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docdudo · 1 month ago

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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 3)

When you woke up, it wasn't that much later. Maybe an hour later at most, which was normal for you. You weren't a heavy sleeper, but to be fair, hard to find any heavy sleepers in the foster system. You also hadn't moved an inch from your position during your light sleep. The bed almost looked like it was made, except for the small imprint of a person on top of the soft blankets.

The room was the same as it was before, the door was closed and the curtains drawn, none of the foster parents came into the room after they left you to unpack. Well, "unpack". You didn't really do that, you kept your clothes inside your backpack and the backpack safely tucked under the bed.

Just... precation.

The house was quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you immediatly shuffled over to the door and opened to try and pin point where anyone could be. It wasn't hard, you could faintly hear low voices downstairs, where you think it's the kitchen. You don't really remember much from the tour.

You weren't sure what to do now, but you just closed the door behind you quietly as your feet, padded by only your socks since you left your sneakers by the bed, gently made their way back down stairs. The voices only got clearer as you made your way down, getting closer to the kitchen that smelled extremelly good, close enough, in fact, that you flinched for a second as soon as you heard a loud, booming laugh.

"Oi, ya prick!! Stop that!" The scottish guy, the werewolf, yelled, laughing.

"Shhhh, the chick...!" The harpy quickly reprimended, even tho he was also laughing, much quieter.

"Not a chick, are they, Garrick?" A low, low voice sounded it out, and due to process of elimination, it could only be the wraith. Simon, if you remeber correctly. He looked so serious when you first saw him, but his tone now sounded just amused.

"Oh, please, you get what i mean..." The harpy scoffs, sounding amused as well. "What do you call a human chick?"

"Not a chick, that's for sure." Johnny laughs.

"Isn't it just like, 'baby'?" John suggests, apperantly shrugging a bit.

"I'll call 'er pup!" The werewolf immediatly ignores John's words, only for them all to start laughing.

"Such a little fledgling..." Simon sighs after they all quiet down a little. "I'm not sure how to take care of a human..."

"Ey, big guy, we'll learn!" Johnny smiles easily, giving one of his mates a heavy pat on the back. "I mean... wee lass looks frail as hell, but... we had babies before. Be a bit more confident!"

"No, I get Simon. I'm worried we might overlook their needs accidentaly." The dragon sighs. "I think I got it, but it still worries me."

You fidget a little on the wall you were leaning against. You wish you could sooth their worries. You didn't really need anything special, humans were adaptive. Very adaptive. You'll fit in, one way or another.

"You heard the social worker." Simon grunts, the sound alerting you for a second. "Call if we need anything."

You can hear the loud scoff John lets out at that, and for a second, the smell of smoke reached your nose.

"I don't need help to take care of my hoard."

The growl made your body instinctively lock up, quiet breathing catching on your throat as your eyes widen for a second. It's only when Johnny and Kyle laugh that you manage to calm down a little.

"Daddy Price is not one to take advice from others, huh?" Kyle laughs quietly, smooth and gentle voice that only makes the provocation sounds worse.

"Bastard never was." Johnny laughs back, shaking his head in amusement.

"That's it, shut it, the both of you." John growls once again, quieter this time, not really mad, just annoyed at best. "Besides, apperantly, i do know better. That woman brought the hatchling here in this cold wearing only a fucking light jacket."

"Dinner is ready." Simon's heavy voice announces, interrupting the banter. "Who's gonna call the fledgling?"

"ME!"

"I can go."

Both Johnny and Kyle glared at eachother as they spoke at the same time, which only made Simon grunt.

"Kyle can go. Fucking mutt being all loud like this is gonna scare off the fledgling."

Another growl sounded out, this one, different from John's. This one was Johnny's, and made you terrifed all the same as you made your way to the living room on the other side of the stairs, your pace just a little bit desperate thanks to the growl and the fight.

Thanks to your human nature, you couldn't really tell it was more of a playful growl than an annoyed growl. (They were also not figthing, that's just the way they spoke with eachother, but you just got here, don't expect to know that yet).

Your eyes fell into the cozy living room. It looked... mostly like normal living rooms, but you could still see some kind of... nest thing to the side, close to the fireplace, with confortable pillows and blankets. The couches also had a lot of them. You didn't know they liked confort that much, but you suppose it's not... a bad thing.

"They're not-!"

You startle immediatly at the half-shout, turning around to make eye contact with a slightly desperate Kyle, giant wings opened in despair as his feathers perked up. As you both stare at eachother in alarm, his wings started to close behind him again, feathers still looking just a bit frazzled.

"Oh, hatchling, don't scare me like that..." He crooned softly, crooned, eyes going all gentle as he approached.

The croon caught you a bit off guard as you kept your guard up, eyes wide still looking at his direction. You didn't hear these weird noises often, even if you had basically only hybrid classmates at school. The croon sounded weird, but also... soft. Conforting, you could say.

"I though you had left." He murmur quietly, kneeling in front of you to try and get closer to your height. It didn't work very well, as he was still bigger even tho he was kneeling. If anything, it only made you more scared. "You're a quiet little thing, huh? Don't be scared, baby, i'm safe..." He crooned again, all soft and gooey.

Like he wasn't being all snarky and ironic with his mates just seconds ago.

Freaking... wolf in sheep clothing........... and he's not even the werewolf.

You finally managed to calm down a bit, as you breathed in quietly and nodded at him, curling just a little bit into your own body. You could see his wings shuffling at his sides, hands opening for a second before they were forced into fists quickly (before they could reach for you).

"We have dinner ready, sweetie. You'll like Si's food, he's a very good cook. Well, we all are." He smiles a bit, like he was boosting himself as a little joke. "It's cold, so we made stew. It's chicken noddle stew, do you like it, baby?"

The... baby voice, the very subtle baby voice was certainly... embarrassing. Tho, you still nodded quietly at his gentle and quiet tone, making him smile a bit bigger.

"Let's go eat then, uh?"

He murmured gently, giant hand with talons closing around your much smaller hand, so small it was completely enveloped by his warmth. You didn't really want to hold his hand, but he didn't give you much option, as he got up, still slightly bend down, and gently tugged you with him to the kitchen.

You followed.

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cakelitter · 2 months ago

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Snuggle Up

Leon x Puppy- Hybrid Fem! Reader

warnings: p in v, dirty talking, slight somnophilia, pussy slapping, slight degradation

summary: Sighing, you stare at the ceiling, thinking of a possible solution to finally be able to rest. Well… there is one way to solve it.

Sleeping next to Leon.

Getting wrapped up in his muscly embrace and being surrounded with his scent will surely scare away all of the thunder. One problem however, you’re not welcomed in his bed anymore.

words: 2.7k

a/n: sleepy and irritated Leon is so ughhh. Hope you enjoy him as much as I do!!

Thunder rumbles, over and over again, making sure your eyes don’t get a moment of rest. It’s been storming the past few days, but today has to be the worst day yet. Gloomy skies making it hard to tell what time of the day it is.

And there you are, bundled up in bed at four am with your tail tucked in between your legs whenever lightning strikes. What if the house gets struck? Then you’ll be homeless again, living on the streets and getting kicked by random drunk men on the road. God no, no, no, anything but that again.

You twist and turn in bed, but it all comes useless at easing your worries. You’ve tried everything, counting sheep, counting to a hundred, and placing the pillow over your head, trying to block the sound from your floppy ears.

Should’ve known the last one wouldn’t work, your hearing is good, amazing actually. You’re grateful for that, getting to eavesdrop on Leon’s phone calls when he’s inside the office that you’re not allowed in, or listening to the couple upstairs fight about chores for the third time this week.

However, in this current circumstance, you wish you could just rip them off and sleep in peace. You have the comfiest mattress, with the comfiest pillows, and a hoard of stuffed animals to keep all the scary monsters that will try to grab your legs at bay.

Sighing, you stare at the ceiling, thinking of a possible solution to finally be able to rest. Well… there is one way to solve it.

Sleeping next to Leon.

Getting wrapped up in his muscly embrace and being surrounded with his scent will surely scare away all of the thunder. One problem however, you’re not welcomed in his bed anymore.

Apparently, you kick in your sleep, hoard the blanket, and drool a lot, and he’s not getting enough sleep because of that.

How rude.

You are doing him the courtesy of warming his bed and dog piling on him like you did as young pup with your litter mates to keep him warm, and he doesn’t even appreciate that.

And so, you have to sleep in your own bed now. Is he not scared for your safety? What if a murderer sneaked through your window and tried to hurt you? So what if you live seven stories high, it’s still not safe!

Clearly Leon doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and is not taking your safety seriously like an owner should.

Maybe you can just sneak into his bed without waking him up. Pinky promising that you will be on your best behavior. No kicking, no hoarding, no dog piling, and no drooling. Easy Peasy.

Grabbing your pillow, you head over to his room across the hall. Your hand reaches over to the door knob, and slowly twists it, making sure it doesn’t creek too loud.

The bathroom light seeps into the dark bedroom, illuminating the sight of Leon’s bare back to you. His hair is splayed out across the white pillow case as his chest rising and falling with mellow breaths.

Closing the door behind you, you make your way to his bed, placed against the wall in the corner of the room. Tiptoeing just like how you see in the colorful cartoons you watch. You spot an empty space on the bed, but you have to climb over Leon to get there.

He’s a light sleeper, not sure if he’s always been like this; however, life events definitely have a play in that. Luckily though, today he came back from work exhausted.

Promised you to watch a movie together, well you ended up watching the movie while he snored next to you. And as soon as it ended, he got up, placed a kiss on your forehead and dragged himself to bed. Maybe you were having extra trouble falling asleep because you didn’t get enough pets and love today.

You have needs, and they need to be met.

Never were the high maintenance type, used to be grateful whenever someone felt bad for your sorry ass and threw you a half-eaten chicken nugget. Staring at them and their food so intensely, praying that they drop dead so you could eat whatever’s left.

But things are different now, you sleep with a full stomach and a worry-free brain.

Placing one knee on the mattress, feeling it shift with your weight, you place your palm on the soft surface and begin to crawl over.

Is there a smarter way to be doing this? Absolutely.

But you like a little fun challenge.

As your torso is above Leon’s sleeping body, you feel him shift a bit, making you hold your breath and cross your fingers that he doesn’t think you’re an intruder. His instincts would activate so fast, you’d be slammed onto the wall on the other side of the room within a heartbeat.

Thankfully, he doesn’t wake up, and you successfully manage to make it onto the bed. Taking in a deep breath and smiling, proud of yourself, you place your head on your pillow and take one final look at your sleeping owner.

His brows are relaxed, the knots that are usually there disappearing. Shallow breaths are the only sound echoing through the silent room along with light snores here and there. He sleeps shirtless, always had. Although when he used to let you sleep with him, he’d put on a shirt because “it’s not appropriate” or whatever.

It’s honestly bullshit, because you sleep in nothing other than an oversized shirt and panties and he never asked you to change.

Either way, he’s now top naked in front of you, blessing you with tits and all.

Listen, you’re no male anatomy enthusiast or anything like that, but you’re a Leon enthusiast because he is your favorite person in the whole world. Hence, you will in fact admire the view whenever you have the chance.

One of his massive arms is placed beneath his head to provide support while the other is draped over the bed; close to you. Chiseled abs peeking above the duvet cover, and few pieces of hair covering his face.

You want to bite him, a sweet little love bite to show your appreciation. But you have a feeling that he wouldn’t be a huge fan of that. So, shaking that idea out of your head, you pull the covers over you and close your eyes.

Tense muscles begin to relax and breaths become slower. See, all is well, you’re comfortable, Leon is comfortable, everything is great.

That’s until thunder rumbles again, causing your eyes to snap back open.

This has to be sort of sick joke the universe is playing on you. Flicking your tail and hearing it thud against the mattress in irritation, you feel the ounce of sleep that you once had, slipping away from you.

Looking back over at Leon, you purse your lips. You didn’t want to cuddle up next to him, well you did but it’s a dangerous move. Whatever, desperate times call for desperate measures. And he chose to adopt you, so a pain in the ass or not he has to deal with you.

You scooch closer to him, grabbing his arm and lifting it up to make room for you to get closer. It’s heavy, why the fuck is it so heavy. You’re struggling over here.

God forbid you get put in a situation where you have to carry him to get medical attention or to a nearby clinic. Your body would immediately give up on you.

You’re not bred for this, not one of those hybrids that can save lives or sniff drugs. You’re meant to sit at home all day and complain like you’re the one paying the bills. Might’ve been off to a rocky start when you found yourself to be homeless, but you’re past that. You have a loving home, with a loving owner, and you’re spoiled rotten.

Managing to slip into the space between Leon’s arm and the mattress, you snuggle up against is chest; taking in the musky scent of his shower gel.

“What’re you doing.” His voice sounds so groggy, barely pronouncing his words right. You hear him gulp causing his prominent adams apple to bob. He’s not even asking you; just reminding you of a topic the two of you discussed countless of times.

“I can’t sleep, thunder’s too loud.”

“Yeah, well thunder doesn’t bite sweetheart. Back to bed.” He’s ordering you around without his eyes opening once. “Aren’t you scared for my safety?”

“Not really.”

Your brows furrow, as he sleepily opens his eyes and catches a glimpse of your irritated expression. A smile creeping up on his face. “I’m just messing with you baby, I do care. It’s just that one of us has work in the morning while the other takes seven naps a day.”

His eyes close again, you’re not entirely sure if he’s going to remember this conversation in the morning.

“I promise I’ll behave.”

“Sure you will sweetheart, sure you will.” His large arm wraps around you, as he places his head on top of yours.

You take that as him agreeing to let you stay, causing a mischievous smile to flash across your face. This went smoother than you expected.

His chest is flush against you, while it is nice, you can barely breathe. You turn around, your back now facing him, and close your eyes again.

One second passes, then two, then three, and you’re sleeping position is still not comfortable. Deciding to fix it, you squirm a bit, attempting to reach a position you feel comfortable in. But you just can’t seem to get it right, either squishing your arm too hard, or your face, or your back just fucking hurts.

“Stop squirming.” His voice sounds stern, as his grip on you tightens. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, you always had the habit of shuffling till you’re comfortable, why is it such a big deal- oh.

You can feel it, the feeling of the stiff outline of his cock against the side of your ass. Freezing in place, you feel lost on what to do now. Obvious answer would be to do as you’re told and pretend like this never happen the next morning.

Or…

You squirm a little more, making sure to rub up against your owner’s boner. Letting your primal instincts take over you and savoring the choked groans that leave his mouth, his grip tightening around you even further.

Is that supposed to be a way of telling you to stop or to continue? You continue to do the latter, focusing on the sounds and heavy breaths coming from Leon, and ignoring how uncomfortably wet you’ve become.

He feels so big against you, enough to rip you in half. You wonder how he’ll feel inside of you, how nice and full you’d be. Silencing the aching desire between your thighs, claiming you as his.

A large hand grabs your hips, squeezing your side so hard to almost wince. Your movements cease as you sense him lean in closer to your ear.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop?” his breath is hot against your ear lobe; whispering through gritted teeth. “It doesn’t look like you’re behaving to me.”

All the bravery and confidence you had dissipates as he confronts you. “It felt good…”

Your voice is shaky, and barely audible. You feel trapped, unable to run and hide under the covers like you usually do. He has you here, taking accountability of your actions, no escape no way of fleeing.

“It did? Was it fun?” his tone reeks mockery, heat rushes up to your cheeks in embarrassment.

His hips thrust against you, coaxing a groan out of him. “Were you having fun toying with me? Sneaking into my bed and rubbing up against me like I wouldn’t notice?”

Shit, your panties are fucking soaked, you really shouldn’t be this turned on by this. “I’m sorry.”

A low chuckle escapes his mouth, like you just said a joke.

“No you’re fucking not.”

The mattress shifts beneath you as he gets up and yanks you flat on your back. Face now, inches away from you, fierce eyes piercing into yours. You can’t tell what’s running through his head, eyes dropping down to his jaw as it clenches then relaxes.

“I do mean it.” You don’t, no a single cell in you does. This is just a desperate attempt in trying to convince him. He won’t buy it though, no matter how bad you want him to; reading you like an open book since he day he took you in.

“You’re such a horrible liar.” His eyes squint as he shakes his head in disapproval. “You can’t be a horrible liar and a fucking brat sweetheart.”

“It’s about time that I teach you some manners, think I might’ve been too soft with you recently.” His eyes drop down to your panty clad cunt. Your shirt now bunched up at your hips, exposing the wet spot on your laced panties.

“Fuck, you really want me to fuck some manners into you huh.” Your breath hitches, mind going stupid at the way he’s talking to you. Fighting the urge to nod intensely in agreement.

His hand moves over to your cunt, cupping your mound and running his fingers up to your clit as it pulses with desire. “Such a dirty puppy I have. Here I was thinking your innocent while your cunt is soaking my fucking sheets.”

Grabbing your underwear, he pulls it up, exerting pressure onto your needy clit, causing you to moan and buck your hips. Reaching over, you grab his forearm that is supporting him above you, digging your nails into it, as your legs spread open even more for him.

“Want you inside of me, please.” He grunts at the sight of your spread legs, pussy fully on display for him. Gripping the gusset of your panties, he takes them off, tossing them into the abyss of the dark space. Hands reaching over to fiddle with the band of his sweatpants, pulling them down revealing his thick cock to you.

You don’t bark, but you would at this instant. Gawking at his length, and wondering how the head would feel against your spongy walls.

You feel the familiar sensation of his hand cupping your mound again, fingers dipping down to your leaky core, distributing the warm fluid back up to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

A stinging sensation makes you yelp as a hand spanks your pussy making your ears twitch at the pain. However, the unpleasant sensation is short lived, transitioning into pleasure. The line between the two fading away with every passing moment.

He chuckles once again, pleased with your reaction. “Take your punishment like a good girl baby.”

Your legs kick out as he spanks you two more times, leaving your cunt feeling hot; tears beading on your waterline. Moving up onto his knees, he grabs his dick, slapping it against your puffy clit before centering it between your folds. His eyes shoot back up into yours, as he teases your entrance.

Slowly, he thrusts into you, causing your mouth to open at the stretch, and it doesn’t take long before he bottoms out inside of you. Your hypothesis of feeling full is validated; you feel more than full, borderline too much. Causing you to squirm and claw at Leon’s chest.

Seconds later, he begins to move, backing up before thrusting back into your heat, each thrust becoming more powerful that the one before it. The two of you getting completely lost in the feeling of each other. “That’s it, take my cock baby. Fucking take it.”

The sounds coming from the apex of your thighs are nothing short than nasty. Rain falls in the background as your mind shuts off completely. Sweat beads at the top of your foreheads, Leon’s hips slamming into yours causing the bed beneath you to creek, creating a harmony along with your moans and whimpers.

The knot in your stomach eventually snaps, your body shudders as you squeeze down on Leon causing him to follow pursuit. The warm sensation of his cum feels oddly comforting as you get pulled back into reality.

“Told you that you drool a lot.” He chuckles, his thumb wiping off the saliva on the side of your mouth. Collapsing next to you, he pulls you into his arms as a sudden wave of sleepiness crashes over you. Eyelids feeling heavy, and mind feeling light; you finally begin to drift off into the sleep you craved for.

Perhaps, climbing into your owner’s bed was the right decision after all.

a/n: a little ooc i knowwww, but i had to write it.

divider by: @/plutism

#cakelitter #leon kennedy #leon #resident evil #leon x reader #death island leon #leon x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #older leon kennedy #leon kennedy x me #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x puppy reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x hybrid reader #leon kennedy smut #puppy reader #puppy hybrid

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reallyromealone · 1 year ago

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Reader is short in this

I'm fixated on this man so be warned

Malleus x male reader

Omegaverse

"Hey... We aren't trying to take your omega" Lilia said softly to his ward, Malleus holding (name) close in his arms in the depths of the dorms, (name) unconscious in his arms as the Fae prince kept him safe in his hold.

His green eyes practically glowed as he growled at his guardian "I know, he's your mate... But he needs help" (name) had bruises, having been attacked by another student when Malleus was passing by, they understood protecting him but he was treating (name) like he was his mate.

Lilia sighed as he looked at the other whom he considered his pup "your omega is injured pup, let me help" his voice soothing and calm, a tone he used when Malleus was just a hatchling and it seemed to resonate in his brain, the feral fae prince allowing Lilia to come close and inspect the Omega he claimed as his mate "good hatchling" Lilia said to his adoptive son, Malleus grunting as he watched carefully "you did so good protecting him, he only has a few bruises" nothing magic couldn't fix after all.

Malleus preened under his adoptive sires praise, fully feral as he pulled (name) back into his hold "why don't you show him your hoard? Keep him safe" Lilia said softly, watching the other take (name) into his walk in closet, the dragon fae pleased to have (name) amongst the hoard/nest.

The teachers made quick work to remove the problem student as word got around about the incident, a few witnesses seeing it, reporting it to the staff immediately.

And now they could only wait for the prince to snap out of it for the safety of (name).

When (name) woke he was surrounded by warmth and the smell of spring and campfire, sleepily snuggling into the chest of--

Looking up his eyes connected with emerald eyes, shrouded by long black strands of hair, horns stop at the base of his crown.

"H-hi?" He was confused and startled, his last memories being pinned against books and nearly assaulted "mate" Malleus said simply as he scented the Omega, nose brushing his neck lovingly. (Name) didn't know what to do, his omega soothed by the gestures that the other showed "were you the one that helped me?" (Name) asked knowing he wasn't going to get a response as he adjusted himself to look at the other clearly "thank you Malleus" he whispered and the others lizard brain slowly processed the praise and rumbled before gently nipping (name)s cheek as a form of kiss.

(Name) was thankful for health class, learning how to get an alpha out of a feral state though it was easier said than done with his nerves.

Gently he took his face in his hands and kissed him "please come back..." He was awkward as he tried to seem submissive to the other, pumping out calming pharamones to convince the other.

It took an hour before the lights turned on behind his eyes and he inspected him "thanks for helping me... Sorry I made you go feral"

"You're my mate, of course I would" Malleus said as if it were an obvious fact and (name) was confused "what are you talking about?" They weren't mates? They hadn't even spoken before this "I could sense it" malleus held (name)s hand and mumbled an incantation, the closet glowed slightly as a flower bloomed on each of their hands, identical to one another "Fae magic allows one to see their soulmate through flowers" malleus explained and (name) was in awe as the flowers disappeared like bits of shattered glass before fading out of existence "so... You want me?"

"You are my mate, why wouldn't I?" Malleus spoke like it was obvious "you will return with me to the briar valley" he said assuredly and (name) smiled "you will have to take that up with my brother" (name) said softly and Malleus tilted his head but just held him close.

Lilia smiled at his ward, weeks had passed and Malleus was giving (name) very fae like courting gifts, plants and magic items and (name) in return gave him food and scented items.

It was quite cute but (name)s older brother wasn't a fan, Leona glaring at the relationship but didn't say anything, knowing his brother was happy, the Omega having multiple sources of scary dog privileges.

And with one of the most powerful mages as a mate. Leona didn't have any particular worries.

People found it funny how (name) could be carried by his new mate, Malleus a few times draping himself over the short lion who in turn soaked up the warmth.

#twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #malleus x male reader #malleus x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

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leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago

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Fallen Angel

Sylus x gn!Reader (more fem-coded)

I literally didn't do work yesterday when I told myself I would bc of this fic. I was so in it that I had to keep working on it or else. And I'm so glad I did cuz I love writing in the Raven universe I've created

Warnings: torture, blood, injury, gun violence, mind control, swearing, (wanting to) vomit, slight invasion of privacy, pet names, sleep deprivation, alcohol + drinking, possessive behavior, kissing, some religious imagery, selectively mute reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 4,887

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (Fill this out to be tagged in future works!)

“Look at you. Sylus’s prized pup.”

Electricity tears through your body. It steals the air from your lungs. Your bloodied fingernails dig into the wood of the chair. Your legs shake against their will. You grit your teeth so hard they hurt. You taste copper.

When it stops, your body sags forward, chest heaving desperately for air through the aftershocks of pain. You refuse to scream for them. Refuse to let them hear your voice when it is reserved for one man only.

“Give it up already, pup.” The man supervising your torture grabs your chin in deceptively soft hands, contradicting the tight hold he has on your jaw. He brushes his thumb against your lower lip. It comes away red. “He would have found you by now if he actually cared. You know that.”

You glare at him. Silent.

“Besides, be honest with yourself, pup,” he leans in close, too close, ��why would a man like him need a bodyguard?” He tilts your head to one side, then the other. “You’re just a mangy stray he took in out of pity. A fighting dog. Good at ripping out throats, and nothin’ else. Ain’t that right?”

He shoves your face away sharply. Your world spins from that small action alone, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut until you see spots in the darkness. Boots scrape along the floor behind you. You take in one last gasp of air before the metal touches your skin.

Sylus checks his messages again. Nothing.

No texts, no calls, no mysterious notes before you left.

Shouldn’t we set the rules for hide-and-seek before the game starts?

It isn’t necessarily unusual for you to disappear, but it is unusual for you to ignore his messages. Even if you didn’t answer right away, you still read them. Now, the patronizing notice of Delivered stares back at him.

He snaps his fingers and Mephisto is there in a flash, perched on his finger and rapt with attention. The poor bird is missing you, too. His hoard of trinkets to give you is stagnant - nothing coming in and nothing going out. He’s too nervous to even go collect more.

“Search Linkon City. Any sign of them, you report it.”

The mechanical crow leaps off his finger and out the window in a flash.

In the next instant, the twins are standing before him, summoned by a quick message. They stand at attention, too. No banter passes between them. “Search the N109 Zone for any sign of Raven. By any means necessary.”

“On it, Boss.”

“Sure thing, Boss!”

He stares at the messages again as their footsteps recede into the hall. He scans your last message, searching for any miniscule clue as to where you’ve run off to.

One of my old “colleagues” is bugging me again :/

Want me to take care of them for you?

I can do it myself

I know you can, sweetheart

It was too vague to go off of. You were very tight-lipped about your past, only making off-handed comments about it here and there: You don’t sing anymore (implying you did once, which came as a minor shock to him), your apparent wealth is stolen (but no hints to where from), and you’re more familiar with the streets of Linkon than the N109 Zone. Never any mentions of past dealings you had before, or anything close to a partnership that could have involved “colleagues”.

The longer he sits here, straining for any glimpse of a past you never involved him in, the more he wishes he’d asked more. It wasn’t for lack of interest, but you weren’t very vocal at the best of times. It felt more appropriate to leave it alone and wait for you to offer up tidbits on your own.

Two prominent marks marr your skin, presenting where the alligator clips had pressed into your back over and over and over again. Charred flesh, bubbling with blisters. Something sharp pops one of them. You draw blood from your cheek to avoid screaming.

The man sighs. “You’re a stubborn one.” He pushes off of the wall and leans down to be face-to-face with you. “What’s it gonna take to get you to sing for us?”

Your body trembles with exertion as you raise your head. You haven’t been allowed to sleep. Every time your eyes droop, you get shocked. You fight not to collapse. You can’t let the torture break you. You can’t.

He smirks as he sees the blood dribbling from your mouth, mixing with saliva and snot as it trails down your chin. His satisfaction sickens you. For as much as you understand the thrill, understand the rush of bringing someone to their knees before you, you never looked at them like this. This is revolting.

You spit in his face.

“Ah, fuck!” He almost falls on his ass as he jerks away. His nice sleeve is ruined as he wipes his face.

Lightning sears through your nerves. It burns you up inside. Your muscles clench harshly, spasming uncontrollably. All air rushes out of you. It feels like drowning. Your eyes stare at the bright white light on the ceiling, unable to cry out, unable to look away. Unable to breathe.

For the first time since this whole thing began, tears form in your eyes.

The clips are removed from your skin. Colored and black spots obscure the blurry light. You think you might pass out. You think you’ve reached the end of your resolve.

And then you can breathe again.

The breaths come in wheezy and ragged. Your body lurches forward as you cough. Your throat spasms, stomach twisting with the need to throw up. But nothing comes out. You dry heave into your lap, blood landing in wet droplets on your pants.

The man pulls your head up by your hair. You can’t see him. Can’t see the ugly grimace on his face. Your eyes won’t open. You cough, desperate to vomit in the false hope that it would make you feel better. Hot tears slip down your cheeks.

“You-!” He growls in frustration as he drops your head again. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his shoes as he paces back and forth in front of you. “Okay. Okay! Fine! You can rest now, pup. How’s that sound? You can take a nice, long nap. Sounds good, right?”

You don’t answer him. Don’t show any signs you even heard him.

“Keep an eye on them. I’m gonna go fucking change.”

Sylus hasn’t been idle. Fully aware of the breach to your privacy, he taps away at your laptop. The password wasn’t guessed, merely bypassed. He didn’t trust that he’d be able to guess it before being locked out.

He pulls up the same messenger app you use on your phone. Bypassing the password again, he watches the spinning buffer as it syncs up with your phone. It takes far too long. He busies himself with going through your search history with no luck. You know how to play this game, how to meander in and out of danger without leaving any traces. It’s a remarkable talent that frustrates him to no end right now.

No messages from Luke, Kieran, or Mephisto.

A quiet jingle comes from your laptop speakers as the sync completes. He searches the most recent messages, ignoring his own despite the red dot next to his avatar. One chat exchange in particular catches his eye:

Hello, angel~ When u gonna come sing for me again?

Never.

So ur still alive then? Thats good to hear

Ive missed u <3

Stop sending your men after me. Our business is done.

U know damn well it isnt. U reneged our agreement AND stole from me

U owe me bigger than ever, angel

You’ve made more since I left. You’re not hurting for funds.

Its the principle of the matter

U still flaked

- Read 9:38pm, Thursday -

Okay, don’t respond

But if u want this stain off ur back, u gotta finish ur deal

Same stakes as before

Ill even shorten ur sentence to one week

Now doesnt that sound fair?

- Read 12:02am, Friday -

Second Circle

David will pick u up

No thanks.

Fine. See u in hell, angel~

By the end, Sylus’s face is set in a sour sneer. The way whoever this was spoke to you was demeaning, controlling, disgusting. They acted like they owned you. You’re a bird that can’t be caged; Sylus knows this well.

But, it’s the best lead he’s got. Nothing else is as recent as this, except for your text to him complaining about your old “colleague”.

He messages Mephisto, telling him to scope out the Second Circle, a nightclub on the outskirts of Linkon. He starts digging into the place, its owner, and what he can do to have a meeting with them.

You fight sleep for as long as you can. You try everything to avoid letting the exhaustion sink in. You rub your wrists raw with the rope holding you down, hoping the pain will distract you, but the person overlooking you stops you immediately. You try to put together and take apart a gun in your mind, imagining the heft of it in your hand, the recoil that shoots up your arm, the satisfaction shooting these fuckers in the face would bring. You even try running through your last escape from this place, mentally following the corridors and steps it took to secure your freedom.

None of it works. Against your will, your body gives in. You slip into dreamless sleep.

You don’t know how long it is when you’re awoken.

The chair tips, snapping your consciousness back to the present as gravity shifts. It falls backwards, the ceiling light bearing down on you like the desert sun. Your head hits the cold floor. Hard. Before your mind can catch up, a cry is torn from your throat.

The cry is cut short.

A haze of disconnection washes over your body. You can’t feel your pain, can’t feel your body. It’s like your mind is trapped in a prison. You’re forced to watch through wide eyes as the man leans over you.

“Finally…” His voice floats in like a distant echo. “Take them to the boss. He’s got his angel back.”

No. No, no, no, no, no.

You try to fight against them as they untie your hands and ankles, as they lift you up, as your legs start walking without your input. You try to scream. To lash out. To do anything.

And you can’t.

The man must notice your struggle. Must feel it through his Evol. “Relax, pup. The worst of it is over. Now you just gotta complete your end of the bargain.”

Your body walks down a long, familiar hallway. The doors at the end are wide open. A poker table sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by faces you wish you didn’t recognize. Some of them bear the scars of your last escape.

In a gilded throne, sitting across from the dealer with a tall stack of poker chips, is the man you’ve been running from.

The Devil.

The neon lights of the night club shine like a warning sign through the tinted windows of the car. The electronic red curves and twists of a script font. The outline of a devil girl lounging on top of the name, cleavage out and winking. Her tail ends in a sharp point, underlining the name.

The Second Circle.

The air in the vehicle is suffocating. Rage boils under the surface of Sylus’s skin, barely contained. His Evol burns his hands, aching to be released.

Luke opens his door as Kieran stands guard next to it.

You’re in there.

It’s been almost a week since you disappeared. Two days since Mephisto spotted you through the door of the club. One day since he requested an audience with its owner.

Sylus gets out of the car. Luke closes the door behind him. The twins flank his sides as he walks to the entrance. A long line of patrons waits to be let in by the bouncer, a man as tall as he was and twice as wide. He barely glances at Sylus before letting him in. The customers closest to the door fall eerily silent as he passes, oppressed by the energy surrounding him.

Purple, blue and red lights break up the darkness. Poles occupied by dancers are interspersed through the room, with girls dressed up in skimpy red devil costumes or sinfully revealing nun attire. One of the poles stands on a prominent stage, gauzy red curtains drawn to a close behind it. All three of them scan the room for signs of you with no luck.

Drunken dancers and tipsy customers pass by in a blur as he crosses the dance floor to a door hidden in the shadows. Two men in suits guard it, shoulder to shoulder.

“I have a meeting with the Devil,” he announces over the music. Despite the heat raging within him, his words are cold.

One of the men nods his head. “Mr. Sylus,” he greets, too warmly given the circumstances. “The Devil has asked that you please wait until after the main show. It will be starting soon.” He gestures over to the stage.

Sylus stares through them, searching for any reason why he really should wait and not release his Evol right now and tear his way through the building.

The lights shift from bright neons to sultry reds and oranges as the music fades out. The anticipation in the room is palpable as all eyes turn to the stage. A silhouette with feathery wings stands behind the curtain.

None of this was interesting to Sylus. What stopped him in his tracks was a voice. Your voice.

His eyes shoot to the stage, face hardening as he watches the curtains part.

You, dressed up in a white angel costume, altered from something pure and holy to be lustful. Wings stick from your back, short but no less enticing. He can’t hear the slow jazz music over the siren sound of your voice. Can’t feel the burning of his Evol as his eyes follow your movements to the pole.

“You must like this song,” he points out with a grin. “You keep humming along to it.”

You smirk as you meet his eye, not pausing as you copy the melody note for note. It’s much better than his singing.

“Do you know the words?”

You nod. You push yourself up from the sofa where you lounged to lay yourself across his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, lips brushing against his ear as your humming fades away. “I don’t sing anymore.”

His hand trails along your spine before resting on your waist and pulling you closer. “Shall I sing them, then?”

You pinch his shoulder. He chuckles.

All at once, the music turns sour within him.

“Boss, is that…?” Luke pipes up.

Kieran shakes his head. “No, it can’t be. Right?”

His hand clenches into a fist by his side. It’s minutes of torture. His eyes can’t seem to look away as you move fluidly around the pole, smiling too softly at the patrons who stand at the edge of the stage. At one point, you kneel down, knees spread apart, right in front of one of them. She gulps as you grab her by the chin, gently guiding her while you sing until her face is so close. If she’d been a little bolder, she could have met your lips. But your fingers trail along her jaw until you let go, slowly standing up while maintaining eye contact with her.

As soon as the final notes leave your lips, Sylus is at the door. He doesn’t stay to watch the curtains close. Luke and Kieran rush after him as he speeds off down a hallway.

Once the door closes, the cheering is silenced, unable to reach through the thick material. What takes its place is the laughter down the hall.

Each step feels too long. It seems to stretch on forever. Door after door, all leading up to the open double doors at the end of the hall. He only stops once he’s crossed the threshold, standing just inside the doorway as the players turn to acknowledge his presence.

The man in the throne doesn’t bother to pull his face out of your neck.

The sneer on Sylus’s face deepens. This isn’t you. You would never perch on another man’s lap like this. You would never giggle as his mouth drags over your skin, whispering sinful things in your ear. You would never turn to look at him like that, like he’s a stranger you’re passing in the street.

“We have business.”

The Devil sighs boredly, finally drawing away from the angel in his lap to look at Sylus. He smirks easily. He’s completely relaxed. The players set their cards down slowly.

“Well, well, well. Mr. Sylus. How nice to finally make your acquaintance.”

“What did you do to them?”

“Who, me?” He chuckles. He reaches for a glass on the edge of the table and brings it calmly to his lips, drinking the expensive scotch long and slow. “I didn’t do anything.”

Sylus sighs sharply, bored of this game. “Fine. What did your men do to them?”

The Devil cocks his head to the side, smirking wider. It looks too big for his face. “Nothin’ they couldn’t handle.”

Luke and Kieran keep a close eye on the poker players as their hands reach beneath the table. Their own hands come to rest at the weapons on their hips.

“Didja wanna make a deal, or are you just gonna stand there all night?”

There is no deal that could be made that would be fair. The Devil already had what he wanted - you. Under his control, on his lap, answering to his every whim. If he can’t deal with the Devil…

“Whose Evol is it, sweetie?”

You tilt your head. It’s familiar, and it’s horrifically not you. “What do you mean, mister?”

His right eye glows as he levels his stare on you. He’s never used this on you before. It feels like a betrayal of your autonomy. Somehow, he knows you forgive him.

A face flickers across his vision. Blood stains a nasty grimace. You desire the owner of that face to die. You don’t care how. Your rage almost makes him dizzy.

He pulls a gun from his waistband. The owner of the face stands first, aiming for the Onychinus leader. Sylus shoots first.

Blood splatters on the cards.

All hell breaks loose.

Your eyes seem to come into focus in a flash. Luke and Kieran are too quiet as they shoot down the other players at the table. Sylus’s own Evol reaches throughout the room, evaporating bullets before they can hit either of the twins, himself, or you. He doesn’t stop watching you.

Your face is contorted with fury. The usual calm neutrality that hides your emotions when you fight is gone. You shatter the glass of scotch on the wooden rim of the poker table. The shard you grab digs into your hand as you aim for the Devil’s jugular. He grabs your wrist with one hand, the other gripping your throat in a vice grip. Even as you lose oxygen, you fight back. You will never stop fighting back. You shake with effort as you push against his hand, but you’re gaining ground.

A black and red tendril of smoke grabs the Devil’s wrist, wrenching his hand away. The shard of glass goes clean through his skin, through his artery, until the pointed tip is caressing his spine.

He sputters up at you with wide eyes, choking on blood. It stains the white of your costume. Stains your skin. Stains the table. His hold on your neck loosens.

You lean down to his ear. “Our deal is over.”

Blood gurgles in his throat as he tries to protest, to argue, to get the last word in.

His hand falls from your throat, hanging limply off the side of the throne. The life drains from his eyes.

The room is still. Bodies lay across the floor. Some lean over the table. Chips and cards are scattered everywhere.

Luke and Kieran disappear down the hall, taking care of the rest of the security that would prevent your escape. Sylus steps over the carnage as he rounds the table. You slowly let go of the glass, not bothering to hide your wince as tiny fragments imbed themselves in your flesh. He wordlessly helps you stand from the dead man’s lap, hands becoming stained with the same blood that covers you.

You finally meet his eyes. And it’s you. The pain and anger and hatred in your eyes is too real, too genuine, to be faked by a puppet master. He brushes the blood splatter off your face with the back of his fingers. You lean into the touch without hesitation.

“Are you alright?” he asks, voice soft.

You take a deep breath in and release it through your nose. You slowly nod.

“The car’s waiting outside.”

You take a step forward. Your knees give out underneath you. Sylus catches you before you can hit the ground. You hiss in pain as you grab onto him with your injured hand by pure instinct. Your body is still trying to recover from the torture, from the sleep deprivation, from being under someone else’s relentless control for so long. He effortlessly lifts you into his arms.

“You can rest now,” he whispers against your hair. You can feel the rumble of each word deep within his chest. It calls to you, encouraging you to let go. You give in willingly this time, holding onto his shirt even as your blood seeps into the expensive fabric, and close your eyes with your ear pressed to his heart.

You look so small and fragile in his arms. He glances at the miserable man in his gilded throne. If you hadn’t already killed him, he would have delighted in torturing him the same way they’d done to you.

The hallway feels shorter as he carries you out of the building. His Evol lashes out at anybody that tries to stop him that the twins missed; footmen who flood in from the side doors. The club is devoid of patrons by the time he passes through the door at the end of the hall. Dancers panic as they hold each other, free from the same power that controlled you minutes prior. Luke holds open the front door. Kieran holds open the rear passenger side door. The car pulls away from the curb minutes before police arrive.

You wake up in agony.

Your shoulder blades are the worst. Excruciating pain pulses into your muscles from the injuries left behind from the alligator clamps that pumped electricity into your body. You’re laying on your stomach to avoid making it worse. It doesn’t feel like it can get worse.

You force yourself up onto your hands and knees, your body screaming at you to get away. You can’t see where you are through silent tears that plop on the pillow you were just using.

“Kitten,” Sylus quietly calls out. You recognize his hands on your sides as he gently lowers you back down to your stomach. You sob into the pillow. “Stay still. I’ll be back in a minute.”

You clutch at the covers and pillows until your knuckles are white. A bandage is wrapped around your hand. Blood begins to seep through it.

The bed dips beside you when he gets back. Cool cloths are draped over your back, tamping down the burning temporarily. You sigh with relief. As your fingers relax, Sylus takes your damaged hand and begins unwrapping the stained bandage. His touch is tender, careful not to hurt you further.

“Tell me the next time you intend to settle a debt.” Despite how careful he is to make his voice sound neutral and unbothered, it’s edged with genuine worry and care.

You nod slightly.

With the bandage removed, you can see through your blurry vision the telltale sign of stitches pulling your skin closed along the width of your palm. A couple of them are snapped, but there are still enough in place that fixing it now would bring more pain than necessary. His hands don’t falter as he wraps fresh gauze around the agitated wound.

“I’m sorry…” You don’t need to look to know his red eyes are trained on your face. You can tell in the way he pauses, freezing for just a moment right before he starts wrapping your hand in a new bandage. “He wasn’t this… powerful before. Back then, it was my own desperation that caused me to stay, not some fucked up Evol.”

He huffs, remembering the messages that led him to you. “How much did you steal from him?”

You shoot him a disapproving look, knowing immediately just how he got that info, but the quirk of your lips betrays your amusement. “I almost emptied the whole account.”

He chuckles as he tapes the bandage in place. You lay your hand back down on the bed. He brushes some tears from your cheek. For you to let your guard down around him so freely, especially after what you went through… “Where else are you hurt?”

“Bumped my head, but it’s not so bad anymore,” you assure him. It wouldn’t be good business to have your prized dancer covered in bruises and welts. The wings of your costume had hid the damage to your back pretty well. Besides, nobody was looking at your back when you sang anyway. Your neck had some bruising from the final confrontation. It would fade with time.

The bed shifts again as he stands up. You can see him disappear into the bathroom out of the corner of your eye. From a window right nearby, a familiar black shape swoops in. Mephisto wastes no time in cuddling up to your cheek, tucking his body by your neck. His beak nips gently at your ear and cheeks while he makes a strange cooing noise.

You smile, closing your eyes and basking in his affections. “Hello, Mephie. I missed you, too.” He clicks his beak and bites the corner of your lips. “I’ll tell you where I go next time, too, okay?” Seeming to approve your promise, he starts preening your hair.

“You’re going to wear your voice out if you keep talking so much,” Sylus teases. He sets a glass of water on the nightstand and sets two pills beside it. They’re not regular over the counter pain meds; these are definitely heavier duty.

You look up at him sadly. He catches your meaning in an instant. You want your voice to run raw, until speaking hurts too much. You’ve spoken so much the last few days against your will, you need to remember how to shut up again, need to remember the pain of talking.

Mephisto complains as Sylus slowly helps you into a sitting position, fluffing up against the pillow as he watches on impatiently. The cloths fall from your back. He sets them aside once he’s sure you won’t fall over. You hold the pills in your mouth as you take a sip of the water, closing your eyes and focusing on swallowing everything without gagging. You drain half of the glass after with a sigh.

He takes the glass and helps you lay back down. The cloths are replaced on your burns.

“You should get some more rest,” he says. Mephisto picks at the fine hairs on the back of your neck, continuing his preening. “It’ll be easier to sleep this off.”

You pat the bed next to you with your good hand, giving him a pointed, questioning look. He leans down and places a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“How could I say no to you?”

You watch as he undresses and puts on something more comfortable to sleep in. You flip your head over when he crawls in beside you. He lays on his side, hand gently tracing your cheek and jaw. He watched the movement. Your hand glides up his arm to put a stop to his restlessness. Crimson eyes meet yours.

You smile. The motion captures his attention. You drag your fingers lightly along his arm, up his shoulder, and to his cheek. His skin prickles everywhere you touch. A red-hot possessiveness wells inside him, desperate for him to be the only person to experience you like this, mixing with fear that he may never know exactly what they used you for before his arrival. And… something softer, full of longing. A desire to keep you safe, to ensure you never have to be afraid with him.

He leans forward with very little coaxing, capturing your mouth like it will redeem him of every sin he’s ever committed. It’s reverent, full of silent worship. Your lips tremble. He cups your cheek as he kisses you again and again and again.

This will never happen again.

You sigh into his mouth, pure relief stealing the tension from your body.

I know.

---

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