#something about the domesticated ripping apart the feral

[jack-a-lass]

When I was in primary school I saw a dead pigeon being eaten by the school's chickens.

[vole-mon-amour]

Thinking about Astarion shapeshifting into a cat. "I'm so tired. How do people do this all day?" Thinking about him riding on Halsin's shoulder and barely weighting anything to Halsin as a cat, and this way he doesn't actually have to walk all the way. Thinking about Astarion snuggling up on Halsin's shoulder or in the crook of his neck while Halsin maybe does some whittling. Bonus points if he manages to doze off while they're on the road. Halsin walks and Astarion sleeps.

And when it's battle time, thinking about Astarion being shapeshifted into a snow leopard or a white panther (or another large wild cat with deadly fangs and claws so that he can literally make their enemies bleed with a hit of his paw and overpower them with his body if it's something that needs to happen.) Four legs with sharp claws, fangs to rip apart the enemies' throats and a mighty tail that helps his balance.

Thinking about a shapeshifted bear and a domesticated, once feral cat sleeping on him. And maybe he's still feral, just not with Halsin. He can still bite and scratch and claw up someone's clothing and run away just as fast. He can still make others bleed—sometimes he means to because he doesn't like them that much, sometimes he just doesn't know his own strength.

Thinking about a shapeshifted bear and his boyfriend in a shape of an albino serval next to each other. Thinking how wild, yet beautiful they look together and how they both love just chilling in this form. How Astarion sometimes snuggles next to his bear—because Halsin loves that form, because he sometimes relaxes so much that he turns into his "natural" form and Astarion just embraces that.

I feel like an albino serval is definitely a shape that can suit Astarion very well (with maybe a white nose as well and red eyes so it matches his vampiric eyes). What a wonderful couple those two are.

P.S.: An au in which druids can turn others into animals, with some boundaries like turning them bc of a request or if it's their loved one so there's at least some restraint and completely strangers don't turn other complete strangers knot animals? A polymorph scroll that can turn another into an animal of their choose and not only a sheep?

Or maybe both. Both can also be good.

UPD: Kinda OOC/AU, but what if Astarion was a druid/could wildshift himself? Two boyfriends chilling. <3

[moongreenlight]

ok ok so about this post:

https://www.tumblr.com/moongreenlight/729759450340130816/headcanons-for-captain-john-price-and-his-very

i was reading it while listening to mozart’s requiem: confutatis maledictus

https://youtu.be/hN7DZhGNCxY?si=knTn38X98KovFvzL

and i was thinking what if the age gap is the same BUT reader was also military?

like this sweet little thing who dresses in pretty, dark red cherry print skirts used to have the same dark red splotches of blood on their uniform in the field. reader who’s a bit deranged, who plays the strings on her violin until the deep indents on her fingertips threaten to cut and bleed. a bit strange reader who immediately snaps her head to the slightest out of place sound on her private garden, face dropping from her stepford smile into a focused scowl. loose screwed reader who demands the cook to cook the same dish 4 times on a random thursday because it didn’t taste like the same as when he prepared it 4 months ago. bit rabid reader who keeps her staff dogs on a tight leash, including her husband, demanding things to be done on her standards. pretty show cat reader who hisses and scratches when john doesn’t greet her with the same amount of joy at the door when he has a bad day at work.

this cat, no matter how pampered and spoiled, never fully became domesticated to be a house cat, still feral under her shiny new coat. her new appearance however, is truly just a guise over her rabid tendencies. god forbid john ever pushes readers buttons because his things will get destroyed, his ego deflated, his paperweights cracked, his uniforms ripped at the seams, sturdy until needed, his pens lacking any more ink, fountain pen nibs bent ever so slightly, furniture moved every so slightly, hair and facial appointments cut in half and only being once a week.

i just LIVE for deranged!reader. i love love love it when reader is the crazy one too who feeds and takes ideals from her husband 😼😼😼

Katz I am almost certain you read my rough draft for these Headcanons because I swear to you I almost wrote reader like this. Your mind. You also know I’m a sucker for an animal comparison you literally forced me to write this. :’(

I am a crazy bitch SYMPATHIZER. She is me I am her. It takes a lot of me not to write every reader as a little off their fucking rocker but I’m glad you’re endorsing this.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

He probably takes a liking to you shortly after you start training. Catches you tearing into one of your bunk mates viciously for leaving one (1) sock on the ground next to their hamper. Doesn’t bother to break it up, just immediately goes back to his office and figures out who your training officer was and how quickly he could get you switched into his group.

He pulls rank on Soap to get him to agree to let you switch over. He doesn’t look happy about it, but he huffs and agrees to take a significantly less advanced rookie in exchange for you. Completely unfair trade, but Price is over the moon about it.

He doesn’t come off too strong at first because you’re young. Just turned twenty and joined the military to get loans for uni. He knows he’s much too old for you.

But still, he lets his hands linger on your waist when he’s correcting your posture, kicks your feet apart and plants his leg between yours when he’s teaching you how to properly handle a shotgun. Hears his other rookies complaining about you being favored by him because you’re the only one he’ll compliment during sessions.

Doesn’t even bother saying anything about the rumors spreading because you beat him to the punch- sometimes literally. Like he’s fairly certain you shot the worst offender in the foot on purpose during a mission to shut them up.

A few months go by with no real progress and no real payout until one day after training he wanders back to his office and finds you already sitting there waiting for him. You say something about how you’re hoping to advance pretty quickly after training, you wonder if he sees any potential in you. Lean over his desk and bat your lashes and ask what he thinks about giving you some private lessons, only if he has time of course. He nearly passes out.

And then a year later you’re married. He doesn’t have time to dick around, nor does he want to, and he now knows you well enough to know that you’ll throw a proper tantrum if things aren’t done exactly to your liking, so sure, it was a quick turnaround, but you really did love each other.

I think he asks a few times if you’ll leave the service, and you shut him down immediately. Scowling and pulling a face at the suggestion. Saying no just to say no. And then you go spent like $600 at the shops with his card. So he learns to keep his mouth shut and just supplement you with the life he wants you to have until you come to your own decision to be discharged.

And while you’ve grown accustomed to your new plush life, you never quite lose your fire. Truly, you’re a feral little thing turned prized show cat. You let him dote on you and provide you with all the finer things in life. Let him preen you and dress you up and play his perfect little wife. Oftentimes gives people the impression he’s got you tucked under his thumb when the reality of the situation is quite the opposite.

You let him play captain when you visit him at work or when he brings the boys over for drinks. Smile and stay relatively quiet tucked in by his side when you’re hosting dinner. Put on a nice outfit and a big smile when he introduces you to his chain of command during holiday parties and outings. You’ve gotten quite good at playing domestic.

But you like things exactly how you like them. Very particular about your life and your house and the people in it. You make it abundantly clear that it’s your way or no way at all.

Lounging out by the pool in the back while the landscapers work and noticing as they’re trying to slip out the gate that they didn’t properly trim the grass around the perimeter of the fence, so you storm out after them and hiss and yowl your complaint until they fix their mistake. Making a spectacle in your tiny bikini in front of the whole neighborhood until they finally correct the issue. Then you shake off any irritation and flash them a bright smile and offer your thanks like nothing had happened.

Hovering around the cook in the kitchen irritatingly close after you’ve asked them to prepare a dish that your mother used to make when you were a child. Peeking over their shoulder and punctuating their work with comments and corrections that are presented like suggestions, but everyone understands they’re demands. Going so far as to dump their progress in the trash when they’re not following your instruction well enough.

Sending John to work for two weeks straight with an empty bag that was supposed to hold his lunch because you’d asked him to please stop kicking off his mucked up work boots directly in front of the front door when he got home and he didn’t. Not even bothering to make up an excuse as to why you wouldn’t be coming to base when he called to ask if you’d bring him food. Simply saying no and ending the call no matter how many times he apologized.

Spilling his mug of tea over paperwork if you felt like he wasn’t paying you enough attention. Even if you were sat on his lap and obstructing his view of his desk.

Growing agitated with his working late so you go up to base when you know he’s out training and locking all of the drawers and cabinets in his office. Wearing the key on a dainty chain around your neck and telling him he can only have it back once you feel like he’s gotten his priorities straight. Calling in the aid of a handyman to bolt the mail slot on his door shut so he had no excuse to be doing any excess work.

Pulling a duchess from Wolf of Wall Street and wearing tiny little dresses with no underwear. Intentionally bending at the waist in front of him and leaning over his desk with your elbows pushed together in front of you when he’s done something to piss you off. Batting his hand away when he tries to grope you.

Or what felt like the worst punishment of all to him- making a point of being in the shower when he came home. Not giving him the pleasure of giving you the lush bubble baths he loved so much. Sometimes just sitting in the bathroom with the water running until you heard the front door swing shut and turning it off. Coming out wrapped in a towel that barely covered you. water beading on your shoulders. Sauntering away from him with your tail flicking back and forth when he tried to voice his protest.

He’s infinitely patient with you. Mostly because he is absolutely infatuated, but also because he knew what he was getting into when he married you. He’ll correct you when you go too far for his liking. Maybe pull you over his knee and make you apologize for how you acted until he feels like you mean it. Giving you a mean swat to the ass every time you’re snarky or flat out refuse. Sometimes gets fed up with your smart mouth and shoves his cock down your throat for a few hours to remind you that speaking is a privilege and not a right. Or he’ll parade you around the house fully nude. Maybe forcing you to crawl around on all fours like the feral cat you are in front of all the staff (or the task force boys) just to remind you of your place. Has you curl up on the sofa next to him, even though the whole time you’re pouting like you didn’t do anything wrong. Looks at you over his newspaper with a mock-sympathetic smile but says nothing until you decide to get over your anger and settle in his lap. Purring while he smooths a hand over your hair.

[yanderenightmare]

could we ask about what hawks is like in bed? 👉👈 please

Hawks - Takami Keigo

TW: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, yandere

NEEDY DOM

Keigo is a neutral type of guy most days, but he'll take and take like it’s his god-given right to.

He’ll demand you be on his every beck and call.

He’ll expect you to be in the kitchen cooking for him, for you to smile and giggle when he nuzzles into the nook of your neck while you stand and stir the pot to his chicken soup. All the while he's humping into you from the back, hands fingering the string to your cute housewife apron, placing kisses on your neck. Your daily marking.

He'll expect you to come and greet him at the door with a big smile and a sparkle in your eyes, hug him close with a kiss to his cheek while taking his jacket from him and welcoming him home, asking him how his day was, what villains he took down, fuss over what scars he’s collected, guiding him inside to the heavenly smell of dinner waiting for him.

He expects the traditional domestic dream. For you to be the perfect sweet housewife waiting for your husband to come back home from work. Seeing to his every need, cooking and cleaning and prancing about in your poofy wide-skirt dresses, apron-clad with a pretty bow tying it together at the small of your back. Stripping it on command. 

Be aware. If you think chores and expectations are the worst of what you’ve got in for yourself... you’re dearly mistaken.

Being peppered in kisses and thrown about in his arms is just as normal as noticing his feathers lifting up your skirt when your prance around the house.

Keigo’s hungry gaze lingers on your every move. The hormonal animal is a horny spaz all day long, but he’s absolutely feral in those needs when his rut rolls around.

You can smell it in the air when you should start worrying.

Talons rip apart your thin lingerie, tugging at your body, forcing you beneath him to meet his every sharp thrust as he pounds mercilessly with a desperate resolution into your poor pussy.

His wings, frayed and static, hunched in dominance on his back. Hair wild with eyes just as livid. Pinning you down in a bruising fashion. Allowing you no ounce of movement, growling at you when you try something as innocent as shifting for comfort.

Keeping you still until he’s emptied himself fully inside you, fucked you good and thorough, bred you unconscious.

[lavender-long-stories]

Part 2 What He Left Behind

Okay, I am not normal about Sasuke here.

Feral.

It's just. Just. He is so attentive, you know? He notices shit, and he talks about it without being judgy. And he calls the apartment [their home], he makes Hinata feel comfortable to be herself without fear, he calls her a fucking savage bunny I'm going to hit someone over with a car- I will fucking cry.

I love how Sasuke does the bare minimum, and you're foaming at the mouth. Men need to be attentive, not judge, call living their situation 'home', not cause fear, and tease her eating style.

The bar is on the floor.

Also, Sasuke struggling to be savage with the wings? Poetic cinema.

Have you ever tried to rip the meat of a wing without nails? It's slippery shit. How does Hinata do it?

I FORGOT HINATA MADE SASUKE BLUSH AND I AM DYING BC IT CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD!! 

Being cute is a powerful weapon.

“It doesn’t have to be, but you know some guys think single moms are hot.” Sasuke woke up one day and said "milf rights", I guess.

XD XD XD XD

Hinata described Sasuke as someone simple, someone who is more likely to do give something you need than something pretty for the sake of it, and this is pretty much how he treated her so far. Their bonding moments were all in the comfort of their own home, he gave her the things she needed from safety to respect to the fucking crib. He treated her this way without expectations besides being treated simply, as well.

Sometimes love just needs to be pure quality time.

And when Sasuke described what kind of person would like to date her, this sneaky little shit also described himself

Hahaha at this point neither of them was really aware of what was happening, but I love that you thought that Sasuke was pitching himself ahhahahahahah

I love two dense idiots being like 'this kind of person is perfect for you' and neither of them making the connection of 'wait that's just you...'

Hinata's saga in the pregnancy classes or whatever that was was so fucking entertaining, girlie was so angry and Sasuke was so amused.

I think that people forget how petty Sasuke could be as a kid. I think it makes for dumb fun. I will always add being needlessly petty in my stories, even if it's against a gaggle of pregnant women.

"He came into the smell of… ramen, which was concerning." BOOOOY YOOOO and back to zero we go

Lulled you into a false sense of security and pulled the rug back out. XD

What He Left Behind

Pairing: Sasuke x Hinata Rating: T

Description: When Sasuke is confronted with an abandoned pregnant Hinata, he does the only thing he can think to do, he takes her in. Strangers to friends. Friends to lovers.

Tags: Pregnancy  |  Romance  |  Domestic Fluff  |  Happy Ending  |  Fluff and Angst  |  Hurt/Comfort

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Metzli Bernal Species: Vampire Occupation: Artist / Art Curator Age: 160 Years Old (Looks about 32) Played By: Jojo Face Claim: Roberta Colindrez

"Art speaks for you when nothing else can."

TW: Emotional abuse, domestic abuse, parental death, torture

Metzli Bernal was born in Jalisco, Mexico in 1862 to a carpenter, Baltazar Bernal, and his wife, Guadalupe Bernal. The family lived in the small, quaint town of Teocaltiche, in a run-down house that Baltazar found and renovated into a humble dwelling. There was always work, but the money never really made a difference with bills, an unexpected newborn, and the growing presence of what the town believed to be a gang. This meant that every peso was stretched and an abundance of food became a luxury, leaving the family to struggle.

Poverty came with its frustrations, resulting in Metzli receiving both physical and emotional abuse as punishment for any and all misbehavior, or rather, whatever annoyed their parents that day. Metzli learned quickly what it meant to overcome, adapting constantly to the adversities that came with their parents' stress. It was with this that Metzli sought comfort, and found it in illustrating and painting.

Scrounging what little money they were given for the help they’d give their father on jobs, they purchased pencils, paints, and a notebook, which they took wherever they went. Any chance they got, especially when they were set free from the basement, Metzli ventured around the town and its woods to find beautiful subjects. This was their means of escape from the atrocities at home, and it did well to shape their love for the arts.

On one particular day though, Metzli returned from the woods, only to find Teocaltiche’s citizens being torn apart, and homes being destroyed by what seemed to be feral people. Watching in horror, Metzli saw as the monsters bit into and drained people right before their eyes, motivating them to bolt home. Despite what their parents had done to them, they couldn’t help but worry, fear that their family was in danger. 

Metzli reached their home, just barely escaping detection, and found several vampires feeding on their parents. For what seemed like hours, all they could do was stare fearfully, until all signs of life left their eyes. Without even a chance to run, Metzli was attacked by those same vampires, prompting them to fight for their life. No matter how hard they fought though, they were eventually overtaken and bitten, about to meet the same ending as their parents, until a man named Eloy Coronado stepped in. With a wave of his hand, the vampires retreated, and he smiled down at their blood-soaked body, just barely hanging onto life. “Such resolve and determination. How refreshing,” Was the last thing Metzli heard before everything went black. 

Metzli woke up days later in white-hot pain, surprised to find that their wounds were healed and they were no longer home. But, that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Laughter echoed around them as Eloy approached them, happy to see his new recruit made it through the change. From then on, Metzli was forced to fit a mold that Eloy felt suited his needs the best, becoming a powerful part of the clan. They became a numb soldier, a murderer on call for whatever their master needed. They felt nothing, and really, they made themself believe that was fine, that it was better. Even physical pain did very little, proven when Eloy ripped part of their arm away as punishment for failing a mission. 

There was so much pain before, and Metzli began to think that they liked being free of it, even if it came at the cost of losing touch with everything else. That was a small price to pay. They were better off numb and needed to submit to this new, monstrous life, even if they knew their life was meaningless. But art, on the other hand, was something they couldn’t let go of. It still held a place in their heart that still sparked some sort of past humanity, much to Eloy’s dismay. He began to resolve the issue, little by little, and soon enough the emotion creating art ignited, slowly faded. Until it was nothing and they were just a shell of a mindless soldier. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and after over a century of Eloy’s terror, they planned their escape. It took months, but finally a coup was coordinated, and Metzli and their own army of vampires attacked Eloy, killing him.

With their newfound freedom, and a push to leave Mexico, Metzli traveled the U.S. and found Wicked’s Rest. The town was perfect, pulling them in until they settled in and opened a gallery where they could curate other’s artwork, including their own, whenever they deemed a work worthy of being displayed. This has given them a faint spark again, but they were still uncomfortably numb. Now they’re beginning to wonder where did Eloy’s erasure of their emotions begin and end, and when did they begin to do it themself? Metzli was feeling more with each passing day, but it has since plateaued, causing them to wonder if they would ever be able to comprehend the full spectrum of emotion, or even express them correctly. 

Regardless, Metzli is determined everyday to live their life fully and give their life meaning—if there was one to be found, that is. They invest this determination primarily through their gallery, painting and analyzing incoming pieces to ensure authenticity. Sadly, with their line of work, people take to either stealing the art, or simply cash in a piece’s worth, utilizing fakes. This meant people attempted to forge well-known art, claiming it to be legitimate. Attacking them for money was one thing, but forging artwork was blasphemous. Nothing got past their eyes, and in a strange town like Wicked’s Rest, they could hand out the appropriate punishment: death by their bite. And why waste their blood? Metzli would never let that go to waste. Besides, it was always better to sate their hunger. Keep it under control. What blood tasted sweeter than bad blood anyway? Metzli does recall having a sweet tooth.

Character Facts:

Personality: Nihilistic, Pessimistic, Stoic, Loyal, Deadpan, Passionate, Honest, Curious, Quiet, Witty

Usually has a dry sense of humor and doesn’t understand most jokes. They just want people to speak plain. 

Expressionless and hard to read, but the occasional smile does happen.

Had their left arm torn off by their Sire, Eloy Coronado.

Has started developing the ability to compel, and they only use it when extremely necessary as they don’t want to be like their master.

Enjoys pranks, but their idea of them differs from most. Like making pictures askew or moving décor an inch off.

[cryptic-michael]

I really genuinely am thinking about Werewolf Micheal.

Like he knows he's a werewolf, and feels horrible for it. Just the idea that he loses control and well can rip people apart really gets to him. He's massive and it's a miracle he hasn't killed anyone yet...as far as he knows he hasn't.

So you have him, a MASSIVE but such a sweet thing.

He's, "House trained" as Lucy puts it.

"Grandpa!! Sman and Micheal can't help it!! And besides they're house trained and people trained! They won't do anything!! They just need to run around and eat more! You have plenty of wood and things for them to scratch on!!!"

"house trained? Werewolves?!! Lucy how comes your still fine!"

She doesn't answer that.

Obvously grandpa let's them stay and live.

But the lost boys have no idea that Micheal is a werewolf.

"yeah I'm kinda a dog person..."

"oh so you like dogs huh? Cool...." And they generally think he just really likes dogs is all.

Like he's not agressive towards them.. he "Acts like a dog" but so does Paul.

He smells "Like a dog" but after mentioning that he owns a dog well that's fine...he probably plays with it a bunch.

Not like the lost boys haven't seen Sam and Nanook around a few times.

But after a while we'll....he drank the blood and they didn't see him for today's, assuming he was very sick or taking it poorly.

"that wine was awful, it tasted wonderful but made me so sick you need to refrigerate that stuff or ice it you know..." He tells them and well they notice some changes or maybe Micheal is letting lose more.

It's not until around a full moon that they notice, which isn't far.

"A full moons coming up, and we do love a good full moon..."

"Oh I love full moons there so fun!!!!" He gets very excited not knowing the boys are vampires.

And well he gets a bit more....something alright around a full moon.

He's starving constantly, he needs to waft down so much food. He gets a bit more agressive but still so sweet, he's sooo clingy and demanding of head rubs and they just assume Micheal is going though...weird changes.

Until the full moon hits and Micheal is nowhere to be seen.

"Where is he??"

"dunno...said something about having to acutely need to babysit his brother...his mom's on a date with-"

"max yeah yeah we know max won't shut up...."

So they out for a hunt...

It was ment to be normal, and was, and they feed like usual, gorged a little bit it's allowed from time to time....but then a low howl, and just well....they expected a lot...a lot that night...

Not a massive wolf, a beastly feral creature, huge thing. It's snarling, growling, on all fours and yet on its hinds a lot as well. Huge it has them genuinely petrified with fear until it growls and let's out one last howl before barreling towards them...or well a body near them.

Must have been starving...

"FUCK ME!!!" Paul screamed and flew off, Marko was to follow and Dwyane...

David....he was stuck of all fucking things.

"DAVID! DAVID DONT MOVE!"

"EASY FOR YOU TO SAY YOU DONT HAVE THIS THING NEAR YOU!!" he's screaming.

He's pretty sure he's gonna die...but he doesn't.

The werewolf is massive but a beautiful sort of colour, even as it's sniffing the bow corps and searching for something, food probably. Which was funny because normally he'd assume most werewolves just got their own food....unless...

"Some get domesticated or refuse to eat humans unless starving or not enough food, those are still strong but weaker and often children and never make it far in life-" well David will be damned, he remembers something max lectured him about when he turned...

"H-He-Heey....hey...you hungry? Hmm? Hungry little fella? Starved huh?" Just some snarls and a very gross sound and look. It's not attacking him...thank god, since it's taller than him on all fours.

"Yeah~ yeah you're just a hungry boy huh?? Starved? Mommy not give you enough food-" a growl and it snaps at him, he see sits face. It has beautiful eyes that glow, and the fur is curly, or has a sort of curl to it, it's odd seeing it's mouth..snout? Mouth snout thing have blood near and around it...

It looks like a starved animal...its obvously just hungry, he remembers being that hungry..

"yeah just hungry huh? Good little doggie....good boy...yeah? Harmless? Want some pets hmmm? Yeah!! You like that?? Yeah...yeah hungry and want some loving hmm??" A low howl, and a little bark of approval as it lays down to get pets from David and he just eats it up.

David gives the hungry beast the slip and is sick. He thought he'd die. Everyone thinks he's some kind of "Werewolf whisper" now.

"Where the hell even is Micheal?! We gotta tell him! He's one of us now!"

"yeah he is...."

They go to find him....but well when they get to the Emerson house.

"We're friends of Micheal, is he in-" a loud crash and howling. "I'm sorry he's busy right now, and Nanook our dog is uhh sick so that's the howling....I'm sorry you'll have to come back in two da-" another low howl the same howl they heard the other night.

"....we won't be a bother ma'am, we swear, we can give him some help too."

"I really must insist boys, you have to go, I'll let him know you were here...I promice."

They do but don't leave, they leave far enough to see if any werewolves come out.

"David this is dumb don't they own a wolf? It's gonna sound like a fuckin' werewolf!!"

"Paul shut up! What if Micheal is a werewolf! We're dead!"

"Nu-uh Marko! David here is the wolf whisperer!!!"

David stays quiet and just watches before he calls it a night and heads back with everyone to the cave.

The next night is the same, although more howling and things of three different kinds....maybe the Emerson's have three dogs....

Then..the fourth night. No longer a "Full moon" it's starting to change on them all.

"So Micheal, your one of us, so be on the look out for a werewolf-"

"wait you guys aren't wolves?"

"......WHAT?!"

They feel dumb as hell, Marko is yelling on how he called it, David is just starting at him.

".....I let you while you are a sure Nazi's insides."

"oh god that's disgusting please never tell me that again, I'm on a stick diet of mostly a like freezer full of meat form the meat market god that's gross....."

"...then tell me Micheal....why'd you eat him?"

"....because Sam ate all the food-"

"SAM'S ONE TOO?!"

"...yeah....mom had to rush to get some meat but it only holds back some of my hunger....I spend last night starving me and same howling like neo tomorrow..."

"....do you remember anything? When your all...wolfed out?"

"....hmmm...yeah but I tend to.....try not to remember things....I rember being hunrgg...a soft voice, and someone rubbing my head, I take it that was you...what are you guys if not wolves?"

"....Vampires dipshit!"

"MARKO SHUT UP! HES A PUPPY BE NICE!"

"I'm not a puppy! I'm 18!"

"he's an old man in dog years!! Ancient!!!"

Micheal is starting to get why vampires and werewolves don't get along...

That and he cns let lose and drag David around, and rub up on him and roll around....

Just lots of thoughts.

[icharchivist]

i just love how even after he's calmed down and become very soft and domestic it's still relatively easy to make Sandalphon switch back to being feral for a minute if you upset him enough (or if you're Lucio). an example i noticed recently while playing with the sound on because i often don't is that in his cafe outfit his lines outside battle are perfectly calm and happy. and then as soon as he's in battle he sounds SO angry. like he's SO mad that whoever he's fighting has torn him away from brewing coffee he's going to rip them apart as fast as he physically can (and most of what he says doesn't even read as that aggressive it's the way he says it??) and then his victory lines are perfectly contented again. i love him i also hate to be interrupted while i'm in the middle of something i enjoy--

HELPPPP

THIS IS SO TRUE THOUGH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

redemption arc and healing arc won't stop him from being a bitch (affectionate) and i love that about him so much

more seriously, he's literally a guy who decided to come back to life rather than being with his lover to just retire and open a coffeeshop, of course everytime he goes into battle it's just "HOW DARE YOU MAKING ME TAKING ME AWAY FROM MY RETIREMENT" pretty much. And i think he's totally entitled to do so, i'm so happy for him.

I think Sandalphon should be allowed to go more feral. As a treat. i love him so much.

[huihuiheart]

Unchained - Wolf! Bang Chan

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Stray Kids Masterlist

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid! Chan x Female Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, smut

Summary: You knew your boyfriend was likely up to no good, but you assumed it was just a slight drug problem or something of the sort. At least, until he takes you with him, something you agree to only to know what kind of man you’re dating. Only to find out it’s much worse than you think, he’s been helping kidnap hybrids for illegal underground fights. Something you can’t stomach, but you also can’t just do nothing...which is exactly what the authorities would do. So you decide to break the hybrids out before you leave, only in the process you may end up stuck with a hybrid of your own.

Warnings: Hybrid Fights, Violence, aggression, domestic abuse? (an ex gets a little rough/aggressive), blood, slight gore, underground fighting, mentions of kidnapping, drugs, alcohol, betting, mentions of death, cops/detectives, gun fights, bullet wounds, unprotected sex, cursing, biting, marking (kind of, briefly mentioned), clothes ripping, Chan is impatient, and somewhat feral, bondage, oral (f! receiving), overstimulation, spanking, choking (slight).

Word Count: 14,754

Note: The story starts with you and your soon to be ex, it takes a little bit for Chan to show up...once he does though, oh boy....

Taglist: @lovesfaith​ @blessgguk​

Taeho had been your boyfriend for a long time, years in fact. That’s how you knew as soon as something was up with him. At first, you had assumed it was just something temporary, a lapse in self-control brought on by the stress of his daily life. Which is why you’d kept quiet and to yourself, to begin with, as long as you weren’t having to clean up behind the problem and he wasn’t bringing it home you assumed everything would be okay, and that it wouldn’t be long for him to return to his normal self again.

Only, this all started six months ago and it seemed that if anything whatever it was only got worse. He disappeared more often or showed up at odd times of the night without warning. He never brought any signs of what he was doing home to you, leaving you to wonder if he was cleaning up at his own apartment before surfacing again or if he got into something you hadn’t quite considered before.

Whatever it was, you weren’t sure that you could continue to live in mystery. It was killing you inside not knowing if he’d even show up again or if he’d be dead. Or what if you got a call from the authorities saying he had gotten into trouble while drunk or high. You needed to know what was happening to know if he needed professional help or if you could at least talk some sense into him, for your own sake just as much as his. So you sent the text, asking him to come over to talk while you collect your thoughts.

Taeho comes in and smiles at you as he sets his keys down and gets settled in your familiar apartment, “Hey babe, what was it you wanted to talk about?” 

You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to find your earlier confidence again now, “I wanted to talk about how you’re sneaking around all the time now. It worries me.”

Taeho pouts a little, before chuckling and coming over to squish your cheeks some, “Are you worried I’m cheating on you baby? I could never. You don’t have to worry about that one bit.”

“I wasn’t worried about that being what it was.” You frown slightly at how dismissive he seems to be about the whole thing, “My thing is just that if you’re having to sneak around then whatever it is you probably shouldn’t be doing. I’m worried that whatever it is will cause bigger problems and maybe you won’t come home one day or something. So what is it? Drugs? Alcohol? You can tell me...”

Taeho sighs, pulling away slightly to run a hand through his hair, “You’re right, it’s not exactly legal. It’s not like that though baby, it’s not an addiction. It’s no big deal either, it’s just a way I can make more money for our future. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing, okay?” 

“If it wasn’t a big deal you’d trust me with the details, instead of hiding everything from me and leaving me to have a heart attack when you show up at four in the morning.” You counter firmly, not having any of his excuses.

“How about this? I’ll think about it, and when I leave today I’ll leave your key. That way I can’t get in and scare you in the middle of the night? I have to give you advance warning then?” Taeho bargains and you can’t find it in yourself to argue, nodding softly, and letting things seemingly return to normal for the evening.

It had been about a week after your conversation with Taeho that you got the text. The one where he finally conceded to your wishes. Though now as you read and reread over the arrangement your gut twisted, not sure if this was such a great idea. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? 

Still, you were insistent on figuring out if your boyfriend needed help or not, and there was no way you could do that at home without any of the details. So you got ready, throwing on something simple, just jeans and a hoodie in hopes of being able to be somewhat hidden wherever you ended up. Though you weren’t sure if that would be possible, maybe just being with Taeho would draw attention to you. Either way, it was too late to go back now as Taeho let you know he was at your building. 

Getting into the passenger seat you could swear Taeho could hear your pounding heart. He paused looking at you for a moment as if debating himself if he was actually going to do this, before sighing softly and starting the car up again.

“You don’t have to come, you know. Once you know about this, there’s no going back. You can’t claim you were never involved anymore, if someone finds out you know stuff you could get into serious trouble. Otherwise, you have to stay quiet about it okay?” Taeho looks you firmly in the eyes as if warning you of what was to come. You simply nod though, staying quiet and unmoved waiting for him to drive off.

After about fifteen or so minutes he pulls into an empty lot near a metro station, turning the car off and getting out. Gesturing for you to follow his lead as he heads down into the station, one you weren’t familiar with as this wasn’t considered the best part of town.

“Stay close, or there might be some trouble,” Taeho whispers, offering you his hand to take as you go down and into the station, standing on the platform. 

You quickly notice that there’s no station security here, only one or two homeless and no one else. Taeho waits for the next train to pass, before jumping down onto the tracks and holding his arms out to help you down as well. You’re hesitant, more so now than before with your location, but follow him. 

Taeho notices and tries to ease you some, “Don’t worry, the cameras here are down and the next train doesn’t come for a half-hour. We'll be fine.”

His insistence leads you to follow him down the track in the direction that the train came from until you find a little maintenance platform hidden in the side of the tunnel. He helps you up before following, into the little abandoned inlet, opening the door and leading down the stairs to a basement section. Leading you through a few turns until you came to a door with a man standing outside, no doubt guarding it against any unwanted visitors. 

“Hey Jeup, she’s with me.” Taeho nods to the man who looks over you for a moment, before getting the door for you both and stepping aside to let you in.

Slipping down one last set of stairs you’re in a dimly lit large room, the center area spotlighted as crowds form around it. Money and drinks being thrown around. You spot more than one questionable substance in the area. Three men walking over to you and your boyfriend.

“Hey Taeho, I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.” The man leading them chuckles and claps your boyfriend on the back, “And you brought a guest.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss this match, it’s big and it’s my fighter. Of course, I’d be here.” Taeho chuckles and you feel your stomach churning as you start to put some of the pieces together. “Yeah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Jian, and this is Ungjae and Changbin. They’re two of my best. Though your boyfriend certainly brings in a pretty penny too, he’s found me some of the best fighters. Gotta keep the crowds entertained after all.” The man laughs a little, the other men smirking. 

You feel slightly relieved knowing that it won’t be your boyfriend who is fighting, but still, you have an unsettling feeling about this. You knew that underground fights of any sort were bad news, your lack of details about these only worrying you further. Did they even have any care about rules here?

“She’s kinda shy and new to all this.” Taeho jokes with the men, slipping his arm around your middle. 

“Well, we’ll be seeing you around Y/N. We have a fight to get set up though.” Ungjae nods before the three leave through the crowd. 

That very crowd parting for you and your boyfriend as you come through, people recognizing Taeho, “ If you don’t want to look then just tell me, but otherwise you need to keep quiet.” 

His whisper is harsh in your ear, yet you can barely make it out over the commotion that the crowd is giving as another man slips into the center area to announce the upcoming right as two others push large covered cages into the area. You feel the sickening feeling in your gut bubbling up at just what you’re about to witness. Assuming it would be some kind of fight between animals, ones you might not be able to look at the same way again after today. 

The feeling only gets worse though when the cages are uncovered to reveal two hybrids, their names being announced through the microphone the man is holding. The names mean nothing to you though, even if you could have made them out over the pounding of your heart in your ears. The crowd seems to love it, however, the fighters being two of the big ones here. A wolf hybrid on the left and a lion hybrid on the right. 

“Chan, the wolf hybrid is mine.” Your boyfriend whispers, before sighing as he sees your frightened, or rather appalled look, “Don’t be like that baby...they’re just animals, not like us. If you really can’t stomach it though, go to the back and buy a drink. I’ll get you when it’s over.” 

You shake your head slightly, not sure what you’re going to do. When Chan looks over though, and into your eyes, you almost feel like you’re going to cry. Leaving back through the crowd to go find a drink like Taeho suggested, knowing there was no way you’d be able to stomach what was about to happen. You also weren’t sure there would be a way to stop it either though. 

You down your drink quickly, hoping that along with the cheers of the crowd will be enough to drown out the sounds of the fight. You’re out of luck though as the growls, cries, snapping of jaws, and bones sound clearly through the room. There no way you could drown that out, or the guilt gnawing at you, yet what could you possibly do? You were clearly outnumbered and out forced by people who saw no problems with any of this. Plus you knew the authorities rarely gave more than a slap on a wrist to people who mistreated hybrids. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize someone was coming over to you.

“You can’t stomach it, can you?” Changbin asks leaning against the bar near you, “It’s okay, neither can I.”

Your brows furrow as you look at him, “Then why are you even here?”

Changbin leans in and sends you a flash inside his jacket, where a badge is hidden, before moving to whisper to you, “I’m undercover...hybrid division...and I’m trusting you by letting you know this because I can tell you don’t belong here and I don’t want you to end up in any worse of a situation. So if you’re willing to listen to me, then we’ll help each other out here. Okay?”

You glance back into the crowd to ensure that Taeho is still occupied before nodding at Changbin, “Okay, but what can I possibly do to help you?”

“Well...I’m not going to lie and say it’ll be easy or safe...but I’m hoping you’ll help me break the hybrids out. I can’t get it authorized by higher-ups yet, because this ring is bigger than just what you see today. We still need information, so I can’t risk exposing my identity to them.” Changbin starts, taking a turn at checking to see if you two had drawn attention, “I have a copy of the keys to their cages though and on the back way out you’ll pass by them. What I want you to do is break up with Taeho or at least just insist he point you the way out, it’s crucial he doesn’t go with you. Then get as many cages open on your way out, but be quick. Afterward, call me and let me know everything is okay. I’ll have someone check in as protection just in case. Whatever you do though...don’t take any of the hybrids to your house. Can you do that?” 

You debate with yourself for a moment, not sure if you could follow through with what he was asking. At the end of the day though, you’d managed to follow through on getting yourself into this situation and you couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. You find yourself nodding again, holding your hand out for Changbin to slip the keys and paper with his number into. Items that you’re quick to hide in your pockets. Everyone thoroughly invested in the fight as it comes to a roaring end. The fight was closer than anyone could have predicted, as the cheers exploded and the winner helped back into his cage...what’s left of the loser being carted off who knows where. Changbin disappears into the crowd before anyone loses interest in the ring and spots you two talking, leaving it up to you at this point.

"Babe! I won! My fighter won! Plus I bet on him, do you understand how much I just made for us?" Taeho comes over and tries to crush you in an excited hug, only to be confused as you push his arms away. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"I...I can't be here right now...I can't be with you....not knowing that you're doing this. I...I need to leave right now and I don't want you with me...ever." You get out backing up as you shake your head.

Taeho sighs and advances towards you, "Come on baby, there just animals, what does it matter?"

You scoff, "You say that like it makes it better? If you were dogfighting I'd still be disgusted in you. Besides the only person acting like an animal here is you. Now point me the way out and don't show your face to me again."

Taeho shakes his head pointing towards the back like Changbin had earlier, "If you go that way it's a straight shot out. Don't expect me to just drop this conversation though. I'll give you time and then we're gonna talk about it. I can't just not talk to you about it."

You knew you didn't want that, but you were afraid of what the repercussions of making a scene right now might be. So you simply nodded, shoulders slumping in defeat as you headed out the door leading to the back way out. Creeping your way through the damp hallways, the smell of mold and sewage rampant but something you ignored as you came to the first cage. Checking around once more before quickly unlocking it and starting to work your way through the room hoping to get them all. You were almost done when you heard the sound of voices approaching, signaling that you were about out of time. Turning to leave your eyes locked with the same pair from the ring, only now they held slightly less life in them. Chan having been torn up pretty badly in the fight he'd just been in. Looking like he likely stood no chance if you left him here to face off what would no doubt be an infection in one if not many of his wounds later.

So you worked fast to open the cage, ignoring the growl from the wolf hybrid as you moved to help him out. You knew he likely hated you and for good reason, you were a stranger in this environment that had only brought him suffering and pain. You could worry about the dangers of helping him later though. For now, you just needed to get the two of you out...and fast.

“I promise I’m trying to get you someplace better than this, but if they get us then we’re both dead. So I’m gonna need you to help me out.” You whisper to Chan as you slip his arm around your shoulders, your own going around his center to help him out. Moving as quickly as the two of you can ignore Chan’s grumbles as the voices get louder and start to sound somewhat pissed, worrying you that they’d caught onto your acts.

Slipping out the back entrance you make your way down the street, tossing the keys you’d used in some random trash can so that if they caught up to you no one would find any proof you’d done what you had. You were starting to panic though, Chan needed help...you couldn’t just leave him. Yet, Changbin had explicitly said not to take any of the hybrids back to your house. Doing the only thing you could think, you used your free hand to try and call him on the number he gave you, slipping into an alleyway to let Chan sit down to rest. 

Changbin taking long enough to answer that you weren’t quite sure he would pick up, “Are you alright Y/N? Is something wrong?”

“Changbin, I got all the cages open...but one of them was hurt from the fight...I think you called him Chan. I helped him get out, he needs more though... I’m worried he’s gonna die or something if I leave him. What should I do?” You whimper over the phone taking turns watching between the street and Chan for his well-being.

“You didn’t take him to your house, did you? They have trackers Y/N...if they spot him at your house there’s going to be a whole slew of problems.” Changbin panics over the phone as you hear a car door close, “In fact where are you? I’m on my way to help.”

“I’m still close to the station...too close I’m afraid. In an alleyway.” You urge Chan up again before he can get any worse helping him to slip out the alley and start away again.

“I’m sending you directions now, to a doctor who specializes in hybrids and a friend of mine. Start heading there, I’ll follow the same path and when we cross I’ll pick you and Chan up.” Changbin says, starting up his car, “Oh and Y/N...be careful. I’ll be there soon.” 

When he hangs up, you pull up his directions starting to follow them as Chan grumbles again making you sigh, “Listen...be as bitchy and growly as you want later, but right now your life and mine are on the line so shut it and just come with to the doctor so he can help you.”

“I never asked for anyone’s help. Especially not yours, so why don’t you just run along now to someone who actually gives a fuck. It’s not like you really did anything for me. Fight to live in there or fight to live out here, what’s the real difference.” Chan snaps at you, his harshness stinging slightly despite you knowing it’s his history with people and not you specifically. 

“I’m not just going to leave you to die! I don’t care if I have to drag you there I will, but I don’t think that either of us wants that.” You insist already somewhat dragging him along, despite him holding some of his weight still.

“Why the hell not? Why would you possibly want to help me? Do you want a little pet or something? Cause that’s not happening princess.” Chan scoffs waiting for you to announce some underlying motive behind your actions.

“Because I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you. It’s not right. Leaving someone who’s hurt...who you can help all alone to suffer and die. I’m not someone who wants you for a pet. I want you to have a life, which is definitely not on the table if you die. So let’s get you your health back first and then worry about any other obstacles to you getting a full life after that’s resolved, okay?” You don’t get a verbal response from Chan, considering he had no idea what to say. Not used to being treated like an actual person before, his heart softening some at your conviction, it proving you truly had pure intentions. You get some form of an answer though when he straightens up slightly, cooperating further in your helping him.

Chan’s body language changed again though when Changbin pulled up, not trusting him in the least. His gut trusted you, however, and that’s what won out, convincing him to get into the back of the car with you. Letting Changbin drive you two off to an unfamiliar place. One he also was not fond of with how sterile and medical it smelled, only used to that from whenever those who fought them needed something done...like putting in the tracker that was now going to need to be taken out.

“Minho! We need help! He has a tracker though, so take care of that first and give it to me...I’ll make sure you all have plenty of time here.” Changbin calls into the clinic another man popping out to lead the way.

Minho makes quick work of the tracker in Chan’s arm, handing it to Changbin who runs off with it after apologizing for getting you into this mess and leaving you and Chan to find another way home. Before Minho is laying Chan back and getting things ready, putting in a drip iv since he was both dehydrated and it was the best way to give him painkillers at this point. 

“He’s going to need someone to look out for him while he recovers,” Minho tells you, starting to stitch up an injury. Chan watches him closely, wary of the situation while he slowly starts to fade out of consciousness due to the meds.

“I can keep an eye on him, I might not do a perfect job but I’ll try my best.” You nod at Minho before smiling at Chan, “You just rest up now, and get better. It’ll all be okay, I promise.”

Chan’s not sure where he is or how much time has passed. all he knows is his eyelids are heavy and his brain foggy. Trapped in a haze from the meds the previous night, yet fighting past it as the smell of food wafted throughout the apartment. His brows furrowing as he sits up, in an unfamiliar bed at that. Not that he was used to any bed, even still knowing that this was someone else’s set his nerves ablaze. 

What calmed him though was picking up your scent, this was your bed...yet your scent wasn’t strong enough to imply you slept beside him last night. His assumption confirmed as he looked around and spotted a much less comfortable-looking armchair converted into a makeshift bed while a fit aid kit sat on the night table between the chair and where he slept. 

Chan is slow about getting out of bed, being careful of his injuries and the remaining effect of the medicine, yet unable to ignore the call of food. Letting it lead his way to where you were working in the kitchen, mouth-watering at both the sight and the smell as he watched you closely. He wondered to himself if he’d have to sneak any of that for himself though, would you share with him or would you give him something less grand like everyone had before. He couldn’t deny that you treated him differently, yet everyone had their limits...didn’t that?

“Are you feeling alright?” You ask, having spotted him when you finally looked up, “If you’re in pain you can sit down and I can get you something for that really quick. The food is almost done anyway since you shouldn’t take them on an empty stomach.” 

“I’m feeling alright at the moment actually, better than after most fights like this to be honest.” Chan admits quietly, slowly stepping closer, “Is that for me too?”

You chuckle and nod, “Yeah, there’s no way I can eat all this by myself. Besides I thought that a good high protein breakfast would help you get some of your energy back and help you recover some more. Sound good?” 

“That sounds...that sounds amazing. Thank you.” Chan is flabbergasted, practically in awe of your attitude towards him. As if he was just any other person to you.

“Alright go sit then, don’t strain your injuries. I’ll bring it to you in a minute.” You shoo him away with a smile. Chan’s face is graced with a tiny smile of his own as he moves to listen without much fight for once, looking around to take everything in as he sits at the table. Joined by you with the food after not too long.

“If you’re still hungry afterward I can always make more or you can help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen. Just try not to eat too fast. Minho said sometimes the meds can make your stomach a little sensitive and I don’t think it would be good if you got sick right now.” You advise him as you take your seat, “So...I never actually asked, what’s your name?”

Chan’s brows furrow as he looks up at you after quickly shoveling his first bite of food in, “I mean you know what they called me...Chan...”

You shrug, eating some of your food, ”Yeah, well that’s not what I asked is it? I didn’t ask what they called you, I asked what your name was.”

“Christopher...my name is Christopher.”

The day seemed to pass fairly well, Chan slowly getting more comfortable in your apartment, not that you minded. You encourage him to rest from time to time and let him clean up and put on some clothes you’d run out and gotten for him. Occasionally checking your phone to see if any news came up about what you had done or Changbin texted you anything just in case.

You knew something would come up from last night though you would be naïve to think otherwise. Especially after what Taeho had told you before you left. The chaos coming crashing back into your peaceful little bubble when a fist pounds against your door. Chan’s eyes darkening as he looks over at it, already recognizing the scent on the other side.

“Y/N! Open this door right fucking now! We need to talk!” Taeho yells through the door, making you tense and panic. Your hands shake slightly as you give Chan your phone.

“Chris, take this and text Changbin what’s happening, he’ll send help. Go hide in my room or something, don’t let him know you’re here, or that information might get out.” You whisper to him, knowing that he’d have no problems hearing you. 

Chan debates for a moment, not wanting to leave you...especially if you were going to face your pissed-off ex-boyfriend. Yet, he knew it would be better if the information about what you had done didn’t get out. For your sake, as much as his, he knew these were dangerous people, and Taeho was by no means the worst of them. So he went and disappeared into your room, texting Changbin, who he still didn’t necessarily trust, but if it would help and keep you safe he would do it.

You crack the door open and sigh softly at Taeho, “What the hell do you want? I thought you said you’d give me time before showing up to talk about this again?”

Taeho huffs, forcing the door open, not caring if it stays that way as he advances on you, “Yeah, well that’s before you made the dumbass decision to break all of them out.” 

You back up as he moves closer, body language screaming aggression, and you hope you can either convince him to leave or help gets here before anything can happen, “What are you even talking about, Taeho?”

“Right after you left, all the hybrids were broken out. You really want to tell me that wasn’t you? After you were oh so disgusted by what was going on? I go out and make us good money, and you turn around and do this to me...well guess what, now it’s my ass on the line, so you better start talking before I turn it around onto you. I will throw you to the wolves if I have to for my own sake.” Taeho hisses, backing you against a wall with no way out.

“Sure, I was disgusted, but how would I even have managed to get them out, Taeho? Huh? They were in cages. What could I do?” You counter trying to push him off, but he doesn’t budge.

“They were, and then someone changed that. I’m guessing it was you, considering everyone else there has been there for a good while.” Taeho shoves you back against the wall.

“Once again, how would I have opened the fucking cages, Taeho? What? Did I just see some bolt cutters lying around and decide to take matters into my own hands?” You purposely throw out a made-up way of opening the cages, and it gets him to give you a little space to breathe at least.

“No...they were open with keys.” Taeho’s voice softens slightly, taking a step back enough to let your now sore back finally come off the wall.

“How would I have gotten my hands on those keys? The only person I would know well enough to be able to sneak them off was you? Were your keys missing? Cause that should be your answer right there? Now, if you’re done throwing out baseless accusations, get the fuck out of my house and go look for whoever the person with a new moral compass is.” You shake your head, hand rubbing slightly at your back.

“Oh, I’m not leaving just yet. I have a feeling you know something at least. Even if you weren’t the one who was behind it, and I’m going to figure out what it is.” Taeho insists, looking around your apartment before spotting two sets of everything laying around, “Who else is here, Y/N?”

“No one, what are you talking about?” You play it off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Two cups of coffee I wouldn’t have batted an eye at, but two take-out meals when you’re on your current healthy eating kick...not so much. Before you make up excuses, I can see that both boxes are empty. So save it and tell me who the fuck is here with you.” Taeho hisses, and when you scoff he grabs your arm, squeezing painfully tight, “I don’t have time for games.”

“Let go of me. No one is here, and even if someone was, that’s not your goddamn business. I don’t want you in my life anymore. That means I can have whoever the hell I want over here, and I don’t have to justify shit to you about it.” You respond, trying to pull out of his grip.

Taeho shoves you behind him, cursing under his breath, “Whatever, it is my business cause I’m the one who’s going to have to pay for it if this comes back to you. If you don’t want to tell me, though, I’ll go figure out who’s here myself.” 

“No, the fuck you won’t.” A voice sounds from the entranceway to your apartment. Changbin standing there and walking in, “It seems like you’ve done more than enough damage here Taeho, let’s take this outside.”

“Changbin. So you’re the one, huh? Bet Jian would love to hear all about this.” Taeho chuckles, crossing his arms and scoffing at the other.

“Oh, but he won’t hear a peep.” Changbin counters showing Taeho his badge, “So you can either come willingly, and we can talk terms that are a better deal for you. Or you can make this a whole lot worse for yourself than it already is.”

Taeho huffs before cooperating with the detective, making you wonder just how often he already got into trouble to be able to go along without much direction at all. You truly didn’t know the man he was, the man you thought you loved...who you thought loved you. You were distracted for a moment, though, when Chan rushed out to you, quickly helping you up and looking you over.

“I knew you had been involved! You’re the one who took my fighter!” Taeho screeched heatedly, making Chan’s attention snap to him. His gaze burns through Taeho as he growls towards the man moving to advance on him until you get between them.

“Whoa, easy Chris, don’t do anything to him. He deserves it, but it won’t help you any right now. There are too many people who would use it against hybrids, you and others. Besides, there’s plenty of charges on him right now that he’s going away no matter what, you won’t have to see him ever again.” You insist on trying to be logical, despite knowing that Taeho deserved anything that Chan had intended to do at this point. He had practically asked for it through what he did.

This is why you walked over and slapped him in the face, leaving a mark that would fade by the time anyone else was around, but still giving him a taste of what he deserved, “For the record, though, Christopher doesn’t belong to anyone. You’re just a dumbass who can’t look past his own selfish desires to treat people like they deserve.” 

Chan looks at you stunned before pulling you back to him as Taeho suddenly decided to get aggressive again, trying to get to you. Changbin dragged him away to take care of it.

“I’m going to have my last partner come check in on you and make sure it’s safe for you guys to stay here. He’s one of the few people I trust to look out for you guys in this situation. His name is Hyunjin, I’ll send him over. Until then, keep the door closed and locked.” Changbin tells you before he’s entirely out of your apartment with Taeho.

You gently place a hand on Chan’s shoulder to assure him you’re okay before pulling away to close and lock up your apartment. Chan never far behind as he follows after you still concerned.

“Are you alright?” Chan finally speaks up in a soft tone, and you hum looking at him a little confused.

“Yeah, I mean where I got hit still stings some, but I’ll be fine.” You nod, forcing a small smile to try and ease his worries. Chan gently brushed his fingers over where Taeho had grabbed you harshly, already knowing bruises were forming.

“I meant emotionally after all of that...still you don’t need to lie to me about it.” Chan counters yet does not sound angry or cross with you despite calling you out like that.

“You’ve been through more physically and emotionally. I’ll be fine.” You brush it off with a small shrug, moving to walk away and to the kitchen. Your responses only worry Chan more.

“I was used to that by now, though. You’ve just had everything come crashing down onto you all at once after he lied to you about it for who knows how long. That’s a lot, and you don’t have to tell me anything about it if you don’t want to, but you don’t have to force yourself to be fine for me either. Even if we’re both broken right now, that’s okay...maybe...maybe we can help fix each other...together.” Chan’s voice drifts from concerned to hopeful. He’s not sure he has any idea what he’s doing. He just knows that you don’t deserve this, and you’re making him feel for once like he doesn’t either.

You sniffle, turning towards him with a fresh round of tears in your eyes, “ You know what, Chris...I’d like that.”

Besides going to work pretty much all of your time was spent with Chan in your apartment. Your heart breaking for him, he was free from the cage but stuck here until everything could get worked out. You’d gotten closer to Changbin and Hyunjin, Chan slowly coming to trust them with you. The two guiding you through the process that would lead to the numerous court cases looming over you. Minho occasionally popped in as well to check on Chan and make sure he was adjusting to life with you okay. 

“So the date for the case to determine if Chris can safely stay with you or not is locked in for next week now. Before then, we want you both to meet some people, one is a hybrid. He wasn’t in fights like Chris, but he was in a rough situation too. The other person is the one who helped him get a life back, like how you’re doing. They had to go through similar trials as you two will, so they might be able to give you some insight on how to go forward. That being said...Chris hasn’t really been around another hybrid outside of the fights, so just take it slow, it might be a bit uncomfortable for a while.” Changbin tells you while Chris and Hyunjin are in the kitchen working up something to eat. 

“That would probably help a lot actually. You and Hyunjin have offered a lot of help, but we’re still kind of drawing blind here. Having someone who can kind of guide us on the specifics would probably help a lot with the anxiety, to say the least.” You sigh softly, and Changbin chuckles a little, nodding in agreement.

“Their names are Felix and Jisung. Their schedule is pretty open, we just weren’t sure where you’d be comfortable meeting, so we didn’t invite them over yet.” Changbin explains, pulling out his phone, and you shrugs softly.

“Well, we’re still not wanting Chris to be spotted, so just invite them over it’ll be fine.” You wave him off. Having three guys constantly around your apartment kept it pretty chaotic anyways, what were two more, right? “Speaking of that, though, any idea when the other cases will be?”

“The bust on the ring is happening in a few days, before the first case but not much. Just enough to not put a bigger target on you both by being out in such a public place. It’s just a matter of how long it’ll take to build the case after that. I’d expect it to take about three weeks from the bust, a month at the absolute latest. The hybrid rights case is scheduled for just over a month from now, at this point anyways. Those dates could change, though.”Changbin’s huff tells you he’s no stranger to changing court dates, not that you and Chan are either at this point. Changbin slipping his phone back into his pocket after texting Felix and Jisung your address.  

You nod, processing the information he’s just shared with you, “Okay, as long as the bust happens before our court date, I’m not too worried. I just want everything to be as safe as possible.”

Changbin sighs, his lip between his teeth and face concerned, “Either way, it won’t necessarily be safe...or pleasant...There are going to be people who are very against what you and Chris are trying to work towards.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not going to back down from doing the right thing because of that, though. As long as the people who started this whole mess are behind bars and not trying to shut us up, I’ll be alright.” You insist, Changbin nodding, but you can tell he’s still worried about you, “Besides, I’d say we have a pretty good support group.”

Chan pops out of the kitchen, beaming proudly at you, “Hey Y/N! Come look at this!” 

You hum, standing to follow the excited man into the kitchen. You watch as his ears twitch, chuckling as you notice him intently eyeing the kitchen timer. Hyunjin, looking up from where he leans against the counter and snickering as well.

“You can open it and look at them, it won’t ruin anything. Besides, sometimes the timer isn’t exactly right anyways.” Hyunjin tells Chan, who shakes his head adamantly. 

“No, they need to be perfect. Besides, they’re almost done.” Chan insists, waiting for the ding to launch forward, grabbing the oven mitts so he can pull out whatever is in the oven as there’s a knock on the door. Changbin calls that he’ll get it as Chan pulls cupcakes out of the oven, “Look! We made cupcakes! And we can make a lot more too!”

Chan’s excitement dropping almost immediately, head whipping towards the door. His expression is sharp and concerning you. You look between him and the doorway with furrowed brows.

“What is it Chris, what’s wrong?” The slight waver in your voice draws Chan’s attention to you for a moment. A feeling of guilt bubbling in his gut at worrying you like that.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a cat.” Chan snorts, only confusing you more until you see Changbin appearing with two people. One of them being a cat hybrid, his tail flicking anxiously behind him until he spots the cupcakes.

“Did you bake those?” The cat hybrid perks up, mirroring Chan’s earlier excitement. Chan looks between the cupcakes and the other hybrid, still wary but eventually choosing to interact with the cat hybrid.

“Yeah. I’ve never baked anything before. Hyunjin was showing me how.” Chan slowly answers, and the other man nods along.

“Well, they smell really good. You should go ahead and try them. I bake a lot, and usually something that smells this yummy is.” The cat takes a step away from the cupcakes giving Chan a bit more space to go towards the cakes. Chan hesitates for a moment before holding one out to the other hybrid, much like a peace offering.

“I’m Chris,” Chan speaks, still watching the cat closely but slowly trying to let him in with the same compassion as you had first shown him.

“My name is Felix! We’re here to help you with some of the details for your case, but if you want we can be friends too! I could show you just how many different kinds of things you can bake!” Felix eagerly offers, making Chan light up a little more as he nods along. Slowly adjusting to the fact that, like people, not all hybrids are threats to him either.

You look at Jisung and smile softly, “Thank you for coming. I think this will be really good...for both him and me.”

The day of your first case finally arrived as you stood in front of Chan, fixing his tie for the umpteenth time, trying to calm your own nerves. Chan gently takes your hands into his own, trying to comfort you some.

“I’m nervous too, but it’ll be okay. Everyone is going to be here to stand up for us and help us out.” Chan reassures you, squeezing your hands gently before letting them go as your lawyer arrives.

Seungmin looks between the two of you, “It’ll be alright, just remember what we talked about and it’ll be okay. They’re going to try and throw you off and get under your skin, so don’t let them. Just stay calm and answer like we practiced.” 

You and Chan nod before following Seungmin into the courtroom and following him to your place. Passing by where your support group sat, everyone, having cleared their schedule to be here for you even if they weren’t going to need to testify. You glanced back at their smiling, encouraging faces from where you were seated between Chan and Seungmin, before taking a shaky breath to calm yourself. Changbin had told you that you were lucky to get the judge you had, Yang Jeongin, he could be a tough judge, but he was fair when it came to hybrid cases. He treated them as a person, one who could speak for themselves and had a right to do so, which is more than many judges would right now. 

Your hand held Chan’s under the table, letting Seungmin do his job knowing that you and Chan would likely be the last ones questioned based on how everyone prepared you for today. So far it seems accurate as Changbin was called up first.

“So Detective Seo would you please explain to everyone how you can to know the defendants?” The prosecutor asks, and while you knew that the question was coming you still felt your nerves spike at that moment. Chan’s history and how you all met was something you knew could either make or break your case today, and you could only hope for the best.

“I was working undercover as part of an operation to take down an illegal hybrid fighting ring. Chan happened to be one of the fighters that they held there by force.” Changbin answers calmly, trying to leave you out of it. The prosecutor is having none of it though, looking between him and you for a moment.

“And what about Miss Y/N? How did you meet her?” They continue to question. Chan picks up on how your heartbeat speeds up, squeezing your hand softly to try and calm you down.

“Her boyfriend was a part of the ring and brought her one night to show her what he did for a living. She wanted out that same night but was concerned for her safety. So -” Changbin goes to defend you, but the prosecutor cuts him off.

“So if I understand you correctly Miss Y/N was unable to read her boyfriend of many years. So how can we be sure she’d know if Chan was going to do something or not? If she can’t be trusted to speak up to someone she was so intimate with, how can speak up to someone she’s known for barely a month?” The prosecutor inquires rhetorically to the judge, before going to sit again.

Seungmin shaking his head and standing to take his place at questioning Changbin, “ Detective Seo it seems the prosecutor cut off the rest of your earlier statement, could you please finish it for us?”

“Sure, since she wanted out, but was concerned for her safety. I suggested how to handle things with her boyfriend at the time and gave her a number in case she needed police protection of any kind. On the way out she released the hybrids and afterward we met to give Chan medical aid.” Changbin finished and Seungmin nodded along as if in thought.

“Would you say this is the kind of thing you see often in your job? Where a criminal’s significant other gets pulled into situations such as this?” Seungmin’s next question is something you weren’t expecting but it gave you some hope of redemption.

“Without a doubt, a lot of criminals are excellent liars so they can keep what they do a secret for a long time. Then when they do finally reveal that world to their significant other they tend to put a lot of fear into them. Mostly to ensure their own protection. Scaring them into not speaking up or anything. Usually, it’s entirely justifiable too. When these people threaten things, they mean it. For example, in Miss Y/N’s case, her boyfriend forced his way into her apartment, invaded her privacy by trying to search her home, and even used physical force to try and coerce her into things after that night where I helped her get away. Had things escalated again we would have had to move both her and Chan to a safe house.” Changbin answers and Seungmin nods.

“So really, Y/N’s morals speak for themselves. As soon as she realized what was going on she freed the hybrids and stood up for what was right even at the price of her own safety.” Seungmin concluded before they let Changbin down from the stand. Him giving you both a small smile in passing.

Minho getting called up next. Putting the pressure on Chan now instead of you, not that it really helped your anxiety too much right now.

“So Dr. Lee, you first met Y/N and Chan when they came in after that fight to get him medical attention. Is that correct?” The prosecutor starts simple, before continuing after Minho voices his confirmation, “ Would you share with us some of the observations you made of Chan at the time?”

“I observed that his injuries appeared to be repeated injuries, likely from years of fighting. He also appeared to be dehydrated and not properly nourished, along with being somewhat agitated. Something not uncommon for someone in that amount of physical pain.” Minho explains and the prosecutor nods.

“What of his mental health? Did you make any observations about that?” The prosecutor presses and you know where he was going. Seungmin and Changbin had warned you they might try to argue that Chan needs to be in a facility after the way he’d been treated in the past.

“I am not authorized to make any observations other than basic of that sort. That being said I can request that a patient of mine go to receive a psych evaluation if I notice things seem to be an issue, based on the basic knowledge of that field I have. When Chan came in I deemed that was unnecessary. I simply suggested that both he and Miss Y/N look into therapy for various reasons as it might help.” Minho answers and that’s enough for the prosecutor to run with.

“Your honor, as you can see the doctor suggested therapy without that medical professional in their life can we actually be sure that their mental states are in a place where they would be safe in a home together?” The prosecutor presses before Jeongin dismisses him and invites Seungmin to question Minho if he chooses.

“Dr. Lee, could you please share with us your reasoning on why each of the defendants might benefit from therapy?” Seungmin inquires and Minho nods.

“In Chan’s case after all he went through it might be prudent to talk things out after them being bottled in for so long, or perhaps to find some underlying PTSD after what he went through. Allow him a way to adjust to having a free life again. In Y/N’s case, it would be due to what her boyfriend of the time did. How he lied to her and then betrayed her trust and even brought harm upon her. Since they have not known each other long, even if trust is there they may not have learned how to fully communicate or might not want to burden the other, which is where a therapist could assist.” Minho responds and Seungmin thanks him, allowing him to leave. 

That’s when the real worries set in as the prosecutor sets his eyes on the pair of you, calling Chan up to be questioned first. Saving you for the very end.

“Chan, can you share with us what you remember of your life before the fight happened?” The prosecutor’s questioning Chan about a touchy subject and you know it, not knowing much yourself about his life before the fights.

“I don’t remember much. My parents weren’t around for long, they were sold off when I was little. When I got a little older that family got a new hybrid, a younger one, and threw me out. It was pretty much the streets and then being taken to the fights.” Chan does surprisingly well at staying calm you notice, more so than you would likely do in his shoes.

“So the fights weren’t the first stroke of bad luck you’ve had in life then?” The prosecutor’s question makes Chan roll his eyes.

“Well I was born a hybrid, so no not really. Bad luck tends to follow us around in this society.” Chan huffs softly, slightly more irritated at that question. Making the prosecutor smirk at getting under his skin for a moment.

“How would you say that has impacted your daily life then?” The prosecutor presses further but doesn’t get what he’s looking for in immediate action as Chan calms down again.

“To be honest, it haunts me. A feeling of guilt knowing that you did things you didn’t want because there wasn’t a choice. The pain of losing the few friends you had. The memories of the things you’ve seen and lived through.” Chan answers and the prosecutor nods, turning him over to Seungmin.

“I just have one question for you Chan, that’s it. How would you say that Y/N impacts your daily life?” Seungmin questions and for the first time today, you think you see Chan genuinely smile some.

“Well for starters she taught me not to hate all humans, along with a few other friends I’ve made. Which is another thing she taught me how to make friends again, I don’t have to be afraid of losing them. Or be afraid that all humans will treat me the way I have been before. For once I’m actually happy and she’s teaching me about the world. How to be a part of society and stuff, well as best we could while hiding out until the ring was taken care of and it was safe to go out. I can take care of myself and others even for the first time in my life, plus I feel like I have a life now.” Chan smiles at you and if this were any other time you might let yourself get emotional. 

You know that right now you have to stay calm though. That you have to keep it together considering that you’re going to be called up next. 

“Miss Y/N, do you have any history working with police or anything similar in nature to your current involvement?” The prosecutor asks and when you respond with no he continues, “What about history when being around or working with hybrids?”

“No, I don’t have any history with that either.” You respond softly, worried that any answer you give might just be what changes things for you and Chan again.

“Then this must all be quite daunting for you, isn’t it?” The prosecutor continues and you shrug softly.

“I mean...at first it was yes. I’m used to it now though. I feel better too, knowing I did what was right and helped people as best that I could.” You respond honestly, knowing that he was just getting started.

“So would you say you have it all figured out then? That you know how to handle anything that comes up with Chan perfectly?” The prosecutor presses.

“Well...no, but-” You go to defend yourself, yet he cuts you off before you can finish much like he’d done earlier with Changbin. 

“As you can see your honor, they don’t really know what they’re doing when together. They have good intentions, yes, but there are too many unknowns between the two of them.” The prosecutor takes his seat. 

Seungmin comes up to you, offering a small smile, “Miss Y/N can you please finish what you were saying before the prosecution interrupted your statement?”

You give a small nod, “I was going to say that while I don’t know what I’m doing perfectly that’s normal. I’m human, I’m naturally imperfect. Mistakes happen, but I’m willing to try my best, and if a mistake does happen to take responsibility for that. Just like with anything else in life.”

Seungmin hums, “Since you mentioned responsibility would you mind sharing with us what has been on your plate this last month or so? What all have you been responsible for?”

“Sure, it wasn’t safe to be out too much either of us. Especially Chan though, in case someone from the ring spotted us and followed us back. So I would go to work, pick up any groceries on the way home. Or just anything that either of us needed. Then at home, I would make sure we’d eaten and taken care of anything needed for the detectives or the doctor so that I could take it to them the next day. Or arrange an appointment at a time when we could discreetly get Chan there in a safe way.” You answer easily, used to the routine after so long.

“And you did this every day?” Seungmin continues, making you nod softly.

“Yeah, every day except for Sundays. Usually anyways, Sundays we tried to relax or I would try to teach Chan something new.” You respond and Seungmin smiles helping you down and letting you know that you did well. 

“Very well, we’ll take a thirty-minute recess to review everything that has been presented. Afterward, we’ll have closing statements, followed by the verdict.” Jeongin announces before the recess begins. 

One of the guys brought you both water as they all tried to encourage you, saying they thought it would turn out well for you both. You still weren’t as positive though and Chan could tell, squeezing your hand he leans in.

“It’ll be okay. No matter what you did your best and we can be friends either way.” He whispers his reassurance and you find yourself giving a small smile for his sake.

Thirty minutes was both too long and not long enough. Dragging it out made you more anxious and yet you weren’t sure you wanted to know what the verdict was. You tuned out the final statements, not processing that at this point. Your focus was solely on the judge as you waited to hear what decision had been made.

Jeongin clearing his throat and looked between both sides of the room before beginning to speak, “After analyzing everything and deliberation it has been decided Bang Chan will be allowed to remain with Y/L/N Y/N, however, they will attend 12 hours of mandatory therapy to assist with these new circumstances.” He nods at you and Chan, “And I’ll see you both bright and early for that case against the hybrid fighting ring. Until then, stay safe and don’t cause any trouble.”

You look at Chan stunned, until he happily pulls you into his arms and hugs you with a laugh, “I told you that you didn’t have anything to worry about!” 

You chuckle and nod, “ You did, but still it’s a lot.” 

Seungmin smiles at you both, “I’ll see you later to discuss the other cases, until then just enjoy this. Detectives Seo and Hwang will escort you home. I believe they had something to discuss with you anyways.”

“Come on we’re going out the back. There’s a crowd out front and they won’t be too happy when they heard what the verdict on your case just now was.” Hyunjin tells you both before leading the way. Changbin following behind you both just in case.

“Okay, what was it that you two wanted to talk to us about though?” You question as you follow their lead easily.

“Ah, about that...it seems someone who works with the ring is still out. So for your safety, we’re going to be moving the both of you to a safe house until after the trial, unless we can secure the suspect sooner.” Changbin admits, sighing softly, “You can get your things from home, and then we can take you there.” 

Chan helped you to get your things out of the car and into the safe house. The two of you sitting on the couch while Hyunjin and Changbin made sure the house hadn’t been compromised in any way before letting you both get settled. They had taken care of your work and everything for you so that you both could get to the safe house and made arrangements for anything else that would be necessary while you were in the safehouse. 

Hyunjin rubs the back of your neck as he comes over, “So since we didn’t have much time to get this together this place only had one bedroom...one of you can probably take the couch, but even off shift at least Changbin or I will be here to supervise the officers and make sure you’re both safe...so we might be sleeping here too. I guess basically what I’m trying to say is there’s not enough beds or couches for everyone.” 

You blush a little, but wave him off, “I mean Chris and I are probably okay sharing a room if you and Changbin are okay taking rotations on the couch or something...if that’s okay with everyone else?”

Chan chuckles and nods, “Yeah I don’t mind, that’s pretty much what we did at the apartment for a few weeks anyway.” 

Hyunjin nods and sends you and Chan off in the direction of the room to get settled. You finish up before Chan, sitting on the bed and watching him finish up. Chan looked over at you and laughed softly.

“So what do you want to do now? Read a book?” Chan snickers flopping down beside you.

“I don’t know that we’ll find any entertaining ones around this house.” You laugh a little yourself, “Probably should have thought about that a little bit more when they said we’d have no phones or internet for three weeks.” 

“Yeah probably, we’ll find something to do, for now though, I’m gonna go let them know that we’re all good and see if there’s anything else we’re supposed to do before trying to gain some semblance of normalcy here.” Chan smiles at you, reaching out to gently brush your hair out of your face before getting up to leave the room again. In effect, leaving you all alone for now.

After a moment you got up, glancing towards the window. You thought for a moment before deciding to take a peek through the blinds. Nothing that would risk you being seen, just enough to take in your surroundings for now. Hearing the door you turn to face Chan with furrowed brows.

“Get away from there, it’s not safe to be around the windows.” Chan calmly says watching you step away and picking up on your confusion, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Who are the men that just showed up outside the house? Are they more officers?” You try to keep your voice from shaking. The way Chan’s eyes widen at you your question doesn’t help the uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach though. 

He quickly takes your place, ears twitching as he sneaks a lookout. Before grabbing you and pulling you out of the room. Startling Changbin, Hyunjin, and the others who were there to protect you.

“Four armed men just pulled up. I’m guessing by the look of them that they aren’t with you.” Chan growls out before his ear twitches again, hearing a sound from outside.

He’s quick to drop to the ground with you in his arms. His body wrapped around you for protection as gunshots rang out. His hearing gave him a split-second advantage to get you two in a safer area, even if it still wasn’t a good place to be in. Hyunjin and Changbin round the corner to meet you not long after, guns are drawn and keeping an eye towards the front.

"Are you two alright?" Changbin asks while Hyunjin covers you before having to reload. When both of you voice that you're so far unscathed he continues, "There's no way we're making it out the front with how many guys there are. We're going to have to go out back before they can surround us. When I tell you two to go, run. Outback and look for a car. Don't look back and if we aren't right behind you then just go. Head straight to the police station and let them know what happened."

"Alright." Chan nods, grip firm on your arm, ready to get you out of there as soon as Changbin tells you both to run.

"Go now!" Changbin tells you as for him and Hyunjin lay down cover fire for your escape. About the time you reach the door you hear him cry out in pain though. Looking back you see Changbin hit the ground, leg bleeding from a gunshot wound as Hyunjin tries to cover you and drag him towards the back door.

"Chris they're not gonna make it." You gasp, causing him to glance back as well.

He's quick to shove you out the door, growling out a demand, "Go. Find a car. We're right behind you."

As much as you didn't want to leave them you'd never heard Chan speak to you like that before and your body was on autopilot, listening to what he told you to do right now. Searching outside before finding a somewhat trashy car abandoned between the fence and a rotted out shed. It didn’t matter much what it looked like though as long as it ran well enough to get you all to safety. Wasting no time you run over, yanking open the rusty driver’s door. Sliding in you scour the area for keys, thanking the heavens when you drop the visor and they fall into your lap. Wishing with all you have as the car stalls that you’ll get lucky again. You pause for a moment, before trying again as you see Chan helping Changbin out the door, followed by Hyunjin. Right as panic was setting in the car roared to life, letting you pull forward to let the other get in.

“Drive. I’ll guide you straight to the hospital. Don’t stop for anything. I’ve called it in, so we should be getting an escort meeting up with us along the way.” Hyunjin tells you his arm out the window, firing at the house still.

You waste no time peeling out, following Hyunjin’s direction until the flashing lights of cop cars end up ahead of you and lead the way themselves. Pulling into the ER in a flurry of chaos. You and Chan try to follow Hyunjin and Changbin in, only to have cops stop you, insisting on taking you to a new safe house.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know he’s going to be okay. Besides. Do you even know how they found the last safe house? Until you know I’m just as safe here as I would be at a safe house.” You counter, holding your ground with a stern look.

“We’re. I’m staying with her, and the detectives.” Chan adds, hand moving to rest on the small of your back and guide you through the group of officers and into the hospital. 

You sat waiting in the room with Hyunjin and Chan, staring down at your hands still waiting for word from the surgery Changbin had been in to remove the bullet and repair the damage. Chan’s hand sliding over your shoulder as he offers you a cup of coffee.

“I have a feeling you won’t really be sleeping much tonight, so you might need this.” Chan’s voice is soft, his gentle side showing through again and it almost brings you to tears. Looking between him and Hyunjin who both seem rather calm, nursing their own cups.

“How can you be so okay right now? We don’t even know if he’s going to be okay.” You whimper. Chan shushing you as his arm slips further around your shoulders pulling you closer to him, his warmth surrounding you like a blanket.

“As much as it sucks...what’s happened, happened. There’s no changing it now. We have to live with it now, there’s no other option. It’s hell, but you get used to it...well in your case I hope you never have to, but some of us get used to it.” Hyunjin sighs softly, looking down at the black liquid in his cup as he swirls it, “As for Changbin, he’s gonna be okay.”

“How can you be sure?” You ask, Chan, rubbing away your tears almost as quickly as they’re falling.

“Because...it’s Changbin...and because he has to be okay.” Hyunjin gives you a small forced smile, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself along with you.

Your shoulders slumped, bag dropping to the ground as you and Chan entered the safe house. Hyunjin trailing behind as he checked the perimeter once again.  

Changbin looks up from his spot on the couch and chuckles softly, “The day went that well huh?”

You sigh shaking your head, “Did you hear the verdict yet? The judge had us leave before they went into deliberation so that hopefully we could get through the crowds and back here quicker. Even out the back way though it took us an hour to even get past the protestors...I was really worried...I expected more people to be there for hybrid rights, but it seems like everyone was on the opposite side today.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be there with you guys today. After the second day, the judge said they wouldn’t need me anymore and that I should rest instead.” Changbin frowns, “People were supporting hybrid rights though, they were just on the opposite side of the street. So they must not have been visible the way you went out...they were certainly much calmer than everyone against them anyways. I’m glad you guys got back okay.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Next time, I’m the one taking the bullet.”

“Oh don’t worry there won’t be a next time.” Chan shakes his head lightly, heading to the kitchen to get you both some water, “How’d the physical therapy go today Changbin?” 

“Average for physical therapy...it’s hell in the moment, but after a bit, things go back to normal.” Changbin shrugs as Hyunjin joins you three inside. His radio is going off as the station contacts him.

“Turn the TV on, they’re about to announce the verdict,” Hyunjin informs the rest of you.

You go to stand by Chan’s side as he puts down the bottles, turning to look at the television from his place in the kitchen. Changbin quickly turned it on and changed the channel to where they’d be able to get the announcement. Your hand clutching Chan’s tightly, gnawing at your lip. Finally releasing your breath when the guilty verdict was announced, most of the group getting a sentence of twenty years to life, a few with less or opportunity for probation. That would be something to take care of when the time comes though, for now, the fact was that they couldn’t get to you, Chan, or any of the other hybrids now.

You throw your arms around Chan before realizing what you were doing. He’s quick to slip his own arms around your center though as if it was the most natural thing for the two of you to do. Chan nuzzling at your hair taking in your scent, one of his biggest comforts since all of this started. Before he’s pulling back to look into your eyes, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re safe now! And free!” You beam up at him, a few tears of joy glittering in your eyes as he smiles back at you.

“No we’re safe now, and free to do whatever we want without worry or looking over our shoulder.” Chan’s eyes never leave yours as he finds himself leaning in. 

His eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. His lips brushing against yours as he pauses for a moment, searching for any hesitance from you. Instead, you close the last of the space keeping you apart, pressing your lips against his. A kiss he’s been waiting for...that you’ve both been waiting for, and now that it’s finally here neither of you is holding back any longer. Chan’s lips devouring yours, craving more of your taste already. The two of you pulling away only to breathe, not even care about your audience currently. Panting as you look wordlessly at each other, cheeks flushed with heat.

“Two down, just one to go. Afterward, you’ll be free to do that in public too.” Hyunjin chuckles as you and Chan finally look to the two detectives whose eyes long left the television in favor of you.

“I’m not worried about it...I have a good feeling about all that’s to come.” Chan honestly responds before beaming at you again, “Especially some things.”

You didn’t like sitting behind Chan in the courtroom for a change. You didn’t necessarily like sitting in the courtroom at all, but at least beside him, you could hold his hand as some form of comfort. Felix glances at you from his spot beside you, gently grabbing your hand to give it a small squeeze.

“He did really good, and he’s fine even with you back here. I’m sure it’ll be a good verdict.” Felix whispers his assurances to you. Chan’s ears twitch as he picks us the conversation and glances back at you, winking at you with a small smile.

“You helped out a lot too Felix. I don’t think we would have been able to do this without you, especially when you were a good example up on the stand. So thank you.” You squeeze his hand back, making him shrug.

“Hey, anything for family. Though now that you guys are like family I hope you know you’re stuck with us now.” Felix giggles making the others agree quietly.

“For good at that.” Jisung adds chuckling softly, “But you two better quiet down, the judge is coming back.” 

You’re rigid, but also practically trembling in anticipation as you wait to hear the court’s decision. Knowing that no matter what you’d always stand by Chan’s side, yet wishing for a positive answer for his sake either way. 

Jeongin cleared his throat, pausing as he always did before announcing the verdict, “This court has decided after deliberation to grant Bang Chan full citizenship and rights. If he so chooses to legally change his name from what was given to him in a hybrid facility he can do so at the same time as he signs the citizenship papers. This court is dismissed.” 

Felix hugs you before helping you make your way up to where Chan is, “ Congratulations. We’ll see you this weekend for a proper celebration, but until then you two have fun...and be safe.” 

You playfully smack his arm at his suggestive teasing, “Whatever. We’ll see you guys this weekend. Be careful getting out of here, it’s crazy outside.”

The others nod as you move to Chan’s side, hugging his side as he looks over the papers. Changbin and Seungmin there as witnesses to sign the papers in addition to Chan and the judge.

“Congratulations. Is there a new name you’d like to legally have?” Jeongin inquires pointing to the blank area where Chan could put in whatever name he’d like to take on.

“Christopher. Christopher Bang.” He smiles at you knowingly as he writes it down before they finish signing everything. 

You both shake hands with the judge as he congratulates you both again. Before doing the same with Seungmin, thanking him excessively for all he did to help you both.

“Alright, let's finally get you two home again...it’s been a long month.” Changbin chuckles, leading the way to the car that already had all of your stuff in it, ready to be taken back into your apartment once again.

The car took quite a beating on the way out. Those against the decision throwing things at it in protest, until those who were there in favor of equal rights for hybrids stepped in to help your car safely get out and away from the irate group. Your head falling to rest on Chan’s shoulder relieved that all this was finally over and went well so that you could be home and back into your routine once more. Though no doubt with a few changes now too...not that you’d give them up for anything.

The drive took longer than expected, but you made it nonetheless. Kicking off your shoes as you step into the familiar and yet somewhat forgotten home. Stepping deeper into it knowing that Chan was following behind, stretching and checking your phone that was now in your possession once more. Eyes still glued to it as you turned around towards Chan again.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” You question scrolling through apps for your favorite takeout places.

“I know what I’ll be having,” Chan growls out, in the same voice he had when he told you to leave the safe house. The voice that lit a fire in your gut and had your eyes snapping up to meet his darkening ones.

You don’t get much time to read the feelings filling his eyes though before he takes your phone and puts it aside so as not to distract you anymore. Closing the little gap remaining with a searing kiss. Not having any patience or games, having waited long enough for you by now. Something your heart, mind, and body wholeheartedly agreed with as you feel your arousal starting to pool between your legs. Chan easily picks up the scent of it and nips somewhat harshly at your lower lip with a rumbling growl.

Chan’s arms slip around you and lift your, heading back towards the bedroom, “Fuck, I’m so glad this isn’t illegal anymore...not that it would have stopped me anyway, but still.” 

Your giggle is cut short by his lips finding yours again. This kiss is much shorter than the last, but not less heated. Simply ending when Chan tosses you back onto the bed, crawling over your form as his eyes take you in.

“Remind me why we didn’t do this sooner? It’s obvious we both wanted it.” Chan’s question is wanting an answer, yet he’s not making it easy for you to give it as he nips over your neck soothing the little marks with his tongue and lips. 

“Because...because we weren’t alone...the others were right outside the room and could have come in at any time.” You pant, already getting more worked up by his actions. Chan’s growl turns into a chuckle as he notices your legs spreading on instinct, already so eager despite still being fully clothed.

“You say that like I would fucking care. I didn’t care if they heard...or saw because at the end of the day you’re mine and it would have just proved that to them...besides I might have been gentler if I had not had to hold back for so long. I don’t know that I can anymore though.” Chan’s teeth are still against your throat, drawing out soft mewls from your lips and teasing you by rutting his clothed bulge against your thigh.

“Then don’t hold back. You’re always talking like you’re the big bad wolf and like I should be so scared of you, so show me what the worst you can do is.” You taunt knowing him well enough to know that just that little bit will be all it takes for him to fully snap. 

His hands gripping onto the hem of the dress you wore to court today, ripping it down the middle with no concerns other than getting to your skin beneath it. Giving you no time to argue as he nips over your chest now. Your hands are moving to try and work on pushing off his suit jacket and gripping at his hair. 

Chan pulls away snarling at you and pinning your hands, “I don’t think so kitten. You made me wait, so now it’s your turn to wait. And it would be in your best interest to do so too, cause little disobedient kittens don’t get what they want.” 

If the scent of your arousal building at the way he grumbled out that threat didn’t give you away to him then the growing wet patch on your panties certainly did. Chan licks his lips and smirks softly at you before deciding to make things a little more challenging for you, tossing his jacket aside. His tie, however, he lays close by on the bed for when you inevitably snap and disobey him. He tugs his shirt off next, with almost as much force as he had your dress, sending buttons flying across the room. His mouth on your chest again, hands gripping firmly at your sides for a moment before trailing up over your form to remove your bra. 

Chan pinches one of your pebbled nipples, earning a quiet hiss from you, “Hm so sensitive for me, aren’t you? Trust me you’ll only be getting more sensitive as the night goes on.” 

He nips at your other nipple, before suckling softly, fingers eager to give your other nipple equal pleasure. His eyes locked on your face for a reaction as he switches sides, growling in his chest around your nipple when he watches your hands moving down towards him again, his only form of warning to you. 

Chan knew if he kept it up though it would only be a matter of time before you gave in and touched him again. He was counting on it. Trailing his mouth lower as his hands ripped your panties off and out of his way. Tongue darting out to flick over your clit, raising a brow at you as your legs fall open and hips twitch up towards his mouth. His hands are quick to hold you firmly in place before fully pressing his face against your core, tongue curling deep into you with little growls and grunts sending vibrations through your core. Chan intent on getting every drop of you on his tongue as he possibly could even as your arousal builds more and more, slicking up his face. 

He’s mildly impressed at the fact that you manage to keep your hands to yourself even while trembling in need on the precipice of your impending orgasm. It only encourages him to go harder though, sucking on your clit as he suddenly presses two fingers into you, curling them perfectly against your spot. What finally sent you over that blissful edge though was when his teeth grazed over your clit with the tiniest bit of pressure. 

Through your fucked out haze of pleasure you didn’t realize you’d reached down and weaved your hands into his hair until a few moments after Chan had helped you through your release. Looking up at you all too pleased with himself at getting you to finally snap and touch him again. 

He grabs your wrists and moves your hands away from him again, “I warned you kitten, now get on your hands and knees.”

“But Chris-” Your whining gets cut off with a sharp cry as he swats at your thigh.

“No buts, now do it before you get yourself into more trouble kitty,” Chan growls, this time it’s a bit more playful though. Letting you know this had been his plan all along and things were going exactly how he’d hoped. 

His fingertips tap down your spine as his other hand grabs the tie he’d laid aside. Before doing anything else though his hand crashes down on your ass, hard enough to leave a lasting sting but the pain bleeds into pleasure and it makes him snicker when he can tell you liked it. His hands gripping your wrists to bring them behind your back and tie them together with his tie.

“Filthy little kitten, now you have no choice but to listen.” Chan taunts spanking the other cheek now, before kissing over the sensitive flesh before biting instead.

His desire to fuck you senseless is on the verge of driving him to insanity, but now that he’s had a taste of you he won’t be satisfied unless he makes up for all the previous times he’s wanted a taste of you too. His hands gripping your ass and spreading you open more to give himself unrestrained access to you. Not wasting another second before his mouth is on your core again. Using to his advantage every sensitive spot he learned from your first orgasm while also looking for more to bring you to your next. Pulling away after that one to lap up what he’d missed that had dripped down your thighs, knowing he wouldn’t have the restraint to hold himself back for much longer. He was sure he’d be able to bring you to a third orgasm before that little thread of restraint left snapped though. The determination makes him return to your core with fervor. Like a man starved...which in a way he had been, just not starved of food, just of you.

You’re still trembling from your third and latest orgasm when you hear shuffling behind you before his tip is running through your folds. Collecting your wetness before pushing in as slowly as he can bear for your sake, wanting to let you adjust and not hurt you. His hands gripping at your hips before moving, slowly at first, once he hears your soft moans starting to fill the room, however, he picks up the pace. His hips slapping against your ass, watching the way it moves and enticing him to spank you again. The action makes you clench around him, crying out and clawing at the tie around your wrist at his hard thrusts and the way his hand meets your ass, making him quickly repeat the action, growing out as you clench around him again.

“Fuck...you’re so fucking perfect....so filthy and you love how I’m treating you right now don’t you kitten? Go on, scream my name, let everyone know how good I’m treating you.” Chan grips at your bound wrists, pulling you back into each of his thrusts. His other hand reaching around to rub at your clit, “Shit, you’re going to cum for me again aren’t you? Gonna cream all over my big fucking cock, huh? Do it kitten, but don’t think the night will be over just cause you do.” 

This time when you cum Chan doesn’t slow down for a second, if anything he does the opposite. His hand leaves your wrists to slip around your throat and pull you up against his chest. Angling his thrusts to brush against your spot each time as he feels himself getting close to his own edge, but refusing to go over it without you cumming again too. His hips stuttering as he feels your pussy spasming around him on the brink of release once again.

“It’s okay, kitten. Let it go. You’ve done so good for me.” Chan whispers in your ear, nuzzled against your neck as he encourages you to fall into a world of pleasure one final time tonight. He bites down on your neck, roaring out against it as he cums shortly after, riding you both through your highs.

His hands carefully undo your bound hands as he gently lays you down on the bed, slipping away to go get a washcloth. He’s gentle as he cleans between your legs before grabbing a sweatshirt and some panties for you, in just sweatpants himself. Chan leans in gently stroking the hair away from your face, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll help you get cleaned up more later...for now though...how about we seriously think about dinner?” Chan chuckles before blushing a little, “Not that there’s really anything to talk about though...considering I already ordered your favorite. My timing is damn good too, I scheduled it for five minutes from now.”

You laugh, shaking your head slightly at him and playfully smacking his shoulder, “Five whole minutes? Hm you mean you had time to make me cum again and you didn’t?”

Your teasing makes Chan growl and playfully nip at your ear, “Careful what you say kitten, we still have a whole night at our disposal. Who said anything about stopping before sunrise?”

He gets up to go answer the door at the knock, winking at you before his eyes rake over your form again, licking his lips. You two would certainly be celebrating and making up for lost time tonight.

[quietlyimplode]

do you take fic requests bc if you do could you do something like how in bw nat flinches when dreykov goes to hit her the first time and maybe when clint first meets her or something all she does is flinch and super submissive??

Hey Anon. Not sure if this is exactly what you’re thinking; I think there’s a strong correlation between why Natasha flinched and Dreykov being the ultimate abuser; I think that she would be able to differentiate him and Clint. I’m not sure she would have as violent reaction to someone she didn’t know, because that reaction (I think) is one borne of repeat trauma. Sooo this is a 5+1 touching on that reaction.

Warnings for: child abuse, child death, red room musings, domestic violence, child trafficking, black widow spoilers, and ptsd. (3045 words)

Forged.

.

1/

Everything is so overwhelming. There are girls screaming, men with guns. She holds on tightly to Yelena and makes her stand behind her.

The guns have lights on them and she can’t follow them all.

There’s so many people, it’s loud, and confusing and Natasha just wants to cry.

Pain only makes you stronger.

But her chest hurts. It’s a ball of panic that hasn’t gone away since Mama Melina said she was sorry.

She tries to school her face so that it’s devoid of panic; but it’s hard. Yelena is holding her hand hard.

It happens quickly.

They grab Yelena and she yells and screams for her, tries to pull her back but they hit her in the face.

Disoriented, she loses track of her sister, the pain in her heart intensifies in panic and she catches sight of blonde hair. She rips the picture in her hand, and runs over to her.

She knew it was going to happen. She didn’t think it would be like this. She thought they could stay together.

“Take it.” She yells. “Take it.” And shoves it into Yelena’s hands. She’s pulled away and so is Yelena.

She can’t help the feral noises that break free from her body.

She doesn’t cry though.

Pain only makes you stronger and she is in so, so much pain.

She’s lined up with the others and is made to step forward.

She sees him; the man from Cuba. The one Papa Alexei embraced. He walks up to her.

He smells of cigars and strong cologne and it takes everything she has to hold his gaze and not turn up her nose.

The man grabs her head, and she flinches hard against his hands. He gets closer and there’s something in her that remembers this man.

“The Red Room is your home now,” he tells her and looks her up and down, gaze lingering.

He pushes her into a line with 3 older girls and she bites the inside of her mouth as hard as she can to stop herself hyperventilating and panicking.

Pain. She reminds herself.

Pain.

.

2/

There’s four girls with her. The biggest of the guards is closest to her and three more stand over the others. Of course, they think it’s her, that she’s the ringleader. They’re not wrong, but it does make her think that she should perhaps try and stay under the radar a little more.

They’re all standing in front of Dreykov who exudes anger. She can count the number of times on her hand that she’s had to stand in front of him, this is the first time in her nightdress. She’s self conscious all at once and she crosses her arms around her body.

“Stand front!” The guard yells, gun in her face. She startles, as she drops her arms down to her sides, fists clenching.

Svetlana glances tentatively at her and she bows her head.

Dreykov hasn’t said anything and they’re all awaiting punishment. She knew she shouldn’t have smuggled in the Nutella but she was so excited about the new taste, the deliciousness of the spread that she could share.

He turns to face her and her blood runs cold.

“Kill them.” He says looking directly at her, his face curled in a snarl.

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head hard.

He laughs.

“Fine.” He looks to the other four.

“Kill her.” He says and ducks his head towards Natasha.

Svetlana is closest, the guards step back as she steps forward, intentions clear and Natasha can see the smile that plays across his face.

Sadists.

She’s old enough now to know to use the environment to protect herself as well, knows this room and, has taken stock of all the things in the room that could be used as a weapon. She assumed, of course, that they would be used against her, not that she would have to use them against the others.

The first punch comes from Odette, a kick from Sevenya, and attempted restraint from Clara and Svetlana. Natasha protects her head, trying to find an opening where she can get one of the girls between her so the other three have to go through her first.

It’s Clara that she throws on the floor in the way of Odette and she narrowly avoids a letter opener thrown at her head. It clatters for the floor and she scrambled back to pick it up. Holding it in front of her, she looks at the others. It’s not malice on their faces but fear.

Dreykov looks on in amusement and then looks at his watch.

Natasha waits for Odette to attack again. She was always the most impulsive. She spins to the side and kneels and feels the letter opener slice across her femoral artery, she knows she’s hit it when the gush of blood accompanies it.

She has no time to ponder it as she tries to pull the weapon out, Clara is on her again. Natasha kicks up catching her under her chin, the sound of skin hitting skin, her bare foot tingling. She pushes Clara back, adrenaline fading and fatigue setting in for all of them. Sloppy punches end up in hair pulling as Natasha swings her legs up and around her neck. Maybe if she knocks her out, she won’t have to do it.

“Enough.” Dreykov’s voice is clear and she detects the anger on it.

He pulls his gun and shoots Clara and Odette.

She flinches at the sound and almost vomits as she sees Clara take her last breath.

“Leave now. You have no place in the world, as such you may take nothing and have nothing. You will be searched on entry and exit.” He says, enunciating every word.

Natasha attempts a glance at the other two girls but they won’t meet her gaze. They all know what being searched means.

The bodies of Clara and Odette are dragged out one door as they leave through another.

.

3/

Natasha stretches. The apartment on the west side is sunny and she lays on the floor basking in the heat like a cat. She should get up and get something to eat, her stomach letting her know that it’s time, but this position is so relaxing and soothing that she ignores it; just for now. Closing her eyes she listens to the lull of slow paced music she put on earlier.

She given herself two days to do nothing. She’s sure that she’s off the radar and knows that her body and her mind needs rest. If only it worked that way.

Being on the run isn’t new. Being a fugitive from the red room and staying low is fine. She just needs to decide what she wants out of life; these are the bigger decisions that she’s putting on the back burner. Just for now.

The sun sets low and the slow growl of her tummy, lets her know that it’s truly time to get up; tend to herself and find the Thai place that knows her order when she walks in the door. A fact that she’s not sure she should be worried about.

Pulling on a jacket, she turns to set her own locks, and then moves to the door to lock it with her keys.

A bang, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a yell make her flinch hard, dropping her keys to the floor. A flash of a guard and her head whipping back from a punch is almost identical to the sound she just heard, and it takes her a second to get her breathing under control. Natasha feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up, knowing the likelihood of what she’s just heard.

She’s got a choice to make.

Help, and potentially expose herself.

Do nothing, and more red on her ledger.

Bucking courage, she walks inaudibly down the hall. Locates the sound where there’s the faint sound of crying and the low rumble of a mans voice.

She knocks, loudly and confidently.

There’s silence, before the door opens ajar, and she pushes it into his face and walks in.

“Bitch what do you think you’re doin?” Comes the drawl as he follows her.

“Did you hit her?” She asks voice low and dangerous.

“What?”

“Did you, hit her?” Natasha points to the crying woman, whose face is swollen and red.

“Who do you think you are?” The man stands over Natasha and stares down at her. She cocks her head and stares back. He goes to grab her and she turns her body, grabbing his hand and twisting, making him drop to his knees.

She twists again hard, and he grunts and cries out. There’s a strong smell of cologne, the same as Dreykov and she snaps. She breaks his hand and punches him in the face. Hears the crack of fist against cheek and shouts at him.

“How dare you?” She grunts at him, standing over him. She punches him again.

“You think it makes you more of a man?”

There’s blood on her knuckles.

The woman is asking her to stop; and she’s crying harder.

Natasha knows what she’s done, she’s not upset with herself.

She squats next to the man with the broken nose and bloodshot eyes; blood spattered making for a gruesome scene. She gets close to his face.

“Nod if you can hear me.” She says. He nods; a short dip of his head.

“I will kill you if you ever touch her again.” She promises.

“I know where you live.” She nods to the mechanic jacket hanging, “I know where you work.” She stands up.

“I will be watching.”

 

4/

Clint watches Natasha playing chess against herself and holds up the takeaway.

“Come play against me,” she invites and he laughs.

“You think you can take me?” He asks.

She finally looks up to him and grins.

“Always.”

He puts the paper bag down on the stove and laughs as she sets it up again.

“I haven’t won once, doesn’t it get boring playing against me?” His eyes twinkle at her as he looks at her, both of them smiling.

Natasha opens as she always does by moving her pawn. Clint copies her move.

She’s about to make her second move when they’re interrupted by the smoke alarm chirping and a small flame coming from the paper bag on the stove.

He laughs. Says something about not knowing the stove was still warm and waves the tea towel across the smoke alarm.

It takes him a moment, but he realises she’s not joking with him. In fact.

She’s frozen.

“Natasha?”

There’s a whine and a choked noise.

“No. Nononono.” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Make it stop. Make it stop.”

He’s scrambling now.

“Please?” He looks to where she’s looking, the smoking bag, a flame.

“Make it stop.” She repeats again.

His heart drops and he finally gets the tiny flame under control, dumping it in the sink. She’s staring where it was. Eyes blank, body tight.

He moves over to her and reaches over to her.

Natasha flinches at his touch; his hands retract quickly.

“It’s ok, Natasha.”

The haunted look doesn’t leave her face but she stands and moves away.

“Yeah, it’s ok.”she repeats back.

She leaves for the bedroom and he follows her tentatively,

“Just. Give me a minute.” She requests and shuts the bathroom door.

He sits on the bed waiting for her to emerge. He stays until he hears the tap run, and the door unlock.

When she emerges she looks the same as before, face relaxed, mask on.

“You ok?” He asks, tentatively.

“Fine.” She nods.

Clint nods with her.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks tentatively, not really knowing what to do next. The fact that she’s freaked out on him and managed to pull herself back together in the space of ten minutes is suspicious, and he feels he needs to walk on eggshells around her.

She shrugs and melts into the couch, knees to her chest.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” He ventures, sitting next to her.

“No.”

It doesn’t leave any space for probing, so he stops talking. Let’s her figure it out herself.

She uncurls herself and stands.

“Actually. I’m just going to go home.” She nods to the chess set. “Thanks for the game.”

He stands alongside her.

“You sure?” He asks, it’s not right he knows. He should keep her here, make sure she’s ok. But. They’re not there. He’s not her confidant. He’s not the one she goes to.

Natasha nods.

“Thanks.” She grabs her coat and makes for the door, passing through the threshold, pausing slightly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

By the time he reaches the door frame, she’s gone.

 

5/

Natasha has done hard things in life. She knows she has. Her whole childhood was lucky survival, and she knows it. But this. This is intentional bravery and even if she dies she knows it’s the right thing.

Being in front of him, is possibly the hardest, most confronting and perhaps masochistic move she could have taken, but given the short time frame Melina gave her, she didn’t see another way.

As he talks to her.

As he goes to touch her face.

It takes all of her not to react.

To be still.

To remember to breathe.

She asks about her mother because she can’t help it, and he tears the knife through her soul.

She wasn’t unknown. She was Natasha and all the other mothers who fought for orphaned little girls. She buries it deep, masking her face, unable to stop her eyes watering.

He makes Antonia uncover herself, and she’s ripped apart again.

Natasha carries the scars of her death on the inside. Antonia carries them on the outside.

She can’t believe what she’s hearing, seeing and wants with every once of her being to say she’s sorry. Of all the deaths she’s being responsible for, Antonia’s is the one she needs to atone for the most.

She’s alive and it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing.

Dreykov taunts her as she knew he would and sends Antonia away. It’s enough to make her mind flip back to the plan.

Finally, the opportunity to shove a gun in his face. She knows it won’t work. But the little voice inside her head thought maybe, just maybe she would be stronger than the pheromone lock. She wasn’t strong enough as a child to fight back when they took her from her bed, or when she wanted with every once of her being to protect others; but she thought maybe being separated from him, being older, grown; she wouldn’t be subjected to the same weaknesses.

She was wrong.

She can’t pull the trigger.

She can’t stab him through the heart.

And as he touches her and peels the knife from her fingers, she can feel the panic welling inside her.

She’s traipsed into the lions den, full of confidence but she’s nothing compared to science and manipulation. Despair fills every inch of her as he’s close enough to smell. The old sickly cologne that haunts her nightmares, that makes her snap into rages when she gets a whiff of it on any other man, and as it’s paired with the smell of a cigar, she’s torn back to him grabbing her face and telling her the Red Room is her home.

She is home.

She tries to outrun it but he’s going to turn her back into a mindless automaton. Not with trigger words this time. Not with pain. Or fear, or even threats. It’s all chemical. She has no choice.

Her whole body shudders in visceral pain as he gets closer to her, talking to her, saying her name.

Her voice is low as she keeps up the charade.

Sever the nerve; and it will be ok.

Sever the nerve; and he will have no control.

But.

As he raises his hand to her, she can’t do it. She flinches away and she’s so disappointed in herself. Old habits, isn’t that what they say?

She’s 10 and her eyes are black.

She’s 11 and her body knows not to bruise so easily.

She’s 12 and can take a punch easily.

Natasha bites down heavily on her cheeks drawing blood. It’s grounding. He moves away from her and mumbles something about Melina.

Control.

Control the narrative. Make him say what she needs. This is not about her.

This is not about her trauma.

She breathes heavily as he reiterates the plan to her and she tapers the panic.

Bait him.

Make him cooperate.

She can do this.

She can do hard things.

+1

The television plays and the heater whirs as Natasha sits on the big chair reading her book. She sips the sweet drink she prepared for herself and pulls the blanket up. There’s a softness about the night, and it’s built on not having any competing priorities. Not having to be anywhere the next day.

She’s alone but it’s peaceful, and allows her to mull over the words she reads.

“Being kind to yourself is the greatest kindness.” Is the quote that sticks in her head, and, as she picks up the chocolate on her left, she’s knows it’s the truth.

For once, her brain is calm and she knows the safety of this place. Clint would call it a controlled environment but she prefers to think of it as safety.

In the life of a spy, there’s no place safe enough, no turning off the low level anxiety that always follows her around, but somehow; here, she can.

She looks out the window and admires the trees atop the mountain she can see, marvels in the low fog that gathers around and has a life of its own as it moves around outside in the darkness.

There’s no light pollution, except what’s coming from inside the house.

She glances at the time, glad she made the connection, the phone call she’s expecting not breaking the peace or make her flinch at the unexpected noise permeating peace.

Natasha sets down her book and picks up her phone. One minute.

Right on cue it rings.

She smiles.

“Hey.”

.

All my fic.

[axwalker]

Bad Timing: Only For Tonight

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC)

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running  she settles  in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together.

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood?

This chapter: Drake and Alexis spend the night together. What happens after? 

MASTERLIST HERE

WORDS: 1998

POV: Dual

TRIGGER WARNINGS:  Explicit Sex 🍋🍋🍋. Mentions of domestic violence.

ALL MY FICS ARE +18

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors.

I’m participating in the Wacky Drables prompts  

This is Prompt #87: No offense, but I'm not interested (Bold)

@wackydrabbles​

Thank you to @burnsoslow​ for beta reading! I love you ❤️❤️

Please if you want to be added or removed from the tag-list, do not hesitate to ask.

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ALEXIS

"Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you," Drake whispers in my ear.

"I want you, Drake."

"I should probably warn you," he says to me, placing feather kisses down my jaw, his stubble grazing my skin, "that I can be very bossy."

His baritone voice sends a shiver through my body.

"Don't worry about me, Walker. I can take it."

Drake smirks, and I yelp when he scoops me up into his arms and carries me inside his apartment. He sits me on the couch and suddenly drops to his knees, his hands running up my bare legs and parting them. He looks up at me as his thumbs slide over my inner thighs, brushing over the delicate skin, pushing my dress up higher and higher. His expression is wild with desire. I raise my hips slightly as he pushes the dress up, so it's bunched around my waist, and he slowly runs his finger over the top of my underwear, from the waistband all the way over the mound and down between my legs.

"I've wondered all night what you taste like," he murmurs, sliding his finger back up, pressing in at my clit. His hands firmly grip my hips; He lowers his head, pulls me toward his face, and I feel his wet mouth pressing against me, the thin barrier of my panties muffling the sensation just enough to drive me wild. I suck in my breath, my fingers going into his hair, while he runs his tongue over my clit, the pressure causing me to jerk my hips toward him.

"I've had enough teasing," he says, the vibrations spreading through me.

He pulls his face back for just a moment, long enough to slide my underwear down over my thighs until they're off me, then he's pushing my legs wide again, his mouth going in for the kill. Every worry, every horrible memory inside me gets lost with the wet sweep of his tongue. My mouth falls open. My God. He knows what he's doing. My thighs are already trembling. His mouth is so warm, so strong. He kisses me there like he kisses my lips, soft and gentle, then quick and wild, sliding up around my clit, then down inside me with a grunt. I can't contain my cry. It tears out of me, driven by the need for him to be deeper.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look right now," he whispers into me.

I'm exploding, wet, warm, pure fucking bliss. My hips jerk into his mouth as I spasm, my thighs gripping the side of his face, his stubble so beautifully rough.

He stands up and takes off his shirt; my mouth waters, and he kicks off his shoes, bends down to take off his socks. Takes a step toward me. My eyes follow his hands as they undo his belt and then the zipper of his jeans. And then his jeans and boxer briefs drop to his ankles. Holy fuck, he's hot. Ripped and manly. Huge. I've never been with someone like him.

With trembling fingers, I take off my dress and bra as he inspects every square inch of my body, making me feel incredibly vulnerable.

"Jesus." He steps forward and trails his fingers up and down my bare arms. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he says, kissing my shoulders, my breasts.

He pushes a book off of the couch and then turns me around, placing his hand between my shoulders and shoving me down, so I'm on the couch on my knees.

"Hands up, against the wall," he says from behind me, his voice extra rough, almost feral. I've never been so excited before. I put my hands up so they're pressing against the wall, just as his hand curls around the small of my waist. His touch is electric, especially over my hyper-sensitive skin.

"Spread your legs for me, beautiful," he groans, and I hear his teeth opening the condom wrapper.

"I'll fuck you for hours," he murmurs, mouth now at my ear. His voice is rough with need. "I'll make you come over and over until you can't walk, can't talk, can't see anything but stars. But right now, I need to come inside you. And I'm going to do it fast and hard. Get that, Lexie?"

I nod, trying to swallow.  

"Good girl," he says, straightening up. He caresses my ass and slams himself into me. All the air is pushed from my lungs, and I bend a little more, trying to accommodate his size. His cock is in so deep I'm not sure where I end, and he begins. Then he starts working me, his fingers pressing so hard into my side that I think he's leaving bruises, holding me steady as he fucks me hard. There isn't anything in the world but this. He grinds into me, over and over, his hips jerking against my skin. His frantic thrusting is measured, his hips circling just enough to slide against every part of me—faster, harder, deeper.

"Fuck. Fuck, Lexie. This is ..." He doesn't finish his sentence. His grip tightens around my waist. I feel him everywhere, like he's filling me up in every way.

"So wet … so tight, baby." Just then, his cock hits the right spot until I catch fire and burn inside out. I've never felt this before. This pleasure, this passion.

"Right there. Don't stop!"

"Not even close to stopping," he grunts. He thrusts even deeper, watching my back arch into him with overwhelming pleasure.

It's a curious thing to have a one-night stand with a stranger. You've known each other for only a few hours, and then you decide to share something that leaves you so vulnerable. When I turn my neck and stare into Drake's deliciously wicked deep-brown eyes, there's a sort of freedom I've never enjoyed in bed before. He makes me feel safe and powerful.  

Then as he starts to tense, his breath becoming hoarse, a drop of sweat falling from his face and onto my neck, he slides his hand over the front of my skirt and below, finding my clit. A rub from his thumb is all I need to come, and it's not just the intensity of the orgasm that rips through me, causing my body to spasm and shake. It's the intensity of us. Of Drake, as he groans into my shoulder with one final thrust, his cock twitching.

Several positions and many orgasms later, we fall together into his bed, exhausted. True to his word, Drake took his time with me after the first time. Going slow, kissing every inch of my skin.

He gets up from the bed to throw away our last condom; I contemplate leaving. I don't know how to behave, it's the first time I’ve had a one-night stand, and I don't want to act clingy or emotional.  

"How are you feeling, Lex?" he murmurs when he comes back before he kisses me, long, deep and sweet. And just like that, every worry I have is gone. I melt into his touch, into his arms, and I never want him to let me go.

Which is a fucking problem because I can't stay.

He scoops me against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around me. He peppers kisses all over my shoulders, my neck, my back. I let my eyes drift closed just for a second and fall asleep.  

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

Warmth engulfs me, every inch of my body is warm, and I nuzzle into the pillow deeper, wanting to stay like this forever. It's been a long time since I've had a decent night's sleep in a comfortable bed. However, as soon as I notice the room's complete darkness, my eyes pop open, and I start to panic, trying to remember where I am and how I got here.

There's a weight over me, and I feel suffocated. I force myself to take a deep breath, and I realize that I'm safe. I'm in Cordonia, thousands of miles away from him. Slowly, yesterday's events come back to my mind, and I realize my head isn't lying on a pillow but a firm, ripped chest. I glance up at the sleeping man I shared last night with and take in his harsh but beautiful features.

Drake's sleeping peacefully. His arm is still around my waist, holding me almost protectively. For a second, my heart flutters, and I allow myself to dream. What if I had met Drake instead of Matt? Even after only one night, I can tell what kind of man Drake is -- manly, confident, protective. I feel safe, cherished. But it can't be. Not now, or ever.

Gently, I untangle myself from Drake's arms. I gather up my dress and shoes and creep toward the living room. I order an Uber, and three minutes later, my phone pings with a notification that the Uber is here just as I reach the front door. I quietly open it, tiptoe out, and glance back at the house.

A deep sorrow overcomes me because I know that I will never be the same again after tonight.

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

DRAKE

It's been three days since I last saw Alexis. I figured I'd feel differently in a few days. I'd forget the sweet taste of her lips, her delicate cherry scent, the sound of her laugh on my ears. Never did I think I'd still be replaying our conversations, jerking off every night to the vision of her body moving against mine. Fuck. Me.

Finally, I decide to go to the bar where we met. Despite the way she left --in the middle of the night without saying goodbye-- I don't want to ignore the crazy chemistry between us. I'm not an arrogant jerk; I know when a woman comes undone in my arms. And the way Lexie responded to me? It was fucking explosive.

"Why are we here? Li's dinner is tonight," Leo protests. I picked him up at his loft after work so we could go to Li's place together. In hindsight, he wasn't the best person to bring along with me, but I had to come to the bar tonight. I just need to see her. "Do you know how many women will be there? It's going to be a buffet, man." Leo insists as I park in front of the bar. I get out of the Jeep as fast as I can, so he doesn't follow me, but, of course, the fucker comes after me.

We walk into the bar, and it's as deserted as it was on Monday. The woman behind the counter smiles at us when we approach.

"Hi, guys! I'm Daisy. What can I do for you tonight?"

Leo winks at her. "I have a couple of things in mind, sweetheart."

I stare at him, and he shuts up. "I'm looking for someone who works here. Alexis Ortiz, she's a bartender."

She smiles at me. "Alexis quit this morning."

"Did she leave an address or a phone number?"

My heart sinks when the blond shakes her head. "She was kind of weird. She kept to herself." She looks at me and smiles again. "I'm free in an hour, though."

I don't want to be rude, but there's only one woman I want. "No offense, but I'm not interested."

I'm cut short by Leo, who grins at her. "You're embarrassing me, Walker." He gives her the same smile I've seen him give to a hundred women before her. "I'm Leo, sweetheart, and we're not free tonight, but I'll be happy to come by any other night."

She's grinning at Leo now, a flirty expression on her face. She sure moved on fast. I clear my throat. "Here's my card; if Alexis comes back, can you give it to her?"

She takes it. "Sure, no problem, but I don't think she will. She told Daniel she was leaving Cordonia and she wasn't coming back."

[homeofhousechickens]

what's your opinion on keeping domesticated birds (like pigeons) vs non-domesticated birds (like parrots) inside?

I'm asking bc I really want a bird, and I have some experience with budgies from my childhood. But I'm morally conflicted about having non-domesticated birds indoors, even with all the enrichment and walks (flights?) I can give these birds. I've seen people say that it's more humane if they're bought from a breeder or refuge, but I'm still unsure.

(Keep in mind everytime you bring a bird outside there is a biosecurity risk and your bird could get sick especially a parrot)

Pigeons easily thrive in indoor conditions and can safely bond with their owners with no health repercussions.

Keep in mind when i say bond i mean mate bond. Fluffernutter and Loki see me as their wife and their is no negative health benefits for pigeons associated with that.

Below is a picture of Fluffernutter brooding a fake egg at my desk. This is something you absolutly shouldnt do with parrots as it can and will effect them negatively.

My pigeons are from various backgrounds and they all make great pets. I dont think that parrots can be so adaptable the same way.

Loki was orginally a feral, Fluffernutter was bred as part as therapy bird project, and Emilio was retired from that same project, but before that he was a show bird.

But back to parrots, I believe most parrots are not ment for captivity at all especially Cockatoos.

My friend has a Cockatoo that he loves very much, but he regrets having her, he regrets that Cockatoos are apart of the pet trade in the first place. They are so intelligent but are so prone to fungal infections and self harm/plucking, it doesnt matter if you have a really good set up like my friend does sometimes the bird just becomes obsessed with mutilating itself.. that shouldnt be so common.

I also think birds like cockatiels and budgies do "alright" in captivity but they are at the mercy of mill breeders and people who raise imprints (if you raise purposefully human imprinted parrots you make me want to rip my hair out)

Cockatiels are prone to hormonal issues and reproductive issues where hens are prone to chronic egg laying and prone to SCREAMING when hormonal almost constantly. Both Cockatiels and budgies are such a shit show health-wise due to the mill breeding.

I believe parrots just do best in a large outdoor aviary set up with lots of constant changing enrichment, parrots who are raised by their parents in these sort of setups seem to produce more functional children who are less prone to mutilation. If you ever met a wild caught parrot who has been tamed down the differences between them and a typical mill bird are like night and day.

I also have seen so many parrots bring their owners stress and mental breakdowns due to their noise, health issues and destructive capabilities. At some point its unethical to the human for them to have a parrot.

Can you handle your parrot destorying your electrical cords and technology? What about your walls? Can you handle it if the parrot hates you and bites you and screams at all hours? Could you still provide it the constant enrichment it needs even for a lifetime?

In my opinion i just feel like the average pet owner cant handle that, and thats okay! Parrots really shouldnt be seen as easy or common pets as they are wild animals.

If you still want to open up your home to one I feel like there are 2 ways to go about, rescue a bird who is in need of home, or buy from a breeder who doesnt imprint and is actually working towards domestication.

Sometimes i get people who message me afraid and ashamed that they own parrots and that im going to judge them and that makes me sad.

I just believe their is a bunch of unethical stuff going on in the pet parrot trade for both humans and parrots.

It sucks that both parrots and owners suffer due to mill breeders and poor ownership education.

Pigeons and chickens are just alot quieter and less destructive. You can cuddle them and safely diaper them and they just make phenomenal pets.

They have lived with us in our homes or in a coop/loft as our livestock/pets for thousands of years and are very adapted to us and we are honestly adapted to them as well.

If your interested in pigeons or chickens feel free to dm me but if your still more interested in parrots im sure i have some wonderful followers who may be able to give their opinion or help you find a parrot for your home. As this is a chicken blog and my specialty is chickens.

(I also think its a bit strange so many people have birds who are from countries that dont allow those same native birds to be pets, instead those people get domesticated pigeons, canaries, chickens, ect as pets so im wondering why the rest of the world cant do the same?)

[lavenderboneswrites]

it’s me, kitty 🥺

👉🏻👈🏻 Shizuo and Izaya having a self care day?

they try face masks, watch movies, do their nails, eat junk food, anything that comes to your mind 🥰

Maybe they even have a bubble bath together 👀👀

I LOVE YOU BB YOURE THE BEST 💖💖💖💖💘💘💘🥰🥰🥰

Of course my beloved got her request in first <3 <3 I hope you enjoy it bb, I tried to fit as much as your fav tropes in as I possibly could. Thank you for always supporting me and letting me share my ideas with you <3 <3

I Feel it Coming

Words: 5352

Rating: Explicit

Tags: smut and fluff, shizaya, established relationship, self-care day, possessive Shizuo, light dom/sub (please check AO3 for a comprehensive list of tags)

AO3

When Shizuo gets home Izaya is nowhere to be seen.

It’s been a long day of chasing down debts and deadbeats. Shizuo sighs as he toes off his shoes at the entrance and loosens the clip on bowtie. Making a trail up the stairs and to his bedroom, Shizuo pulls off his vest off along the way. He takes care to hang it gingerly on the hanger behind the door, certain he can get a few more wears out of this one before it needed washing.

He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, loosened buttons showing off a white undershirt and the hint of defined pectorals. Most of the lights in the apartment were on, the bedroom lit by low lamplight. Izaya is obviously around, and yet he normally greets Shizuo boisterously; often from his desk because he’s forgotten to stop working.

Shizuo untucks his shirt, slipping out of his pants and letting white fabric slip below his thighs. He’s thinking he needs a shower, or maybe he’ll just fall straight into bed, but he follows the sound of running water to the en suite.

Izaya really has a ridiculous apartment. His bathroom is off his bedroom, and if you pass through it you’ll find yourself in a large walk-in wardrobe. For someone who only wears the same ugly coat everyday Izaya sure has a lot of clothes. Shizuo’s not complaining, when Izaya wears that cream oversized turtleneck it does things to him.

Shizuo follows the rush of water to the bathroom. Steam clouds the air, mixed with a pleasant floral smell. It’s dark in here, the only light an illumination of candles on the basin and other various other spots. Water is filling the bath, a mix of bubbles and rose petals on the surface. Heated tiles warm Shizuo’s feet and he can’t help but feel the tension of the day lifting slightly at the relaxing atmosphere.

Until he almost has a heart attack.

Standing in the entrance to the wardrobe is a man with a white mask over his face.

Shizuo stumbles back, heart racing a million miles an hour as the figure emerges from the dark.

“What the fuck!?”

Shizuo clutches his hand in his shirt as he tries to force his rabbiting heart to calm down.

“You look like a fucking serial killer!”

He’s still trying to calm down from the shock as the masked man attempts a grin.

“Welcome home to you too, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya’s dressed in a maroon bathrobe and on his face is one of those stupid beauty masks he loves so much. Though, the serial killer look is slightly dampened by the fluffy white headband with cat ears Izaya wears to keep his hair back.

Izaya slinks up to him, arms going to wrap around his neck and Shizuo’s hands automatically go to his waist. It’s almost like a pavlovian response at this point.

“I’m not kissing you when you look like this,” Shizuo grumbles out to which Izaya replies with only a chuckle.

It’s disconcerting. The mask has holes for his mouth and eyes, and a slit for his nostrils, but other than that he looks completely macabre.

Shizuo ignores his own words when he allows Izaya to place a small peck on his lips.

“What’s all this?” Shizuo asks, rubbing circles into Izaya’s hips absentmindedly.

“Mm?” Izaya makes his usual noncommittal noise. “I thought Shizu-chan would like some pampering after a long day at work.”

Honestly, that sounds absolutely wonderful to Shizuo right about now. He eyes the bath off, noticing two glasses of lemon and mint infused water on the hob next to it. No doubt one of Izaya’s own ‘self-care’ creations.

Izaya doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive and a sprinkling of manipulation, Shizuo thinks with his eyes narrowing back to his currently psychotic looking boyfriend.

“What’s the catch?”

“My, my … can’t I just be doing something nice for my boyfriend?”

“No,” Shizuo deadpans back to Izaya’s fake as shit voice.

He attempts to pout, but he can’t move his face muscles well without messing up the mask.

“Boo Shizu-chan, you’re no fun.”

“And you’re a pest,” Shizuo says as Izaya hangs off him like some sort of dramatic leach.

Izaya leans his head back, giving an over top groan as if Shizuo’s inability to react in the way he wants is his greatest annoyance.

“Come on,” Shizuo leans closer, mouth almost touching skin as he whispers low into his ear. “The sooner you tell me what you want the sooner you’ll get it, flea.”

Shizuo can feel the way the body in his arms tenses up momentarily, almost like a shiver going through him from the low tenor of Shizuo’s voice. Really, Izaya was pretty easy to handle once he learnt a few tricks.

One being that he was an incredibly horny fleabag.

Izaya is sliding his hands down Shizuo’s back, sweeping over the curve of his ass as he finds the hem of Shizuo’s shirt. He runs his fingers along the seam before sneaking under white fabric to press at his upper thigh.

“Hmm,” Shizuo pulls back to find copper eyes among a sea of white. Izaya’s hands on his skin are slightly distracting and just a little bit ticklish. “I want Shizuo to do a face-mask with me.”

“And?” Shizuo presses, digging the points of his thumbs into Izaya’s hips lightly.

“And have a bubble bath.”

Shizuo just pulls Izaya closer, pressing a swift kiss the crown of his head. “Alright louse, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”

Shizuo has a quick rinse off in the shower, afterwards changing into the navy bathrobe Izaya had brought to match his. It feels good to wash away the remnants of a long day, water beating down on his shoulders almost like a massage. Izaya’s shower had out of this world water pressure, honestly Shizuo was in love.

One face-mask later and the bath has finished filling. Steam is coming off the water, and Shizuo knows it’s still way too hot for either of them to get in. Though Izaya will probably try to early like always. He really was like some cold-blooded reptile, always trying to soak up as much heat as possible … usually from Shizuo himself.

Shizuo lets Izaya put his mask on. It was the best choice, considering the wet paper like cloth needed delicate handling and Shizuo would no doubt rip it immediately with his ‘monster’s paws’, as Izaya had said. He made sure to smack at Izaya with his monster paws for that comment.

The mask isn’t horrible. It’s wet and his vision is kind of obscured, and he doesn’t think it fits properly cause one side keeps curling down at his temple. Izaya had given him his own kitty ear headband to hold his fringe back, and the louse pesters him to take a few selfies together. Shizuo can’t help but snort at how ridiculous they look, kind of like a mannequin had a baby with a hockey mask.

They sit on the edge of the bathtub next to each other, sipping their drinks the best they can with the masks in the way. Shizuo eventually gets fed up and rips the sliver of paper between his nostrils and upper lip and Izaya almost chokes on his stupid lemon water laughing.

It’s cute.

It’s nice to just sit and talk, to take stock of each other’s day and catch up. Izaya plays footsies with him the entire time, and at one point Shizuo almost falls backwards into the bath trying to capture the louse’s calf between his feet.

Izaya’s hand is also rubbing once again against his thigh, sliding up under the material of his bathrobe. He massages his fingers into the muscles, pressing with precision into the knots hard enough to make Shizuo groan.

Izaya has a thing for his thighs. Shizuo doesn’t know why, but something about them makes the little pest go feral. They are thick and muscular, almost double the width of Izaya’s own legs and even if Shizuo didn’t see the appeal himself he’s happy to let Izaya have his fun.

Watching Izaya fuck himself against only his bare thigh really was a sight to behold.

After about ten minutes the face masks come off. Shizuo never could keep them on as long as Izaya; after a while it started to get too annoying and almost itchy. Still, Shizuo would be lying if he said it didn’t feel completely satisfying pealing the paper away from his skin.

He scrunches the mask into a ball, using it to rub the excess moisture of his face. Izaya folds his own mask much more neatly, leaning towards the mirror to inspect his skin as he wipes away any remaining excess.

Like every inch of that skin wasn’t flawless to begin with.

Shizuo rubs at his cheek, taking in how soft the mask has left his skin. He wasn’t that into self-care like Izaya was, but even he couldn’t deny these masks were magical.

Better was Izaya skin, which normally soft to the touch, became like silk under Shizuo’s fingertips. He can’t stop himself from reaching out, from cupping the flea’s cheek and rubbing his thumb against ivory skin.

It’s nice to finally see his unobscured face.

“Hey,” Shizuo’s turning that his to meet lips like satin in a soft kiss.

Izaya lets Shizuo set the pace to something slow and unhurried. He parts his mouth, tongue licking at the seam of Izaya’s lips before the other is turning to let him deepen the kiss further.

Shizuo licks into that wicked mouth with a careful consideration, letting Izaya’s taste flood over his tongue. There’s a hand twisting into the back of his hair and another once more kneading the flesh of his thigh.

Shizuo breaks the kiss slowly, dazzlingly eyes of whiskey alight with muted heat blinking softly back up at him.

“I’m home, Izaya.”

Izaya grins at the domestic phrase, rubs his nose against Shizuo’s and the little kiss is so cute that Shizuo can feel the tips of his ears go red.

“Welcome home, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya breath is like a whisper over his lips and Shizuo can’t help but mirror his smirk with a grin of his own.

Shizuo slips into the bath by himself, letting out a groan as the heat immediately relaxes the muscles in his back. It’s still way too hot. So hot that he can’t help but shiver, heat skittering almost painfully over sensitive nerve endings. And yet it feels like heaven, all of the tension flooding out of his body after a long day. He closes his eyes, letting his head lie back on the hob as he just soaks in the moment.

The patter of feet signal Izaya’s return. Shizuo opens one eye to see him standing before him with those same kitty ears and nothing else.

Izaya’s body is stunning. He’s lean and long limbed, but there’s a subtle grace to the way he holds himself. Shizuo always thinks of him as some kind of jungle panther. Light-footed. Slinking around like a predator. His waist is slim, and yet there is slight definition around his muscles, and his ass-, shit, his ass is a gift from God. Chasing the flea all those years had definitely paid off for him; and Shizuo was happy to enjoy the spoils too.

Izaya places a hand to Shizuo’s bicep as he steadies himself and steps into the water. Shizuo’s arm comes up to the small of his back automatically, ready to catch him at the first sign of a slip, but knowing Izaya it wasn’t necessary.

The flea slips into the space between Shizuo’s parted legs and leans back against his muscled chest. He lets out a little sigh as he submerges himself into the water up to his shoulders, obviously enjoying the heat sinking deep into his body just as Shizuo had. The noise is nice, something breathless and almost non-existent, something Shizuo is so attuned to he thinks he can almost hear it in his head rather than any physical sound.

Izaya’s leans his head back against his shoulder and Shizuo can’t help but wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him tighter against his front.

Izaya body fits perfectly against his, and not for the first time Shizuo is certain that flea was made for him.

The candles flicker with steam, and Shizuo thinks he could fall asleep right here and now.

Fwua!

A loud slapping sound breaks through his peace and Shizuo can feel giggles vibrating through Izaya’s back.

Opening his eyes again, Shizuo is met with the sight of Izaya scooping bubbles into his hands. He smacks them together quickly, the bubbles exploding into the air with his delighted giggles.

It’s too fucking cute.

“What are you, four?”

Izaya answers by twisting his neck to look over at Shizuo, a hand of foam raised and Shizuo’s barely has time to raise an eyebrow before bubbles are being blown into his face.

“Oi,” Shizuo hacks a cough, swallowing a great deal more soap than he ever wanted to. His eye twitches at the cheeky look in Izaya’s eyes and his grouchy tone really doesn’t match his own fond smile.

“Do you want me to drown you in this tub?”

Izaya pouts, “Shizu-chan don’t be mean.”

The pout cracks as his lips twitch up at the corners. Water splashes, the flea suddenly turning around fully and scooping up more bubbles.

“Shizu-chan let’s make you a bubble beard.”

“Haaah?”

“Haaah?” Izaya mocks, “come on old man.”

“I’m younger than you,” Shizuo quips back, trying to grab skinny wrists that keep trying to slap foam to his chin.

Wasn’t this supposed to be relaxing!?

Izaya’s attempts don’t ease up and he giggles as a ball of bubbles land delicately on Shizuo’s nose.

He narrows his eyes at his nose, as if the bubbles have personally offended him, and before Izaya can even get a yelp out Shizuo is shoving his head underwater.

Water goes over the sides of the tub and Izaya’s arms splash comically as Shizuo’s entire palm covers the crown of his head. He only gives it a few seconds before he lets up.

Izaya pops back up, hair sopping and stuck to his forehead as his kitty headband hangs pathetically around his neck. He splutters and coughs, attempting to glare at Shizuo as he rubs at his eyes.

Shizuo only gives a cocky raise of one eyebrow, as if to say ‘you started it’.

“Did you just try to drown me?” Izaya asks, his outrage fake as shit.

“You wanna go back under?” Shizuo threatens, but the tone is ruined by his wide smile.

Izaya grins, one shoulder coming up in a half-hearted shrug. He pulls off the headband around his neck, pouting at the state it’s in before flinging it over the side of the tub to the floor.

A glint flashes in Izaya’s eyes. It’s the only warning Shizuo gets before two hands are pressing down onto his head.

Shizuo plants his feet firmly on the bottom of the tub to stop from sliding, and Izaya’s wicked looked turns disappointed as Shizuo doesn’t budge an inch.

“Oi.”

Izaya’s eyes narrow into a look of determination, and he even gets to his knees as he tries to add even more force to Shizuo’s head.

“Why, won’t, you, die?”

Shizuo answers by letting himself suddenly slip under the water. The sudden loss of purchase has Izaya floundering and Shizuo swears he can hear him yelp through water.

Shizuo almost swallows an obscene amount of bath water from laughing before he pops back up. Izaya has slumped atop of him, arms around his neck as he holds his own head above water as if to keep himself from completely submerging.

Shizuo likes that. The way Izaya will always grab onto him, cling to him, whenever he loses his footing.

“Shizu-chan is so mean. Jail for a thousand years!”

Shizuo just chuckles, pushing Izaya’s fringe away from his forehead as he looks at him. He’s doing the face Shizuo loves, the one where his nose scrunches up oh so cutely. Shizuo loves that face, he wants to hoard it all to himself and never let anyone else see it.

If it got out Izaya was this cute Shizuo’s sure he’d have to beat off interested parties with a sick.

Mine.

Shizuo sits himself up, shaking his head like a dog to get the water out of his hair. Izaya squirms in his arms, but he doesn’t let go. Instead he manhandles the flea back into the same position they started in, with his back pressed to Shizuo’s chest, sitting between his legs.

There, Shizuo thinks triumphantly, Izaya’s wriggling getting less and less by the minute. He squeezes his thighs around the flea’s hips, wrapping his legs over the top of Izaya’s until he’s practically in a joint lock.

He’s really no match for Shizuo’s superior strength when it comes down to it. Still, it didn’t stop Izaya from trying to wrestle him daily.

“Have you calmed down you damn water rat?”

“Hmm,” Izaya hums as if he has no idea what Shizuo’s talking about. “Shouldn’t I be a water flea? Shizu-chan don’t you know it’s bad to mix metaphors?”

Shizuo just snorts at such a bratty response.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Izaya relents and relaxes back into his body and Shizuo can’t help but rub his nose against the back of his neck.

“You’re ridiculous,” Shizuo snorts into his skin, and he doesn’t need to see to know that Izaya is smirking.

He lets his lips and hands do the rest of the talking. Soft kisses trailing from Izaya’s neck to his shoulder and back again. He rubs his hands at the flea’s sides, making a path up and down slowly as he maps out every inch of creamy skin.

Izaya makes that soundless noise again, lips parted slightly as closes his eyes, focusing on sensation of Shizuo’s hands and lips on him. Shizuo’s touch is light, almost ticklish as he brushes fingertips across Izaya’s ribs, the water turning his path slick and easy.

Shizuo kisses are barely a press of lips to skin, so soft that it’s only the feel of his breath blowing out that makes Izaya’s skin erupt into goosebumps. Shizuo watches fascinated as that alabaster skin reacts before his very eyes.

Izaya’s got the faintest of freckles splayed across his shoulders, almost impossible to see unless this close. Shizuo loves to pick out each individual mark, a constellation of stars for his mouth to trace and follow. To worship and pay tribute to.

Shizuo rubs his hands from Izaya’s sides down to his hips, thighs, and back up again to his waist. Every time he trails down he moves a little bit further. Inch by torturous inch he teases skin until Izaya starts to squirm a little.

Heh.

Shizuo’s grin is wicked as he presses it under Izaya’s ear. His lips move up to brush against his pulse point and Izaya lifts his chin to allow Shizuo greater access.

Shizuo’s chuckle spills over skin for real and shivers are erupting once more over Izaya’s skin.

“Mmm?” Shizuo whispers a questioning noise, hands dipping past the heated flesh at Izaya’s inner thigh. “You like that flea?”

Izaya does a little jerk of his head, eyes closed and it really is too cute.

“Does it feel good?”

Shizuo breath is hot at his ear before he gives a playful nip to the flesh. He can feel the way Izaya’s breath hitches, the motion going through his back and making Shizuo’s own chest thrum with something primal and satisfied.

Shizuo’s rubbing his foot against Izaya’s calf muscle, feeling the way he squirms at the touch.

“What’s wrong?” Shizuo cheeks actually hurt from how wide he’s smiling. “Do you not like it?”

Izaya’s head shakes, the action almost frantic, and Shizuo rewards him by sliding the flat of his tongue over the muscle where his neck and shoulder meet.

His skin tastes clean and fresh, and Shizuo feels his mouth salivating with the desire to bite into that milky flesh. To see it bruised dark with his claim. He holds off though, content with just feeling Izaya beneath his hands, feeling the way his breathing goes a little faster at every dip closer to that heat between his legs.

“Does it feel good when I touch here?” Shizuo brushes his fingertips over Izaya’s ribs, taking in every little shudder as he whispers into his lover’s ear. “What about when I touch here?”

Shizuo’s hands trail inwards, and Izaya’s lips are parting in a gasp as his knuckles brush against the side of his cock.

“Ah, is there someone you want me to touch you flea?”

Shizuo rubs his fingers between Izaya’s thighs just above his knees, so close and yet so far, if the little whimper that escapes his lips is any indication.

Shizuo feels like an addict. There is just something about having Izaya in his arms, squirming and desperate for his touch and just … taking his time with him.

Dragging it out nice and slow.

Shizuo continues licking and sucking at the flea’s neck. Izaya has his hand trapped between his legs in a vice grip, and yet Shizuo still continues his slow, sweet touches.

He lets his touches turn rougher, digs bruises into pale skin as he sucks harshly on that spot beneath Izaya’s ear; the spot that makes him moan open-mouthed.

“Shizuo.”

His name is like a prayer on Izaya’s lips. Breathless and needy. Shizuo doesn’t know whether he’s begging for him to stop or begging for him to keep going, either way the sound sinks deep into his gut.

“Shizuo please.”

Shizuo’s grin goes impossibly wide, mouth gaping like a predator’s with its prey in its grasp. His lips find Izaya’s earlobe. He pulls the flesh into his mouth and sucks harshly.

It’s a dizzying juxtaposition. Wrenching his hand from Izaya’s thigh-crush, Shizuo grazes the tips of fingers over the head of his cock, the softest, slowest touch all night and it makes Izaya jolt.

“Fuck.”

Shizuo sucks hard at the flea’s neck, finger tips trailing down his shaft and to his navel. He rubs at the soft flesh there, relishing in the annoyed whine that Izaya makes as he moves away from his reddened cock.

“Shizuo,” he can hear the pout in Izaya’s voice.

“Look at you,” Shizuo releases Izaya’s ear with a wet sound, “I haven’t even played with your tits yet and this worked up.”

That whine becomes louder, more painful if possible, as if Izaya’s gritting his teeth together.

“Shizuo you better fucking touch me or I’m going to destroy all your stupid bartender outfits.”

It’s astounding. Izaya’s gripping his wrist so tightly Shizuo’s sure there will be indents of his nails left behind. How is it possible for him to still sound like such a vicious little thing when he’s desperately trying to put Shizuo’s unbudging hand to his leaking cock?

“Oi,” Shizuo growls low and Izaya’s body shivers fully at the sound. “Do you want me to drown you again?”

“Heh,” Izaya lips are quirking up, eyes hooded as he speaks out like silk and satin, “if you drown me there won’t be anyone around to suck your cock.”

Shizuo should’ve expected this. Expected Izaya would try to play dirty.

He was the definition of little brat that needed to be put in their place. Still, the words make his own dick jump, and he can’t help but press his erection harder into the swell of Izaya’s ass in warning.

“Oh?” Shizuo lets his tenor lilt upwards, “you wanna suck my cock that bad flea?”

Izaya snorts, and Shizuo can’t help but rub his nose against his neck in an overly affectionate gesture.

“Hey Shizu-chan,” Izaya’s turning his face, lips meeting lips in a sweet brush as he releases his death grip on Shizuo’s wrist.

Shizuo stares into dark, deep eyes; lets himself drown as Izaya presses his forehead to his.

“Yeah flea?”

Izaya eyes close, his mouth turning soft as he gives one of those rare smiles reserved just for Shizuo.

Shizuo’s eyes slip close, Izaya in his arms and his breath spilling across his face in a steady rhythm. It’s like an abstract concept become physical, a peace that Shizuo can literally hold within his hands.

Izaya dips his head to Shizuo’s neck, lips against skin as he whispers.

“I want you to tell me how badly I want to suck your cock … while you touch me.”

Shizuo’s eyes blow wide. His smile is going predator-like before he can even realise it.

Izaya was absolutely perfect.

Shizuo pulls Izaya’s body back with his, getting comfortable as Izaya settles himself in against his hold, nuzzling into his neck. Shizuo can’t help but shower his back in soft kisses.

“You want me to talk you through it baby?” Shizuo asks, letting his voice go softer. He’s cock is aching as Izaya shivers at the pet name. He forces it to the back of his mind, focus zeroing in on the body in his arms. “You look so good right now.”

Izaya just sighs and Shizuo rewards him with a kiss to his lips. It’s chaste and sweet, with the promise of something hotter simmering just beneath the surface.

He lets his hands slide through the water and up that irresistible body once more. This time when snakes his hand downwards he palms at Izaya’s cock lightly.

“Aah,” Izaya’s lets out this little moan, relief and pleasure all in one. As if not being touched had been painful, had been torture.

“That feel good? Being touched here?” Shizuo whispers a sonnet against Izaya’s neck. His eyes are wide open, mesmerized as he palms his hand with more force against the flea’s cock.

His hot in his palm, positively boiling compared to the cooling temperate of the water surrounding them. Shizuo enjoys the feel of him in his hands. Hot and heavy. Izaya has a nice cock, it’s long, not as thick as Shizuo’s but it curves nicely and his mouth waters at the sight of it.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock … for such an ugly flea.”

Izaya actually chuckles at the underhanded compliment and Shizuo feels himself flush at the sound.

Izaya was anything but ugly.

Shizuo’s certain even the most wicked of devils would repent at the beauty of his flea.

Mine, mine, mine.

Shizuo lets his touch stay slow and steady, matching his earlier exploration of Izaya’s body. He closes his fist around the shaft experimentally, the water making his slow pull even rougher.

Izaya’s head is thrown fully back onto his shoulder now. Eyes closed as he pants open-mouthed. His hips are doing these cute little jerk, moving in time with Shizuo’s hand, and every brush of his ass against Shizuo’s cock makes him want to groan out loud.

“Look at you, I bet you’re imagining it aren’t you?” Shizuo fists the head of Izaya’s cock with the barest of pressure and the other is whimpering. “My cock in your mouth … the taste of me on your tongue.”

“Ah-ah.”

Shizuo’s pace is increasing, fist going tighter as his words climb higher.

“You look so good with your mouth stuffed with my cock, baby,” Shizuo’s whispers are turning harsh in his ears. “God you feel so good around me. So wet.”

Shizuo’s eyes are closing and he can feel it. That warm wet heat enveloping him, almost overwhelming in its sensation.

“You want it so badly don’t you? Tell me how badly you want my cock.”

“Y-yes!” Izaya’s voice comes out high pitched and desperate. “I-, I want your cock … I-I need it.”

Shizuo rubs his hard dick against the crack of Izaya’s ass, in time with the flea’s desperate thrust. His lips are wet and wide against Izaya’s neck, kisses turning careless as he sucks and bites with abandon. Izaya’s body is going taunt in his arms, toes curling against the tub, abdominals clenching so tight it almost looks painful. His body is on the edge of trembling, pulled so tight Shizuo can feel that tension almost about to snap.

“Fuck baby,” Shizuo lets his voice go rough, lets it go needy.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Shizuo gives a feral growl, Izaya’s squirming and splashing in his arms as he sets a relentless pace against his cock. Shizuo twists his fist as he pulls up, water sloshing over the sides at his frantic pace. He fists the head tightly, twisting in a way that makes Izaya keen out like he’s been kicked in the gut.

“N-need you, fuck I need you baby.”

“Ah-, ah-, Shizuo!”

Shizuo’s desperation sends Izaya over the edge. The body in his arms tenses, like an electric current is running through it and then he’s shaking apart, moaning long and loud as Shizuo strokes him through his orgasm, never letting up as his cock spurts white into water.

He keeps stroking him. Izaya’s breathing is ragged as he collapses boneless atop Shizuo.

Eventually he slows his motions, letting his hand come to a steady stop as he feels all the little aftershocks shivering through the body in his arms. Izaya’s eyes are closed and Shizuo thinks he might have fucked him stupid.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Oi,” Shizuo presses a kiss to Izaya’s temple. “Don’t fall asleep flea.”

Shizuo can’t keep the smile out his voice. He has literal perfection in his arms, had that same perfection coming and calling out his name. His heart feels fit to burst…

His cock definitely is.

“Mm, Shizu-chan is such a sadist,” Izaya finally mumbles a response. He sounds dazed, like he’s intoxicated and on the verge of blacking out.

“Guess it’s a good thing you’re such a masochist then, huh?” Shizuo says between kisses to the smattering of stars over Izaya’s shoulder.

“Hmm,” Izaya’s eyes are cracking open, staring unseeing at the ceiling as he brushes a hand through the water absentmindedly. “The bath is dirty now.”

Shizuo snorts, “and who made it dirty, louse?”

“Shizu-chan should take responsibility, after all, it’s all his fault,” Izaya quips back, turning to press a smirk into Shizuo’s neck.

“Youbetter take responsibility,” Shizuo grumbles, pressing his still raging erection against Izaya’s backside in case he’d somehow forgotten about it.

Unlikely.

“But I’m tired,” Izaya whines pathetically, and Shizuo half kind of wants to drown him again. “Shizu-chan’s torture was relentless!”

Shizuo chuckles at that, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and into Izaya’s back.

“Surprised you just didn’t slip it in mid torture,” Izaya lilts with his usually vulgarity and yeah Shizuo should definitely drown him.

“Too tired,” Shizuo deadpans, “you do some work flea.”

“Heh, be careful what you wish for Shizu-chan.”

They end up in bed, barely dry as Izaya’s swallows down Shizuo’s cock like a man starving. Shizuo’s exhausted, splayed out on the bed as he hovers blissfully between the edge of sleep and the pleasure of Izaya’s hot mouth wrapped around him.

It doesn’t take long for him to come. Not long until he’s body is shaking apart and he’s calling Izaya’s name. He trembles as Izaya sucks him dry of every, last, drop.

Shizuo feels hazy, his skin hypersensitive from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He’s drifting off to sleep, Izaya snuggling in beside him and pulling the blanket up.

“Shizu-chan has tomorrow off, right?” Izaya asks innocently, and Shizuo thinks he brushes his hand through the flea’s hair but he’s not quite sure in his half-awake daze.

“Yeah.”

“Will Shizu-chan make me breakfast?”

Shizuo’s eyes are slipping closed again, the sight of Izaya tucked under his arm and snuggling into his neck the last thing he sees.

“Yeah flea,” he’s mumbling in his sleep, “do … anything…”

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Guerrerita

Part 2 ->

Summary: Nevada takes you out on a fancy date and things go poorly.

Nevada Ramirez x Feral Female Reader

Warnings: allusions to domestic violence but no actual domestic violence, just some assumptions based on Nevada being generally an asshole.  A bit of regular violence though. (OK, you know that trope where the Honorable Tough Guy beats up a stranger’s abusive husband to teach him a lesson?) Mature content, but no smut this chapter.

1,796 words

While most people would consider a romantic dinner at a sophisticated restaurant relaxing, everything about it had you on edge. It was too fancy for you to belong there, even in the elegant dress Nevada bought for you. The dress was too form-fitting, too low-cut. It made your cleavage look ample, and though you were getting accustomed to wearing such pieces in your new employment, your confidence in the feminine was still lacking.

You hunkered low in your seat, trying to be as small as possible so no one would look at you. Of course your nervous fidgeting only made them look more.

Not helping matters was your date, sitting across from you at the small, intimate dining table. Nevada Ramirez cocked his brow sarcastically as he made an inappropriately sexual comment about the aforementioned dress, and the aforementioned way your breasts looked in it.

“It’s almost distracting enough that you don’t notice the—” he gestured at your face with a mocking smirk, and laughed almost cruelly as he saw your eyes flash wide. 

Your jaw clenched and you thought of a million biting comebacks you could shoot at him, and briefly envisioned flipping over the table and decking him, but instead you shrunk further in your chair.

“Come on, guerrerita, don’t be like that,” he frowned. He seemed genuinely upset that you were shriveling instead of being riled into taking his bait.

Never in a million years would you have imagined yourself with an asshole like Nevada. Vulgar, loud, rough around the edges. A gang leader who earned the nickname of a ruthless dictator. But your life had been in a downward spiral, and Trujillo found you at the bottom of it. He recruited you into the crime family, and gave you a purpose when everything in your law-abiding life was falling apart.

It was a recent development that you’d admitted your feelings for each other, and until now your relationship (outside of work) had been limited to passionate, desperate, intense sex. Fucking Trujillo was like fucking the illegal fireworks he sold, but this was the first time you’d allowed yourself to be seen out in public with him—in decent company, anyway.

He’d insisted on taking you out to celebrate with something nice, just the two of you. None of his men lurking over your shoulders. Something he thought you’d want, even though all you wanted was to go back to the Heights and rip his clothing off. Now you were too pissed off and embarrassed to even want to fuck him.

You thought he might tone himself down for the upscale venue, but Vada had been his usual obnoxious self all night, and more genteel diners were glaring. Honestly, this was why you couldn’t stand him at first, even though he was incredibly handsome. But his boorish exterior belied a cunning, organized businessman who had all of Washington Heights under his thumb, who earned his community’s loyalty through fear, yes, but ultimately, by taking care of them. There was, underneath the showy performances of flippant laughter and casual brutality, a certain sensitivity you had grown keenly protective of. 

He saw the value in things others overlooked. He recognized all the anger and pain stamped inside you behind those mild suburban manners—things polite society considered flaws—and told you that you were exactly what he needed. That those things were an asset to him. That you were valuable. 

No one ever said that to you before. 

You weren’t in love with him. He would always be a ruthless criminal, and one day you’d want your normal life back. But you had grown… attached.

One of the glaring diners was eyeing Nevada with particular suspicion, not just briefly glancing up when he laughed too loud or made a rude remark to the waiter. He shot Vada a profoundly dirty look and held it long enough to raise your hackles. He sat at the bar about four table lengths away, had shoulder-length hair, a messy stubble beard, and a solid physical build. You would have mistaken him for a surfer except you were on the wrong coast, and your instincts told you he was dangerous. You quietly assessed the potential threat while maintaining your meek posture low in the chair. A cop? Or a rival gang leader? Unlikely to make a move inside the restaurant with so many witnesses. You’d watch the exits when it was time for the check.

The waiter brought the main course to the table, and blessedly, digging into a meal finally shut up Nevada’s feisty tongue. Instead of sleazy remarks, he made small-talk about how good everything tasted. Maybe it wasn’t just having his mouth stuffed that mellowed him. There was a softness in his eyes now—a look reserved for when you were alone together, when he knew something was bothering you. You guessed he finally caught on that you were not having a good time.

Nevada never took anything seriously, until suddenly he did. You’d seen him throw opponents off balance by dropping from sardonic laughter to spine-chilling hostility, and the effect was equally potent when he dropped into affection.

His foot bumped into your leg—those shiny black leather shoes that looked like someone cut off a tacky cowboy boot at the ankle—and slowly brushed against it under the table. It wasn’t an aggressively sexual maneuver, just an affectionate contact letting you know he was there. It worked. You lanced a slice of filet mignon on your fork, and felt your shoulders relax with his change in attitude. It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of his leg spread tingling waves through your skin, making your face flush. A private, intimate moment, like a sharing secret. That was the most thrilling part of the relationship, really—the secret that the fearsome Trujillo had a tender side. In a way, you were like two opposite halves that fit together perfectly.

Before long, you were comfortable enough to start gushing about the day’s victory you were there to celebrate, and the staring stranger had slipped entirely from your mind.

***

You excused yourself to use the bathroom, and as you washed your hands in the mirror, you got a good look your swollen black eye. You’d taken a glove to the face hard, but it opened your opponent’s guard and let you hit them back harder until they went down, and you walked away with prize money from the biggest tournament you’d ever won. Nevada was so turned on by your aggression, it took all his willpower not to barge into the locker room and fuck you right then and there. Instead, he treated you to dinner at a nice place like a gentleman, which was a very sweet, if misguided effort.

The bruise had spread and darkened in the hours since you received it, and your makeup no longer did anything to hide it. And there you were all innocent, in a cute little dress, slouching nervously across from a character from Breaking Bad. Oh fuck, no wonder everyone was giving him dirty looks.

An icy fist clenched around your heart as you remembered surfer-hair sitting at the bar, and you suddenly didn’t feel right about leaving Nevada unguarded. You shook the water off your hands and rushed back out into the dining area.

You were just being paranoid, of course. No one would start a fight in the middle of the restau—

Fuck.

Your table was empty. And so was that spot at the bar.

Worst-case scenarios ran through your head and your field of vision narrowed. A waiter hurried past with a tray of dirty dishes and you grabbed him by the arm hard enough for several plates to go flying as you whipped him around. “Did you see where the man at that table went?!” you demanded, pointing.

Indignant protests died half-formed on the surprised waiter’s lips and turned to terror at your intensity. “I-I think he went out to smoke! The side door!”

You dropped his arm without a thank you and marched with purpose to the door, which pushed open into a dim back alley.

“If you ever lay a hand on her again—” surfer-hair was snarling, pinning Nevada against the side of a metal dumpster, fist raised about to strike. 

Nevada’s lip was bleeding, but he wore a cocky grin, letting fly a string of filthy Spanish expletives. 

“You think it’s funny beating on a helpless girl? Let’s see how you like it.”

Nevada was scrappy, but not especially large. He’d gotten in a few hits, but was losing, badly. He was more the brains of his criminal operation, which was why he was always accompanied by protection. And now you were seeing red.

The man got off another punch to Nevada’s smirking face before you could reach them, the dull impact unlocking a boiling rage that rose in your blood and turned you into someone you wouldn’t recognize once the heat had passed. As he reared back for another, you used his momentum to keep him sailing backwards, off balance. 

“DON’T YOU”—you kicked him in the chest, staggering him back—“FUCKING TOUCH HIM!” you roared. 

Carrying forward on the momentum of the kick, you threw your entire body into punch after brutal punch, hissing and snarling like an animal, driving him back and down, your primal fury relishing the sensation of fists slamming into solid flesh and bone. You were going to break this fucker for daring to hurt Trujillo. “I will kill you! I will kill you!” you screamed, thrashing him in a relentless onslaught that never gave him an opening to regain his footing. The man might have given a better showing, but he was still recovering from the shock of being beaten senseless by a demon he had assumed was a fragile soul in need of rescuing.

You felt a hand grasp your shoulder and threw a vicious elbow, stopping yourself inches before seeing whose nose it was you were about to shatter. “Princesa, princesa—calmate. Tranquila, baby girl…” he cooed, pulling you off.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” you kept shrieking, legs and arms kicking out at the air, trying to continue raining blows down on your enemy as Nevada restrained you. You struggled against Nevada’s arms, your hammering pulse chanting murder in your ear, but never striking a blow against him. Even in a blind rage, your instincts recognized he was yours to protect.

In the way his long fingers gripped you, the rhythm of his breath in your ear, and how close he held his body firm against you, he was clearly turned on. 

He cackled at the would-be do-gooder. “You don’t wanna mess with an MMA champ’s boyfriend, comemierda. I don’t think she’s kidding! Better run while you can.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, guarding his face. “Who the hell are you people?”

Nevada’s smile could have split his face in two. “She’s my bodyguard.”

[legoshi-plz]

Late Night Visitor (Riz x Reader)

Summary: It’s late at night and Riz catches you by yourself. Looks like Herbivores aren’t his only prey. Dark!Riz x Domesticated Dog! Reader

Part Two

Warnings: Smut (NSFW +18), Dark! Non-Con. TW: For Rape, Abuse, Mention Of Past Victims, etc.

///////////

“H-Hello?” Silence. It must have just been the wind.

You knew you shouldn’t be alone in the auditorium by yourself this late at night and that a teacher could come give you detention at any moment but you really needed to practice. Louis said the dance solo slot in the next Drama Club Showcase was as good as yours if you could prove to him you were the best dancer there. You knew you weren’t but you were the most creative by far and as long as you could perfect the routine you had fine-tuned especially for your body and capabilities, there was no way he couldn’t give it to you.

You knew there was always the possibility he wouldn’t give it to you anyway just because you were a Carnivore. Not just any Carnivore, a domesticated dog, the clumsiest your Canine clan had to offer. Certain moves that were cakewalks for the more graceful and agile Carnivores, like Juno, had you stumbling in seconds. But what you lacked in equilibrium, you made up for in determination.

The auditorium doors opened and shut. Your ears weren’t deceiving you, you definitely weren’t alone.

“Hello?” More silence.

“I know you’re there.” More silence. You walked to the front of the stage and saw a large figure standing by the door.

“I was just about to leave,” you called out in case it was a teacher. Something in the back of your mind told you if it was a teacher, they would have spoken up by now.

The figure stepped closer, approaching you slowly. Your eyes finally adjusted enough to the lack of light and you could make out who it was. It was a grizzly bear, he was in the same year as you in the Art Department of the Drama club. You were a little embarrassed to admit you didn’t really know anything about him, you had never really noticed him. What was his name again? Ralph? Razz? Rick? Ri-Riz!

“Riz, is that you?” You said lightly. He was now directly in front of you standing below the stage.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” He asked. His voice was so friendly. You could recall speaking to him a few times before in passing, he was always so friendly. It was such a contrast to his aura, which your dog instincts found downright menacing. You scolded yourself for your own ingrained prejudice. You had to give him the benefit of the doubt, you were both Carnivores after all. If Carnivores didn’t stick up for each other, who would?

“I was just practicing. The Winter Showcase is right around the corner.” You laughed dryly. His beady eyes never left you for a second. It was unnerving.

“You shouldn’t be here all alone. There’s monsters out there.” He stepped onto the stage as if it was any other measly step and not nearly a four feet drop.

“Monsters....? Like who?” you noticed his frame, where intimidating before, was downright massive now. He hadn’t always been this big, you were sure of it. You would have noticed right?

“Like me.” Silence. More silence.

Once your mind finally wrapped around what he had said, your legs immediately took off only to have him slam you into the ground before you could even make it off the stage. When you tried to crawl away he grabbed you by your ankle and drug you back to him.

“Now you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” He growled, his sharp fangs barred.

You knew occasionally when an animal was extremely desperate, they would eat other Carnivores but it was such a rare occurrence, nearly unheard of in today’s society. It was especially rare for female dogs, their meat was highly unfavorable to the palette so they were rarely devoured however they did come in as the number one demographic of victims for a.... different type of assault.

Riz ripped away your uniform, tearing it nearly to shreds. Your blood turned cold as you realized exactly what he planned to do.

“No... no Riz, please!” You begged trying to cover yourself. He chuckled then proceeded to rip your underwear off, not worried about your bra.

Domesticated Female Dogs were the number one victims of rape from male carnivores of all species. They were seen as docile, weak, and in some instances, traitors to the animal race. They were also easy targets. No one ever believed a Carnivore when they were attacked. They were supposed to be able to defend themselves right? Right?

Riz seemed intent to show you just how wrong you were.

“Please, Riz, you don’t have to do this!” You screamed thrashing beneath him. He grabbed you by your neck, lifting you slightly then slamming you back down to the ground. Your ears started ringing.

“You sure have a lot to say to me now? I can remember you not even knowing I was alive.” He grumbled, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. Of course he went commando.

“I’m sorry! Please, let me go, I’ll do better!” You were near hysterical now, the panic having fully set in.

“Too late,” He sighed in content, ripping your legs apart and settling between then. His menacing girth already standing at attention.

He spit into his hand, pumping his swollen length then lining himself up with your entrance. He thrust once, stretching you way beyond your limit.

“Wait, please, just give me a second. You’re gonna tear me in two with that thing!” You cried, placing a hand on his stomach to try and keep him at bay.

“That’s the whole point,” he chuckled, pushing more, “ but I’m not a total bastard. I’ll make you a deal, kiss me and I’ll think about going slow.”

“Y-you can’t be serious-“

“One time offer, take it or leave it,” he pushed further and you could have wept at the pain.

“Fine, fine, fine! I’ll do it, I’ll kiss you just please give me a second!” You sat up on your elbows, wondering how the hell you were going to reach up to kiss his massive form.

He leaned down to meet you halfway before murmuring, “Try anything funny and I’ll break your jaw.”

You gulped and allowed him to kiss you. Without warning, he pushed his entire length into you, making you cry out in pain. This was all the opportunity he needed to shove his tongue down your throat to silence you. Just when you thought you were about pass out from lack of oxygen, he finally let your lips go with a cocky grin.

He wasted no time pumping into you, each thrust feeling like a punch to the gut. He was way too big for the shamefully inadequate amount of prep you endured. If things were different, if the two of you were actual lovers, if he actually gave a damn about this feeling good, you knew it would. There were small wisps of pleasure mixed in with the overall guilt and pain of him fucking you and you couldn’t help but imagine how amazing this would have felt if any other circumstances had brought the two of you together. But not this. This was demeaning. This was force. This was ra-

“The least you could do is look at me when I fuck you!” Riz’s voice thundered. Your eyes shot to his hulking form sweating on top of you. Something was wrong with him, besides the fact he was forcing his dick inside you. He didn’t look like he usually did, something in him had snapped. Even his eyes, which were almost friendly twenty minutes ago, looked absolutely feral now. He almost looked... wild.

“Tell me how good this feels! Tell me how much you love this,” Riz was going at a near bone breaking speed now and you were struggling to stay in rhythm just so you could avoid the worst of his strength. He was too caught up in his own delusional fantasy to realize you were gyrating away from him.

His claws suddenly wrapped around your throat. His fangs were glistening in saliva, his entire disposition showcasing his carnal hunger.

“Do it or I’ll fucking rip your throat out?” He growled, one claw hovering over your kill point. Your body clenched in fear.

“It-It f-f-fee-“

“Louder!”

“It feels so good! Nobody’s ever fucked me like this! Your cock’s so huge! I love it!” You yelled but you were only rewarded with his muderous laughs.

“Fuck! You just got so fucking tight! That does it for you, huh? You get turned on when I threaten to kill ya?” His grip tightened on your throat, this time completely constricting your airways. You thought this was going to be the time you actually passed out but right as your vision turned tunnel, he let you go, cumming deep inside you.

“Fuuuuuuck, if I had known it was going to be that good, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He panted on top of you. You were still gasping for air, having finally been released from his hold.

He pulled himself out of your wrecked womb and watched completely mesmerized as his cum leaked out of you. He tucked himself back into his pants and stood, adjusting his uniform.

“Tell anybody about this and I’ll have to kill you, just like I killed the last one,” Riz said casually, hopping off the stage and out the auditorium doors.

Your entire body felt grotesque. It was like your fur wasn’t your fur anymore, like your limbs weren’t even your limbs anymore. You couldn’t even bare to pick yourself up you were so ashamed. It was as if he took your body with him, as if... as if...

As if you belonged to him now.

[darkh0wl]

Bad dog. || Solo (ft. Morgan)

TIMING: The day after Where is your body? SUMMARY: Kyle reflects on his actions, past and present, and makes a decision to leave. CONTENT: medical blood tw (stitches and injuries), domestic abuse (implied), head trauma tw (brief mention), gun use tw (brief mention), suicide tw (implied), car accident tw (hit and run), PTSD cw (flashback) **PLEASE do not hesitate to let me know if I missed anything**

The floor was hard. Uncomfortable. Kyle slept fitfully, but he slept deeply. He awoke for the first time in over a week, to a silent mind. The silence carried the weight of his guilty conscience. The bright light of midafternoon shone across his face, and Kyle squinted and covered his eyes. When had he gone to sleep? He couldn’t properly remember. Stiffly, carefully, he sat up and began assessing the condition of his injuries. He knew that wolves healed fast in theory, but to feel it happening was something entirely different. Still, he could feel that his ribs had been broken when the car struck his side. As he stretched, he could feel the road rash that left his skin feeling taut. Kyle hissed in pain and took a moment to breathe. He didn’t want to overdo anything, but he was hungry.

For the first time, Kyle looked around and really assessed his surroundings. The care with which he’d been tucked in under a thick, warm blanket had to be Morgan’s doing. He ran his fingers along the edge of the blanket and frowned. He didn’t deserve this respect. Looking around the room, instantly he knew he wasn’t downstairs anymore, but he couldn’t clearly remember moving from the basement. Actually, come to think of it, he couldn’t clearly remember most of the night. Was that because his mind had been feral for over half of the night? Or was that because he had struck his head at some point? The way his skull seemed to pulse dully, he guessed it was the latter. Looking around, Kyle’s eyes met the cold, glassy stare of a stuffed opossum and he couldn’t hold in the startled gasp that left him. What the fuck? The possum wasn’t the end of it. There were bones, a squirrel, a rat… Where was he? Was this meant to be a thinly veiled threat? Kyle chuckled at the idea of that. Maybe he’d have ended up a pelt in this room if things had gone differently.

Kyle gritted his teeth and hoisted himself to his feet with a muffled groan. That hadn’t felt very good. Hopefully Bex was feeling better. Bex. Where was she? How was she doing? Kyle limped to the door to peek out, and realized the building he was in wasn’t actually connected to the house. It made sense; they didn’t trust him. This meant there would be no sneaking to see Bex and check on her. He sighed and turned back toward the room. Spotting a crisply folded pile of clean laundry, Kyle wandered over. On top was a note from Morgan.

“Kyle,

There's food in the mini fridge. Don't touch your bandages. Don't touch any of the tools. Please hydrate. Mind the cats if they come exploring. I'll come check on you later.

-Morgan”

He crushed the note in his fist and slammed his fist down against the counter. How could he have been so reckless? How could he have let himself get so worked up that he nearly killed someone? Not someone, Bex. He’d only just started getting to know the girl, through her own thoughts no less, and now he owed her a lifetime of apologies. He could still feel how easy it had been to sink his claws into her chest. He had liked it. He had wanted her dead. Kyle’s stomach growled and he had to shake his head to stop the thoughts of how he had nearly eaten Bex. Food. Mini fridge. Got it.

Hands shaking, Kyle pulled the clean clothes on and wandered to the mini fridge. He found pizza rolls and honestly had to smile. Had they gotten these for him, or did Morgan have the same taste in microwavables? His smile faded slowly into a scowl. He didn’t deserve this kindness. They were treating him so well and for what? Kyle wished Nell had just sunk the blade into his throat. He wished that she had just decided that he was enough of a threat to-- Again, Kyle shook his head to get rid of the thoughts. His vision swam when he did so, and his head throbbed again. Pizza rolls. Water. Eat. Drink. He just had to focus on one thing at a time and he could stay calm, stay human. But his mind kept wandering back over and over. Bex. Claws. Headlights. Bex. Claws. Headli-- The beeping of the microwave startled Kyle out of his thoughts. He took the molten pizza bites out of the microwave and immediately popped one into his mouth, burning it. Something about the pain distracted him from the growing urge to shift in his panic.

After his stomach had something in it, Kyle felt a little better. He explored the art studio, if that’s what this was meant to be, opening cabinets and drawers and ignoring Morgan’s request to not touch the tools. He found a bin of small animal bones and sat at a desk, taking them out and looking them over. It was strange to see himself in the bones in a sense. This was essentially what he was, was it not? Absently, he started forming the pile of bones into shapes and letters. First an I, then an M. Next was the S and the O, and soon, he’d spelled out “I’M SORRY.” Kyle sighed and rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t tired anymore, but he didn’t want to think right now. He laid down again, curling up beneath the blanket again. He stared at the wall without seeing it until he drifted back off to sleep.

When Kyle woke back up, it was dark and he was stiff. He got up again with some effort and caught the sound of a phone vibrating across the room. Stumbling over to the counter, he realized it was his phone. Bex was texting him. What should he say? Should he respond to her? Would she hate him? All she’d said was “hi,” and he was losing his mind about it. He wanted to tell her that he was glad she was alive and he couldn’t believe it. He wanted to tell her he was sorry and he didn’t expect or want her forgiveness. He wanted to tell her to leave him alone; not for his sake, but for hers. He wanted to tell her he was dangerous. If Bex could tell how upset he was, she didn’t show it. Was she upset with him? She had to be. She would be crazy if she wasn’t. Bex was so level-headed with him; so calm.

But then Nell fucking Vural was texting him, and Kyle saw red. How dare she call him irresponsible when she didn’t know how hard it had been to stay calm with Bex in his head. The audacity of Nell to call out his relationship with his mother. What did she know about his family life? Nell hadn’t even known Kyle back then; they weren’t friends in high school. Kyle paced back and forth across the art studio, limping the whole way. His gut coiled with seething anger and he had to focus on breathing steadily. How dare Nell suggest he wanted to hurt Bex? How dare she call him irresponsible!

Kyle’s fist connected with the wall before he had thought about what he was doing. The drywall crumbled away and he had to yank his hand back out of the wall. His knuckles were split and bloody and he cradled his hand against his chest, sinking to the floor. Tears pricked at his eyes and he had to blink them away. The pain in his hand grounded him, but it also reminded him of a time when he was young and his mother would kiss his pains away and hug him so tightly that he forgot he’d even been hurt. That was a long time ago. Before he disappointed them with everything he did. He couldn’t stop the tears, as they finally fell. His grades slipped, he hung out with the wrong people, his parents fell out of love. When they divorced, they had argued over who he’d live with; it wasn’t because they had both wanted custody, but because he’d been a problematic child and neither of them wanted custody. When he was attacked by that wolf in the woods, Kyle had almost convinced himself that this would somehow bring his parents back together. They were both worried about him, so maybe it would make things better. It hadn’t.

That first moon, Kyle wasn’t even aware he was a werewolf yet. It had been shortly before his dad moved to Castle Rock. His parents were arguing in the living room while Kyle’s body ripped itself apart. God, had it hurt. He didn’t remember attacking his mom; he wasn’t in control of himself that night. But he could clearly remember his dad firing a gun at him. He’d missed and Kyle couldn’t tell if it had been on purpose or not. Kyle woke the next morning in the woods; cold, naked, and scared out of his mind. When his parents found him, they told him they’d figure this out together. His mother had had rows of stitches on the outside of both of her arms. Defensive wounds, clearly made by claws.

Kyle curled in on himself on the floor, tightly gripping his middle as he shook with his sobs. He didn’t know how long he sat there, letting himself cry, but he had to get out of there. He had to go. He didn’t want to do that again, not to anyone, and the longer he stayed here, the higher the chance of a repeat. Through his tears, Kyle sent Bex a text, promising to pay for the damages. He grabbed his things, a water bottle, and the bag of pizza bites, and Kyle stumbled into the darkness; barefoot, limping, and feeling more alone than he could remember feeling in his life.