki, said. He caught you before you fell, helping you sit back down. He stood up, going to the stove and sliding a pancake on top of a stack, still steaming. Pulling half onto a separate plate, he came back, handing one to you.

Numbly, you took it, tearing a piece off and shoving it in your mouth. “You have pecans in here.” 

“We didn’t have any syrup, so I thought this would be a good substitute. Having pancakes on their own is kind of boring.” 

“Sure. Yeah. So.” You let it hang there, watching him avoid your eyes and much on pancakes. 

He swallowed. “So.” He ate half of another one before continuing. “I’m a werewolf.” 

You blinked. “Okay.” 

He scowled. ‘There it is,’ You thought. “‘Okay’? That’s all you have to say?” 

You shrugged. “I mean, what else am I supposed to say? I’m pretty sure a group of werewolves saved my life last night. I literally saw a guy turn into a wolf, so that checks out. I might still be in shock a little bit, to be honest. So, uh, werewolf, huh?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes and shoving another pancake in his mouth. You cracked a smile and joked, “Well, you sure eat like a dog.” He punched your shoulder. You both laughed anyway. 

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” He said eventually. “I don’t think anyone does. I got bit by a rogue wolf. Turned pretty soon after. I’m not going to lie, I did some pretty bad stuff. I was freaked out, half out of my mind, those wolf instincts kicking in. It’s not an excuse, but… I got a job out here, thought I could isolate myself, research to see if I could find a cure or something. The pack found me almost immediately. I mean, I practically waltzed right in to their territory, so I can’t blame them. That rule they have, it’s true. A lone werewolf, someone without a pack, they’re dangerous. Unpredictable. They tried to… put me down. I usually managed to get away, but one night I made a stupid mistake. I should have died.” He looked up at you. “And then I ran in to you.” 

“And then you ran in to me.” You reached out, petting your hand through his hair. It was still soft, whether as a golden wolf or a human. “So, I’m your pack now? That’s what that guy said, the other werewolf. What does that mean, exactly?” 

He blushed, pulling apart his remaining pancakes. “A pack is like a family. They look out for each other, stand with each other. I didn’t tell them we were a pack or anything. I guess they just sort of inferred. Since, like, we’ve been spending a lot of time together, no matter what form.” 

You grinned. “They think you’re my boyfriend?”  He punched you again, with less malice this time. “Hey, I didn’t say I minded.” 

“It’s a lot,” Katsuki continued quickly, the words all rushing out as if he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to say it all. “I still don’t know a lot about all this. I always shift at night. I’m trying to get better at controlling it, but it’s hard. And it’s hard to go through all the history and stuff and pull out fact from fiction. I feel like I can’t control anything and I’m so fucking useless and I-“ 

You pressed your lips against his. Finally. His lips were chapped, and your teeth clacked together at first, but the warmth that spread through your chest made it all worth it. A plate clattered against the floor as he shifted closer to you. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, bringing you closer. Your fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt, pulling. 

He pulled back, your breath mixing together. 

“I think I like the woods, now,” You said, softly. “It’s nice out here. Good company.” He chuckled, lowley. “And I like you. A lot. And I love dogs.”

He laughed loudly, once, before pulling you back in for another kiss.