#this is why I'm so hesitant LMAO

[mochiwrites]

so uh. haha. with the first rewritten crime au fic up... is now a good time to mention that the au @idioddyssey and I are thinking about changing from mumscarian to purely scarian is the good crimes au? 👉👈

let me be clear: the story doesn't change if it's only scarian. mumbo will still be a part of the main trio and his role in the story isn't disrupted. he just... well, he wouldn't be holding hands romantically with grian and scar. now that isn't to say mumscarian is completely off the table for crime au. if the story ends up naturally leaning that way as stellar and I write then it happens! but we're both considering flipping it to scarian only 👉👈

so uhm. uhm. would you guys still read crime au if it was purely scarian with mumbo there as the best friend suffering (in a silly way) over watching scar and grian fall for each other? 👉👈

[mobius-m-mobius]

You wanna hear a good story? Listen to this one.

Mobius + comfort

[raayllum]

me watching Paula getting asked "Would Rayla doom the world for Callum?" and her saying "Uh... No" i'm

[politemagic]

contemplating releasing some of these blurbs from draft jail

[serabellyms]

  PLOTTED STARTER !     ⤷ @downs1de ✧ rustin cohle.

Finally, finally, she'd been able to take some leave. It was difficult, given the intensity of her training, but now that there were final evaluations for those who'd be deemed N7 status (and her passing all of the previous levels with flying colours), she had time to wait until she'd know whether she'd been chosen for such an esteemed vocation. It'd been a difficult journey, and so far... she'd passed. Now, she had a chance to take a break, and she’d sent a message to Rust, letting him know where she was staying if he’d like to come visit. She hadn’t received a message back, but she figured he’d see it eventually.

What she didn’t expect was hearing a knock at her door late at night. She was up in a flash, grabbing her sweater and pulling it over her head to conceal the garish scars that marred her arms and shoulders. Who would be coming at this hour? She hadn’t received any messages; surely if it was emergent, one of her COs or her training officers would’ve sent her a message. Raising a hand, she pulled her pistol close with her biotics, setting it out of sight in case of an intruder, but somewhere she’d know where it was. No need for her to answer the door holding it; she didn’t exactly need a gun to defend herself, after all.

Opening the door, she was... surprised at what she saw. Dishevelled was one way to describe it; clothing rumpled, tie loosened, and a half-abused bouquet of flowers that looked like it'd been bought hours ago. The only saving grace was his hair; it always looked like that, a little tousled. The rest was easy to figure out; even if she couldn't smell the alcohol yet, she certainly knew the look of a man who'd had one too many drinks.

At least he'd taken a cab, identified by the car that was leaving now that she'd opened the door. Oh, god, what did you do? At least he looked... okay, for the most part. No bruises or cuts, which mean no fights, but something had happened. Sighing softly, she reached for his arm to gently coax him inside, resigning herself to... whatever this was. If he'd come to her in this state, there had to be a reason he'd picked her over everyone else.

"C'mon," she encouraged, guiding him to the couch. "Do you... want some coffee, or do you just want to sleep it off?" Either option didn't matter to her; she doubted she'd be sleeping much, given she'd be too damn busy worrying. Once he was sitting, she pulled two glasses from the cupboards, filling them both with water; if nothing else, she’d get him to drink at least one glass of water, and she herself probably needed one. Of course, water wasn’t the only thing she grabbed; reaching into the fridge, she juggled one of her usual electrolyte drinks, knowing that ought to be a hell of a hangover cure for a non-biotic.

Setting the glass down in front of him as well as the bottle, she took a seat next to him, sipping the second glass of water herself. “Drink. The water first, then that. It’ll at least save you from being dehydrated in the morning. They’re, uh—they give them to us after… long stints groundside.” Hopefully he wasn’t apt enough to notice her cover-up; she’d yet to tell him about their real purpose: to keep biotic soldiers hydrated, given the amount of calories and electrolytes burned in combat generating and controlling mass effect fields.

[fr3aklike-me]

getting to know someone on text when they're not an expressive texter is so--

[sunspira]

mentioning "genshin impact" to my therapist has been the most humiliating moment of my young life

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Had a dream about a magic school AU. Like... Literally my school but with magic and with Roxy as a protag because Blorbo. She was the only one in the school without magic so every magic lesson, she'd literally just take a nap on the desk. What else is she gonna do?

But also I dreamed how she was compensating for not having magic. She was mixing chemicals into explosives to win fights and like... Yeah it's kinda hard to argue against the dog with Potion of Kaboom™️

However, because it was a dream, my brain combined the Glams with the cast of Ni No Kuni 2 and got very confused when I woke up because the Kuni 2 cast actually fit a magic environment but FNaF guys do not lmao

There was also a bit where Roxy not having magic means naturally, she doesn't rely on it to solve problems. So while everyone was given the task of making a candle go out without blowing on it, she just. Stared in absolute bafflement as everyone around her immediately dove to figuring out spells that extinguish flames. Instead of just. Water. From the tap. Right next to them.

She decided to freak them out a bit for fun and when the teacher asks for volunteers to come forward to show what they've come up with, she immediately puts her paw up and gets called on. She wets her paw under the tap before anyone has their attention on her, walks up to the candle at the front desk, turns so everyone can see, says all professional "Today, I've learned..." pauses and then... just pinches the flame out. Literally just pinches the wick between the paw pads on her fingers and it goes out immediately. "That you guys are idiots." And walks back to her seat in silence with a smirk.

Naturally, a bunch of kids are yelling that she can't just do that what the fuck?! But she did just do that. It took her half a second to do what's taken all of them a good forty minutes to figure out at least. Teacher asks how she knew that would work and she just "you can't have a flame without oxygen. Obviously." and you get a chorus of "WHAT" and "WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT?!" She's so damn smug about it lmao these people make showing off too easy sometimes.

Like sure, she physically can't pass a mandatory magic exam unless she's able to figure out ways around it, but she can at least fuck around in lessons lmao. She tried skipping them but they started getting on her family with all the typical mandatory attendance shit so she has to go now :/ she just sleeps in them or fucks with people for fun since everyone likes to flaunt their magic on her every day anyway. Eat shit assholes she knows how to put fire out with minimal effort!

I think there was also a bit about her trying to convince teachers that a non-magic sports club would be a good idea?? And failing miserably because they just don't see the value in a magic school with non-magic sports. Thinking now, she could probably make her own club after school but probably wouldn't get that much traction with it... Resenting her family and teachers and every power that be forever because she could be a top student and could be doing amazing in school if she was just in a non-magic focused one. But she's stuck here and it sucks.

I don't know where I'd go with the story but eh it's neat I like it! Definitely different to my normal stuff!

[hua-fei-hua]

that one academic paper wherein someone discusses anti culture in fandom n stuff is on my dash again, n i read most of the discourse in the replies, and i am once again very tired of the fact that fandom as a subculture is generally considered to not be worth academic interest.

it's kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy when it comes to legitimacy too, since the last of academic precedence makes it difficult to find other papers to cite, but as soon as you, a person deep within that subculture yourself, try to use personal experiences to support your ideas, suddenly what you're writing isn't academically rigorous enough and shouldn't be counted.

[theangrypomeranian]

despising something that used to bring you such great joy feels like mourning

[nagweon]

i've decided that in modern verse, byan & si-u share a room in the group home they both live in. they definitely have some issues but, because si-u doesn't snitch when byan comes home late, drinks, smokes, etc., it's still the most agreeable byan has ever been with a roommate.

the main reason si-u doesn't snitch is that he's afraid of what byan will do if he does. however, they do also share some of the snacks they steal with him, which is pretty decent encouragement to keep his mouth shut.

[two-bats]

friends wanna go bowling but mom is saying no for racist reasons. how the fuck do I tell her that her worries stem from 1. her Even More racist parents drilling shit into her head over Thirty Years Ago & 2. working in a shitty hole-in-the-wall diner means you're likely to deal with shitty shady people Regardless Of The Area.

we're a group of adults. we (mostly) know how to conduct ourselves. the place is woman-owned and apparently lgbtq+ friendly. they have live performances nearly every night. two of my friends have been there before and vouch for it. I'm almost positive the local bowling alleys we've been to in the past have been Sketchier Than This Place.

[wishful-sinful-9]

Love the idea that Logan (with his healing factor and adamantium) thinks humans with no mutation are like… extremely fragile. Maybe even thinks they are sickly. When he’s not in a cage match he’s like, very lightly gripping ppls hands in a handshake. Gets very concerned if a human is left out in the elements for too long haha

I agree and I'm going to run with this concept a little bit here lmao

NSFW content

I can imagine he's also never ever considered going out with one because he assumes they'd think he was some sort of animalistic freak.

so when he's at a bar, and this pretty non-mutant girl makes eye contact with him, he thinks oh shit.

he knows he's in trouble when you approach him, flashing him a coy smile and attempting some cliché line that tells him he's not just in trouble, he's in deep shit, because it's obvious you're not very experienced in this department. you flirt, and he half-heartedly tells you, “you don't want to get involved with me, kid.”

“I'm not a kid, and why do you think that, Logan?”

he meets your sparkling eyes, “because I'm a bad man.”

“How bad?”

“very, very bad.”

when you giggle at him he knows it's over.

-

despite your enthusiasm, Logan wants to take it as slow as he can so as to give you as many opportunities to back out as possible. but when you're on your fourth date, having invited him round to watch a movie, and you're giving him this dangerously playful smile every two seconds...

he has you under him in the couch, crying as he grinds his cock into you, his dog tags dangling over your face.

you realise that he's trying to hold back - he's aware of his strength and nature and is afraid he'll hurt you. but your pawing at his biceps moaning for more.

then you do something that makes him stutter in his pace: you yank him down by his tags and give him a searing kiss, biting on his lower lip as you pull away. a little shocked, he blinks down at you as you whimper, “you're not going to break me, I can take it, Lo.”

he hesitates. then he lowers his lips to your ear, “promise you'll tell me to stop if I go too far.”

“I promise, baby.”

And suddenly, he's ramming into you at this toe-curling pace and grunting like an animal. you cum quickly, crying out and coating his cock with your release. but he shows no signs of stopping: tears of overstimulation stream down your cheeks as he reaches down between you, to the creamy mess of your cunt, and spreads the cum drooling out of you up to your clit, where he rubs tight circles. the sounds of him pounding into you and making a bigger mess of your fluids are beyond obscene, it would make you blush hard if you weren't already flushed from the pleasure.

you let him manhandle you into a variation of positions and pull another two orgasms from you until he groans, gripping the armrest above your head, the sudden sound of metal slicing the air making your eyes widen as his claws unsheath while he spills ropes of cum into you.

he pants, drawing them back in and looking down at you.

he's still fully seated inside when he grunts, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise they would-”

“it's okay,” you cut in, “it was hot.”

he blinks at your beaming face.

oh shit indeed.

[cheeseceli]

When you don't use their card

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!Reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, reaction

Request: Wondering if you could do stray kids giving you their card when you go out shopping, but you don’t use it and they see you haven’t and what they do 💗🖤

Warnings: not proofread; nothing more if I'm not mistaken

A/n: this layout is so pretty, admire it with me for a second pls

Bang Chan

Y'know when he goes 🤨? That's him right now. Genuinely doesn't understand why you wouldn't use it. Like, the card was right there... Next to you... And you chose to not use it? If you explain that you just didn't want to use his money because you didn't feel comfortable, he'll explain to you that he doesn't mind in the slightes if you spent it. Actually, he'd be kind of honoured if you did. When he convinces you, he is smiling all adorable and content fr

Lee Know

When he didn't receive any notification from the bank he thought you had actually lost his card lmao. The minute this thought pops in his head he's calling you asking about the whereabouts of his card. When you tell him that you just didn't want to spend his money, he'll manage to convince you to use his card through the phone. He has a proud grin when he receives the first notification from the bank.

Changbin

He'd be kinda sad ngl. When he offered you his card and you took it he was feeling so proud of himself 😭 like "oh I'm such a good boyfriend :D". So when you don't use it he pouts for a second or two. Spend his money and he'll get happy again real quick!!

Hyunjin

Got a little :( tbh. But he doesn't address about it nor have a really dramatic reaction at first. Some days later he will spoil you with a lot of gifts, things he thinks you could've bought with his card. Half of it is just to make you happy and half of it because he wants to make you feel valued through his acts.

Han

Oh he's betrayed. How could take his card like you were going to use it but then you don't?? Stabbing him would've hurt less (he'd be so dramatic lol). Would try to go shopping with you next time just so he can make sure he'll be the one paying

Felix

When he didn't receive any notifications of the bank he thought that you just didn't buy anything. Perhaps nothing satisfied you so you didn't even buy it. But when you come back home with your shopping bags he's so ??? Like "how did you buy those things🤨". Audibly gasps when you tell him you used your own money. Betrayed pt2.

Seungmin

Gives you a glare that makes you freeze when he finds out. Next time you go shopping he offers you his card again, making sure he's glaring at you again like there's a threat in his eyes - "you better use this card this time." When you actually do he switches up completely and gives you the sweetest smile ever lol. It would be kinda cute ngl

I.N

I think that at first he wouldn't have noticed that you didn't buy your things with his money. But then you go shopping again and his bills stay the same... I think he'd catch up at the second or third time. Accuses you of letting him be delusional all this time believing he was the one paying for you😔 jokes aside he'd let you know that it's okay if you don't feel comfortable spending his money, but it's his pleasure to spoil like this and that if you don't mind him paying, you shouldn't hesitate on actually using his card

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! | masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Thank you for the help bestie @zzzzzwicked 🫰🏻

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way.

Epilogue

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: implied fuck boy!Tangerine, bitchy!Tangerine in the beginning, reader is named Peach, unprotected sex, passionate sex, not much foreplay (they're desperate lmao), swearing, insecurities, praise kink, degradation, emotional, Tangerine is all over the place and bad with his feelings!

~ i'm so sorry i feel like this took forever <3 enjoy! @j23r23 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not," you smile, your nails drumming on the desk as you pick at the petals of the roses in the jar near your computer. "Ah ha, he loves me. Knew you were so full of shit," you hum happily. 

"Piss off," Tangerine loudly grunts in your ear and you tilt your head, scrunching your nose. You've told him not to yell like that—you've warned him that the earpiece is sensitive and you'll lose your hearing if he continues like this—but he never listens.

Being the Twins handler for almost four years now you've learned how to deal with their quirks.

Lemon, as ruthless as he is, is too trusting. He's also loyal to a fault and he'd die for Tangerine in seconds; something you've had to account for in your missions so it doesn't happen. 

Tangerine on the other hand? Recklessness under the guise of control. He'd burn the entire world down for Lemon without hesitation, his temper as bright as the flames of a wildfire.

Unexplainably however, you were drawn to him the most.

While he pushes your buttons like no one else, you also tend to push him in ways that leave him wanting—no needing—more.

"Tan," you warn again, "don't talk so loudly, they'll hear you!"

"Stop your yapping in my ear then, luv," Tangerine snaps, his comment snarky and you hear a loud humph as it sounds like someone crashes into something.

Tangerine sounds out of breath and you use your mouse to click on the map on your computer. You zoom in and ask, "Where's Lem? You aren't supposed to meet any security for a while—"

"He's busy, darlin'. And your little shortcut turned out to be not so short after all," Tangerine says and you hear a loud grunt. It's obvious he's in the middle of a fight.

Your blood runs cold as you chew on your lip. Your hands quickly dance over the keyboard as you try and find another way for them—an easier way—

"Hey, Peach, will ya stop breathing so damn loudly, it's distracting me," Tangerine's voice interrupts your worry and you hold your breath when you hear a loud thwap and then a grunt—immediately accompanied by cursing and more hoarse shouts. 

"Tangerine!" his name spills from your lips as you hear louder blows. "Tan?" you whisper when the line disconnects and a low buzz is heard in your ear. You fumble to discard the earpiece onto the desk in front of you and then you focus on finding Lemon. 

If anyone can help Tangerine, it's Lemon.

With a frown, you activate the tracker you'd promised not to slip into Lemon's jacket, and a little red light blinks on your computer screen. He's not far from where Tangerine is. You lean over and connect to the microphone on your computer.

"Lemon?!" 

You hear a crack and then the shuffling of clothes against the microphone in the tracker. "Peach?" Lemon grunts, "Ya cheeky lil' bird, I told ya not to track me," he lets out a breathy laugh, and another smack is heard, "Fuck me, these fuckers just don't die easily!" 

"Lem? Where's Tan?" you ask, seeing that the tracker Tangerine wears voluntarily on his suit hasn't moved in a while. "Is he okay? I think the earpiece broke."

Something must have happened to his tracker too if it's malfunctioning.

"Yeah, which is why I say I should wear it—but he's bossy and he's your favorite," Lemon says. 

"I don't have favorites!" you insist, your cheeks burning.

"Sure, whatever," Lemon chuckles and then adds, "Ah, speaking of the devil—I can see 'im now. Damn, he's beat up ain't he. Bullocks. Y'know your little plan was shit, Peach, security swarmed us almost immediately!"  

You pinch your eyes and guilt settles in your stomach. "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"

You hear Tangerine's voice distantly as he grumbles, "Fuckin' arsehole broke my earpiece when he punched me—I lost contact with Peach," he complains and you hear shuffling. Your stomach fills with unwanted butterflies at the sound of his voice and how your codename rolls off his tongue. 

"She can hear ya," Lemon says, his smirk evident in his tone, "Say hello, Peach."

"She tracked ya?" 

"Yeah, and bugged me too apparently."

 "What the fuck, my tracker doesn't do that," Tangerine says and you hear an infliction in his voice. 

"Yeah, cauz you always have the earpiece."

"Because she likes me better,"

"That's what I said!!" 

"Oi, you wankers, I can still hear you," you interrupt, "Will you just come back to the van now? The mission's a bust," you finish. While they continue to bicker for a moment, Lemon finally shuts down the tracker—by breaking it you assume—idiot—and it isn't until the van door slams open that you hear and see them again. 

"Oi, now you're takin' the piss," Tangerine exclaims, glaring at his brother as he runs a hand through his mussed hair. He enters the van and you stand. Your eyes scan over his appearance; his suit is torn and bloodied and he has a gaping cut on his forehead. His ear is also bleeding from when you assume the broken earpiece had shattered. 

"Christ," you whisper and walk over to him. Lemon smirks as he walks by the both of you and collapses onto the second chair near your desk. He's less beat up than Tangerine—who'd taken on more men you assume—but you remind yourself to check on him later anyway.

Tangerine senses you come up to him and he tenses when you hold his cheeks in your hands and check his wounds. "Tan, this looks bad," you say. 

"Peach, I'm fine," he grumbles and turns his head away. He sounds grumpier than usual.

"Look, I'm sorry—I'm sorry I messed up, I—"

Suddenly, Tangerine explodes. His hand comes up around his ears as he scrunches up his nose. "Will ya just stop talkin' for one fuckin' second?!" he yells and even Lemon, who had been a silent bystander to the conversation, looks up from where he's bandaging his hand. 

Your eyes widen and you blink at Tangerine. "W-what?"

He presses his index on his temple and narrows his eyes at you. "I have a fuckin' headache 'cause of you and you talkin' my fuckin' ear off all the damn time! And now I can barely hear because it's ringing so fuckin' hard!" he points to the blood inside his ear. 

You flinch at his tone and try to control the tears threatening to spill as he harshly berates you. 

"Right," is all you say, "sorry," your voice sounds small and you push by him and out to the front of the van to start the engine. 

* * * 

When you arrive outside their house—well, your house too since you've been living with them for the past three months—you don't talk to Tangerine. You don't even look at him.

Instead, without a word, you walk up to your room, tears still brimming, and slam the door behind you. 

Your stomach hurts and your nails dig into your palms as you run a shower. You desperately want to wash away any memory of what happened tonight. 

It isn't uncommon for you and Tangerine to fight—but he's never shouted like that and never in response to your worry.

Once you finish with your shower and walk out of the bathroom, just a towel wrapped around your body, you jump when you see Tangerine standing in the middle of your room.

He'd clearly freshened up too but, unlike yours, his hair is freshly dried. You aren't surprised—you know he hates sleeping with it when it's wet. 

He's wearing a casual pair of beige slacks and a white T-shirt. The fabric strains against the muscles in his arms as he crosses them across his chest and you look up, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

Tangerine's ear has been bandaged and his cuts and bruises look kindly tended to. Lemon, you assume, he's always been soft on his brother even when he's acting like a jerk. 

Tangerine is staring at you intensely, his blue eyes shining a shade darker than usual. 

"Shit, stop being creepy," you grumble, holding your towel tightly around yourself. "Have you come to say you're sorry for acting like a prick or just stare a hole into my head?"

Tangerine's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. He stalks closer to you, pink lips parted and his hands find your hair near your nape. He pulls you in, seemingly unbothered by the squeal you make or how you're unable to move your hands to push him away. 

Not that you'd want to push him away anyway.

"The fuck you think you're doing?" you hiss, staring at him, "have you gone mad?"

Tangerine just continues to stare into your soul. "You're so damn annoying," he mutters.  

"I'll scream and Lemon will come and beat the shit out of you," you threaten, challenging him. You know Lemon would never do such a thing and you'd be a fool to scream. 

"But, fuck me, I like you so damn much," he finishes his sentence, and then his lips find yours. His hand tightens in your hair as he kisses you. There's no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation or remorse, just pure passion as he wraps his arms around you and holds your back as he pulls your chest to his. 

You clutch the towel, making sure it feels secure, and kiss him back. You make a small sound behind his lips but you can't deny the heat in the kiss or how badly your stomach tightens just right. The steam coming from your bathroom is taunting as it surrounds you; sticky and warm. 

"Tan," you mumble as his hand comes around your jaw and he turns your head to kiss your neck. 

"Shut up," he growls, "you talk too damn much." He squeezes his eyes shut and the words fall easily from his lips as they press to your skin.

"God, you don't understand how hard it is for me; hearing your sweet voice in my ear while I'm trying not to get fuckin' stabbed or shot to death! You don't know what you do to me, darlin'. You have no fuckin' clue. It's fuckin' torture," he says as his hand tightens in your hair and you whimper.

"Tan, m-my towel," you tell him, struggling to hold it up as his body presses against yours.

This makes Tangerine snap out of whatever trance he's in for a moment and he looks down at you. His eyes have softened just a little and his tone is sultry when he asks, "Let it fall. I don't care. Do you?" His lips quirk up. "I've dreamt of you naked a thousand times, luv."

Your eyes round at the intensity of his words. You want to tell him to fuck off—that you've never thought of him like this. Never imagined his lips on yours or the way he'd feel inside you. But then you'd be a liar, and you aren't a liar. 

Instead, you drop the towel, your eyes still intensely locked onto his. The cold air sends a shiver up your spine and Tangerine's hands find the skin on your back instead of the towel. His eyes haven't left yours and he looks surprised that you'd done it. He hasn't looked down and his cheeks have turned a dusty pink. 

"What?" you move your hands up to his cheeks and hold them, "you said you'd dreamt of this. Well?" With as much confidence as you can muster, tilt his head to your naked body. You can feel your hands tremble against his cheeks, all kinds of insecurities and uncertainties bubbling inside you and just as you're going to pull away from sheer embarrassment, Tangerine speaks; 

"Fuckin' hell, you look so much better than in my imagination," his hands slide up the curves of your hips and breasts. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how passionate he'd been in the beginning.

You watch as his eyes roam around your body and he runs a hand over his jaw, staring at you with pure admiration. "You belong in a fuckin' museum," he whispers behind his hand. 

"Alright, lover boy," you roll your eyes and shift to move away but his hands find your hips and he hoists you up into his arms. You gasp, your arms finding his shoulders and your legs cling to his waist as your wet hair sprinkles water over his face. It's a weird position to be in considering you're naked.

"Tangerine!" you cry as he carries you over to your bed and you squeal when he drops you and hovers over you. 

"Let me worship you, darlin'," he whispers as his knee slides in between your legs and he kisses your lips again. He disconnects them and looks at you seriously, "Please," he pleads and your eyes widen.

Tangerine never says please.

You find yourself nodding, too lost in the haze of it all to hear the small voice in your head screaming how stupid this is.

He'll throw you away after. He doesn't care. He'll hurt you. He'll break your heart! 

You kiss him again, his lips moving against yours rhythmically. You're so lost in pleasure that when he sits up on his heels to strip his shirt, you whine and grasp at his arms. "Shhh, I'm here, dove," he chuckles, enjoying the power he has over you. When he leans over you to kiss you again, this time your hands find his abs and you can't help but explore them. 

"You countin' them, luv?" he chuckles after a moment and his lips find your nipples as he squeezes one of your breasts in his hands. You make an embarrassed sound that quickly turns into a moan when he positions your hips just right so the fabric of his slacks hits your clit. 

"I know, I know," Tangerine teases as he senses how needy you're becoming. "Shit, you're just a little slut, aren't ya, luv? Knew you'd wear those dresses to tempt me—didn't ya?"

You nod. You had. You didn't think it worked—he always played it so cool.

"You should know I would wank one out after seeing you—your thighs so visible and," he pauses and uses his hands to spread you open until he sees what he wants, "and that pretty pussy. So fuckin' pretty—

—you let me have a peek sometimes didn't you, naughty girl? Knew you did it on purpose," Tangerine says. He sounds satisfied with himself that he'd found you out and his grin widens when you nod. 

"Just for you," you whisper, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Tan," you whine, you're already so wet for him. 

"What do you want, hm? Tell me," he smirks and dips his head down to kiss your neck as his hands wander around your skin. He sits back up and removes his slacks and boxers. Your eyes downturn on his cock and you bite your lip. God, is he really this beautiful everywhere? How fucking unfair. 

Tangerine's hand comes up to your chin, "Where do you want me?" 

You look into his eyes, unsure how to ask him for what you want. Tangerine smiles, his thumb touching your lip. He's gentle, his eyes softer now, "Peach," he leans in and kisses just behind your ear. You shiver. "It's okay. Tell me where you want me," he smiles against your skin. 

"Inside me," you say, your voice small

Tangerine hums and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Where inside you, luv? I want to hear you say it for me."

You feel your cheeks warm and you stare up at him. "In my pussy," you say and Tangerine's eyes light up and he smirks.

"My pleasure," he says and shifts his hips until you feel his cock press against your pussy. He feels you tense as your hands tighten around his shoulder.

"Hey, it's just me," he says, pushing in slower now. He looks concerned as one of his hands finds your hair and pushes the strands away from your eyes.

Yeah, that's the issue, you want to tell him but you just nod, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Look at me," he says as he pushes inside you fully. You gasp, arching into him and your breathing becomes harsh. He's so thick and long. Tangerine doesn't move and you let out a whine, your eyelids fluttering. "I said, look at me. I won't move until you look at me, darlin'," he whispers sternly. 

When you finally look at him he smiles, "Do you trust me? I'm not gonna hurt you—promise." 

You nod, biting your lip. Of course, you trust him. "I trust you," you answer breathlessly. 

"Good girl," Tangerine praises and kisses your forehead. He starts to move his hips, pulling in and out of you with torturous strokes. He feels so good.

As he fucks you, he leans his forehead on yours, occasionally whispering praises into your ear as he tells you how pretty you look with him buried inside you. 

"So fuckin' pretty with my cock inside your pussy, hmm," he grunts, continuing the pounding of his hips. "You close, luv? Already?" He teases you with a smirk and kisses your lips. You let out small moans, skin warm and sticky as you nod. 

"Good," he smiles and uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding pressure as he fucks into you. "So good for me. All for me, hmm?" 

"Y-yes," you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Open your eyes, Peach," he demands and you do so instantly. "I want to look into your eyes when you come apart around me."

With that, the tension breaks inside you. Your body feels weak from the pleasure and your chest rises and falls rapidly once your high finishes. You let yourself relax into the mattress for a moment, ignoring the sudden stream of thoughts—good and bad—that race into your mind. Tangerine's lips touch your forehead again and then he pulls out, finishing on your stomach with a grunt. 

You blink, feeling the bed dip and then his warmth disappears. You panic a little but you're too weak to move. If he wants to leave, let him, you convince yourself as you stare at the ceiling. However, when you feel something cold and wet across your stomach, you flinch and scramble to sit up. 

Your eyes are wide and Tangerine pauses, removing the washcloth from your skin. He frowns a little, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly. You stare at him. He's still shirtless but he's pulled up his trousers.

"You aren't leaving?" you ask, looking around the room and you suddenly feel very bare. 

Tangerine's frown deepens but he doesn't speak for a moment as he washes away his cum from your skin and, after discarding the washcloth, he reaches behind him to hand you his shirt. You accept it without thinking and put it on, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continue to stare at him. 

He shifts, sitting beside you with one leg off the bed. He still hasn't answered and you start to feel an impending pit in your stomach. 

"Why would I leave?" he asks calmly, his voice doesn't have a hint of concern in its tone. 

You fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt, looking down. Your hair, now half-dried, is a mess from the pillows and you push it down and around your ears in an effort to compose yourself in front of him. "Well, I- I just assumed that you would—" 

Tangerine tilts his head. "You think I would fuck and ditch, did ya? Ya think so low of me, Peach?" It feels like he sounds almost amused.

You shake your head but your nerves don't stop. "I mean, what do you expect me to think, Tangerine?" you look into his eyes and continue, "You come in here, all pissed at me—you yelled at me earlier and made me feel all shitty about myself—and then out of nowhere you kiss me and then we—"

"Fuck." Tangerine finishes bluntly. 

You narrow your eyes at him. "Yeah, that," you let out a breath, "So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to think? What do you want from me now? Because I can't be one of your fuck toys, Tan. I refuse to be that girl. I- I care about you—" you feel your emotions get caught in your throat and you feel your eyes sting. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with your hands, refusing to cry in front of him. 

Tangerine hasn't said a word. He's looking at you but you can't read his expression. You hate it. You shut your eyes, ready to call it quits, and tell him to leave, but then you feel the bed dip again and you feel his hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes snap open.

"Don't cry," he whispers, his thumb sliding under your eyes and catching your tears, "Please, don't cry because of a stupid bastard like me," he cracks a smile, hoping you'll smile too but when you don't and he sighs, "Okay, I was a dick, a real fuckin' dick, and you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry." 

You nod, still listening to him, "You really were a dick," you whisper. 

Tangerine chuckles and nods too. "Yeah. I was," he pauses and moves his thumb across your cheeks as if admiring you some more, "Do ya really believe I'd fuck ya for this to be a one-time thing, luv? That I'd just throw ya away after?"

Your cheeks feel warm. "I- I don't know," 

"You do know. You think I would do that to ya," Tangerine says, his voice low. 

"I mean—that's what you do don't you? I've known you for years, Tan. All those girls—"

Tangerine suddenly laughs and his hands drop from your face. "Peach, you aren't those girls," he says, suddenly serious, "I wasn't just making it up when I said how hard it is for me to listen to you in my ear all the time. Not because you're annoying—which sometimes you are but that's beside the point—but because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years. You're all I goddamn think about. Do you understand how hard that is for me?"

You just frown, shaking your head a little. "No. This doesn't make sense. Why now—why not yesterday? Or months ago? Or years ago?"

 Tangerine runs a hand in his hair and lets out a breath. "Because I didn't want to but I snapped, I snapped, okay? I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I yelled at you and I felt so bad after I didn't know what to do with myself anymore—

—you're always there for Lem and me, and I realized, after that fuckin' earpiece broke, that I hated not having your pretty voice in my ear anymore. It felt like I'd lost you—do you have any idea how scared that made me feel, even when I knew it was irrational and that you were completely safe?" His words come out jumbled and strained. "I fuckin' hated it, I hated feeling like that so I snapped," he finishes. 

You stare at him, his words hitting you hard. You've never seen him like this and it scares you, but it also turns you on some more. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? "And I'm sorry. I am. I would never throw you away. I don't want to throw you away after this—especially after fucking you—that's the last thing I would want! I– I-" 

You stare at him some more, your eyes wide, "You what—?"

Tangerine pauses, "I love you," he says, articulating every word so you hear him clearly. 

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"As in love love?"

"Fuckin' hell Peach, ya want me to scream it at ya or somethin'? I'm in love with ya. I love ya more than anythin' I fuckin' have. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."

All your anger, doubt, and shame instantly vanished into thin air. He loves you. All this time he'd loved and he was just shit at expressing his emotions? You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as happiness overwhelms you. 

"Are ya laughing at me?" Tangerine's voice cuts in the air and you focus on him. He looks surprised and hurt. 

Your smile falters and you shake your head. There is so much you want to tell him that you're at a loss for words. He looks so pretty like this, sitting in front of you, and your hands find his cheek instead of using words.

Your fingers skim the bandage that's still wrapped around his ear and you want to ask him if it still hurts. You want to ask him so many things. He's staring at you, chest heaving, and you don't think as you kiss him. 

It's softer than the previous passionate kiss you'd shared. Only, Tangerine reacts with as much eagerness as earlier. His hands find your back and he presses you against him, your lips sliding against yours. It's intense and lovely all in the same. 

"I love you too," you say quietly between kisses. 

"Say it louder," Tangerine suddenly hums, his eyes shut in pleasure. You think he needs you to talk louder because one of his ears is bandaged and hurt.

So, you do as he asks and it earns you another kiss, however when Tangerine mutters, "I wanna hear ya say it again," you know he heard you fine. His voice is so love sick you just grin and wrap your arms around him, your hands bunching in his curls.

"I love you, Tangerine," you say breathlessly, "I love you."

"You have no idea how happy ya just made ma, luv," he responds instantly, running his hand over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "God, I'd die for ya," he mutters and you frown, slapping his arm a little. 

"Don't talk about you dying, you git," you reprimand, and Tangerine smirks. 

He kisses your neck and with a teasing tone he reassures you, "Ya have nothin' to worry about, luv. I'd much rather live for you. You have all of my heart, darlin'. It's all yours," he guides your hand to press your palm against his chest and you feel how quickly his heart is beating.

"This beats for you."

You smile and kiss his lips once more as you bring his other hand to your chest too. "And I'm yours," you whisper. "Only yours."

And until then, you'd never seen Tangerine's grin widen as widely as it did when you said those words. 

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 5k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, bickering, mentions of injuries, hints at past violence/abuse, societal inequality, arguments, medical equipment, toji is a little less of an asshole in this lmao !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: and here's part three !! i didn't expect it to be this long but here we are lmao. pls make sure to read the previous parts before this one to understand what's going on !! anyways i hope you enjoy :33

prev. | series masterlist.

toji has only been with you for two days, and you can already confidently say that stubbornness is a staple for him.

the first morning, he had stayed in his room until you had gotten up, only ambling outside when he heard the sound of you moving around in the kitchen. it was only then that it dawned upon you that you hadn't given him anything to eat after his shower the previous night, and he watched you practically trip over yourself trying to apologize.

when you asked why he didn't just ask for food, he only shrugged his shoulders with an adamant scowl, and that's when you knew you'd have to be the one to suggest things for him. because if you don't say it, toji will not ask for it.

the first day had passed by rather unceremoniously. after you fed him a heavy breakfast, which he had tore into with no hesitation, he just lumbered back into the room and fell asleep again. you didn't really know what to do—perhaps he was just exhausted from all the injuries and spending time outdoors.

so you didn't bother him. he spent the rest of the day repeating this cycle, coming out for food and then going back in. only later at night, you had finally bothered him, telling him that you'd replace the bandages you tied the previous night after he showered.

so that's what you did, and he nodded at you in a silent goodnight before heading back in. you must've saw him for maybe two hours in the whole day.

but today your approach is different.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't concerned about his injuries, because you know there is only so much you can do with your first aid kit at home. besides toji is as silent as he is stubborn—you have no clue what other injuries he's hiding from you. and that's what you're trying to reason out with him now.

it's not going well.

"toji please," you beg, trying to push yourself into his line of sight. "i promise they'll help you."

"no. no way," he hisses back, baring his teeth. "they'll just send me back to that hellhole."

"no they won't! they'd want to help you get better!" you're feeling more and more desperate as his stubbornness rises. you're not nearly smart enough to know how to treat even a quarter of his wounds. besides, toji had been on the streets for at least over a month—isn't it smart to want a doctor to check it out?

"maybe they'd wanna help," he grunts, crossing his arms. there's a hint of panic coursing through his veins, but he masks it well with rapidly rising irritation. "but they will send me back. don't you get it? i'm a wild animal. they aren't gonna send me out to go roam the streets. they'll send me back to the ring because they know i'll be kept under control there."

your shoulders slump, watching as he takes a seat on your couch—he keeps himself pressed to the very corner of it, and that just makes you feel more miserable. you take a seat on the other side, keeping your distance.

"okay, no big hospitals," you acquiesce. "but i definitely don't know how to fix those kinds of injuries."

toji half-heartedly shrugs, a wry smirk tugging at his scarred lips. "who cares? i'm tough, they'll heal."

you grimace. "definitely not. they'll probably get infected."

toji holds up his bandaged arm with a canine grin. "what d'ya mean? you did a pretty good job with this."

you pout at that, oddly embarrassed, but you remain steadfast in your argument. "all i did was disinfect it and wrap it up. but that doesn't mean that's all it needs. what if you need stitches or something?"

toji sighs heavily, fingers loosely curling around his wounded arm. he won't deny that you've been spectacularly caring for him over the past two days. and it's not like he really wants to upset you or anything.

but he has gone through too much to risk even a chance at being thrown back underground.

"i'll live," he sighs. he doesn't know much about being polite, but he does know that he doesn't enjoy the idea of being mean to you. for some reason he thinks that would just make him feel shitty. he's not sure why though—he's never been interested in what humans think anyway.

your eyes narrow, aggrieved. "if i find someplace that won't turn you in, then will you come?"

your relentless pursuit makes toji want to roll his eyes. he's not sure why you don't just take no for an answer. but he wants you to drop the conversation, so he just replies with a huffed, "sure."

there's no place you could take him that wasn't going to rat him out anyway. if you wanted to give him medical care, they would always ask for his details. and when they find out that he's not yours, and that he's come from off the streets, they will no doubt send out an alert.

and then it's only a matter of time before he's being thrown in the back of a van, drugs pumping through his veins.

he'd much rather stay in your cozy little space for as long as you'll let him, drunk off the comfort of good food and a roof over his head.

but toji did not realize that he had severely underestimated your sense of determination.

and that's how he finds himself sitting in an examination room, with you nervously tapping your foot against the floor. the muscles in his face hurt from how long he's been glaring at the wall, too angry to look at you. he knows you probably mean well, but he's almost sure that he'll never see you again after this appointment.

he's prepared to be dragged out of the building by a group of guards holding heavy tranquilizer guns—like so many of his kind before him.

"you're still mad." you say it like a statement, unamused, and toji huffs in return.

"you're underestimating how strong i am." he gives you a sidelong glance, and you bristle, crossing your arms and giving him a defiant stare.

"i think you're overestimating how strong you are." you shake your head, the defiance melting into earnest. "seriously though. i don't know much about treating wounds and i really don't want it to get worse."

he throws you an indifferent glance. "what's the point if they just send me back down there? at that point, little scrapes won't fucking matter."

you purse your lips. "i'm telling you, no one will snitch here."

"how are you so sure?" toji hisses back, ears pointing upward. you don't flinch, opening your mouth to answer.

"well—"

a knock interrupts you, and you both look to the door. toji's hackles rise almost immediatley, a low growl rumbling in his throat—something is off.

he can smell it.

the doctor walks in, blonde hair neatly pushed back and large frame covered in a white coat. his smile is friendly and mature, demeanor calm, and yet all toji can focus on is that this doctor is not human.

the short and rounded brown ears sitting atop his head is a clear indication.

toji almost hops off the bed. he has half a mind to take your arm and drag you out of there because why on earth is there a predator hybrid here at the doctor's office?

but before he can make a move, you're smiling wide at the blonde, voice coming out sweet and casual. "hi kento."

toji blanches, watching this "kento" guy exchange pleasantries with you like it's the most natural thing in the world.

do you just make it your business to go out and become friendly with dangerous predator hybrids? because toji cannot understand how a little human like you knows a fucking bear hybrid so well.

"is this him?" the doctor asks, finally looking at toji perched on the examination bed. you nod mutely, eyes raking over his figure.

the blonde steps forward, reassurance rolling off of him in waves because he can probably smell toji's apprehension. you do your best to bridge the gap.

"um toji, this is kento nanami." you motion to the blonde, who is watching toji like he's a specimen under a microscope—it makes toji's skin prickle. "kento, this is toji…um…"

he realizes that you're missing information and he spits out his last name quickly. "fushiguro."

"pleasure to meet you," nanami nods courteously. "though i wish it was under better circumstances."

"you're a hybrid." toji blurts it out before he can think twice. you throw him a semi-disapproving glance, but he doesn't pay it any mind, gaze too focused on the doctor's clearly animalistic traits. he recieves a placating smile in return.

"i am," kento nods, looking down at the chart in his hands. "and it seems like you are too. wolf right?"

"yeah," toji nods absentmindedly, trying to brush past all of this. he's more curious about the bear so casually standing in front of him. a hybrid even being allowed into a position as highly respected as a doctor is already an amazing feat—that hybrid being a predator hybrid was even more shocking.

"like i said on the phone, he's got some cuts and scrapes on his stomach and arm. i didn't know how serious they were…" your voice trails off, and the blonde nods indulgently.

"it's good you brought him in. they might be infected or need further care."

he turns to toji, whose ears remain alert and upright, and picks up his stethoscope. when he approaches, toji bares his teeth, snarling.

he can see you grimace from his peripheral. "toji—"

"it's okay," nanami holds up a palm, before pinning toji with an unwavering stare. "you're worried about confidentiality right?"

"there's no way a fucking doctor can get around this," toji spits in return. his palms are sweating. all he wants to do is drag you out of there and go hide in your home, because there is no other place that is safe. "i don't trust you."

"you don't have to trust me. but…" the doctor subtly nods his head in your direction. "do you trust her?"

toji's eyes flicker over to yours, watching the tense worry swirl within them, and he grumbles incoherently. his stomach flips in on itself. nanami takes his reluctance as a go ahead, pressing the metal of the diaphragm against toji's chest.

the wolf remains silent, though he is still irritated.

"relax," nanami sighs. "i won't tell anyone. trust me, i know how hard it is to make it out of there."

toji watches with rapt attention as kento lifts his stethoscope off, and his green eyes zero in on the branded numbers burned just under the doctor's jaw—0703.

toji's skin tingles, just where his own numbers are burned. 1231.

bile rises in his throat, but he pushes it down.

"you got out," toji mumbles, not able to keep the surprise out of his tone. nanami nods, a soft smile on his face as he writes down toji's heartrate on his chart.

"about seven years ago." he nudges his glasses further up his nose. "i made a run for it and then laid low for a few months. after some time, they called off the search."

"huh," toji grunts, disbelieving. he's not quite sure how this guy has managed it, but clearly he's done something right to be standing in front of him.

"of course, i was lucky," kento laments, motioning for toji to hold out his wounded arm—he does so wordlessly. "i was not an extremely popular or sought out fighter, so they didn't put that much effort into trying to find me."

toji believes that. bears tend to be on the gentler side of the predator groups, and while he's sure nanami could easily handle himself in a fight, it is always the more aggressive hybrids that are the most popular.

he would know after all.

"after that, it was just about finding another place to build up my life again." toji barely registers that the doctor has begun numbing his arm, too focused on his anecdote. from the corner of his eye, he can see that you're listening in with rapt attention. "i decided i'd make use of my freedom and pursue my dream career."

you and toji spend the next half an hour listening to nanami talk about his experiences. all the while, the doctor skillfully stitches toji's wounds up, never once faltering in his movements. he talks about the escape plan, the relentless pursuit of soldiers, of remaining in hiding until freedom was finally found. toji feels an odd sense of camaraderie, knowing that he has gone through quite a similar process in the last few months.

nanami explains that laying low was the hardest part, always on edge while stepping into the light because you can never be sure who's hiding in the shadows.

toji will never say this out loud, but thank god he found you.

"since then i've made it my job to help others like me," kento finally finishes securing the bandages around toji's abdomen, before looking up with a half smile.

the wolf mutely stares back. he recognizes that his body has relaxed in the doctor's presence, and his gaze flickers up to meet yours. there's a look of satisfaction sitting in your eyes, probably relieved to see that his wounds have actually been taken care of.

when you notice him looking, you give him a soft smile—he expertly looks away.

"trust me. i won't tell anyone about you." nanami stands up straight, fixing his glasses, before giving you a warm smile. "besides, she's an old friend."

the doctor nods at you, and toji suddenly feels a strange streak of irritability, especially because you beam in return—so grateful and sweet. a stone sits heavy in the wolf's stomach.

"i really appreciate this, kento." you look at the blonde earnestly. "it took a lot of convincing to get him to come get checked out."

"it's good you did." nanami pins toji with a knowing stare. "conditions are rough back there. usually hybrids have more injuries than they know."

"really?" you look between the two of them meekly, and toji has half a mind to tell nanami to stop talking—worry is not a good expression on you.

"they don't usually treat their hybrids when they get injured in fights. so yes, a lot of them tend to have past injuries that don't quite heal." you nervously assess toji's body with your eyes, and the wolf can hear the soft chuckle nanami lets out. "don't worry. he's fine."

your shoulders relax, and toji watches you with rapt attention.

a few minutes later, nanami leads you both to the receptionist, who toji notices, is a dark haired mouse hybrid—ijichi kiyotaka is printed across his nametag. the doctor quietly explains something, and the mouse nods, before typing away into the computer. toji realizes that they are probably falsifying records, and he relaxes immediately. while you settle things at the counter, nanami addresses toji one last time.

"you'll need to come back in a week so i can see the wounds again. until then, just take care of it like i explained and you should heal nicely."

toji nods, ears twitching awkwardly. "right…"

"if anything else happens, don't hesitate to come in." the doctor adjusts his glasses with a friendly smile. "you're always welcome. be careful out there."

toji swallows. he is already unused to such blatant kindness, but now you've managed to surround him with it. maybe your stupidly sweet personality attracts similarly sweet people.

in that sense, maybe he shouldn't be allowed to stay around you, too dark and gloomy for someone so bright.

nanami takes the wolf's silence with a soft laugh, before he raises his hand to wave at you. you grin back, before heading for the door—toji immediately follows you out. the two of you walk in relative silence, quiet but not uncomfortable.

his body feels good now, probably because of the numbing agent and secure bandages, but regardless, he feels good. he has not felt this comfortable in a long time, but it's not completely unwelcome. as weird as it sounds, he thinks that he wouldn't mind being the silently hulking animal wandering the city at your side.

there is one thing he's itching to ask though.

"how do you know him?" toji asks casually, still staring straight ahead. he can feel your gaze land on him, but he does not reciprocate it.

"kento?" he bristles at the name, but nods. "oh well. a few years ago my friend had to leave for a two week long business trip. she has a puppy hybrid at home, and of course her hybrid knows how to take care of herself, but my friend told me to go visit her and just check if she was okay every few days."

there's a strange look of sympathy on your face as you speak, and toji reels at how easy it is for him to pick up.

"when i went over one day, i found her just passed out on the ground. i had no clue what to do. hybrids might look like us humans but their health and anatomy is a little different, and i didn't know a single thing about puppy hybrids. so i went online and looked up specific doctors and hospitals that were good for hybrids because i was too nervous to just take her to a regular hospital. that's how i found kento."

your lips quirk upward, half rueful and half fond. "i figured a doctor who was an actual hybrid would treat her better than a human doctor would."

toji listens quietly. he does not know many humans who would put this much consideration into hybrids, mostly because hybrids are kept as pets, not considered as equals. he cannot understand why you thought so deeply about a hybrid that wasn't even yours.

"anyways since then i've bothered kento with a lot of things." you chuckle to yourself. "like last year there was a stray cat in my alleyway with a broken paw, and i brought him to kento even though i could've just taken him to a vet or a shelter."

"why's that?" toji awaits your asnwer, ears twitching at the sound of your amused voice.

"kento's always been really sweet and gentle to his patients. i guess i just trust him." you turn to peer up at toji with a smile. "that's why i knew he wouldn't even think about ratting you out."

toji grunts in return, not wanting to admit that you're probably right. any other hospital or doctor would have to report that there was a wolf hybrid out there that was unaccounted for. since you are not his owner, they'd immediately throw him back where he came from—after all, predators like him are too dangerous to be left alone.

"if anything, you can visit kento for whatever. he'd keep your secret."

"you willing to bet on it?" toji asks you gruffly, and you smirk at him with a strange spark of challenge in your eyes.

"bet my life."

he grins—another feral display of animalistic behavior.

"that's a lot to bet," he comments, flashing his canines at you, and you nod back, pleased.

"i'm pretty confident in myself."

"hm." toji lips remain in their comfortably amused position. he briefly recognizes that his feet are automatically taking him back to your place, and he internally questions just how many times he has found his way back to you before.

"we have another stop to make." toji glances at you as you speak, raising a heavy brow.

"where's that?"

"clothing shopping."

he blinks, frowning. "why the fuck would we do that?"

"well since you're staying for at least a couple weeks until your wounds heal, you probably need clothes," you say matter-of-factly. "the pair of clothes i gave you are the only things i have. you need more."

he briefly wants to ask whose clothes those are, but he shuts his mouth, knowing it's none of his damn business. he can still smell them, the smell of some other man—his lip curls distastefully.

"i don't gotta stay with you for that," he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. he can feel his claws scrape against the fabric. "i can just go back to your precious doctor myself when i need to."

"and who's gonna pay for the visit?" you ask dryly. toji bristles, heat prickling at the back of his neck. you sigh heavily.

"look, i'm telling you i don't mind." your voice is earnest, and he can feel your unrelenting stare on the side of his face. "i would feel really uneasy if you left and i didn't know what happened to you."

"why do you care so much anyway?" toji doesn't mean to sound so accusatory. he's now realized that you are just one of those stupidly rare good people, but even then he wonders why you don't just kick him to the curb and move on with your life.

but instead you frown at him, semi offended, and then roll your eyes.

"well…" you shrug nonchalantly. "we're friends. so i care."

friends.

toji almost scoffs in disbelief.

unsurprisingly, you are utterly ridiculous. he knows that you both have shared conversation for many weeks while he waited for food in your alleyway. and he realizes that he has stupidly memorized your schedule, so much so that he found himself waiting in the rain when you didn't get home on time. and sure, you had so tenderly and idiotically invited him into your space and treated his dirtied body with the utmost care.

but friends?

you really needed better survival instincts. and to stop being so trusting. it's stupid, and dangerous, and probably not good for you in the long run.

(but the word ignites a pleasant flame deep in toji's belly—unwavering and strong. he finds himself unable to extinguish it.)

an hour later, toji finds himself awkwardly rummaging through racks and shelves of clothing. the bright lights and intense air conditioning makes his hair stand on end, body feeling oddly exposed. but then his jade eyes scan the store and find your figure, curiously peering at items without a care in the world, and he relaxes a bit.

after a while of picking out a few dark and albeit plain pieces of clothing, he finds that shopping is somewhat enjoyable. the different textured fabrics are soft under his claws, and his ears twitch pleasantly at the sounds of music playing low through the speakers.

occasionally he'll look up from the shelves and see you in the distance—a few times you look back, and give him a sweet smile and a small wave that has his throat feeling strangely dry.

(it would be easy to devour something so openly waiting there.)

he immediately looks away.

toji briefly wonders what kind of clothes you tend to prefer, mind wandering. he bites back a huff of amusement when he thinks about the fluffy pajamas you were wearing when you came outside holding that stupid umbrella.

so damn silly.

"do they seriously just let animals roam around unsupervised?"

his moment of peace is shattered by a grating voice, shrill with age and obnoxiousness. toji turns to look over his shoulder, expression sour. though he towers over her, the old lady standing about five feet away from him looks anything but scared.

"you talkin' to me?" he raises a brow, hair standing on end.

"yes you," she sniffs in his direction, eyeing him from head to toe like he's nothing more than dirt on the bottom of her ugly boots. "animals aren't allowed indoors."

toji bristles, sharp eyes narrowing. despite being used to these comments, they still make his skin flare with heat. he briefly considers reacting how he normally does when he faces this kind of attitude—baring his teeth and spitting out growls and insults until the person is scared shitless.

but then he realizes that it's not like he can just snap at her and run away. his actions will so easily be traced back to you and your pristine smiles. he finds the idea of putting you in trouble to be nauseating.

so he bites his tongue, ears tense and flicking irritably—he's making decisions on your behalf now, too.

"i don't know how on earth they let you in here." she glares at him snootily, physically unable to shut up. "letting animals wander around without any—"

"actually he's mine."

toji turns to look at you as you take your place at his side, your voice clear and steady. warm fingers curl around his bicep comfortably, but there is ice in your expression that he has never seen before. you glare at the lady, who suddenly looks bashful.

"oh? that's so impressive. you managed to tame a beast this dangerous?"

he suppresses an eye roll, ready to walk you away from the ordeal, but your expression gets colder, anger radiating off of you in waves—toji does not know why it makes him so pleased.

"actually i didn't tame him at all," you hiss back, spitting the word like it's venom. "and if you make him mad i won't stop him from attacking you."

her face pales, but indignation comes off stronger. "excuse me? you don't know how to control your own pet?!"

"he's not my pet. he's his own person," you snap irritably, gaze cold—though toji can feel your heated aggression rising. "didn't you ever learn basic respect? for all your preaching, even hybrids know that better than you do."

she gapes at you, appalled, but before she can get another word in, you're tightening your grip on toji's arm and turning him away. "fuck off, bitch."

toji's ears twitch at the sounds of her angry sputtering in the distance, but his gaze remains zeroed in on you. your brows are pinched deep, and there's a frustrated scowl sitting on your lips as you drag him over to another section. "here, let's look at some of these clothes."

toji recognizes you are trying to change the subject, but he does not deny how your anger on his behalf feels so intoxicatingly addicting. he cannot help but push further.

"thought i would attack her, did ya?" he grins cheekily, canines glinting, and you huff. suddenly, you look rather embarrassed, peering up at him bitterly.

"i was just trying to get her to shut up. if you attacked anyone we'd be in big trouble."

"didn't realize you had that in you," toji ponders. for some reason, he cannot stop analyzing your microexpressions, finding some sick joy in looking at you. "not bad for a cushy little human."

you roll your eyes—toji's stomach flips in tandem. he can feel his tail lazily moving back and forth.

"wow, a compliment from the big bad wolf," you throw him a scathing smile, but he can tell you're joking. "what an honor."

"pretty sure you're scarier than i am." toji watches you rustle through the clothes on the shelves, a wry smile now comfortably resting on his face. "think you took a few years off her life."

"i hope she trips," you mutter, and toji barks out a laugh, clear and unfiltered. your lips twitch upward at the sound.

"hurry up and pick stuff so we can home," you whine with another huff, shoving at his arm. "i'm starving here."

the word home rolls over toji's body—it's warm and velvety and comfortable in a way that scares him.

he spends the next fifteen minutes rustling through the racks. you amble away to peer at other items while he does so, trying to give him his privacy. toji both appreciates it and resents it—something about you being farther away from him makes his body tense.

after a while he calls you back, shoving a modest pile of clothing into your hands. "here, i'm done."

he's hoping you just nod and take him to the counter, but yet again, he's underestimated you. you look through each item, peering at the price tags critically, before finally sighing.

"are you trying to pick cheap stuff on purpose?" you look at him with a raised brow and he groans—caught.

"i don't wanna put you out."

"ugh toji," you say his name with so much stressed exasperation he has to fight back a grin. "don't worry about that. i barely spend money to begin with. i promise you i can afford decent clothes."

he glances to the side, stubborn. he still does not particularly enjoy the idea of being indebted to you—not that he would ever say that out loud.

"if you don't pick honestly, i'm gonna find that lady and get her to annoy you again."

he blinks, looking at you and your haughtily raised brows and crossed arms.

"oh fuck please don't," toji groans, rolling his eyes. "she was—"

"a bitch?" you finish, shaking your head with a smile. "yeah she was. so please pick things out properly and don't make me go find her."

"fine," he relents, reaching out to pick up the first semi-expensive looking thing he can find. he holds it up to his body and throws you a mocking grin. "happy now?"

and yet when he looks at you, you're giving him the most genuine smile, satisfaction glimmering in your eyes. "yeah, really happy."

his mouth goes dry, and toji spends the remainder of the trip saying yes to everything you pull off the shelves for him.

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