#oh and later when hes mentioning that he got his information about claw from one of the agents that tried to kidnap him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dycefic · 3 years ago

Text

Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it. They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

#welcome to Evil Mart #good is not just good #evil is not just evil #people are complicated #and so is retail #tw graphic #tw gore #tw violence #tw murder #it's a supervillain story #supervillain shit happens #you are now warned

7K notes · View notes

uvobreakmylegs · 3 years ago

Text

Prey

got a request for a monster!Uvo as well as a request for an Uvo fic where he chases the reader. hope it’s cool that I combined the two of them

@ramwrites and I are in agreement that werewolf is the best type of monster for Uvogin

werewolf!Uvogin

Warnings: death, blood, gore, body horror, little bit of smut, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of cannibalism, attempted suicide, implied kidnapping, reader does not have a good time

Thin rays of sun that were able to slip past the branches of the trees hit Uvo's back as he went about his work, placing another upright log on the now considerably worn down tree stump and bringing his axe down upon it, slicing the wood in two and tossing the pieces into the pile to his right before he grabbed another unchopped piece from the pile to the left. Based off of the sun's position in the sky, it was only a bit after midday. Uvogin had been going at this for a while now, his sweat staining the white tank he wore.

Though the sweating wasn't because the work was in any way debilitating. Any other day of the month Uvogin would've been able to chop the same amount and not even break a sweat.

No, today was different because of what was happening tonight: a full moon.

Even though the night was still a long ways off, Uvo could already feel the very beginnings of his transformation shuddering through him. Faint, but still noticable. Unfortunately, with the ever present fact that nightfall wouldn't come for hours yet, there was little he could to other than to keep himself busy and distract himself lest the anticipation kill him. So he continued to chopping the logs, even though the amount he had cut already was bordering on excessive.

In the midst of his distraction, his ears perked up when he heard the faint rumblings of a car engine. His senses of smell and hearing were always pretty good even when it wasn't close to a full moon, but those senses were ten times as sharp now, and he could clearly hear as the car came in closer and closer.

Whoever they were, they wouldn't be the first people to have approached him today. Already he'd been asked two different times for directions to the nearby campgrounds, the first time by an elderly couple who were likely well into retirement, and the second by a group of individuals who had also gotten lost. The woman from that group who went up to him told him more information than he'd needed to know, informing him of how theirs was a company sanctioned team-building retreat. She had a piece of gum in her mouth and smacked it loudly as she talked, and because of his sensitive hearing, the sound of it became distressing to the point that Uvo had to keep himself from clawing his ears off.

Everyone in that group deserved to die because of that woman alone.

Uvogin didn't stop what he was doing even when he heard the car drive past and then suddenly brake, just continuing as he was while he heard the sounds of a car door opening and someone stepping out. Words were being spoken; what was being said exactly he couldn't say, but based off of previous experience it was easy enough to guess.

The car door slammed shut and the engine rumbled again as the car began to drive further down the dirt road. It'd be back in a little bit – over that way was a dead end. But Uvogin quickly switched his focus to the footsteps he heard walking through the unmarked pathway and headed towards him.

“Excuse me?”

He heard your voice call out to him, and Uvo finally turned to face you. Upon making eye contact with him, you smiled and held up a map as you called out again “sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help out with some directions? We're looking for the Visca lake campgrounds, but I think we've been going around in circles.”

You didn't come any closer when you said that, though it seemed to be more out of a desire to not intrude on his space as opposed to being nervous about the axe he was holding. There was a hopeful look in your eye, though you also seemed ready to apologize for bugging him if he instead told you to fuck off.

Already he knew he liked you much better than the bitch from earlier.

“Sure,” he replied.

Uvo set the axe down and walked towards you, his hand outstretched so you could hand him your map. You smiled and handed him the map without any hesitation, coming up beside him as he unfolded it and scanned the paper so he could give you an idea of what direction you needed to go. The height difference between the two of you meant that he needed to lean down a bit as he pointed out to you the appropriate road that would get you to your destination.

“The road to the campgrounds is here,” he told you.

Despite the way he had tried to accommodate the height difference, you still needed to stand on your toes to see where he was pointing. Your arm came up briefly before you swiftly pulled it back. Like you'd been tempted to place your hand on his forearm to better balance yourself but stopped yourself since the two of you were complete strangers. Though Uvo wouldn't have minded too much if you had done so. Taking advantage of the way you were right next to him, he inhaled, memorizing your scent for later.

Uvo then moved his finger towards the left as he continued “we're around this area, so you'll want to drive back the way you came and take the first right you see. Then you'll want to take another right to get onto the campground road. As long as you don't fuck up turning, you should get to the lake in about ten minutes. Maybe less.”

“Ah, okay!” you responded, taking back your map as you looked over the route he'd pointed out to you. As you were desperate to make sure you got his directions right so you wouldn't need to be in the embarrassing situation of messing up his instructions and needing to go back to him for further clarification, you didn't notice the way he was looking you over or how he inhaled more of your scent.

Your hair smelled of something flowery, some kind of hair product you must have used that morning before you drove out here. Your clothing also had a rather soapy smell, though it wasn't as noticeable as the product in your hair. Beneath all of that, he was able to take in your natural scent that was free of any products or chemicals, as well as... Perfume? An odd choice for a camping trip, he thought. Then another smell hit him, one that surrounded you but you were definitely not the source of.

Oh.

It was the unmistakable scent of another man.

The perfume made more sense now. You'd said 'we' earlier as well, so chances were you'd come here with a boyfriend for a romantic weekend getaway and his smell has just gotten all over you after spending several hours cooped up in a car with him.

Not terribly displeasing. A boyfriend being in the picture might make things a bit more interesting.

“Okay, I think I've got it,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts, “sorry if I took up too much of your time.”

“No problem,” he answered, “I get a lotta people asking for directions, so I'm used to it.”

“Really? That sounds like it gets annoying. Why don't they put up signs or something?” you asked.

“They do,” Uvo said, “but they usually get taken down by vandals.”

More like self-righteous teenagers who'd found out the truth about him and couldn't stand the fact that the elders of the nearby town allowed Uvogin to do as he pleased and thought they could thwart his killing sprees by taking down the signs leading to the lake, like they could save any innocent vacationers if they weren't able to find the campgrounds. Those kids had yet to learn that if they managed to deprive Uvo of his prey, he'd be forced to go to their own town and hunt there, maybe snatch up one of them or their families. The older folk in charge of the town understood that, and they'd decided that it was better to let the occasional out of town stranger be his prey than risk him coming in and picking off whatever stragglers he could find in their community.

People vacationing in the wilderness died all the time, after all.

“Vandals?” you asked. There was the slightest bit of concern in your voice, and when your eyes went slightly wide as you looked at him, he couldn't help but muse at how cute you looked like that.

“Just dumb kids,” he explained, “there's a small town a little ways back and I reckon they don't have much to do around there.”

“Ah, I see. Do you think we'll need to worry about them bothering us?”

“Nah, they wouldn't do anything,” Uvo said, “besides, they know that I'm out here today, and they know better than to bug me.”

You laughed a bit at that, any deeper meaning to his words going over your head.

“I can't blame them. If I was one of them I'd be too scared to do anything to get on your bad side.”

Uvogin just smiled.

A voice then called at the top of the path, and you both looked to see a dark-haired man around your age standing there. He called out what Uvo assumed was your name, and you waved to him, calling out a short “coming!” before you turned back to Uvogin.

“Thank you again for your help. I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Once again, not a problem. Hope you two have a good time.”

You smiled and nodded at him, and then began to walk back over to your boyfriend. But before you had the chance to bid him goodbye, Uvogin spoke again.

“You wanna know something that's not in any visitor's guides?” he asked.

“Huh?”

He grinned at your slightly confused expression as he explained “if you go down to the southern side of the lake, there are these really beautiful cliffs in the forest. A lot of clearings that show a pretty good view of the sky, too. And it's a full moon tonight; if you want to make some memories, you should check it out when it gets dark.”

Clearly intrigued, you turned back to face him, asking “really? Why isn't that part advertised?”

“The locals want to keep parts of the lake to themselves,” he said, “but I think it's something that you might appreciate.”

“You sure you won't get in trouble for telling me?”

“Not if you don't say anything,” said Uvo, raising an eyebrow as he smirked.

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. Behind you, your boyfriend was starting to look a bit suspicious, and his lips soon formed a frown. You weren't paying him any mind at the moment.

“What's your name?” you asked.

“Uvogin.”

You held out your hand as you introduced yourself, and he humored you by giving you a handshake.

“Thank you so much for everything,” you said, “maybe we'll see you again while we're here.”

“Maybe.”

With that, you finally turned and made your way to your awaiting boyfriend, who gave Uvo one last narrowed glance before he turned his attention to you as you eagerly pulled your map back out and began to tell him the directions that had been given to you. Your boyfriend only gave one more glance towards Uvogin before focusing his full attention on you, looking over the map with you before the two of you made your way back to the car. He seemed rather boring, Uvo thought to himself. Yet before you made it back in, you stepped up and kissed your boyfriend on the cheek. Uvo saw the way your boyfriend stiffened and the blush that reached his ears as he sat down in the driver's seat to escape your random but sweet action. You laughed as you entered through the passenger's side, and Uvo kept an eye on the two of you until he saw your small, light blue car pull away and drive down the road.

When the two of you were gone, Uvo went back to chopping wood, picking the axe back up and slicing the log into two even pieces. He didn't expect that anyone else would come blundering into the forest before evening, but if they did, he wouldn't pay them much mind. If he killed every single person who came in to enjoy the lake he would quickly lose that particular food source and then need to find another area to hunt.

No, the only ones that were on the table tonight were the company group and you and your boyfriend – he wouldn't bother hunting down that elderly couple as it wouldn't be interesting in the slightest to go after them. The larger group had a good number of people in it, so there would be no need to seek out anyone else. Honestly he shouldn't even bother with the two of you, but Uvo thought of you again, thinking over every action you had taken, from the way you had approached him to how you held out your hand when you introduced yourself.

The little bit of affection you had offered to your boyfriend also came to mind but he brushed that thought away. It was unimportant, he told himself.

No, he shouldn't bother with the two of you, but he wanted to see how your naive little expression might change when you saw him next, after the moonlight had transformed him, and hear how you might scream and cry as he hunted you down.

He grinned at the thought, and when his axe came down again, it sliced the log and the stump beneath it clean through.

The true beginnings of his change had started hours ago when the sun sank past the horizon and the moon slowly rose in the night sky. Just little things, like the way his teeth began to shift in his mouth, or how the black tips of his claws were starting to show beneath his fingernails, slowly pushing up beneath the nails and trying to force themselves out so he could have an easier time tearing apart whatever unfortunate victim happened to be closest to him.

His skin was starting to shift a bit in places as well as it began to detach from the muscle beneath, and he was hit with an overwhelming urge to run outside and allow his transformation to complete so he could go wild as he always did on a full moon night.

But he waited, forcing himself to focus on the fire that was burning before him, to wait until it had gone out completely before he stepped foot out of his cabin.

It had turned into something of a ritual for him; when he had started it he could no longer remember. It was purely ceremonial, and at the heart of it he knew that it did nothing to add to his hunt, but after being alone in the woods for so long he supposed he was entitled to a bit of superstition. And at this point, it would have felt wrong to do it any other way. When the fire went out, the moon would be at the highest point in the sky, and when he left the dark cabin and bared himself to the moonlight, his werewolf form would tear through and he would track down the victims he had met earlier in the day, the ones whose scents he had remembered after he'd chosen them for his prey. Didn't matter much in what order he got them, just whatever scent he came across first.

Although maybe tonight it mattered a little bit. If he could manage it, Uvogin wanted you to be the last one to die tonight. After the group from the company retreat and your bland looking boyfriend, he'd hoped he could then have you for last. Something about that made him feel like that would be the only appropriate ending to the night.

But that all depended if he could manage to remember that after he'd transformed.

The light of the fire was growing more dim, and he was having a harder time sitting still, his entire body itching to burst through the cabin door and let the moonlight take him.

Not yet, he told himself.

But soon.

Those black claws were showing a bit more now, and at least two of his fingernails had popped off, blood coating his fingertips as his hands clenched onto the skin of his legs. That same skin shifted once more as he did so, and after a few moments he felt something trickling down his thigh, and when he glanced down he could see in the faint glimmer of firelight the hole in his skin that he'd torn open, and the dark fur beneath the human flesh that was still covered and the blood dripping down his leg.

Not yet not yet not yet

A few more agonizing minutes later that had seemed endless in his mind, and finally the fire he'd begun earlier was reduced to a smoulder, the flames dying out and the wood glowing red as the fire reached the end of its life.

Now

No sooner had he thought that Uvogin had thrown open the cabin door and ran out into the woods that surrounded him, bare as he gazed up at the full moon as he allowed himself the moment that he'd been holding off on.

There were multiple changes simultaneously and Uvogin was barely able to comprehend all of what was happening to him because of it. There was always a pain that accompanied his transformation, and while it was a pain that he was used to at this point, it was pain nonetheless.

At the sight of the moon his green eyes turned yellow and his pupils narrowed into slits, while the bones in his body began to shift and grow. It started with his spine, extending and pushing out through his skin and almost causing a ripple effect through his whole body. His bones were snapping and stretching beneath his skin, growing as his muscles were expanding and making him into even more of a giant than he already was. Claws on his hands and feet tore through the flesh that surrounded them as those parts of him extended, the skin ripping open and allowing more of the fur that was hidden underneath to show through.

When he felt the flesh around his shoulders stretch out in an attempt to accommodate the transformation he sped up the process by reaching up and tearing it away with his own fingers, the black claws easily ripping in and pulling the skin away like a latex glove. Soon the skin that had been on his arms sat around him in pieces on the grass and he began the same process with his chest and legs, tearing away his flesh in messy strips and allowing the fur that had formed on his body to be exposed, matted with blood and looking almost black in the light of the moon.

His skull went through the same process as the rest of his body, and he felt his face crack into several different pieces before the bones began to remold themselves and pushed outward, taking the shape of a wolf's muzzle while his teeth extended and shifted to fit properly in his newly formed mouth. When his ears began twisting and pushing upwards into sharp points was when he tore at the skin on his face, pulling it off as he had done with the rest and throwing it to the forest floor.

When the last of his human flesh had been removed, his transformation was complete. The man who had stepped out of that cabin was gone and replaced with a large, bipedal wolf whose yellow eyes dilated as he looked up once more to the moon. Lifting his head up, he arched his back as he let out a howl loud enough that echoed through the woods and across the surface of the lake. Those that heard it in the nearby town quietly whispered their prayers to whichever gods they worshiped while those who were visiting the lake's campsite merely marveled at the sound.

If Uvo was in a different mindset he might have thought of you in that moment, and what you might be thinking when you heard him. If you had any clue of the danger you were in.

But in this moment, there was no thought of you or even saving you for last as he had tried to so hard to ingrain into himself. There was no thought of doing this in any order or trying to end the night correctly as he had mused about earlier.

The only thing going through Uvogin's mind was the need to kill.

As luck would have it, he'd managed to kill the ones from that company first.

There had been more of them. More that were wandering around their campsite, more that were talking amongst themselves, and in general just making more noise that, combined with their scents from earlier, allowed him to find them first.

There were actually more of them in that group than he'd anticipated, and as he killed off the last woman in the group, gum falling from her mouth as he twisted her head completely around. Uvo then looked around at the carnage he'd left in his wake. It was hard to tell with the way they were all in pieces now, but the number of people group had easily been in the double digits. That would probably cause a bit of trouble, as it would be hard to try and cover this up. This would easily make the news. Annoying, as Uvo would need to make sure to lay low for a bit, and it could possibly lower the amount of potential victims in the area when the next full moon came.

But it had still been worth it.

Uvogin felt more like himself again now that the murderous urges had been sated. Able to think a bit more clearly, more rationally. And he was able to remember you and what he'd hoped for early on. He could imagine it: your scared expression as you watched him kill your boyfriend before he slaughtered you like the rest, your screams cutting short as he bit into the skin of your neck and tore out your throat.

Now that his hunger was taken care of, he left the campsite of the now-dead group. Right now all he wanted was to find you and your boyfriend.

Remembering what he had told you of the southern side of the lake, he took a gamble as he headed off in that direction, making his way through the woods at speeds much faster than a regular human would be capable of. He stopped when he felt the wind blowing again, and lifted his nose in the air, trying to see if he catch anything.

….. There

It was faint. Very faint, but he managed to catch a familiar human scent.

He turned and headed off in your direction. It was too far away to get your exact location, but it was enough that he could get at least an idea of where you were.

Continuing towards the south side of the lake, he stayed close to the shoreline until he found your little blue car from earlier parked close to the lake, a tent set up not too far off from it. Your scent became a bit more clear as he came closer, and yet when stopped to scan the area, his eyes looking for the slightest bit of movement and his ears straining to hear any bit of noise, he couldn't find you.

A bit annoying, but based off of the way the two of you had left things, you should still be in the area. It was just a matter of hunting you down.

Uvo stalked about the campsite, just in case he missed something while also puncturing two of the tires on your car and cutting off that potential escape route. Satisfied that neither of you were on the site or next to the water, he walked back into the woods, following after the little bits of that fragrance he'd latched onto.

As he walked, he thought to himself with some amusement that you'd actually taken up his suggestion. Uvogin had found that most people didn't bother, either because they were too dedicated to the plans they'd made before arriving or because they didn't trust that the landscape was as beautiful as he'd made it out to be. In fairness, it mostly all looked the same to him, but there had just been something about that particular bit of campground that made him enjoy hunting there more. So it was even more perfect that the two of you had ended up there. Most likely you were just doing what you felt like and didn't feel like adhering to any particular schedule.

His ears perked up as he heard a low voice in the distance. Not yours. Probably your boyfriend, then. Focusing himself so he could move silently, Uvogin weaved through the trees, his eyes searching for you while he listened for more noise from either of you.

When he heard your voice next, he had definitely gotten closer. Your voice had sounded odd, though. Almost breathless.

He found the two of you in a larger clearing that stood beneath one of the cliffs he had spoken of. You were laying with your back on the grass, dressed in a swimsuit with only a shirt over it. Your boyfriend was in a similar state with the moonlight falling onto his bare back, and it looked like both of you were a bit wet, some drops of water still on your skin and hair still damp. So the two of you had gone swimming before you wandered over to this area to mess around.

You said something to him before the two of you shared a kiss, and you moaned into it when he slipped his hand under your shirt to grab at your chest.

It certainly wasn't the first time Uvo had come across a pair of lovers in the woods. Such encounters usually ended with one or both betraying the other, as several times in the past one would push the other into Uvo's path in an attempt to save themselves after having a passionate make-out session only moments before.

Uvogin stepped out from the treeline and waited for one of you to notice him. You let out another moan, and to him it sounded like it was slightly exaggerated. Was your boyfriend not that good? Not too surprising, based off of Uvo's impression of him.

If Uvo had been the man on top of you, he was certain he could do much better.

….. Where did that come from?

Uvo didn't get much time to wonder about that as he heard you let out a sharp gasp, and when his eyes refocused on you, he saw that you were looking right at him. Your eyes were wide and your skin paled as you stiffened, your hands grasping at your boyfriend's arms.

“What's wrong?” your boyfriend asked when he noticed your reaction.

Keeping your eyes on Uvogin, you answered him in a small whisper “there's something over there.”

Your boyfriend turned his head to where you were looking, and he went stiff as well when he saw Uvogin's werewolf form.

It was quiet in that clearing, free of any noises from any woodland animals or even the insects, as anything that was in that immediate area sensed the danger and were desperate to keep silent. No, the only sound Uvo could hear was your breathing that became more panicked as you struggled to keep it under control and the way your boyfriend tried to shush you while he broke out into a cold sweat. You two were both under the impression to stay still and not make any sudden movements for fear of provoking him.

Then your boyfriend whispered your name.

“When I move,” he breathed out, “I want you to run back to the car and get out of here. Even if I'm not with you, you have to take the car and leave.”

As he spoke, your boyfriend slowly moved his hand over to a pack beside you that Uvo hadn't noticed at first. Still, Uvo grinned. He thought he could take him on?

You tried to protest but your boyfriend wasn't hearing it, only repeating his instructions to you and trying to make you promise that you would do as he said. You didn't want to; that was clear, but when you looked back over to Uvogin's form outside the treeline, you shuddered once more and agreed to leave with a short nod.

Uvogin waited for the boyfriend to make his move. He looked just as terrified as you were, but he was clearly trying to be brave for your sake, and his resolve seemed to steel when he got a hold of whatever he had been searching for in the pack.

“Now!”

Your boyfriend yelled as he shot up and charged at Uvo. For the first time since seeing him, Uvogin felt mildly impressed with your boyfriend; he'd been genuine about wanting to save you over himself. Not like he wouldn't still die for it as he was still incredibly weak, but there was something to be said about the willingness he had to face down a beast like Uvo for your sake.

You must be something special to make a man go that far for you.

The thing your boyfriend had pulled out turned out to be a can of bear spray as well as a medium-sized hunting knife. Uvo managed to doge the stream that had been aimed at him easily on account of how badly the hand that held it had been shaking. The boyfriend ran back a bit, unwilling to get too close to Uvogin even with the knife. He tried to aim it again, but Uvo used his claws to slice at him, slashing upwards as he aimed for his throat.

Somehow, he missed the boyfriend's throat and only managed to hit the side of his face, opening up his cheek and taking off his ear. The boyfriend cried out at that, one hand going up to his bleeding cheek while still trying to incapacitate Uvo with the bear spray. But with the way he stumbled about, it was almost too easy for Uvogin to grab him by his face and hurl him into the trunk of a nearby tree. He hit headfirst, and there was an audible cracking sound that came from the impact. Uvogin didn't even bother to watch the way his body hit the ground, experience telling him that he was definitely dead.

Uvogin was much more interested in you.

You were still in the clearing. At first you had done as your boyfriend had told you and bolted the second he yelled, running back to your campsite. But you stopped and turned back when you heard him cry out when Uvo had slashed at him. You wanted to help him but you also knew there was nothing you could do, and so you were left standing in the clearing, your whole body shaking as you struggled with the decision to stay or leave your boyfriend behind.

It was cute how loyal you were to him.

And loyalty certainly wasn't a bad quality.

When you saw your boyfriend die you froze, tears streaming down your face as you looked between the now dead man and the thing that had murdered him. You were clearly in a panic, your legs trembling as your brain struggled to figure out what to do, where to go from here. Certainly you had to be aware that you'd lost any chance of getting away like you'd been told to do, right?

Apparently not, as when Uvogin stepped forward you bolted, running back towards the camp. Yet Uvo found a sense of relief with that, that you wouldn't just sit there and let him kill you and end it so early.

For whatever reason, that last thought displeased him.

But he brushed that away as he chased after you only moments later, not bothering to be quiet with his movements and instead being as loud as possible, breaking apart any low-hanging branches in his wake as he howled into the night air once again.

You had only made it a little ways past the car when he emerged from the forest and lunged towards you. It seemed like you were trying to get away on foot given the damage to the car. Already there was a scent of blood in your wake, as the soles of your feet had already been cut up on the sharp debris of the forest floor.

You turned towards him just in time to see him raising his clawed hand over his head before he sliced it downwards. Through what must have been some bit of luck, you stumbled backwards at that moment and all he managed to do was give you a flesh wound.

You hit the surface of the gravel road hard, crying out in pain at the force of your fall as well as the cuts that were on your arm, your hand immediately grasping at your wound as you desperately tried to use your legs to get yourself off of the ground.

Then he was on top of you.

He opened his jaws wide; you saw as he did so, and attempted to crawl out from under him.

He snapped his jaws shut on your throat.

And you went stiff.

It was quiet for a few moments.

And then a small rush of air escaped from your mouth as you let out a breath you had been holding.

Almost.

He had almost killed you in that moment.

The pointed tips of his teeth were pressing lightly into your skin, not quite hard enough to make you bleed, but that would change if you shifted your neck just slightly.

Why had he stopped?

He stayed there, hunched over you, his arms caging you in while his maw was around your throat. He felt the pulse in your neck beating wildly, almost causing vibrations against his teeth. You had stopped struggling, your legs still while you continued to clutch at your wounded arm, the only noises coming from you now being your uneven breathing.

What was he doing?

His yellow eye glanced over to your face, and he found that you weren't even looking at him. You were gazing in the direction of the night sky, where the light of the moon shown down on you like a spotlight, but it didn't even seem like you were even looking at that. Your eyes were wide as you breathed hard, and Uvo had to wonder if you were currently seeing your life flash before your eyes. That perhaps your mind had accepted that this was the end of your life and was remembering as much as you could before Uvogin would sink in his teeth and sever those major arteries in your neck.

Were you satisfied with all that you had accomplished up to this point, or were you disappointed and felt that you should have done more?

Moments passed like that, his hulking form engulfing yours with no movement from either of you. He took in a deep breath, and he once again caught some of the flowery smell of your shampoo, though it had largely faded by now, and you smelled much more like the woods after the hours you had spent there. More like pine and tree leaves, and the fresh water of the lake, and....

Uvogin let out a short grunt that made you whimper and you clenched your eyes shut as you believed this to be the end. You had no clue that Uvo could smell your arousal coming from between your legs. It had come from the way you'd been fooling around with your boyfriend earlier – there was no way you could have been turned on by this.

Uvo thought again of what he had seen when he stumbled upon the two of you, and that odd thought that had interjected at one point. You had been on his mind almost all day, and he thought it was because he wanted to kill you. And now you were beneath him and the moment couldn't have been more right, and yet now that was the last thing he wanted to do.

It hit him then. The different urge he'd had about you since he had seen you earlier in the day, since he had seen the way you treated your boyfriend; the way you had kissed that man had stuck out in his mind. Hardly any different than any other couple he had seen who were too big on PDA, yet combined with the way you had first come up to him, had smiled and thanked him, and introduced yourself so willingly while also asking for his name had made all of the difference in the world.

His days in the woods were lonely. It was something Uvo was well aware of but had thought he could handle, and he had done so for several years now without issue. But now that he knew you, with your actions and your touch and even the sweet scent of your arousal that he wished more and more that he had been the cause of, another second of being alone sounded more like torture.

Still, the biggest reason he had stayed on his own for so long was that he had accepted that there would be few in this world who would be alright with spending the rest of their lives with a man-eating monster. And any that he may have wanted to keep alive despite that probably wouldn't have been worth the trouble. Keeping someone else with him would also mean he would need to put in the effort to keep them alive, and if he had them unwillingly he'd need to make sure they wouldn't be able to get away, either by restraining them or locking them up.

He watched you, watched the way your face stayed scrunched up as you waited for him to finish it. He wanted you, but were you worth the trouble?

When Uvogin pulled off of your neck and sat back up, you meekly opened your eyes in confusion and trying to anticipate what horrible thing he would do to you next. You yelped when he grabbed you by the back of your shirt as he stood, pulling you up to your feet and setting you in front of him. With one hand on your shoulder and one on your hip, he turned you so you were facing away from him, making sure you were steady on your feet.

He leaned down so his maw was right next to your ear, and in a voice that sounded more animal than human, he growled out a single word:

“Run.”

With that he pushed you forward. You stumbled a bit, your brain still processing what he had said as you barely took a few steps away from him. Then, like a lightning bolt had hit you, you finally seemed to understand as you snapped back and made a beeline for the woods. Your bare feet were loud on the cluttered forest floor, and he occasionally heard little gasps and soft whimpers of pain when you cut your foot open further on a rock or a sharp branch.

Uvo waited, wanting to give you a good head start before he began to chase after you. It would be easy to track you, especially with how much you were bleeding now, but he shuddered with barely contained excitement, eager to chase you down but knowing that he needed to give you a decent head start or else it would be over too quickly.

If you proved yourself worthy of keeping alive, then he'd take you back to his cabin.

And he really hoped you wouldn't let him down.

…. But then something felt wrong.

Uvogin's eyes narrowed as he sensed that you were still within the immediate area and not moving away from him as he had expected. The direction you had gone in was the same one the both of you had come from; the patch of woods and the clearing where he'd found you in the pathway. There wasn't anything there that you could have fallen over or gotten stuck on, so why....

A new thought occurred to him, and Uvo growled lowly to himself as he hoped he wouldn't see what he felt he might when he found you next.

You were back in that clearing, sitting next to your boyfriend's fallen body. Your body was facing the direction Uvo had arrived from, both of your hands in front of you as looked down at your now former lover. There were tears rolling down your cheeks as you sat there.

A wave of disgust hit Uvogin as he found he was correct and was thoroughly disappointed with your actions. He'd given you a chance to get away and you'd wasted it by sitting around crying. Clearly he had given you too much credit.

You heard him as he began to walk towards you, and he noted the way your hands slipped beneath your boyfriend's slightly upturned body, your head still downcast.

He stood across from you, letting out a huff that made you flinch. But still, you didn't move from that spot.

As he opened his jaws your head shot up and you lifted your hands from beneath the body.

Just as you did so, something sprayed into his nose, eyes and his open mouth. Something that stung and made him gag. Fuck it burned, and Uvogin let out a howl of pain as he clutched at his face.

The bear spray-!

Something sharp then dug into the flesh beneath his collarbone, and the pain from the bitter spray was accompanied by the sensation of a knife blade stabbing into him.

With another howl as he was now blinded, he swiped a hand in your general direction and heard you yelp as he simultaneously clawed your shoulder and forced you to the ground. With his hearing now being his greatest sense, he managed to pick up the clatter the bear spray can made as the force of his blow made you drop it, and he moved one of his feet to stomp at it, crushing it and making it useless.

Uvo roared again as he swung about wildly, trying to catch you once more, but you managed to avoid his attacks and made your way into the woods again as he heard your labored breathing and footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

He clutched at his face as he tried to make himself calm down, trying to will away the pain and regain his sense of sight and smell.

…. Not bad.

Even with the rage he had felt in the moment, he found himself relieved, almost happy that you had caught him off-guard. You had gone as far as to use your boyfriend's body as a prop, to make him think that you were too broken up about his death so he would lower his guard. Had you been a bit taller, you could have done a decent amount of damage if you'd managed to stab the knife into his throat.

The knife was still in him, he realized, and after regaining a little bit of his sight in his left eye, he easily pulled it out and threw it across the way.

Now you had no weapons, but he was also at a disadvantage as his eyes were still watering and he could no longer smell you as clearly, the harsh chemicals of the spray making him internally wince every time he breathed through his nose. If he wanted to catch you, he would need to rely almost entirely on his hearing to search for you.

The sounds you were making were quite distant now, but he grinned to himself and stayed there a while longer, letting you get further away.

The direction you were going had no civilization, there was only forest for miles, and he was happy to let you get yourself more and more lost if it meant that his hunt would continue.

By the time dawn was nearing, signaled by the sickly pale color the sky had turned to, Uvogin had managed to chase you further into the wilderness, up through the trees and near the edge of a cliff face. Throughout the night there had been times where you had slowed or stopped completely as you tried to regain your strength, taking advantage of your smaller size and slipping into places that he couldn't easily get to. You also had several brief spurts of energy where you had sped up suddenly, more determined than ever to get away from him while you threw various stones and branches back towards him, though you never tried anything else as bold as you had with your trick from earlier as you didn't allow him to get that close again.

But as you stumbled to the edge of the cliff and looked at the steep drop before you, it was clear to him that your fight was gone. He knew it even before you fell to your knees on the sharp rock. The chase had ended, and just in time, as daylight would be here soon, and when that came he would revert back to his human form.

It had been one of the most memorable hunts he'd had in years, and even though your will had been broken in the process, by now he was certain that he wanted to keep you. To have a little partner in his solitary life, someone to keep his bed warm and wait for him to return home in the evenings. The scenario was nice to think about, and he especially liked the idea of you cuddling up to him during the colder months of the year, trying to keep yourself warm with his body heat to fight the chilly air that would sneak inside. Maybe eventually he'd get you to give him sweet tokens of affection like you'd given to your boyfriend, perhaps a kiss on the cheek before he went out to hunt.

And maybe every once in a while, if you were still insistent on putting up a fight, Uvo might let you out during a full moon and make you think you had a chance to escape, just so he could hunt you down and drag you back to his little home in the woods.

The thought of it gave him chills, and he wondered how long he would need to wait before he could let you out.

You were lightly swaying in place as you looked to the ground below while Uvo was consumed in the thoughts he had about you. He assumed that you were just waiting for him to finish it – your willpower was dried up, and there was no way you would try to run around him or do anything as stupid as try to climb down the cliff face.

He had no clue where your thoughts had taken you in that moment.

Realization shot through him when he saw your shoulders sag and your body began to fall forward over the edge.

Uvo rushed forward and grabbed you by your shoulder before you fell off and he threw you back, a good distance further and far rougher than he had been intending, as you wailed weakly when you hit the ground.

If you were willing to kill yourself to escape him, he'd need to wait some time before letting you run about the woods again.

By now, you were covered in dirt and blood and whatever else had stuck to you from the forest while you had run from him. Your skin was covered in cuts that he and the forest had given you and it would likely be some time before you would be able to properly walk again based off of the state of your feet. When he approached you once more, you clenched your eyes shut again. By now you were past the point of tears and just waited for him to finish you off.

You jolted at the feeling of his fur brushing against your skin when straddled you once more, but just as before, the killing blow you were expecting never came. You opened one eye, and just as you did so, the first rays of the sun shone over the landscape beyond and hit Uvogin.

You watched in silent horror as the fur that covered him caught on fire and began to burn. He was briefly consumed by the flames before they vanished into puffs of smoke. His bones were snapping again, breaking into pieces and retracting back into their normal size while his muscles and skin rippled and shrunk back down, tightening around his fingers as the claws also retracted and vanished beneath the skin. As his wolf face broke apart and reformed, there was a look of shock in your eyes as you saw the beast on top of you become more and more human. And that shock soon turned into a realization when you found that you recognized the man who was on top of you.

His transformation back to his human form was over in a matter of seconds, and when it was over and his green eyes looked back down at you, you stuttered as you tried to find your voice.

“U-Uvogin?” you asked weakly.

He grinned, pleased that you had remembered his name.

Without another word, Uvo leaned down over you so he could begin the process of properly claiming you as his.

#reader insert #uvo x reader #Uvogin #hxh uvogin #yandere #yandere hxh #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere uvogin #monster #uvogin x reader

576 notes · View notes

diamond-coral · 3 years ago

Text

Play by the Rules

Steve x Reader, Tony x Reader, Implied Steve x Reader x Tony

Summary: Working for the powerful CEO, Tony Stark, was a nightmare. Especially when you have to deal with his new, and equally as powerful, partner; the CEO of S.H.I.E.L.D. Inc., Steve Rogers. You have a plan to leave it all behind, but Tony has his own plans for you.

This is my first writing for @ darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @ harper-emory-writes Dark Bingo challenge: crossing off the squares Blackmail and CEO AU. I’m nowhere near a bingo but I’m super excited that I’ve started !!

Warnings: 18+ only! NON-CON/DUB-CON(ORAL (M RECEIVING), INTERCOURSE, MENTION OF ANAL), BLACKMAIL, VOYEURISM, sexism in the workplace, swearing.

“We’ll review the new contract with S.H.I.E.L.D. today during the meeting. I’ll need two printed copies of it as well as a printed copy of our current one with Asgard Corp.” Tony snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Y/n, are you even listening to me?”

You look up from your notepad. “Of course, Mr. Stark. Just taking notes.”

Tony scoffs. “Wasn’t half the reason I hired you your ability to retain information without wasting time by writing things down?Since when did you start taking notes?”

Since I became willing to do anything to not have to look at you and remember that you were balls deep in me just last week.

“I’d just like everything to go smoothly for this meeting. I understand it’s a big deal for the company and for you, sir.”

Tony studies your face. “Well in the spirit of dedication, I’ll need you to stay a couple hours extra.”

You try to avoid scrunching up your features at that. Although you had been looking forward to curling up on your couch when you got home, you would never dare counter your employer, so you just nod.

“Rogers will be here in an hour,” he continues. “I’m expecting you to greet him, so I’ll have an intern go out and get you an outfit.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Stark, I believe the attire I’m currently wearing is satisfactory, is it not?”

Tony eyes your black blazer and pants paired with flats. “It’s not,” he states as he gets up from his chair across from you at your desk and fixes his tie. After pausing to consider your confused look, he elaborates. “You gotta show some more skin, sweetheart. It’s the only way a woman like you will be able to make it out here.”

Your mouth falls open as he turns and leaves you to process his offensive comment.

“Bastard,” you mumble.

You could run Stark Industries in your sleep. In fact, Tony had already appointed you head of three separate divisions as well as let you bring a few of your own original projects and ideas to life in the years you had been here. You saw your own potential and Tony had been generous enough to help you expand and experiment with it. A couple more years and you could leave Stark Industries behind to start your own company with the connections you’d already made.

Which is why you remained compliant with Tony’s every demand. No matter how much it hurt your pride (especially when a drunk hookup with him practically destroyed your pride), nothing would compare to the sweet victory of running Tony’s company into the dirt when you started your own. You did your own projections. Tony wasn’t short of enemies, and with their help and your own skill set, you’d make double the profits Tony did in half the time.

So you put up with the touches, grabs, and comments from Tony. He had such a large company to run that he barely noticed that the three divisions he absentmindedly handed to you were the most successful. You’d giggle and bat your eyelashes as long as Tony didn’t notice you practically undermining his company.

Play by the rules,

But be ferocious.

_________________________

Twenty minutes later you’re interrupted from your pile of paperwork by a soft knock.

“Come in!” you call out.

A boy with short brown hair lets himself in. You’d seen him around as Tony’s shadow.

‘What was his name again? Patrick? Pietro? Pierre?’

“Oh, Peter! How can I help you”

“Hey, Ms. L/n, Tony asked me to bring this up to you.”

Peter holds up the clear dry-cleaning bag, and it takes all your effort not to grimace at the short black pencil skirt inside. Instead, you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“You can just leave it on that chair, thank you,” you say.

As Peter leaves you get up to inspect the clothing Tony so graciously provided for you, and you notice a note attached.

leave a couple buttons undone ;) -TS

Scoffing, you throw the note in the trash as you pick up the clothes and lock your door.

You’d begrudgingly play a little eye candy knowing you’d get your revenge in a couple years.

But how much could this escalate in a couple of years?

“Stop it,” you mutter to yourself while pulling on the black blazer.

Once you're finished changing, you receive an alert that Steve Rogers had checked into the building. 15 minutes early.

You hadn’t even met the fucker and you already hated him.

________________________________

“Mr. Rogers!” you greet the blonde in a painfully cheery voice. “You’re early!”

“Well, this is an important meeting, sweetheart,” he replies, and you cringe at the pet name, handing him a clipboard and pen.

“This is just a quick confidentiality contract, Mr. Stark would like you to sign,” you inform. “Basically just saying you agree not to share any contents of the meeting or contract to any outside parties until you and Mr Stark have solidified and confirmed all aspects of your partnership.”

“Ah so Stark is already confident he’ll get a partnership with my company?” Steve muses and scribbles his signature. He looks up, handing the clipboard and pen back to you, and you motion for him to follow you down the hall.

“So what’s your role here exactly?” Steve asks, following behind you. “Are you an intern, receptionist...maybe a call-girl?”

You don’t bother turning at his teasing remark, instead answering calmly. “I run the three most successful divisions here, Mr. Rogers.”

“Impressive,” he remarks, but it sounds more of a mock from him. “And Stark still keeps you as an assistant.”

Your brows furrow at that comment. “How do you know I’m an assistant? And why would you ask what I did here if you already knew?”

“Women like you are just so fun to rile up. Stark and I had a meeting earlier in the month, and he talked of you very fondly.”

Well that didn’t sit right with you. You coordinated all of Tony’s meetings and practically created his everyday work schedule. “Mr. Stark didn’t mention meeting you already.”

“We decided to go over all possibilities of this transaction. It wasn’t much.” Steve brushes your comment off as he enters the elevator with you.

The doors close and you feel trapped. Through the short conversation you’ve had with this man, you can already tell how calculating he is. Every word, every movement, has been intricately steered by him for his benefit. And you couldn’t even begin to explain how belittled his stature made you feel; sheer power barely contained by an expensive three piece suit. The dark blue made his blue eyes more piercing in comparison. Everything about him radiated dominance. And for a woman like you who was practically clawing her way up the corporate ladder, that was a problem.

“You coming?” Steve’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He stood by the open elevator doors, arm gesturing out for you to lead. “Time is money.”

“Well then you have plenty of it, don’t rush me,” you snap.

“Feisty,” he muses, lips turning upwards.

Steve follows behind you, and you can feel his gaze burning on your ass. You’re more than grateful when you reach Tony’s door, having to refrain from frantically knocking, trying to escape the stare of the man behind you.

“Enter,” a voice calls from behind the doors.

You push open the large door and stand to the side, allowing Steve to enter the room before you.

“Mr. Stark,” Steve greets, crossing the room to give Tony a firm handshake.

“Rogers.”

The men begin to talk business and you take that as your cue to leave, turning back towards the door.

“Y/n, have a seat,” Tony calls out to you. You glance back at him and beckons you over with two fingers.

“Um, Mr. Stark, there are no other chairs,” you stammer.

“Don’t worry, doll, I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t offer a lady a place to sit,” Steve declares. You expect him to get up, but he just spreads his legs a little wider and gestures to his lap.

Eyes flitting to Tony in panic, your employer just nods and gives you look of warning as if saying ‘don’t mess this up’.

You let out a breath and hesitantly make your way to Steve.

‘How much could this escalate?’

The words from earlier rang in your head, but you brush them away and tentatively place yourself on one of his muscular thighs, angling yourself inward. You can’t hide how your face twists into a look of disdain as Steve’s arm snakes around, pulling you further up his leg so you’re back right up against his torso.

“Mr. Rogers I-” Your voice is nothing but a squeak before Tony interrupts you.

“As I was saying,” Tony interjected. “Your profits will grow exponentially if you add Stark Tech to your security services. Which is why I get 60%. I’m already doing you a favor by growing your profits.”

“I want 50/50. Stark Industries will gain consumers from S.H.I.E.L.D. We both get more buyers from the partnership, so I say it should be an even split.”

“Well we both know you’re not just getting the consumers, Rogers,” Tony spat.

That has your attention fully invested in the conversation. What could Rogers possibly get from the company that Tony would be so mad about parting from? You look down at the contract on the desk in front of you and your heart stops cold.

“Mr. Stark, why is my name on this contract?” It was there. Under ‘assets acquired’, it was the last thing, as if added as a last moment bargain.

Tony just ignores you. “Steve, you’re taking the head of Stark-Touch Smartphones, my most profitable branch, you can’t just expect things to run as efficiently when she’s gone.”

“I’m taking her twice a week, I highly doubt that’ll make much of a dent in your operations,” Steve scoffs, and you tense up. “How about this. I get her for two weeks- straight- a month, and I’ll split it 45-55.”

“Mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Your voice quivers.

“Your boss here just agreed to sell you to me, as my...assistant,” he explains, hot breath fanning your ear. His free hand that’s not on your waist moves to grip your bare thigh up your skirt. “Two weeks a month, for every month, for as long as you work for him.”

“No!” you suddenly shout, wrenching your body from his grip to stand up. “I will take the comments, I will take the stares and the touches, but I will not be whored out like this. Mr. Stark, I quit.”

Stark just tsks and rises from his chair to stand in front of you. While shorter than Steve, it still feels like he towers over you with the demeanor he holds. “That’s just it, y/n...you see, you’re not gonna be quitting to start that new company of yours.”

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head as he mentions your future plans.

“Yeah, I know, you’re not as good at hiding as you thought. At least from Peter that is. Kid’s a whiz at the computer. Had him plant a bug on your home laptop and do a little sweep of your personal account. And I gotta hand it to you, the numbers you ran? Almost perfect. Every single projection and hypothesis you had would’ve gone through. You factored in almost everything. Almost. But you forgot one thing, sweetheart.” Tony’s hand flies up to grip your jaw and uses the momentum to throw you into the wall a few feet behind you. He’s back on you in an instant, seething, as the grip on your chin is bruising. “You forgot me, bitch. You forgot what would happen if you cross Tony fucking Stark. I’m the most powerful man in America. I can ruin your life with a snap of my fingers.” Just as quickly as he was on you, Tony’s anger switches to calm, and in the blink of an eye, he’s off of you, casually smoothing his suit down. “Well more of a push of a button.”

Smirking, Tony reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone while you remain frozen in fear, glancing at Steve who just looks amused at the show in front of him. At the sound of Tony coughing to get your attention, you look back in front of you at the phone he’s now holding out. Black and white security footage is displayed on the screen, and the moment Tony presses play, you know what it is.

Your voice rings through the speaker, the moans, expletives, and begging coming out of your throat are clear as day as Tony fucks you over your desk.

“Harder, daddy!”

“Please, please, let me cum!”

Your eyes water. “Stop it,” you murmur, but the video keeps playing. “I said stop it! Please!”

Tony chuckles. “So now you understand what’s at stake here? One push of a button, one phone call to Peter, and this video will be up all over Time Square. Forget starting a company, you’ll be blackballed all over America from even being a receptionist.”

You’re defeated, your entire future crumbling before your eyes.

“What do you want from me.”

“Well I think leaving me or the company is now obviously out of the picture, so for now, I want you to give Steve here a little trial of what he just bought from me.”

“Please...please no,” you croak, but Tony just holds up his phone and raises an eyebrow.

As you start to make your way toward the other man, Tony grabs your jaw once more. “Don’t half-ass it,” he grows in your ear before shoving you to Steve.

Eyes lowered, you stand in front of Steve and shrug your blazer off. “What would you like me to do...sir?”

“Suck me off.”

You’re barely able to breathe, sinking down to your nears, as tears begin to flow freely from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry doll,” Steve murmurs under his breath.

There is no dignity left in you as you unbuckle his belt and open his fly. The soft zip is deafening to your ears, and you reach in and pull out his hardening cock.

Shit. He wasn’t even fully hard and he was big. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t send a pang down to your core.

Giving him a few shy strokes, you then place your mouth over him, hollowing your cheeks as you lightly suckle at the tip. You pull back and take a deep breath.

‘Don’t half-ass it’

You dive back in with renewed vigor, taking as much of him as you can and running your tongue across the underside of him. He’s hot and heavy in your mouth, and you find yourself pretending you were somewhere else with someone else, enjoying it. You let out a moan at his taste and Steve responds with his own groan, hand caressing your hair as you slightly speed up. His hand winds itself into your hair, and he begins thrusting his hips up into your mouth, extracting a whimper from you. Each buck of his hips turns harsher as his hand pushes down on your head to force his entire length down your throat, and at this point, you’re drooling onto his expensive slacks. He’s about to cum and you feel it; his thrusts becoming erratic and his entire body tensing, but before you can speed up and get this nightmare over with, he wrenches you off his dick and pulls you into a heated kiss, hands coming up to grope you all over.

You let out a startled squeal as both hands grasp your blouse and rip it down the middle, buttons flying everywhere, before he proceeds to do the same to the black lacy bra you're wearing.

“Ride me,” he commands.

All shame has left you at this point as you proceed to straddle him, your skirt now bunched up at your waist, and sink down on his length. The mewl that comes out of you is from how his girth is stretching you, and after what seems like eternity, you’re bottomed out and unable to move.

“Move,” he orders.

“I can’t,” you whine. “It-it’s too much.”

“Move.”

You let out another whimper as you slowly raise yourself a couple inches and sink back down, feeling every single vein on his cock brush against your walls. A few more attempts later, Steve grows impatient. A low growl is torn from his lips while he grabs your hips tight and slams you back down on his impossibly hard length.

You can barely hear the string of strangled screams and moans as he brutally thrusts into you, moving your body up and down and using you for his own pleasure. Every punishing plunge into your cunt punches the air from your lungs, and Steve’s groans are animalistic.

You glance over to the side to see Tony fisting his own dick, and the only thing that tears you away from staring at him is a particularly hard thrust from the man in the chair below you.

“Fuck, doll, your gripping me so tight,” Steve grunts.

The sound of skin slapping and the squelching of your now wet pussy is so overwhelming you don’t even register another set of hands on your waist.

“Bend her over more, Rogers. I wanna fuck her ass.”

#dark!tony stark #dark!tony x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader

341 notes · View notes

jayeray-hq · 3 years ago

Text

Twin Kittens (Part 1)

Hey everyone! This is my part for the Paws and Claws Collab that was with @katslutski The theme of the collab was hybrids (puppy/kitty/bunny etc) so if you’re interested check it out!

Unfortunately as usual I got excessively wordy, so this is going to be split into three parts. This part alone is about 20K words and we're only about a third of the way through! so it definitely had to be split up.

If you like this feel free to check out my Atsumu or my Osamu masterlists!

While there is no smut in this part there will be in the future thus this story is 18+ minors DNI please!

TW: Previous mentions of past abuse, gaslighting, verbal, death threats, hybrids have been treated like slaves before

This story is Fem Reader x Atsumu x Osamu but there will be no actual incest. While there will be a threesome at the end the boys won't ever touch one another sexually.

“Are you alright?” your neighbor Ojirou asked, a concerned look on his face as he watched you listlessly stir your drink with the straw, playing with the melting ice in the glass.

The two of you were actually good friends, having lived peacefully side by side for over five years now. You’d met on the very first day when you moved in, you’d been struggling to open the door with a large box in your arms and he’d rushed to the rescue. He and his hybrids diligent Kita, the blue merle border collie, and sly, sleek Suna the Siamese cat, had all pitched in to help you get moved in and settled. You’d been good friends with all three of them ever since.

It was his turn to host your traditional Friday night dinner, so you’d gone over to his apartment determined to enjoy yourself. However, something must’ve given away the rough day you’d had, because all three of them had been casting you concerned looks all night and trading glances when they thought you couldn’t see.

It was apparently Aran’s job to confront you about it, though both hybrids were looking at you expectantly. Well, Kita was looking at you expectantly, Suna was pretending not to pay attention, his phone in his hands, but you could see him watching out of the corner of his eye.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” you asked determined to at least give it a try.

The stern look you got from Kita and the sympathetic smile from Ojiro told you how ultimately fruitless the effort had been, so you caved in with a sigh, pushing your glass away so you could slump face down on the table burying your head in your arms. You’d tell them, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be necessarily looking them in the eye when you did.

“You know how I went to that thing with some of my girl friends today?” you asked tiredly.

There were acknowledging hums all around even from Suna who you saw from the corner of your eye was no longer pretending to look at his phone and instead watching you like some rare breed of animal in a zoo doing something particularly fascinating.

“Well it was fun, great even,” you told them with a small quirk of your lips, “Right up until we started talking about significant others. Apparently two of them are getting married soon, one has a baby on the way, and the rest are in steady loving relationships or have openly declared they aren’t interested in that kind of thing. So guess who was the only sad single there?”

“Ah,” Ojirou acknowledged a well of sympathy in his voice.

“And of course once they found out, they were like ‘oh I think my husband has a brother’ or ‘oh I have this great friend from work you’d just love,” you ranted, earning a quiet snicker from Suna, which prompted you to lift your head up so you could dig back at the cat hybrid who looked to be having far too much fun at your expense.

“They even asked me why I didn’t date my nice neighbor, the one I’m always hanging out with,” you added on ruthlessly, ignoring Ojirou’s shocked sputters, “But I told them he was in a committed relationship. They were skeptical at first, but then I told them that I was sure because someone is extremely loud, enough that I’m forced to use headphones to drown out the yowling.”

Poor Ojirou was coughing, clearly dying of embarrassment, and even Kita had the faintest red tinge to his cheeks. Unfortunately, Suna, unbothered as ever, simply smirked at you, which confirmed some of your suspicions that he’d been doing it on purpose, the brat.

Heaving another forlorn sigh you decided to give up and give poor Ojirou a break, making a mental note to make it up to him somehow. The poor guy really didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire between you and Suna.

“So, I spent the time being relentlessly hounded until it was time to leave,” you continued on, pretending not to notice Kita patting Ojirou’s back sympathetically, “I tried to explain to them that I just don’t have the time and energy it takes to go out and start dating people, that work was taking up too much of my time, but they weren’t having any of it.”

“It sounds like a rough time,” Ojirou told you, with genuine sympathy, the man too kind even after you’d embarrassed the hell out of him, “like when I go home and baa-chan asks when I’m going to settle down and get married.”

Suna let out an involuntary hiss at that, and Kita’s shoulders stiffened up a bit. Even though hybrid-human relationships were accepted and even almost expected between them and their owners these days, it didn’t mean that everyone accepted them as ‘true’ relationships. There were a good chunk of people, mostly conservatives and the older generation who believed that human/human relationships were the only valid ones.

This was no doubt because of the fact that most hybrid children, once they hit eighteen chose to go to hybrid adoption centers rather than staying with their parents. This was partly because it was one of the few good ways to get out from under your parents roof.

Hybrid rights had come a long way from when they’d first been implemented a few decades ago, back when they were considered something of a toy and a pet, not better than a slave. However, they technically still required a human ‘owner’ to do things like go to school, find a job, or even be out in public unsupervised.

There were people working to change that of course, and you’d donated heavily to the cause and actively supported it, but change was slow going, so for now it was what it was. It didn’t help that there were a good deal of people around like Ojirou’s grandma who viewed hybrids as less than human, and would probably never acknowledge his relationship or any children they had, especially if the children were hybrids too.

It was something you’d listened to him vent about more than once, happy to lend him a listening ear, especially since he’d done the same for you plenty of times over the years.

“It wasn’t quite that bad,” you admitted, giving him your own sympathetic smile, “but it was rather depressing.”

“Do ya even want a companion like that?” Kita asked her reasonably, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard ya talk about wantin’ a relationship other than rantin’ about a few failed dates here and there. If ya don’t I don’t see why it should be a problem, and not any of their business either.”

“Except I think I kind of do,” you admitted with a grimace, to the practical dog-hybrid who always gave solid, dependable advice, “I never planned to spend the rest of my life alone you know? I just always put my career first figuring relationships could come later, when I had more time, but now I’m starting to wonder if later will ever come.”

“And ya don’t want to date?” Kita asked with a slight frown, “I’m sure ya could make time if ya really wanted to, we could change our dinners around fer a while maybe?”

“No way,” you protested immediately, “Dinners with you guys are my only bastion of sanity. Plus I’m not even sure I want to go out and meet people, frankly at this point I’m not even sure I know how. It just… gets a little lonely coming home to an empty apartment sometimes you know?”

“So why don’t you get a hybrid?” Ojirou asked, his tone eminently reasonable despite the shock of what he’d said.

“A hybrid?” you repeated a little dumbfounded, “Me?!”

“Well why not?” he defended, stroking his recently grown goatee with his thumb and forefinger, “You’re wealthy enough to afford one, it would solve your companionship issue, and you wouldn’t have to date anyone, just go to a hybrid adoption center and find someone you’re compatible with.”

When he put it like that it did sound reasonable, even if it wasn’t an idea that had ever occurred to you. A lot of your friends, not just Ojirou, had hybrid companions, one of the weddings discussed earlier that day was even to a hybrid even if it wouldn’t be official until they could get proper legislature passed. You just had never really considered it an option for yourself.

“Do you think I could?” you asked with a light frown, turning the idea over in your mind, the question directed more at Kita than anyone else, both because he was always the most reasonable of the three and because as a hybrid you thought he’d probably be more qualified to answer whether you were a fit ‘owner’.

However to your surprise it wasn’t Kita, but Suna who answered first informing you in his normal lazy drawl, “You’d do well with a hybrid I think, probably something lower energy, like a cat, and we’re pretty self-sufficient as you know, so you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving it home alone like you would a pet.”

“He’s right,” Kita agreed, after a thoughtful pause, “Personally I believe ya would do well with a hybrid, ya get along with us well enough. Plus if yer worried we can help ya look after them. Suna needs a playmate anyway, he’s been getting’ up ta too much mischief lately when Aran and I ain’t here.”

Suna didn’t even bother to protest, just shrugged, completely unbothered by the accusation. Figuring you might as well take advantage of the situation you asked a few more questions, all of which were answered by your friends who all had a lot of input on what kind of hybrid you should get.

You left that night with your head stuffed full of information, after telling them you needed time to think it over. Getting a hybrid was a lifechanging thing and you didn’t want to run off half-cocked. It had gotten you an approving nod from Kita and a supportive pat on the shoulder from Ojirou. Suna had simply given you a knowing smirk, as if the smug cat hybrid already knew exactly what you were going to do as you walked out the door.

You stared up at the hybrid adoption center, not quite sure how you’d ended up here. For the last week or so, ever since Ojirou had brought it up you’d had hybrids on the brain. You’d found your eyes wandering to look at them when they passed you in the street and idly daydreaming in your down time what it might be like to have one waiting when you came home and fantasizing about what kind you might get.

Normally you were very focused and productive at work, but somehow, you’d found yourself scrolling through different sites, putting in research into what kind of facility you should visit and what you’d need to do. It had gotten bad enough that some of your coworkers had noticed your distraction, which was the final nail in the coffin.

You’d already known which center Ojirou had used to choose Kita and Suna, and so at the end of a particularly long day, quietly dreading heading home to your empty apartment you’d instead found yourself driving over to the center.

It was on the smaller side when it came to hybrid adoption centers, privately run and owned by Azumane Industries, a fashion line that created clothes that specifically catered to hybrids. Ojirou had, had nothing but good things to say, and so gathering your courage you left your car to head resolutely inside.

The lobby was rather quiet, only one other patron and two people manning the desks, both of whom looked up when you entered. You were a bit surprised to see the only two workers in sight were hybrids, one a silver cat of some type and the other clearly a German shepherd.

In hindsight it made a lot of sense to have hybrids be in charge of the adoption of other hybrids as they would likely know best how to match people up. However, you rarely saw that kind of practicality when it came to hybrids especially because you knew there was a lot of prejudice out there.

You offered the cat a hesitant smile, stepping up to the desk, the smile he gave back one that was both kind and welcoming as he introduced, “Welcome to Azumane Industries Hybrid Adoption Center. My name is Sugawara, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking to adopt,” you admitted, unsure what else to say you tacked on, “My friend recommended this place to me, so here I am.”

“Well, we’ll take good care of you,” he assured you calmly, “Usually we do this by appointment, but you’re lucky. It’s a slow day and we have an opening, so I’d be happy to start the process with you if you’re willing.”

“Great,” you told him with a quiet sigh of relief, glad that he could fit you in. Honestly you should’ve known that a place like this would require a call ahead at least. It would’ve served you right for being so impulsive if they hadn’t been able to squeeze you in, “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Sugawara offered you a sly grin, one that reminded you of Suna as he promptly pushed a large stack of paperwork in your direction and handed you a pen. You grimaced at the sight of it but set to work, quietly filling out the forms one by one and handing each of them to Sugawara after so he could log them into his computer.

The forms reminded you of a loan or job application in a lot of ways, asking after your health, your income, your living situation, if you had a criminal record, any previous experience with hybrids etc. It took you quite a while to fill them all out, and by the end of it your wrist was sore and you’d signed your name more times than you cared to remember. However, since Sugawara had been filling in as you went you didn’t have to wait long to move on to the next step.

“Congratulations,” he told you with an amused smile, watching as you massaged your wrist, “You’ve been approved to adopt from our center, which means we now get to the fun part.”

“Fun part?” you questioned a little warily, having learned from Suna that a cat hybrid smiling at you didn’t necessarily mean good things for your sanity.

“Tell me about what kind of hybrid you’d like,” he told you leaning forward, elbows braced on the desk as he watched you intently, “Do you have any preferences? I’ve read all your information as we’ve gone along so I have some ideas, but I’d like to hear from you what you think you want.”

“I’m not sure where to start,” you admitted, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“That’s alright,” he assured you, “That’s what I’m here for. Let’s start with species, that’s always good and will narrow things down a bit.”

“I know I want a cat or dog hybrid,” you told him immediately glad to have some kind of answer for him, “Rabbit and rodent hybrids have heats and ruts too often for me to handle given how busy work keeps me.”

Heats and ruts were one of the big things that separated hybrids from humans and were part of the reason it was hard for them to find and hold down jobs. There were two kinds of hybrid within each species, alphas and omegas.

Alphas were usually more aggressive, stubborn, and willful. You needed to have a more dominant personality to have an alpha hybrid otherwise they’d walk all over you. Alphas also had a period called a rut, where their hormones skyrocketed and made them want to breed with anything and everything. It was a really uncomfortable time for them, and made them even more aggressive.

Omegas were generally more passive, quiet and compliant. They tended to be favored over Alpha hybrids as companions because of their more docile nature. They had periods called heats, which were similar to an Alphas rut, the only difference being they wanted to be bred rather than to breed. It made them needy and clingy the entire time.

Both heats and ruts lasted anywhere from a couple of days to a week depending on the species of hybrid. Dogs and cats had week long heats, but they only happened two to three times a year, whereas rabbit and rodent hybrids only lasted a few days, but happened every week and a half to two weeks.

You knew it wasn’t necessarily expected for a hybrid owner to stay home when their hybrid was in heat or rut, but you also knew it was those times that hybrids tended to be more reckless. Most of the research you did advised that you should if you could, even if you weren’t the one who was going to be sexually intimate with your hybrid. There were of course hybrid heat centers, where hybrids could go to find willing partners and get their needs taken care of, but you’d heard horror stories about places like that and didn’t want to use one unless you absolutely had to.

“There are medications to manage heats and ruts,” Sugawara pointed out reasonably, a slight frown on his face.

“I know,” you agreed, “But I did some research and it looks like most hybrids don’t like to take them because they have nasty side effects, like potential infertility, mood drops, and weight gain. If there’s a rodent or rabbit hybrid that wants to voluntarily take the medication then that could be fine, but I’ve heard only a few ever want to risk it.”

Sugawara looked surprised for a moment, then slowly nodded, “It’s good you’ve looked into things, and it’s nice to see someone who’s come prepared. I’ve heard a bit of that too, so no rabbits or rodents. Do you have any preference Alpha versus Omega?”

“Not really,” you admitted with a helpless shrug, feeling a little bad for not being able to narrow down the criteria for him, “I’m pretty open so long as they can fit into my lifestyle, are a little more independent, and think they’ll get along with me.”

“Well you’ll at least have lots of options,” Sugwara assured you, with a smile that told you he wasn’t off put by the fact that you didn’t know exactly what you wanted either, “Does that mean you don’t have a preference for breed either?”

“That’s right,” you agreed with a firm nod, “I just want someone who’s going to be compatible with me, everything else is secondary.”

“Okay,” he told you cheerfully, “I’m sure we can do that! Though it might take us a little bit to narrow things down. Since you aren’t picky you might as well come with me to start looking. Daichi can you manage the desk on your own?”

“Sure,” the german shepherd hybrid agreed, from where he’d been sitting quietly, keeping watch over the two of you and typing away on his computer, since there was literally no one else in the lobby, “Just keep a radio on you so I can call you back up here if it gets busy Suga.”

Your soon to be guide agreed with a smile, plucking one of the aforementioned radios up and attaching it to his belt, before standing up from the desk. He stretched in a very feline manner, then ushered you towards a door that led toward the back of the building, tail swishing peacefully behind him.

“Each species of hybrid has its own floor,” Sugawara explained as he led you through the hall, “Bunnies are on the top floor, rodents underneath them, cats on the second floor and dogs here on the first. Each floor has four separate wings, separated into categories depending on whether the hybrid in question is male or female, alpha or omega. These wings have private rooms in them and are connected by a shared space.”

“We’ll be going into the shared space,” he explained pausing outside one of the doors, “It’s where hybrids come both to hang out, and to meet people. If a hybrid isn’t interested in being adopted by a specific human they’ll simply return to their rooms until the human leaves. This way we ensure that no one gets coerced into adoption. We also keep a close eye on things with security cameras in the shared space, for both the safety of humans and hybrids. Before we enter the room, I need you to give me verbal consent to allow yourself to be filmed.”

“That’s fine,” you told him, more than a bit impressed with how thorough and organized the whole thing was, along with the lengths they went to, to ensure everyone’s comfort.

“Alright then, let’s introduce you to the dogs,” he teased, with a confident smile.

The minute the door opened, almost every head turned in your direction, making you feel a bit awkward and unsure. Some of the hybrids were in their human forms, ears and tails the only hint of their non-human status, while others were lounging around in their secondary animal form.

The animal form of a hybrid was indistinguishable from a normal animal of the same breed. The only thing that might give it away was the high level of intelligence. Your research told you that hybrids tended to act more on their instincts when in animal form, which could be both a good thing and a bad thing.

Case in point, the minute you entered with Sugawara one enormous grey and white speckled dog came bounding over barking his head off. He was absolutely huge, and only the madly wagging tail kept you from cringing back as he charged over, his barking immediately setting off a few of the others.

You got the wind knocked out of you a bit as he collided with you, though thankfully the door was behind you, and kept you from being knocked off your feet as he placed enormous paws on your shoulders, burying his face in your hair and sniffing enthusiastically. You froze, unsure exactly what to do in this situation, and more than a bit uncomfortable.

Luckily Sugawara immediately came to your rescue, shoving the big dog off as he scolded, “Bokuto! What have I told you about jumping up on our guests!”

The big dog immediately began to whine, tail tucked between his legs, and you wanted to feel bad for him, except you were still a bit unnerved.

“Sorry about him,” Sugawara apologized with a sigh, “He’s harmless I promise, just incredibly enthusiastic about new people.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, hesitantly reaching out to Bokuto palms first to see if he might be interested, only to have him turn away. Unsure what to do you glanced at Sugawara, whose tail was swishing in clear agitation.

“Ignore him,” the silver haired cat hybrid told you, “He’s just sulking because he got scolded. In fact, better yet ignore all of them, since they can’t stop being rude and barking.”

This last bit, along with the fierce glare that accompanied it was leveled at the room in general, earning some sheepish looks from a couple of the dog hybrids who were in human form, and managing to quiet several of the barking ones who were in animal form.

“Come on,” he urged with one last flick of his tail, “I should’ve started you with the cats anyway. You seem like a cat person to me, and I assure you they’ll have much better manners. If you don’t find what you’re looking for there, we’ll come back, but let’s explore the cat option first and give them time to recall their manners.”

You allowed him to usher you out of the room and toward the elevator, trusting his judgment. It was funny that he’d said you were a cat person, as he was actually the third cat hybrid to have told you so, Suna being one and the Siamese hybrid of one of your coworkers being the other.

It took you less than a minute to get up to the next floor, and when Sugawara ushered you into the cat hybrid room you could immediately feel the difference. There was no noise for one, just a bunch of curious eyes turned in your direction, but it didn’t feel hostile at all.

Sugawara quickly introduced you to the cat hybrids, telling them you’d come to adopt and had ‘just been slobbered all over by the dog hybrids’ so if they could all ‘mind their manners’ that would be great. You were a little amused at the exasperated hybrid’s antics, and you weren’t the only one, if the quiet snickering from a hybrid with particularly messy hair was any indication. However you were also grateful to him for being so diligent as he introduced you to everyone.

Slowly, several cat hybrids meandered up to you, some in human form, some in cat form, though some also stayed in place clearly observing everything. You chatted lightly with the ones in human form, while letting the ones in cat form do as they pleased, answering their questions and asking a few of your own.

It was a much more relaxed experience, something you were infinitely grateful for after the sudden chaos of the dog hybrid room, and you had to wonder if the cat hybrids who’d pegged you as a cat person hadn’t been right after all. You were in the middle of quietly talking to a lovely female alpha hybrid named Shimizu when Sugawara’s radio blared to life. Apparently, the front had gotten rather busy and Daichi desperately needed his help.

“Will you be alright if I leave you here?” Sugawara asked you seriously, “This shouldn’t take too long, and Shimizu is more than capable of looking after you.”

“Sure,” you agreed, after a quick glance at the hybrid in question, who gave an acknowledging nod of her head, “I don’t mind.”

“Good,” he agreed with a bright grin, before rounding on the rest of the room, “And all the rest of you better behave or I’ll hear why!”

With one last warning glare around the room he turned on his heel and left, leaving you in Shimizu’s capable hands. The two of you continued to talk amiably as several cat hybrids came by in one form or another to sniff at you or listen in on the conversation from nearby. A number of them only came over for a few minutes, lingered a bit and then left, spreading back out to the room or going into the hallways that led to their private rooms, however a good chunk of them stayed nearby as well.

Chatting lightly with Shimizu and a few of the others you found you really liked the poised and graceful cat hybrid and might’ve looked into adopting her. Unfortunately, Shimizu quickly made it clear that she had some plans of her own, that included getting herself and her young and adorable munchkin kitten hybrid Yachi adopted by one of their frequent visitors.

She was however, more than happy to give her own opinion on some of the other hybrids around, most of whom seemed to respect both her and her opinion a lot. You were listening to Shimizu tell you a bit more about Yachi, who was watching from a safe distance, clearly anxious, but also unwilling to leave, when you felt something paw at your leg.

A quick glance down revealed a long haired fluffy looking cat, in shades of silver and white who was staring up at you expectantly. None of the other cat hybrids had actually dared to touch you, a few coming close, but none making actual moves to greet you.

A little intrigued you crouched down so you’d be closer to his eye level, and extended your hands for him the same way you did for Suna when he was in his cat form, giving him a choice about whether he wanted to be touched or not. The cat hybrid eyed your hands thoughtfully for a minute, before sauntering within reach, nudging his head against your palm.

Taking your cue you allowed yourself to pet him, gently rubbing at his silky ears and enjoying the feeling of his thick, plush coat. His back arched pressing closer into your hands, eyelids lowering in contentment as you carefully massaged your fingers through his fur in a way you knew Suna enjoyed.

A rumbling purr escaped his throat and you couldn’t help the pleased smile that crossed your lips at the sound as he pressed his way closer to your torso, entering the circle of your arms and keeping himself there. You were caught up in petting him for a moment and didn’t immediately notice, but after a few seconds you realized the room had gotten very quiet.

It had been quiet before, as cat hybrids didn’t make a lot of noise in general, but now it was almost deathly still outside the small purring sounds from the cat under your hands. You immediately froze and glanced up at Kiyoko who was watching the two of you with wide eyes.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, more than a bit concerned.

“You pet him,” Shimizu murmured, more to herself than to you.

“Should I not have?” you asked worriedly, moving to pull your hands away, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize. I pet my neighbor’s cat hybrid all the time when he’s in the mood for it.”

The cat hybrid under your hands made a noise of protest as you pulled your hands away, giving Shimizu what you assumed to be a rather annoyed look based on her baffled and slightly contrite expression.

“No,” she assured you quickly, “We like to be pet, physical affection is important to hybrids. It’s just that particular one doesn’t usually allow anyone to touch him.”

“Do you mind?” you asked the hybrid in question, holding out your hands again.

He gave an agreeing mew and pressed his head to your palm, which you assumed meant you could resume petting. The fur under your fingers was clearly well taken care of, soft and plush and you truly wouldn’t have minded continuing to pet him until he got sick of you.

However, you were interrupted by a furious yowling sound that immediately made you jump, your head snapping up to search for the source of the noise. It turned out to be another long haired fluffy cat, this one in shades of gold and white who came charging out of the halls and ran straight at you.

You didn’t even have a second to react as the cat that had been in your arms darted around to hide behind you. Not that it stopped the oncoming golden one who didn’t even bother to go around and instead went right over you, claws digging into your arm as he attempted to get at the silver one.

You let out a yelp of surprise and pain, as he launched himself off your shoulder at the silver cat behind you who immediately darted out of reach, running around you in dizzying circles with the golden one fast on his heels both of them yowling, hissing and spitting, clearly having some kind of argument.

It only took a moment for you to regain your bearings and decide you needed to put an end to whatever this was, since poor Shimizu didn’t look at all ready to step in, an utterly appalled look on her face. Luckily you had quick reflexes and managed to snag both cats around the middle and stand up quickly, the abrupt shift immediately silencing both, no doubt shocked by your interruption.

“I think that’s quite enough of that,” you scolded firmly, as you hefted the two carefully, keeping them firmly separated. They were a bit heavier than they looked but certainly not too much for you to keep aloft.

“You,” you scolded the golden one, gently shaking him, who had turned to stare up at you with wide copper colored eyes, “I don’t know what he did to you or why, but I’m sure whatever it was could’ve been resolved without the ruckus. I also don’t appreciate being climbed on or used as a spring board.

“And you,” you gently shook the silver one in turn, who looked equally surprised to be addressed, “I’m not sure if he deserved whatever you did or not, but you shouldn’t have been causing a ruckus either, and I don’t appreciate you using me as a shield.”

“From what I understand, in order to be here you have to be considered adults,” you continued firmly, “So I suggest you act like it, and figure this out between yourselves without dragging innocent bystanders into your mess!”

With that you loosened your grip, fully expecting both of them to jump to the floor. However, both continued to simply hang limply in your grasp, watching you with curious eyes that you realized rather abruptly were almost completely identical.

“Siblings huh?” you asked no one in particular, nodding to yourself, “I suppose that explains a lot.”

“Are you alright?” Shimizu asked you worriedly, “You’re bleeding.”

A quick glance at your arm showed you were indeed bleeding, small pinpricks of blood welling up from where the golden cat had dug his claws into you. It stung a bit, but you didn’t think it was too bad.

“I’m alright,” you assured her, kneeling down and releasing both cats, since they seemed disinclined to continue fighting, and you wanted your hands free, “Though I’d appreciate some disinfectant and some band aids if you’ve got them.”

“Of course,” Shimizu assured you with a quick nod, “Just let me get them and I’ll be right back.”

The elegant hybrid moved with enviable grace and speed as she exited the room, leaving you alone. A quick look around the room showed that almost every eye was now on you, and you heaved a sigh, not exactly pleased to be the center of attention, especially since none of them did anything but stare, none of them bothering to approach, just look.

You glanced down in surprise when you felt something touching your leg, only to find the golden cat headbutting your shin, rubbing his face against your calf affectionately as he twined his way through your legs.

“Does that mean you’re sorry,” you asked, crouching back down and offering your hands to the pretty, fluffy cat.

He immediately rubbed his face against your hands too, which you took as permission to continue your petting, rubbing your hand affectionately over his head and earning a happy purr from the feline who arched happily into your hands.

You were distracted from your petting by a paw, which came to rest on one of your wrists, the silver cat watching with obvious envy in his pretty copper colored eyes. Luckily for both of you, you had two hands, and you reached out to pet him too after assuring it was okay. The golden cat clearly wasn’t too happy about his brother’s presence, but didn’t kick up a fuss, instead pressing himself closer and becoming more insistent as he purred ever louder. The silver cat didn’t seemed to pay him any attention though, simply soaking up your attention and affection.

“Here,” Shimizu offered as she came back, first aid kit in hand, “Do you need any help getting bandaged up?”

You were about to accept her offer, as attempting to bandage your dominant arm was always a pain, when you felt something strange under your hand. You turned your attention back to the cat hybrids you’d been petting just in time to see the silver one shift, form becoming large, limbs extending, body lengthening and bulking up until he stood in front of you in human form.

You blinked, utterly startled as you stared up at him, taking in his appearance. He was incredibly handsome in his human form, with the same silvery grey hair as his fur in cat form in an undercut and bright bronze eyes that peered out at you from under heavy lids. He had a strong, slightly square jaw and thick eyebrows, with blunt cheekbones and cupids bow lips.

He was also surprisingly big, at least six feet tall, and maybe a bit more than that, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that clung to his chest, showing off the definition of his muscles. To top it all off he had two cat ears poking out from his silvery hair and a fluffy tail that was slowly waving back and forth as he looked at you.

“I’ll do it,” he told the two of you, his voice pleasant and lightly accented, his hand held out to Kiyoko gesturing for her to pass him the first aid kit, “I’ll bandage ya up. It’s only fair since the moron who scratched ya is too busy bein’ pampered.”

That earned a hiss from the golden cat, who immediately began to shift under your hands. You watched in surprise and no small amount of awe as he turned into a carbon copy of the other man who’d appeared, only with golden hair, ears and tail. You’d realized the two were related, but you hadn’t realized they were identical twins. Twins were really rare for hybrids, even more rare than human twins. As such they were usually snapped up for adoption right away, so it was rare to see them in any sort of center.

“If ya hadn’t stolen my puddin’ I wouldn’t have chased ya and scratched her in the first place,” the golden cat hybrid hissed at his brother.

“Well if ya hadn’t eaten my onigiri, maybe I wouldn’t have had to eat yer puddin’” the silver haired one retorted, his tone and expression both flatter compared to his sibling who looked like he might lunge at his twin at any moment.

Not wanting to get in the middle of a literal cat fight you held your own hand out to Kiyoko, who gratefully placed the first aid kit in your hands, then plopped down to sit cross legged on the floor. Your sudden movement startled both cat hybrids who turned to look at you, but you pointedly ignored them as you worked on opening the kit, and pulling out the things you’d need.

“Here I got it,” the golden haired one told you, plopping down beside you, “That scrub ain’t right about a lot of things, but he is right about this. I scratched ya, and I should fix ya.”

You gratefully held your arm out to him, and watched as he gently dabbed the scratches with disinfectant, grimacing slightly at the sting. You were distracted enough by his careful movements that you almost didn’t notice the other twin, right up until he gently smeared Neosporin over the scratches, placing small bandages over the deeper punctures.

“Thank you,” you told them both when they finished, automatically reaching up to pet their heads, but then pausing as you realized the gesture might not be as welcome in their human form.

Your worries were quickly allayed through as the golden one practically fell into your palm, soft, happy purring noises leaving his mouth as you gently scratched the base of his ears. His twin however didn’t immediately move for you, and you turned concerned eyes on him, worried he might be offended. The minute he saw you looking though he immediately leaned forward, pressing his head to your palm, his own soft purrs leaving his throat as you carded your fingers through his hair.

“I’m back,” a familiar voice sang, the door to the room sliding open to reveal Sugawara, with a cheerful grin on his face, a grin that was immediately replaced by wide eyed shock as he saw you and the two hybrids who were nearly in your lap with how close they were pressing towards you.

However, shock melted into fury as his eyes saw the open first aid kit and the bandages on your arm, his words nearly a hiss as he demanded, “What happened?!”

Both hybrids immediately stiffened under your hands, drawing closer to you, either looking to protect you or looking for protection you weren’t sure. Either way you allowed it, rubbing your hands over the backs of their necks in a way that always seemed to sooth Suna as you answered, “We just had a bit of a mishap is all, but we’ve cleared it up.”

“Are you sure?” Sugawara demanded anxiously, “We were told when they were brought in that they’d had a bit of trouble before, but they never mentioned that they might attack humans.”

The golden-haired twin seemed to bristle, and if he were in cat form you were sure all his fur would be puffed out as he glared at Sugawara. His twin didn’t look nearly as bothered on the surface, but close as you were, you could see how tight the muscles in his neck and shoulders were as if he was about to spring forward at any moment.

Instinctively you pulled the golden twin toward you, tipping him over into your lap. Despite his size it wasn’t all that difficult given he’d been practically leaning all his weight on you. He let out a yelp of surprise, but stayed still as you buried your fingers in his hair, keeping his cheek pillowed on your thigh. Your other hand gently squeezed the back of the silver twin’s neck, both holding him still and reminding him of your presence.

“It wasn’t an attack, simply an accident,” you assured Sugawara, as you soothed your thumb over the tense muscles of the silver one’s neck, hoping to get him to relax, “A bit like what happened with the dog hybrid earlier.”

“If you’re sure,” Sugawara told you, watching your pet the twins with wide eyes, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, “Does that mean you’ve decided to take them then? I know you were a little worried about adopting one hybrid so I never imagined you’d want two at once.”

“What?” you asked, a little overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of information, and the assumption he’d made.

“You’d have to take both of them,” Sugawara explained gently, “Admittedly sometimes twins are separated, but we don’t do that unless they want to be separated, and in this case both of them have stated they want to stay together.”

“That makes sense,” you agreed, with a smile. It was good that the center accommodated things like that, and you made a mental note to thank Ojirou for directing you to such an upstanding place.

“Should I get paperwork started?” Sugawara asked, with an answering smile, “If you’re taking the twins it will take a bit more work than usual, so I’d like to get started right away. No pressure though, you don’t have to make a decision today if you don’t want to.”

“I hadn’t really thought about adopting them,” you admitted, and felt both twins stiffen under your hands, so hurried to reassure them, “We haven’t had a chance to chat much yet. I’d like to talk to them a little bit first before we make any decisions.”

“Of course,” the kindly hybrid agreed with an understanding nod, “We’ll give the three of you some space and let you get to know one another a bit better.”

“Thank you,” you told him politely, waiting until he’d ushered Kiyoko a little bit away, clearly trying to give you some sense of privacy despite the fact that they were still well within earshot for hybrids, and likely interrogate the elegant female about what exactly had happened while he was gone.

“Do ya not want us,” the golden haired one asked you, once the two were gone, rolling over in your lap to peer up at you with wide copper eyes, the hint of a pout on his lips, and a little bit of hurt in his eyes.

“I don’t know yet,” you told him honestly, gently stroking his golden hair away from his eyes, “We don’t know each other, yet do we? Do you even know if you want to come with me?”

The two cat hybrids glanced at each other, clearly communicating silently with each other for a moment before turning back to you. The golden haired one had apparently been elected spokesperson because he was the one to admit, “We wouldn’t mind goin’ home with ya.”

“But you don’t even know my name, do you? And I don’t know yours either,” you pointed out, utterly baffled that they’d apparently already decided.

“I heard mister pleasant over there when he introduced ya,” the silver haired one told you with a shrug, “But if it matters so much to ya, I’m Miya Osamu and he’s Atsumu.”

“I can introduce myself ya know,” the golden haired on hissed, doing his best to glare at his brother, though you were sure the effect was entirely lost considering he was apparently refusing to move from your lap and was upside down, “And I didn’t get to hear yer name.”

“That’s because ya were sulkin’ in our room,” Osamu pointed out.

“And whose fault is that huh?” Atsumu demanded with a grimace.

“Yer own,” Osamu countered, looking utterly bored as he peered down at his brother. Atsumu made to lunge out of your lap, but was stopped by your hand pressed firmly to his forehead holding him in place. You took advantage of his moment of distraction to introduce yourself, gently rubbing behind his ears until he started purring again.

“And ya wonder why we want to go with ya,” Osamu told you sardonically, watching the two of you, “I ain’t ever seen anybody who could get ahold of Tsumu like that.”

“Do the two of you always squabble like that?” you asked, a little amused and a little concerned, “If I didn’t know better I would’ve thought one of you was a dog hybrid with how well you’re getting along right now.”

“It ain’t always so bad,” Osamu told you, turning his face away though you thought you saw the faintest hint of pink to his cheeks, “We’re just a little restless is all. We haven’t been here long so it’s just new, not as much freedom as we’re used to either bein’ cooped up for most of the day.”

“Surely they let you out if you want out,” you questioned, a little appalled that the center might be keeping hybrids like prisoners.

“Well sure,” Osamu answered turning back to you, his head tilted to the side as he studied you, “But there are only so many places a hybrid is allowed without an owner ya know.”

You winced slightly at the blunt statement, but couldn’t refute it. The law stated that all hybrids had to have a registered owner, and it was then up to that owner to set limits on the hybrid, about where they could go and what they could do. This was because if the hybrid caused any trouble, it was always on its owner to take responsibility which made things quite limited for them at times. There were lobbyists working to change that of course, as it was viewed as inhumane, but for now the law was the law.

“Did you have more freedom before here then?” you asked curiously, “I’ve heard this place is pretty good.”

“It’s not bad,” Atsumu piped in, his voice content and rumbly as he turned languid eyes in your direction, clearly not wanting to be left out of the conversation, “Better than the first center we were at when we first went up for adoption.”

“So you’ve been adopted before? Or did you just get moved from one of the other centers?” you asked curiously, only to have Atsumu go absolutely rigid under your hands as Osamu hissed at him, clearly angry with his brother, who’d apparently revealed something he shouldn’t if the way he shrank away instead of hissing back said anything.

You glanced between the two of them warily, unsure what to do as Atsumu pulled himself out of your lap so he could look at Osamu. The two of them were clearly communicating, both their tails swishing back and forth in clear agitation.

“We had an owner,” Osamu admitted at last, his words clearly careful as he peered at you from underneath the fringe of his hair, “But we didn’t get along with him so he surrendered us ta the shelter again and they sent us here.”

A part of you really wanted to ask why exactly they hadn’t gotten along with their old owner, but given the way Atsumu was refusing to meet your eyes, his nails practically digging into his thighs where he sat next to you, you got the feeling it would be kinder not to. Instead you carefully redirected the conversation back on topic and asked, “And what makes you think you’ll get along better with me than your previous owner?”

“Yer nothin’ like him,” Osamu told you bluntly, effectively shutting that avenue of conversation down.

“If you say so,” you told him calmly, holding his gaze until he glanced away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

It was clearly a sensitive topic, and you didn’t want to push. You’d just met the two of them today after all, you certainly wouldn’t have liked it if they tried to pry into your past, fair was fair after all.

“What do you picture yourselves doing all day?” you asked instead, figuring you might as well.

“Doing?” Atsumu repeated confused, tilting his head in a manner that you couldn’t help but find rather adorable.

“I’ll be at work most of the day during the week,” you explained patiently, “Which means you’ll be by yourselves for quite a bit of time. You’d be more than welcome to laze around if you really wanted to, but I figured I’d ask.”

“What kind of things are we allowed to do?” Osamu asked slowly, a strange look on his face that you couldn’t quite interpret.

“Anything within reason,” you told him with a helpless shrug, “I have money, it’s not an issue, so long as it’s legal, and doesn’t have the potential to hurt me, you or anyone else then I see no reason to place restrictions. My neighbor has a dog-hybrid who works a small rice farm that Ojirou bought him, but his cat-hybrid Suna spends most of his time either lounging around their apartment or playing sports with some of the other hybrids who live in the neighborhood.”

“Which sport?” Atsumu asked, eyes bright, all hesitation forgotten in the face of this new information.

“Volleyball I think,” you told him with a shrug, “Ojirou and I have gone to watch a few games, though I don’t think it’s just volleyball either.”

If Atsumu had been a dog-hybrid you were sure his tail would’ve been wagging a hundred miles an hour with how eager he looked, copper eyes bright in his face as he told you, “I like volleyball. Do you think he’d let me play?”

“You’d have to take it up with Suna, but I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” you admitted cautiously, earning a happy smile from the hybrid.

“What about you Osamu?” you prompted gently, “Do you play too, or is there something else you’re interested in?”

The silver furred hybrid looked startled to be addressed, but then slowly admitted, “I like to cook.”

“That’s amazing,” you praised, “I live on take out a lot of the time, unless I’m headed over to Ojirou’s or Kita, his dog-hybrid makes an extra bento for me. I really should cook more, but I tend to be on the go a lot and don’t want to dedicate the time.”

“It’s a bit of a shame though,” you admitted, feeling more than a bit sheepish, “One of the best features of my apartment is the kitchen and I hardly ever use it.”

You continued to chat lightly with the twins learning quite a bit about the two of them in the process. Atsumu was definitely the louder twin, always eager and a bit blunt with his words, always saying the first thing that came to mind. Osamu was quieter than his twin, letting his golden furred brother do most of the talking for the two of them. He wasn’t necessarily shy per se, and would answer when spoken to, but he seemed content for the most part to quietly observe before adding his two cents in.

The two of them together were utterly charming, which made you wonder just how they hadn’t been adopted yet. You were fairly sure it must have something to do with the reason they’d been returned to their adoption center, though for the life of you, you couldn’t guess what that reason might’ve been.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sugawara cut in gently, interrupting Atsumu telling you all about the last volleyball game he’d played in, “But the center is closing to visitors in a few minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized immediately, hurriedly scrambling to your feet, feeling more than a bit guilty, “I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.”

“That’s alright,” Sugawara assured you with a kind smile, “It sounds like the three of you are getting along well.”

“I think so,” you admitted, glancing at the twins who’d both risen to their feet as well, both of them far more graceful than you could ever hope to be.

Both of them were watching you, Atsumu with tentative hope clear on his face, and Osamu completely unreadable except for the agitated twitch of his tail which told you he wasn’t pleased your conversation had been interrupted.

“I’m glad,” Sugawara told you, “Do we have any kind of decision made?”

“I…” you started glancing between the twins, who were both looking at you. Gut instinct meant you wanted to say yes. You’d gotten along well and you thought you might continue to enjoy one another’s company. They seemed like they’d slot into your life pretty easily. However you were still a bit hesitant. Adopting one hybrid had seemed like a big deal, but adopting two?

Plus you’d only met them today. Maybe you were being overly cautious but a single day didn’t seem like nearly enough time to get to know someone before inviting them to live with you, no matter how much your heart urged you to say yes.

“Actually, it doesn’t matter,” Sugawara interrupted, an apologetic expression on his face, pulling you from your thoughts as he explained, “We wouldn’t have time to finish the paperwork before it’s time to close, so you wouldn’t be able to take them home with you anyway, not today at least.”

“But…!” Atsumu tried to protest, but quelled as Sugawara shot him a stern look.

“I think that it will be good for all of you to sleep on your decision,” the cat-hybrid told all three of you firmly, gently beginning to usher you from the room, before telling you, “You can come back tomorrow if you like. We’re open at the same times then.”

“Alright,” you agreed, following after him without a fuss, only to pause in your tracks at a heartbreaking mewling sound.

You turned around to see Atsumu staring after you with devastation written all over his handsome features, his hand outstretched like he was trying to reach out and physically stop you from leaving. Before you’d really thought about it your feet had carried you back, and you’d pulled the hybrid into your arms.

Atsumu clutched you tightly, burying his face in your neck and rubbing his cheek against yours in a move you recognized as scenting. You let him do as he pleased without protest, gently running your fingers through his soft golden hair. However, you were conscious of Sugawara waiting for you, so you gently extracted yourself after a few minutes.

Turning you saw Osamu watching you with an unreadable expression on his face, but you stepped toward him, offering your open arms anyway, waiting patiently. You were rewarded for that patience as he stepped into your hold, nuzzling at you the same way his twin had on the opposite side.

“I’ll come back,” you found yourself promising, “I have work tomorrow, but after I’ll be here.”

Osamu drew back and peered into your face, copper eyes boring into your own, clearly searching for something before nodding, “We’ll hold ya to that.”

You let Sugawara usher you out after that, but found yourself tearing up a bit as you followed after him. You desperately didn’t want to leave the twins behind. Somehow, someway you’d gotten terribly attached to them in just a few short hours.

Your sniffling apparently caught Sugawara’s attention, because he turned around and hurriedly fumbled a packet of tissues from one of his pockets.

“I’m sorry,” he told you apologetically, “I thought maybe you wanted more time to think things over. We can still do paperwork tonight if you want I don’t mind staying a bit late.”

You looked at him, startled that he’d apparently picked up on your hesitation as you gratefully accepted the tissues, dabbing at your eyes and blowing your nose before replying, “No, no you’re right. It’s not a decision I should make impulsively. I do want to think it over I just…”

You trailed off helplessly, unsure what to say or how to explain that you’d gotten incredibly attached and were currently having a crisis as your head and heart were at war with each other. However, Sugawara apparently understood as he nodded in clear sympathy.

“Don’t worry,” he assured you, “That’s completely understandable, adopting a hybrid is no small thing. Those troublesome twins will still be here waiting for you tomorrow, so take all the time you need to think it over.”

“I will,” you told him, then tacked on sincerely, “Thank you, for all your help today. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he told you with a bright, pleased smile as he walked you to the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” you agreed with a smile, letting yourself out and heading back for your car.

The drive home your thoughts were absolutely full of the twins, and what it might be like to have them with you. Your heart and your mind were at war with one another, your heart desperate to run back to the center as soon as it opened in the morning for the cat hybrids, and your head worrying about what it might mean to have both of them and why they’d been returned to the center by their previous owner.

You were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you almost didn’t notice Suna as you walked passed Ojirou’s door, headed to your own.

“What is that?” Suna demanded, his voice making you pause in your tracks.

“What is what?” you asked him baffled as he strode toward you nose in the air, clearly picking up something.

“You smell like hybrid,” he informed you his tone accusatory, watching you with narrowed golden eyes.

“Do I?” you asked mildly.

“You do,” he affirmed, “Doesn’t she Kita?”

“Doesn’t she what?” the collie hybrid asked, emerging from somewhere deeper in the apartment.

“Smell like hybrid,” Suna explained, his tail twitching languidly behind him and eyes alight with interest.

“You do,” Kita agreed, after carefully scenting the air, “Two of them actually.”

“Really?” Suna asked, clearly surprised, moving closer to sniff at you again, “You sure?”

You held still, too used to his behavior to be bothered by it, partly amused and partly annoyed at the cat hybrid who was clearly digging for information.

“Yes I’m sure,” Kita told him calmly, “They’re very similar, but there.”

“They’re identical twins,” you explained, figuring the jig was up anyway, and hoping maybe Ojirou or Kita would have some advice that might help you with your quandary.

“Ho?” Suna asked a purr of interest in his voice as he inhaled and nodded to himself, then asked slyly, “And what were you doing with these twins to have their scent on you so thoroughly?”

“Is Ojirou home?” you asked Kita, completely ignoring Suna’s question, earning a chuckle of amusement from the Siamese.

“He’s here,” Kita agreed, “Did you need to speak with him?”

“Both of you, if you have a minute?” you questioned hopefully.

“For you? Always,” Kita assured you kindly ushering you in.

“Oya, I think I’m hurt,” Suna told you as he followed along behind, a feline smirk on his face, “What about me? Don’t you want my advice too? After all they’re cat hybrids aren’t they?”

“They are,” you agreed with a huff as you plopped into your normal chair, “But are you going to give me good advice, or are you going to say whatever you think will be most amusing for you?”

“What’s this about cat-hybrids?” Ojirou asked, emerging from the hallway, where Kita had gone to fetch him.

“She’s thinking about adopting twin cat-hybrids,” Suna informed him before you had the chance to speak up, smug as the cat who got the canary.

“Are you really?” Ojirou questioned with a grin, taking his own seat.

“Yes,” you agreed, shooting the smug Siamese a look for interrupting and stealing your thunder, “I went to that adoption center you recommended today.”

“That’s great,” Ojirou told you, leaning forward in his chair eagerly, “How did it go?”

You explained your meeting with the twins, happily accepting the drink Kita pressed into your hands, which was your favorite, as the collie hybrid got everyone settled and then settled in himself to listen. You talked about how much you liked them, but your wariness about getting not one but two hybrids, and the strange issue with them having a previous owner and being so cagey about it.

“I can see why you’re wary about used goods,” Suna noted.

“Don’t call them that,” you snapped, despite the fact that you could hear the tinge of sarcasm in his voice and knew he didn’t really mean it, unable to help yourself, “people aren’t like items, and shouldn’t be treated like them.”

“She’s right,” Kita told the Siamese sternly, “Even as a joke, that was a rude way to refer to them.”

Suna slouched in his seat, looking thoroughly chastised as he admitted, “I know you don’t see them like that. You’ve always treated us just like normal people.”

“That’s because you are just like normal people,” you told him, stroking your fingers through his hair to let him know you forgave him, “Just with enhanced senses and a different set of instincts at times.”

“I don’t know why you think you need our advice,” Ojirou pointed out reasonably, “It sounds like you’ve pretty much already made up your mind, you clearly adore them already.”

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted, “Do you think I can handle twin hybrids? Especially since I’ve never even had one before? I mean, I’m not like you, none of my family ever had one growing up, and the only ones I really know are Kita, Suna, and a couple that come into the office with Tendou from time to time.”

“We’re not exactly children,” Kita reasoned, logically, “We don’t actually require all that much care outside of the basics, which I know you’re monetarily able to provide, and companionship, which is the whole reason you decided to seek out a hybrid in the first place. One or two, does it really matter? It might even be better as they’ll be able to keep each other company if they get lonely when you’re gone, and I see no reason we can’t help you look after them too.”

“You’d do that?” you asked the collie hybrid, surprised.

“Of course,” he agreed with a tiny smile, “We’re friends are we not?”

You smiled at him, touched, and extremely reassured by his ever cool logic. It did make sense, and quelled some of your worries, plus knowing the extremely reliable hybrid would help you out if you needed it was incredibly comforting.

“I wouldn’t worry about them being returned to their center,” Suna told you, surprisingly serious, “Hybrids get returned for all sorts of reasons, but most of the time its owner incompatibility rather than behavioral issues. Plus that center wouldn’t let you adopt them if they thought they’d give you trouble.”

“But Sugawara did say they’d heard the twins gave someone trouble,” you admitted, recalling the conversation with the worried cat-hybrid.

“Yes, but they didn’t give you trouble,” Suna pointed out, “We cat hybrids tend to make up our minds pretty quickly about people. It sounds like they decided they liked you, and unless something really terrible happens they’ll keep liking you, we’re terribly stubborn that way.”

“If you’re really worried you can always ask the center about it,” Ojirou told you, “They keep records, and would probably tell you, especially if it’s a concern about their adoptability.”

“I don’t want to pry into something and lose their trust,” you admitted, even as part of you was incredibly tempted to do just that.

“Then maybe try asking if the center if they think whatever the issue was, will be an issue with you,” Suna reasoned, “And if they say no then let it lie and adopt them, and if they say maybe or yes, then tell the twins you can’t accept them if they can’t tell you what the issue was.”

“That seems fair to me,” Kita agreed with a nod, “Just make sure you’re honest and tell them you asked, just in case.”

“Okay,” you agreed, letting out a relieved breath, “Okay that sounds really reasonable to me. It’s just… do you think I’m rushing into this too fast? I mean going to the center today was an impulse.”

“I don’t think so,” Ojirou assured her thoughtfully, “You’ve been thinking about it for a while, haven’t you?”

“She’s put so much thought into it she’s actually over thought it,” Suna interjected wryly before you had a chance to answer.

You made a face at him but couldn’t actually argue. He might have a point about overthinking it. Reassured you spent a good couple hours talking with your neighbor and the two hybrids as they answered more of your questions, and you told them about the twins.

Eventually however you headed home, determined now to get at least a little bit prepared for the arrival of your two new housemates tomorrow. Luckily it wasn’t dirty, but running a load of laundry and doing a little vacuuming never hurt anyone. You didn’t have a whole lot for them and didn’t know what kind of things they might have or need, but hopefully your office with pull out futon and guest bedroom would suffice for now until you could take them shopping.

Falling into bed that night you let yourself feel your excitement for the first time. You were adopting a hybrid, not just one but adorable twin hybrids. You couldn’t wait to bring them home and maybe put an end to your loneliness once and for all.

Osamu glanced slowly around the room, trying not to look at his twin, the clock, or the doors to the main area of the shared living space the way Atsumu was. Yesterday had been a bit of a revelation. He’d never actually expected to approach the woman who’d shown up looking to adopt. After what happened with their last owner he’d never expected to ever actually want to be adopted again. However, somehow he’d found himself entranced by her, and he had no one but himself to blame.

When he’d initially strolled over, it was because he’d known via his bond to his older twin that he’d finally realized that Osamu had snagged his pudding for himself and was throwing a fit about it. He’d thought that his twin wouldn’t dare make a fuss if he was with a potential owner.

The rules of this place were pretty lax compared to the first center they’d lived in. It allowed them a lot more freedoms. It let them come and go from their rooms as they pleased rather than on a regimented schedule, and allowed them to turn down any potential adopter that they didn’t like, which had felt utterly shocking and unprecedented when he’d first been told about it. They gave them a small allowance they could spend or save as they chose, and even let them deal with their heats and ruts in whatever way they chose, including with other tenants so long as birth control was used.

It honestly felt like heaven compared to the first center they’d been at, and maybe even better than living with their previous owner even before everything had gone to shit. He wasn’t sure he’d even ever wanted to leave, which he’d been assured by several other tenants was also an option if he so desired.

However, the one rule that was the same between both centers was that they weren’t allowed to cause trouble with the humans that came looking to adopt. This was only good sense considering how much the law favored humans in cases of hybrid vs human issues. However, unlike the first center they’d lived, this one at least didn’t threaten to put them down if they misbehaved.

They’d been young back then, everyone in that center was, all of them below the age of twenty-one, because anyone who reached their twenty-second birthday disappeared and was never seen again. Thus he hadn’t known it was actually against the law to kill hybrids, none of them had known and the caretakers had perpetuated the rumor that those who reached twenty-two were killed instead of shipped off to other centers in order to make them that much more desperate to be adopted.

It had made him more than a bit bitter once he’d been with their new owner long enough to learn more about what was and wasn’t allowed when it came to human hybrid interactions. The man had actually found their previous beliefs amusing and had laughed at them more than once for being so naïve.

It was positively galling, and had made his hackles rise more than once. However he’d known better than to lash out and had better impulse control than Atsumu who’d been punished by their previous owner more than once for acting aggressively. Fortunately, Osamu had never liked being made fun of, and spite was a powerful motivator, meaning he’d practically memorized any and all of the laws that had to do with hybrids.

It meant the few times their owner had toed the line with Atsumu’s punishments that he’d been able to cite the law to pull him back, right up until their owner had decided he no longer cared and pushed too far, leading to them being removed from his home and put back up for adoption at this new center.

They had been here for just over a month and while several people had been interested in adopting the ‘rare gold and silver hybrid twins’ he had absolutely refused to engage with any of them. It was probably why that female alpha hybrid had been so shocked when he’d first approached.

He’d fully intended to just use the human to keep Atsumu at bay, right up until she’d crouched down and offered her hands to him and he’d gotten a whiff of her scent. He’d known from the few lessons their ma had bothered to teach them that hybrids relied a lot more on their sense of smell than humans did, and that scent was the basis of the instinct that told them who would be a good mate and who wouldn’t.

He’d originally thought compatibility could only be found with other hybrids, after all he’d met plenty of humans before both when he’d lived in the adoption centers and with his previous owner and never once had he gotten a hint of compatibility with any of them. He thought he could be forgiven for completely losing his head and giving over to his instincts as he caught the scent of the most compatible person he’d ever met.

Her scent was honestly indescribable, and his instincts had him purring within seconds as he tried to rub her scent all over himself. She’d obliged, petting him with fingers that had felt magical, her touch kind and soothing and perfect as she rubbed his ears, carded fingers through his fur and rubbed her hand along his back.

He’d been lost in a dizzy haze of touch and scent and probably would’ve remained that way if not for the fury of his brother, which had jolted him out of it. It had been like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head pulling him from his happy haze and reminding him of the whole reason he’d come up to the human in the first place.

He probably should’ve run off, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to move very far, instead darting around to hide behind her. He’d thought that once Atsumu saw her he’d stop and at least hold off attempting to get vengeance until later, but he’d overestimated his brother again, who was apparently more incensed than he’d guessed about the lost pudding.

Instinct had kicked in and before he’d really thought about it he was running away from his brother, darting around her legs in a game of chase that was both amusing and a bit annoying, especially when he could tell how much it was pissing his brother off, his sibling’s annoyance pulsing down their bond in waves of sparks.

He wasn’t sure how long it would’ve continued, as they’d actually run around like this until someone got tired before, usually Atsumu as he got fed up and didn’t have the patience to keep going. However, he’d suddenly found himself plucked right up into the air.

He’d been amused when she’d scolded Atsumu, though the amusement had faded a bit when she’d decided to scold him too, leaving him feeling properly chastised. He’d been more than a bit pissed off with his brother when he’d realized the nice smelling woman was bleeding because of him, though there’d also been a small frisson of fear, wondering what the consequences would be.

However, to his surprise she hadn’t actually seemed all that angry with either of them. Instead she’d immediately accepted Atsumu’s apologies as his brother, who’d managed to get a lungful of her scent had cuddled up to her. He could feel Atsumu’s deep interest in the human. His brother clearly also scented compatibility with her, which wasn’t surprising given they’d shared almost everything else in their lives.

He’d found himself more than a little bit jealous as he’d watched his brother soak up her attention. It had always been like that to an extent. Atsumu had always been the more outgoing one, the one who attracted attention, who wore his heart on his sleeve and somehow managed to win people over despite his often crass personality. Osamu had always kind of faded into the background as he was much quieter and had better control over his emotions, the silver to his gold, the shadow to his light.

Normally he didn’t mind, but this time being forgotten had stung. They’d always competed with each other, but most of the time he’d been humoring his brother, or simply hadn’t wanted Atsumu to win rather than wanting the prize of winning himself. This time though it had felt like more than that. No way was he going to let his brother steal her all to himself.

Before he’d really thought about it he’d reached out a paw, and to her credit she’d immediately offered him a sweet smile and resumed her wonderful petting. Atsumu hadn’t been pleased, but he hadn’t cared a bit.

It hadn’t surprised him at all that when Shimizu had come back with the first aid kit that Atsumu had insisted on taking over when he’d been the one to offer first. The two of them had continued to quietly compete over her attention as they fixed up her scratches, though he could at least feel his brother’s guilt for inflicting them on her in the first place, which did help sooth some of his annoyance with his older twin.

It was utterly gratifying that even when she had Atsumu literally in the palm of her hand, she’d still looked for him too. He’d tried to shove the feeling down and away, trying to remind himself that neither he nor his brother actually wanted another owner, but found it wasn’t working well. The combination of her scent and her fingers as she massaged her fingers through his hair enough to make him want to curl up in her lap and never leave.

He’d thought they might get in trouble when Sugawara returned. His fellow silver cat-hybrid belonged to the owner of the center, and took his job very seriously. He wouldn’t allow any of them to make trouble, and while he respected him, and admittedly envied him a bit for the clear trusting and loving relationship he had with his owner it didn’t stop him from wanting to claw his eyes out for bringing up their past in front of her.

Right when he was considering attempting to verbally eviscerate the other hybrid and damn the consequences his brother’s shock had pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned just in time to see her pull his twin into her lap. The feel of her hand gently squeezing his neck from behind practically made him limp with pleasure as Atsumu’s own bliss at being so close to her combined with his own to thoroughly distract the two of them, though not so much he didn’t notice her excusing their behavior and ensuring they didn’t get in trouble.

However, both of them had snapped to attention when the other hybrid had asked her if she wanted to adopt the two of them. He’d been able to feel his twin’s building hope, his impulsive brother apparently forgetting all about not wanting another owner, already clearly more than half in love with her despite not even knowing her for a day.

It was a trait he both hated and envied in his twin, the ability to be so impulsive, to move on so quickly and let go of past hurts. It wasn’t something he was capable of. He knew he was a grudge holder and far slower to trust than his brother was. He liked to think it served him well and kept him from being as naïve as Atsumu could be, though there were times it made things difficult too.

He’d been unsure whether he wanted her to state her intention to adopt them or not, right up until she’d said she hadn’t even considered it. It stung more than he’d expected, his own small hurt amplified by his brother’s though both of them had been somewhat soothed by her explanation that she wanted to know them better.

It was extremely reasonable and made him like her all the more, knowing she was the cautious type, more like him than like Atsumu, even if he simultaneously wished she’d been a little more impulsive just this one time and said yes instead. Though he found himself heartened by her honesty. That she’d actually asked them if they wanted to go with her rather than making any sort of assumption had settled things for him.

He hadn’t needed Atsumu’s silent pleading to forget their original plans to agree that maybe they should give this human a chance, though it did make it easier in the end to agree as he wasn’t the only one who wanted it.

They’d both tried to win her over, and though they’d accidentally fallen into squabbling more than once she’d handled it like a champ, not at all put off and even amused by it if the smile was any indication. However, despite the fact that they were the ones trying to win her over, it seemed every word she spoke was actually meant to win them over instead.

She was nothing like their previous owner, who’d been strict with his rules and harsh with his punishments. In fact she didn’t speak about punishments at all. He wasn’t naïve enough to think there wouldn’t be any if they misbehaved, but the freedoms she was offering in turn more than made up for anything she might throw their way.

The biggest hiccup had been when Atsumu mentioned their previous owner. The horror and guilt he’d felt from his twin was the only reason he’d managed to keep himself from doing more than hiss at him. His stomach had sunk when she’d gently pressed them for answers, but he knew they had to give her something.

He’d tried to give her as little as possible unwilling to volunteer the information, both because he hated even thinking about their time with their previous owner and because he was afraid she might somehow decide she didn’t want them because of it. In the end she’d changed the subject herself, and not brought it up again, but as she’d walked away from them with Sugawara, leaving them behind he’d wondered rather despairingly if that hadn’t been a mistake.

It didn’t matter that she’d turned around to comfort them when Atsumu had been unable to keep his heartbreak quiet. He’d known the minute she walked out the doors the chances of her coming back were slim to none. That was the other thing that remained consistent between this shelter and the last. Once a potential owner walked away claiming they needed to ‘think on it’ they never came back.

Still he hadn’t been able to turn away from her embrace, or to stop himself from scent marking the opposite side of your neck from the one his twin had claimed, laying his own personal stamp with the faint hope it would remind you to come back for them. However, no matter what you’d said, he couldn’t bring himself to hope. He knew hoping would only lead to more disappointment, and he wasn’t like Atsumu he wouldn’t be able to bounce back from it.

Not that his twin was making it easy on him. His brother’s hope was so fierce it was almost painful and he could feel the slightly desperate edge to it. He’d gotten attached to her, not that he could blame him, he was more attached than he wanted to be too. However unlike him, Atsumu had fill faith you were coming back, so much so he’d actually packed up his room into the bags they’d brought from his old place and was ready to go.

Nothing Osamu or any of the others, who also seemed to understand how small the chance was that she’d come back for them, said could sway him. The moment it had passed three o’clock Atsumu had brought hjs bags out to the shared living area and began to sit vigil, waiting for her to come back.

Stubborn as ever his twin had ignored all the pitying looks sent his way and the fact that slowly but surely time had slipped by, leaving just half an hour until they were supposed to close. Though his face was resolute, his brother wasn’t actually stupid and Osamu knew it was only stubborn pride keeping him in place. He could feel the slow onset of his twin’s hurt and despair as each minute ticked down.

He’d contemplated leaving him, going to his own room to wallow, but he knew he could never abandon his twin. They’d been through everything together, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave him now.

He was trying to figure out if he could coax his brother into leaving his post when the door swung open, revealing Sugawara, who had a wide beaming smile on his face. His fellow silver hybrid cast a quick glance behind him before ushering his follower into the room.

He barely caught a glimpse of her before his brother practically launched himself at her, but it was enough to freeze him in his place, because it was her. She’d actually come back after all.

His brother had wrapped himself around her, burying his face in her neck and clinging to her like favorite a stuffed toy, not that she seemed to mind, if the hands she was running over his hair and back meant anything. He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, the words too quiet to hear over the sudden near painful hope and the rapid beat of his own heart at the thought that she’d come for them.

Atsumu’s joy was practically burning through him, combined with his restored faith and smug satisfaction that he’d been right all along about her coming back for them. It probably should’ve annoyed him, but he found that all he could really feel was a bone deep sort of relief.

“Where’s your brother?” she asked, as she finally managed to gently extract herself a bit from his twin’s embrace, though he noticed he didn’t let go entirely, one of his hands laced firmly with hers.

He immediately stood, letting himself fall back into his more human skin as he made his way toward them, not waiting for his brother to out him. She seemed to spot him immediately and the relieved smile on her face was enough to make his traitorous heart skip a beat.

“Osamu,” she greeted warmly, more warmly than he thought he’d ever been greeted by anyone before as she opened her free arm in an inviting gesture. It was maybe a little pathetic how readily he accepted that embrace, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, as he fell into her hold, face automatically nuzzling against the side of her neck that Atsumu had left unclaimed. A rumbling purr left his lips as he felt her press her face against his affectionately, as he allowed himself to cling to her for a bit.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she murmured to him quietly, her arm squeezing affectionately around his waist, genuine regret in her tone, “My boss made me stay a little longer than usual, and then there was an accident on the freeway. I called ahead though and Sugawara has almost all the paperwork done. I just need to collect the two of you, do some signing and we’ll go home okay?”

“Really? Yer takin’ us home?” he almost didn’t recognize his own voice given how weak it sounded, the quaver in it making him feel utterly ridiculous and overly emotional, something that was supposed to be his twin’s job, and frustrated him enough that he bit his lip nearly hard enough to bleed as he wrestled with himself, trying to get back in control of his emotions.

“Yeah, as long as you want to come, then I’ll gladly take you,” she offered with a gentle smile that made his heart squeeze nearly painfully in his chest, “Though there’s something I need to admit to first.”

He froze a little at that, staring at her anxiously as Atsumu also looked on, his blabbermouth brother finally silent and clearly wary. She carefully released him, though she still reached for his hand, peering between the two of them, anxious but also obviously determined. He allowed her to grasp her fingers, squeezing them automatically, anxiety making his heartrate skyrocket and bile rise in his throat.

“I asked the center about your previous owner,” she confessed, the words automatically making his heart drop, as he wondered numbly what they could’ve told her. Had she asked for the details? Was she afraid now? Had she changed her mind or decided to add some stipulations to their adoption?”

“I didn’t ask for details,” she clarified, her voice managing to cut through the haze of panic that had been rising in his chest, “All I asked was if they thought whatever had happened with your previous owner would cause trouble for me, or put any of us in any sort of danger.”

That didn’t actually sound so bad, and was even fairly reasonable the storm of hurt and anger that had been building behind his anxiety slowly dispersing the more he thought about it. He noticed that his grip on her hand had loosened a bit, and he retightened his hold, hoping the center had responded in a way that reassured her. Given that she was here, talking to them, he thought it wasn’t unreasonable to be hopeful.

“They said none of us would be in any danger, otherwise they never would’ve offered to take you both in, in the first place, and that they were sure you’d be alright with me,” she explained, her hand gently squeezing his in return.

He wasn’t sure if the bone deep relief he felt was his or his brother’s but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too caught up in the surging hope that followed it as she asked, “So, even knowing that I asked that, are the two of you still willing to come home with me?”

“O course we want to go with ya, right Samu?” his brother replied instantly, nuzzling into her neck insistently, clearly begging for attention, attention she seemed more than willing to give if the affectionate smile on her face was any indication. When she looked at him for confirmation all he could do was nod in agreement, unable to find the words for how very much he did want it and unwilling to sound ridiculous again.

The next half hour passed in a strange almost dream like haze, as he packed himself up, his smug brother clinging to her and gloating over how he was already finished, soaking up her attention as he made a mental note to get back at his annoying twin later. Once he finished packing all there really was, was a couple of signatures before he found himself in a nice car that was speeding along the highway.

Atsumu was chatting away in the front seat, practically bouncing as he asked their amused new owner anything that popped into his head as he tried to digest what had happened. Somehow, someway, they had an owner again.

You smiled to yourself as you listened to Atsumu babble away happily in the seat next to you. The golden furred twin hadn’t stopped bouncing since you’d showed up at the shelter, clearly over the moon that you’d come back for him. Osamu was quiet in the back seat, and you might’ve been worried he was happy to come with you if not for the way he’d scent marked you, almost frantically his hand clutched tightly to yours as you’d signed the paperwork to take them home.

It was pretty clear both twins had thought you weren’t coming back for them, and it had broken your heart a bit, and made you even more resolute that you’d done the right thing for all of you. You’d been anxious the whole day to get back to them, not nearly as focused on work as you probably should’ve been, which had been part of the reason for your delay in the first place.

You’d panicked more than a bit when you’d encountered the accident on the way there, afraid that you’d break your promise to the twins. It had only been Sugawara’s kind voice, assuring you that he’d start the paperwork while you drove and even stay open late if necessary for you to get there, that had kept your guilt and panic at bay.

Now that you had them with you weren’t quite sure how you felt. Dazed that it was actually happening, excited for what the future might bring, and a little anxious about all the changes you’d have to make in your life even as you looked forward to those changes more than anything.

However, before you headed for home there were a couple things you needed to do first. Luckily you would hopefully find everything you needed in one place, at least for today. You wanted to give them time to settle in a bit, more shopping could come later when they’d decided what they needed.

“Where’s this?” Atsumu asked, pausing in his excited babble to look at you with confusion, as you pulled into the large parking lot, “Ya don’t live here do ya?”

“Don’t be stupid,” his brother huffed from the backseat, “Yer gonna make her think we’re some kind of bumpkins, ya know what a mall is Tsumu.”

“O course I know what a mall is,” Atsumu blustered, twisting around in his seat to glare at his twin, “I just thought maybe she had an apartment nearby is all. Who knows how rich people live?”

You huffed in amusement, reaching out without thought to ruffle his ears affectionately. The golden haired hybrid froze for a minute under your touch, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong, freezing as well, before a rumbling purr left his chest as he pressed his head further into your hand.

“You’re too cute,” you murmured almost to yourself as you gently scratched his ears and stroked your hand over his face and neck, unable to keep the smile from your lips.

“We’re only stopped here for a quick couple errands,” you explained to both twins, reluctantly pulling away from Atsumu who offered a pout but didn’t protest, “I noticed you don’t have as much as I thought you would, and I want to get you more comfortable collars to wear when we’re in public.”

Both twins hands immediately flew to the simple brown leather bands around their necks. All hybrids were required to wear collars in public to identify them as belonging to someone. The collars had a tag on them, which was essentially a small chip that had all their owner’s information in it, that when scanned would tell someone how to get in contact with their owner. It was to ensure they behaved and that if they didn’t their owner could be forced to take responsibility for their actions. Any hybrid who walked around without a collar immediately had the police called and was brought in and held until they could figure out why they were without.

You’d heard horror stories about the way such hybrids were treated, innocent hybrids who’d accidentally lost a collar somewhere and been so traumatized when they were finally returned to their owners that they were never the same again. Which of course was why you were determined it was never going to happen to your twins, even if a part of you balked at the idea of putting a symbol of ownership on another sentient being. Judging from the looks on their faces, Atsumu’s much easier to read than Osamu’s they’d heard stories too, and neither of them bothered to protest.

“Come on,” you urged gently, climbing out of the car yourself, “The sooner we get the unpleasant stuff done the sooner we get to the good stuff. I’ve got a couple things in mind I’d like to get you both as welcome home presents, but if there’s anything else you think you want or need feel free to ask.”

“Presents?” Atsumu asked eagerly, practically bounding out of the car.

“That’s right,” you agreed with a small laugh, watching him sulk a bit as he realized his brother had beaten him in securing your free hand, Osamu’s fingers laced with your own and a smug smirk on the silver hybrid’s face, “So keep close and let’s get going okay?”

Luckily the mall wasn’t too crowded, and while the twins got more then their fair share of admiring looks, doubtless both because of how good looking they were and how rare twin hybrids in general were, no one actually dared to approach your group, even as Atsumu practically bounced around glancing around the mall in fascination and reminding you more of an eager puppy than a supposedly slightly older cat hybrid.

Osamu was much more dignified and kept close to your side, though judging from his wide-eyed look that he couldn’t quite hide behind his stoic façade he was just as in awe as his brother. You were starting to get an impression of their previous owner and it was far from good.

You’d known that some owners kept their hybrids close to home, either because they were overly protective or possessive, and it had always rubbed you the wrong way. Ojirou had always allowed Kita and Suna to do as they pleased for the most part, treating them as capable adults and equals, more like roommates than the pets some treated their hybrids as and his was the example you were going to strive to follow.

It was why your errands today were so important, because while you would happily have let your twin hybrids run around as they pleased dressed however they pleased a collar was unfortunately the one thing they couldn’t be without, especially if they were going to go outside without you.

Luckily the mall was outfitted with several hybrid specialty stores and it didn’t take you long to find one dedicated entirely to collars. Both twins were a little wide eyed at the selection, and neither seemed to know quite what to say as you roamed through the aisles together looking at the selection.

Several of them made you grimace in outright distaste, the collars boasting accessories like inward facing spikes or tracking devices that would alert the owner if the hybrid tried to leave their home. It made you feel a little sick to your stomach, so you instead turned to the less intrusive ones.

“Do you see anything you like?” you asked the twins, squeezing Osamu’s hand affectionately, “You don’t have to wear collars in the house if you don’t want to, but you’re going to need them if you want to leave when I’m not home, which means you’ll probably be wearing them a lot, so make sure to pick something you like. You can even pick a couple if you want it to match your outfit for the day or whatever I don’t mind spending a little more to get a handful of chips programmed.”

Both twins blinked at you owlishly clearly startled by the offer, which made your heart hurt for them, even as they hesitantly turned back toward the displays, looking more closely than they had before.

“Do ya have any restrictions?” Osamu asked bluntly, not quite looking at you as he eyed a display of thick leather ones that didn’t look comfortable in the slightest.

“No,” you assured him, “I’m not the one who has to wear it.”

Osamu nodded slowly, and seemed to be taking his time as he perused the collars. You let him do as he liked, allowing him to lead. You’d only loosened your hold on him once, thinking he may like to wander the store like his brother and not have to tow you along with him, but the way his hand had reflexively tightened on yours in response had put paid to that assumption and you’d immediately re-laced your fingers together.

In the end Atsumu approached you first, holding a collar out to you hopefully. It actually looked like it was meant more for a dog hybrid, thick black leather with steel spikes on it, making it look fairly fierce. Personally you thought it was gaudy and was probably going to be uncomfortable, but you tried not to let your distaste show, after all you’d said anything they wanted and you’d meant it. Luckily in the end you didn’t need to say anything.

“What the hell is that?” Osamu demanded when he caught sight of the collar in his brother’s hands, the disgusted look on his face letting you know his feelings quite clearly.

“It’s a collar scrub, what else would it be?” Atsumu replied with a sneer for his twin you were beginning to think was automatic.

“I’m not the scrub you are,” the silver twin sneered, “Because only a scrub would wear somethin’ like that.”

“Oy,” Atsumu interjected, with a fierce glare, “She said we could have what we wanted.”

“Yeah but she probably thought ya had some sort of taste, she doesn’t know you well enough to know how scrubby ya are scrub,” Osamu hissed back.

“Alright guys,” you interjected gently, squeezing Osamu’s hand and reaching out to gently ruffle Atsumu’s ears, aware of the eyes of the cashier which had definitely turned in your direction given the twins were getting louder and louder by the second, “Let’s try to keep it to polite volume levels in public hmm?”

“Sorry,” both twins grumbled, identical pouts on their faces that made you giggle.

“It’s alright,” you assured them fondly, “Just try to be good okay?”

They nodded though Osamu clearly needed to get the last word in as he turned to you with pleading eyes, “Ya think it’s an abomination too don’t ya?”

“I said you could have whatever you wanted,” you told him diplomatically, “If this is what Atsumu likes, then of course he can have it.”

“Ha, see!” Osamu demanded of his twin, clearly seeing right through your attempt at diplomacy, “She thinks it’s ugly too!”

“Do ya really think it’s ugly?” Atsumu asked you sulkily eyeing the collar in his hands.

You’d known before that you were weak to pleading eyes, but it turned out you were even more weak to the pleading copper eyes of your hybrid, the thought that he might be sad tugging at your heartstrings.

“I just worry you’ll be uncomfortable,” you assured him, letting go of Osamu’s hand and gently cupping his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along his cheeks affectionately, the same way you did for one of the hybrids that occasionally came to your office to sulk when his owner brought him to work but didn’t pay attention to him.

Atsumu immediately leaned into your palms, heavy lidded eyes half-shut with bliss as you explained, “It’s summer right now, and there’s no padding so it will be hot, heavy and probably chafe. Plus didn’t you say you wanted to play volleyball? Won’t it get in the way? I can definitely get it for you if you like it, but maybe pick something else too, okay?”

“Kay,” your golden twin agreed, sounding completely and utterly content as he nuzzled into your hands, making your heart melt in your chest.

“What about this one?” Osamu offered, pulling your attention away from his brother.

He was holding a collar in his hands, one that actually looked more like a necklace a thin but sturdy looking cord of leather fastened with a silver chain in the front that clasped on both ends to a silver hoop that suspended a solid silver disc in the middle that on close inspection revealed that it housed the chip needed for identification.

“That looks really nice,” you praised, letting out a breath of relief at his choice. You weren’t a big fan of the collars in general, but seeing it look more like a necklace made it seem far more tolerable. Plus it was black and silver and thus would probably go with just about anything he chose to wear.

Letting go of Atsumu to take the collar from his twin, you completely missed the smug smirk directed over your shoulder by Osamu as you inspected it, though Atsumu certainly didn’t, giving his twin an annoyed glare above your head.

In the end, while Atsumu sulked and complained about it, he did actually put the original collar he’d offered back and go with Osamu’s choice, even though you offered to get him both. He refused, sulking slightly all the while, but remained insistent that he only needed the one, even though you ended up buying four collars total, so you could have two back-ups. Though he did insist on holding your hand to make up for the disappointment.

Luckily the manager didn’t seem to mind having to program all four collars, tapping away at the computer, while Atsumu sulked a bit by your side and Osamu somehow managed to all but radiate smug superiority. The cashier carefully ringing up your purchases for you as you pulled your wallet out.

“A word of advice?” the cashier offered as you waited for the programmed collars, surprising you with his forwardness.

“You’re too indulgent with them,” he continued on, not giving you the chance to refute the need for him to speak, “Hybrid’s need a firm hand. You’ll spoil them if you let them get away with raising their voices in public and causing a scene. Don’t ever let them forget their place.”

You felt more than saw both twins bristle on either side of you, and gently squeezed Atsumu’s hand, before laying your hand over the back of Osamu’s neck. You wouldn’t care a bit if they wanted to verbally eviscerate the man who was eying them with clear distaste, a distaste you were almost sure stemmed from jealousy given the lascivious looks he probably thought you hadn’t noticed levelled in your direction. Unfortunately, you also didn’t want them to get into trouble, and weren’t quite sure what the law said about how hybrids were allowed to defend themselves from humans, something you planned to rectify as soon as possible.

For now however you weren’t about to let the twins get in trouble and cut in your tone as cold as you could make it, “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, nor do I care about what you think in the least. I’ll treat them how I want to treat them, which means I’ll spoil and pamper them as much as I like. I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself in the future if you want to keep this business running. As it is I’ll be sending my complaint to your superiors. Let’s go guys, we can find other collars elsewhere. It’s not like they’re hard to find.”

“Wait! The chips are already programmed and you haven’t paid,” the manager protested, standing up from the computer looking utterly appalled.

“Should’ve thought of that before your employee opened his mouth, and decided to spew his unwanted bile everywhere,” you countered with a shrug, “I’d consider finding better employees in the future if I were you, or at least teach them to keep their mouths shut.”

“But the chips can’t be removed from these collars, they’ll be completely ruined,” the manager put in, sounding more than a bit despairing.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, feeling genuinely bad for the woman, after all it wasn’t her fault the other employee was an ass, “But that’s not my problem. I refuse to support any sort of business that would treat its customers like this.”

The glare she leveled on her fellow employee was utterly ferocious and had him cowering back in his seat. Not that you could blame her for being upset, each collar was about three hundred USD so the sale they were losing out on was enormous.

“I can offer you a discount?” she tried hopefully, “Fifty percent off?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully, but didn’t reply instead turning to look at the twins who’d clearly been more than ready to follow you out of the store, “What do you think?”

“Us?” Atsumu asked, clearly baffled.

“Yes, you,” you told him with a fond smile, “You’re the ones who got insulted, not me, and they’re your collars. I’m happy to buy you whatever you like from wherever you want it, whether that’s here or somewhere else.”

“Seventy-five percent off,” Osamu bargained from her other side, taking you by surprise. You turned to see him watching the manager with shrewd eyes, and when it looked like she would protest he added in, “Seventy-five percent off and we won’t leave bad reviews on every site we can or send letters of complaint to upper management.”

“Agreed,” the manager huffed, shooting another vicious look at her employee, one that clearly read that it would be coming out of his salary.

You huffed, amused at Osamu’s bargaining, gently massaging your thumb against the base of his neck affectionately before releasing both twins and moving to pay, only spending a quarter of what you’d originally planned.

“Nice work,” you praised the silver hybrid once the three of you were out of the store and out of earshot.

Osamu shot you a sly smirk, looking exceedingly pleased with himself as he walked beside you. Atsumu had claimed your hand this time, so he was carrying the bags, though it didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

“Now that, that’s taken care of, let’s go grab your gifts,” you told the twins, tugging them along to the PineApple store.

“Presents?” Atsumu asked eagerly, practically bounding along beside you, your intertwined hands swinging back and forth between you.

Laughing you simply pulled him with you into the store. Both twins were wide-eyed as you browsed through, clearly unused to the cutting edge technology on display, both of them exceedingly cautious with the expensive looking tech. It took some gentle urging, but eventually you managed to get phones and laptops picked out for each of them.

“Isn’t this too much,” Osamu asked you in an undertone, clearly worried as an employee walked Atsumu through getting his laptop set up. It turned out that of the twins Osamu was definitely more technically savvy and loved his new laptop, though Atsumu had already managed to download several apps and games on to his phone and was thoroughly enjoying them as well, “It’s expensive.”

“I have the money,” you assured him gently, “And besides, everyone has a phone these days. I want you guys to have them in case you get in trouble when I’m not home and need to reach me, like if you got lost or hurt or simply need a human to ensure you’re treated fairly. I’d feel awful if you needed me and I didn’t know.”

“The laptops are so you don’t get too bored at home, though I hope you’ll find things to enjoy outside the apartment too,” you continued, absently stroking your hand up and down his back.

“Will you be wanting hybrid trackers in the new phones?” the employee asked, her voice professional as she began to ring up your purchases.

You hesitated. On one hand you hated the idea of invading the twins privacy, and on the other you knew that you fully intended to let them roam as they pleased so wouldn’t it be better to have the tracker just in case? A quick glance showed that Osamu was impassive as ever, and even Atsumu just looked bored, not paying any attention whatsoever, instead tapping away at his new phone.

“What do you think?” you asked them, more than willing to hear their opinions on the matter.

“You’re the owner,” Osamu told her, apparently speaking for both of them as he gave an unconcerned shrug, which wasn’t helpful in the least.

You grimaced a bit trying to think of a compromise before finally pulling out your own phone and asking the employee, “Is there anyway to ensure all three of the phones will track each other?”

“Let me go ask,” she told you politely, turning away to go grab someone more knowledgeable.

“That’s fair right?” you asked hesitantly, “This way you know where I am too and can come find me if you need me.”

“Yeah,” Osamu agreed, giving you a look that you thought might be something as close to awe as you’d seen on the silver haired hybrid, “Yeah that’s fair.”

The employee quickly returned and confirmed they could indeed make all three phones track one another, and in the span of a few minutes managed to get your purchases complete. Feeling like that was probably enough for now, you led them back towards the car.

It was starting to get pretty late, and the minute you’d exited the mall Osamu’s stomach had given a loud rumbling growl. Atsumu had made fun of him for all of a minute, before his own stomach betrayed him. You’d shaken your head at their antics, but allowed a surprisingly eager Osamu to order whatever he wanted for carryout from the Chinese place near your apartment.

One quick stop for the food, and you finally managed to bring your new hybrids home. Both of them were a little quiet as you led them up to your apartment, staring around and clearly taking everything in. Either Ojirou, Kita and Suna weren’t home, or they’d decided to give you time to settle with the twins as they didn’t emerge from their apartment as you arrived in the hallway and fumbled the door open.

“Here we are,” you told them, hitting the lights, “Home sweet home.”

Both twins were laden with things, carrying their purchases, the food, and their things from the adoption center. Still looking at them was enough to make your heart clench. It had only taken one trip to bring everything up, but despite hybrids being stronger than normal humans it still made your heart clench to see how very little the twins actually had. Each of them only had a medium sized suitcase of things, and Atsumu had a worn volleyball but that was it aside from the things you’d bought them. It was something you were determined to fix for the future, but for now you’d make do.

“I know you’re hungry, so unless you want to settle in for a bit first we can eat and then I’ll show you around,” you offered.

The twins exchanged looks, but nodded in clear agreement. You pointed out the bathroom just in case, but then brought them to the kitchen, trying to show them where everything was as you pulled utensils from the drawers. Osamu clearly paid much more attention to her explanations than Atsumu did, though both diligently helped her set the table.

The food was really good, and thankfully sparked more conversation, even if it was more subdued than earlier, all of them worn out from the long day they’d had. Osamu was clearly very interested in food, and not just in eating it the way his brother was. You managed to coax out that he’d cooked for their previous owner from time to time, and told him that as long as he was careful he was more than free to use her kitchen and anything in it for whatever he wanted earning what felt like her first real smile from the silver haired twin.

Despite how tired they clearly were, both twins helped you clean up. For the first time since you’d first discovered the lovely little Chinese restaurant there weren’t actually any leftovers, the twins having consumed everything you said you didn’t want. As they worked you noted it really was kind of nice, even if things were quiet, to have the company as they went about their tasks.

“Alright, so I wasn’t sure if you’d want your own rooms or if you’d want to share,” you told them, gesturing for them to follow, “We’re going to have to do some shopping either way, since they’re your rooms and I want you to be able to personalize them any way you want, but I think they’re pretty equal in size.”

The twins stared at you, clearly surprised, glancing at each other, to the rooms you’d offered, to you, and back again, the gesture making her more than a bit nervous. You’d thought there was plenty of space for the two of them, but maybe they didn’t see it that way?

“We get our own rooms?” Atsumu asked at last, finally breaking the silence, his voice quiet and disbelieving, copper eyes huge in his face.

“If you want them, then of course they’re yours,” you assured him, concerned, “I still have to clean out my study, but I didn’t want to delay adopting you and I don’t think it will take too long. There’s a pull out futon in there, though you’re more than free to share if you want a bed, or I can take the futon and one of you can have my bed for now. I’ve certainly slept on the futon before and I don’t mind.”

“You’d give up your bed?” Osamu repeated, looking like you’d just smacked him over the head with a fish, more surprise on his face then you’d thought him capable of showing.

“Just until we find something for you,” you told him, a little puzzled at his surprise but with the sinking feeling that your suspicions about their former owner were correct.

“But, why?” Atsumu asked you, wide eyed and a little teary.

“Because, you’re mine now,” you assured him, unable to quite find the words you wanted to say, but hoping you were conveying your feelings at the very least, “And I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe and happy.”

The sad mewling sound he made in response to your words was enough to break your heart, as he pitched forward squeezing you into his chest and burying his face in your shoulder. You pressed your cheek to his hair, rubbing his back soothingly with one arm even as you automatically opened the other one for his twin, a gesture that was slowly becoming more and more familiar to you.

Osamu didn’t sob the way his twin did, but the way he squeezed you tight let you know he was just as moved as Atsumu even if he was quieter about it. Seeing their genuine gratitude for what you felt was common courtesy broke your heart, but even as it ached and you did your best to soothe them you swore to yourself, to love and care for your new hybrids so they’d never want for anything ever again to be the best owner it was possible to be after all they deserved nothing less.

Like this? Please feel free to drop in to my ask box and make requests! Just make sure to read the rules first!

Want to commission me or just support my writing? Visit my ko-fi!

179 notes · View notes

poge-life · 3 years ago

Text

Murder of Crows~ Jax Teller part 1

Summary: Weeks after the accident that left everyone disgruntled, you finally remember everything that happened. Only problem is, your husband doesn’t know what to do with the information he was given.

Warnings: Angst, a whole lot of it. Mentions of getting hit with an iron and someone getting stabbed.

word count: 3.7k

You dont remember much from the accident. You only remember arguing with someone and then waking up in the hospital two weeks later to find out Tara had been murdered and you were a person of interest.

Ending up with a concussion, 10 stitches in your head, along with three broken ribs. Clearly whoever attacked you, wanted to get some type of message across to SAMCRO. Any time you tried to think about what happened, you just got a migraine. You felt disappointed. You wanted to give the club anything they could to go after whoever it was that did this to you but it was impossible.

Jax had been distant since you woke up. He spent your first week in the hospital, at county. Patterson had walked into your house to see Jax holding your barely living body, along with Eli and Tara’s dead body. So, to them, he was a person of interest. You had no idea why Jax had been distant. Gemma had been to see you everyday since you woke up and would have Brooke or Wendy come up with your kids.

You and jax had three beautiful children together. Shortly after Abel was born, you got pregnant and nine months later, Cassandra Penelope Teller was born. Then, right before Jax, Opie, Tig, and Chibs had gone in, you found you were pregnant with twins. Nine months later, Thomas and Harry Teller were born.

Thomas being named after his brother and Harry after Opie. It was a bittersweet feeling when Jax had called you from county to tell you about Opie. So, you wanted to make sure Opie’s memory lived on with your son.

Things with SAMCRO had been going to shit since the accident. Jax had gone after the Chinese since they were the ones to attack you and kill Tara. Jax was still trying to get out of the gun business, but even in death Clay stills his claws so deep with the Irish. He had also been trying to get out of business with August Marks but he was even worse than Pope if that was even possible.

Jax was coming around with the kids after Abel and Cassie and you couldn’t be more excited. It had been almost a week since you’ve seen your children and you were getting antsy.

The door opened and Abel and Cassie both ran over to you, “Mommy!”

You sent both of them a bright smile, picking them up and placing Abel next to you while cassie sat on your lap. Jax had Thomas in his arms while Harry had chosen to hold onto his father’s hand.

“How was school?” You asked, smoothing back Abel’s hair as he leaned into your side, “Good. Daddy and Grandma had to come.”

You looked over at Jax in question, “oh?”

Jax had placed Thomas and Harry on the couch, giving them their tablets to keep them occupied. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, “The school called child services.”

You about gave yourself whiplash looking up at him,”What? Why?”

Jax sighed, sitting in the chair next to your bed that had an imprint of his body at this point from how much time he spent in it. He pulled Cassie into his lap and placed a kiss on her head, “show mommy your arm, buddy.”

Abel pulled his sleeve up to reveal a bandage, causing you to look over at Jax, who nodded his head at you to take it off. You took a deep breath before pulling it off, only to reveal 4 deep scratches on his arm.

You carefully examined his arm, tears in your eyes as you looked at your oldest, “what happened, baby?”

“Grandma scratched me.” Abel said, leaning back into your side as you looked at your husband in disbelief,” what?”

He leaned forward and grabbed your hand as Cassie slid off his lap to go sit with her brothers. Jax placed a kiss on your knuckles, “Wendy said she didn’t see anything when she got him dressed this morning but mom takes him to school. I don’t know what to do, babe.”

You sighed, “something’s been up with her. Every time she comes, she almost looks guilty? I don’t know. Something is just weird.”

It was quiet between you two for a moment before Jax quietly spoke, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t”

Jax shook his head, looking up at you with tears in his eyes, “this is my fault. I should have come with you. I should have just stayed with you that night.”

“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen, Jackson. If you stayed and the kids were home, what do you think would have happened to them? What happened that night...was not your fault.”

Jax’s phone rang before he could reply, looking up at you apologetically, “I gotta take this.”

You nodded your head as you gave his hand a squeeze, “go. Wendy is gonna be here soon. I’ll be fine with the kids.”

Jax nodded, leaning forward so he could place a kiss on your lips, “i love you”

“I love you too.”

After finally getting released from the hospital, you were allowed to go home. It was weird at first, being back in the house where you almost died and where two people did get killed but you couldn’t live in fear anymore.

It took you a while before getting back in the groove of things but Wendy and Brooke were a big help. Wendy helped with Abel and Cassie while Brooke helped with Thomas and Harry. Gemma would take Abel and Cassie to school when Wendy would have to work over at ™.

Something had been up with Jax since last night. He hadn’t come to bed after Wendy had left and you woke up to find him sitting in Abel’s room. You both had decided to tell Abel that Wendy was his real mom since she had done so much for both of you since you had been in the hospital and he took it well. You don’t think he fully understands what it actually meant but you both explained to him that you didn’t love him any less since you didn’t give birth to him and that you wouldn’t get offended if he wanted to call Wendy ‘mommy’ too.

Laying on the couch after finally getting the kids to bed, you sat in silence, enjoying the comfort of being home. It had seemed like Abel had been protective over you the last few days. You heard the front door open and let a smile make its way across your face.

Jax sat next to you on the couch as you leaned into his side. You noticed the look on his face, “Jax, what’s wrong?”

“Last night, after I put Abel to bed,” he started, “and he said something that really threw me off.”

“What’d he say?”

Jax didn’t speak right away, which made you worry so you sat up and turned to face him.

“What’d he tell you, Jax?” you quietly asked, grabbing onto his hand. Jax gave it a squeeze as he sniffled, causing you to turn his head to look at you, which now worried you even more at whatever your four year had told him.

“He said that...that Gemma hurt you and killed Tara so he could be with Wendy.” He spoke in a quiet voice.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him as you tried to process your husband’s words. It explained why Abel had been protective over you and his siblings. And why Gemma had looked guilty whenever she had come to see you. You let out a sigh as you leaned back into the couch.

“I talked to Unser earlier,” he continued, “the name of the guy he gave Jary and the same guy who my mother ID’d...wasn’t even in Charming that night. He spent that night in the drunk tank in Vegas.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at the details, “So what? They know something about that night then? About who really attacked me?”

Jax sighed, running his hand over his face as he leaned his head back on the couch to look up at the ceiling. Tears had welled up in his eyes as he let one fall, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You were quick to pull Jax into your embrace,” you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault.”

You held Jax that night in bed as he kept whispering apologies, you giving constant reassurance that he didn’t do anything. You had been feeling off all day. Your meds didn’t seem like they were working and your head had been pounding all day along with your ribs throbbing all morning.

“(y/n), are you okay?” Brooke asked, walking over to you at the sink. You nodded your head, looking down at Abel’s cup you had been washing. There was just a weird feeling in your stomach the entire time you were doing the dishes but you didn’t know what.

“Yeah, you’re looking a little pale, sweetheart,” Wendy said, “I can call Jax if you need me to.”

You shook your head, turning away from the sink, drying your hands off with a towel, “I think I need to lie down. My meds aren’t working right now.”

Wendy nodded her head as she helped you to your room, “I’ll call the school and tell them I’ll get Abel and Cassie. Let them know you’re not feeling okay.”

You nodded, pulling the covers up as you laid down.

“Just yell if you need anything.” Wendy gave you a smile, turning to leave the room

“Wendy?”

She stopped in the doorway, turning to look at you over her shoulder, “Thank you. For helping with Jax and the boys.”

She gave you a warm smile, “It’s the least I could do after you let me see my son.” She gave a thankful before making her way out of the room.

Everything Jax had worked so hard for, was going to shit. Turns out, Clay had dug SAMCRO into a deep hole with the Irish and Jax couldn’t get out as quickly as he had hoped.

Plus, you and Jax both found out Tara was filing to prove you and Jax were unfit parents to Abel, Cassie, Harry, and Thomas. You both had no idea what’s been going on with her. You, of course, hadn’t been around her since she attacked you, causing you to lose the baby.

You wanted Tara’s head on a platter for taking your children. Tara had been trying to tear SAMCRO apart since day one. Ever since high school when her and Jax were together; she wanted him to leave SAMCRO. She wanted him to leave the club and Charming with her after high school but SAMCRO was his legacy.

Since Tara got arrested, she had it out for everyone in the club. She wanted it to burn. She had contacted Lowen about getting put in Witpro with your children if she gave up SAMCRO to get her charges dropped.

Jad had Tara followed and went to meet with her to get your children back. He told you he was going to turn himself in for distributing the guns used in the school shooting. Which meant, you wouldn’t get to see your husband for a while. You had said your goodbyes before he went to see Tara, the boys had your children so you and Jax could have a moment before he got arrested, not wanting your kids to see it happen.

Oh, how you should have gone to the ice cream shop instead.

You were cleaning up the kitchen, knowing after Jax was gone, you wouldn’t have any energy to clean the house. The front door had opened and you placed the towel on the counter, turning to see...Tara.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked, leaning against the counter as Tara stood in the doorway, “Jax said I need to be here to sign the paperwork with the DA.”

You nodded your head, turning back to the sink.

“I never meant to hurt you or Jax.”

You cut Tara off with a dry laugh, “Seriously? Then what do you call taking my children, filing for custody, and giving up the club? Oh! And attacking me, causing me to lose my child?”

Angry tears welled up in your eyes as you turned to face her again. She almost looked...remorseful?

“I’ve lost everything because of SAMCRO. My job, my life. I have nothing because of that damn club!”

“We never asked for your help!” you exclaimed, irritated at the woman, “You decided to talk to Otto on your own! We never said anything to you about talking to him! What you did, you decided to do on your own! It’s all on you!”

Tara sighed, running her hands over her face, “I just...I just thought…”

“Thought what? If you did this one thing, Jax would want you again? Newsflash, Tara! He doesn’t want you anymore! He’s MY husband! The father of MY children! He stopped being yours the day you left Charming!”

You were both crying at this point; Tara over hearing the harsh truth and you over the frustration Tara had caused over the last few years.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, taking a deep breath as you shook your head, “I can’t deal with this right now. Jax is gonna be here soon and I’d rather not spend the last few moments with him all depressed. Just...help yourself to whatever. I need to clean up.”

Making your way down the hallway, you stopped at each of your children’s rooms, wanting more than anything to be with your family before Jax goes away. But, you and Jax didn’t want them to see him getting arrested.

You had it all arranged with the club. Chibs was going to step up and take over for the club with Tig as VP and Happy would remain SGT At Arms. They would help you with whatever you needed.

Making your way to the bathroom, you heard Tara rustling about in the kitchen. Looking over at yourself in the mirror, you cringed; your eyes were red and puffy and your face was pale and blotchy. Splashing your face with cold water, you dried it off with a towel.

A crash came from the kitchen, causing you to furrow your eyebrows as you walked through the hallway. Your eyes widened when you saw Tara and Gemma fighting with each other.

“What the fuck!” You exclaimed, rushing over to grab Gemma off of Tara, except what you didn’t see was the iron in her hand.

Gemma swung her hand back, hitting you in the ribs with it, causing you to let out a yelp of pain. You stumbled back,one hand holding onto the counter for support with the other holding your side.

Neither of the two seemed to notice as they kept fighting. You took a deep breath, breathing through the pain.

You moved towards them, grabbing onto Gemma’s arm, causing her to turn and hit you across the head with the iron; immediately dropping to the floor.

Gemma dropped the iron as realization of what she had done flashed across her face, “oh my god!”

“What did you do!” Tara cried as Gemma looked back at her, “This is your fault!”

“You hit her!” Tara exclaimed, turning to face the clock on the counter. Jax would be home any minute but Tara needed to make sure he got here sooner. She glanced at the phone on the counter, lunging for it as Gemma moved with her, grabbing onto the back of her head, holding her head down in the water filled sink. Tara blindly reached around for something to defend herself with.

Gemma reached for the knife Tara had almost grabbed and plunged into the back of her head. Once. Twice. Three times before she stopped struggling and the sink turned red from the blood rushing out of the wounds on her head.

Leaving the knife in her head, Gemma backed away from the sink, realizing what she had done. Tara’s body had fallen onto the floor, across from (Y/N)’s body.

Gemma had fallen onto the floor as she began to sob.

You sat up with a gasp, sweat on your forehead. You looked around your room in a panic, realizing where you were.

“(Y/N)!” Brooke exclaimed, rushing into the room, “are you okay?”

You shook your head, clenching the sheets between your fingers as Brooke tried to help you calm your breathing, “Do you need me to call Gemma?”

Your eyes widened in a panic at hearing her name, shaking your head frantically, “No. Don’t!”

Brooke furrowed her eyebrows but nodded her head, “I’ll call Jax, okay?”

By the time Jax showed up, you were sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with Thomas on your lap as Harry sat on the floor in front of you, playing with his toys.

Jax had walked over to Brooke as he shrugged off his kutte, “what happened?”

Brooke shrugged, “I went to get diapers out of Thomas and Harry’s room and I looked into your guys’ room and she was up, sweating, looking all freaked out. I offered to call Gemma but she got even more freaked out so I called you.”

Jax nodded as he walked over to you, leaning down to ruffle Harry’s hair as he sat next to you on the couch. Thomas let out a squeal at the sight of his father; Jax smiling at his youngest, “Hey buddy.”

Jax placed his hand on top of yours, causing you to turn your head to look at him,”what happened?”

You took a deep breath, giving his hand a squeeze, “I went to lay down because my head was killing me. I fell asleep and...I remember what happened that night.”

Jax looked at you in shock, clearly taken back by your words, “what?”

“My head had been throbbing all day and so had my ribs and now I know why,” you explained, “Tara came over and we argued about everything she did after she got out of jail. Taking the kids, filing for custody, going to Lowen about you guys.”

“She said SAMCRO ruined her life after she went to jail,” you continued, “I told her that you guys never asked her to talk to Otto . She thought if she did it, you would want her back. So, I told her you were my husband, the father of my children. That she lost you the day she left Charming.”

“What happened after that?” Jax asked. You took a deep breath, “I went to clean up in the bathroom and I heard a crash so I went to look. Gemma and Tara were fighting in the kitchen.”

“I went to pull them apart and Gemma hit me in the ribs with the iron. I don’t think she realized what she did because they kept going. I went to pull them apart and that’s when Gemma turned and hit me across the head with it. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in the hospital as a person of interest in Tara’s murder. Tara was still alive when Gemma hit me.”

Jax had tears in his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling, “Jesus christ!”

Brooke walked into the living room and gave you a weak smile as she had tears in her eyes, “I’m gonna put the boys down so you two can talk.”

You both thanked her as you turned to face Jax. You knew he was torn on what he needed to do. Jax was a momma’s boy. Gemma helped him through everything. But, Gemma almost killed you and most likely killed Tara. She let Jax believe the Chinese hurt you and killed Tara. Everything that had happened was her fault.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You asked in a quiet voice. Jax turned to face you, giving you a small smile, eyes roaming over your face, “Just...how fucked up our lives have gotten these last few years. All the pain this club has brought you; Clay almost killing you, losing Opie, Abel getting taken, and everything with Tara. I never wanted any of that for you.”

You shushed Jax as you grabbed his hands in yours, “ Stop. I knew what your life was like. I grew up around the club, Jackson. I know what comes with being your old lady. Everything that happened, it happened for a reason. Yes, it crushed me, losing our baby. But we have four wonderful children.”

“And what happened with Clay? He thought I was going to tell you about the letters. And I was. I planned on telling you when we were gone that weekend. Give you a club-free weekend to decide what you were gonna do,” you continued, “Opie checked out of the club the day he buried his wife. He knew that if you died, Clay would have taken the club back and made it worse. Ope knew that you were the savior of SAMCRO. He made that decision for you.”

Jax didn’t know how you were able to find explanations for everything that’s happened. He had believed that everything that happened to you was because of every bad thing he had done.

He thought you were too good for him. Jax didn’t think he deserved anything good because he wasn’t a good person. He’s lied, cheated, killed. And you? You were there to pull him out before he went too deep into his thoughts.

“I don’t know what to do, babe.” Jax sighed, causing you to give his hand a squeeze, “There’s one person you can talk to.”

Jax looked at you in confusion, “who?”

“Juice,” You responded, “you said that he and your mother gave a name to Jarry about that night. So he has to know something.”

Jax nodded his head, tugging you into his embrace, placing a kiss on your forehead as you cuddled into his chest; both of you not planning on moving for a while.

#Jax Teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller imagines #soa #soa imagines #sons of anarchy imagines #Charlie Hunnam #jax teller x reader #jax teller fanfiction

179 notes · View notes

frombeyondtheblackhole · 3 years ago

Text

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 7

[I knew that this was going to happen one of these days XP I posted this on the wrong blog at first. XP ok, now it is fixed]

Grian sored through the sky, far to his right the sun sat on the horizon glowing across the water, as he followed the coast. As soon as the day was reset he had gone to his base and shoved a couple of things in a shulker box before heading off to X’s base.

It wasn’t long before the purple top of the portal tower came into view. Grian circled down and skipped to a stop in front of X’s house. Ok, so maybe he was a bit early. Xsiuma was nowhere in sight.

Grian hesitated then knocked on the front door. A couple minutes and X came to the door, he was wearing a t-shirt and sweats, and yawned, running a hand through rumpled hair.

“You're punctual,” X chuckled, “Come on in,” he moved aside to let Grian enter, “I was just getting a morning nap to keep the phantoms off. Spent too many all nighters already trying to fix this,” He shrugged, closing the door behind Grian and moving over to some barrels set against the wall and rummaging around inside.

“Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you. I can come back later if you would rather do this then.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Want some coffee?” He asked, pulling speed, regen and fire res pots from the barrel and setting them down on an empty furnace top.

“Sure” Grian shrugged looking around. The interior was sparsely decorated, there was an oak wood floor and exposed roof rafters overhead. Chests and barrels lined one of the longer walls with a crafting table and furnace nearby. There was a bed shoved into a back corner. But that was it as far as furniture went.

X got two mugs out of a chest and started mixing the potions “Sorry about the poor excuse for an interior. To be honest I hadn’t done anything before George showed up and I had to throw something together quickly for him. Do you take speed one or two in your coffee?” He added.

“Juse one, and don’t worry about the interior, did you see the inside of my base last season,” Grian laughed.

“True,” X shrugged, stirring a little fire res into the coffee to heat it up before handing Grian his mug.

Grian held the mug up to his nose and took a deep inhale, letting out a long sigh of contentment. “Gotta love that smell,”

X closed his eyes and took a long draught before opening them again looking at Grian. Despite the tiredness still hovering behind his eyes he was back in business mode. “Alright, we can go ahead and get started. I really should do something about a table and chairs though.” He added as he started to look around for some supplies.

“Don’t worry about it,” Grian assured, “We can sit outside on the steps, it’s a beautiful morning. Besides, we'll probably want some space to work. Admin stuff might not take up much space but Watcher magic works a little differently.”

“Oh sure, Just let me get my shoes on,” X said. He summoned a pair of boots and the rest of his armor from his inventory and hurriedly started to put them on. Grian wordlessly took X’s coffee mug from him so he could use his hands without spilling on himself and then went out to sit on the steps and wait for X.

He took a sip of his coffee. The sunrise was almost over but the view was still beautiful. Grian remembered X had mentioned he was planning on building a massive statue that would fill up the sky.

X came out to join him, now dressed in his full suit of pink armor, and sat down on the step beside him taking his mug back as Grian handed it to him. His visor was up and he took another sip of his coffee before speaking “So what did you have in mind? You said you wanted to try some things. I’ve done about everything I could think of on my own.

“Yeah, first I just wanted you to give me admin permissions to leave, like you would whitelist someone. From what they were saying it sounded like their admin could give people permission to leave if he wanted to.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan, tell me when you're ready,” X said, pulling up his HUD and setting his mug aside on the step beside him.

Grian also set his mug down and stood up “Alright- wait, did you ever actually get around to whitelisting me? I mean, it’s not like I was exactly invited in the first place. This might not work if I’m not whitelisted properly.”

“Yeah,” X nodded “I whitelisted you when we did the last server reset. As far as I can tell your connection to the server is stable.”

“Alright then, X, fire away,” Grian said, stretching.

X typed in the command and then looked back at Grian when finished “It’s done.”

“Alright, I’ll let you know how this goes,” Grian said, rubbing his hands together, soft purple sparks flying as his eyes start to glow. With a sweep of his arm he ripped a gash in reality, edged with purple void, and passed through.

Grian stands in the void where the server dwells, purple currents and mist swirl and push around him. It feels cold against his skin. He shivers. He never liked lingering in the void, it was too open, too vulnerable. Grian flaps his wings and lifts off, the mist billowing around him. He feels no resistance as he leaves the Hermitcraft Server’s domain. It seems like X’s permissions worked.

Grian turns his attention to the Dream SMP Server, he Immediately feels the mist grow thick and warm, clawing at him as he fights to stay airborne. A current knocks him askew and he flaps his wings frantically to regain control.

Slam!

He runs full force into a barrier. Stunned, he starts falling. Falling forever. Grian thinks of Hermitcraft and he can feel the soft mist of the server welcome him. He struggles to twist himself around, ripping an exit in the air below him as he falls.

Grian came tumbling through into the light and Xisuma jumped up from the steps. “Grian! What happened? Oh gods you're bleeding!”

Grian shakily picked himself up, his head throbbing. He touched his hand to his nose and it came away red. “Oh, so I am,” He muttered. “Ow,” He added as his eyes tried to adjust to the bright light of day. Was it this bright when he left? “I just-”

“Sit, sit down, you don’t look so good,” Xisuma insisted, helping Grian sit back on the step.

Grian didn’t protest “Oof, that was even worse than the first time I tried to get into that server. It’s really locked itself off”

“But what happened?”

“Um... for lack of a better explanation, I flew straight into a wall. When I am in the void I can usually move between server’s just by thinking about them. But the Dream SMP is the only server that is Watcher proof. It basically put up a fight and refused to let me in.” Grian explained.

“Hum,” X muttered rubbing the chin of his helmet as he took in the information.

“I’ve still got a couple more things we can try though. We can try and simulate the server reset and if that doesn't work, I might be able to make a special portal to-”

“Oh no you don’t, you’re done for today,” X interrupted “We need to get you checked out and make sure you don’t have a concussion,”

“I’m fine,” Grain protested, standing up and trying to force himself to focus... ok so maybe he had a concussion.

[Notes: Ok, so I wasn’t planning on giving Grian a concussion but sometimes these things just happen. It’ll make things interesting. Hope you all enjoyed this.]

#dsmp #dream smp #hermitcraft #dsmp au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #hc x dsmp au #hermitcraft dsmp swap au #grian #watcher grian #xisuma

122 notes · View notes

jinx-jade · 4 years ago

Text

For better or worst. Who can tell?

When you're having a mini break down and decide to project onto one of your fan fic characters, cause you want to have a caring family.

This is the result.

..............................................

"Boo!" Dick called as he jumped out of his hiding spot and towards the newest addition to the Wayne clan.

The bluenette had been peaceful walking down the hall when Dick had spotted her, an idea for a fun prank, playing out in his head.

It was a simple, good nature joke, so to say that he hadn't been expecting her reaction would be an understatement.

Marinette had flinched away from Dick as if he had been about to attack her.

Her arms naturally came up to cover her face as she curled her shoulders inwards making her already small figure impossibly smaller.

Her jaw was clenched shut in a way that seemed almost painful, with her eyes screwed shut.

"Hey, it's just me. I didn't mean to scare you that much." Dick said in an apologetic tone of voice.

His voice seemed to snap Marinette out of her head.

She opened her eyes, revealing the thin ring of blue, her eyes being dialed with fear in a way he had only seen from fear toxin victims.

That was to say the least, concerning.

He will be mentioning that to the rest of their family.

Taking another look at his new little sister he noticed that her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, but after a single tear rolled down from each eye the gloss of them disappeared.

As if she had flipped a switch and turned her tears off.

No tears.

No glassy eyes.

The tear streaks and slight puff of her lower eyelids being the only evidence of the shed tears.

_____________

"You okay?" She heard Dick ask after what was probably just a few beats of silence.

She tried to answer.

She did.

But she could feel the strain on her throat and knew what it meant.

Marinette offered a smile even though it probably looked forced and fake.

"Fine." Marinette croaked out as she quickly walked away and back to her room, feeling her throat tighten.

It was fine.

It's what usually happened.

It will just hurt to speak for a few days, not a big deal.

She can speak during this time.

It just takes a lot of effort, and kinda hurts to do so.

Once she was safe inside her room, Marinette locked her bedroom door before walking into her closet, curling up into the corner behind all of her low-hanging clothing.

Marinette liked the small spaces when she felt like this.

It was comfortable and made her feel safe.

It didn't take long for her to doze off, fresh waves of exhaustion falling over the bluenette.

____________

"Master Richard, please retrieve Miss Marinette for breakfast," Alfred instructed as he set the dishes on the table.

"Sure thing, Alfred." Dick cheered as he got up to retrieve the youngest of the Wayne clan.

"Oh, and Master Richard? Make sure to apologize for yesterday's scare." Alfred called out, causing Dick to wince a little as he left the dining hall.

_____________

"Uhhh… Guys!" Dick called.

All the Waynes present got up to investigate, only to see Dick looking a little panicky standing at the top of the stairs.

"She's not in her room," Dick informed them, causing panic amongst the bat clan.

They went to investigate for themselves only to find that Dick's early claim was true.

Her bed was still made.

The window was open.

No Marinette insight.

The bats quickly got to work looking around the manor, both the inside of the building and the manor grounds, hoping she hadn't gotten very far with how small she is.

__________

The first thing Marinette noticed when she woke up was the tightness of her throat.

It felt as if her airways could be crushed with how tight her throat is.

It is incredibly uncomfortable as she rubbed at her neck in a feudal attempt to get the pain to go away.

Marinette let out what could only be described as a whimper as she continued to almost claw at her throat.

___________

"You sure we've looked everywhere?" Tim questions.

Bruce was about to answer when a noise that sounded a lot like a whimper or held back sob, caught their attention.

The sound was coming from Marinette's walk-in closet that had its door slightly cracked open.

"No checked closet," Cass informs them, stating the obvious.

Bruce let out a sigh before opening the closet door all the way and looking inside.

At first glance, there was no one there, but if you look again, small movements are coming from behind the clothes.

Bruce pushed the clothing hangers to either side of the movement revealing his youngest child, curled up and scratching at her throat in frustration and pain. Her breath was uneven as if she was in the middle of a panic attack.

Unsure what to do, Bruce simply sat down, gently moving Marinette to be seated in his lap as he moved her hands away from her throat, placing them against her chest and holding them there.

With her movement restricted and the feeling of emotional exhaustion crash over her, Marinette did the, to her at this moment in time, logical thing to do and promptly fell back asleep.

The Waynes watched and waited for her breathing to completely evened out before any of them dared to speak.

"Anyone else concerned about what the fuck just happened?" Jason questioned.

"That was in no way normal," Damian stated, a hint of concern and curiosity in his voice.

"Marinette's medical records don't say anything about being known to have panic attacks or anxiety attacks," Tim informs them a bit confused.

"Nevermind, her school nurse back in middle school had apparently, recommended for Marinette to see a therapist for a psychological evaluation, claiming that, and I quote, 'Miss Dupain-cheng seems to be experiencing symptoms of social anxiety, anxiety attacks, and panic attacks, oftentimes ending up in my office.' end quote." Tim read off his phone.

"We're missing something," Dick stated, furrowing his brows in thought.

Bruce let out a sigh as he carefully got up, holding his youngest child securely in his arms.

He gently placed Marinette on her bed, tucking her under the covers.

"We'll look into that at a later date," Bruce informed them.

The other bats gave their nods of agreement.

_____________

Alfred brought breakfast up to Marinette's room, seeing as the Waynes didn't return to the dining hall.

He was pleasantly surprised when he entered and saw his grandchildren talking calmly amongst themselves.

Despite Marinette having only been in the manor for a little less than three weeks, she has already made a big difference in their lives.

That was easy to tell.

Whether that was for better or worse.

Who could tell?

#maribat #adopted marinette

179 notes · View notes

hoe-imaginess · 4 years ago

Text

vanilla | dabi

very alpha!Dabi x fem omega!Reader

summary: Dabi isn’t aware that the LoV has an omega up for grabs, not until he accidentally comes across you in heat.

word count: 11.7k

contains: dub-con elements, scent kink, humiliation, masturbation, hella dirty talk, mentions of blood/burns, Dabi being an all around bastard

a/n: commissioned by K to share part of my ABO fic. Most ABO stuff makes me squeamish so I leave out token tropes (aka knots) another private fic that I didn’t plan on posting so it’s kinda uhhhhh bad lmao. will possibly post more but idk.

DON'T let the title mislead you ok Dabi is anything but vanilla

⤰

When he found the safehouse, Dabi knocked at the front entrance.

For a long time there was no response, and he tried again, louder this time and with more exasperation.

“Coming,” he heard a shout finally, muffled across the steel door.

Dabi rubbed his eyes to put some pressure behind them, in hopes it might too take that same pressure away from the sting in his nose.

Some heady omega in the area was in heat, and a bad one; the entire neighborhood reeked of the tantalizing aroma.

He groaned, jaw tensing, and with practiced composure put the fire down in his body. He had enough of it running under his skin every second of the day in the form of his quirk. He didn’t need any more. But it was getting worse the longer he waited there with that smell tiding in the air.

He didn’t even know why he was there, doing such a chore, in the first place.

Maybe it was because this League of Villains business was a promising crusade; he’d heard good things and seen for himself some profit in the affiliation, even despite how profusely he disliked the weird hand-guy, or how awkward the black fog in a suit could be.

The other recruit, Toga—who he found as equally disagreeable as the rest—had all but blindsided him that evening as he exited the dainty bar which they called headquarters.

Could you do me a favor, Dabi? she’d entreated with an attempt at innocent, girl-like charm: a tactic which, as it usually did, failed. The manic grin on her face had only made him want to be away from her company all the sooner.

No, he’d said, and pushed past her.

But she’d skipped after him, steadfast.

Tomura had asked her to run an errand in one of the more dangerous parts of the city, she’d said, but she wasn’t sure what to do. She was just a girl, after all. Couldn’t Dabi do her this one favor and take the responsibility off her hands? She was too nervous to take a trip like that, and so late in the night.

Bullshit, he’d said, but instead of protesting in defense of herself, she’d just giggled like a lunatic, dropping her pretense.

Still, when she said it was a delivery which needed to be made to you, the only member of the League he had yet to officially meet, curiosity pinched him.

Indifferent as he was to comradery, he was undeniably interested in unearthing the particulars of this would-be villainous syndicate, which included being at least somewhat familiar with his allies. He knew you had been an original member even before he and the psycho schoolgirl came into the fold; but little else.

You needed a delivery to be made to one of the League’s safehouses? Well, maybe he could oblige, if only to snoop around. Shigaraki was particularly fastidious with the information he willfully shared, and Dabi would take any opportunity to filch information under the boss’s nose in stride.

After all, if Toga, a new—and undoubtedly incompetent—recruit was being tasked with these deliveries, why not Dabi? Why not Kurogiri, who could make the shipment with ease given his quirk?

What was going on behind the scenes that Dabi wasn’t seeing?

Underwhelming as his first task as a newcomer would be, he saw it as an opportunity. He could be a good and useful asset to the League just for the night, he’d decided, when he told Toga he would do it. He was headed to that side of town anyways, he’d said.

So there he found himself, his foot tapping impatiently on the ground as he waited outside the safehouse.

That goddamn scent that wafted around the building... Why did he feel as though he’d smelled it before? And why did it smell so… sickeningly sweet?

He tried to distract himself by musing over what might have solicited these late-night deliveries, for example: what was in this suitcase he was meant to give you.

Toga had handed it to him with such a twisted, giddy smile on her face that he was half-convinced it was a bomb ready to blow and scatter him into pieces for her sick delight. Once he’d found it locked, he’d given up on guessing the contents after he shook the thing and the rattling inside gave no indication of the secrets it held.

More distraction, he entreated himself.

He thought of the itch of his staples, the uncomfortable tingle on his ridged skin when the air brought heavy wind against it. He thought of anything that might take away from the smell of raw heat in the area, but it was an instinctual pull that left him fidgeting where he stood.

He was about ready to leave the suitcase at the door and hit the road, when there was a commotion from across the threshold.

The aroma that burst from the opening door completely smothered him, made every bone in his body feel like smoldering steel; made lightning shoot down his veins and a low breath catch in his lungs.

You blanked when you saw him there, your pupils blowing wide with shock, then, if he read it correctly, fear.

He sniffed hard, his body scrambling for a source to the scent that begged his alpha inclinations to go wild. The inhalation sent pinpricks of warmth down to his feet. The smell was overwhelming now, almost dizzying.

And it was coming from you.

“Fuck,” he spat, and covered his nose with his arm, backing away from the door.

You slammed it shut, your heart racing.

“What are you doing here?!” you demanded.

“Came to give you this goddamn shit,” he snapped, throwing the suitcase at the door. It landed with a violent thud. His limbs jerked with frayed nerves, like the sun was heating his skin and crawling down to his center. “Are you an idiot!? You know I’m an—”

“I do that’s why I wanted Toga to bring it—”

“She had me do it,” he shouted, and backed himself against the opposite alley wall, a hand clenching and unclenching against his clothed thigh.

Goddamn your smell. Goddamn it. Like vanilla. Horribly sweet. So fucking potent.

He threw his head back against the wall, ignoring the throbbing pain it kneaded into his skull, and breathed hard.

He wanted to bust down the door. His legs twitched at the impulse; fingers tensed and flames licked their tips.

It would be easy. Kick it down. Burn it down. Burn the whole goddamn place down if need be. He wanted to force his way in, wanted to claw at your clothes and shove himself inside you—

Instead he took another deep breath, and loosed it on a shaky sigh.

He’d handled omega heats before, why was he like this now? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was too much.

“You need to leave,” you muttered from the other side of the door, so resolute and aggrieved that he would have never guessed you were keeled over on the floor, legs shut tight and body shivering. His alpha smell was nauseating you; it was strong and dominating and demanding that you open yourself to him. “Now.”

“Yeah I’m goin',” he snapped angrily, storming off down the alley once his legs restored their loyalty to his head, and not what was between his legs. “Fuck."

⤰

Dabi stroked himself hard and fast and rough, nose pressed into his sleeve, breathing in the sweet tang of vanilla that lingered between the fibers.

He growled out his next breath, and it sputtered off into a wobbly sigh as he closed his eyes and thought of you: those perfect tits he was sure you were hiding under your clothes; your ass, which would look like nice, he knew, with his handprints burned onto the skin; and then your cunt—fuck, he could almost imagine how tight it was, how hotly it would grip him and milk every last fucking drop of his cum—the mere vision of it pink and twitching and spread out for him was like an explosive punch to his gut.

He came in thick, hot spurts, some rolling over his knuckles as he quickly twisted his fist over the cockhead, others staining the brick wall in front of him with ropey, white streaks.

“Fuck,” he panted, chest heaving, limbs trembling. A hand shot to the wall and braced himself there for balance, kept him upright while his quivering knees threatened to fail him.

When was the last time he’d even had to rub one out like this? In a dirty fucking alley? And least of all because of some stupid omega?

Goddamn you, he thought.

⤰

“Dabi!” Toga squealed when he returned to the bar later in the morning. She sniffed the air, breathed in his smokey scent, and flashed a hungry smile, tongue dipping out to wet her eager lips. “You smell so strong. Are you worked up?” Then her eyes were bright and thrilled. “Oh? Oh?! Did you see _____-chan? Did you?"

“Yeah, you crazy idiot.” Dabi slammed the bar door shut behind him. "You just forget to mention that she was in heat?”

Shigaraki, who’d been previously uninterested in the debacle, now looked up from his game. “What?”

Toga giggled. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Did you smell her? Oh, it’s so nice, isn’t it?” The girl’s eyes twitched and rolled back loftily in ravenous remembrance. “_____-chan smells so sweet. So sweet—”

“You caught her in heat?” Shigaraki asked, accusative but curious. “Are you stupid?"

Scowling, Dabi jerked a thumb at Toga. “Dipshit over here had me take some stuff over to that safehouse you got. I didn’t fuckin’ know."

“You dumb girl,” Shigaraki snapped, turning on her now. “Are you brain dead? Or do you really not get why omegas hide from alphas during heats? Why do you think we have a beta like you go do deliveries now?”

“I know what happens!” she contended. “I thought she could use some company. She smells so delicious. Was it fun, Dabi? Was it fun and romantic and—”

“Try infuriating,” Dabi spat, then set his anger on Shigaraki. “You’re no better. Either of you.” He nodded his head at Kurogiri behind the bar. “Would’ve been nice to know you had an unmated omega in your group.”

“Thought you’d noticed by now,” Shigaraki replied, now somewhat subdued, and tending to his game again. “What, your nose doesn’t work?”

“It works fuckin’ fine. Just didn’t realize that scent you got around here all the time was hers.”

In recollection, he put his sleeve over his nose. The sweet smell had vanished, but the memory of it still haunted his senses, made every nerve in his body flutter with excitement. It was driving him fucking insane.

“How the hell do you two work with an omega?” Dabi asked. “That gets heats like that, no less.”

“We’re not animals,” the leader replied. “Some of us can handle it.”

“My ass. Guessin’ that’s the reason she’s never around, huh? You don’t seem very disciplined. Bet you catch one whiff of that slick and go completely ape shit.”

Shigaraki scowled, affronted.

“It was our mistake not warning you,” Kurogiri conciliated the blame, clearly nervous, and possibly displeased by the crass talk. “We were under the impression that you knew. We’ve taken steps to lessen the risk in our years together. We are somewhat… desensitized.”

“Good for you,” Dabi muttered. “I ain’t. A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“Now you know,” Shigaraki said, scratching peevishly at his neck. “Stop complaining. You’ll get used to it.”

Dabi tsked. “Yeah, you better hope I do.” Then he stalked off.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Shigaraki asked Toga once the other alpha had departed.

Toga keened happily, still enamored with Dabi’s untamed scent. Alphas were so delicious when worked up.

“I forgot,” she insisted dreamily. “Honest, I did.”

“That was a very risky mistake,” Kurogiri was saying, black vapors flitting nervously about his frame. “As a beta, you may not be aware of the risks that both alphas and omegas face when it comes to positions of power–”

Toga pouted and whined, like a child whose gleeful imagination had been thwarted. “I don’t get it. I was just doing them both a favor. Alphas are supposed to take of omegas in heat, aren’t they? What’s the big deal?” She had a stupid smile on her face again, rapt with thoughts of desire. “It must be so nice as an alpha, getting to take any little omega you want… they’re so needy.”

“The big deal, you damn idiot,” Shigaraki started, “is that a guy like that is too selfish to put our objectives before his prick. There’s a reason we don’t mess with that heat and rutting crap here. Complicates things. Makes everyone go crazy. Like you.”

She tittered like a lunatic, proud of her indignity. “She smells so good, Tomura. It’s not fair. Not fair at all.”

⤰

After your heat, once you’d returned to the bar, you ignored Dabi to the best of your ability.

At first, he seemed content enough to reciprocate the caution. You both treaded carefully: any eye-contact made would be swiftly curtailed with averted gazes; you cleared a room whenever he entered, and vice versa, he acted as though you were invisible to him.

It would be fine, you’d told yourself. You’d dealt with the ugly dynamics your omega lifestyle wrought countless times. You could do it again. Dabi was a new recruit, after all. Promising—albeit coarse—according to Tomura. His contribution to the team far outweighed the plights of your personal struggles. You would be fine. It would be fine.

But those lofty self-reassurances were short-lived.

You were sitting in one of the bar’s empty rooms when he sought you out. You smelled him before he rounded the corner, and fear gripped you when the alpha bouquet invaded your senses. But then something else came to seek your submission: an instinctual calling on the wisps of his scent, bringing an anxious and conflicting nostalgia back to you.

God his smell had followed you for days: a smokey aroma, but something so fresh underneath it, like cold mint. You’d never been so enthralled by a scent before, never been so tempted to give in to carnal desire and offer yourself to a being nature had designated as your superior: an alpha.

He stood in the doorway of the room, just looking at you; you stared back, frozen, and made yourself small in hopes that you might avoid whatever confrontation was to come.

“Your heats always that stupidly strong?” he asked.

You blanched and took a deep breath to quell your unease. You wished to anything that the world would swallow you and take you away from what was undoubtedly going to be one of the worst, most uncomfortable confrontations of your life.

“Yes,” you said. “That’s why I have to go away.”

“Why? I mean, most omegas do it. Usually to work it out themselves, right? Bet that little delivery I made was a bunch of toys, wasn’t it?”

“No,” you said, feeling embarrassed by the mere speculation. “It was a suppressant. They don’t usually work on me... I’m trying to find the right one.”

The broad smirk that shifted his scarring tissue made you shift uncomfortably. “Suppressants are useless if your heat is too strong. That shit was bad. The smell is ridiculous. You clearly ain't doing somethin' right if it’s always that potent.”

You shivered at the mention of your scent. It was always what they mentioned—the alphas. They always raved about your scent: like sweet candy, some said. Most often, vanilla. The sniff of it on your very nose was nauseating after so long: an inescapable quality that put you in the crosshairs of nearly every alpha you’d met, made you frightfully easy prey to their predator.

“I’ve...” Shit, should you be sharing this with him? Normally you did, with most alphas you were acquainted with. Especially those you trusted. But you didn’t trust him. You barely knew him. “I’ve never... been rutted properly. So, they’re stronger. The heats.”

“Never been rutted through a heat?” he asked, scoffing. “Sounds miserable. You’re all backed up, aren’t ya? That’s why you struggle with your scent so much.”

You were quiet. You met his interrogation more confidently than you previously thought possible, given how successfully he’d intimidated you up until now. But your fear was draining away slowly, giving way to some sense of adeptness.

Memories of his scent had haunted your every bodily cell since the moment you’d first experienced it. Although facing it again now was overwhelming, you’d steeled yourself since then.

It would be okay, you reminded yourself. Conferring with allied alphas was only a necessary tack if you were going to keep the peace.

“I have, obviously,” you answered. “I’ve been rutted through a heat. But, it’s not the same if it’s not with… well—”

“An alpha?” he finished, and couldn’t help the surprise on his face. “You’ve never been with an alpha in your heat?”

You shook your head. And then there it was, the returning frailty so thick that it seized the room. Why were you so humiliated to speak your truths? They were truths, after all, under his harsh gaze or not.

“…I’ve never been with an alpha at all.”

He actually laughed. “Nah. You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Never even fooled around a bit?”

“No."

A wry, callous grin stretched his staples. He tilted his head and hummed curiously. “You afraid? Of alphas?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Omegas are normally dyin’ to get laid when they’re in heat. Especially when they’re surrounded by alphas they actually know, like you are. Would be one thing if you were locking yourself up to hide from strangers, but you’re not. Gross as that hand-guy is, he seems like he’d rut for ya."

“I just don’t... want it.”

“Nah. You’re scared. I can tell. Should’ve seen that look on your face the other day, damn near terrified—like I was gonna jump on you any second.”

You bristled with agitation, frustration invited back in full bloom now that your confidence was weakened. “Sorry if I don’t trust you,” you returned with grim sarcasm. “You’re not very… decent, to put it plainly.”

“Decent? Nah, I’m not. Alphas aren’t supposed to be. But that’s why you’re all nervous, right?”

“I don’t…” You shook your head, thoughts tripping over one another. “My quirk makes it difficult,” you admitted, and bit your tongue shortly afterwards.

”Your quirk?”

You swore it was his pheromones making you talk, clouding your judgment and wringing admissions from you. “Alphas and omegas dealing with ruts or heats… it compromises their quirks sometimes, I’m sure you know. Makes them uncontrollable and disorderly. I don’t want that to happen to me. Heats are bad enough on their own. Actually getting rutted through one…” You shrugged, vulnerable to be sharing your fears. “I don’t know. I heard it can go wrong. It would be too much.”

“Oh.” He snickered. “Afraid you’re gonna get too horny and flip out or something?”

Heat primed your cheeks in a blush. “No. I mean… In a way. But, thats not what I really meant–”

“So you just run away whenever you’re in heat? ‘Cause you don’t know how to handle it? That’s sad. Bet you wouldn’t be such a stuck up mess if you just let someone rut you through it, at least once. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Forget suppressants. Not just that,” he snickered, and smirked slyly, “it’s awfully unfair of you to be such a prude when you’ve got a bunch of alphas around."

You shivered, not simply noticing, but feeling his eyes pore over you. “They’re not interested.”

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but omegas are made for us to fuck and breed.”

“No,” you said, almost indignantly, “they aren’t.” To be reduced to something so primitive and incidental put anger in your veins. It was a sore, but inevitable topic you were unfortunate to suffer so often.

“Yeah. They are. Don’t know how that hand-creep hasn’t tried to jump your bones yet. I sure as shit would have, by now.”

Then, considering his words, he made a curious frown. “Unless you hide to keep away from that guy.” As he thought of these depraved illustrations in his head, put pieces of his own mused puzzle together, the grim smile returned. “Yeah. I can see that. Putting your own sanity on the line because you don’t wanna provoke your boss. You’d rather scurry off than deal with that guy. You really are scared of alphas, huh?”

“No,” you spat. “Tomura is…“ God, you hated this, hated how his smell was driving you crazy, making you pliant. “Tomura doesn’t need distractions. He’s not very… well-equipped to handle these sort of things.”

You wouldn’t mention how the visual of Tomura’s hands gripping you with alpha-driven need, unwittingly cursing your skin with his quirk, obliging your flesh to break away under his clutches and slowly split you open was a terror that kept you awake some nights.

“I stay out of the way for both our sakes,” you said, shaking the fearsome thoughts away. “Everything works out fine the way it is. We want it this way. We know how to focus on our mission and that only."

He shrugged, unconvinced. “Sure, gotta keep the peace or whatever. Don’t wanna turn the League into a rut fest. Puttin’ the greater good over their alpha needs, over what’s in their pants."

You frowned at him, displeased with the vulgarity.

He snickered to see it. “Commendable of them and all that. But…” He pushed from the wall he’d leaned against and came towards you. You inched away, heart beating fast at the sudden approach. “I’m a little more radical about this stuff, I guess you could say. I think you’d be much more useful if you weren’t so pent up.”

When he crouched down in front of you, you backed into the wall that you sat against, but there was no room for escape. He wasn’t smiling now, only perusing you with expressionless intensity. You tried to suppress a shiver when his eyes rolled down your body.

“Never really been all that concerned with this sort of stuff, not gonna lie. I’ll rut when I need to. Otherwise shit starts getting complicated and I can’t think straight.” He shrugged. “But in case you haven’t noticed, my body ain’t all that suited for frantic ruts. I try to take it easy, if possible. But… I always thought it was a little dumb that we’re engineered to think with what’s between our legs, most of the time.”

And so saying, his warm had slid between your partially opened thighs, which shivered at his touch and clamped together quickly to deny him.

But he wasn’t deterred, and shoved against the resistance, slipping the invading hand under your skirt.

“Stop,” you demanded, breath automating into nervous pants. In sudden fear of being happened upon by the others, you glanced around feverishly, your feet shuffling on the ground to push you back against the wall.

“Stop, now.” Your hands were on his arm, trying to push him away. “Dabi,” you insisted, trying to sound firm. But it did little to deter him.

“See? Bet if you weren’t so damn skittish you’d be putting up a real fight.” His hand finally broke through the tight resistance of your thighs, and his fingers pressed against your underwear. They were damp to the touch.

He laughed, and stroked over the wetness with his knuckle, making you keen and try to pull away.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, looking down between your trembling thighs. “Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessin’ this is because of me?”

He took the wet fabric between his two fingers and rubbed together. “And what’d I do for you to get like this? You’re not even in heat. And I’ve barely got a scent on me right now. We’re just talking, ______. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

At the sound of your name coming from his mouth, gravelly and low, you shuddered, and put an arm over your mouth to keep in a stammering moan. But his other hand came and pulled the limb away.

“Please,” you stuttered out. “Stop.”

“Am I the first alpha who’s touched you like this?” he asked, ignoring your plea.

Your thighs tightened around him again, and one of your hands went to his collar, squeezing into it in meager resistance.

That too he ignored, and looked at you with plain impatience. “Am I?”

You whimpered and nodded, unable to form words when your lips were stuck harshly bitten between your teeth.

“Yeah, thought so.”

Then his thumb worked its cruel intentions and circled your clit. The pathetic gasp he received in turn made him chuckle.

“Nah. See, this isn’t supposed to happen.” His thumb pressed harder and your head knocked back against the wall. “I’ve seen some pretty slutty omegas, but this is plain stupid.”

“I’m—” You practically hiccuped through a whine, and squeezed your eyes shut, your quirk threatening to reveal itself, answering the calls of your panic and ready to defend against his assault. “I’m not a slut—”

He brushed up on your clit hard and you whimpered, defense all but surmounted.

“Okay, fine. You’re not a slut. You’re just damn sensitive because you’ve never given your body what it needs.” He grinned his wicked grin. “An alpha.”

You shook your head. “No—”

“Yes.”

You shook it vigorously now, and your hands came back to life, pushing at him. “No.”

“Yes, _____,” he breathed, laughing. “I thought you were supposed to be smart. Alpha, omega, whatever—those instincts make your brain all mushy if you don’t get it under control. You’ve got some dissonance going on in your head. You’re really letting yourself go because of it. You wanna be a good ally for your boss, but you can’t, because you’re too scared to—"

“I’m not,” you insisted, eyes wrenching themselves open to look at him. He was amused, depravedly amused, but still remarkably composed for how ruthlessly he was teasing you. “I just don’t want it–”

He snorted loudly, and you were sure the sound would echo and bring someone upon the spectacle. “You don’t want it? Seriously? Now you’re just in denial.”

His fingers coiled around your panties and shoved against your bare skin; your pussy was wet and warm to the touch.

“I can smell your slick, holy fuck,” he muttered. For the first time, though everything up until this point had been cruelly entertaining but not entirely stimulating, he felt his cock twitch, and his mouth water. He hummed. “Bet you taste like vanilla, too, don’t you?”

“St-stop,” you stuttered, face going hot with embarrassment, hiding it against your shoulder as if it would help mitigate the fluster.

He let go of the arm he’d been restraining, put a hand on your knee, and tried to push your legs open. He was surprised when met with resistance; you kept your thighs locked together like a vice, making it substantially more difficult to move his fingers on your clit the way he wanted.

He scoffed.

“Open your legs,” he demanded of you, and felt your body twitch at the command.

He looked at you, and was pleased to find you staring back, wide-eyed and jolted. His blue eyes narrowed autocratically.

He spoke his command slower, but with more authority, “Open them. Now."

And when you did, he let out a breathy laugh of satisfaction, and admired the mess of wetness between your thighs. “See? See how easy that was?”

One hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh—shit, the skin was practically begging for his teeth to sink in, to make you bleed, to mark you—while the occupied continued its ministrations, fingers jerking quickly over your pink clit.

"What if I were some enemy tryin’ to get some information out of you, huh? You’d probably spill everything about the League to another alpha the second he gave your pussy any attention. Shit,” he laughed, head cocking curiously as he played with the folds of your cunt, “I’m just teasin' you a little and you’re already dripping, for one. For two, following my every command like a good little whore.”

You shook your head, wordless in your denial. You thought you could taste blood in your mouth from your own lips, teeth digging in harshly to give your body any sensation to distract from the burgeoning pleasure. Your nerves were trampling over one another, all of them somehow alight with fire, but numb all the same.

“Imagine what I, or any other alpha, really, could get you to do with a cock inside you. Ever think of that? And if you were in heat?” He scoffed. “Forget it. You’re pretty much a liability at this point. Don’t know why the hell your boss keeps you around. It’s pathetic.”

Bracing both hands on his shoulders, you loosed a strangled moan of frustration, fingers biting into his clothes, pressing against the lean muscle beneath. He didn’t seem to care, too focused on the pink, twitching flesh now turning red from his fingers' abuse. He swiped his pointer and middle across your clit in a dizzying pace, until the tendons in his wrists burned and his knuckles ached. But your scent… fuck, the fucking scent—

He prided himself on his practiced fortitude against alpha instincts; his body, wracked by the toll of his quirk, was vulnerable as it was. Willpower was necessary to stave off the feral hunger that often made him forget his own fragility and indulge the fierceness of ruts and heats. It always ended with loose staples and bloody rivulets along his skin. Self-aware as he was of his own limitations, he so rarely let himself indulge his body’s desires.

But fuck if you weren’t testing him.

You were close, you knew, your body spasming and breath catching in every interval. You panicked, tried to fight it, but it was as though his fingers had caged your volition somewhere in the back of your mind, and instead propagated all senses to pleasure.

“Fucking tease,” he muttered under his breath, but you barely heard him above the frenzied din in your brain.

Just as you felt something in you stirring irrevocably, both his hands left you, and he stood to his feet.

You nearly toppled over, and spilt over yourself awkwardly to try and catch yourself on the ground. The wet slide between your thighs was horribly palpable, and horribly embarrassing.

You panted as you gathered yourself, looking up at him in flustered awe as you shut your thighs and protectively shoved your skirt back into place.

He was admiring his fingers, the wetness coating them, and when he noticed your gaze, waved them at you teasingly. “See this?”

So wet, you thought, humiliated, as a sticky strand started to spill from his finger. You shivered, your face sweltering and flushed.

“This is your body’s way of telling you that it’s beggin’ to be filled.”

You shuddered, and held yourself miserably, trying to fight the unsatisfied heat in your veins with calming breaths. “You’re horrible,” you whispered, your mouth dry.

“Nah. I’m being a nice guy. The only smart one around here, too, looks like.”

He licked at his fingers, a shudder going down his spine when he tasted the sweetness. It was unreal. “This is ridiculous. You wouldn’t have to worry so much about scurrying away from alphas if your smell wasn’t so strong. If you’re heat wasn’t so strong. And none of it would be, if you just did what you were made to do. You’re repressed. Backed up as hell—”

“I wasn’t made to do anything,” you argued, frustration returning.

“You can keep sayin’ it, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, honestly. Got everyone jumpin’ through hoops for you because you’re so damn sensitive. I ain’t gonna do that.”

You sat there in a heap, fidgeting uncomfortably and fighting for any sense of self-determination you could. He’d said his scent was scant, but you swore it was filling the room, pulping your thoughts and dizzying your nauseous head.

“Clearly you’ve been stuck with some pretty underwhelming alphas until now,” he said. “So I’m gonna do you a favor. Next time you’re in heat, find me, and I’ll do something about it.”

He wiped his dirtied fingers on his shirt, then left you there.

⤰

A month later, Dabi got a call.

“What?” he answered curtly, thinking it was Shigaraki from a burner number. The boss did that sometimes, despite there being little need for throwaways. It was theatrical and annoying.

“It’s me.”

After a pause of non-recognition, you sighed, “It’s ______.”

“Oh?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

In the alley, Dabi admired the burning body he’d just finished off, the corpse kindling his blue flames nicely as it crumbled to ash.

He laughed lowly. “Yeah. Been about a month, hasn’t it. You had some time to think sweetheart?”

From the other end, you bit your lip. “I have rules.”

Something seeped into his blood and swelled within him. Like a breeze carried from somewhere far off, he got a whiff of your sweet scent, just a ghost of it, and licked his lips.

“Seems a little over the top,” he said. “But I’m listening.”

There was a sound in the alley behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder.

You took a deep breath on the other end, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll be at a different place tonight. Another safehouse, down by the docks. The first rule is that when you get here, you have to—”

Dabi heard the cocking of a gun. The disdainful comrade of the dead, scorched man had the weapon raised and trained on him, spouting some threatening nonsense of vengeance. The flame-wielder huffed in annoyance.

“Can’t really talk right now,” he spoke into the receiver, his hands brightening with his quirk. “I’ll find the place. Better not get cold feet.”

“Dabi—”

But he hung up before you could say more.

⤰

You waited for the better half of the evening shot to pieces with doubt.

You’d gone over the situation a dozen times, and twice that number decided the uncontrollable confusions weren’t worth second-guessing; dictating right and wrong left you light-headed when your body was already a frenzied playground of sensation thanks to your heat.

You started to text him the address when midnight rolled around, just in case he’d gotten lost—then thought better of it. The uncertain doublet came again: You couldn’t do this. It was dangerous. You hadn’t witnessed Dabi’s brutality firsthand, but the hearsay was worrisome enough. He would break you. It would end horribly. Your quirk, or even his, would lash out—

Then the other half of the fretful analysis: Yes. You could do this. It was natural. It was true what he’d said, about you neglecting your body’s desires, and in turn leaving room only for self-sabotage. The thought of him drove you wild with uncertainty, but so did the notion of not doing this; your body was raging at the absence of touch. One which he was apparently willing to give.

Finally you called him, nerves scattered and patience thinned, deciding that whatever he had to say to you on the other line would determine whether or not you should carry on with your plans.

Almost as soon as you heard the ringing from the other line, so too did a chirpy noise come from right outside the safehouse door: a phone.

You blanched. Before you could make toward the door, the metal lever twisted with a creak and opened. He was there on the other side with his phone in hand, and lifted it teasingly when his eyes found you in the dim room.

“If you’re callin’ to give me directions, waste of time,” he said as he slunk inside. “I can smell you across the damn street.”

You shivered, smelling him, too: he radiated a warm scent, then that icy undertone which always perplexed you in the most enticing way.

He shut the door behind him, locked it, and inspected you. He huffed in amusement to see how nervous you were.

“You said you had some rules,” he started, coming towards you. Your heart started skipping. “Sounds like a lot of bullshit, so I wasn’t gonna remind you. But I guess if it’ll stop you from chickening out halfway…”

His hands were on you in an instant, at your sides, squeezing and kneading the flesh underneath your shirt. You froze. The dumbfounded look on your face had him smirking.

“Not that you’ll be able to once I get started,” he went on. “Or even want to. Probably gonna forget you even had rules once I stick it in you.”

The hands went down, gripped your ass, and brought your bodies together. You braced yourself against his forearms, stuttering when he wasted no time and pressed his face into your jaw, licking, kissing, teasing you with teeth.

Your eyes fluttered closed, mouth hanging open as he traveled down. At his touch, your mind slowed to blind submission. The excitement was stroking a fire in you that you hadn’t even known was there.

Fuck, it was too much. Already, too much.

“You gonna tell me?” he asked between kisses. "Or you already forgot?”

As he moved to your neck, he inhaled sharply through his nose. The sweet scent stirred a frenzy in his gut.

“Fuck.” The hands at your ass squeezed so hard that you gasped. “Goddamn girl,” he laughed breathily, grinding against you. “That shit’s good.”

“I—" You choked on your next words when he spread your thighs apart from behind, fingers curling under your skirt to feel for your panties. “The rules, I—”

“You better spit it out,” he warned, coming up to look at you, eyes fixed with hunger. “I’m not a patient guy. I’m really gonna pounce on you in a second if you don’t get on with it.”

It struck apprehension into you. You breathed out the words hurriedly, “Don’t mate me. Don’t give me a mating mark—”

He laughed in your face, making you blush, then went back to kissing at your neck.

“Didn’t plan on it. Don’t want a mate. Probably never will.” He kissed hard at your neck, breathed in your scent again with a hum. “Besides, even if I did, you’re not bad looking and I know your cunt’s gonna be nice and tight, but you’re not worth mating. You’re high-strung. It’s annoying.”

You bristled with anger, but his warmth was making every other sense dull to you. When his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder, you were wrangled back to focus.

“No marks,” you warned, just as his teeth sank in, and nudged away gently to dissuade him. “Don’t leave any. Kurogiri and Tomura can’t see–”

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he replied harshly, coming up to look at you. “Who cares? They were dumb enough to leave you unmated and practically dyin’ for a fuck, so forget them. I’m doing you a favor here, remember that. You can have some rules, but I’m doing whatever the hell I need to do.”

His fingers rubbed hard at your panties; they were wet to the touch. "Not like you’re gonna run out now. You’re fucking soaked.” With a pleased growl he went to your neck again, biting hard.

You squealed, but before he could start sucking at the skin, you reeled back and moved away from him. You pushed at his forehead with a hand, and he smacked it away.

“Then no,” you sighed out shakily once you’d gotten his attention. "We’re done here.”

You spoke it with such confidence that it actually earned you his consideration. He stared at you, half-impressed, but mostly, furious.

“If you can’t listen to me,” you muttered, braving his piercing eyes willingly, "then… then fuck off.”

He was scowling at you now, and without warning his fingers pinched your clit.

You gasped sharply and raggedly at the feeling, melting into his touch with weak legs. He had to hold you upright to prevent you from collapsing, and against your ear, he huffed angrily.

“That’s what I fucking thought, stupid slut.”

He shoved you down onto the mattress at your feet.

You were too dizzy to make a protest when he climbed over you, and had no voice on which to loose it when he ripped—literally ripped—your shirt apart and attacked your chest with harsh bites and licks. Your nipples got the worst of it: he went for them with a growl in his throat, claiming the peaks between his teeth, biting down so hard you squealed and kicked.

“You really don’t have a goddamn clue how this works, do you?” he was breathing out harshly. “What an alpha does to an omega?” He looked up at you. Your eyes were watery and trembling as they gawked down at him. “What I can do to you?”

His lips went down, and he shoved your skirt off of your legs, the panties going too. You had enough sense in you to shut your thighs, which made him scoff, and yank them apart painfully.

“Don’t you fuckin’ try it. This is mine right now. You and your little cunt, mine. Like it’s supposed to be.”

He knew even as the words came from his mouth like venom, that your scent, coupled with his long-unreleased pheromones, were pushing him to a point of brutality. He’d never been so prone to complete and utter dominance like this. And now looking between your thighs at the pink, swollen, shaven pussy twitching for him, he knew there was no chance you’d be getting any mercy.

“Look at this shit,” he muttered, dropping to his knees, and as a protest died on your lips, his own pressed against your wetness, breathing in your scent as he did, growling loud and wildly in his throat.

His hands went to your thighs and pulled, bringing you closer against him, ignoring the fingers in his hair that feebly tugged. A shaky whimper came on every one of your breaths, your mouth sputtering through frail pleas he didn’t understand and didn’t bother trying to.

He indulged one harsh, long, angry suck on your clit, and released with a wet smack. You cried, actually cried when he went back in and dug his tongue harshly against you.

“Dabi, Dabi—no, please–”

Your scent made him light-headed, made him forget for a split second where he was, made him forget the constant and residual pain from his quirk, the itch of his staples—made him forget it all.

You came on his tongue without warning, a loud screech dying in your throat as you arched off the mattress. He was too shocked to lick up the sweet cum that received him. His eyes shot open and he looked up at you; you were an absolute wreck: flushed, sweating, shaking, and seized with pleasure.

He tried to count in his head. How long had it been? A minute? Barely? Fucking ridiculous.

He sucked and sucked until you were writhing. He wanted to punish you, wanted you to see how fucking weak you were, how badly you needed this.

“Dabi—” you sobbed out, tears itching your eyes and rushing down your face.

He pulled off finally with a loud breath, smacking his lips, then went back down to lick up your pussy one more time to clean you with his tongue. You jerked and twisted miserably. Then he was climbing over you again, forcing you to face him.

“You see?” he panted. "See what I just did to you? See how fuckin’ quick you were to cum for me? That’s what you’ve been missing. You’re not in the position to be making demands or rules here, _____. This is what you deserve. This is what you need. You need an alpha, you need me, you need this—”

He took your hand and forced it to rub between his legs. You stuttered a pitiful breath when you felt the bulge there, so hot, so inhumanly hot, waiting for you. Under your touch it twitched, greedy to be inside you.

You shook your head, unable to keep your eyes open; the blinding pleasure made a transit to numbing warmth, and your lids were heavy with drowsiness.

Your lip trembled. “Please, I need a minute, please—"

“No. Fuck no.”

He shred his clothes quickly, pulling his jacket off, kicking his shoes off, clawing at his belt and throwing that off too—but getting no further than shoving his pants down his hips so his eager cock could spring free. He didn’t have the time for anything else. He didn’t have the fucking time.

“I was gonna go easy on you,” he muttered. "Just a little."

Manhandling you to a spread position beneath him, he was almost ready to shove into you—then he had an exhilarating idea, and flipped you over, slapping your ass hard and making you yell in surprise. He wanted to take you like this: dominating, and utterly primal.

He forced your hips up, ass out, pussy spreading for him. He took his cock, flicked the head mercilessly against your clit until you were keening. A firm hand on your hip prevented you from squirming away.

“Please,” you sobbed again, gasping, body trembling. The heat. The heat. It was too much. Your skin crawled with euphoric pinpricks of fire. You needed it. You needed it. “Please, Dabi—”

“Please what?” he snapped, fire in his veins, vanilla flooding his head. “There’s no way in hell you want me to stop, so you’re beggin’ me for more. Use your words then. Say it.”

Your shook your head, mouth dry and gaping. “I can’t—”

He smacked your ass again and you jolted, unable to stop from curling into yourself as you orgasmed; the scent of your slick invaded his nose and he realized what you’d done. A dangerous, slow, ragged laugh bubbled from his throat.

“My god you’re so fucking pathetic. Look at that.” He kneaded his hand hard into your ass, pulling and stretching the skin, keeping your pussy fleshed out for him. “Look at this shit. It’s dripping. I want you to admit how pathetic you are.” He started to jerk himself hard, precum spilling over his fingers in messy streams. “Say it.”

You shook your head, pressing it hard into the mattress below. His hand went for your hair, yanked it backwards, and a tight yell tore out of your throat.

“Say it right now or you’re not getting my dick. I can shove it in your throat and get off just fine.” Oh, but how fucking badly he needed to put it in your cunt... “Say it. Say you’re pathetic, and that you need an alpha cock. Say it.”

“Dabi, please—“ Your hips arched upwards, begging, completely overrun with need. He shoved you back down, dismantling your sanity with every second went without feeling him inside of you.

“Say it now or I swear I’m gonna leave you here, _____.” He yanked your hair tighter, his hand flying on his cock. Everything felt so good. Too good. Too fucking hazy. “I’m gonna use your mouth or these tits to get off, and then I’m gonna leave you here, dripping and fucking pathetic and alone. Alone in your heat like you always are, you stupid whore.”

The thought made you whimper despairingly; in turn, he groaned loudly as he worked precum out in rapid strokes.

“Say it. Now. Now.”

“I’m—” Needy sobs wracked your voice, your hands clutching the mattress. “I’m a—I’m pathetic, I’m pathetic—”

“Fuck,“ he moaned loud and heavy, pinching the base of his cock to hold off release, then going back to stroking again, unable to go without stimulus. “What else? What else, _____?”

“I’m pathetic and I need your cock!” you cried out, too desperate for pride, too desperate for anything else. “I need an alpha cock, I need it—Dabi, damn it, please!—”

You practically screamed when he rammed into you, a loud shout tensing out of him as he let go of your hair. He put both hands at your hips to hold you in place for his violent thrusts.

Your mouth was open in vacant stupor, eyes rolling, feeling another orgasm ripping through you almost instantaneously.

“Fuck… fuck,” he breathed, feeling you tighten around him. He growled angrily, biting his lip until the burnt, abused skin swelled and bled. “You fucking—fuck—” Your slickness was in such abundance that little specks flew with every one of his thrusts, making his cock spear in and out perfectly and without restraint.

Every muscle in his body screamed for release, so soon, so quickly. His balls ached for it, spittle flew from his mouth with every ragged breath he took. Your back arched so nicely underneath him. You were such a perfect fucking omega he almost couldn’t stand it.

He shut his eyes tight, hand going to fist back into your hair and wrench upwards. You didn’t protest, didn’t even let a sound leave your throat despite the pain it brought. It didn’t take away the pleasure; nothing could. Nothing could ever take this away: the stretch of his thick, long cock pounding into you, hitting that spot over and over again until you came once more, then twice, then a third time.

He was breathing so raggedly that it branched pain into his lungs; his fingers dug into your hip so harshly that blood spilled from beneath his nails.

“Fuck,” he breathed, almost like a whisper: an angry, desperate, hissing whisper. “Oh fuck, _____...”

Everything was too much: your scent, the sight of you, your perfect cunt gripping mercilessly with every thrust. He bent forward, stuttering his hips into you as his orgasm approached. Copper met his tongue when he bit harshly into your back.

Beyond his control, his quirk joined the fray of pleasure, blue flame flickering faintly along his palms and burning you. But fuck, it didn’t matter. Nothing fucking mattered but the wet slap of his hips ramming into you, the painful bite of his belt at your thighs, his teeth at your back, sharp alpha canines digging in.

He felt the flames on his face rising; along his jaw, in his hair, they had a mind of their own. He had the sense, just a sliver of it, to back away from you, saving you from the heat that licked parts of his face, even as his hand burned char into your hip.

His rhythm was going; he was close. It hurt. It fucking hurt. He needed to let go. Needed to give you his cum. Needed to pump it in your eager little omega cunt.

“I’m—shit,” he choked, swallowing the dryness in his mouth and moaning long and low. “Tell me you want it baby girl,” he panted. “Tell me you want this cum. Tell me.”

“I—” You coughed miserably, body beyond your muscles’ command. “I want it—”

“What? What do you want? Say it, sweetheart—fuck, tell me—Tell me you want my cum and I’ll fucking give it to you—” You squeezed him tight, too tight, and he keeled over with a grunt. "You feel so damn good. Fuck I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fill this tight pussy come on, come on—”

“I want your cum!” you sobbed, tightening around him as if on instinct. He grabbed your hips with both hands, fucked into you primally now, an angry, seething growl in his throat that was far from human.

Flames on his back, on his arms, on his neck. The skin where his hands held you steamed and you moaned in agony, or maybe pleasure—maybe both. He didn’t care. Neither did you.

“Fuck!” he shouted, just as his hips stuttered and fire shot up his spine. He threw his head back, tendons on his neck flaring, arms and legs shaking as he came inside. “Fucking shit—”

He panted for air, felt staples pulling in places all over him, felt his balls burning with pleasure and heard your mangled cry as he gave you what your body needed, what it had always fucking needed.

He didn’t stop fucking into you until his body couldn’t physically answer his brutal needs, and he bent over you, one last and hard thrust sending you flat against the mattress. His searing body pressed flush against you, met your nipped skin in an overwhelming contrast and forced a whimper from your throat.

He bit into you wherever his mouth could reach, claimed you in any way he could without irrevocably mating you. Lost in the heat of it all, in the pleasure that burned up his spine and gave him vertigo, he wanted nothing else but you: to dominate you, make you submissive, fucking own you until you knew nothing else but him and his cock and his seed inside you—but he couldn’t mate you. Wouldn’t.

Maybe not yet.

His flames subsided on their own, leaving smoke to rise all over his skin like overworked geysers; a steaming form on top of yours. The pungency of the expelled fumes would have surely made you nauseous any other time, but your senses were dulled to discomforts and pains alike.

You panted heavily beneath him, quivering under his weight. He lay his head against your back and breathed.

Wanting to push himself upright he twisted a hand into the cushion next to your head, tried to work himself up, but unable to with the debility of his worn muscles.

“Goddamnit,” he rasped, then, forcing strength into his limp limbs, pushed up on a shaky arm and righted himself dizzily. He had to close his eyes, reclaim his vision from the black spots encompassing it, then blinked the room back into focus.

You made some mousy noise beneath him. Then you squirmed, tightening around his oversensitive dick and making him grunt.

He pulled out of you carefully, slowly, every inch dissuaded by the tight squeeze. Wetness made a sleek mess of it all, slick streaks down to your knees, on his own skin, too; splattered against his pelvis, dripping down his balls and his thighs. He shivered. All of this, all of this mess for him, because of him.

His seed spilled out of you when his cockhead, red and twitching, released itself. His cum was hotter than what should have been normal. As it dripped down your thighs it felt like a simmering stream.

The mess, primal though flattering as it was, was quickly something of an agitation on his sweltering skin, and he wanted to be rid of it. A hand was at your back to steady himself, and he pushed at it again to keep his balance—that was when he noticed the full scope of the burns he’d left on you. The burns, the bruises, the blood. He looked upon the violence he’d done with careful regard. He knew from a simple glance, and from experience, that the burns were so severe they would be beyond full healing. You’d have them there forever. A token of his brutality, of his lust.

He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh to steady himself.

“Oi.”

He pushed at you, and your limp body moved jointlessly beneath him. He wet his mouth to alleviate some of the dryness. His heart raced and his ears felt stuffed by warmth.

“Oi, you bring a towel? Something to wipe this mess up?” Your cum on his skin was cooling uncomfortably. “Oi.” He shook you a little harder when you kept to your silence, and a quiet whine answered him. “C'mon.”

There was a tiny movement: you attempting to push on your arms. But they were utterly useless to the command of your body. A raspy sound came from your throat, like you were trying to speak in murmurs.

He leaned in. “What?”

You tried again, to little betterment. He tsked, impatience entering his body again despite how languid it felt, and smacked your ass lightly, making you jump.

“I can’t hear you dummy, speak up."

You gave up, and trying to muster what little forte you could, moved a shaking arm and pointed to a bag off to your left. He understood, reached for it, his muscles screaming at him in ache, and set about cleaning himself with a towel he found inside.

He thought better of doing the same for you, but was again drawn to the wounds he’d left on you. Provoking an alpha-like possessiveness in him as they did, they were unsightly, and some far away part of him regretted what he’d done. He cleaned you carefully, in the smallest form of apology he was capable of evoking.

When the rough towel wiped over your sensitive clit you shivered miserably, and he huffed a quiet, weak laugh, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Such an omega.”

He tugged his pants back up his waist and sunk down into the mattress at your side. He’d mastered his breathing again, though there was a heat in his lungs, like smoke, which made every breath feel powerful and choking. The smoke had all but gone from his skin, however, extinguished by his mind returning to lucidness.

But there was still a trace of the ferocious alpha in him there, his legs and depleted cock twitching when he breathed in and smelled you, a warmer vanilla now: something changed and unpure now that you’d been rutted. And he knew, possessively, with a shot of primal instinct going down his spine and making fire roll through him, that he’d forever changed you.

He looked over at you, realizing for the first time that you’d been completely inanimate. You barely looked to be breathing; your inhales came in irregular, heavy intervals, as if each breath taken succeeded a reminder that you were still alive, awake.

He knew it was the adrenaline still rushing in his veins that made him do it, but he reached out, pushed at your head gently so you would look his way, and brushed the matted hair from your face.

Your skin was flushed with sweat. A damp spot in the mattress must have been tears, and probably drool. It wasn’t particularly nice to look at, but it stirred something in him nevertheless. You were a mess. An utter mess. His mess.

Your eyes were closed, pupils fluttering beneath the lids like shaking leaves.

“Open your eyes,” he said, for no particular reason.

But they shut tight at the command, and your breathing picked up, as if you were debating between obeying or not.

“Open them,” he told you again, no firmer, but apparently, it was persuasive all the same. Tears slipped from your ducts when you complied, eyes shining and trembling.

He ignored the part of him that ached to fall into his greedy impulses again. It was alluring. Not just because you were an omega, but because you were you. And he’d fucked you. He’d taken you. He was your first alpha.

Without further instruction to do otherwise, your eyes started to close again, and the hand that still held your hair from your forehead tugged lightly, entreating your eyes to stay trained on him.

“Nuh uh, wake up. Talk to me a little, before you pass out.”

You hummed groggily in response, your mouth open but too dry to form around words. You sealed your lips together, swallowed the dryness.

“Can’t move,” you managed raspily, staring at him, looking exhaustedly vulnerable and knowing you did, too.

He watched you, debating leniency, and decided he’d give you some, just for good measure.

You made an uncomfortable whine when he took your forearm and dragged you to him. He didn’t try to hold you, or keep you against him. Instead when you curled into your little ball against his side, moaning as you did at having to stretch your body’s abused muscles, he let you. What he didn’t deny of intimacy, however, was the arm he draped over you leisurely, just to feel you as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

His thumb brushed over the flesh of your hip, and felt the corrugated, slowly cooling flesh there. The sensation made him grimace. It was so like the gnarly, repulsive texture of his own skin. Not as severe by a long shot, but nevertheless, unpleasant to the touch.

“Hurt?” he asked.

You blinked lazily, his voice sounding like a waning echo to your numb ears. “What...?”

“Your hips. Look at them.”

You forced your eyes open; they rolled themselves into nausea when you shifted to look. When you noticed the pinkish, creased wound on your burned skin, you froze, then started to shiver in your dismay.

“You… I…” Your unsteady hand moved, a finger traced over the rough, still raw skin. Clearly, the pain was lost on you, lust granted. But the sight had your stomach twisting, its emptiness sloshing uncomfortably at the sight of your own damaged flesh; you could even smell it, strong and sickening like cooking meat.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did,” he muttered, selfishly flippant. “And you’re lucky I did it there.”

You took a shaky breath, and shut your eyes, resigned to your body’s lethargy. “Asshole.”

He humphed. “It’ll heal,” he lied. “I’ve had worse, clearly. Done worse, too. It won't get infected.”

You were quiet afterwards, volitionally so, barely keeping your hostility in check. He was more than aware of your chagrin, and didn’t particularly care. If you started feeling it later, he’d go get you meds for the pain. But he’d known omegas to be particularly resilient in their heats. There was very little that registered above the natural pleasure of being filled by an alpha.

“I’m…”

He glanced down at you, saw your mouth opening and closing in determined hesitation.

“I’m not a whore,” you managed croakily, and irritably.

He started laughing. “You gonna hold that against me?”

“I’m not a whore.” You scowled, resentful of his carefree ribbing. “And I’m not”—you sputtered, breathing hard through a phlegm-choked cough–“a slut.”

His laugh subsided into a low chuckle in his chest. You didn’t see the wry grin on his face, but heard it.

He shrugged. “I say shit when I’m high on fucking. Don’t take it so personally.” But he couldn’t stop now that the warmth of craftiness was twisting in him. “Besides…” The arm draped over you shifted, found your ass, and gave a generous squeeze. You whimpered in objection. “You basically are my whore, now.”

You shivered with frustration. Despite the wild—incredibly wild and earth-shattering sex, you were conceiving a poorer and poorer image of him the more he gloated. With renewed strength, you rose on your arm and pushed his hand off.

“I’m not,” you insisted testily.

“I get you don’t know how this shit works,” he started, “so guess I’ll explain it to you.”

There it was again: the possessive, ravenous wildfire in his veins that coaxed his arm to reclaim its spot at your back, bring you closer to him. Adjusting his position, he let your head rest on his stomach; your legs curled comfortably around his own for comfort. He watched your head rise and fall as he breathed steadily.

“May not have mated you,” he went on, anticipating your griping, "but I’m your alpha now.”

You tensed at the declaration, he noticed, but no more than that.

“And it’s gonna stay that way unless you let some other one take you in a heat, which I don’t see you doing. Unless you’re just so dick hungry after this that you let any guy fuck you.”

One of your feet dug opposedly into his calf and he snickered. “Didn’t think so. To the last part, I mean. Trust me…” His hand smoothed over your ass again, and he smirked when you moaned quietly. “You’re gonna be hungry for it.”

“I can’t handle anymore,” you muttered, breath puffing against his stomach. Even those giddy times you’d imagined your first alpha taking you, envisioned a night of passion that would end in ardent nurturing, wrapped under your dominant’s embrace, protected and warm and wanted—you now balked the indulgent, cherished ideal of it. This was not what you had expected. Dabi was not what you had expected.

“I can’t,” you started, lacking the confident breath to loose your doubts on. “I don’t even… feel it. It’s gone.”

“You’re still in heat. It’ll pop back up when your body’s ready. I’m hoping you don’t need a biology lesson for this shit, but point of a heat is to get you knocked up. You get that, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he mocked. “And obviously since I’m not tryin’ to make you a mother, I didn’t do that. Your body’s gonna keep beggin’ for it until I give it to you, and I won’t. So you’ll get your heat back once your junk down there realizes it’s empty and wants to try again, except it’s gonna be a lot crazier this time, since you’ve finally had a taste. Told you that you were only hurting yourself by holding out this long."

You started to follow the logic. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But to hear it fleshed out like this, by the alpha who had taken you, felt somewhat like a hazardous warning.

“I just… “ You shook your head against him. “We did it. You said that would be enough. That it wouldn’t be so bad, now…”

“You thought one fuck would fix it?” he asked, condescension taking an amusing slope in his tone.

You didn’t answer, and he grinned.

“You got a lot to learn, sweetheart. Gotta get you through the whole heat, first. Life would be easy for you omegas if one fuck could take care of your problems.” He hummed. “No, you’re gonna be dyin’ to get bred up until your heat is over. I’m not gonna do that, but I’ll fill you up for a little relief.” Something about his own words made him twitch in anticipation, and he put a hand on your head, pinched a handful of hair gently in his fist. “Until you need it again. And again.”

You heart was beating fast. He felt it against his side. “We don’t have to,” you said.

“Don’t have to what?”

“I’m too tired,” you insisted, feeling your body lag into the mattress. “I won’t want it anymore. I’m done. This will be fine. I don’t need you.”

He laughed with such smugness that your cheeks went hot.

“Now you’re just being dumb… But fine. Think what you want. Give it a couple hours. You’ll be clawing at my dick before morning.” He picked idly at the drying blood under his nails, frowning to see it, but too amused by the prospect of your ignorance to regret his violence anymore. “And now, I’m gonna make you work for it.”

“I won’t. You got what you wanted. And I… you made your point.” You shoved off of his body, pushed away from him scornfully on limbs that were seconds from giving out, and sat yourself upright.

Your spine curled and straightened enticingly as you arched up; he watched with covetous appreciation, then saw the red blood drying on your back. He tried not to put out a spiteful laugh.

Let you find the mess he’d made later, he decided. For now, a more urgent matter was making sure his dick didn’t get too hard before you were ready to go again. But you stretched so nicely like that, reminding him of how your body had dipped so obediently for him when he’d bent you over and fucked you cross-eyed.

“You need to leave,” you said.

Snorting, he went back to picking at his nails. “I’m stayin’ right here. Even if I didn’t still have a job to do, this is a nice bed. Better than the couches at the bar, ya know. Nice little nest you’ve made for yourself."

“Then… I’m leaving.” You tried to stand, and failed, legs sliding out from under you and giving your body back to the mattress beneath.

“No you ain’t,” he snickered. “Even if you could find another place to wait off the heat before it came back again, you’re gonna run back to me.”

“I don’t need you,” you insisted decisively, angrier now.

“Yeah, you do. I’m your alpha now, remember?” He saw your shoulders rise with a heavy, angry breath. “You said it yourself. You’re pathetic, and you need an alpha cock. And right now, that’s mine."

“…Fuck you.”

He cackled patronizingly, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, giving no stock to your anger at all.

Indignation compelled you to your feet, wobbling, a hand going between your thighs to feel the hot throbbing there.

That was when you noticed the blood, and some of the bruises. You shook your head, infuriated with yourself, and with him.

“You’re… sick,” you muttered. “I can’t believe I let you… You’re a sick bastard."

He chuckled dismissively, and stopped himself from reaching out to grab you like he wanted to—that attitude of yours made you really fuckable.

Instead he rested back into the mattress, forcing his hands to keep busy on his nails, on his staples.

“Keep it up sweetheart,” he muttered. "When you’re wet for me again in a few hours, I’m gonna remember you said that."

“Fuck you,” you said again, too disillusioned to think carefully on the foreboding, and found your clothes.

Then, forgetting he’d torn them, you threw the tattered garb at him.

He ignored you, unfazed, flicking the ineffectual shirt off his chest as you rummaged through your bag for a new one.

You pulled it over your head, then, with a final glare of indignant reproval, walked off.

He didn’t bother asking where you were going. He knew you would be back.

#dabi x reader #bnha #dabi shtuff #dabi

2K notes · View notes