#I think everything came crashing down on him all at once

[thesaintofnevergettingitright]

Wait. Hold on. I just finished my second watch of season two and I have a theory…

I think Aziraphale knew he fucked up before he ever got on that elevator.

HEAR ME OUT!

I think the moment that he heard that his big project would be the Second Coming, he instantly realized Crowley was right. As soon as the Metatron mentions the Second Coming, Aziraphale looks directly to Crowley with what I think is very-well-concealed panic. I don’t think that was a wistful gaze at what-might’ve-been. I think that was an instinctive entreaty for help from the person he trusts most in the world, followed by the immediate realization that he can’t ask for Crowley for help without letting the Metatron know something’s wrong.

Because Aziraphale KNOWS that the Second Coming is just a different flavor of Armageddon, it’s literally the rapture. There’s no planet where our boy has changed so much that he’d be willing to bring about the end of humanity, and the fact that he didn’t object to the idea instantly is important. To me, it means that Aziraphale must’ve made a split-second decision to play along. He didn’t have time to tell Crowley what was wrong, and even if he could’ve, he didn’t have enough information to put a stop to it.

Basically, I think that in the moments after the Metatron mentioned the Second Coming Aziraphale realized several things in quick succession

Crowley was right.

He and Crowley were going to have to save the world again.

If they were going to stop another apocalypse, they needed to know what they were up against.

The only way to know was to have a man on the inside.

There wasn’t time to tell Crowley any of it.

Now the question is, how does Aziraphale let Crowley know what’s going on?? Because he can’t stop Armageddon 2 (Electric Bugaloo) by himself.

#good omens #mine #good omens 2 #Crowley #Aziraphale #cuz look y’all… the angel didn’t start fake smiling until AFTER the Setting Coming was mentioned #before that he seemed ok with showing the Metatron that he was upset #But after it suddenly seemed like his mask was more important #and he doesn’t look back at Crowley until after either #I think everything came crashing down on him all at once #and couldn’t do a thing about it #it’s also the only explanation I can come up with for him not immediately objecting to the idea of the second coming #even if he were trying to regain heavens favor he wouldn’t stand by and let someone suggest killing all humans #so either he’s faking it #or coffee theory is real #(and I don’t think coffee theory is real) #and like! It makes sense! #cuz the only reason they were able to work against the first Armageddon was because Crowley was playing inside man #so it only makes sense that they need an inside man for this one too! #so Aziraphale NEEDS to be back in heavens good graces

[tired-biscuit]

okay but imagine werewolf best friend kiba who has wanted and loved you for years. who has pined and craved and fucked a pair of your underwear and chased off so many 'rivals' behind your back.

imagine going away for college and reconnecting. maybe you go camping. maybe you trigger his rut earlier because he's wanted you for so fucking long that it can't be contained. him at the entrance, unzipping it, crawling over you, waking you up with his head between your legs and begging for you to 'help him out'. for 'just the tip'

but it ends up with him knotting and breeding you and you wake up with his mark on your shoulder and he's already pawing at you again

Finding peace in the spontaneous wild (that is you)

18+ MDNI, fem!reader/werewolf!bsf!kiba

premise: when an accidental encounter with your former childhood best friend leads you to agree to a one-night camping trip consisting of just you two, you discover that there’s more to your friendship than initially meets the eye.

cw: monsterfucking (he's mostly in his human form, though), knotting, creampie, implied breeding, mounting, size difference, omegaverse themes.

college/modern AU. friends to lovers, one bed trope (kind of, they’re sharing sleeping bags in the same tent), unestablished mating bond, mutual pining, lots of bickering and misunderstandings; they get into one big fight (kiba and reader are polar opposites personality-wise and tend to agree to disagree), usage of sweetheart and bunny as pet names for reader. i think that's everything?

wc: 26.2k

find part two here!

———

You run into Kiba at the grocery store, around two weeks after returning home from college.

It’s completely coincidental; neither of you expects it to happen. You catch him standing next to the fruit section, picking the best-looking oranges out of the bunch with slightly pinched eyebrows and narrowed eyes, and before you can even ready yourself to approach him, he already beats you to it.

He blinds you with his grin despite the distance between you as you raise your hand to wave him over. A single dimple that you were already expecting appears in his right cheek. His smile is toothy and friendly; nostalgic. It throws you back to a much simpler time.

After all, you’ve known each other for years — you and Kiba go way back. Back to when your only concern had been what cartoons to watch, and the urgency to come back home well before it got dark outside was a rule set in stone. 

Back then, the world seemed to be splashed with brighter, more vibrant colours than it is now. A sugar rush was the best thing to ever happen to you before you came crashing down twice as hard, and your mother had called you downstairs for breakfast every single morning before ruffling your hair and rushing off to work. 

Now, you’re happy if you get the chance to FaceTime with her once or twice a week while you’re away at college. Your hair certainly doesn’t get ruffled anymore and you make breakfast yourself.

Even the trees in your neighborhood have changed, no longer appearing as tall as they used to be because, well, back then you were the smaller one. The sidewalk on your street was sizzling hot with summer heat, but now it's getting worse each year, and your feet aren’t bare anymore as you walk on it; no longer trekking the familiar route that would lead you to the house of the very boy, who now stands before you in the middle of the grocery store instead of leaning against the open doorway of his childhood home, impatiently waiting to pull you inside.

You used to spend nearly every single day with him. Going on adventures with your bikes — you with your helmet on, him without — until your legs were aching from pedaling so much had become a daily thing of sorts. Constantly coming up with new ways to entertain your never-satisfied, highly imaginative kid brains was a favoured pastime. Wearing scrapes of all shapes and sizes on your knees and palms like they were badges of honor was a thing to be expected. 

But that’s all gone now.

Because now, you’re both adults. Juggling jobs and degrees — well, at least one of you is, not that you’re surprised in any way that Kiba hasn’t chosen to try his hand at college — and all that other crap that consists of time-consuming responsibilities that can be quite pesky and bothersome, but make your lives easier to live nonetheless. 

It feels like an aeon has passed as a result. Like your childhood had been whisked away from you by neither of you ever realizing it until it was far too late. So, you’ve drifted apart. It tends to happen. 

Come to think of it, when was the last time you’d seen your trusted partner in crime? Three years ago? Or has it been four already? You’re unsure.

All you know is that it’s been long. Too long. College feels like it’s been nothing but a rather confusing blur, to say the least.

But so does Kiba.

And so do you.

You’ve both become utterly indecipherable in each other’s eyes. Like foggy glass on a rainy morning.

So you use a couple of moments to merely look at each other because of it; to wipe the condensation off the glass with the sleeves of your phantom sweaters. Him, with those goddamn oranges that he’s still holding in his too-big hands, and you, with your shopping cart that you forgot back at the end of aisle 7 twice already. 

You stare and stare and stare, all until your burning curiosity finally gets the best of you, and you can’t help but invite him to approach you with a not at all subtle aim to appease it. 

Kiba visibly perks up when you wave him over. He shoves the oranges into a reusable bag that his mom had always nagged him about using, and walks over with that confident stride you’d always envied him for having. 

And then all of a sudden he’s right there, in the flesh. Looking the same as he’d always looked, but also not at all.

It’s weird. His smile is the same but the face that surrounds it has changed. Finding yourself in his presence again after a period that you’d describe nothing short of a small eternity, you realize that even if the grin of your childhood best friend is an exact replica of his old one, everything else has either faded away or been replaced by something new.

And new means foreign.

Because as you tip your head slightly upwards to initiate proper eye contact this time, you realize that Kiba has gotten taller. Way taller. Even with his posture relaxed, he towers above you with no effort; something he didn’t get to do back when you’d been nothing but a pair of runts, practically conjoined at the hip.

And that’s not all there is to it. Besides his impressive height, Kiba has also become broader in the shoulders and longer in the legs since you’ve last seen him. He has a sleeve of insanely intricate tattoos covering nearly the entirety of his left arm; it reaches up to the short sleeve of his light-grey tee and probably up to his shoulder. He’s also lost most of his baby fat, and thus now owns a face more defined than you ever recall it being. 

His mop of hair is mostly hidden by the faded baseball cap that he must have put on to fight the summer heat that’s raging outside, however there are still a couple of rogue curls peeking out at the sides and at the nape of his neck. The brim has softened from how old the cap is, not as bent downwards at the corners as it surely used to be ages ago, but at least it still gets the job done. 

He’s always had a habit of being lazy whenever it came to getting haircuts. It seems like some things did manage to stay the same, after all.

You investigate further. As far as differences go, the edge of Kiba’s jawline is sharp instead of round, and his cheeks look smooth to the touch. He’s clean-shaven; the embarrassing peach fuzz days, which you used to tease him about for months on end, have ended. 

He’s a grown man. A pretty darn healthy, vigorous one, it seems.

And speaking of being healthy, you remember a time when he wasn’t.

———

You’re fourteen again and find yourself back in a rather familiar bedroom.

The air inside the room smells warm, like wood and your second home. The sounds of the house are just the way you remember them being. 

There’s someone talking downstairs. Furniture cracks and snaps as it settles in even if it’s old and has had more than enough time to do so already. Dog claws ceaselessly click against the floor. The TV is on. You can hear the weather forecast for tomorrow if you strain your ears hard enough. 

And then there’s the shallow breathing.

Oh, yeah. Right. 

Kiba’s sick. 

Your smile wavers as you keep sitting on the edge of the bed, his bed, that you’d fallen asleep in a rather embarrassing amount of times back when your legs were shorter and it hadn’t been considered awkward or improper just because your best friend belongs to the opposite sex.

The sheets are a tacky design of light blue and white and the mattress is old, but sturdy enough to not cause any worry of having to buy a new one just yet. It supports both his and your own weight fairly well, however it won’t be able to do so for much longer, you think.

You turn your head towards the window. It’s fall and it’s raining outside — the heavy raindrops rattle against the glass every so often whenever the wind catches them, making you stare out at the foggy grayness that sluggishly spirals on the other side.

You’ve left your boots downstairs. In the hallway, where Tsume, Kiba’s mother, had greeted you and ushered you inside the moment you’d come knocking on her front door, looking soaking wet to the bone. Besides your boots, your bright yellow raincoat resides there as well, probably dripping from the hanger onto the floor, making a puddle you’ll have to feverishly apologize for later.

With your train of thought coming to a halt, you eventually grow tired of watching the nearby woods that reside next to the Inuzuka household. So you shift your gaze again. 

This time, you focus on the room itself. There are posters taped to the walls, the majority of them depicting movies and rock bands that you’ve never really fancied yourself all that much. The desk is littered with clutter, most of it school-related but you’re able to spot a couple of comics in there as well. The alarm clock on the nightstand is digital; it shows the time. 

3:27 PM.

It’s a Thursday afternoon, but it’s also the fourth day that Kiba hasn’t come to school. The seat in the classroom that he usually sits in remains empty — you know that because you keep it reserved for him by placing your backpack on it each morning. He’s been absent ever since the pain in his limbs and the unyielding fever had become too much for even him to handle; the boy who just loves to brag about never getting sick. 

All right, you’ve got to cut him some slack because in some way, he isn’t even actually sick? His growth spurt — and his entire puberty experience overall, if you could even call it that — is the thing that has taken such a toll on him, not actual illness.

And in some way, it has taken a toll on you, too. Seeing him ache hurts you just the same, even if your bones aren’t the ones that are currently growing much too fast, much too soon.

So here you are, bringing him copies of the notes that you’ve been religiously taking in class for the fourth day in a row. Keeping him company. Wiping the sweat off his forehead with a rag soaked in water, like a good best friend. Over and over again. Without stop.

His dark brown hair is damp from all the water and sweat, it sticks to his temples. He’s burning up, to the point that his face is flushed pink instead of tan, but he’s still shivering all over underneath the covers. 

Your heart hurts as you watch him endure such profound agony; it makes your chest squeeze tight. He’s clearly fallen ill in some shape or form and is in obvious pain, but no matter what you tell him, he simply refuses to go to the doctor’s office.

Truth be told, you feel rather surprised that his mom hasn’t dragged him there herself yet. Taking into account that she’s usually completely unfazed by his overwhelmingly stubborn nature, you’d expected her to not be taking any shit from her son whatsoever and would be firmly setting her foot down when it came to anything concerning his health. Granted, while he did inherit most of his obstinate qualities from her side of the family, the fact that—

“Stop worryin’ so much.”

You blink in surprise. “Mm?”

“I said stop worryin’.”

The feeble request that Kiba makes sounds firmer this time. It makes you look up from the rag you’ve been subconsciously clutching in your hands with a near death grip for the last five minutes or so. 

The slightly tingly feeling that dances within them now is somewhat hard to ignore. Especially at the tips of your fingers.

So you rest your hands on your lap, rubbing your palms up and down your jeans just to have something to do now that they’re empty. By the time you finally will yourself to turn your head, Kiba is already looking at you from the confines of the cozy prison that is his bed. 

His eyes are nearly half shut, eyelids heavy with lead-weighted exhaustion, but his expression is riddled with an emotion you’re not mature enough yet to fully decipher, much less understand.

Not that you’d ever tell him that, but you'd always considered him as the emotionally smarter one of your little duo; even with his awfully short temper taken into consideration. 

After all, while you excelled in academics, Kiba sought different places to thrive and prosper in. It didn’t take a genius to see that he’s practically been made to communicate with others; that he’s a proper people person. Shaped by people to be loved by people.

And the people do tend to love him. They really do.

Now that you think about it, that may also be the reason as to why he has way more friends than you. Why he can usually turn most situations to his favour, while you normally struggle to avoid the worst of outcomes. Why he knows how to read you like an open book Every. Single. Time, while you just play a never-ending guessing game of what’s happening inside that thick skull of his.

You’re an odd pair together. He’s nothing like you and you’re nothing like him. It’s no wonder that some don’t believe you’re actual friends at first, however Kiba has always been fast to prove them wrong. For some unknown reason, he’s attached you to himself and has been pulling you along for the ride ever since the day he first saw you. It’s been like that ever since.

Meanwhile, you’re just happy that you have someone to spend time with. Being so introverted proves to be quite a nuisance whenever it comes to meeting new people and acquiring friends, so he’s pretty much all you’ve got.

And that makes you care for him even more.

“How on earth am I supposed to ‘not worry’,” you begin to say quietly, making air quotes, “when my best friend has been practically chained to his bed for the last four days?”

Immediately, Kiba brushes you off with a flick of the wrist, gesturing that he thinks you’re overreacting. It pisses you off greatly, especially when he says, “Oh, please… I’m fine. You just worry too much.”

“Are you, though?” you ask. “Fine?”

“Are you?”

You exhale through your nose as you attempt to relax and wiggle your fingers, trying to appease him or convince him otherwise, you don’t know. 

The truth is, you want to tell him that no, you’re not fine. You want to tell him that you are worried sick for him because he is sick and won’t admit it. You want to tell him that you love him, that you care about him. Not in that kind of way, of course — goodness, no! — but in a way a young teenage girl who doesn’t know any better can love her best friend.

But instead, all you do is stay quiet because being considerate of others is your go-to. Besides, his headache is as bad enough as it is already. Who are you to make it worse by troubling him with your nonsense?

Unfortunately for you, Kiba doesn’t buy your rather bad portrayal of calm. All he does is sigh at it.

Continuously.

“What? What are you sighing for so much?” you instantly snap at the sound and aura of exasperation he emits, now. Your tone is razor sharp, much sharper than it needs to be, but you just can’t help yourself. Being so different from you, he can be outright infuriating sometimes.

“Nothin’,” he answers back, and yet he can’t resist giving you that look that definitely means there is something. “It’s nothin’, bunny.”

Your tone falls flat at the nickname he’s given you because of your rather timid personality, “Liar.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

He grunts, sighing again. “Oh, c’mon—”

“What?” you quip again. “You told me not to worry, so here I am; not worrying! I’m doing just like you’ve said.” 

The small wrinkle that��s etched itself between your brows deepens as the words rush out of you in one great swoop. It’s clear to you both that you don’t really mean them, but it looks like there’s definitely no sign of you admitting them coming any time soon.

“Fine, whatever.” Kiba almost sounds like he’s grumbling as he says, “You’re not worrying. There. Happy?”

You scoff. “No? Yes? I don’t know if I’m happy!”

He manages a weak smile at your indecisiveness, a mere quirk of an upper lip that’s not nearly as lively as it normally would be if he weren’t so sick. Your body tenses as he shuffles closer to the edge of the bed where you reside and nuzzles his face deeper into the pillow, wiping the sweat off his cheek right into the bedding this time around.

His voice comes across as muffled from the way he’s still hiding his face from view when he says, “I can practically see your brain catching on fire from all that worry that you’re apparently ‘not’ feeling, ya know.”

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling back as far as they’ll go. They just do it completely on their own accord whenever you’re with him, it seems. “And how can you possibly—”

He points at you with one tired hand and winces at how terribly heavy his arm feels with the action. It’s unpleasant and draining, but he wants to prove a point. So he keeps it nice and steady as he says, “Look, there’s smoke comin’ outta your ears already! You better chill out, or that lil’ pea brain of yours is gonna get burnt to a crisp or somethin’.”

He hisses like he’s just burnt himself after he teases you, drawing yet another scoff out of you. 

A pout graces your lips as you glare at him from underneath your lashes; ever the unexpected drama queen. “Well, at least I have a brain to burn, unlike yourself.”

His eyes settle on you again. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, dummy,” you say. “I can bet you five bucks that there’s nothing but hay stored inside that freakishly big head of yours!”

“I—” He bristles at your comment before his eyes open wide and he scowls. “Shut up! My head ain’t big!”

Your expression mirrors his own, now. “No, you shut up!”

“You can’t talk to me like that; I’m sick!”

“So you finally admit that you’re actually sick, huh?”

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant—”

“Nu-uh, you said it so you meant it!”

Everything is quiet as you lean forward to point and dig an accusatory finger into his chest. He tenses but relaxes in a beat of a moment as the remaining pads of your fingers join in and graze the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt. Swipe to the right, then slightly upwards, the flat of your palm rests above the place where his heart lies.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump! 

His heartbeat is fast. Strong. Like a song that makes you want to scream the lyrics to instead of singing them so that you can feel it better inside the marrow of your bones.

But you don’t feel like listening right now.

“Hey, what’re you—”

He squirms and lets out a small noise of surprise when you suddenly jab him in the ribs.

Exchanging a quick look of betrayal with your best friend as he slaps your hand away, you feel your lips start to quiver. It’s not long before you both succumb and break into a fit of quiet laughter. The tension gradually dissipates with every chuckle and snicker, right along with your worries. At least for a little while, that is.

Kiba’s laugh cracks midway. You’re unsure if it’s because of the fact that he’s not feeling well or because his voice is just getting deeper with age, however you’re still giggling by the time he clears his throat and reaches over to place his hand on top of your own.

Your eyes instinctively flit towards the contact. It’s not anything new, you’ve held hands with him before — god knows you’ve gotten fake-married on at least three different occasions throughout your childhood, and with three different flavoured ring pops, at that — but as you now gaze at the blunt crescents of his nails, you can’t for the life of you remember his hand ever being this hot to the touch.

It’s concerning.

“Dude,” you whisper, your voice slowly dropping from playful to wary. “I don’t want to nag you about it anymore since I know you don’t like it, but I seriously think that you should go see a doctor… You’re burning up and it’s probably—”

You twitch as Kiba gives your hand a gentle, albeit unexpected squeeze to make you look up at him again. 

Just like your voice, his expression has switched from his previously boyish one, to a much more somber kind that, truth be told, you’re not used to seeing on his face all that much.

It makes your sentence, well, rambling, gradually fade into silence as you finally indulge him for once by keeping your mouth shut. He used to think you were quiet back when he’d met you. Now he knows that you just have to get comfortable in order to start speaking.

Shadows from the swaying branches outside dance across the side of his face that he hasn’t got buried in the pillow. Looking like he’s contemplating something heavy, Kiba swallows the saliva that’s gathered in his mouth whilst he runs his thumb along your knuckles.

The brief attempt at soothing you manages to bring a smidge of peace to the otherwise growing hurricane of emotions that’s steadily whirling somewhere inside your ribcage, however it’s over much too soon to actually make any difference.

Your look of concern only worsens as a result. Concentrating hard, you manage to repress the sudden urge to start biting your nails and tugging on the sleeves of your cream-coloured sweater that you’ve put on this morning.

“I’m just worried about you, is all,” you admit what he already knows, so quietly that you doubt if he can even hear it. “I just want you to get better.”

“I know,” is all he says. He can smell it on you.

“Then why won’t you—” You squeeze your eyes shut, groaning with irritation. “Gosh, why won’t you just do something about it, then?”

“Because I have to tell you something first,” he trails off somewhat reluctantly, and for once, he sounds like he’s actually being completely serious. “You just… you gotta promise me that you won’t tell anybody.”

Your reply comes quicker than one sequence of his heartbeat, “I promise. Besides, who would I tell anyway?”

“I mean it,” he says. You watch as he shakes his head slowly, sighing for real this time, not just to annoy you. “You seriously can’t tell anybody; not even your mom or Sakura or Ino. Especially Ino, for that matter.”

Offence bubbles within your chest way too fast at the merest hint of distrust. Since when did he start thinking you were one to yap out every little thing he tells you? 

“And I really mean it, too,” you fuss, brow wrinkling. “Jeez, Kiba; if I promise you that I’m not going to tell, then I’m really not going to tell! I’m not that close with Ino and Sakura anyway.”

Kiba blinks, seemingly surprised by how heatedly invested you’ve gotten into learning his secret. But also by how close you’ve managed to squeeze yourself next to him with the upset feelings to overwhelm you, briefly forgetting the lengthy speech about how he should go see a doctor. How you wait, evidently impatient and with bated breath, just so that you’d be able to hear every word he has to say.

He’s been seeing you in a different kind of light as of late. So perhaps it’s time that he shed some of it on himself now.

He’s always been one to love the spotlight, after all.

———

“Well, well, well… do my eyes deceive me, or have you finally gotten taller, wolf boy?”

The short laugh Kiba lets out at your innocent taunt doesn’t crack like it did back when you were fourteen. Instead, it’s deep and hearty; it reverberates deep inside his chest, sounding like a voice a storm would possess if it had the ability to speak the human tongue.

“Still insisting on that ol’ nickname?” he asks as he rests one hand on his hip.

“Of course,” you reply, chuckling. It’s hard to take him seriously when he looks like a nearly perfect replica of his mother in that exact moment; standing so disapprovingly, red shopping basket in hand. “I mean, who would I be if I did not make fun of you every chance I get?”

“Well, I dunno,” he mumbles whilst his eyes flick up towards the ceiling, seemingly searching for something. And then he looks at you again, but this time with that infuriating half-smile that you can’t say you’ve missed as he says, “A decent fuckin’ person for a change? Maybe?”

It’s light-hearted, what he says. Fun and provocative, just like he is. Like he’s always been.

So you bite.

“Oh, Kiba, Kiba, Kiba,” you purr, angling your head to one side playfully whilst clicking your tongue against your teeth. Your hand presses against his chest, the action so familiar it’s become muscle memory by now even after years of not initiating it. “When has being decent ever been fun to someone like you, mm?”

And there it is. The strong heartbeat corresponding to the soft lilt that appears in your voice when his name leaves your lips. Just like it’s always done whenever your only goal was to fluster him for ‘funsies’.

However, the interaction that was once so familiar to you is not quite as recognizable this time around.

Because now, it invites his gaze to settle back onto your face rather than pushing it away into the corner of the room. 

So he stares at you now. Leers. 

You try your best to ignore the way your muscles instinctively stiffen at the sight of the prolonged slits that slowly switch places with his pupils. Try your best to pay no mind to the way your pulse suddenly accelerates, pumping blood and forcing all of your senses to become overwhelmingly acute.

It’s done so fast that it makes you feel sort of dizzy. He stands straighter and every single hair on your body stands to attention in return. Goosebumps cover your skin the same moment as it starts feeling like it’s being pulled taut over your bones. You try to blame the sensation of a chill creeping up the back of your neck on the store’s AC but you know better.

The people who surround you don’t matter anymore. This summer’s hit song that annoyingly keeps on playing on repeat over the speakers above your heads has turned to white noise. 

It’s just him and you and you and him. Past, present, future.

And fuck, his irises are no longer brown. They’re darker; golden, almost unnaturally yellow. The colour gets eaten up fast as the pupils expand and shrink continuously. He zeroes in on you, on your mouth, on the curve of your face, on the bare side of your neck that you’ve got exposed with your ponytail and the tilt of your head. 

It’s been years since he’s last looked at you like that; that one time before you ran off to college, when you took it a step too far with the innocent flirting and you’ve almost come too close for comfort. 

But unlike before, he simply refuses to tear his eyes off of you this time. Refuses to relent. Refuses to blush and turn away in that sheepish way that is so uncharacteristic for an exceptionally, sometimes annoyingly bold person like him and that reminds you more of yourself.

His odd persistence causes him to pin you down with a single look, making you freeze on the spot.

Just like a predator would do to potential prey.

But that’s silly. You’re not prey! You’re his best friend, or well, you used to be once in a time long past. So keeping that in mind, you force yourself to quickly shake the eerie feeling off of your suddenly tense body as if it’s a heavy winter’s coat you’ve foolishly donned on, and ease the sudden tightness that tries so hard to take up residency within your chest, now.

But despite all of the attempts at self-soothing, as well as the countless comforting, reassuring mantras that you keep on playing on a loop inside your head in the same way you do a newly-discovered song on Spotify, you don’t really know what he’s like anymore, now do you? 

You haven’t seen him in years, after all. Haven’t spoken to him in ages. You left him all alone, left him to his own devices after he’d given you the same look he’s giving you now.

What if he’s managed to become more wolf than human with all that alone time?

The question makes your head want to hurt, so it’s no wonder that your voice comes out somewhat small-sounding when you finally gather yourself just enough to murmur, “You’re doing the thing again.”

And his sounds just a smidge on edge, just a smidge too sharp as he takes a step closer and mutters, “Thing? What thing?”

“You’ve got, uh… y’know…” You swallow audibly and try not to pay attention to the way his gaze slides down to your throat because of it; to the way it softly bobs as the sticky spit travels down, down, down. You swear that you can see the corners of his lips kick up at the sight of it. “You’ve got nightmare eyes.”

“Huh?” It takes him a second to realize what you mean. To remember one of the old codes you’ve come up with using whenever you’re in public, amongst people who certainly don’t know what he truly is. 

And then, at long last, the intensity in his expression ceases and brightens up as the realization dawns upon him. It’s like a lightbulb turning on with the flick of a switch. 

“Oh. Shit. Fuck, umm,” he curses like a sailor whenever he’s caught off-guard. It makes you relax just the tiniest bit as he finally musters a genuine, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even… notice.”

You watch as he proceeds to rub his eyes with one hand, all whilst you exhale a long puff of air that you’d almost forgotten you were holding in the first place. 

He looks at you again, genuinely confused and apologetic, and this time with pupils back to their regular circular shape. It causes some primal sort of relief that reaches the very core of your psyche to wash over you.

You’re free to move again. 

“It’s— Hah, it’s fine,” you manage weakly. “Besides a pretty awkward start to a conversation, it’s no biggie, really.”

“Fine? It definitely ain’t fine,” he retorts immediately. “You wouldn’t be lookin’ like you’re scared shitless right now if it were fine.”

“Me? Scared of you? Oh, please!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest even if your limbs feel very wobbly and soft like jelly all of a sudden. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He blinks again, his look a slightly incredulous one. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

The bridge of your nose scrunches up in mild confusion as you ask, “Forgot what?”

Kiba grumbles this time, pointing to his own nose, “Uh, the fact that I can literally smell the fear on ya…?”

Oh. Oh! He’s right, you somehow did manage to forget that; forget his ability to smell how someone is feeling just from the way their hormone levels change the very base of their scent and the sweat they exude as a result. Or whatever the science behind it is.

Jesus fucking Christ. Him and his stupid wolf genes. What’s next, him pinpointing the day when your next period is due?

As if that hasn’t happened before.

“Wha—...? Of course not! Tsch.” You try to play it off with a click of a tongue that doesn’t manage to convince either of you. “What I don’t remember, however, is giving you permission to sniff me like some sleazy creep.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he bristles immediately at the remark. “You know damn well what I meant.”

You nod. “Yes, that you’re a sleazy creep.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” he asks. “Stop breathing around your presence?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He gives you a pointed glare. “It also wouldn’t hurt to try shutting the fuck up every once in a while, and yet here you are.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I’ve also managed to forget what a prick you are.”

“Right back atcha.”

You both share a short laugh at your little faux quarrel, the tension slowly relenting. The entire interaction is familiar. 

His shoulders relax, your heartbeat slows down to something a bit more normal. He doesn’t point it out just for the sake of not starting yet another petty argument.

“But seriously, don’t worry about it.” You pause at some point, stifling another brittle chuckle that bubbles up your throat. “I know you can’t control your weird, spooky eyes, okay? And besides, I’m used to them anyway! Well, kind of… I guess I’m used to them…? Gosh, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Is it because you’re nervous?

“Still,” he chides, sighing. “It’s been years and I should’ve learned how to fix it by now. It’s just—” He takes a breath. Ponders as various excuses and half-truths start bouncing off the walls inside his head. “It’s just that I dunno how to control it whenever you’re… umm...”

You give him a second, but when he doesn’t say anything else, you bite the bullet to ask, “Whenever I’m what?”

“Ah, nothin’,” he mumbles whilst scratching his cheek. You narrow your eyes as he fixes the brim of his cap. As he tugs on the collar of his thin t-shirt with its stupidly oversized Nike logo. He’s fidgeting all over the place, especially when he feels the need to add, “It’s nothin’.”

It feels like life is repeating itself all over again.

Your curiosity makes you lean further into his space just like you had a habit of doing back when you were kids. Only this time, he doesn’t take your hand. He doesn’t stroke your knuckles one by one, but rather pushes back, creating more space between your bodies.

Well, that’s new.

“C’mon.” Your tone falls slightly flat because of the sudden disappointment that reaches way deeper than you’d expected it to as you ask, “Whenever I’m what?”

He sounds surprisingly stern as he says, “I told you… it’s nothing.”

A long pause ensues. And then all he gets from you is an, “Okay.”

Awkwardness lingers in the air once again. It makes you both uncomfortable because neither of you is really used to the sudden quiet. You’ve gone through so much, so many experiences together and now it’s come to… this? Walking on eggshells around each other until the end of time just because of that one event in the past and now this one?

Fuck no. As if you’re going to let that happen.

So you plaster a smile onto your face, one that doesn’t really reach your eyes just yet as you say, “Just so you know, you’re acting hella weird right now.”

“Well what did you expect, bunny?” He shrugs and you try to act like you don’t notice the way his t-shirt tightens at all the right places with it. Goodness, he’s changed so much in just a couple of years, you can hardly believe it. “I mean, I bump into you after literal years of no contact whatsoever, and when I finally do, all you do is argue with me and call me a, what was it again, ‘sleazy creep’?”

It’s hard not to giggle at the air quotes he feels the need to show you with the two words. It makes your face lighten up as you say, “Stop calling me that.”

“What, bunny?” He smirks, now. Smirks! “Sure. But only after you stop calling me all of your stupid nicknames.”

You muse like a cat. “Why of course, Jacob.”

His expression turns blank in an instant, the smirk gone as quickly as it came. “Seriously?”

“What? It’s just a name, isn’t it?”

“Just so you know, I still regret the day you made me watch Twilight with you.”

“Oh, shush. You loved it, and besides; it was on theme!”

You feel your grin growing into a genuine one as he scoffs and grunts something under his breath in reply. He’s clearly annoyed with all your bullshit.

“Mm?” You blink, the corners of your lips twitching upward, persisting. “What was that?”

“Nothin’.”

“No, no, none of that again. Out with it; I want to hear what you said.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes, the honey that swirls in them as dazzling as ever. So syrupy sweet, his irises are an utter delight even under the unflattering fluorescent lights of the store. “I said that you’re still as insufferable as you used to be back when we were kids.”

The chuckle you let out now is one of pure amusement. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” he says as he pops the P. “A goddamn pain in my ass since day one.”

You quirk a brow. “Am I really, now?”

“Who else but you?”

It’s always been you.

His words spark a sensation of genuine fondness to swell so deep within your ribcage that you’re somewhat unsure of what to do with it. 

Confused, you push it to the side. Sweep it under the rug and allow it to join the already big pile of all the other unrequited feelings you’ve never dared to express. It’s easier to purposefully keep your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

You can’t see when you’re already blind.

“Any-ways,” you sing-song, extending your hand towards him. “It was good seeing you again. We should grab a coffee sometime, if you’re up for it?”

Instead of replying and shaking your hand, Kiba looks down at your polite gesture and nearly starts to frown at the sight of it.

“What?” you ask as the slight wrinkle between his brows continues to deepen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason.” He hesitates a bit then, swallowing hard. It makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I’ve just missed you, is all. This town fucking sucks ass when my girl’s not in it, ya know? And this whole handshake thing you’re doing is weird.”

Fuck. His honesty, the way he calls you his girl, the too-warm look in his too-warm eyes, fucking everything in that wretched moment makes you start feeling dizzy and causes sweat to gather in a layer so thick right on the flat of your awkwardly twitchy palms, one of which you’re still extending towards him.

What you wouldn’t give for a pair of pockets to stuff them into right now.

Because to be completely honest, you’re outright baffled by the reaction that your body throws at you with full force, now. He’s called you the same two words a million times before, alone or in front of other people — it never really mattered. To him, you were always his girl. It was that simple.

And while that did manage to stir up some emotions within you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge yet even back then, you always managed to play it off like it was no big deal. 

But those feelings have gotten stronger now, despite the distance. They’ve gotten potent. To the point where they’re almost deadly.

And they’re also sneaky, like a shadow grazing your back and breathing right at the spot where your neck connects to your shoulder. They gradually build up with each passing second of silence that hangs between you. They take their time to build up on momentum; like an avalanche or an upcoming tsunami. 

And for a moment, just for the shortest of moments, you swear that Kiba can tell.

But luckily for you, he seems to be oblivious about it, or is at least playing it off like he is. And that’s good! The least he can do after cooking up this mess, is save you the embarrassment that you most certainly don’t wish to live through, thank you very much! 

So you do the next best thing that is currently at your disposal. 

You object to his genuine affection like an idiot. 

“Whaaat? You missing me?” Internally cringing at how high your voice is getting in pitch, you’re almost positive that it must hurt his sensitive wolf hearing. However, much to your dismay, you just can’t fucking stop acting weird for some reason. “Pfsh… Didn’t anyone tell you that lying isn’t nice, Inuzuka?”

For fuck’s sake, you’re acting like he’s holding you at gunpoint.

“Uh… Okay? Hah…?” He gives you a look filled to the brim with doubt, his dark brows faintly scrunching together again. “Well, you wanna know what else ain’t nice?”

All you can do is nod. You’re on the verge of killing yourself right here and now.

“Well, how ‘bout,” he pretends to ponder, rubbing his chin. “Oh! How ‘bout forgetting all about your best friend the moment you start attending some fancy, goody two shoes college halfway across the country. Yeah.”

It’s your turn to offer him your best unimpressed stare this time. Your heart feels like it’s stuck inside your throat, pulse rattling behind your teeth. 

You can’t really tell if he’s joking or not. His tone may be light, sure, but you aren’t able to read him as well as you used to back in the day, and even then it was pretty bad.

He’s gotten… complicated.

Much like your entire friendship has.

You can still remember the almost kiss that never happened back at his place that caused this entire flurry of very, very confusing emotions to start in the first place, or at least present themselves at the surface. Right on the night before you’d packed your bags and ran off to the other side of the country, nearly fully ghosting him on the spot. Your best friend.

“C’mon, man,” you mumble, “don’t be like that.” The guilt is bad enough as it is.

“Like what?” he asks. As is regret.

“Don’t hold a grudge like you always do. I’ve come home loads of times between semesters; during the holidays especially,” you hesitantly retort, frowning. “And besides, it’s not like you weren’t gone all the time either. I saw your posts about all the backpacking and all those roadtrips and whatnot... With Tamaki.” 

The mention of his ex-girlfriend catches him off guard. He blinks, flicking his gaze towards the stacked shelves that suddenly seem to become like the most interesting thing in the world.

Goddammit, you’d almost kissed him while— while—

Still, despite all of that, you wait for him to say something first. Patiently, impatiently; you don’t even know anymore.

“I called,” he lamely offers at long last.

“Well, I texted,” you reply in a heartbeat.

“Barely,” he corrects. “You barely texted.”

Your expression falls somber in an instant. Of course he’d paint you as the bad guy as effortlessly as it is to breathe. It’s what cancers are known for. Especially cancer men.

“Well,” you stumble, shrugging. “What did you want me to do, Kiba? I-I mean, you had a girlfriend.”

“So?” 

He doesn’t even ask how you know that they’ve broken up. But to be fair, when you stop posting couple photos on your stories and feed and suddenly unfollow each other, it’s a pretty obvious tell.

“So? So?” You stare at him, taken aback. “I seriously doubt Tamaki would’ve been happy to see some random chick blowing up your phone constantly.”

“But you’re not some random chick. You were my best friend… you still are,” he says and Jesus on a fucking cross, the way he says the words makes him sound so fucking hurt. 

“I know,” is all you can offer. The weight that suddenly sits on your shoulders makes you want to slump. That, or either curling yourself into a ball.

The feeling only gets worse when he says, “We were supposed to go on those trips together.”

“I know,” you repeat. “I’m sorry.”

He fixes the brim of his cap again. “Are ya, though? Sorry?” 

“Yes! Of course I am!” You scowl so hard that it makes the bridge of your nose scrunch up in annoyance. “If I could do something about it, I would. Trust me.”

He looks at you; really looks at you. Up and down. And then he says, “Then do it.”

“Do what?” you ask dumbly.

“Go on a trip with me,” he explains. “Today.”

“Today?”

“Did I fuckin’ stutter?”

You stare at him. He stares right back, gaze unmoving. 

Fucking hell, he’s actually serious about this.

“But I’m… I’m not really a backpacking kind of girl,” you try meekly. 

Just the mere idea of going somewhere remote with him completely alone is making you feel warm all over. You need to get yourself out of this mess ASAP!

“No worries,” he replies faster than a heartbeat. “We can always go camping.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Camping?”

“Yeah. For one night,” he says. “I know a really good spot that I go to all the time.”

“But I–” You fumble once more, looking down at the pretty nail polish on your toes. “I don’t even have the proper clothes for it. Like those fancy gym clothes.”

“Heh.” You attempt to ignore the way his chuckle makes your heart want to jump. Especially as he leans in slightly to say, “All you need is a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Oh, or maybe those grey leggings that you always liked to wear and that make your ass look great… Do you still have those?”

He snickers like a child when you punch him in the shoulder.

“And what about the hiking boots, you perv?” you ask, brushing off his lewd comment with heat creeping up your neck. 

“What about ‘em?”

“I don’t have those either.”

“Christ, we’re not going that far, bunny.” He laughs, looking at you in disbelief. “A pair of sneakers will do. You’re talking and planning like I’m gonna take you all the way up to the mountains like I’m some fuckin’ dragon or some shit.”

Your eyes surely must be getting tired from rolling back so much. “Hilarious.”

He waits on your answer with a smile; the one that shows that wretched dimple in his cheek and that makes him look entirely innocent despite the oddly sharp canine teeth. 

Goddammit, you want to kill him because of how cute he is. However, you’re still feeling slightly unsure about the entire thing. 

Evidently reluctant, you ask, “Just one night?”

“Just one night,” he confirms, nodding vehemently.

“And there isn’t going to be a full moon or anything… of that sort?”

He chuckles at the hidden question. “I wouldn’t really be out here shopping for groceries if there was a chance for that to happen, now would I?”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” you trail off. You glance up at him, not fully convinced yet. “Do you promise that you’ll take care of everything?”

“‘Course,” he says.

“Say it, then.”

“Say what?”

“That you promise.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!”

He sighs at how persistful you are. As if he’s any better! “Fine. I promise that I’ll take care of everything.” 

Even you.

Seconds pass. One second, two, three. Staring at him with both of your brows tightly knit together, you can literally feel his excitement transferring itself to you through some invisible link between you which you’ve never quite managed to sever. You suppose his emotions are just that contagious.

“Well?” he inquires, all giddy-like. “What d’you say?”

“Well,” you trail off, kissing your teeth. “I suppose… a single night can’t really hurt?”

“Fuck, yes!” he exclaims and before you know it, you’re being pulled into a bear hug you didn’t even realize how much you’ve missed until you’re caught in it all over again.

Your cheek smushes against his chest. Muscle memory kicks in once more; persuading your arms to move on their own accord, letting them wrap around the familiar place a little above his waist that doesn’t feel as familiar anymore. 

He smells good, like amber, the very heart of a forest and all things wild. It’s earthy, rich, inhumanly strong. It fills your nose, titillates your senses and makes lush greenery and spices start to take root inside your lungs. 

Every breath makes you dizzier and it’s hard to keep your composure as a result; especially when there’s a sequence of powerful thump, thump, thumps pounding right against your ear, now.

His heartbeat is so fast. It’s like he has two.

You’re silent as you listen to the quick rhythm of his heart. And for a change, so is he. Feeling unsure how much time is passing, you continue to cling onto your best friend in the middle of the empty aisle, reawakening all the memories, warming your body with his heat even if it’s hot enough outside to fry an egg on the concrete. 

The soles of your colourful flip-flops will surely stick to the sidewalk when you walk back home to gather your things and explain your unexpected trip to your parents.

“Kiba—” The last part of his name melds into a giggle from the way he squeezes you so tight that your spine pleasantly cracks in all the places that have been feeling way too stiff from the all-nighters you had to pull during exam week, and progresses into a quiet squeal for help by the time he swings you from side to side like an excited boy would his favourite toy.

“Ugh, m’sorry!” He laughs as he releases you, letting you plant your feet back onto the white tiles where they belong. “I just had to get that outta my goddamn system. It’s been building up for years.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, punching his shoulder again, this time playfully. “I always knew you were secretly a softy.”

The tips of his ears turn pink at that. The blush is not strong enough to be noticed by you, but he feels the warmth, feels the subtle prickling along the back of his neck.

Why is it so intense?

It makes his voice drop lower as he mutters a flustered, “As if.”

“What, I really did!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever… But all jokes aside, I really am glad that you’re back,” he admits before you can beat him to it. He pulls back just enough to look you directly in the eyes and smiles. “I really did miss you a whole lot, bunny.”

It’s hard to be vulnerable and admit that you’ve missed him too, so you keep quiet as you plaster your best smile onto your lips again and reach up to jokingly flick the tip of his nose.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

Perhaps it’ll distract him from the fact that unlike him, you’re as cowardly as they get.

———

“Hey, I meant to ask… How come you didn’t bring Akamaru with you today?”

Some time after bumping into you in the grocery store, Kiba stills for a second at the innocent question you present before him whilst walking the narrow forest path that is supposed to be leading you to your destination.

In the late afternoon hours, the forest feels like it’s alive. There are birds chirping amongst the branches of the trees above your heads and warm sunlight filters through the leaves. A nearby stream keeps busy by smoothing down the rocks inside it. Everything thrives during the summer.

Even the air smells better; like it’s been thoroughly ridden of your town’s signature scent. But despite the fact that you’ve reached the point of summer when dog days are approaching fast, every inhale you take now feels fresh and satisfyingly cool instead of sticky whilst it travels down your airway.

It’s nice to be able to breathe again. 

And as for Kiba, well, he wishes he could say the same.

Following closely behind you, the young werewolf realizes that he is finding it harder and harder to concentrate the further progress you make on your hike. And while there may be plenty of reasons for his lack of focus at the moment, taking the fact that you’ve still got a lot of catching up to do into account, the main one is also the one that concerns him the most.

You just smell so fucking delicious to him, it’s insane.

He wants to devour you.

And how couldn’t he want that? There are phantom strawberries weaved into your hair and clothes from the matching shampoo and body wash set that you must have showered with before leaving your house. Sunscreen sits on your skin, turning the fruity notes even more summery than they already are.

If he walks close enough, he can even smell the sweat that slowly gathers on the back of your neck as you ascend the gradual slope of the hill that he’s planning to set up camp on.

So yeah, it’s hard to stay away, when all your scent does is lure him in. Hard to keep in-check, when you’re practically calling out to him, inviting him to come closer. He’s missed the way you smell so much.

God, if only he could just shove his nose into the crook of your neck and—

“Kiba?”

“Huh?” 

The man in question blinks now, looking up only to find you standing several meters ahead of him; hands glued to your hips and brow quirked. He didn’t even realize that he’d come to a full stop while thinking about certain scenarios he’d rather not say out loud for the sake of your well-being.

“Sorry,” he says before he awkwardly clears his throat and quickens his pace to reach you again. “What did you say? I kinda got sidetracked for a bit there.”

“By what?” You part your lips wider, huffing whilst trying to gather your breath. He looks like he hasn’t even broken a sweat while you’re literally feeling like your lungs are about to collapse any second now. To make matters even worse, he’s also skilfully avoided the pesky tree root that almost made you trip earlier without even as much as glancing at it. 

“You know what, never mind that,” you say, shaking your head. “I just asked why you didn’t bring Akamaru with us today?”

“Oh, umm… Well, ya know; he’s gotten pretty old by now so he can’t really make the trek as effortlessly as he used to,” he starts to explain and you don’t miss the hint of melancholy that overcomes his voice ever so slightly now. “Nowadays I just leave him at my mom’s whenever I go hiking.”

“Oh,” you mutter while wrapping your fingers around the straps of your old backpack which you’ve dug up from the back of your sibling’s closet. Your grip tightens a bit as you add, “I’m sorry about that. I know how much you care about that dog.”

“I mean, it’s not like he’s dead or anything, hah,” he says, his chuckle kind of bitter. “He’s just a senior dog now, doing senior things. Nothing wrong with that, don’tcha think?”

“True,” you mumble, feeling guilty that you’d even asked the question in the first place. I mean, of course his puppy would be old by now. He's had him ever since he was seven, for crying out loud!

“So, anyway,” you say as you turn around to continue your way up the hill you’re practically yearning to reach the top of now, “you just go hiking alone, then? Since Akamaru stays at your mom’s?”

“Mostly, yeah,” he replies as he follows suit. You try not to pay attention to how attentive you are to his presence all of a sudden. “Before, it was usually just me and Tam, but now that—”

You pretend not to notice the way he cuts himself off mid-sentence the moment he accidentally mentions his ex-girlfriend’s name. Pretend that hearing it doesn’t make your chest feel a bit too tight all of a sudden, and not from lack of air or your rather poorly prowess in physical fitness.

“Uh,” he fumbles.

“Don’t you get scared, though?” you continue as if nothing has happened, helping him out. “Hiking all alone?”

If he’s grateful for your assistance, he doesn’t show it, because now he sounds genuinely confused as he says, “What is there to be scared of, exactly?”

His question makes you come to an abrupt stop. You turn your head to the side so that you can look at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘what is there to be scared of’? It’s a forest, Kiba.”

“So?” he replies, sounding even more confused.

“Are you being for real right now?” The blatantly puzzled look that settles onto his face puzzles you just as greatly in return, now. 

Especially when he says, “I’m not entirely sure how you want me to answer that.”

“Well, I don’t know,” you say. “What if there’s, like… a bear, or something?”

He snorts at your idea, making you feel like you’re stupid for even suggesting a thing like that in the first place. 

“What?” you fuss, glaring at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just that there aren’t any bears in these woods, dummy,” he answers, the last word kind despite if it’s usually meant as something derogatory.

You scoff, rolling your eyes for the millionth time today. “And how would you know that, oh, wise, all-knowing one?”

Kiba pauses as he smirks, rather resting his gaze onto a spot somewhere amongst the tree line instead of you. You catch the slight flutter of a muscle in his cheek as he grits his teeth and exhales.

His voice is low, but confident as he finally says, “Because around these parts, sweetheart, I’m the biggest predator. And luckily for us, bears tend to keep to themselves instead of picking fights with something that is much, much bigger than them.”

You’re not entirely sure if you want to know how big he can actually get, nor how far he’s actually able to see with those wolf eyes of his as he keeps on looking off into the greenery. His expression is one of the most complacent ones you’ve seen in a long while. 

Still, you manage just enough bravery to swallow the thick saliva that’s now started to gather inside your mouth so that you can ask, “So you’re saying that you can take a bear in a fight? Like an actual living, breathing bear?”

“I mean,” he drawls, shrugging in such a nonchalant way that it only pisses you off further, “it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your eyes open wide as your heart drops to your fucking ass. “What?! Are you serious?”

“No, I’m joking.”

Dead silence meets him from your side at his bad take on a prank. And Kiba — foolish, brainless Kiba — can’t help but start laughing at the look of pure, unhinged fury that starts to twist your features now. It makes your nostrils outright flare like a bull’s that’s been irked for far too long.

He gets startled when you start stomping towards him, though.

“I’m sorry—” He begins walking backwards to cause more distance between himself and the wrath that is you, laughter still escaping his lips. “I didn’t think that you’d actually—”

You’re too angry at him to notice how good his balance actually is. He doesn’t trip once despite the fact that he’s blindly walking backwards on uneven terrain; much less loses his footing or actually falls over.

His abnormally honed sense of stability only drives you more mad. By the time you finally catch up to him and shove him by pressing both hands against his chest, the startled little yelp he lets out in response is barely satisfying.

“Hey, don’t do that; I’ll fall!”

“Good, because that’s what I was hoping for!”

“Oh, c’mon… Hey!” He comes to a stop, grabbing you by the wrist when you try to strike him for a second time. “I told you I was sorry, didn’t I?”

“Sorry? Sorry? Oh, go fuck yourself, you absolute dick,” you snap at his half-assed apology and are practically gritting your teeth whilst trying not to pay mind to how his touch practically sears your skin. “I hope a bear actually does come into these woods just so it can maul you into a million tiny little pieces!”

“Aha… I’d like to see it try.” His eyes burn like a furnace when he says that. It’s even worse when he yanks on your wrist and pulls you closer, as if to prove a point.

The fire within subdues your own flames in an instant. It makes you lose your edge.

“You— You— Ugh!” The slight upturn of your nose almost comes across as snobbish as you whip your head away from him in one sharp movement and shove him again with your free hand, causing his grip to break free, but not because you want it to. “Go away.”

Watching you with profound amusement, Kiba thinks all your worrying is to die for.

Nothing’s really changed, now has it?

And as a result, the smile in his voice is almost unbearably audible as he hurries after you the moment you start walking again. Your pace has become much faster than it was before, but he has no trouble whatsoever in catching up. 

He’s right behind you as he says, “I was just fucking with you a lil’ bit, can you blame me?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you retort coldly, still not looking at him. “I most definitely can.”

“Christ, don’t be like that, bunny,” he says, nudging you in the shoulder with the help of his palm. 

The touch, mostly platonic and what you’d consider meant to be purely reassuring in nature, nevertheless causes your entire body to end up becoming overly tense instead. This is the second time that goosebumps outright tighten your skin as his fingers slide down and graze your shoulder blade, as well as one of the backpack’s straps before letting go. 

It’s hard to walk the path like a normal person, when every time he touches you feels like he’s leaving you burning in his wake.

“Are we cool now?” he asks when you don’t bother replying. You simply can’t.

“No, we’re not ‘cool’, you moron. Fuck you,” you answer when he nudges you for a second time, still fuming. Better yet, you’re the exact opposite from cool.

“Mm,” he hums, seemingly deep in thought. You think that he’s finally going to leave you alone, however, much to your dismay, not even a minute of quiet passes before he’s opening his mouth again, asking, “Wanna tell me why you’re so mad?”

“Gee, I wonder; maybe because you’ve got me losing my shit in the middle of the goddamn woods?” You scowl at him before pointing your gaze back onto the ground so that you can avoid falling onto your ass at the worst moment. “I mean honestly, how stupid can you get to even ask me that?”

“Well—”

“Don’t answer that!”

“Okay. Okay.” Kiba forces himself to stop the slight, upward curl of his lips at your agitated tone. This is not a laughing matter; or at least that is what he keeps telling himself for your sake. “What do you want me to do, then?”

“I want you to go away,” you repeat, exasperated at how he’s obviously fighting every urge to laugh at your bitter attitude. 

As is expected, he pays you no mind and instead keeps following after you like he’s a dog tied to a leash that your hand holds. You can hear his footsteps trailing closely behind. “And where am I supposed to go, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, frowning. “Just go!”

“But I don’t wanna.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit that you don’t give a shit.”

“Fine!” You huff, a certain kind of tightness in your expression when you look at him. “Fine. I’ll go, then!”

“And where are you gonna go, huh? There isn’t a single inch of these woods that I don’t know like the back of my hand.” He looks at you, his eyes glimmering with a subtle yellow shade instead of their usual brown. “I’ll just track you down like I always do.”

With the expectant, borderline mischievous look he dares you with now, he reminds you of an overexcited puppy. 

Damn him. You’re not sure if you’re irked or envious by how unpredictable and free-spirited he is.

It only makes you angrier.

“I don’t know, Kiba,” you fuss, looking away and pinching the bridge of your nose to save yourself from getting flustered all over again. “Probably somewhere far away from you, because to be completely honest, you’re annoying the utter, living crap outta me right now, okay?”

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, paying mind to the way your voice cracks midway. You’re clearly upset, frustrated, perhaps even overwhelmed by the way he keeps one-upping you with every sentence.

It prompts him to walk closer to where you stand. To lean into your space, carefully reach out and pry your hands away from your face so that he can give you that same look that he’d given you all those years ago when he’d been sick and you were swinging by his house every single day after school. 

The one that’s completely, utterly riddled with an emotion you cannot bring yourself to understand even to this day.

“God, what do you want now?” you ask, your gaze still persistently avoidant.

“I want to apologize,” he says, this time completely serious. When you look up, he continues, “I know that I can be… a lot to handle at times, and—” 

You purse your lips, mumbling under your breath, “Yeah, well, a lot is an understatement when it comes to you.”

He chuckles, huffing a laugh. “Okay, smartass; shush. I wasn’t done talkin’ yet.”

You glower at the way he shushes you, but otherwise keep silent.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. I also know that it drives you up the wall when I’m a lot, so… yeah. I’ll tone it down, but you also gotta stop worrying so damn much, okay? It ain’t good for ya.”

“What do you mean by that?” you ask.

“What I mean is that you’re just always actin’ so goddamn uptight, bunny; I can sense it! So just… try and relax for once, yeah? Allow yourself to enjoy something that’s a lil’ bit spontaneous. Go fuckin’ crazy, go wild; all that good shit, ya know?” he says, and all of a sudden he’s resting both big palms on your shoulders, shaking you gently as if trying to rid you of your nerves. “Deal?”

“I wasn’t… worrying.” Your heartbeat quickens at the doubtful look he gives you next. “But yeah. Yeah, okay. Deal. Going crazy, going wild; woo…”

You’re soap-sliver thin. Transparent. Ever the complicator. That ‘woo’ was pitiful.

But it’s a start.

“Attagirl, there she is,” he says as he ruffles your hair and fixes his backpack back into place. It encourages you to do the same with your own while he slips by you and walks a couple steps ahead, letting you breathe again. “Now let’s go. We’re almost there, but I wanna get the tent ready before the sun gets the chance to set.”

“Tent?” you mumble, following after him. “As in… singular?”

“Yeah?” This time it’s his turn to look at you over his shoulder. “What, did you think that I was gonna carry two of ‘em on my back? We’re sharing; it’s easier.”

Thump, thump, thump!

“Oh. Um.” You swallow hard as you rub the spot where your heart lies with a sweaty hand. “Okay.”

He’s quiet for a second. And then he asks, “Does that make you uncomfortable…? ‘Cause at the end of the day, I can always sleep outside. I just thought it’d be—”

“No, we’re good,” you say, cutting him off. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t slept together before,” you say. And nearly choke on your own words. “Wait! Wait, I-I meant like, you know, like back when we were younger.”

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

God, you’re thankful that he’s walking ahead of you so that he can’t see you experiencing your meltdown.

Kiba seems to ignore your little hiccup, because all he says now is, “Positive?”

You take a deep breath. Exhale. Clear your head just enough to ask, “What’s with all the questions all of a sudden…?”

“Nothin’,” he mumbles, his posture straight. “I just wanna make sure you’re cool with it.”

“Yeah, well all it’s doing is making me feel nervous again.”

“Oh, shit; okay, okay!” He turns to look at you again, his eyes wide. “We’re relaxing, we’re chilling… Look at the pretty nature, look at the trees! So zen, right? Real ‘live, laugh, love’ type of shit right here, yes, ma’am!”

Eventually, his rambling makes timid laughter echo throughout the forest.

What an idiot.

———

Ever since you’ve set up camp and settled on the small clearing on top of the hill, you’ve learned three things.

One, the stars are a beautiful sight that stretches far and beyond the inky sky when there���s not as much light pollution present to dim them out. 

Two, your best friend is a master when it comes to putting up a tent and starting a campfire.

And three, he can also whip up some really, I mean really mean s’mores.

That last one is why you’re practically humming whilst you sit by the fire that night; dressed in your favourite hoodie and continuously licking droplets of melted chocolate off your fingertips with utmost delight.

With his dark irises adorned with dancing orange flames, Kiba’s eyes can best be described as blazing when he looks up at you.

“Whath?” you mumble, mouth full of marshmallows.

“Easy there, tiger,” he taunts. “Leave some for the rest of us, will ya?”

“Leave me alone,” you answer just as lightheartedly when you swallow. Finally willing yourself to relax, your voice sounds muffled because of how you pop the tip of your thumb out of your overly-sweet mouth, “As if you didn’t eat like six of them already.”

“I ate six ‘cause I’m a big fella with an even bigger appetite,” he counters immediately. “What’s your excuse?”

“Well, if you must know,” you brush him off with a rather sassy flick of the wrist. “I’m ovulating right now and it makes me hungrier than usual.”

Just as you’ve expected, Kiba splutters and nearly drops the bottle he’d just been drinking water out of. A series of coughing and choking noises ensue that make it very hard to hide your satisfaction.

By the time he manages to collect himself, you’re still musing. “You okay there, Inuzuka?”

“Christ,” he says, his voice so hoarse that it forces him to clear his throat for a second time around. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing like always. “It’s just that you don’t have to be so upfront about it.”

“Um, okay…? I was just joking, you know... Didn’t think you’d take it as seriously as you did.” Your upper lip quivers as you let out a quiet, almost self-deprecating laugh at the look of guardedness that crosses his face when you speak the words. 

It’s almost like he’s conflicted about how to act around you all of a sudden. 

And it’s also the reason why you can’t help but ask, “What’s the big deal, though? Does it gross you out or something?”

“No. Gosh, no,” he immediately says and for a second you swear that there’s a blush tinging his already sun-kissed cheeks when he turns to look at the fire instead of you. 

He seems to be struggling with finding the right thing to say as he runs his hands up and down his knees and brings them closer to his chest. “You know I’m not like that. It’s just that… well, I don’t wanna think about it, is all. About you, in that kind of way, I mean.”

He can’t risk it because he can still remember the scent of it from way back when he was seventeen. Can still remember how dangerously good it smelled it to him.

God, you were so alluring to him. You still are.

“Oh.” Ouch. You don’t realize that you take his words the wrong way, so they sting you in the place where your heart supposedly lies. Nevertheless, you still manage to smile like the brave girl you’re trying to be as you say, “Well, luckily for you; you won’t have to, because I haven’t ovulated in like three years or so, hah.”

He perks up as his eyes shift back to you. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”

You shake your head, wishing to move on from the conversation but this time he strangely persists, pestering you to give him an answer even if he’d been the one acting weird about it earlier.

So you finally oblige, “Well, uh, I’m on birth control.”

He tilts his head to the side like a dog. “Why?”

Your brow furrows. “What do you mean ‘why’?”

He looks at you like you’re dumb. “Why are you on birth control?”

“Because I don’t want to get pregnant while having sex…?” you trail off. “Isn’t that supposed to be obvious?”

His eyes widen, dark brows shooting up so high that they could touch his hairline. “You’re fucking someone?”

Now is your turn to be taken aback. “I-I mean… I used to, yeah.”

Displeasure turns Kiba’s stomach into a pit of despair. He realizes that he’s not very fond of the idea of someone touching you like that. “When? And who?”

“I’m not telling you that!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to talk to you about my sex life!”

“Why not?” he repeats, still oddly intrigued, almost nosy. “I can tell you all ‘bout mine if you tell me ‘bout yours.”

“Hell no.” You whip your head forward, glaring into the fire whilst grabbing the nearby stick that you used to roast — or should you say burn — your marshmallows with before. Poking the embers with it, the frown that’s on your lips only deepens now as you watch the sparks dance up into the night sky. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass on listening to you talk about all your failed sexual conquests.”

He chuckles with what you think is amusement, but the sound is oddly strained. “What makes you think that they’re failed ones?”

You purse your lips. “Well, you’ve broken up with Tamaki, didn’t you?”

“I broke up with Tam for other reasons,” he mutters, his smile wavering for a slight second. “The sex had nothin’ to do with it.”

You don’t want to tread these waters and besides, it’s better to keep things light. So you sit straighter as you stick your tongue out at him, taunting, “Or maybe it’s just your insanely small dick that’s to blame, did you ever think about that?” 

“Oh, yeah, bet. It’s definitely small, all right.” Kiba huffs a laugh at your jab. And then he leans slightly closer; not too close, but just enough for the proximity to feel slightly more intimate than platonic. 

His pupils are so big that they remind you of two vortexes as he whispers, “Wanna take a look just to make sure?”

Sinful thrill erupts within your gut at the closeness and his rather sly comment. It shakes you to your core even if you don’t want it to. So with your train of thought becoming all fucked up and wacky all of a sudden, you turn away from facing him, feeling the heat from the fire kiss your already much too-warm cheeks.

With your voice merely above a murmur, you sound like you’re almost out of breath as you utter, “You’re so gross.”

“Eh,” he shrugs and crosses his arms behind his head as he pushes further back against the log you’re both leaning against with the provided comfort of your backpacks. “You’re used to it.”

“What I am,” you say, side-eyeing him, “is traumatized.”

“Oh, boohoo.” He pretends to pout, closing his eyes, “Big bad Kiba keeps on bullying me. Poor, poor me.”

You giggle, poking the embers again. “Remember back when Sasuke used to bully you in elementary?”

“Tsch.” You watch as he clicks his tongue, his eyes still closed. “That Uchiha twink definitely did not bully me.”

“He kept on saying how your teeth were too big to properly fit inside your mouth.”

“Mhmmm,” Kiba drawls, crossing one ankle over the other. His eyelids flutter open slightly, the orange glow from the fire further complimenting his tan skin and dark hair. “And then, if memory serves right, I bit him for it.”

“And then you bit him for it, yes,” you echo, stifling another giggle. It makes your shoulders shake as you tug on the sleeves of your oversized hoodie. “Oh my gosh, remember how pissed Mr. Umino got at you for that?”

“I think I got like two weeks of detention for it,” he drawls. “It was worth it though... I never liked Sasuke all that much for some reason.”

“No, I think it was more like three weeks than it was two? Because I remember having to walk back home from school all alone every day and thinking how it was taking ages.”

“Yeah?” He turns slightly so that he can look at you from the corner of his eye. “You actually remember that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask.

“Uh,” he blinks, his expression turning blank. “‘Cause instead of paying attention to the pain and suffering of your best friend, you were probably way too busy actin’ annoyingly obsessed with Sasuke, just like every other girl was doing in our year?”

“What?” Your eyebrows knit together at this newly-acquired information. “I wasn’t obsessed with him!”

Kiba turns to give you a look that outright spells bullshit.

“Come on,” you glance at him, head hanging low. “Don’t gimme that look.”

“What look?” he answers, still giving you that exact look.

“The one that makes me feel like I’m lying.”

The corners of his lips quirk upward. “But you are lying.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Ugh.” You scoff, playing with the strings on your hoodie. “Fine, maybe I did have a little crush on him. You can’t really blame me for it, though! Sasuke was, like… devastatingly pretty, okay?”

“So that’s your type, huh?” he asks, his foot dancing along the rhythm of a silent song you probably don’t know. “Pretty boys? Sorry, devastatingly pretty boys?”

“I don’t have a type,” you counter, ignoring his jab.

“Sure you do.”

“I seriously don’t.”

“Everyone has a type, though.”

“Not me.”

Kiba falls silent for a moment as he stares into the fire. You pass the time by watching the flames dance across his cheekbones; along the dangerously sharp line that is his jaw. His eyelashes are thick and long, and the curve of his nose is delicate and slightly upturned at the end.

He looks like he’s still deep in thought by the time he finally says, “Well, maybe you just haven’t found it yet. Your type, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you reply, unable to stop staring at his side profile. “Maybe.”

Or maybe, just maybe, your type is right in front of your nose.

———

What you also learn after stomping out the campfire and clambering inside the tent that night, is that even though you’ve slept in the same bed countless of times before, the entire ordeal is much different now that your best friend has gotten bigger.

Because instead of laying beside you like he used to do back in the day when you were kids, Kiba somehow ends up fully surrounding you this time.

He’s everywhere all at once, his presence and that warm amber scent filling every last inch of the small tent you’re both currently residing in. Being so close to him, practically wrapped in his embrace and with your back firmly pressed against his chest, feels oddly familiar even if it’s currently being executed for the sole purpose of keeping you warm throughout the night.

But it’s not quite the same, now that you’re adults, now is it? 

It’s almost… inappropriate. In some way at least.

“Should’ve brought warmer clothes with ya, bunny,” he mumbles at some point, his face so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath brushing the back of your neck. “You’re practically shiverin’.”

His drawl — even more prominent now that you think he’s half-asleep — makes your blood want to boil, and not out of anger. He talks to you like he’s trying to get into your panties, but you know that that’s not the case. 

He’s made it pretty fucking clear that he wants nothing to do with you with the whole ‘being too upfront’ situation earlier, after all.

So you take a deep breath to calm yourself — and hopefully whisk the confusing thoughts away that are doing more harm than good — before you murmur, “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

He chuckles as he gives your stomach a single stroke, the sound lazy and laid-back just like the movement is. “Mm… I believe it’s mine.”

“No shit.” You sigh as you curl yourself tighter and shift even closer to his chest that is providing you with all this heavenly warmth you simply can’t get enough of. “God, I can’t believe that I’ve let you talk me into going camping in just my leggings and an old hoodie… I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

“Hey, now,” he objects, “you can trust me. I just forgot that regular humans can’t handle the cold as well as I can.”

“If I could trust you, I wouldn’t be freezing my ass off in the middle of the woods right now, Kiba!” You whine, annoyed. “Ugh, you’re always so reckless and never stop to think things through. Nothing’s changed.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” he mutters into the dark, lips a firm line of seriousness. He always finds you so cute whenever you get pissy and say his name like that, but something with your sentence doesn’t sit right with him this time. “But I’m trying to fix it, aren’t I?”

“Well, so far you’re not doing that good of a job,” you pout in answer. “I’m still cold.”

Silence settles between you for a couple of moments. The only sound you can hear, or should you rather say feel, is the strong beating of his heart as it drums against your spine.

It turns a bit erratic by the time he says, “I’ve got an idea.”

You roll over to look at him. “What kind of idea?”

“Hear me out,” he says. “How about you take off your—”

Nearly choking on your own saliva, you try to ignore the way his quickening pulse makes your tummy tighten as you rush to cut him off with a high-pitched, “No!”

“Just hear me out, will ya?” Kiba’s voice fades into nothing as he rests his chin on the top of your head. He’s mumbling as he says, “If you get undressed, it’ll be easier to—”

“Nope! Nope, nope, nope,” you squeak out, quickly shaking your head, making him pull back slightly. “Absolutely not.”

“But you didn’t even let me finish!”

“And I don’t need to, because I know exactly where this is going,” you chide, brow furrowing so prominently that there’s a small v etching itself into your forehead, now. “I am not getting naked with you under the pretense of sharing body heat.”

No way in hell are you about to fall for one of his jokes again. They just leave you hanging in the end, looking desperate.

“Oh, c’mon; why not?” he says, voice so genuinely curious that it almost makes him sound innocent and free from any intent to scheme whatsoever. His fingers dig deeper into your hoodie as he adds, “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t already seen all your bits and pieces before.”

You push away from him so that you can face him instead, supporting yourself with the help of your palms. The inside of the tent is dark, so dark that you can barely see the outline of him, but you just know that he’s smiling; the little shit.

“Those bits and pieces, as you’ve so kindly called them, have changed a lot since we’ve last shared a kiddie pool, Ki,” you mumble, feeling heat growing up your neck and down your middle. It takes all the effort in the world to not let it slip to that tingly place between your legs, especially because there’s a calm rumble of a laugh thundering inside his chest, now.

“It’ll warm you up faster,” he pushes. “That’s all I want, I swear.”

“No thanks,” you refuse, fighting the urge to not shrivel up and simply die from embarrassment. “I’m perfectly content with waiting for your wolfy heat to reach me through the many, many layers of our clothes.”

“You sure?” he asks. “‘Cause it’s gonna be a long night.”

“Yep.”

“Absolutely sure?”

“Yes!” You squeeze his arm, digging your nails into his dark green hoodie as if in warning before you turn your back towards him again and shuffle closer. “Now shut up and go to sleep already.”

“‘Kay,” he relents at long last, sighing. “Suit yourself.”

“I sure plan to, thank you very much!”

“Aha.”

He’s uncharacteristically quiet as he settles back into the folds of your unzipped sleeping bags that you’ve overlapped just so that you can be conjoined together into a mess of limbs. And as a result, the silence to follow is so heavy. It succeeds in making you jittery as hell, as if the chill didn’t help with that already.

“Stop moving around so much, I’m tryin’ to sleep,” he fusses by the time it’s your third time switching positions and pushing further up against him. Unlike before, he sounds like he’s actually agitated now.

“I can’t help it if I’m cold,” you whine, rubbing your feet against his calves. 

The feeling of your socks gaining friction against his sweatpants is nice for you from the way it steadily creates warmth, however for Kiba it’s an annoyance that seemingly has no end.

It’s the reason as to why his tone comes across as an irked hiss when he says, “Yeah, well, that’s not my problem, now is it?” 

“But it is,” you reply, still running the soles of your feet up and down his legs. “You were the one who kept on saying that a hoodie would be just fine to wear.”

“No, I– Can you stop doing that already?!” He grunts, poking you in the side and causing you to jump. “You know damn well how much the whole feet thing pisses me off.”

“Well, wanna know what pisses me off?”

“What?”

“Being so cold that my teeth are practically chattering.”

“All right, that’s it.”

Your breathing staggers in the back of your throat as you watch him sit up so that he can start taking his hoodie off. He reaches for the back of it, strong back flexing as he pulls it over his head and throws it into one corner that’s to your left.

The white t-shirt he wears underneath gets tugged along, riding up his spine slightly. And goddammit, it’s hard not to ogle at him; hard not to leer at all the tight, defined lines of muscle paired with the contrasting smoothness of tan skin, at how his dark hair tickles the nape of his neck now that it’s all ruffled. 

But maybe if you’re sneaky with it, he won’t be able to tell? And besides, it’s pretty dark anyway and—

“Stop staring,” he says like he’s reading your mind. “There’s drool drippin’ at the corner of your mouth already.”

You gulp in response to being caught by his exceptional night vision. The sound is loud and embarrassing as it travels down your throat, at least that’s what you’re thinking. 

“I wasn’t— God, you’re so pretentious,” you manage to let out. “I’m just trying to figure out what you’re doing, you prick.”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting undressed,” he replies casually as he repeats the same set of movements and takes his T-shirt off as well. “And judging by how much you’re complaining about the cold, I suggest you do the same before you freeze to death.”

You bite into the inside of your cheek to stop your upper lip from trembling with stress. “I already told you that I’m not doing that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Something changes inside him at your denial. It makes him sound more tense as he says, “Can you please stop making a fuss for once and just do it?”

“No.”

“C’mon.”

“No, Kiba.”

“Fine, then freeze,” he quips, suddenly snappier than usual. His blood feels like it’s simmering. Wait, has it always been this hot in here?

Upset, cold and sticky, flashes throughout your chest at his seemingly careless words. “Okay, maybe I will.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

You glare at each other, fire and ice present in a single look.

“For fuck’s sake,” he says, trying to tame the persistent flutter of a muscle in his cheek that just won’t go away now. “Why do you gotta be so stubborn all the time? It’s like you’re actively searching for reasons to fight with me every chance you get.”

“That’s not true. You just don’t like it when I don’t comply with what you want,” you spit back, narrowing your eyes. “You’re the stubborn one.”

Another beat of silence passes between you and he uses it to inhale a deep breath and exhale it out just as slowly. It looks like he’s trying to calm himself, fighting every urge not to snap at you again.

“I’m just looking out for you,” he counters finally, his features unbearably tight. “I want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

“Oh, please.” You force out a laugh that doesn’t come from the heart. “As if you know what’s best for me.”

“And you do?” He looks at you, brows raised in challenge. “‘Cause how the hell is getting sick just because you’re too big of a pussy to take your shirt off the thing that’s best for you?”

Your toes start to curl with irritation under the layer of the sleeping bag you’re still tucked into. “I’d rather be a pussy any day, than an obsessively controlling alpha asshole who can’t take a no for an answer.” 

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from the control freak herself,” he says, nearly copying the same bitter laugh you’ve let out earlier. “You’re talking as if you don’t start acting batshit crazy whenever a single thing doesn’t go the way you imagined it to go.”

How on earth did this turn into an actual argument so out of the blue? Is he actually that irritated that you refuse to undress? Or is there something else to blame for all of this?

Either way, things are escalating fast.

Your face feels hot from all the mixed emotions you’re experiencing as you draw your blade and stick it into the place where you know it hurts him the most because he’s done the same to you, “I might be a control freak… You’re just a freak.” 

“You wanna talk to me about being a freak?” He laughs again, quieter this time but the sound is cold and sharp as ice. “‘Cause how can you call me that, if back when I met you, no one could even stand the sight of you!” 

He sucks in one breath, two, three before he continues, unable to stop, “No one could even talk to you. Do you remember that? Not until I stepped in, at least. So call me a freak all you want if it makes you feel any better, princess, but at the end of the day, I was still the one who put you out there while all you did was feel sorry for yourself.”

“You didn’t do shit!” The anger that drops upon your unsuspecting mind is like a thick, red fog. It makes your voice rise higher as you say, “All you’ve been doing for all these years, is breathing down my neck!”

“It’s not like I fucking chose to do that, goddammit!” Kiba snaps, voice suddenly gruff, heart pounding. His pulse feels like it’s racketing behind his teeth as he grits them so hard it makes his jaw hurt. “I mean, do you actually think that I want to spend the rest of my life wondering where the fuck you are and what you’re doing, when you can’t even put in the effort to text me back? Do you think that I want to keep being your friend, when you don’t even—”

“I didn’t ask you to!” You push forward, getting all up into his face as hurt sears the inside of your chest, making it heavy. “I didn’t ask you to be my friend, I didn’t ask you to keep trying to stay in touch, I didn’t ask you to keep monitoring me like some fucking psycho! I didn’t ask you to do any of those things.”

“You not asking for it is not the fucking issue, all right!” His face contorts into a look of prominent displeasure, the bridge of his nose scrunching. It’s clear how much you’re pissing him off; it’s making him say things he otherwise wouldn’t.

“Then tell me what the issue is!” You inhale, your own breathing quick and unfulfilling from how emotional you’re getting. It feels like you can’t suck enough air into your lungs no matter how hard you try. “Enlighten me, Kiba, please! Because quite frankly, I have no freaking clue what you’re going on about right now.”

“The issue,” he finally says, eyes bleary with fury and disdain, “is that I’m stuck with you. And guess what, you get to leave. I can’t. You get to fuck off to the other side of the goddamn country completely unfazed after every summer, and I can’t despite trying, because I’m feeling every mile of distance that separates me from you and it makes me fucking sick!” 

The words are like a waterfall to spill from his mouth, he can’t stop them. “You get to meet new people, you get to befriend them and sleep with them and love them, all while every. Single. One of my relationships falls apart because I’m stuck thinking about you, and only you. I mean Jesus fucking Christ, I’m thinking about you whenever I go to sleep, when I go to the gym, when I go to work… I was even thinking about you every time I fucked my girlfriend, who is now my ex, thanks to you!”

He ceases, breathing hard through his nose now, opening his mouth to say something, then thinking better of it.

Meanwhile, every single muscle in your body goes weak, almost numb. His stare is feverish and remains glued to your face; it makes you feel like you’ll drop dead any second now despite the fact that your stomach is doing cartwheels and high-pitched white noise progressively fills your ears. 

If there wasn’t a humongous lump jammed inside your throat, you’d perhaps be able to tell how dry your mouth has turned all of a sudden. 

But you don’t. So it’s no wonder why your voice cracks as you at long last look at your childhood best friend, the person you’ve always trusted the most, and ask, “So, you’re in love with me? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Hah,” he snorts, the sound completely unenthusiastic. “I wish it was that simple.” 

“Then what else is there?”

“I’m bonded to ya, sweetheart.” His stare hardens. “You’re my mate. Always have been, always will be. Congrats.”

Thump, thump, thump!

“Mate?” Your heart nearly breaks your ribcage in half from how intensely it starts to pound at the word. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means… It means that I’ve longed for you ever since the first day I saw you, okay? God.” He groans, running his hand down his cheek, then the side of his neck. His skin has become so slick with sweat that it causes his fingers to glide. “And it means that I’ll still long for you no matter what you do, or how far away you go, or who you end up with... You’re a part of me. And I can’t do shit about it.”

His words make your head swim. It’s hard to concentrate because of it, the rising nausea only making things worse, but you still manage enough willpower to ask, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t—...” He inhales a long breath again, only one this time. And pulls a face you can’t read. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured by it… Like you were obligated to be with me or something, just ‘cause I was having a bad time.”

“So instead you decided to be my friend for all these years? So that I could have my chance at freedom and you’d still have a reason to be near me?” Disappointment flashes throughout your brain like lightning. You feel played. “Does that mean that our entire friendship was, like… just some ploy to help you get closer to me or whatever?”

“Fuck no.” His shoulders slump as he practically succumbs to the weight of his own body. The world feels like it’s spinning all of a sudden. “The bond had nothing to do with that; well, maybe at the start, but definitely not afterwards. I was your friend because you were actually cool to hang out with, despite being kind of a dork. Even if you were my mate, you were still smart, and nice, and… and…”

And it’s only then, when you close the gap between yourself and him to catch him, that you realize how high his body temperature has gotten. How his skin feels like it’s blazing underneath the tips of your fingers when you press your hand to his chest on pure instinct. How the blush that tints his cheeks is stark red; intense enough to even reach the tips of his ears and the base of his neck.

His blood has always run hot, you know that. But never like this.

Never like this.

It’s even worse than back when he was ‘sick’.

“Shit… Are you feeling okay? You’re burning up all of a sudden. Like, even more than usual.” Your voice trembles on the words as you speak, low and worried. It’s like the entire argument is forgotten in a blink of an eye just because you’re sensing that something isn’t right with him.

“No.” Much to your surprise, Kiba gives you a hard smile when you look up into his face. It’s covered with a thick coat of sweat again even if he had wiped it away just minutes before. “I’m not okay.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think…” He pauses, letting out a pained sound that’s almost like a mix between a grunt and a whimper when you cup his face with your hands. “I think that I’m slipping into rut.”

“Rut?” You blink when he takes your hands into his own and hurriedly pries them away from his face, your eyelashes batting against your cheeks. The sudden rush of adrenaline that courses your veins when he starts to let you go makes you feel like you’re hollow inside.

So you cling onto his hands. If anything, they’re keeping you warm.

He breathes in again, every breath strained. “You need to stop touching me. It’s making it worse.”

Your brain feels like it’s turned to mush all of a sudden. All you can do is do as he says and whisper, “Oh. Y-yes, okay. Okay.”

“Fuck.” He scrubs his hand over his face for what must be the third time now, continuously wiping the liquid salt that just won’t stop oozing out of his pores. “Fuck. This is so fucked.”

Your eyes feel like they’re bulging from how concerned you are. His constant swearing isn’t helping the situation. “What is?”

“This whole night. Everything.” He looks away, clearly ashamed. Parts his lips so that he can breathe through his mouth instead of his nose, but it just makes him taste you on the flat of his tongue instead. Drool seeps as a result. “I wasn’t even supposed to go into rut for the next couple of weeks at least, maybe even a month from now... I think your scent might have triggered it.” 

After all, you’re sweet as summer honey. Honey made just for him.

And being this sweet, it’s no wonder that he’d subconsciously lured you out into the forest and away from other people under the pretense of catching up. No wonder that he had pinned you down with a single look in the middle of a grocery store as soon as you showed even the slightest hint of requited feelings. That he’d been getting impatient, had been getting jealous at the mention of other partners, had even nearly tried manipulating you into getting naked with him — something he’d never thought he’d sink so low to, for fuck’s sake.

All while the rut just stacked one symptom on top of the other.

This entire trip, every single one of his actions, every word, every look had been mere preying. Mere circling whilst getting ready to go in for the kill. After all, you’ve been gone for years, leaving him stranded. Catching a mere whiff of your scent — of his mate’s scent — after such a long time had been like an awakening for the beast within; a push for it to take over.

And that beast is ready to come out now. It’ll claw a way out of him if need be. He didn’t even realize it until now. 

Utterly blinded by instinct, he’d been played for a fool by his own psyche.

“Kiba?” you whisper his name cautiously, pupils still big as saucers as you repeat, “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” He exhales shakily, ignoring your question. “I-I need to get away from you before I—”

“What? You can’t leave me here! What the fuck,” you stammer out, eyes opening even wider in the dark. Ignoring his warnings, you clutch onto him again because he’s simply your only pillar right now. Rut or no rut. Whatever that means.

“Well, I can’t stay here,” he snaps in answer and now you can hear the mumble appearing between each word. His already humanly-questionable incisors are growing elongated now, turning into fangs and changing his pattern of speech. “You have no fucking idea how aggressive I get if I don’t get what I want during a rut; what you saw earlier wasn’t even the half of it. And I can’t... I won’t let you see me like that. I don’t want you to think—”

“I won’t think anything of you, I promise! Just… just please don’t leave me here. Please,” you quickly blabber out even if you’re not sure who the words are meant for; you or him. “Just tell me what you need.”

“No way.” He’s practically panting, every breath still continuing to be laboured as he says, “You’re not gonna like it.”

“Just say it.”

“It’s so fucking embarrassing, though.”

“Goddammit, spit it out already!”

“I—” He falters, huffing, only stressing you out further until he finally says, “I need to cum.”

The white noise that had just eased a bit inside your ears immediately gets replaced by the deafening ringing of your pulse. Did you just hear that right? 

“H-Huh?” is all you can let out as a result.

“I need to cum to make the rut ease up,” he explains impatiently, voice breathless, hoarse. He looks at you, the vein in his neck bulging as his jaw clicks into place again. “Fucking hell… M’sorry, I’m so sorry… for everything. You don’t gotta do anything if you don’t wanna, I’d never force you but— fuck, it’s so fucking hot in here. I can’t breathe.”

The moment you see him start losing his composure again is the moment that you spring into action.

“Here, let’s just… take it easy for a bit.” You blink profusely, trying to gain control of the situation as you ease him onto the pile of sleeping bags. “Breathe in nice and slow, yeah?”

“No,” he grunts out, tensing again in an instant. “That makes it worse.”

“Oh, right. Right. Sorry.” 

Moments pass, all of them feeling like ages even if it’s only a second or two, perhaps three. You spend them all by watching him like a shark in water, not sounding quite like yourself as you force yourself to step out of your comfort zone for once and utter, “Let me help you.”

“What?”

“Let me help you with the whole… uh.” Your rare, spontaneous decision makes your head want to hurt from all the anxiety it’s causing. “Cumming part, I mean.”

“No.” His cheeks glow red as he swallows hard. “You seriously don’t gotta. Like I said, I’d never—”

“I know,” you cut in, giving him a look of what you hope looks like determination instead of pure anxiety. “I know you wouldn’t. Besides, there’s no need for that because I want to, okay?”

Kiba frowns, looking the most exasperated you’ve ever seen him be. It makes his voice unusually quiet and small as he whispers, “Why would you?”

“Want that?”

“Yes.”

“I want to because you’re my friend,” you say and it’s the truth. “And I don’t care what it is that we gotta do to make you feel all right again, I’ll always help you out because of that, okay?”

“But I’m a shitty friend. I don’t deserve you helping me out; I don’t deserve you,” he counters. “I mean, for fuck’s sake… Look at the shitshow that I dragged you into just now.”

“You made it sound like you didn’t know this would happen, though,” you argue back, growing more backbone with your tone. “Did I understand that right?”

His teeth sink into the inside of his cheek, instantly drawing blood from how sharper they are than they used to be. He hisses, licking the now aching spot, tasting iron. “Yes.”

“Okay, then let me help you,” you try again, unrecognized greed and the bond you can’t feel not as nearly as deep as him pushing you forward hand in hand. “Yeah?”

Kiba looks at you for a long while. His eyes have gotten so dark that they look like they could absorb you whole when he finally opens his mouth to say, “Yeah.” His eyelids flutter shut for a brief second as he shakes his head, as if chasing the doubt away. “Yeah, all right.”

With his approval acquired, the couple of seconds to follow are like a blur. You don’t know where the sudden burst of confidence comes from as you coax him to lay on his back, but you’re happy it’s there because it keeps your hands somewhat from shaking.

“Come to think of it, maybe we shouldn’t—” He stiffens, the words catching in his throat from the way his cock automatically starts to twitch in his sweats because of the way your unsure touch travels down his stomach, now.

His dark happy trail tickles the tips of your fingers, caramel skin still so hot that you’re surprised he’s still conscious and capable of forming thoughts. 

“It’s okay, shh,” you soothe him even if your heart feels like it’s climbed up your throat again when he immediately pushes himself up with the help of his elbows so that he can look at you. You’re both trying so hard to not stare at the obvious tent in his pants. “I’ll, um… I-I’ll take care of it, okay?”

Your best friend’s chest heaves with every fast breath. All he can do is nod, the discomfort obvious as he says, “Okay.”

God, he sounds so uncomfortable but desperate for it at the same time. You force yourself not to look at him as you kneel beside him, feeling sweat gathering on the nape of your neck. Just a little while ago you were cold. Now, you’re burning up from how quickly he’s warming up the small space.

“Will, like, a handjob be enough…?” This entire thing is insane. Surreal.

You’ve gone from zero to a hundred just because he’ll go off the rails otherwise.

“I, uh, I think so?” His fingers curl, fisting the smooth material of the sleeping bag. He clutches it so tightly that it makes his knuckles turn white as he adds, “I mean, that’s what I do when I’m alone.”

“You jerk off during a rut?” The image of him stroking himself makes your stomach tighten and your throat turn scratchy.

“So many times. Ugh.” Heat spreads throughout your body at the groan he lets out, but it also warms his face into an even deeper shade of red. Talking about these things might be embarrassing right now, but it eases the tension. So he continues, “Sometimes I even have to take a couple days off work just so I can keep fuckin’ my fist, hah.”

The look on your face makes him inhale a sharp breath through gritted teeth.

“Too much?” he asks, that same look of dread overtaking his features once more.

“No, no,” you reply hurriedly, running two now-trembling fingers along the waistband of his sweatpants. The way his toned stomach trembles in response turns your mouth painfully dry all over again. “I just… I thought you’d rather venture out to find somebody to sleep with during a time like that. So that you can, you know… make it pass quicker or something.”

“Oh. Well, I did try to do that. But it didn’t go so well,” he answers, staring at every movement your hand makes with heavy eyelids. “Here, lemme… help you out ‘cause we gotta speed things up a bit. I’m so sorry… God.”

Your breath hitches when his too-warm hand cups your smaller one and wraps it around the prominent bulge in his sweatpants without any sort of hesitance, but with palpable urgency instead. 

He curls your fingers around the ridge of his clothed cock until you can feel out the shape of it. And then he stills completely, giving you time to pull back if you change your mind about the entire thing despite that every cell of him wants to roar.

But you never do. 

No, instead all you do is succumb to the moment and start to stroke him the way he’s shown you — slowly at first.

“Fuck, okay… That’s it,” he whispers, broad shoulders tensing at the touch. His fingers twitch, tightening their grip on the sleeping bag.

The praise is like a flame and it licks your skin. Feeling how big he is getting under the cotton now, how fucking huge he’s growing, makes your saliva thick and your voice wobbly as you whisper, “Like that?”

“Mhmm, yeah.” He sighs before yet another curse spills past his parted lips. There’s drool gathering on the surface of his sharp fangs by the time he urges you on. When he swallows it, it’s audible. 

Somehow, it succeeds in making you feel better, more relaxed. The fact that he’s just as nervous as you are helps. 

So you let your lips quirk upwards briefly as you say, “Now you’re the one that’s got drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, huh?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” He huffs a laugh. “This whole thing is pretty new to me. Makes my body act all sorts of weird.”

You blink. “A handjob is new to you?”

He shakes his head, looking down at his lap with a blush so prominent that it makes his entire face tingle. “No, I meant like a mate’s touch.”

“Oh.” You offer him a nervous smile, readjusting yourself on your legs. “Well, um… enjoy it while it lasts, hah?”

Kiba doesn’t say anything in answer. Neither do you. Maybe he’s afraid of what this will mean for your friendship afterwards. Maybe you both are. But with each passing minute, you slowly ease yourself into your sinful ministrations. Your strokes turn less rigid, the hesitance replaced with cautious intent, but intent nevertheless.

The waistband of his sweatpants gradually slips lower and lower down his hips as you keep going. A glob of your saliva gets involved; transferring from your pursed lips, to your palm, to his cock that has finally been freed from the too-tight confines of his clothes and is now being spoiled by skin on skin contact.

Even if Kiba remains in his — mostly — human form, you soon learn that werewolf cock is vastly different from a human one. In the dark, you can’t see it quite well, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t feel the difference. 

It’s bigger, harder, hotter to the touch than any you’ve previously had. It throbs and practically leaks pre-cum, nearly making you think that you didn’t even have to spit into your palm in the first place. In fact, it’s so lubed up that there are wet, almost squishy noises by the time his hips start to buck upwards and he starts fucking your fist.

You’re hovering over him, your face merely inches away from his own from how close you’ve gotten during the entire ordeal. If you thought he was panting before, now he’s nearly hyperventilating as he rasps, “F-fuck, mm… faster. Go faster, bunny. It feels s’good.”

His voice has turned into a growl of some kind; it’s the lewdest you’ve ever heard him speak. Because even with all the dirty jokes, and the questionable looks, and the sometimes too-long hugs which you’ve exchanged throughout the years, Kiba has always, always been respectful of your boundaries and limits.

But he really pushes that limit, really steps on that already thin line when he suddenly rests his forehead against your own and asks, “Are you gonna let me kiss you?”

Your thoughts turn fuzzy in an instant at the request, as well as at the nearly non-existent proximity. This isn’t about helping him out anymore, this is about feelings. Feelings that you’re very much still trying to understand. 

And feelings are dangerous, when you know that being friends is best for you. After all, you’re so different from each other — polar opposites. But you feel the invisible link that connects you to him now a bit better than you did before, feel it tugging you towards him; closer and closer, even if you’re merely human. Every touch makes it stronger and alters your brain chemistry, alters the way you see him.

It feels like you’re gradually starting to share every breath, like your heartbeats are aligning and will keep on aligning all until they’ll start to beat as one. Like you’re fusing together; he’s becoming you at the same time you’re becoming him.

You have no clue how he’s managed to endure all of this for such a long time, surely feeling it at least ten times stronger than you do. And in a way, it’s scary. All these emotions are making you feel overwhelmed and the worst part is that they’re not nearly as deep yet as his are.

You stare at him. He stares right back with dark eyes full of what you think is good intention. 

Your lips quiver as you whisper, “Do you think kissing is a good idea?”

“It’s just a couple of kisses, bunny,” he answers way too fast, quietly whimpering when your thumb swipes over his sensitive cockhead, turning tacky because of the bead of pre-cum there. He’s so needy that he feels like it’s going to kill him. The rut has outright cooked his brain by now, and that makes him pushy — he’s warned you about it. “It’s not like it’s gonna change anything between us.”

You look at him again, still sceptic. Your grip around his cock tightens as you think. “I dunno...”

“C’mon. Please, please, please,” he urges, feeling even more hot and bothered and desperate at how godly it feels when you stroke his cock. Up and down, up and down, up and down — he’s going to go batshit crazy. “Didn’t you tell me that you were gonna be a bit more spontaneous tonight? Hmm?”

You stare at him from underneath your lashes, feeling just a little less doubtful from how he pleads for it. Despite being perplexed about the entire situation, his uncharacteristic rambling and babbling and the constant need to challenge you proves to be like a push forward that you need in order to press your lips against his own.

So you gather your courage and lean in. And of course, he meets you halfway in an instant — even faster than that. 

The kiss itself is messy when you connect. It’s more so a clash of teeth and swapping of runny saliva, than it is a loving peck. He craves for you so bad that before you can even take a breath in, he’s nudging your bottom lip with his tongue, trying to make you part your lips a fraction wider; to part just enough for him to slip his tongue inside.

You let out a little ‘mmph!’ sound at how intense he is with it and how he cups one side of your face with his hand, literally forcing you to open up for him by pressing his thumb underneath your jaw.

“Hey—”

And it’s the opening he’s been looking for. He pushes his tongue inside, gliding it over your front teeth, tasting the roof of your mouth, exploring it like he’ll never get another chance to do so again — perhaps he won’t, who knows? 

So he hits you like a tidal wave and kisses you like he’s planning to eat you — it’s riveting as much as it is intimidating. Spit gets swapped with each sloppy kiss that gets shared between you now, some of it bridging the small gap between your mouths whenever you push him back just enough to come back for air. His large canine teeth bump against your own normal-sized ones. The occasional click! is enough to make your blood run hot.

And surprisingly, in the midst of all this chaos, you realize that kissing him feels right. It’s by no means romantic or a profession of love, but it is natural and synchronized in its own peculiar way. Somehow, it even makes sense. Like parts are connecting, like the image is getting clearer, like puzzle pieces are falling into place.

All those feelings that you’ve shoved down and blinded yourself from for literal years are rushing to the surface now. You feel like you’re going to burst.

In a way, Kiba feels the same.

“I, ah… I think m’gonna cum soon... Kissing you feels so hot.” He groans when he feels you falter, body tensing at how low his voice has gotten. His cock is nearly pulsating in your palm by now and he has to remind you to continue by helping you out with his own hand. “Fuck, keep goin’, keep goin’. Don’t stop now; I didn’t tell ya to stop, did I?”

Flustered and incredibly overwhelmed by everything that is happening, you do as he says because following orders — even frantic, growly ones — is familiar and comforting as a result. 

You let him sloppily fuck your fist as you tighten the hold of your fingers and loosen your wrist so that he can get what he needs to bring himself to his finish. All while he’s practically shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you with such a burning passion that it feels like you’ll be engulfed in flames and turned into ashes any second now.

Heat steadily builds up within Kiba’s stomach. Sweat pours out of every pore all over again, making his hair stick to his forehead. His toes curl, his balls tighten. His throat gets all scratchy and dry. His brow furrows so deeply that it gives him a headache as he squeezes his eyes shut and just feels.

“Yeah… Just a lil’— fuck, yes, yes…!”

You go faster. And when he finally does tip over the edge and cums, it’s insane. 

His movements spasm, broad shoulders tense up to the point of pain. And then he’s literally growling into your mouth; making your lips and the inside of your throat vibrate as he becomes undone.

Your heart stutters at the sound. And when you feel his warm, sticky seed steadily fill your hand, it begins to dance inside your chest.

After all, there’s a literal fuckload of it, perhaps even more. His release dribbles past your knuckles and soils his sweatpants. It gushes out of him, ropes of it, all tacky and cloudy white and potent. You’ve never seen a man produce so much cum, especially not because of you. 

The sight, no, the feel of it makes you rub your thighs together as you squeeze every last droplet out of him. Before you know it, there’s a tingly sensation growing in intensity between your legs. A certain kind of heat pooling at the apex of your thighs, a certain kind of stickiness that causes your underwear to cling to your most private part.

Unsure of the reason as to why his pleasure affects you so strongly, the presence of your sudden arousal takes you by surprise and thus only makes you even more nervous as your core temperature scales higher, higher, higher.

You flinch when he kisses the corner of your swollen, kiss-bruised lips. Your cheek. Your neck. And it’s in that spot, where the curve of your shoulder starts, that he finally rests his sweat-riddled forehead and croaks out a very exhausted and very grateful, “Thank you.”

Kiba sags before you can reply, resting a great part of his weight against you and nearly making you stumble backwards because of it. Despite all of the confusion that riddles your mind at that moment, you can’t help but simply hold your best friend upright, repeatedly weaving your clean fingers through his now-damp hair in meek attempt of soothing him.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying to ignore the way your stomach feels like it’s doing flips. Who knew you had such an effect on him? Or he on you? “You’re okay. I-I mean, you’re messy, but you’re okay.”

Long moments pass. It’s hard to tell in the dark how much time has passed exactly when your phone is nowhere to be seen, but judging by how your fingers are still tacky with his now mostly dried up release, it must have been a couple of minutes at least.

“God, I didn’t think there'd be so much cum, heh... My bad,” he grunts at some point, pulling you out of your thoughts with the way he rubs the sweat on his forehead into your hoodie. Before you can scold him for it, he’s already back to burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and trying to tame his breaths. 

His exhales are warm and ticklish. They make you snicker as you try to push away from him, hiding the sensitive spot with the help of your chin. “What’re you doing?”

“Sniffin’ you,” he answers with a matter-of-fact tone, as if it’s the most normal thing for a person to do.

“Well, stop it! I already told you that it’s weird back at the store.”

“Ahh, but you smell so good.”

Another smile kicks the corners of your lips upward. You’ve always liked the little compliments he gives you. This time it’s no different. “Do I, now?”

“Mhmm,” he nearly purrs, nuzzling his nose even further into your neck until he’s got it practically smushed against your pulse point, causing it to wrinkle slightly at the bridge. “It’s sweeter than usual though, your scent. How are you feelin’?”

Ba-dum.

“Oh, you know,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. Can he tell what you’re experiencing? “A bit overwhelmed by everything that’s happened just now, but I’m fine otherwise... I think.”

A little moment of silence ensues. You’re just about to tease him and ask if he’s done interrogating you when he rasps, “You’re sure? ‘Cause I can definitely smell something other than ‘fine’ and ‘overwhelmed’.”

He sounds different again. More gruff. More tense. More demanding of an answer. 

It makes you feel cornered all of a sudden.

Before you can move, he pulls back just enough to press the side of his face against your own as he waits for your answer; perhaps giving you the comfort of avoiding eye contact, perhaps just to feel more physical touch — you don’t know. 

So, you’re cheek to cheek, now. Chest to chest. Muscle to muscle. The distance between you is nearly non-existent as you each stare at opposite corners of the tent. 

His stubble scrapes your face. Wasn’t he clean-shaven just this morning? 

Your breath warms his shoulder as he utters, “Well?”

“Yeah,” you answer as the slight prickle in your cheek yanks you back from the haze that is your thought process. Your voice is once again as wobbly as your legs are getting. It’s hard to concentrate when he’s so close. “I’m sure.”

“‘Kay,” he trails off, still not convinced. “How ‘bout…” 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Kiba leans down to press his lips to your neck again and leaves another tender kiss there, sending shivers down your spine. “Now?”

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum!

You’re quiet, but your fingers tangle into his dark hair as you latch onto him for support in a mere instant, even you’re surprised by it. The way you can feel his sharp canines grazing your throat is exhilarating. Brain working purely on autopilot, you tug at the roots at the back of his head the same moment as your eyelids flutter shut. You simply can’t help yourself.

Perhaps this bond that he’s been telling you about isn’t something only he can experience, after all.

“And now…?” he utters so softly that you can barely hear him over the sound of your quickening pulse. His hand glides from between your shoulder blades, down to the small of your back and goddammit, his palm is so broad; it’s almost comical how big of a portion of you it manages to cover. “How do you feel now?” 

“Good. I feel… good,” is all you can answer with this time. Your voice sounds so small as his touch travels over the curve of your ass and rounds the corner by landing on the front of your thigh instead. 

You don’t fail to notice the way his calloused fingertips start to glide upwards now that they’re on your leg. The claws, that must have replaced his nails at some point when you weren’t paying that much attention, drag against the stretchy material of your leggings; playful, taunting. 

It’s all so slow. Deliberate.

The sudden burst of adrenaline that rushes through your veins and nestles deep inside your belly makes you fidgety, but he keeps you nice and steady by holding the side of your head with his other hand. 

Those claws are at your inner thigh now, only inching higher.

Higher, higher, higher.

And his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers a what you could only call an exceptionally needy, “Yeah?”

“Yea-ah!” A little gasp that’s more of a moan than anything else slips out from the way he unexpectedly cups your clothed pussy into the palm of his hand.

“Scent doesn’t lie, bunny,” he says, chuckling darkly. “You should keep that in mind when you’re around someone like me, y’know.”

Shit. You’re in for it now, aren’t you? His touch is scorching hot again even through the two layers of clothes that separates you from him.

It only spurs you into action, almost making you start to grind against him as you arch your back and press yourself closer.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum! 

Your heart feels like it’s on the verge of giving out.

“We should stop, K-Ki—” You don’t succeed in saying his name fully when he applies more pressure to make you reconsider. 

The heel of his palm presses right against your clit this time. Breathless and unsure if it’s done on purpose or merely by some lucky accident, you jolt, trying to squeeze your thighs together.

He catches you when you sag against him, much like you’ve previously done when he had been the one struggling to stay upright. And surprise, surprise — he’s hard all over again. Ready to go for round two, his cock starts poking your thigh whenever you move, leaving little splotches of sticky pre-cum there. 

It causes a second heatwave to hit you as filthy thoughts begin flooding your mind. Pussy dripping at the mere idea of him attempting to push that fat, monstrous cock inside you, you let out a little sound of panic when he presses his finger right on the spot where your tight little hole is hiding under the leggings.

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” You can’t see it, but he smirks into the dark; fangs glinting with the wolfish grin that’s gotten so conceited that it hurts. “Look at that… Lil’ bunny is getting all worked up from a bit of heavy petting.”

“Am not!” you stammer with feverish need, licking your lips as your nails dig into his scalp and you grab yet another fistful of his chestnut-coloured hair. “Stop teasing me… I-I’m just— Ugh…”

“I’ll stop if you let me take your clothes off already so that I can lick you and fuck you like you obviously wanna be fucked,” he says, rubbing tight little circles right into that little button that makes you feel like there is electricity running through your veins, not blood. “How does that sound? Or are you just gonna keep grindin’ that little pussy of yours into my hand for the rest of the night?”

Before you can answer, he slides up and down your slit, making your cunt eat up your underwear and leggings, shaping it out. Your knees buckle as you rest all of your weight against him, trusting him that he’ll hold you upright.

But the problem is that he doesn’t. Instead, Kiba uses the hand that he’s holding the side of your head with to help lay you down. 

Until you’re right underneath him.

And just like that, he’s on top of you, breathing in your scent with almost a sense of urgency whilst his hand still keeps on rubbing that overwhelmingly sensitive spot between your legs. Keeps on provoking it and keeps on making you so horny that you’re barely any better than a cat in heat.

With every stroke, he’s making you hot and bothered all over again. Making you buck your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Making you sweat and whine and borderline sniffle as the upcoming tears of pent-up sexual frustration sting your waterline.

You’re about to go batshit crazy if he doesn’t do something other than pet you.

So it’s no wonder that you whimper and allow him to undress you one piece of clothing at a time, until you’ve got nothing else on but your colourful socks and your plain cotton panties are dangling from one ankle. That you let him kiss you down your neck and chest, until he’s nosing his way between your legs and licking you with that inhumanly coarse tongue to his heart’s content.

That you let him feast upon you like a man starved even if he is more monster than man; until your legs are trembling around his head and you’re seeing stars behind closed eyelids. That you let him devour your sweetness and inhale such deep, long breaths of its scent, despite that you’re feeling slightly embarrassed about it after telling him that you’re all ‘sweaty and gross’ down there after the hike, and he’s assured you at least a million times that he likes it even better that way.

And it’s no wonder that you let him spit onto your pussy as he kisses up your thigh and hovers above you, then, before he bends your legs so far back that your knees are nearly touching your ears. That you let him fold you into a mating press and align his cock with your sticky cunt at long last, his fat cockhead prodding at your tight hole that just won’t stop fluttering at even the slightest intrusion.

“Imma pound you s’good. Gonna make you cream on my cock, gonna do all of that nasty shit that I wanted to do to ya for s’long,” he babbles, his stare so ardent that it pierces right through your heart even if he’s not focused at all. The second wave of his rut has already contaminated all his thoughts and consumed him entirely. All he can think about is slamming you to your breaking point.

“Kiba, wa—…. wait,” you mewl, eyes wide open as you stare up at him. With his back hunched and his biceps flexing, every muscle and cord strained to withhold his weight, he’s gotten so big that he can barely fit inside the tent anymore. 

How in the hell is he gonna fit inside you?

“Please, I need it. Need it so, so, so bad, fuck,” he drawls almost like he isn’t completely present, his expression all dazed and stupid from how he keeps on staring between your legs. He nudges you again as he says the words, his cockhead catching against your sticky entrance once more, making you squirm. “Your cunt smells so fuckin’ sweet; it’s driving me nuts... I gotta push inside you, bunny, okay? Imma push in.”

You tremble in response, hips wiggling, legs opening a fraction wider to give him even more space because of how persistent he’s getting. When you look up at him through hooded eyelids, all you can see is how his slits for pupils dilate at the sight of the silvery string of arousal that clings to his cock now, connecting him to your cunt.

Your pussy is so wet — it’s practically drooling.

Consequently, it makes him drool, too. Saliva nearly drips down Kiba’s canines all over again.

“Just the tip, okay?” you whisper, trying to calm your heavy-pounding heart.

“Jus’ the tip, yeah,” he murmurs back with that fang-induced mumble, still so pussy drunk that he’s nearly brain-dead. His irises have turned yellow; they glow in the dark as he looks at you and says, “Jus’ the tip and nothin’ else.”

You stare at him with big, watery eyes. “You promise?”

Kiba huffs a laugh despite the fact that he looks like he’s barely keeping himself together. “‘Course I do, sweetheart.” 

Hearing him promise, you nod, and thus give him the approval that he’s been practically dying to get. “All right… But go slowly, okay? ‘Cause I’m scared.” 

“Slow, gotcha. Gonna go so slow that it won’t hurt one bit.” 

With a heartbeat that’s damn well working overtime by now, Kiba softly grunts when he finally presses into you, causing you to instantly flinch and wiggle your hips for a second time to try and accommodate him better.

“Keep still, will ya?” he chides, his patience leaving him for a quick second. “You’re twitchin’ all over the place like you’re an actual rabbit.”

“I’m trying! And shut it.” He keeps on pushing at your fussing, turning your voice higher in pitch as you say, “Shit, shit, shit… I said slowly!”

He grits his teeth, eyebrows drawing together in concentration that he doesn’t have. “This is slow.”

“Well, I-I think that you’re going way too fast.”

“Stop naggin’ me already and relax.”

“Excuse me?!”

Your mouth opens, but before you can even begin unleashing the storm that is your newly-formed fury, he leans down to press his lips against your own like the little shit he is.

Moments pass, he keeps kissing you as a means to distract you from the fact that he’s slowly filling you with his cock. And eventually, with some sweet-talking and plenty of combined effort, your pussy gives in when he adds just a little bit of force to the push, letting him break past that tight ring of muscle that your nerves must be causing.

You’re so tight that it makes the hair on the nape of his neck stand to attention when he finally slips inside, but you’re also so sloppy and dripping wet at the same time that he isn’t worried about it too much.

After all, from the way you push your head back now, pointing your chin upwards and exposing more of your neck that he feels the need to wrap his hand around and stroke it with the help of his thumb, you seem to be enjoying yourself just fine.

Nevertheless, concern — that he feels for you at all times — crosses his tight features. He’s barely holding it together, and here he is; looking out for you as he asks, “You doin’ okay?”

“Mhmm, yeah,” you utter, tensing when his touch moves from your neck down to your tits. 

He quirks a brow as he squeezes the fat of your breast and runs his thumb across your nipple this time, making you shudder. “But?”

You give him a pointed look. How can he always tell that there’s something hiding behind the reassurance? “But, you’re just so… big. Concerningly so. I’m worried about how I’m gonna take it all.”

He muses as he mocks the sound of your voice and says, “What happened to ‘just the tip, okay’?”

You huff, pouting. “Don’t make me keep it that way, you prick.”

“Okay, okay, m’sorry,” he says hurriedly, pressing what must be the hundredth kiss onto your lips. “I’ll be good, just don’t make me pull out, please.”

“What about you? Are you doing okay?” you ask, caressing his cheek with your palm. The way he instantly leans further into your touch makes your heart not only dance, but also sing. “I know this must be especially hard for you.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles lamely, convincing neither of you. And then he sighs at the way you roll your eyes at him in answer. “I just… I want—”

“More?” you suggest.

A prominent blush sears his cheeks. Since when did he blush so much? He’s also sweating like crazy all over again as he says, “Yeah.”

“All right.” Carefully, you nod your head yes once more as you remind him, “I’ll give you more. But slowly, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. How he doesn’t puncture the rosy skin with the action, you don’t understand. “I’ll go nice n’ easy on ya. Cross my heart.”

Well, he’ll try at least.

And Kiba does try to go nice and easy, he really does. But it’s hard for him to keep his cool when the beast keeps on howling in his veins and the bond that chains him to you screams at him to brand every last inch of your skin and soul alike.

He’s nearly trembling all over by the time he sinks balls deep into you and his dark pubic hair kisses your clit.

But at long last, you’ve become one.

“Fuck.”

“That feels so—”

“Good. That feels so fuckin’ good, goddamn.”

“I-I’m so… full.”

“You’re welcome.”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

“What d’you think?” 

“I think—”

“Woah, look, I’m even makin’ your belly bulge a bit.”

“Ew, ew, ew! That’s so gross.”

“What? No, it ain’t. I actually think it’s kind of cool-lookin’.”

“Stop poking it!”

“Nu-uh.”

Your ankles cross at the middle of his back when he presses his hand to your tummy, colourful socks scraping tan skin. The way you clench around him when he digs his fingers into the bulge makes Kiba wish he had the ability to purr.

“Move,” you squeak out, breath hitching at how the tip of his cock has managed to snuggle right next to your goddamn cervix. “Need you to… move. It’s too much! Kiba, please.”

He tries not to show how happy he is to do as you tell him, but fails with the way his entire face literally lights up as he says, “Like this?”

“Yeah,” you answer quickly, savoring every last bit of friction he gives you now. The rhythm he’s chosen is surprisingly laggard, even if he looks like he’s just about to start bursting at the seams. “Y-yeah, like that.”

Kiba likes the way you sound when you’ve got something fucking into you at a steady pace, but it’s even better that that something is him. Now that he thinks about it, the tone is pretty similar to the one you used to have after every gym class back in high school.

God, did he like seeing those tight shorts on you every Wednesday. Good memories.

A proper moan — the first amongst many — suddenly leaves your mouth, coaxing him away from his trip down memory lane and urging him to make you keep talking, talking, talking as he asks, “You need me just as much as I need you, don’tcha?”

“Pfsh. I never said… that,” you drawl with a click of a tongue as your breathing picks up. Every time he draws his hips back and pushes them back into you feels like he’s reshaping your entire goddamn cunt. Not an unpleasant sensation necessarily, but it definitely takes some time getting used to. 

“‘Kay, but listen to all this noise you’re making now that I’ve stuffed your lil’ bunny cunt full,” he says, his eyes glowing with mischief and that sublime yellow colour. “Bet no other man could make you sound like that, huh?”

They’re lazy but deep, the thrusts. Filled with intent. With arrogance and urgency that hides just beneath the surface, waiting to pounce. They reach parts of you that you’ve never even thought could be touched. They make slick dribble down his balls, until it’s all dripping right onto the sleeping bags you’re fucking on top of.

It’s all so audible and loud. Messy. The occasional sound of skin slapping against skin. The wet squelching noises between you. The constant whimpering and his growling grunts, steadily growing in volume.

And you’re going slow.

“Yeah, well that’s ‘cause you’re no man, you dummy,” you bite back when you’re more familiar and comfortable with each other and the connection, trying to be witty even if it’s hard to keep your mind from breaking into shambles.

“Is that so?” He’s breathing hard, picking up his pace, going harder. “Then what am I?”

A dazed smile curls your lips. “You’re a dirty, dirty dog.”

Kiba could agree with that statement to some degree, perhaps. Even if he dislikes the particular term you’ve used.

After all, you have no idea how he’s gotten himself off with a pair of panties that he’d swiped from your drawer and wrapped around his fist back in senior year. Or how he’d turned embarrassingly hard after almost every hug and had to play it cool even if he was sweating bullets from trying to hide the raging boner in his pants. Or how he’s fantasized and fantasized and fantasized; only watching porn with actresses that shared similarities with you because nothing else seemed to work.

You don’t have a clue about any of that.

And he hopes it stays that way.

“Hah.” An almost mean snicker leaves his lips as he unexpectedly slams into you, making you squeal out a particularly nasty curse and causing your pussy to outright gush at the intrusion. “Careful, sweetheart. If you keep on saying things like that, I’ll be more than happy to treat ya like the dirty dog you say I am.”

“Will you, though?” you challenge playfully, stroking down his back with the heel of your foot.

He sneers as he answers, “I will if you keep on testin’ me.”

“But I thought you said that you’re bonded to me?” 

“Yeah,” he says. “So?”

“So, doesn’t that mean that you can’t hurt me?”

He blinks, surprised. “Who said anything ‘bout hurting you…? I’d just mount you.”

Your expression copies his own. “Mount… me?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, temperature suddenly flaring up at the thought. “You know… the same way animals fuck.”

Heat creeps up your neck at the crude way he explains it. “Oh.”

Kiba’s lips quirk upwards when he catches a whiff of the subtle change in your scent. You’re flustered at the idea, smelling even sweeter now that there are no clothes to buffer the prominent notes of arousal. “I take it that you wanna try it?”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. A wave of sweat washes over you, toes curling. “What— No!”

“Oh, c’mon,” he pushes gently, helping you out. “Scent doesn’t lie, remember? You’ll like it, I promise.” 

“And if I don’t?” you ask.

He nudges your chin with the tip of his nose. “If you don’t, we’ll stop. Simple as that.”

“Okay, but can you stop?” You angle your head so that he can press a kiss to your cheek. “When you’re like this… under the influence of a rut. Can you stop?”

Silence hangs in the air as he pulls away to look at you, his expression suddenly somber despite the glaze of unbridled lust that still coats his unnatural eyes. 

“I’d never hurt you,” he finally says. “I’d rather die than hurt my mate, that’s why I was ready to leave before.”

Kiba’s voice is stone cold serious. The intensity he chooses to speak with so that he can get his point across causes butterflies to spring free inside your belly.

You can still feel them fluttering around by the time his clawed hands manhandle you into the position he wants. Laying on your stomach now, you let out a little noise of surprise when his weight presses you further down into the silky nylon of the sleeping bags the moment he tops you.

He’s heavy, taking the profound size difference into account, but you’re pleased to find out that it’s the kind of weight that comforts you instead of suffocating you. You feel warm. Safe.

“Can I…?” he trails off.

His exhale tickles the back of your neck, making the hairs there rise to attention as you shiver and say, “Well, that’s what I’m here for, aren’t I?”

“Oh, sorry, my bad,” he says. “I thought you were here for the s’mores.”

“Not funny— oh.”

Your back arches and your anger dissipates into nothing as soon as he begins to push inside you again, careful not to stuff you full too fast. After all, while it might be easier to fit him inside you this time thanks to your earlier endeavours, it still remains to be no small task.

He’s as careful and considerate as he’s able to be in the state that he’s in. He pushes gently, but pushes nonetheless. By the time he sinks into you to the hilt and pauses to give you a minute, you’re both panting like you’ve just ran a marathon.

“You doin’ okay, bunny?” he rasps, voice so low and growly that it really does make you think you’re getting fucked by an animal. Or a beast, if you’d have to specify it.

“Yep, mhmm…!” You squeak out, your voice so high-pitched that it must surely hurt or at least agitate his ultra-sensitive hearing. You’re happy that he can’t see the fucked out expression that sits on your face right now. “Doing a-okay.”

“Don’t try to run away, now,” he teases when you wiggle your hips, trying to readjust yourself. “Or else the hunting instinct is gonna kick in.”

“Not to worry,” you practically chirp, feeling your body slipping into a fever at the way his big, calloused palm presses into the small of your back. “I’m staying put.”

He chuckles at how submissive he’s made you sound, at how there’s a prominent sheen of sweat gathering on your spine. Gliding his finger down your dewy skin, Kiba catches himself wishing to lick you clean of salt, but at the same time he just knows that you’d cause a fuss about it if he’d even mention the mere idea of it.

So for the following minutes, he doesn’t speak.

And neither do you.

You can’t speak from how deep he’s pushed himself inside you, anyway. No, all you can do is moan and whimper uselessly as he then proceeds to fuck you, to make love to you, to break you apart just to reassemble you until you’re whole again; all in the position he likes best.

He makes you sweat. Makes you cry out to him as you allow yourself to get lost in deeply-rooted carnal pleasure and you need his help to bring you back to morality. At some point, his arm even ends up reaching underneath you and wrapping around your stomach just so he can hold your hips up when you try to crawl away despite telling him that you’re going to stay put earlier.

Judging by the way you’re reacting to him, Kiba guesses that he’ll have to carry you down the hill when morning comes. 

Meanwhile, you’re unsure if it’s the bond that’s making you feel this wild or the simple fact that he’s not entirely human. However, when you at long last feel yourself clenching around him, and when that tight, almost unbearable heat that’s inside your tummy finally spills free and spreads throughout your whole body, you realize that you don’t really care what the reason behind your sudden recklessness might be.

“Fuck. M’not gonna last long, sweetheart… No fuckin’ way that I’m gonna last when your cunt’s milkin’ me dry like that,” Kiba grunts out as he feels you gush and start creaming on his cock. There’s a ring of milky slick gathering at his base already — the sight and sound of it turns his thrusts jerky and irregular. 

“Don’t get scared of the knot now, okay?” His upper lip trembles as he swallows hard. “It’ll be there just for a minute, I swear.”

“Knot…? What’s a—Oh, my gosh, Kiba; I am going to fucking murder you!”

The sudden swelling you feel inside your pussy practically bullies its way up to your cervix as he hunches his back and gives you one last, final push. 

Your toes curl as the ‘knot’ — or whatever he calls it — plugs you, and also succeeds in making you entirely rigid in return. Every last inch of your body feels tingly from the foreign sensation as he lets out one final groan, that sounds more like a pained whimper than anything else, and simply fills you up to the brim with warm, thick, endless ropes of cum that paint your abused walls entirely white and simply refuse to spill out of you.

You stare off into the darkness, listening to his ragged breathing whilst trying to tame your own. Eventually, his cock softens enough for your cunt to not feel like it’s going to fucking explode from the fullness. And as soon as that happens, he drops down upon poor, unsuspecting you; feeling completely, utterly exhausted.

Your werewolf best friend is squishing you flat like a pancake and is spoiling you with messy kisses after fucking you like an animal in the middle of the woods. And you’re just… fine with that?

The realization makes you smile.

Maybe living your life on the edge for once and being a little bit spontaneous isn’t as bad as you think.

———

“I really hope that your pills can withstand all that werewolf cum I’ve just pumped into ya, ya know. ‘Cause otherwise we’re gonna be having an entire litter of pups.”

“For the love of god, can you please use your lowly developed frontal lobe for like a second of your miserable life, and just keep watch like I told you to?”

“This is pointless. There’s literally no one here besides us and a couple of deer.”

“Shush! I’m trying to pee and I can’t do that when you keep on running your big-ass mouth!”

“Words, words, words; I am saying so many words just so that you won’t be able to piss.”

“Shut up already!”

With his back turned towards you and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweatpants, Kiba fights back a laugh as he listens to you relieve yourself in the nearby tall grass. 

After fucking you close to stupidity nearly three times in a row now — and mounting you twice during those three times — the young werewolf feels somewhat content with himself at long last. 

He’s fucked most of the rut out of his system by now. Besides that, you’ve also talked a lot, apologized to each other, and cleared up some misunderstandings. He’s even managed to place a hickey on that spot on your neck where your scent is the strongest and where, he hopes, you’ll let him place an actual bite mark someday.

But for now, you’re taking it slow. On Saturday, he’s taking you out to dinner at that little restaurant by the lake that you’ve always liked visiting with your parents. 

And who knows, maybe after you share dessert together, you might even go for a swim so that he has an excuse to take his shirt off in front of you and you get to make fun of him for it, or whatever.

So lost in his thoughts and all the planning he has yet to start pondering through, Kiba barely hears the rustle of your footsteps when you approach him from behind. 

He tenses, whipping his head in your direction only a millisecond before you manage to put away your travel sized packet of baby wipes that he teases you for constantly carrying around with you, and you place your hand on his shoulder.

Your eyebrows rise up towards your hairline in response to his visible startlement. “Did I just manage to sneak up on the so-called ‘apex predator’?”

“You wish,” he says as he absent-mindedly brushes you off. “I could smell ya from a mile away.”

You frown. “That’s so mean!”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he drawls, sighing. “It’s just that you smell like me, now… It stands out.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” You stick your tongue at him, looking up at him with your hands on your hips. In the moonlight, he’s even handsomer than usual in that weirdly rugged way that only he can pull off. “Can we go back inside the tent now? I’m exhausted after the entire...”

“Fuckfest?” he offers with a tricksy grin.

“Shut it!” you chide before you shove your phone’s flashlight right into his face as punishment.

Back inside the tent, you don’t have any sort of trouble with undressing yourself in front of your best friend this time. Your hoodie and t-shirt are tossed off, leggings following soon after — until you’re curling up against his strong chest in nothing else but your socks and underwear.

His body temperature isn’t nearly as hot as it was before, but the skin on skin contact provides you with enough warmth to be comfortable as you turn around to face him.

Kiba’s hair is mussed and his eyelids are already hooded with upcoming sleep when he lifts them just barely enough to look at you. The rut really has taken a toll on him; on the both of you alike.

“What is it now?” he mumbles lazily.

“Do you think,” you start, swallowing hard. “Do you think that we’re going to be okay?”

He smiles, the quirk of his lips faint. “I know we will.”

“And our friendship?” you ask, pressing your palm against his chest. “Do you think all of this is going to ruin it?”

“Nah, I think it’s goin’ to make it even better,” he says, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he settles back. He yawns, rubbing his eye as he mutters, “Besides, we’re gonna take it slow. Just like you’ve said.”

“And you’re fine with that?” you ask.

“‘Course I am,” he replies sleepily.

“Why?”

“Because you’re important to me,” he says. “So if you want to go slow, we’ll go as slow as goddamn snails if we have to.”

You let out a little laugh that sounds like wind chimes to him. “You’re so lame.”

Kiba grins, his heart fluttering at the sight of your smile. “Not as lame as you.”

And maybe, just maybe, going steady and experiencing peace for a change isn’t so bad either.

tags: @his-sweet-minx @rookie98writes @qichun @redskyvenus @simply-chillin-here @shanjisan

#kiba x reader #kiba smut #naruto smut #biscuit fics #kiba inuzuka x reader #naruto x reader #cw breeding #cw monsterfucking #cw omegaverse #cw knotting #kinktober #kiba inuzuka

[imaginaryf1shots]

Falling | Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x photographer!reader

WC: 2.1K

Warnings: none

AN: Could’ve made it more angst but I was in the mood for fluff. I don’t think it’s my best work but I love it. I’m a bit tired and I wanted to post this so excuse the any mistakes.

REQUESTED

I hope you like it.

Masterlist

Charles walked into the paddock in his team’s kit, he was so out of it today for some reason. His manager was walking with him telling him everything he’ll be doing for the day, he was half listening half lost in his own thoughts. So it made perfect sense why he wouldnt see you, you were crouched down taking pictures of Lando who was posing for you.

Charles all but fell on top of you, you had just enough sense in you to move your expensive camera away from the ground. Letting a soft curse escape your lips at the impact. Charles manages to catch himself just in time not to crush you. You were on your side and Charles was on his hands and knees beside you. Lando? He was on the floor laughing, laughing at your wide and shocked eyes.

Sitting up you looked at the Ferrari driver, who was on his knees dusting his hands, making you both now sitting next to each other. It was then that Charles saw you for the first time. Your hat was on backwards so he had full access to see your face. His eyes moved all over your face taking you in, he never saw you before he’s sure of it, there's noway he’d seen you before and forgotten, your face isn’t the type to be forgotten.

“Are you okay?… You didn't hit your head did you.” It took Charles a moment to realise you were talking to him, he blinked a couple of times, and cleared his throat, Lando watched amused(He’ll be proud later on to be there when you first met). You had a smile on your face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, are you okay?” Charles checked you for any injuries, he got up and offered you his hand, which you gave him, your soft hand in contrast to his calloused one.

“As long as my baby is okay, I’m okay.” You said waving the camera in indication. “You know you could’ve asked for pictures if you wanted, didn’t have to run me over.”

“I uh, I’m sorry I wasn’t focused.” Charles apologised realising he never apologised.

“It’s alright.” You gave him a smile.

“Charles.” Charles braved and put his hand out for you to shake, you placed your hand back in his telling him your name, before anything else could be exchanged he was pulled away and you went back to the mini photoshoot you were doing to a still amused Lando.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Let’s say this wasn’t the last time you saw Charles, in fact he became one of the drivers who always posed for you and let you take pictures of him, and the fans had more pictures of Charles to rate in their weekly outfit rating when it came to the drivers.

“Come on, why won’t you take pictures of me?” Charles asked following you around the paddock, you were looking through the pictures you already took of him, and there were quite the few that were perfect, in your opinion.

“Charles I literally took over 50 of you just now, I’m not a Ferrari photographer you know.” You told the monegasque driver and stopped in your tracks suddenly he almost crashed into you, again. “Look at this one, you look so good here.”

“I always look good.” He said with a scoff, you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t admit that he’s right, it’s hard to take a bad picture of him. Charles looked at the picture over your shoulder, he was standing so close to you, you felt his body heat.

“I seriously have to go.” You told the driver, after a moment, looking at your watch. stepping away from the Ferrari driver you turned to face him. “Once I’m done with Ethan I can take more pictures of you.”

“You’re going to take some of Ethan, now?” Charles frowned, his upbeat mode gone, but you didn’t really realise too focused on what you had to do.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later Charles.” Charles clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes before he left for Ferrari’s motorhome.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you were at Ferrari’s motorhome, you were getting food from there that day, Ethan your cousin was in a meeting so you weren’t at Williams’ cafeteria. Taking your food you found the two Ferrari drivers sitting at a table, you smiled to yourself as you watched Charles talk animatedly with Carlos.

“Care if I join you?” You asked the two.

“Yeah, sit down.” Carlos said and Charles groaned with a teasing smile. You glared at the male but sat down next to him.

“It’s great to know that Ferrari has such a welcoming atmosphere.” You said to Carlos ignoring Charles.

“Yeah, this welcome is only for you.” Carlos said and gave Charles a look, the Monegasque kicked his leg under the table. Carlos smirked and shook his head. It didn’t take long before Charles started nicking food from your plate, unlike the duo you weren’t on a strict diet, your plate looked more appetising than his.

“Why are you so annoying, go get your own food.” You said after the fifth fry was stolen from your plate.

“Because annoying you is what I’m best at.” Charles smirked and stole another fry.

“Come on mate, she needs all the food she gets, running around the paddock all day.” Carlos has found himself always amused watching the both of you. Him and Lando have a standing bet on when Charles will confess, the former teammates are waiting for him to get the courage, since you seemed oblivious of Charles’ raging crush on you.

“Honestly Carlos you’re becoming my favourite Ferrari driver.” You said and quickly pulled your plate away from Charles’ attack, your eyes met in a challenge narrowing slightly. Your plate kept moving left and right as Charles’ fork kept coming back.

“How come someone so tiny can be so annoying?” Charles asked giving up on eating from your plate.

“Well I never thought an F1 driver could be stupid but here you are.” Carlos burst out laughing, you bit back a laugh as Charles blinked and stunted.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Charles heard your laughter before he saw you, he couldn’t help but smile. When he rounded the corner his shoulders deflated and the smile on his face fell away. There you are again taking pictures of Ethan and joking around with the rookie. You’re 80% of the time just taking pictures of him, you both looked close and very comfortable with each other. You had your head thrown back in laughter as you both stood so close looking at the pictures on your camera. There’s nothing that the rookie could do that's this funny, in Charles’ opinion anyway.

“Why won’t you ask her out?” Pierre asked coming up behind his friend, he followed his sight and it fell on the female photographer. The female is well known now in the paddock and she took some crazy good photos of him and Kika last week.

“What are you talking about?” Charles acted confused and turned to walk the way he came from, Pierre followed him, determined to make his friend see reason and admit his feelings. Plus the bet money just doubled as more people also placed their bets.

“Come on now, just because she’s blind doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” Pierre said and rolled his eyes. “You’re going the wrong way.”

Charles stopped and looked around, seeing where he was and where he’s going. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how, okay?”

“You don’t know how…” Pierre was confused.

“I-I’ve never asked a girl out before, they’ve-they’ve always been the ones to approach me first.” Charles mumbled and Pierre couldn’t help but laugh, Charles cursed his friend and went to turn away when Pierre stopped him.

“WAit, wait, just tell her you like her and want to take her out for dinner or something, it’s simple.” Pierre said getting over his laughter when he saw Charles was serious and really didn’t know how to ask you out. “Isn’t she supposed to have a mini photoshoot with you today?” ‘yeah’ “Ask her then.”

“I don’t know.” Charles mumbled.

“Think about it.” Pierre patted his back in encouragement.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Charles thought about it, he did, but every time he got the courage and told himself to just ask you out, he remembered all the times he’s found you with Ethan, the hugs he’s seen you share after races, the hundreds upon hundreds of pictures you have of him, your professional instagram is filled with the Williams driver. It irked him how the rookie could get you, he hated it, he really did. so he decided to sulk in his driver’s room.

Charles was brought out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door. He was laying back on his bed. ‘come in.’

he didn’t expect you to come in, he sat up on the bed. You timidly closed the door behind you but didn’t move further in the room, it’s your first time in a driver’s room that wasn’t your cousin’s.

“I was looking for you, a-are we having the shoot?” For some reason you found yourself nervous, Charles and your relationship has always been light and easy going so the heavy air around you both didn’t make any sense at the moment. “Are you not feeling up to it?”

“I thought you’d take photos of Ethan.” Charles said bitterly, you frowned at his words, he clearly didn’t like your cousin by the way he spat his name.

“No, I finished with him today… Do you not like him or something? Did he do something?” You asked and for those who know that you’re related to Ethan can tell that you’re asking for a place of an older sister, but to Charles it didn’t sound like that.

“No.”

“You can tell me, I’ll tell his mum.” You tried to joke but Charles didn’t react to your words at all, sighing you moved closer to him, he was still on his bed looking up at you. “What has my cousin done now?”

A long moment of silence and recognition flickered over Charles face.

“Cousin?”

“Yeah?” yYou were confused at his confusion now. “What did Ethan do?”

“I- I didn't know he was your cousin.” Charles muttered, you raised an eyebrow with a small smile.

“If not a cousin or a brother then, there’s no way I’d spend that much time taking pictures of a single person if I wasn’t under the threat of family.” You joked and sat on the very edge of the bed besides Charles.

“it - it makes sense.” Charles was talking to himself at the moment he connected the dots, it looked like he was debating something with himself while rethinking all his life decisions. He looked from his fingers up to meet your eyes, your breath hitched in your throat and in this moment you understood why you felt nervous. This is the first time you’ve been completely alone with the Ferrari driver. “Do you want to go out to dinner?”

“W-what?” Your eyes went wide, this came out of nowhere.

“Can I take you out on a date?” Charles has no idea where this courage came out from but the more she took to answer he started to doubt himself.

“A date?” It seemed like the only thing you can get yourself to say is to repeat what he was saying.

“I thought I was stupid.” Charles raised an eyebrow, you jokingly hit his shoulder and glared at him, but as he held your gaze.

“I would like to go on a date with you.” Both your cheeks flushed with colour and suddenly you aren’t able to keep eye contact. “I didn’t know you liked me like that.”

“We’ll, you trapped me the first time we met.” Charles joked remembering the first time you met.

“Me? You literally fell down the first time you saw me.” You replied straight away. “Some would say you fell right in love with me.”

“I don’t know about love, but I really like you.” Again you were left speechless, cheeks pink, you hid your face away from him by leaning your forehead on his shoulder. Charles couldn’t stop himself from hugging you and kissing the side of your head, unknowingly making it worse for you. Taking a deep breath you pulled back and pushed your hair back. “Do you want to take pictures now?”

“I don’t know, you did miss your appointment.”

“You should feel honoured to take pictures of me.”

“I feel sick.”

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Lando will definitely be telling everyone how he was there when Charles fell in love with you.

Carlos and Pierre won the bet.

username here's some of my favourite @/y/ntwt photos of @/charles_leclerc this year

username yn really has been working hard 👏 🤧

username no because what did she say to have him smiling like this!! ART 🙌

username forget what she said, look at how he looks at her (the 2nd pic isn't by her but he's looking at her) 👀👀

username we should all say thank you yn! 🥰🥰

#charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #charles leclerc x reader #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc one shot #requested #charles leclerc smau

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Baby number two’s gender reveal (Baby Daddy Au: Husband Miguel sequels)

Baby daddy Masterlist

Little fyi, this is a time jump till after they got back together. Also it’s implied that reader is of Latino origin but it doesn’t outright say it so take that as you will. I’m being VERY self-indulgent with this one lol.

Not proofread.

Word count: 700

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!

—

“Wow, Gabriel really went all out…” You mumbled to your husband as you finally found your way back to him after greeting some more family from your side, your hand subconsciously going to rest on the now noticeable baby bump that was sticking out from your dress.

Almost all of both yours and Miguel’s family crammed into his younger brother’s backyard. Children running around, tios drinking, tias gossiping, banda playing while your mother helped Conchata serve the food, and both your siblings running around trying to keep everything running. (Uncles, aunts)

“You know how my brother is. He’s just excited to have another nephew or niece running around when he visits.” Miguel joked, handing you a cup of agua Fresca, pineapple to be more specifical, his arm going around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Have you seen Gabriella?” You asked as you waved over to your sister, watching as she and her brother in law went up to the banda they hired for the party.

“She’s with Peter and Mj, she wanted to play with Mayday.” He replied, to which you only let out a hum and a nod, feeling your nerves start to bubble as you saw Gabriel motion to your sister, who had a white bag in her hand. Miguel must have noticed the way you tensed up a bit, because he turned you to face him instead. “What do you think it to be, amor?” (Love)

“I’m okay with whatever. You?” You raise a brow up to your husband, bring your cup up to finish your drink before pressing your lips together in a thin line in a half-ass attempt to fix your lipgloss.

“Same here, although I wouldn’t be upset to see another little girl as beautiful as her mother.” Voice dropping as his tone shifts to a bit of a mix with a tease and a flirt, making your cheeks flesh as you lightly hit his chest.

“Stop it, we’re in front of family.” You faux annoyance and he pulled you closer, knowing you were enjoying the teasing as much as he was. He knew too, by the way your hands went to hug his waist. The way his lips came up in a smirk before he placed gentle kisses on your cheek made your heart flutter.

“Con permiso, con permiso.” The air that was once filled with music was now taken over with Gabriel’s voice as he held one of the microphones in his hands. Everyone’s chattering quickly died down as they turned towards the younger O’Hara brother, excitement oozing from all the guests as he cleared his throat before continuing. “It's almost the time we’re all here for, my dear brother and sister-in-law, finally welcoming a new O’Hara in the world after twelve long years.” Some laughs and some whistles blew out as Gabriel motioned for you both and your daughter to go join him up in front next to the band. Your cheeks started to hurt from smiling so much, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. (Excuse me everyone/attention please)

“Are you excited to find out what your little sibling is gonna be?” Gabriel asked his niece as he put the microphone back on its stand, trying to help distract the buzzing preteen as she tried to peek around her uncle to see if she could get a peak under the drummer cymbal’s to see if she could see the color of the powder underneath it.

“Mhm! I can’t wait!”

It’s as if with perfect timing to her words, the Banda starts to play. Your hand grips Miguel’s tightly in anticipation, he gives you a reassuring squeeze of the hand and a quick forehand kiss before pulling Gabriella closer to him. The three of you silently wait for the cymbals to raise and crash together.

After a few more seconds, you finally see the drummer's arm raise up, and with a dramatic crash, pink dust begins to fill the air. Yells of excitement over took the music as the band kept playing, Miguel taking you and Gabriella in his arms as you felt tears begin to form.

“I’m gonna have a baby sister!”

“It’s a girl! Mig, It’s a girl!”

“Thank you so much baby, I’m gonna have another angel thanks to you.”

—

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry @scaleniusrm @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanmee @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths @nxxav3rs3 @ilovespiderverseeee @ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade @rinnako @reirain @nommingonfood

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #bd!miguel #baby daddy!miguel #husband Miguel sequels #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel ohara drabble

[surftrips]

BAD REPUTATION | LUKE CASTELLAN

DISTRACTION — CHAPTER 03

pairing luke castellan x fem!ares!reader

summary y/n's guitar practicing is interrupted several times.

author's note slowly introducing more of the social media aus into these fics! you can view all of the characters’ twitter accounts here.

→ installment of this au read for context

The weather outside was beautiful. Kids were strewn out around camp, some were by the lake while others found shade in the armory or stables. You, however, were in your cabin all alone. You knew that this was one of the few times it would be empty, so you snuck away from archery to practice your other instrument– your guitar. 

You began strumming the first few notes to a song you had been working on. Quietly singing the lyrics to yourself, you were reminded of a time before camp.

It was back when you were still with him. You recall how your back leaned against his as he helped move your fingers to the correct strings, how he guided your hands to the right positions, he was always so patient with you. But that had all come crashing down when the monsters in your head became real, too real for him to deal with. 

Anyway, that was a long time ago now. You went back to strumming your guitar and tried to push the memory away, but you couldn’t. You hated that he still occupied your mind, no matter how hard you tried to move on. 

You thought that coming here would help, and it did for a while. Other boys became distractions and temporary fixes, but then there was Luke, who confused and terrified you.

When Annabeth and Clarisse brought him up at your sleepover the other night, you felt the need to hide. The bravest girl in camp, and you couldn’t face your own feelings. It made you feel weak, and you hated that.

Realizing that you got distracted once again, you resumed singing for a third time. 

It wasn’t long before you heard the sound of keys dropping followed by“shit.” You looked up from where you were sitting cross-legged in bed to see who it was.

“Hello?” you called out.

A bashful curly-haired boy peeked his head into your door. You frowned. 

“Hey Y/N, sorry for interrupting you,” Percy said, slowly. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be training right now?”

“Y-yes,” the boy stammered. “But Luke needed me to get something from Hermes cabin for him.”

“You do realize this is Ares, right?” 

“Right, I just-” 

“Just…?” You knew you were being a little rude to the boy, but it had been a while since you messed with the campers. You couldn’t have them thinking you went soft all of a sudden. 

“Sorry, I was just walking by and I heard someone singing and I figured it must be you, so I just stopped for a second to listen.”

“Okay, stalker.” 

“I wasn’t stalking, I swear!”

“Whatever, just get going before Luke gets mad at you too.” 

Not needing you to tell him twice, Percy rushed away. Sighing, you went back to your guitar for the umpteenth time. 

📥 INCOMING MESSAGE FROM: PERCY

You enjoyed about 30 more minutes of peace before you heard a soft knock on your door. Grumbling, you climbed out of bed, ready to scare the camper away. 

“I swear to god-” you started.

“Hey, hey, I come here in peace,” Luke put his hands up defensively. 

“Ironic because you’re actually disturbing my peace. What is it with everyone bothering me today?” 

“Look, I came here to apologize for Percy earlier.”

“You wasted your time because this could have been a text then,” you said. You were usually nicer to Luke than the rest of the campers, but you hadn’t been in a good mood recently, not since the sleepover and not since you started working on this song. 

He must have noticed your change in attitude toward him because he asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “And even if it weren’t, I’m not going to bother you with my problems.” 

“You’re not a bother,” he responded sincerely. 

“Well, I’m glad you think that. But us Ares kids, we have to take care of ourselves. I’m used to it.” 

“Just because you’re used to something doesn’t mean it’s the way things should be.” 

“Oh, my bad, Castellan. I didn’t take you for a philosopher.” 

“Alright, whatever. I just came to apologize for Percy, I’ll leave you to your moping.” 

“Hey! I’m not moping!” you said, defensively. 

“It sure does look like it,” he said, scanning the room and landing on the mess of sheets on your bed and the snack bags you had discarded haphazardly on the floor. 

“I’ll have you know I’m actually working on a very special project, so. This is what the room of an artist looks like.” 

“Oh?” he chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Mhm, I can show you.” 

“Alright, bet,” he found a spot next to you on your bed and watched as you set up your guitar. 

You strummed the first few verses of your song, hyper-aware of how close the boy next to you was right now. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and closed your eyes as you slowly allowed yourself to lean into him, softly singing the lyrics. 

When you got to the chorus, you cleared your throat. “Uhm, here is where I’m getting stuck a bit, because everyone keeps barging in here.” 

“Is this the part where you ask me to leave then?”

You stared into his brown eyes. You wondered how anyone’s eyes could look so soft, could hold so much emotion. Did he look at everyone like this? 

“Y/N?” he said, after a moment.

Shit, how long were you staring at him for? And was your mouth open the entire time? 

“Sorry, I thought I saw something in your eye. Probably just a piece of dust,” you laughed nervously. “Uhm, yeah, I think I need another hour or something to finish this song, but I’ll see you at the campfire tonight, yeah?”

If Luke was disappointed, he didn’t look it. “Yeah, of course, I gotta head back to my counselor duties anyway.” 

He saluted you playfully as he turned around to leave, being sure to close the door after him.

#bad rep fic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x you

[disneyprincemuke]

it was only a kiss * fem!driver

it's just a kiss. surely, it isn't that big of a deal, right?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: LOL i'll write her race win and post it this week i swear!!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

logan does not know when he started to go against his better judgment. it could have been the shots they were taking with dalton earlier in the evening, or perhaps it was when they locked themselves away in her room to eat the birthday pancakes she had gotten him.

maybe it’s a thing that just consumed him at the moment — the fireworks as the new year came and greeted them was an atmosphere he simply could not resist her in.

because he kissed her– no, he’s kissing her. right now. against all his rationalisation, without warning, without permission. without even thinking about it.

the last thing he remembers is her turning to him with a wide smile wishing him a happy new year and suddenly he was hunched over with their lips locked. everything seems to go slowly now like he was trying to savour the moment and remember the way she tastes for the rest of his life.

he didn’t know how long it took her back to start kissing him back, but she did, eventually. she put her hands on either side of his face and everything else just fell away. logan had never been the type to get so lost in a kiss before. his heart is skipping beats as he tries her damnest to pull her closer to him, as if their bodies are not already pressed up on one another.

suddenly all the things he’s spent the past 3 years worrying about didn’t matter. not one thought about how their friendship is too great to risk it for pops up currently, and definitely nothing about the neverending excuses about their jobs and their places in their lives now.

and it’s nothing less for her. when he bent down and crashed his lips onto hers, suddenly they were the only 2 people in the house. she barely heard the fireworks crack the sky apart or the way dalton looked up from the backyard to greet them, only to raise his eyebrows and giggle to himself as he went away to get more drinks.

nothing matters. just the fact that she and logan are finally kissing. after 9 years of friendship and 3 long years pining over him, this is their first kiss and the first time she’s getting to know his mouth.

it’s devastating — they should have been kissing the moment they realised they had feelings for one another, she thinks. her lips feel so at home against his like it was a match made in heaven.

it just feels so right.

logan doesn’t want to be the one to pull away. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he saw her snuggled in his bed 3 years ago and realised that he no longer saw her as a best friend. and neither does she; the feel of his lips against hers is not one that she wants to forget.

yet, the world is cruel that way.

they pull away at the same time, stumbling back with swollen lips and heaving chests. their eyes are wide, and she blinks rapidly as if she still can’t believe what had just happened.

how long were they kissing? he glances over the balcony and notices that the crowd once gathered for the fireworks has now dispersed into different areas of the backyard.

“i’m sorry,” logan says immediately, sensing the hesitation coming from her. he shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the intensity of the moment they’d just shared. “oh, god. i’m so sorry.”

“i,” she trails off, looking down at her hands. she’s yearned to have this feeling for years; she’s afraid that one sudden move might reveal that it’s just another dream and she’d wake up by herself in her bed. she looks up again with a soft sigh. “logan.”

she says his name and he feels all his defenses crumbling down in an instant. his name only ever sounds good when it rolls off her tongue.

“i don’t know what came over me,” logan starts to explain, still shaking his head. “i’m so so sorry. i didn’t–“

she shakes her head and takes a step forward, hands in the air in an attempt to calm him down. “logan. relax.” she takes another step forward with caution and grins very slightly as she takes his hand into hers. “do you wanna go get a drink first?”

truthfully, logan wants to kind of kiss her again. he’d waited this long, held himself back from the urge to want his best friend wholeheartedly only for him to realise that kissing her was just as dreamy as he imagined it would be.

he looks up from the ground when she squeezes his hand. she doesn’t say anything else, but there is something about the way she smiles up at him that compels his brain to quiet down for a minute. he nods and lets her pull him towards the door, he’s assuming to make an appearance at the party downstairs.

but oh, god, someone needs to tell him how to resist the urge to do the same thing again.

so they don’t talk about the kiss all night. instead of actually talking about it, they decided to join the party downstairs and drown themselves in alcohol until the sun rose. you know, doing the one thing they’re actually not foreign to.

even worse when she briefly remembered the way they’ve — at one point or another — said ‘i love you’ to one another while drunk off their minds at least once in the past 3 years.

and instead of talking about it after the party, stumbling back into her guest bedroom, they climbed under the covers and slept instead. next to one another. which wouldn’t be an issue since they’ve slept in the same bed multiple times, but this time was different.

it’s different because they’re tangled in one another with the blankets strewn over their bodies.

all logan can think of after he opens his eyes is how he’s finally where he's wanted to be after years of dancing around the thought of them. he looks down and is immediately enamoured by the way her arm is slung over his body, face nuzzled into the side of his body as her chest rises and falls steadily.

it feels surreal to finally get the girl he wants for a change. but he knows — and he knows that she knows — the reason they kept dancing around the possibility of them, and it’s still gnawing at him annoyingly from the back of his head. he’s tried to ignore it all night but it’s there.

all night, looking across the lawn as she interacted with his family, he found himself wishing things were different.

she moves very slightly, nuzzling her face further into him and stretches an arm out. for a moment, his heart drops at the thought that she would wake up. because that means that this would all be over and all rationalisation would hit her as well once more.

he doesn’t know though that she’d been awake for the better part of the past 15 minutes, frozen in her spot next to him, refusing to let it end. you never know for sure that you’re made for somebody until you fit perfectly along the crevices of their body every single time.

sure, they’ve hugged and shared beds before, but never this way. it’s an eye-opening experience to spend the night with someone innocently and suddenly realise that soulmates may actually exist in one form or another. it’s just upsetting that sometimes they come in the form of a best friend you’ve known for half your life, making it all the more damaging to keep thinking of them as somebody more.

but staying in this position any longer might cause logan to explode. she lifts her head slightly when she felt him rubbing her arm gently, met by a soft smile and she knew that the events of the night before would only bode disaster than anything else.

“you can’t keep avoiding me all day,” a voice follows him down the hall of the second floor of his home, “we’re in the same house for an entire week.”

logan doesn’t respond, just keeps walking further down the hall and down the stairs as if he hadn’t heard her pleas for the last minute.

they didn’t speak of anything either when they got out of bed. only excused themselves to freshen up for breakfast with his family before avoiding one another’s eyes and darting to different parts of the room: her to the toilet and him back to his bedroom.

“hey, what is your problem!” she shrieks. her footsteps echo down the stairs, grabbing logan’s shoulder to turn him around to face her. “you can’t just kiss me and then not say anything! what the fuck, logan!”

he looks up at her, standing two steps above him, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. he can’t possibly be the only one who can clearly see the implications of what transpired, right? “i don’t know what to say to you.”

she throws your head back slightly, blinking at him as she tries raking her brain for a response. what– what the fuck does that even mean? “what?”

logan huffs, lips pursed. “i want you,” he lays it down for her, shocked at the way that it had come out. frustration laces his every word as he speaks, simply because it’s… it’s frustrating to be this close to the person you want but can’t have. “it is as simple and as complicated as that. you know that, come on!”

“it doesn’t have to be.” he tilts his head, shaking his head before he turns around and walks the stairs again. she throws her arms into the air in frustration as she chases him again. “mate!”

“i told you,” logan huffs, turning around at the bottom of the stairs, “i’m sorry that i kissed you. i don’t know what came over me — i did it without thinking. i’ve wanted to kiss you for years, so i’m sorry i couldn’t hold myself back.”

“why are you apologising? did you hit your head and forget that i kissed you back?” she meets him at the bottom step and puts her hands on her hips. she closes her eyes and sucks in a breath, letting it out shakily as she says his name softly.

he shakes his head. “don’t even do that. that’s not fair.”

“don’t do what?”

“don’t do that shakey breath and then say my name whenever you don’t get what you want! this is different — this is not something as superficial as you not getting ice cream when you ask for it!” logan rambles, rolling his eyes. “it’s not the same!”

“then how do you suppose we should deal with this then?” she leans back on the railing of the stairs and raises an eyebrow. “you started the whole mess, i believe you should have an answer.”

“nothing can change. in fact, nothing’s gonna change,” he sighs, suddenly hoping that he can take his words back when she melts in her position and her frown grows. “not for me and you. you already know this, please, don’t be like that.”

she glares up at him, mirroring the frustration he’d been feeling all morning. simply for the fact that she knows logan is right. there are many reasons they pushed their feelings back but being in f1 together is the most prominent one.

“i know.” her voice barely comes out in a whisper, clenching her jaw as she looks away. it shouldn’t have to be this complicated, right?

love shouldn’t be this complicated.

“i just wish it was easier than this,” she admits, dropping her head as tears rush into her eyes. “i thought because we k–“

“me too.” he takes several steps forward, wrapping his arms around her. “but this is our reality. you didn’t work this hard to get where you are just for you to be reduced to the person you’re dating. we’ve had this conversation before 2 years ago.”

she freezes. as far as she’s concerned, he was blackout drunk that night they had the conversation. “you remember that?”

he hums. “‘course, i do.” he rests his chin on her head and starts to rub circles on her back. “i’m sorry it has to be this complicated.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @clemswrld @inejismywife @love4lando

#logan sargeant x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

[atinystraynstay]

In The Woods Somewhere - Kim Mingyu

Synopsis: Going into the woods was not your idea of a vacation. However, Mingyu was determined to change your mind.

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem. reader

WARNING: MINORS DNI

Genre: established relationship, soft smut

Contains: nudity, grinding, begging, exhibitionism (even if you can call it that), unprotected sex (wrap it up, my friends!), pet names (use of daddy), creampie

Word Count: 3.5k

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"Do I need to make a right or left turn?" Mingyu muttered.

His eyes glanced back and forth between the road in front of him and the GPS. You couldn't help but giggle at how adorable looked, even if he looked like a mad man behind the wheel. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his tongue slightly poking out from his lips.

"Honey, would you leave that to me?" "Yes, passenger princess," he said teasingly.

Yet, he still reached over to pull your hand gently to his lips where he placed a lingering kiss on the back of your hand. Even when he was in a playful mood, he never wanted you to doubt it came from a place of endearment.

You squeezed his hand affectionately as your eyes analyzed the GPS mounted on the dashboard.

"Okay, you're going to make a left then follow the dirt road to the cabin." "Aye, aye captain!"

You couldn't help but giggle at his antics. One of the things you adored about Mingyu was his goofy personality. It made life fun, even when you felt like the world around you was crashing down.

That is why Mingyu instantly recommended a getaway, just for the two of you. He, of course, felt his own stressors at work. With deadlines and projects popping up, the time you have as a couple was very limited. If anything, the most you see each other is when you are going to bed. But even then, there is a chance one of you might be asleep before the other gets home.

Some of Mingyu's fondest childhood memories came from the outdoors. His father created fond memories of going out fishing, which Mingyu aspired to do with his future children. He also loved the moments his friends decided to rent out a cabin and spend a week together. That experience brought all of them closer.

And that was something he wanted to experience with you.

While you loved the effort Mingyu put into the relationship and looked out for your well-being, you were hesitant. Not because this was technically your first trip as a couple. You were excited for that part!

Unlike Mingyu, you never understood the allure of the woods. You were always drawn to city life where things were fast-paced. Being outdoors slowed down reality in ways you weren't sure how to cope with. You also weren't the biggest fans of all the bugs.

Mingyu was still determined to make this the best trip possible.

The two of you had been driving from the city nearly all afternoon. The sun has completely dipped behind the mountain but still painted the sky in dark hues of blue and purple. You could somewhat make out the landscape around you, but it made you more eager to be in the arms of your loving boyfriend as soon as possible.

"I think this is it!" Mingyu proudly announced.

You looked ahead to see the cabin Mingyu rented out for the next several days. It was made out of cherry-colored wood with the railing of the porch painted green. There was a set of stairs that led down to the dock which connected to the river. Mingyu would definitely be intrigued to go down in the morning.

"It looks so cozy. What a great pick, baby."

He smiled wider at your satisfaction. Everything Mingyu did was to satisfy you. You were his everything.

"Come on, we better get inside before it's completely dark. Who knows what lurks out there."

Your eyes widened before you began to scramble out of his car. Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle, but he also felt a bit guilty. This trip was about making memories with you. He didn't want to do anything to risk you not enjoying your time.

Once out of the car, the two of you headed towards the trunk of his vehicle. You were about to retrieve your purple duffle bag, but Mingyu beat you two it before you could even reach forward.

There was rustling beside you which caused you to jump. Mingyu smirked a bit when you moved closer to him. Any sign that you trusted him and needed him boosted his ego. He made sure to put the strap of his own duffle bag over his head so it hung at his side. His left hand held the strap of yours, so his free hand was free for you.

Instead, you wrapped both of your arms around his arm. He leaned down to plant a lingering kiss on your forehead before escorting you inside the cabin.

Luckily, the owner of the cabin texted Mingyu all the directions on how to enter. And by some miracle, he didn't break the smart keypad.

Your shoes found their temporary home by the front of the door. Slowly, you detached yourself from Mingyu to explore the cabin. The front of the cabin was like its own sunroom with a view of the river. You knew you'd appreciate it a bit more in the morning when you can see it clearly with your cup of coffee.

Mingyu had already migrated to setting your belongings in the bedroom. You began to follow, but also at a more leisurely pace. Your eyes bounced around the living room. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall with a couch and two recliners. Eve though you knew you and Mingyu would be cuddling either way and not need as many seating options.

The kitchen was an open floor concept with a generous amount of counter space and a kitchen island. You two had stopped for food on the way to the cabin, so you weren't particularly hungry. A trip to the grocery store was in order which excited.

One of your favorite things to do with Mingyu was to cook. Or mainly to watch him cook. It was one of the qualities of Mingyu you adored. You loved watching his tall stature over the stove. He was really in his element whenever he was in the kitchen. You couldn't help but also stare at the way his arms would flex when doing the simplest of techniques.

You were about to join your boyfriend in the bedroom when a pair of hands stopped you in your tracks. If it was in any other scenario, you might've jumped. However, you could always recognize the loving touch of your beloved.

"How did you know I was about to come find you?"

Your head tilted back so you could look up at Mingyu. He smiled wide when he was able to look into your eyes. Often, Mingyu compared your eyes to two lost gems. He had never seen a color quite like yours which made him want to stare into your eyes all day.

"Lucky guess, pretty girl," he chuckled. His lips pressed against your temple which caused you to flutter your eyes shut at the feeling. It was such a simple, sweet gesture but one that nevertheless got your heart racing. You leaned back into Mingyu's chest where he took the opportunity to wrap his arms fully around you.

"You know, there is one thing I forgot to mention." "Uh oh," you began. "Don't tell me you forgot something or broke something already. We haven't even been here for 5 minutes!"

He wanted to look at you as if he had been hurt. However, he knew his track record of causing chaos whenever he simply looked at something. And there is no way he could be mad at his girl knowing him so well.

"Surprisingly not yet. But there is a hot tub here, wanna go break that in?"

Kim Mingyu is the only person who could convince you to get in a bikini at the beginning of spring. When it was still chilly and where layering your clothing was recommended.

Loving Mingyu was something you thought only existed in films. It was refreshing to be embraced by someone who loves you unconditionally. Even on the busiest days, he came home to be the man you needed. You two balanced each other by both being silly and being there to support one another during the trials of life.

It made you want to leap into his arms while also being there to hold him when he needed you. He was your everything.

And, staring at the man before you, you knew you made the right decision in saying yes to his offer. You had slipped into the bathroom to get out of your clothes. Mingyu went out to set up the hot tub, so it was all warm and ready to welcome you.

He had already slipped into the hot tub. His clothes had become a pile on one of the chairs. His arms rested along the back of the hot tub. Underneath the moon, he glistened. The honey tone of his skin made you salivate, wanting to shower him with your attention and affectionate.

He was all yours.

"What are you waiting for, pretty girl?" He teased you. "Seem a little distracted tonight. Let me come help you."

You bit your lip, unable to stifle the giggle caused by his antics. You were standing on the desk with a white fluffy towel wrapped around your clothes. You had another towel for Mingyu, going to rest it by his clothes for later. You took a step closer so you were by the edge where the deck met the hot tub.

Mingyu had pushed himself off of the edge of the hot tub so he could make his way over to you. The water stopped by his waist, not giving away but also leaving little to the imagination as the water was still a bit clear. He smirked with confidence, knowing you were eyeing him.

His hand extended out to you, so he could help you in the hot tub.

Slowly, you untucked your towel and let it drop onto the wooden deck. You shivered from the chilly air hitting your exposed skin, but also from Mingyu's gaze on you. Your nipples hardened and goosebumps rose on your skin. Mingyu's eyes marveled at you. Underneath the moon, you glowed. He was starstruck. This was always how he looked at you, like it was the first time he got the privilege of seeing you naked. You just kept getting more beautiful every single time. He noticed the pink flush on your cheeks which made his heart race. How could someone be so sexy yet so adorable at the same time.

He helped ease you into the warm water, not wanting you to accidentally slip. He would catch you regardless. You sighed gently as the warm water hit your skin and instantly relaxed your muscles. You were having a hard time remembering when you felt this at peace. There was no impending deadlines, no late night cals with the office. You were just here in the moment with the man you loved the most.

"I love seeing you like this." "Naked?" You laughed. "I mean, yes, I love being the man that you feel comfortable around to be this vulnerable. But I love seeing you content."

Smiling up at Mingyu, you wrapped your arms around his torso. He pulled you fully in his arms as he reclaimed his position in the hot tub. It was like he was sitting on his royal throne with you, his queen, accompanying him.

Once straddled his lap, so your arms could fully wrap around his neck. Your fingers drove through the hair at the back of his head, causing Mingyu's eyes to flutter shut. His hands squeezed your hips appreciatively. His biggest weakness was feeling your touch all over his body. It could be as simple as holding his hand in public to intimate moments like this. Any time he felt you presence, he was reassured this was all real and not some cruel dream.

His thumbs circled your hips, causing you to melt into him. The slight shift in your body caused you to rub against his cock. His breathing hitched gently as he looked down at you, biting you lip. You didn't think much of it until you felt his cock pressing up against your boner, making your crave him even a completely different way.

"Really?" You teased. "Can you blame me?" He rolled his eyes.

You could feel his hands leaving your hips towards your ass. You smiled at the feeling, loving whenever his hands ran all over your body. His hands fully cupped your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

"I am simply just a man with everyone's dream girl. Who is also naked. It's really human nature, baby." "Seems like we should do something about that. Wouldn't want you to perish in agony."

He chuckled lightly before his lips began to fall all over his face. His lips first pressed against your forehead lingeringly. With his hands on your ass, he gently rocked your back and forth against him. You could feel the side of his cock brushing against your pussy lips, occasionally the tip of his cock hitting your clit. That would send jolts of pleasure and excitement running through your part.

Even though the actions were starting to become more sexual, his kisses remained innocent. His lips moved from your forehead to the side of your nose, then your cheeks. He couldn't fight off the smile that curled on his lips whenever he felt your cheeks rise from your own smile. His lips then moved to peck yours before trailing down your neck. That was when your own fingers gripped his hair, causing him to let a moan slip.

He pressed gently kisses against your neck until he felt your breathing hitch. Jackpot. That was when he began his full attack on your neck. He sucked a lovely bruise into the side of your neck. His teeth grazing against the spot which made your back arch and chest further press into his. God, he loved the feeling of your body against his.

It's been far too long since the two of you have been intimate like this.

He wanted to take his time with you, to cherish you. He wanted to make up for the weeks of late nights, missed moments shared together, and simple kisses before bed or work. Mingyu wouldn't necessarily say he was needy, but there was no doubt he needed you.

"Baby," you whispered out.

It was as if you were afraid if you spoke too loud, the moment would be lost. It was really just the two of you that seemed to exist.

There were other cabins around, but the best part you learning about being in the woods was the space between you and everyone else. You and Mingyu had the opportunity to just get lost together, with one another.

He let out a light hum before grudgingly moving away from your neck. He took a moment to marvel at his work. There certainly would be a hickey there come the morning. And the best part is that you wouldn't try to cover it. Mingyu was always proud whenever he got to show off his adoration to you, whether it be through something physical like a hickey or doing something to make you feel special.

"Yes, my love?" "Just fuck me already."

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise. You had never been so direct with him in the moment. He knew he sometimes gets too carried away in the foreplay, edging you for what felt like hours. To him, he would edge you for however long as possible if it meant getting you wet and ready for him. He was always afraid of harming you.

"Baby, are you sure? I won't tease this time, I promise. I don't want to hurt you."

Your sweet Mingyu. You smiled at him reassuringly before both of your hands reached forward to take a hold of your face. With him looking into your eyes, you saw all the love he has for you. Your thumbs caressed his cheeks affectionately, maintaining eye contact so he knew you were serious before getting too lost in the moment.

"I am positive that I want you to fuck me into oblivion right here, right now in this hot tub. We've gone weeks without sex," you pouted. "I just want to feel so close to my boyfriend. Is that too much to ask?"

Fuck, he was down bad for you.

"Not at all, darling, but are you sure you're wet enough?" "Mingyu, you are the most attractive guy I've ever seen and I'm lucky to call you mine. I'm always wet around you." "Okay, needy baby."

Without needing much other persuasion, he moved your body so your pussy hovered over his cock. With your assistance though, you aligned his cock with your pussy. You both let out a groan at the relieving feeling of being so close to one another. His hands momentarily left your ass to hold onto your hips. He squeezed them once before helping you ease down onto him.

The water helped ease the stretch of Mingyu. It was a delicious stretch, but nevertheless, one you haven't experienced in a while. Mingyu's cock filled you up in the best way, with a slight curve of his cock fully pressing against your g-spot when he was all the way inside.

"You okay, darling?" "Perfect, Gyu."

He smiled in satisfaction before pressing a kiss to your temple. His sweet girl. All his.

His hips moved downwards before he began to settle into a deep, slow pace. He groaned at the feeling of your wet pussy. It was amazing to him that he had no hard time distinguishing the warm water from your own juices. He just knew you that well. Your walls hugged him, welcoming back home.

Your head tilted back slightly which gave Mingyu access to planting more hickies along your neck. His hips began to snap harder as he wanted to die you everything you've craved the past three weeks. He let his tongue run along the old hickey before settling on the new ones.

Moans were falling out of your lips subconsciously. You just couldn't control yourself nor did you want to. You wanted Mingyu, and quite frankly anyone, to hear how good he makes you feel. Your one hand remained on the back of his head, fingernails grazing along his scalp. Your other hand moved to rest on his bicep. You got wetter at the feeling of his arms flexing.

"Yeah, baby? You feel that good that you turn into my little girl?" "Yes, daddy," you whimpered. "Missed you, missed your cock." "God, I've missed you so fucking much."

His hips picked up the pace, going faster and harder. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix which had you already seeing stars.

He pulled back from your neck to watch you. He loved the way your fingers clung onto him. Your cheeks were almost permanently flushed with your eyelashes resting against your cheeks from your eyes fluttered shut. You never looked more beautiful than in his moment.

"Only one for me," he grunted out. "Only one I want and need."

Your heart was swelling from the sweet nothings he spoke to you. Even in the most sexual moments, Mingyu never wanted you to forget his love for you.

His own fingernails were beginning to dig into your skin, as your body trembled. You were lost in a trance from his thrusts were all you could do was moan out his name and other incoherent words. You were so fucked out, so far gone. All thanks to Mingyu.

He let out a sharp breath when he felt your pussy squeeze his cock. Your walls began to pulsate around him which caused him to throb more.

"Is my sweet girl close? Hmm? Do you need to cum?" "Please," you gasped out as one particular thrust felt like he slammed into your cervix.

I guess you were going to be the first thing Mingyu breaks on this trip. Not that you were complaining.

"Cum for me. Cum like the good girl I know you are."

Not needing to be told twice, you felt like you were exploding with euphoria. You came fast and hard, almost embarrassingly. It's just been so long without getting to be this vulnerable, this intimate with your boyfriend. One of you was just bound to break first. Your back arched and toes curled, body pressing all the way into Mingyu's to the point you two could just become one.

He let out a loud groan as he came along with you. Hot spurts of his cum filled your walls, throbbing to make sure every last drop filled you. You sighed in content at the feeling before your hold on him went limp and you buried your face into his neck. The two of you didn't dare move as you too much enjoyed the closeness of him at the moment. And Mingyu liked the idea of you not wasting a singular drop.

His fingers moved from your hips to run up and down your back comfortingly. Aftercare was so important to Mingyu, maybe even more important than sex itself.

"See? The woods aren't so bad, are they?"

#kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu #svt #seventeen #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu fluff #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu seventeen #mingyu svt #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt smut #atinystraynstay #kpop #fanfic

[theonewiththefanfics]

Seal It With a Kiss (one-shot)

Synopsys: After a looting session goes wrong, Astarion and Reader have to face the music and confront their feelings. Whatever they might be.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit

Word count: 3234

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

The light was too bright. And the ground was too hard. And the pillow too tough and lumpy. And why did Y/N feel so hot when it was literally snowing? And, actually, when had it started snowing? From bright blue skies, might she add?

Slowly, haziness dissipated from her eyes, and the world around came into sharp, painful focus. The light was too bright because half of her surroundings were on literal fire. The ground was too hard because she was half on rubble that once was a palace roof, and the tough, lumpy pillow was a rock her head had smashed against, while the snow was ashes flowing down, covering everything, including her, in a grey layer of soot, the sky peeking in from the hole above.

Although her sight was clearing, a sharp ringing pierced her ears. Or was it shouting?

A shadow crossed the sky, and above her, she could see their resident vampiric elf’s mouth moving.

“ – were you thinking?!” Finally, her ears started to clear as well. “You absolute imbecile! Why would you do that?!”

Y/N just groaned in response, as her memories came back in quick flashes. Everyone was arguing about where they should look for another magical artefact, Astarion shooting down what Gale had proposed, Wyll trying to make a sensible plan while Lae’Zel interrupted Shadowheart at any given moment. A deep rumble from the depths of the abandoned palace they were in silenced them all, Karlach throwing them a worried expression. And then the whole building exploded.

On instinct, Y/N had pushed Astarion as far away as she could before the ceiling came crashing down on top of her. It was nothing short of a miracle, she had managed to survive. Bruised, battered, no doubt with broken bones, but alive nonetheless. Maybe she’d have to thank a goddess or two. That was if Astarion didn’t rip her to pieces beforehand with how furious he looked.

Slowly Y/N tried to lift herself onto her forearms, and for all his admonishments, Astarion was quick to crouch down and help her, putting his arms under her pits and letting her rest against his chest.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled, noticing a large bannister lying across her leg. “That’s not good.”

“Not good?!” Astarion practically shrieked, his hands tightening around her ribs. “How hard did you hit your fucking head? This is so beyond not good I can’t even think of a level!”

Y/N winced at his tone. “Can you stop shouting, please? Gods, my head is splitting.”

“Oh, is it now? It would be quite the fucking miracle if it wasn’t, seeing as a whole fucking palace just toppled on you!”

“Quit being so dramatic and help get that thing off me! Where’re the rest?”

“Frankly, I don’t fucking care right now!” Astarion gently laid Y/N back down and went to the large boulder.

His arms strained as he lifted the piece of the pillar, her eyes widening at the display of strength.

She sometimes forgot how strong Astarion actually was, how easily he could snap her neck with just a twist of his hands if he so wished while Y/N allowed him to drink from her. But he was always gentle instead, with how he held her nape, fingers soothingly pressing into her scalp and knuckles brushing against her collarbones once he was done in a sweet gesture of thanks.

As quickly as she could, Y/N scooted from under the rubble, Astarion dropping the boulder back unceremoniously, and he was back by her side in a second, an arm wrapping around her waist, so she could lean on him.

“We have to find the others,” Y/N hissed as she stood. Her whole body screamed in pain, but they had to get out of the now-ruined palace, lest another explosion happen.

“They can find their own way out,” Astarion grunted, as he led them towards the exit.

“Astarion!”

“No!” He snapped his head to look at Y/N, and his scarlet eyes held such a desperate gaze in them, that she pinched her lips shut. “I will knock you out if I have to. I am not letting you get hurt again.”

“Astarion, they’re our friends,” Y/N’s voice was gentle. “We have to help them if we can.”

For a moment, Astarion truly looked like he might just throw her over his shoulder and march out of the place. But then he sighed, hanging his head in defeat before looking at her with pain distorting his features. “Why do you always have to be so good?”

Something tugged at her heart. That expression on his face, as if it physically put him in agony to lead them around the ruined palace in search of their companions, as he flinched and tightened his hold on her whenever something crackled, ready to throw his own body atop hers, in case something happened. It wasn’t selfishness, not one bit. Something deeper lay beneath Astarion’s reluctance.

It took them a while to find their party, but luckily no one was injured, and Y/N was the worst one off.  Shadowheart was by her side in an instant, giving her a healing potion.

“Should keep you set until we get back to camp.” She patted her shoulder. “I’ll heal you fully once we’re out of immediate danger.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled at the cleric.

She was just about to ask Astarion whether he was alright, but the vampire had already detached himself and was glaring at the ground, arms crossed over his chest ten feet away from her.

Y/N couldn’t deny – it stung. He’d been so worried just a few moments ago, yet now he couldn’t even look at her?

Her feet worked on their own accord, moving in his direction, but the way he turned his back to her, told her all she needed to know – he didn’t want to talk.

Pain shot through her heart, and it was definitely not because of the explosion, but Y/N respected his privacy, so she didn’t approach him any further, even though they always, always, walked next to one another.

“We should head back,” she spoke up, eyes remaining on Astarion’s taut back. “Maybe get some rest as well. We still have tomorrow anyway to search this place.”

When Astarion left the palace without even waiting to see if anyone was following, Y/N could do nothing but sigh and depart as well.

The walk to where they’d set up their camp was uncharacteristically quiet, especially from the pale elf’s side. He’d usually fill their travels with mindless talk and sarcastic quips, but this time around, he hung towards the back of their group and was as mum as a grave. He didn’t even comment on whatever Gale was saying, which made Y/N all the more uneasy.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around why he’d become so distant all of a sudden. What’d happened at the palace was nothing unusual. They risked their lives on the daily, saving others and themselves, so why in the world was Astarion so pissed about this, she had no clue.

Karlach leaned to the side, watching as the vampire entered his tent, closing the laces immediately. “Fangs is quite in a bad mood. Anything we should know about, soldier?”

Y/N huffed. “Probably broke a nail or something. In any case – nothing important enough to be acting the way he is.”

“Maybe I should go and – “

She put a palm on Karlach’s shoulder, stopping her, and giving her friend a wry smile. “I’ll talk to him. Better he’s angry at me and only me, not someone else as well. Apparently, I’ve pissed him off as is.”

“You sure?” the tiefling asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N nodded. “I think we need to have a talk anyway.”

With a “good luck” from Karlach, she sighed and steeled herself against whatever the vampire would throw her way. She unlaced the ties and lifted the flap to the side. With crossed arms, she entered Astarion’s tent, only to be greeted by his back as he stubbornly kept looking at a book in his hands, not even acknowledging her.

“Are you seriously pouting right now?” Y/N asked after a minute of silence.

“I’m not pouting, I’m brooding. There’s a difference.”

“Well, does brooding involve giving the silent treatment, or can we talk?”

Astarion threw a withering gaze over his shoulder. “What is there you want to talk about? Unless it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N let out an exasperated huff. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I won’t apologise for saving your life.”

“By putting your own life in danger?!” Astarion spun around, throwing the tome he’d been holding onto his bedroll.

“Comes with the territory.” She shrugged. “You should know how it is.”

“Letting a whole building collapse on top of you is very different to knocking a blade out of the way!”

“Why are you so angry with me?” Y/N raised her voice, matching Astarion’s furious tone. “I saved your life!

“I didn’t ask for you to!”

She let out a disbelieving scoff. “Well, sucks to be you then! Because I was not just going to let you get crushed underneath all that rubble! Your life is just as important as everyone else’s!”

“Not to me! Not when it comes to you!”

Now that shut her up completely, her lips pinched in a thin line, eyes wide in shock. She and Astarion were friends, at least Y/N would've liked to think so. She most definitely had developed deeper feelings than that, but would only admit to it over her own dead body. The thought of Astarion’s rejection made her want to crumple into a small heap, but his reaction put thoughts in her head that maybe, just maybe, her feelings weren’t one-sided.

“What do you suppose I would do if you – if – if,” he stumbled on his words. “If I had to go on without you? If you were no longer with us… with me…”

“Astarion…”

“Do you understand how it felt to see you go down?” He sighed, hanging his head. “When I saw the roof caving in and then felt you push me away before you vanished beneath rubble and dust and ash… I’ve never been more terrified in all of my life, two hundred years of which were spent under the rule of an absolute sadist, where horrors awaited around every corner.”

His eyes bore nothing but pain and despair he’d felt in that moment. “I heard everyone else screaming - Shadowheart calling out, Wyll and Karlach making sure Gale and Lae’Zel were alright but nothing… not a single whisper from your voice. You tell me I’m pouting, but all I can see when I close my eyes is you… how you would look… dead. Your eyes closed forever, your blood spilling out of your body and I… I have to stand and watch as I am unable to save you.

“But I’m alright.” Y/N stepped up to him, taking one of his palms in hers, and squeezing it. “Astarion, I’m alive, and I’m fine.”

“But you almost weren’t!” he hissed, pulling her closer, bringing their clasped hands to rest against his chest. “And all I would have been left to do was wait for the dust to settle and dig out your broken body. You would have condemned me to eternity without you… I just almost lost the person I love... and that fear is something I never wish to experience again.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat at such an honest confession. “I umm I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Friendship was one thing, but love? That threw her completely off balance.

“Feel? Felt? What does it matter anymore? Clearly, it’s not like it’s reciprocated.” He scoffed, back the mask of bravado and not caring, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it.

“It matters to me.” Her brows furrowed. “It matters a great deal to me. Why do you think I did what I did, exactly? Because it’s fun? Because I enjoy blocks of buildings dropping down on me? Because it’s such an absolute delight to realise - if I don’t push you out of the way, you will be in direct line of fire, and I might lose you?”

Astarion’s mouth opened and closed. “I didn’t – I –“

“No!” Y/N pointed an accusatory finger at him. Now she was angry. “You don’t get to play the "I'm in love with you" card and be angry with me. Not if you dare tell me how I feel without asking first!”

“You...” He shook his head, a crease to his brow. “You never indicated you held anything more than… friendly affections towards me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yes, because I let everyone in this party use me as their personal snack each night. I’d say that should’ve been your first clue.”

“I’d say you’re a full-course meal, my darling, but I understand the sentiment.” And though back was his usual air of sarcasm, a deep vulnerability could be seen shining in his crimson eyes as he weaved a gentle hand to wrap around the small of her waist, brushing underneath her sleep tunic to rest against her skin.

Cold met warm, and Y/N gasped as a shiver ran down her spine. His slender fingers dug into her back as he pulled Y/N closer, their breaths mingling, and if they only moved just a couple of centimetres, lips would touch.

“I just – I cannot stand and watch you throw your life away for someone like me. The thought of your brightness being extinguished because of it… I couldn’t bear it.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side. “Someone like who exactly? Someone who I’ve grown to look at as my dearest confidant? Someone who I know will always tell me the truth and be there if I cannot handle it? Or someone who so deftly has stolen my heart, he cannot even comprehend it’s been his the whole time? Besides, even if it wasn’t reciprocated...” She played with the string of his shirt, “you can’t tell me to be more careful, to not save you when you do the exact same thing.”

“How can I not?” Astarion’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and for once, he seemed to want the moment to reflect what truly lay in his soul. “You make my heart beat on its own. If I had to give up walking in the sun for the rest of my life, I would. As long as it meant you were safe and happy. I’d even gladly go back to Cazador if you were on the line. Without a second to spare.”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that!"

“But it’s true.”

“Not if I can help it,” Y/N grumbled, tightening her hold on his shirt by his hips, pulling him closer like she had to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. “He’s not ever going to get near you. I’ll level the whole of Baldur’s Gate if I have to.”

“And I am being honest when I say, if I had to choose between you being unhurt or me being imprisoned, being used as I was, I would always put you first.”

Y/N was on the verge of tears. “You listen to me you pompous blood-sucking elf – you will do no such thing. Whatever comes, we both will get through it. And Cazador will have his head ripped from his shoulders, but not before I gouge his eyes out, and do every single vile thing he did to you back onto him. I will skin him alive and then throw him in a tomb with nothing but cockroaches. Let him drink his own blood and see how he likes it.” She shuddered, taking in a deep breath. “Your life is not worth less than mine. Don’t you ever dare think that way.”

A watery chuckle escaped Astarion, and his eyes brimmed with silvery tears. “Can I kiss you?” He didn’t dare lift his gaze, focusing on their intertwined fingers, resting against where his heart no doubt would have been rattling a crazy rhythm if it still beat.

“If you want to.” Y/N’s reply was as quiet as his question had been, but there was no teasing in her tone.

His eyes flashed for a second, but she didn’t get a full grasp on what it was she saw. Maybe surprise. Maybe gratitude? She couldn’t tell really, all she knew was that the emotion caused a pang to ring to her very core. She’d kill Cazador with her own bloody hands.

“I want it.” He nodded. “More than anything.”

“More than my blood? That first night you almost drained me dry,” Y/N’s words, though true, held no malice, only gentle teasing.

“And how do you know that first time I wasn’t trying to wake up the sleeping princess with a magical true love’s kiss? The feeding just ended up being a bonus.” He brushed her nose with his, and couldn’t help the way his own lips turned up as Y/N smiled.

“Well, this sleeping princess would’ve punched you in the nose, had you awoken her for such silly things. Besides, you did miss my lips.”

Astarion chuckled, relishing the way her body pressed against his. “But I am allowed to awaken you to drink from you?”

“Well...” She nudged his nose with hers now. “Seeing as you become absolutely unbearable when hungry, I think for my own peace and everyone else’s, that does count as a vital reason to rouse me."

Gentle hands cupped her cheeks. “Allow me to demonstrate then how vital a kiss can be to one’s survival.”

And then their lips met.

She’d never admit it out loud, for his ego would surely grow larger than it already was, but it did feel like a magical kiss of life. Her whole body sang as his fingers slid against the nape of her neck, pulling her closer, almost like Astarion was afraid she’d pull back, but she could never. Not when he slipped his tongue past her lips, and her knees almost crumbled.

Y/N had to tighten her hold on his waist to not completely lose it, and she could feel the smirk growing on the vampire’s face, as he realised just how incapacitated his kiss had made her. He nipped at the bottom of her lip and relished in the small whimper he got to devour.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, panting, but not going too far as Astarion rested his forehead against hers.

Y/N smiled. “True love’s kiss you say?”

“It feels like it,” he mumbled, allowing himself to indulge in the tender touch of her fingers skimming up and down his back. “Though I don’t know much about… love… I’d like to experience it with you. All of it. The good and the bad that might come with it.”

“I’ll be here,” Y/N promised. “As long as you want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

“And if I ask for forever?”

She let out an over-exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Forever’s quite a long time, don’t you think?”

“Not long enough,” Astarion replied, a smile tugging up his lips. “It’d never be long enough with you.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

He chuckled at that. “I’d say it’s more of a promise, if anything.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“Deal, my love.”

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: my tags are always open, so just drop a message if you want to be tagged :)

P.S. do not plagiarise my work or repost it on other platforms!!!

#astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #astarion fluff #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x y/n #astarion x you #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion ancunin x reader #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion my beloved #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin fluff #reader insert #neil newbon

[moodriingz]

Into Your Room | L. Hughes

Summary | Luke breaks up with the reader and they're both miserable

Pairing | Luke Hughes x reader, Jack Hughes x platonic! reader, Ethan Edwards x platonic! reader

Warning | Breakups ? and maybe three curse words ? that's about it!

Author's Note | This is my first post! I'm so excited because I love this song and all I could think about for a couple of days was this scenario. Please send requests and what you think!

Masterlist

You and Luke started dating while he was at the University of Michigan. Sure, you knew when He went to play for the Devils long-distance would be difficult because of your classes and his practices and games but you wanted to try. So it came as a shock when Luke broke up with you halfway through the summer after his NHL Debut.

“Y/N I really think we need to take a breather,” said Luke while you were both watching the sunset on the beach of the lake house. 

“What?” You asked. It felt like your world came crashing down out of nowhere. You guys had barely been together a year. But you were inseparable at school and during the summers. 

“Yeah, I just need to focus on hockey right now and you have your classes. I just don’t think it’s going to work out,” Luke rambled.

“But I want to make it work. I told you that before you left for New Jersey,” 

“I don’t want to be held back because of some relationship,” Luke said and you stayed quiet. Your heart was shattering and he was stomping all over it.

“Ok, I’ll get all of my stuff and go back home. No point in wasting any time I guess,” You said with blurry eyes.

You packed up your bag and got ready to go. You saw Jack on the way out and gave him a hug goodbye.

“I don’t know what He’s thinking. I’m sure He’ll come around. It'll all work out,” Jack said into your hair even though it felt like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.

“It’s fine Jack, just take care of him for me,” you said and left the house and got in your car without looking back at one of your favorite places in the world. 

I will run after your moving car

And I will follow you

You're my northern star

Luke was miserable for the rest of the summer. He didn’t want to admit it but he was lost without you. He wished he stopped your car as you left. He regretted everything he said. He was just scared you would find someone better than him at school now that he wasn't there.

Luke told himself that once the season started he wouldn’t have time to think about how much he missed you. Boy was he wrong.

He stalked your Instagram in his free time. He was sure he was almost always the first viewer of any story you posted and had to force himself to ignore your profile picture anytime it came up when he opened the app.

You looked like you hadn’t missed a beat once you got back to school. Always posting when you’d go out with friends or when you’d study at your favorite coffee shop.

You both had so many great memories there anytime you’d post your coffee order he could basically hear the espresso machines and the smell of coffee. He'd remember your laughter from when he had gotten foam on his top lip. Or the time you were so nervous for finals and wouldn’t look up from your computer until he got you a refill of your coffee. Your smile was so bright from such a small gesture he knew he had to do anything he could to see it.

Except he did the opposite. His last memory of you was full of tears as he watched your car pull away. He didn’t know what to do. Luke was a mess while you seemed fine. How could he ever convince you to take him back?

You don't know how much I need you

Yeah, I feel the weight

It's crushing me

You were a mess coming back to school. You missed Luke more than you thought you would. The two of you spent so much time together and when you couldn’t be with each other you would text every chance you’d get.

You missed his goofy smile and curly hair. Luke Hughes was everywhere. The memory of him was in the Library where you would have study dates, He was in your favorite bar where he couldn’t take his eyes off of you all night, He was in your classes where you would sit together and whisper random things back and forth. He was everywhere except where you needed him to be. With you.

Your friends always dragged you out even when all you wanted to do was stay in and watch your favorite TV show and wallow. They always made sure to take good photos so you could post “to make Luke know what he’s missing” they’d always say. 

They basically had a schedule set of when to study with you or get coffee. You didn’t mean to make them watch over you as much as you did, but you couldn’t help how much you needed Luke. 

Finally one night You convinced them that you were too busy with homework to hang out when really you were going to watch the New Jersey Devils season opener. Ethan Edwards saw right through your lies about studying because he knew you liked to finish most of your work at the beginning of the week.

He insisted on watching the game with you and you let him because he was the only one who remotely knew what you were feeling. You both watched pregame, and when the commentators showed Luke all you could notice were his eyebags and how tired he looked. Your heart shattered all over again.

You watched him get his first assist of the season and your heart clenched. If you were still together he would’ve called you after the game and told you all about it. Now you just felt like a spectator while he was all you could think about. Ethan turned to you and noticed how upset you were with tears threatening to spill over. He was tired of seeing his friends destroy themselves.

So, maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

No, I can't do without you

Jack couldn’t take Luke’s self-pity anymore. All he would do was look at his phone and play hockey. Jack could tell it was affecting Luke more than he was letting on. His eyes were almost always bloodshot and he looked like he was moving through the motions at practice. 

Luke was a shell of his former self and Jack knew he had to do something. He texted Ethan because he knew that besides Luke that’s who you would talk to the most. They both started plotting to get you back together. The Devils had a game against the Red Wings right before Thanksgiving and knew there had to be some way to get you there.

Ethan practically begged on his knees for you to come to the game. He told you he was gifted the tickets and would feel horrible to not go. Everyone else had already left for Thanksgiving, leaving you as his only option.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the game was against the Devils. You had the date marked in your planner as when you would have seen Luke if you were still together. You both looked forward to the game because it was the first time you would’ve seen him play in the NHL and then you would've gone to his parent’s lake house for Thanksgiving the next day. At least that's what was supposed to happen. 

You only agreed to Ethan because you felt bad no one else could go. Ethan promised no funny business, and you could leave the game the second the final buzzer went off. It felt safe and you could see Jack. You missed Luke, but you were also close with Jack. It was something Luke loved about you, how great you got along with his brothers. 

Luke had no idea about the plan Jack and Ethan were brewing. He was especially miserable because he knew if he didn’t mess up the best thing in his life several months ago, you would be at the game cheering him on. He was in hell beating himself over it. All he wanted was to see you in the Jersey he gave you right before his NHL debut. 

Ethan came and picked you up all giddy when he noticed you were wearing a Hughes 43 jersey.

“What? It’s the only Devils gear I have, and I’m sure as hell not going to cheer for them in a Red Wings jersey,” You said without taking a breath.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything.”

You two find your seats and you realize how close to the ice it is. You’re on the Devils side facing the bench a couple rows up from the ice. Luke is definitely going to see you because of your proximity.

“If you had told me how close we were going to be I definitely would’ve worn-” You said before getting cut off.

“Don’t even finish that sentence we’re rooting for my team tonight,” Ethan said talking over the music.

The Devils start coming out for warm up and it doesn’t take Luke more than two seconds to see you. You both lock eyes and don’t look away. He notices you’re in the jersey he gave you, and his heart flutters with hope. He just stands there looking at you until Nico pushes him to tell him has to get ready for the game. You, however, look like a deer in headlights and your heart stops. You hadn’t seen Luke since the summer. Tears start to gather in your eyes and you know you have to leave.

“Ethan I can’t do this. I can’t be here,” You say with tears starting to fall.

“Please you promised me plus he can’t even do anything he’s on the ice,” Ethan says trying to convince you knowing it won’t work.

You start to gather your things when Luke notices. He rushes across the ice and knocks on the glass to get your attention. You instantly regret looking his way, but his eyes look desperate and excited your heart flutters the tiniest bit. 

You read his mouth as he begs you to stay. You just look at him and Ethan debating what to do. You decide to stay and see what happens. Ethan's right he can’t do anything while he’s on the ice, right?

I'm throwing stones at your window

To get you to notice me

Don't make me stand outside, in the pouring rain

With a freshly ripped human heart from my rib cage

And a boom-box

How pathetic, babe

It was a hard loss for the Devils, but the end of the game meant you could finally leave. Ethan was right, Luke didn’t bother you for the rest of the game besides constantly looking at you when he wasn’t on the ice or there was a faceoff right in front of your seats.

As you and Ethan are getting ready to leave you get a text.

From moosey

please don’t leave

i really want to talk

You showed Ethan and he looked at you bewildered.

“You never changed his name?”

“I never had the heart,” You say looking back down at the texts. The three bubbles show up and disappear over and over again.

“I think you should go. What's the worst that could happen, right?” Ethan asks. 

“I don’t know he can rip my heart out all over again and tell me off for coming to his game,” You say, swaying on your toes to your heels.

“He won’t do that trust me,” You don’t even have the energy to ask Ethan as your anxiousness bubbles up to your throat.

To moosey

where can we meet?

From moosey

come down to the locker room i can tell security you and ethan are coming

To moosey

ok 

Luke has to stop himself from running to you when you get to the locker room. He wants to pick you up and spin you around like he used to do after his Michigan games. Instead, he walks up to you and says a simple hi.

“What did you want to talk about?” You whisper nervous about what he has to say.

“Us.” Your breath stops ready for him to tell you off for coming.

“I fucked up ending our relationship,” He says with his eyes turning red.

“Luke, why now? I was ready to fight for us but you dismissed me like I was nothing to you.” 

“Because I was scared,” He admits. “I was scared you’d find someone who’d be able to give you more attention than I could. And that’s what you deserve, but God I can’t be without you. You’re the opposite of nothing, you’re my everything and I’m so lost without you. The last couple of months have been absolute hell.”

“You should’ve talked to me. I would’ve told you there’s no one better for me than you. The last couple of months have wrecked me.” You tell him.

So, don't turn away

You must know how much I need you, need you

Yeah, I can feel your pain

I hate to think how bad I treated you

But I know a place

Where the darkness can't reach us

“Please forgive me. Please can we just forget this all happened?” Luke begs you.

You just nod and launch yourself into his arms for a kiss. He deepens it by holding you in by your hair. Your heart flutters and you never want this moment to end.

“Would it be too much to ask you to spend Thanksgiving with us? I just don’t want to spend any more time away from you. But I get it-,” Luke asks nervously before you cut him off.

“No I’d love to come, I miss everybody.”

“Did I miss it? Did our plan work?” Jack comes into the hallway shouting excitedly.

“What plan?” Luke asks Ethan and Jack.

“You didn’t,” You say.

“Oh but we did, who do you think gave me the tickets?” said Ethan mischievously.

“Well I guess your plan did work, good job boys,” you say with a blush on your cheeks.

Luke kisses your cheek and tells Jack you are spending Thanksgiving with the family and you won't be going anywhere anytime soon. You finally feel like you’re back where you belong. While Luke feels the relief of finally having his world back. 

No, I can't do without you, baby

Maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

You— And again

#luke hughes x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey #nj devils #new jersey devils #luke hughes #hughes brothers #nhl writing #nhl fluff #nhl x reader #luke hughes oneshot

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 29

Warnings: major angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of an ED. get your tissues out, brace yourself for some pain. I cried and so will you. I'm so sorry for this.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Steve shows up at your doorsteps and you take care of him, the way you always did.

Word count: 10.5k+

A/N: shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, I couldn't do this without you Roe, I would've given up, this was so hard for me to write. I need therapy now. Also thank you to my sweet angel bff @taintedcigs for being there for me while I was losing it, you're both real ones

To make this even sadder, listen to the 1, the last time, betty, the outro of all too well by Taylor Swift. Oh and Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers. Thank me later.

series masterlist

-

It’s still pouring, the rain is still rolling down your closed windows and the lightning continues to crash through the sky. You can’t fall asleep. You’ve been trying to since you came home, but you can’t. You thought a hot shower would help make you tired, but it didn’t. Now you’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling.

You are too giddy to fall asleep. Your heart is still racing. Your skin still feels on fire. You can’t even fight the smile off your face. You feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin, him. You regret not letting him come home with you. Your bed has never felt emptier. You turn to look at the telephone on your nightstand, contemplating giving him a call but you decide against it when you take a look at the clock, it’s 3am. He must be sleeping already. 

Your eyes fall on the picture that wiped the smile off your face when you walked into your room earlier. A sigh falls from your lips. You need to talk to him. You need to talk to Steve. 

This night has changed everything. 

Your feelings have changed. They have evolved into something even bigger. You have been aware of your feelings for Eddie for a while now, but you never let them out completely. You were too afraid, too scared to get rejected, too scared to lose him because you once again, couldn’t stop yourself from falling for your best friend. 

Your best friend who wants you just as much as you want him. 

Your stomach flutters and a smile tugs at your lips – your lips that are still tingling from the feeling of all the kisses. You touch them, closing your eyes as you picture him, the way he held you, the way he said your name, the way he couldn’t get enough of you, the way he was so proud to call himself yours. He’s been dreaming about this, he’s been dreaming about you for months.

You never thought that you could feel this way again. You never thought that you could smile again at the thought of someone else. You never thought that you would love again. 

Not after him. 

Steve had shattered your heart in a million pieces. He stripped you of your powers. He took everything away from you. He made you doubt yourself and everyone around you. You suffered for weeks and months, not knowing how to keep going, not knowing how to get out of bed every morning. You stopped eating. You stopped reading. You lost your joy in the things you used to love doing. You felt so lost and hopeless but you forced yourself to keep going. It felt like learning how to walk again. 

But you weren’t alone, you had the people who cared for you. 

But most importantly, you had him. Eddie was there. Eddie was there for you, every step of the way. He never left, not even on your worst days. He was there, he was always there and he stayed. 

Your heart skips a beat and your chest fills with warmth when you think of all the times he cheered you up and gave you a shoulder to cry on. When he took care of you despite you not asking him to. He stopped by the coffee shop every morning to get you a coffee and some breakfast, sometimes he came late to school because of it but he didn’t care. He’d take you out to the diner, knowing that you haven’t been eating, he brought you your favorite snacks for movie nights. He knew you were struggling to eat and he did everything to help you without pressuring you to talk about something that he knew would make you uncomfortable. 

He gave you the reassurance that you needed.

He took care of you in ways no one else ever did. 

And he never asked for anything back either.

He just did it because he wanted to, because he cares about you, because you mean something to him, because you always meant something to him, because you were always something more than a friend to him and he always wanted what’s best for you. All while watching you pine after a guy who broke your heart. He even gave you hope that maybe, you and Steve could find your way back to each other someday – all just because he wanted you to be happy. 

You don’t know what comes over you, but tears well up in your eyes. 

Eddie always just wanted you to be happy. 

You sit up, no longer wanting to wait for the next day to come, you need to see him now. 

You throw the cover off your body, your bare feet hit the soft carpet. Your hair is still a little wet from the shower you took but you couldn’t care less. You turn on the light on your nightstand before you rush over to your closet and pick out a sweater, not bothering to change into jeans or a skirt, you leave your plaid pajama pants on and throw the black sweater over your head. 

Your heart is pounding in excitement when you think about how he kissed you before you left, how he didn’t want to leave, how he wanted more and more. You can’t wait to do it again. You can’t wait to pull him into a kiss, to hug him, to tell him what you should’ve told him a long time ago. 

You take a look in the mirror, smoothing out your hair a little, you put perfume on your skin before you turn around and leave your room, slowly creeping down the stairs, not wanting to wake your mom. You leave the light off as you slip into your Vans, you grab your car keys and you open the door, about to step into night but the smile that was lingering on your face fades away so quickly when you find Steve on your doorsteps. 

Steve who was just about to ring the doorbell. 

Steve who is soaked from the rain, despite driving here. You can see his BMW in your driveway. How long has he been standing out in the rain? 

It takes you a moment to realize the state he is in. 

His face is not only soaked from the rain, it’s also soaked with tears. His eyes are red and glassy. His bottom lip is trembling. His body is shaking and you don’t know whether it’s from the tears or the cold rain. He is barely standing and as you take a step closer, you can smell the whiskey in his breath. 

Your heart drops to your stomach when you realize that he drove here drunk. 

“Steve?” You whisper as though in disbelief. 

What is he doing here at 3am? Why is he crying? 

Drops of water roll down his face, his hazel eyes are filled with pain as tears continue to fall from them. 

He says your name with a pained voice, shakily and sadly. 

“I-I needed to see you.”

Your heart breaks at the trembling in his voice. 

You furrow your brows, looking him up and down in concern. 

What happened to him?

“Dolly, I’m so– I’m so sorry,” he slurs as a sob falls from his lips. He loses his balance and stumbles forward, almost crashing to the ground, but you catch him, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him up as best as you can. He instantly latches onto you, pulling you against him and holding you tightly. 

You blink in confusion, your heart starts pounding faster. 

He is crying, he is still crying, holding you tighter than before as he buries his face in your neck. You let him. Despite the confusion that is rushing through you, you let him hold you like this for a moment, only letting go to close the front door and taking the keys from his hands, before you wrap your arms around him again. The rain is soaking through your clothes, his tears are falling onto you, he is holding you so tightly, like he’s afraid to let you go. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you rub his back, not knowing what else to do. 

Did he get into a fight with his dad again? 

“I got you, Steve.”

Your words seem to make it even worse though, his body starts shaking even more as soft sobs fall from his lips. He grabs the material of your sweater so tightly, mumbling incoherent words into your neck. 

You feel so helpless, not knowing what to do or what to say, so you just hold him. 

This happened before, him showing up at your house in the middle of the night, drunk out of his mind with tears streaming down his face, he collapsed into your arms the moment you opened the door, rambling and slurring out words. You later on found out that he had gotten into a fight with his dad about his grades and his future. 

But that wasn’t all, you just don’t know the rest of the story, Steve never told you about the things his dad had said to him – how you would leave if he didn’t get his shit together, how you would go off to college by yourself and learn how to live without him, how he would stay back in Hawkins while you would live your life somewhere else without him. 

He is sobbing quietly, keeping his face buried in your neck, melting further into your arms. 

“Steve,” you whisper as you rub your hand up and down his spine. You longingly look at the keys you’re still holding, a soft sigh falling from your lips. You won’t see him tonight. “Come on.” 

“N-No,” he mumbles, thinking you want him to leave. 

“Let’s go upstairs, Steve.” 

You let go of him and grab his arms softly, trying to move back. 

He sniffles as he loosens his grip on you, leaning back, he looks at you through his glassy eyes. He takes in the sight of your face, taking a moment to look at you. 

You don’t know what’s going on in his troubled mind but his eyes tell you that he is suffering, and looking at you, makes him cry even harder. Though this time, he presses his lips together, trying not to sob. 

Your own eyes fill with sadness the longer you look at him. You move your palm down his arm, taking his hand, you hold it tightly as you lead him towards the stairs. You drop both yours and his keys on the counter, taking another sad look at them before you turn to Steve, making sure that he doesn’t stumble again. He is taking slow but shaky steps, holding your hand tighter than before. 

You look up, hoping that you didn’t wake your mom. 

You step into your room and you close the door after he walks in, noticing that you forgot to turn off the light earlier. 

His sniffles quiet down and you think the worst is over, that he calmed down after letting his tears fall, the tears that he probably kept in for way too long. Steve rarely ever cries or breaks down, he hates it, he hates being vulnerable. So, he keeps it in and he lets all his emotions pile up until there’s no space left. 

A look around your room, a glance at a picture of you and him, and the closed window is enough to make him cry again. He lets go of you and hides his face behind his hands. 

You feel so lost and don’t know what to do. Not even the worst fight with his dad resulted in this. Your own eyes well up with tears, your heart breaks at the sound of his cries. He once again, collapses into your arms the moment you take a step towards him, this time you lose your balance and your knees buckle causing you both to fall. You drop to your knees as he does too, still holding onto you, tighter than before if that is even possible. He wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your chest this time. 

“Steve,” you whisper shakily, on the verge of breaking down yourself when he clings to you like he never did before. You know it must be bad. 

He feels your hand running down his back, cupping the back of his head, trying to calm him down as you do your best to comfort him. He breathes you in, something that makes his heart shatter even more. 

“I-I ruined everything,” he sobs into your chest. “I ruined you, I broke your heart, I broke you,” he slurs. “I-I was.. I found your note, I never read it. I never said I love you, I just, I didn’t say it back, I didn’t say I love you, I didn’t– I put it away, I didn’t read it until now.” 

Oh. 

Now you understand. 

You furrow your brows and your eyes blur with tears. 

It doesn’t break your heart to find out that he never read that note, it didn’t matter anyway, he dumped you the next day. You got your answer. But your heart hurts for the girl you once were. The girl who loved him so unconditionally. The girl who cried herself to sleep after each fight. The girl who just wanted him to love her back. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and tighten your hold on him. 

“It’s okay, Steve.”

He shakes his head and he pulls back a little, looking at you with his sad eyes. 

You nod before he can protest. You let go of him to cup his cheeks, trying to wipe the tears, but they keep falling and falling. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying to convince him but his hazel eyes look back at you so brokenly. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, reaching his hands up to grab your wrists. “I’m so sorry for everything I did to you, dolly.”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, not letting you. 

“Please forgive me,” he cries. 

“Steve..” You frown, trying to catch the tears that keep escaping his eyes. You forgave him already. You forgave him because you never wanted to lose him. The past cannot be erased, not even if you were pained or happy, so the only thing is to look forward, and you don’t want to lose him in the future. He needs to understand that but no matter what you say now, he won’t listen. 

“Dolly, you don’t understand.” As he says these words to you, he looks at you with pleading eyes. 

You shake your head, a pained expression taking over your face. 

He opens his mouth to speak when a knock on your door interrupts him. You tear your eyes away from him, looking at your door, startled. 

Your mom’s voice sounds through the hallway as she knocks on your door again, “is everything okay?” 

“Y-Yeah, hold on!” You call out to her before you turn back to him. Moving your hands down to his arms. “Come on, let’s get you up.” 

He doesn’t protest, instead he takes your hands and stands up with you.

You lead him towards your bed and push him down, placing your hands on his shoulders, you look into his eyes, “I should go talk to my mom, she’s probably worried about the noises.”

He sniffles, nodding at you. 

Before you can move away, your door opens, the light in the hallways shining into your room. You’re met with your mom’s concerned eyes, she looks at you first before her eyes find Steve’s figure sitting on your bed. Her eyes widen and she gasps as she takes in the sight of him. 

“Steve, honey, you don’t look good, are you okay?” 

That only seems to make him sadder. No sounds escape him but the tears fall even harder than before and the urge to break down yourself feels stronger than ever. 

Your mom looks just as helpless as you do, you may not talk to her about your feelings but she can read you like an open book, and right now, she can see how much you’re suffering too. 

“We’re okay, mom. I-I got this, you should go back to sleep.” 

She hesitates. Looking at you with worried eyes. 

You nod at her, pleading with your tear filled eyes. 

She sighs, face falling a little. You feel bad for shutting her out but she had enough to deal with herself in the past few years, she shouldn’t deal with your problems now too. 

She nods at you, taking another look at Steve before her eyes meet yours again, “let me know if you need anything.” 

“I will, mom.”

She closes the door, leaving you alone with him. 

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep and shaky breath, trying to fight the tears. 

He is still holding your hand and crying his eyes out. 

You take a look at him and suddenly feel like throwing up because of the overwhelming pressure in your chest. You can’t take this. 

He looks up at you, tears rolling down his red cheeks, he looks so heartbroken and you can’t stand to see him like this. It hurts so bad. It fills you with so much sadness but also with anger because none of this would have happened if he wouldn’t have changed his mind about you. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, you’re gonna get sick if you stay in these any longer.” 

You turn around, letting go of his hand, you walk to your closet and open the door, taking out the box that you’ve been meaning to give him back months ago. You take the lid off and rummage through it until you find what you’re looking for, one of his old shirts. The whole time, you’re biting back tears, not wanting to cry. It’s hard not to when you have to face him again. 

Why does he have to begin this over and over again? 

You’ve been here before. You’ve done this time and time. You forgave him already, you gave him a second chance, you were ready to move on. 

Why does he have to do this now? 

He is staring at you with a sullen look in his eyes, there is so much sadness, so much pain and heartbreak in the eyes you used to love so much. 

“Here,” you whisper, placing the shirt on your bed, beside him. “Take your shirt off, Steve.” 

He can barely see through his vision, his bottom lip is trembling, his hands are shaking, his whole body is shaking from both the coldness that is seeping through his shirt and the pain that he put himself in. 

He reaches for the hem of his shirt, clumsily. 

You sigh and step towards him, leaning down, you push his hands away gently, grabbing the wet material and pulling the shirt over his head. 

“Do you want to take a warm shower?” You ask, putting your hands on his cold arms. “You’re freezing, Steve.”

He shakes his head. 

“Okay,” you sigh and hand him the black shirt. “Here, put this one.” 

“Okay,” he whispers, watching you take his wet shirt and walking into the bathroom. His eyes follow you like the ones of a lost puppy. He no longer feels the tears running down his face, he’s been crying all night, his chest has been hurting badly from the moment he started reading old notes. The way you’re taking care of him after everything that he has done to you, makes him feel even worse.  

You walk back into the room a moment later. 

He is wiping his tears away after putting the shirt on. You can tell that he tries to hold himself together, not wanting to break into sobs again, but you know that he is struggling to with his emotions in overdrive and the alcohol in his system. 

“I’m gonna get you some water–”

“No, please don’t leave me.”

You had never heard him sound so heartbroken, so desperate and scared. 

You had never seen him look like this, so fragile and broken. 

“Please.”

He takes your hand in his. 

“I don’t… I don’t deserve you–”

You sigh, shaking your head as you sit down beside him. 

“Steve, stop! We’re friends, we’re over this okay? You need to stop doing this, we talked it all out. I forgave you–”

He shakes his head, catching you off guard when he moves towards you and cups your cheeks. 

“I wanted everything with you. I wanted you to be the one so bad. I know we were too young to think so far ahead but.. I wanted it all with you, I wanted to marry you and have kids with you but then I fucked it all up, I ruined everything. I-I don’t know what happened to me, I don’t know what’s wrong with me and why I break everything.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, tears you can no longer hold back fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks. You open your mouth but no words come out. You are too stunned to speak. 

You never knew how he truly felt about you and about your future together. You knew that he wanted to go to college with you but that was the only part about your shared future that was mentioned – aside from the promise he made to never stop loving you. 

Despite the state of shock that you’re in, you cannot help but cry for the girl that wanted it all with him. 

“I don’t deserve you, fuck. I don’t deserve you– and you don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve someone like me, you don’t deserve how I treated you, you don’t deserve how I made you feel, you don’t deserve the pain I made you go through, because you’re so good, and so perfect, and I destroyed that.. I destroyed you.” His voice is so shaky, his tears won’t stop falling, neither do yours. But he wipes them away softly. 

Your bottom lip trembles as you look at him in pain. 

“Steve..”

He searches for something in your eyes – anger, hatred, rage. But he can’t find any of it. After everything that he put you through, you still got love for him and it makes him hate himself even more.

He knew what he did to you, what he put you through. Yet, only tonight it really sank in, how much he truly hurt you. How much he hurt that one person that he would give everything for – his heart, his soul, everything. 

“I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” His voice breaks and he closes his eyes as he lets his head hang low. Only a second passes, before you pull him into your arms again. 

“It’s okay, Steve,” you whisper. 

It’s not okay. How could it ever be okay? 

He left a deep scar, one that you will carry for the rest of your life and there is nothing he can do to fix it. 

He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in, closer and closer until you’re flush against him, in search of your warmth, he buries his face in your neck. He breathes you in and holds you tightly, like it’s the last time. Enjoying the feeling of your hand running up and down his spine as your other hand cups the back of his head. His lips touch your skin, he is unaware of the marks on your neck. He is unaware of who’s hands, who’s lips have touched your body tonight. 

“I’m still your dolly, Steve,” you whisper into his shoulder. 

Yes, you are still his best friend. 

Still his dolly. 

But never his girl again. 

You stare into nothing as you hold him, breathing slowly. Your lips are pressed against his shoulder, you tighten your arms around him even when his cries quiet down and his breathing slows down, you still hold him, not ready to let go just yet. 

The room becomes silent, so silent that you suddenly miss the sound of his voice. 

“Steve?” You whisper. 

His head is laying on your shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. You know that he had fallen asleep but you still whisper his name again. When you get no response, you move back slowly, careful not to wake him. You push him down softly, adjusting the pillow beneath him. 

Your eyes soften as you take in the sight of him. You scoot closer to him, bringing your hands up to his face, you wipe the fallen tears and caress his cheek. Running your fingers through his hair and pushing away the fallen strands. 

You blink, feeling the hot tears burning in your eyes. 

The joy in your heart faded the moment he crashed into your arms. Right now, it’s just hurting. 

You know why he came here tonight. 

Not for comfort. Not for a second chance. Not for forgiveness. No. He came to end things, once and for all. 

With a heavy heart, you tear your eyes away from him and push yourself up. You lean down to take his Nike’s off, you lift his legs up on the bed and grab the covers, pulling them up to his chest. You notice the wristband, the one you gave him two nights ago, he is wearing it. 

You can’t remember the last time he was here in your room, let alone in your bed. It’s odd, almost strange to see him here. 

You look out your window, noticing that the rain has stopped falling. You hear the tires of a car screeching through the night. Jimmy Davidson must be back from college, you think. The jock is the only in town who drives like a maniac – well, besides Billy Hargrove and Eddie. 

You take one last look at him before you turn around and leave your room, wanting to grab some water and advil for him. You close the door carefully and make your way downstairs. 

You notice that the lights are on in the kitchen. The smell of hot chocolate lingers in the air. Your mom is still awake. You find her sitting at the table by the window, with a magazine in front of her. A blanket around her shoulder and glasses perched on her nose.

You feel bad for waking her up, knowing that she works the morning shift this week. But just her presence alone gives you the comfort that you so desperately need, right now. 

She looks up when she feels your presence. She takes her reading glasses off and places them on the table, pushing the blanket off as she stands up, she wastes no second to make her way towards you, the same concerned look as before resting in her features. 

“Is Steve okay?” 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and blinking the tears away. 

“Yeah. He’s sleeping now.”

She knows that you’re not telling her everything, you never are. 

Sighing, she raises her hand towards your face, cupping your cheek as she gives you a smile, a sad one. 

“Are you okay?” 

Tears that you have just blinked away, well up in your eyes again. This time you hesitate. This time you can’t tell her that you feel okay or even good. You can’t hold your feelings back, not tonight. 

“You can talk to me. You never do and you always hold yourself back with me. I am your mother and I will listen to you, I’m here for you. So please, talk to me, sweetheart.” 

You look into her kind eyes and you suddenly feel like breaking down. You have been holding back for so long, hiding your true feelings, not letting them shine through out of fear that this would happen. 

But everything is crumbling now, all the last pieces that were holding you and Steve together had fallen apart the moment you had broken the barrier and kissed him. 

You don’t know where to start, there is so much to tell. 

So, you start with something you’ve been dying to get off your chest. 

“I love Eddie, mom.”

It feels like a relief to finally say it out loud, the words that you kept away for so long are now out in the open and.. it feels right. 

You watch for surprise to flash in her eyes but there is none. In fact, she doesn’t give you much of a reaction at all. A knowing look crosses her face, that’s all. 

“Is that why Steve was crying?”

You shake your head. 

“No. He doesn’t know,” you mumble, looking down. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“Then what happened to him?” 

You can hear the worry in her voice. You wonder if it will still be there when you tell her what he did to you. You never told her why he left. You never told her how much he hurt you. You never wanted her to think badly of him, not even after he broke your heart so carelessly. 

It feels like the world is weighing on your shoulders and the urge to throw it off feels so strong. You’ve been carrying it around for too long. 

“He came to apologize, to ask for forgiveness.” 

“Forgiveness?” She asks. “Did you two get into a fight?” 

“No, mom.” 

She tilts her head, giving you a questioning look. 

“Can we sit down?” You nudge your chin towards the table. “It’s a lot to talk about.”

She nods, a smile tugging at her lips. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and she leads you to the table. 

You sit down by the window and watch her move to the other side. She doesn’t take a seat though, instead she grabs the blanket and walks back to you, wrapping it around your shoulders and stepping away for a moment. 

Your eyes follow her in curiosity. 

She grabs your favorite mug from the cupboard and places it on the counter. 

You prop your chin on your palm and watch how she makes you a hot chocolate, the way you always loved it, with mini marshmallows on top. 

As you watch her move around in the kitchen, you realize how much you have missed this, how much you have missed your mom. This reminds you of older days, simpler days. Days where you had woken up from nightmares and sneaked into your parents room to wake your mom. She always knew how to comfort you. Instead of taking you back to bed and reading you a story, she always took you downstairs, made you hot chocolate and let you talk about whatever had troubled your young mind. 

And now you’re so much older and you don’t talk anymore. But you need to, you need to talk about it all so badly. So, you do. 

You tell her everything – from the sweetest note, to your overthinking, to all the fights she never knew about, to Nancy, to Tina’s Halloween party, to Eddie… You tell her absolutely everything. 

Tears fall as you talk about it all with a heavy heart. Relieving all the painful moments of your life and feeling the guilt of watching her eyes flash with sadness when she finally finds out the truth.

How you cried yourself to sleep. How you stopped eating and pretended to be okay in front of everyone. How heartbroken you were after he left. How unloved you felt for so long. How you have lost yourself after losing him before Eddie stepped into your life. How much Steve changed because of her. How he came back to you. How much he cared about you after all. How much he loved you after all. 

And as you finally talk, you can feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, falling off your shoulders but not completely. Not yet. But you let it all out, just like you tried with Robin but this feels different, your mom doesn’t try to lecture you, she doesn’t tell you what to do, what’s right and what’s wrong – she just listens because she knows that this is what you need. 

To talk, to cry, to feel. 

And when your tears stop falling and you calm down, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. 

“You are such a brave girl. I know you had your friends with you, and Eddie especially. But you didn’t have to be alone in this. I was here. I have always been here, my sweet girl. You were never alone, you were never unloved.”

You close your eyes, ignoring the trembling in your lips and the shakiness in your hands as you hug her tightly, laying your chin on her shoulder. She rubs your back and squeezes you. 

In her arms you feel safe and comforted, you don’t need to hide, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or scared. You’re just safe and at home. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, mom,” you whisper when you realize how lost you’d truly be if you didn’t have her. “I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I’ll always be here, sweetheart.” 

You sniffle, falling silent again. 

“You know.. I always knew by the way.”

“Huh?”

“That you loved Eddie.”

Shocked at her words, you pull away from the hug and stare at her with wide eyes. 

“I know how to see your emotions through your eyes, my love. I am not your mother for nothing,” she laughs while wiping away your fallen tears, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

You roll your eyes with a soft smile on your face. 

“And I also knew about Eddie’s feelings. That boy would blush every time he came to pick you up and you would come down with a new dress or skirt. I don’t know how you didn’t see his ears getting all red.” 

Your eyes grow bigger, softening after her words as you’re beaming at her.

“You think he loves me, mom?”

She giggles, staring at you as though you’ve gone crazy. 

“Someone would have to be blind and deaf to not notice that.” 

You blush at her words, though you can’t hide the excitement that crosses your face when you think about him, when you think about seeing him later. You look at each other, as though she can read your mind, you both start giggling. 

She looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand. 

“You know that I’m proud of you, right?” She smiles. “You’re so strong. You have always been a fighter.”

“No. Not always,” you shake your head. “I didn’t always fight for what I wanted.” 

“But now you do, right?” 

You nod.

“Yeah, now I do.”

Your mom looks towards the stairs. You know what’s on her mind. You saw the disappointment, the anger and the sadness in her eyes when you told her the truth about Steve. 

You know that she isn’t angry at him – she would have been had you told her the truth from the start. But a year has passed and things have changed. Steve has changed. You have changed. And despite what you have gone through, you still love him.

And that is another reason for your tears. Steve has always been a part of your life and she knows that you are afraid to lose him again. You might lose your best friend. 

“And do you still love Steve?” 

“I do..” You whisper. “That’s why it’s all so.. complicated.” 

“Is it?” She asks, giving you a small smile. “Or do you make it complicated?”

You tilt your head, raising your brows at her question. 

“You can love them both and they will both be special to you, no matter what. But you can be in love with only one person.” 

You let her words sink in, but your heart only hurts more. 

You have been here so many times already. You have told yourself that you let him go, you have convinced yourself that you did but did you ever let him go? Did you ever allow yourself to move past it? No. Because letting go of him always filled you with so much fear. 

“I don’t want to lose him.” 

The pain in your eyes is very telling. The sadness gives away who you are talking about. 

“But the love you once had for him is somewhere else now, right?” 

You’re biting back tears. And after a few minutes of silence, you nod. 

“I love Eddie, mom. I really really love Eddie.” 

She smiles at your words, taking your hand, she looks into your eyes. 

“You know what you have to do then.. right?” 

You nod, getting sadder each passing second. 

“Yes,” you whisper. “I just– I don’t want to hurt him anymore.”

“You will hurt him more if you don’t talk to him. You need to give him closure. It’s the right thing to do, and it’s the only way the two of you can be happy.”

“I know,” you whisper, shakily. 

She gives you an encouraging smile, “you got this, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“I hope so..”

She holds your hand a little tighter, giving it a squeeze. 

“You should get some sleep. You can sleep in my bed if you don’t wanna go back there. I gotta start getting ready for work now.”

“Already?” You frown as you turn around to look at the clock. It’s 4:30 am already. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry for keeping you up. You really needed your sleep.”

She shakes her head at you, “no, it’s okay. I’m glad you finally talked to me.”

You smile at her, tilting your head to the side, “me too.”

“Take it easy, okay?” 

You nod. 

She gives your hand a pat before she gets up, ruffling your hair playfully as she moves past you, making you chuckle. 

“Hey mom?” 

She turns around before stepping out into the hallway, looking back at you. 

“Thank you.”

Her gaze softens, brows knitting together.

“Of course, sweetie,” the soft sound of your mom’s voice sounds through the kitchen. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

“Okay,” you nod. 

She gives you another smile before she turns around, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

With a sigh, you look down and reach for the now half empty mug, you pull your knees up to your chest, taking a sip of the hot chocolate as you look out the window. 

It’s still dark out, the world is still sleeping, and you enjoy the last moments of this.

You’re not ready for the morning to come. 

You’re still not ready. 

-

Steve’s head is pounding, the pain is excruciating. He can’t open his eyes, not yet. The sun that is shining into the room is too bright. A groan falls from his lips and he clutches the pillow beneath his head, squeezing his eyes shut after trying to open them. 

He hears the birds chirping outside, he must have left his window open last night. He smells the fresh air, it instantly calms the sickening feeling in his chest a little. He sinks into the pillows and breathes in. 

The sweet and floral scent is so pleasant, it smells like you. He takes another deep breath, he smells your perfume, your shampoo, your vanilla body wash. His heart flutters and he can’t help but melt into the warmth of the bed and the scents that linger. He feels safe and comforted. 

It takes him a moment to realize that his pillows shouldn’t smell like you or your perfume. His bed isn’t usually this comfortable either. 

Steve opens his eyes slowly, groaning in pain when the light shines directly into his face. Hiding behind his hands, he sits up. He rubs his eyes and runs his hand through his messy hair. Turning his back to the window, he squints his eyes as he opens them again, trying to get used to the light. 

His throat feels so dry that it hurts and his head is killing him. He can still taste the whiskey on his tongue, it makes him nauseous. 

Once his eyes are fully adjusted to the light, he takes a look around the room and his heart skips in his chest, his red rimmed eyes widen when he realizes where he is. 

His stomach drops when he finds Advil on your nightstand next to a glass of water. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans as he buries his face back in his hands. Dread fills him when he starts to remember the previous night. 

The note. The Whiskey that he stole from his dad’s office. The tears that streamed down his face when he carelessly drove to your house drunk. You. He remembers the way you held him, the way you cried too. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tugging at his hair. 

He chugs down the glass of water and after a moment of hesitation, he gets up from your bed and looks down at himself, noticing the new– well, old shirt. He puts on his Nike’s and walks into your bathroom to splash some cold water on his face but when he turns on the light and he takes a look into the mirror, he can’t help but feel sick. His eyes are red and puffy from all the crying, his skin looks pale and his hair has never looked worse than it does right now. 

He shakes his head at himself, hating his reflection more than anything, right now. 

With a sigh, he looks down, gripping the counter tightly, knowing that he has to face you now. 

He knows that there’s a small chance that you aren’t home, that you have left. But he knows that you wouldn’t do it while he is here, not even if you’re upset with him. 

After washing his face with cold water and using your mouth wash to get rid of that awful taste of whiskey, he walks back into your room, trying not to let the sadness take hold of him again but it’s hard not to fall into the pit of darkness again when he stands inside the room of the girl he loves, the girl he has made so many memories with, in here and anywhere else in this stupid small town. 

From good memories to bad ones. 

From innocent ones like picking flowers for you at the age of 12 to buying you a bouquet of flowers for your 16th birthday. 

From comforting hugs at school to cuddling in your bed at nights. 

From first kisses on your bedroom floor to more passionate kisses in his car after every stop at the streetlight. 

From making love in your bed to fighting in your room with tears streaming down your face. 

He sees the box on the ground, the one that you took out of your closet, last night. You kept his things, just like he kept yours. 

Did you struggle to get rid of them like he did? 

Did you keep them in hopes that you would find your way back together someday?

His hands are starting to get clammy, his heart starts pounding again. He takes another look around your room before he opens the door and steps out into the hallway. 

The faint sound of the music coming from the radio tells him that you are in the kitchen. He makes his way downstairs, ignoring the shakiness in his legs or his hands. The smell of coffee lingers in the air. 

He presses his lips together as he takes a deep breath before he steps into the kitchen. 

You’re leaning against the counter, your chin is propped on your hand, a book lying in front of you, you haven’t noticed him yet and Steve takes that as a chance to look at you. 

Your hand is wrapped around a mug that Eddie must have given you, you told him that he loves Garfield. He laughed about it when you did. 

It’s only 8 am. He knows you’re not working today, yet you’re already so put together. Make up on your already beautiful skin, hair done in waves, you’re wearing an outfit you certainly didn’t wear yesterday. God, you look so beautiful that it hurts. 

His heart longs for you, his hands itch to touch you – something that he could’ve done. 

In a different world, he would pull you into his arms and shower you with kisses, he would hold you, not wanting to let you go. He would make breakfast for you and then you would spend the day together. 

But you’re in this world. 

In a world where he can’t kiss you or hold you or spend the day with you. 

“Hey..”

You raise your head and your glassy eyes meet his. 

Another wave of guilt rushes through him. You cried. You cried because of him again. 

“Hi,” you whisper as you close your book and straighten your back, you look him up and down. 

Steve hates how concerned you look, how worried you are over him. 

You take a step forward, giving him a small smile. 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

He shrugs, trying to smile back at you. 

“I’ll make you a coffee, you should sit,” you nudge your head into the direction of the kitchen table. 

“Okay.”

He walks to the table and takes the seat that was once his. It’s been a long time since he sat here and watched you. 

You make the coffee first, pouring some into a Hawkins High mug. You add two sugars, still knowing how he likes his coffee. 

“When’s the last time you ate?” 

You place the mug in front of him, eying him with softness in your eyes, something that makes all of this even harder. 

He blinks, shrugging at your words. 

“Okay,” you sigh and pull back your hair, without thinking. “Bagels or Toast? I’ll make you some eggs if you want–”

Your voice becomes faint, like he’s under water, sinking further and further into the deep end. The marks on your neck are now visible to him, the hickeys that he left. Steve is not shocked or even surprised. He already knew when he came to you, last night. It was obvious, even through his drunken haze, he could see it in your eyes, the happiness that shined in them before you took in the sight of him. 

It still hurts. 

And it hurts even more to think about you with him, especially in that way. 

“Toast is just fine,” he mumbles. 

“Okay, Steve,” you whisper, this was always his go-to breakfast after a night out. Black coffee and toast. It’s plain but it’s the only thing he gets down. 

He keeps watching you. Eyes following your every moment. 

There is so much sadness inside of him but there is also more, there is acceptance. He knows why he came here last night. 

Bits and pieces start to return to him. He remembers what he confessed to you, how you held him, how you took care of him, how you comforted him. 

He truly never deserved you.

You place a plate in front of him, “you sure you want nothing else?” You point to the buttered toast. You added a few berries on the side. 

He gives you a smile, “you know I’ll probably get sick if I eat anything else,” he says, chuckling for the first time today. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “You always had a weak stomach.” 

“Only when I drink whiskey.” 

You nod, sitting down opposite of him. You take a sip of your coffee and lean back. You look down and reach for the magazine that your mom was reading earlier, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. 

Steve looks up at you and he just knows it’s the last time that he will have your coffee and your toast. 

It’s the last time he will get to sit here with you. 

So, for a moment, he pretends that everything is alright, that this is normal, that this is something you both do every day and for the rest of your lives, that he didn’t mess up, that everything is fine. 

He takes a few sips of the coffee and eats the toast, and when he’s done, he takes a deep breath and pushes the plate aside, not looking up from the coffee just yet. 

“I’m sorry.”

You close the magazine, sighing as you finally look up. 

“You said that already… many times, Steve.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. He only looks up at you, his eyes scan your face, his lips twitch. 

“You look happy, dolly.”

What?

You shake your head a little, furrowing your brows as you stare at him in confusion. 

“You have color in your skin again, you no longer.. are skin and bones,” he says, quietly. Looking down as his eyes fill with guilt, knowing that you stopped eating because of how heartbroken you were. “Your hair is longer, your nails are painted black– a color I didn’t like you putting on because I was a fucking asshole..”

“Steve–”

He shakes his head at you, not wanting you to interrupt him. 

“You wear stuff you always told me you wanted to buy, you started wearing makeup, the heavy kind you once tried and loved but thought it was too much,” he says with a smile on his face, a knowing one. 

You see the way his eyes fall to your neck and your heart jumps when you realize what he is looking at. Surprisingly, there is no shock in his eyes, jealousy or even anger, just sadness. He knows everything and it’s not the marks on your skin he needed to look at. 

“You are living again.. and god, I want to hate him for it but.. how can I when he saved you from the pain I put you through?” 

Your eyes burn with tears. 

“I’m done standing in your way–”

“Steve,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Y-You’re not standing in the way.”

“Yes, I am.” His voice is thick with tears and by the way he is blinking, you can tell that he is trying not to cry. 

He looks down at the necklace you are wearing, the locket he had put around your neck, months ago. 

He knows that there is no picture of him inside and as much as it hurts, it’s okay. 

He didn’t come here to fight for you. He didn’t come here for a second chance or to get you back. He came here to let you go. So you could find happiness, the way you always deserved it. 

“And I don’t want to anymore. I want you to be happy.”

Your bottom lip starts trembling again. 

“And I know that you will be with him,” he says as he tears his away from the marks on your neck and he looks into your glassy eyes. “He would never do what I did. He would never put you through all of this.” 

You sniffle, looking into your best friend’s eyes. There is so much pain and sadness lingering in them and you hate it, you hate it so much. 

“I never let you go, dolly,” he finally admits with a heavy sigh. “Not at Tina’s Halloween party, not when I came to see you the next day, not after we went to Jimmy’s party together. I never let you go.” 

Your brows knit together, eyes that stare back at him with pain, fill with more tears. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing and you look into the brown eyes you always loved so much. 

You never let him go either, that’s why it hurts so much. 

Knowing that this is the last time crushes your heart in a new way. You know that this could not only be the end of the relationship you always held onto. This could be the end of everything. 

This was always your worst fear. Losing him. 

You have lost him before but you always knew that he would come back. 

And he always knew it too. 

But this, this is different. 

And this hurts even more than it did the first time. 

You still love him, there is no doubt about that. Steve can see it in your eyes, it’s in the way you look at him, it’s in the way your lips tremble and your hands shake as fear crosses your face. You’re scared to lose him. 

How could he ever think anything else? How could he ever doubt your love for him when it’s so clearly written on your face? Even now. 

Steve can’t help but wonder; would it have worked out between you if there wasn’t someone else? 

If Nancy never stepped into his life. 

If Eddie never stepped into your life. 

Would you have stayed together? 

Would you have broken up either way? 

Would you have found your way back together in the future? 

Would he have been able to make it up to you? 

Would you get your happy ending then?

“I dropped some heavy stuff on you last night,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing red when he remembers all the things he had said to you. 

“Oh, you mean marriage and kids?” You ask as a smile tugs on your lips when you see him blushing. 

He scratches the back of his neck, scrunching his face up, “yeah..”

You laugh a little, leaning your elbow on the table, you cup your cheek, “well, I never thought that far ahead when we were still together. I mean, I never knew what I wanted for my future but I knew that I wanted you in it,” you say, watching the way he nods at you. “And maybe a cat or a dog.” 

He chuckles. 

“Or maybe a few cats and a dog.” 

A fond smile reaches his face as he stares at you, shaking his head at the thought of all the pets you’d bring home while he’d– his smile begins to fade, it will never happen. 

“Well, I’m sure that Eddie will love that.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of a future with him. Yeah, Eddie will love that. 

“You’ll be happy with him. He will make you happy,” he says confidently because he knows that he will. “And if not, well, then I’ll take you back to that treehouse and I’ll marry you again.”

A laugh falls from your lips as a tear finally rolls down your cheek. 

“The treehouse we got married in when we were ten?” 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “That one. You know I still got that paper ring,” he says with a serious face.

“I do too, I put it in a box,” you giggle. 

His eyes light up and he smiles at you, but he watches the tear roll down your cheek and then another. He stands up and he walks over to you, his heart skips a beat when you look up at him with your beautiful eyes. He cups your cheeks, wiping away the tears. 

“I don’t want you to cry over me anymore,” he whispers, holding your face for the last time. 

“Steve,” you whisper, shakily. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

You knew that this was coming. You knew that this had to happen. If he didn’t come to you last night, then you’d be the one coming to him to talk and put an end to this, once and for all. 

“I love you with all my heart and I ache for you, all the goddamn time but I don’t deserve you. You should have never forgiven me. You should have never treated me like a friend. You should have never given me the chance to be near you again… not after what I did.”

You grab his wrists, shaking your head at his words. Scared that he will leave you for good. Scared that he will leave your friendship behind and step out of your life forever. 

Steve hates to see the way your lips tremble, the way your eyes are nothing but tears, sadness and heartbreak, yet again. 

He can’t stand to see it any longer. 

“I let you go,” he whispers as he wipes your tears again. “Like you asked me to months ago.”

His heart is screaming at him not to, everything inside of him longs for him to stay, to fight for you, to drop to his knees and ask to try again. 

But this is the right thing to do. 

There is someone who can give you more than he can. 

Someone who didn’t hurt you. Someone who wouldn’t hurt you. Someone who would rather get hurt by you than do something to break your heart. 

“I choose you, sweetheart. This time, I choose you and your happiness.” 

A sad smile lingers on his face, he brushes your hair back and he looks down at the locket, one last time. 

He knows why you aren’t speaking, you’d break down if you would. 

He leans down, tilting your head up a little, he presses his lips against your forehead, kissing you one last time. 

His throat feels tight and his chest is hurting, he knows that he is on the verge of another breakdown, he is so very close to it. 

This is the hardest thing he will ever have to do. 

“Goodbye, Dolly.”

Your sniffles break his heart. You only hold his wrists tighter in response, holding onto them, your touch lingers on the wristband, one that he will never stop wearing. You let go after a few seconds. 

He feels your eyes on him, your big sad eyes. He can’t bear to take another look at you, knowing that he won’t be able to leave if he does, so he steps away from you, despite his heart telling him not to. 

He turns around and he walks away from you for the last time. He grabs his keys that you left on the counter, last night. 

With a heavy heart, he walks out of your house, biting back tears as he makes his way to his car. 

It’s over now. 

Something he held onto since he left you, is over. 

And now he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

He unlocks his car when the front door bursts open, startling him. He turns around with tears in his eyes that threaten to spill. Before he can even react, you suddenly crash into his arms, and wrap your arms around him, you hold onto him like you’re afraid that he might disappear if you let go. You hug him so tightly.

His eyes soften and his chest fills with warmth. 

He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, he holds you tight and buries his face in your neck. 

No matter what happened in the past. No matter what he did to you. No matter how much pain you have gone through, you still don’t want to live in a world where he isn’t in your life. 

After all, he will always be the boy who picked flowers for you, who surprised you with your favorite snacks, who comforted you whenever your parents fought, who slept in your bed when you were afraid of storms, who taught you how to slow dance, who wrote you notes when he was younger, who promised you to be your prince when your first crush rejected you. 

You hold onto him, pressing your cheek against his chest. 

You stay like that for a moment, for a long moment – one that could never be long enough. 

He breathes you in and closes his eyes, ignoring the fluttering in his chest. 

He knows that this should make him feel better, to know that you love him enough to forgive him, to want him to stay but if anything, it makes him feel worse because he is still losing you.

He knows he has to walk away, for now. 

“I love you, Stevie.” 

He smiles sadly. 

He knows it’s not the same as it was. It’s not the I love you’s from all your notes. He knows it’s not the same love he feels for you, not anymore.

But the love you always had for him. The love you had since you were kids. 

And for him that’s more than he could ever ask for. 

“I love you too, Dolly.”

You sniffle, he can feel you shaking against him. You’re trying not to cry. 

“Please don’t become a stranger again, Steve.”

His breath hitches in his throat, he presses his lips together, willing the tears to stop from falling. 

“Me?” He asks, pulling back to look down at you. He musters up a smile. “I might need some time but I will latch onto you as soon as I get over my whiny ass.” He jokes, despite the pain in his heart. 

You roll your eyes but laugh at his words. 

You take a deep breath and sigh. 

This is it. 

This is what was supposed to happen. 

It hurts but you also feel relieved to finally put an end to something that kept holding you back for so long. 

You know you won’t truly lose him. 

He will always be your Steve. 

And you will always be his Dolly.

But it won’t ever be the same. 

You will be his friend and he will be yours and that’s all you’ll ever be. 

You won’t be sad forever and neither will he. 

He will find love after you. 

He will find it like you did. 

It’s what he deserves. 

It’s what you both deserve. 

“We kinda got friendship bracelets now,” he smiles through his tears, pointing to the wristband as he holds his hand up. You reach out to touch it, tracing the words. 

‘love you to the moon and to saturn’

“Well, I got one, you have a necklace.” 

You smile, placing your hand on the locket, “yeah.” 

You turn it around, looking at the half moon that he got customized just for you. 

You tear your eyes away from him and look around, furrowing your brows when you realize something. 

“You know what, we should stop doing this.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, tilting his head. 

“Saying goodbye in my driveway.” 

He chuckles, though it’s a sad one. 

“This is the last one,” he whispers. “Of this kind, at least. Our future goodbyes won’t be so…”

“Sad?”

“Yeah.” He takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

He takes a step forward, he leans down and kisses your cheek, not paying attention to the feeling in his heart or the way his lips tingle when they touch your skin for the last time. He gives your hand a squeeze before he pulls away again. 

“I’ll see you around.” 

He can tell that you’re trying not to cry,  that you are forcing a smile onto your face. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Steve.”

You can tell that he wants to say more. He looks at you. His eyes trace every inch of your face, like he’s trying to memorize you. And then, he nods to himself, blinking and giving you one last smile before he turns away from you. 

You watch him leave. 

For the last time, you watch him walk away from you. 

You stand there and wait until he is gone, until you no longer see his car in the distance. 

And just like that, he is gone, again. 

And your tears are falling again. 

-

A/N: I know that no one cares about my feelings cause I did this. But I want you to know that I freaking suffered writing this chapter. It felt heartbreaking and sad and wrong. I really wanted Steve to be the one. And my choice has nothing to do with the fact that I'm an Eddie girl, I love Steve, as well. (I know some of you don't believe this but I've loved him since 2016 so shut up, please and thanks). I didn't know how to make him come back from all what he did -- the emotional cheating, the pain he put her through, the heartbreak, the betrayal. It was too much and this ending genuinely has nothing to do with Eddie being in this story.

But also, please remember. This is not the ending of the story. So before you send any hate to me, remember that there will be another chapter and an epilogue. Anything can happen in an epilogue, just saying.

Also, I'll be working on a new Steve series. Strictly Steve x reader, I promise

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @somethingvicked @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @munson-mjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things angst

[parkerslatte]

Overlooked | Part Four

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut at the beginning. 18+

Summary: Y/N and Eris’s wedding day is approaching fast and Y/N has some final preparations to make.

A/N: There will be a fifth and final part that I cannot wait to write!

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue

•••

The morning was peaceful and quiet, birds chirped happily outside the window. A light breeze shook the branches of the tree looming near the window. Everything was peaceful and content. Save for the moans and slapping skin that filled the grandest bedroom in the Autumn Palace.

Y/N clutched onto Eris tightly, shameless moans slipping past her lips. Her whole body was alight, everywhere Eris touched burned so beautifully. Their skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat that soaked into the sheets they were tangled in. Ever since the two had woken that morning, they had been lost in the pleasure they provided for one another. Not once did Y/N wish she were anywhere else. If she was told that she was banished from stepping out from the bounds of the large ornate bed, she wouldn’t complain. 

Eris kissed the corner of her mouth and trailed his lips down her neck. Y/N only arched her body into his. While one of his hands was planted on the bed next to her head, the other was inked with hers. An action that made Y/N turn into a puddle the moment he did it. Still, fingers were intertwined. 

From the way his thrusts seemed to be getting sloppy, Y/N could tell Eris was close. And so was she. For too long she had been on that edge, wanting nothing more than to tip over the edge. But she wanted to go over that edge with Eris. 

Digging her nails into Eris’s shoulder’s, Y/N threw her head back. “Eris…keep…keep doing that.”

The pleasure was almost too much. Y/N had never been with anyone before that made her feel the way Eris did. He always knew where to touch her and how to touch her. On the days where all she needed was comfort, he made sure that he was gentle with her and made her feel so loved. And on the days where all she wanted to be was fucked hard, Eris obliged. Even on the days where she wanted to take control, Eris let her and happily took whatever she gave him. 

“Y/N,” Eris panted, lips now hovering above hers. “I am close, my love.”

“Me too,” Y/N said breathlessly. She wanted nothing more than to come.

Eris crashed his lips to hers as his thrusts increased as he chased his release. With only a few more thrusts, Eris came, biting down on Y/N’s lip. As soon as she felt that first spurt within her, Y/N moaned loudly as she came, thrusting her own hips up. Eris’s thrusts slowed as he slowly came down from his high. Y/N opened her eyes and looked into Eris’s. The pleasure on his face still remained and she was sure that she shared a similar expression. 

They breath mixed together as the pleasure in their bodies gradually subsided. As Eris pulled out of her, Y/N moaned softly before sighing in contentment. Eris pulled Y/N into his side and brushed her hair away from her face. 

Y/N watched his movements with loving eyes. She wasn’t ever sure her heart was capable enough for one person. But here she was laying in the arms of her mate and soon to be husband. 

“What are you thinking about?” Eris questioned, his hold tightening on her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Just about how much I love you,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss to his chest. “And how beautiful you are.”

Y/N didn’t miss the way his cheeks tinted the lightest shade of red. No matter how many times Y/N tenderly told Eris how beautiful he was, he would always get flustered. She loved it. 

“I was thinking that we have a bath,” Eris asked. “As much as I loved our adventures in this bed this morning, I would like to clean the sweat from my body.”

“I agree,” Y/N said. “We have a wedding to finish planning.”

Eris groaned. “Why couldn’t we have a small-scale wedding again? If one more person comes up to me to ask what colour I want the tablecloths, I am going to set the whole hall on fire.”

“Because, my love, you are the one who insisted on having a grand wedding,” Y/N said.

Eris lifted himself from the bed, gently dragging Y/N with him. “It is only because it is what you wanted.”

“It was,” Y/N replied. “But I would be happy to marry you in a shack.”

Eris rolled his eyes and climbed out of the bed. “You should have said something. We would have been married weeks ago.”

Y/N stood up and placed her hands on Eris’s firm chest. “In all seriousness, Eris. Thank you. Having a beautiful wedding was all I ever wanted when I was a child and now you are making my dream come true.”

Eris tenderly cupped her cheeks. “Sweetheart, if it were possible, I would make all of your dreams come true.”

Y/N leaned into his touch. “You already have, my darling.”

A smile bloomed on Eris’s face and he leaned down to press his lips against Y/N’s. He could feel the bond between them fill with the love the two of them shared and it only made Eris feel lighter on his feet. Just that feeling alone could put him in a good mood for the rest of the day. 

“Let’s go and have that bath now,” Y/N said. “I don’t know about you, but my legs ache quite a lot.”

Eris laughed and linked their fingers together, pulling her along to their bathroom. 

***

Y/N lay in between Eris’s legs and her back rested against his chest as the two simply relaxed in the hot water. If she was being completely honest with herself, she was fighting the urge to go to sleep. The feeling of Eris’s fingers gently massaging the shampoo into her hair was the best feeling she was sure she would ever feel.

“I managed to control my fire,” Eris whispered into her ear. 

“I noticed,” Y/N answered, shuffling a little causing the water to splash. 

“That means you are beginning to control your own powers,” Eris stated. “I’m proud of you.”

Over the past few weeks, Y/N had managed to put a name to her powers, or even a description of what they can do. They amplify others. Originally, Y/N only thought that Eris magic only reacted to her because of the bond, but once they tested it out on Eris’s mother, fire roared to life with just a simple touch of her hand against his mother. 

Eris was sure that there was more to her power but Y/N didn’t want to focus on that at the moment. Of course she was happy to have powers, when her family never thought she did, Y/N had proved them all wrong. But her focus was on Eris and the wedding that was coming closer and closer, only a few days away. 

“When the wedding is over and our honeymoon, can we return to practicing with my powers,” Y/N asked. “You mentioned that there might be more to them.”

“We can do whatever you wish,” Eris said. “And it will get me out of those boring meetings I am forced to attend.”

Despite Y/N being High Lady of Autumn, there were still some officials that didn’t respect her title and treated her like filth on the bottom of their shoe. Eris had slolwy been flitering them out as he still needed to make sure he wouldn’t accidently cause an internal war within the Autumn Court. But Eris had asked that Y/N not attend the meetings until he had gotten rid of the officials that always opposed her and were disrespectful of her. 

Y/N reluctantly agreed but would always send Eris a whole page of notes of things she wanted to be brought up in the meeting. Eris always complied with that request. 

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, tilting her head to look at her mate. “I’m glad that I’m nothing more than an excuse to you.”

Eris chuckled and brushed his lips across her shoulder. “You are so much more than a reason, love. You are the entire reason this court is running as smoothly as it is. All of those ideas you write out for me to bring up at meetings make a large difference in the court.”

“You are also to thank for that,” Y/N responded.

“Oh please,” Eris said, “it’s definitely more you than me. You’ve been High Lady for a little two months and you have already changed this court for the better. There are children, females and males who look up to you.”

“They look up to you too,” Y/N argued. 

Eris shook his head. “They still see me as the spiteful, cruel, insufferable male I was when my father was alive. That’s probably what they will always see me as.”

Y/N frowned, turning around in the bathtub, causing the water to splash around them. “But you are the furthest thing from that.”

Eris avoided eye contact. “I’m being completely honest when I say this, Y/N, but it is not far from the truth. I was cruel and horrible for centuries. People never looked me in the eye in fear for what I would do.”

Y/N cupped his cheeks, his stubble rough against her palms. “Eris, listen to me when I say that you are the most incredible male I have ever met. You are not cruel. You are not spiteful. You are not insufferable. You are the furthest thing from those things. Sure, you put up that facade but you did that to protect your family, and that speaks volumes. You endured so much torture at the hands of your father just to keep the ones you love safe. My love, your heart is so large and it is honestly a shame not everyone gets to experience it.”

Eris closed his eyes and leaned into Y/N’s touch. “I only wish for you to see the amount of love in my heart. It is all reserved for you, every single drop of it.”

Y/N surged forward and pressed her lips against Eris’s. There was a sense of reassurance within the kiss and it was these types of kisses that made Y/N fall in love with Eris all over again. However, Y/N pulled away, a smile toying her lips. 

“You are perfect, Eris Vanserra,” Y/N muttered, lips ghosting over his. 

“As are you, my love,” Eris whispered before firmly pressing his lips against hers. 

The two stayed in the bath until the water was cold.

***

A small gasp left Y/N’s mouth as he stared at her dress in the mirror. It was everything she had ever imagined it would be. The golden fabric seemed to glow as she moved. The dress flattered her immensely, extenuating every part of her body which she loved. She could only imagine Eris’s reaction to it. It made her want to move the wedding a day forward. 

“Do you like it, High Lady?” the seamstress asked.

“Please, call me Y/N. There is no need for formalities,” Y/N said, offering the seamstress a smile. “Your work is incredible…”

“Aliana, High- Y/N,” Aliana replied. 

“Aliana, your work is truly remarkable,” Y/N said, admiring the gown in the mirror.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Aliana said.

“Where did you learn to make dresses like this?” Y/N asked. 

“My mother,” Aliana replied. “Though she was miles better than me. Her work shadows mine.”

“If they were anything better than this they must be something of legend,” Y/N exclaimed. “I would love to see them.”

Aliana’s gaze saddened. “They were all destroyed. By the previous High Lord. He- he was angry that my mother could not create a suit in time for him. He broke her hand and banished her from this court fifty years ago.”

Y/N frowned and gently took Aliana’s hand in hers. Aliana flinched but quickly relaxed. “I am so sorry, Aliana. Do you know where your mother is now?”

“She’s in the Winter Court. The High Lord has been kind to her there,” Aliana answered. 

“Have you seen her since she was banished?” Y/N asked. 

Aliana shook her head. “I haven’t. I can’t afford to leave the court and the previous High Lord always kept me busy. I have had some free time since his passing though.”

Y/N lost herself in thought for a moment. “Would you mind helping me out of this dress, Aliana?”

Aliana’s eyes widened. “Don’t you like it?”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “I don’t like it, I absolutely adore it. I just need to deal with some matters with the High Lord.”

Aliana nodded. “Of course.”

“And Aliana?” Y/N said as she began to help Y/N out of the dress.

“Yes?”

“Come to the wedding tomorrow,” Y/N said. “I don’t have a formal invitation to give you, but just mention at the door that I allowed you to be there. I will set a seat for you.”

“I couldn’t possibly attend!” Aliana said, her curls bounced wildly as she shook her head.

“You could, you are the one who made this dress after all,” Y/N said. “It would be a crime if you weren’t there.”

“I don’t know,” Aliana said, fiddling with her fingers. “It wouldn’t be right. I am simply a seamstress, I don’t belong in court. Especially a wedding as high class as yours.”

“Aliana, listen to me, I do not care about class or what you do for a living. This night is not only a celebration for Eris and I, it can be a celebration for everyone. It gives everyone a chance to see how the changes taking place in court are for the better,” Y/N explained. “I want you to be there. Not even as a seamstress who made my amazing dress, I wish you to be there as my friend.”

Aliana stilled for a moment before smiling shyly. “It would be an honour.”

Y/N smiled and squeezed her hand gently. “It will be an honour to have you there.”

Aliana helped Y/N out of her dress without a fuss, Y/N didn’t mention the fact that she had seen Aliana wipe away the few stray tears that fell down her cheeks. Once the dress was off and back upon the mannequin, Y/N bid Aliana goodbye, not before making her promise that she would attend the wedding. 

***

The moment she was home, Y/N found herself walking to Eris’s office. He would only be there or in their bedroom, he was not preparing any last minute wedding preparations until Y/N was by his side. 

“Eris,” Y/N said, a hint of urgency to her voice. 

“Yes, my love?” Eris said, looking up from the papers on his desk. 

“I need you to contact Kallias immediately,” Y/N stated. 

Eris’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay with me, but my seamstress, Aliana, told me that her mother was banished from the court fifty years ago,” Y/N explained. “She hasn’t had the chance to see her mother and I wish to bring them together again.”

“Why was she banished?” Eris questioned.

“She could not create a suit in time for your father,” Y/N said.

At the mention of his father, Eris gripped the pen in his hand a little tighter. Y/N hurried over to him and draped herself across the back of his chair, hugging him close. Eris immediately dropped the pen and caressed Y/N’s skin, leaning back into her touch. 

“She made her way to the Winter Court and I wish to lift her ban and invite her to the wedding,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss against Eris’s cheek. 

“I will write to Kallias at once,” Eris said. 

“Thank you, my love,” Y/N said. “I would do it but I am not sure if other High Lord’s will take me seriously yet.”

“Of course they do,” Eris said. “They probably take you more seriously than me.”

Y/N chuckled slightly before pulling away from Eris. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Eris replied, pushing his chair back.

Y/N felt the gentle caress of his hand against hers before she felt Eris tugging her until she was situated in his lap. Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck. 

“I get to call you my wife,” Eris whispered softly. “My mate and my wife, the love of my life, the most incredible female in the world, how am I ever going to introduce you to people?”

Y/N smiled. “You could always list all of them. And possibly add a few more.”

“Your head is going to be too big to walk through that door,” Eris teased. He looked at Y/N before his face suddenly became serious. “But thank you, Y/N. For giving me the love I never thought I deserved.”

Y/N gently pressed her lips against his and felt the way Eris melted into her body. “Thank you, Eris. For not only helping me get out of the Night Court, but for making me realise that I deserved more.”

Eris’s only response was to surge forward and press his lips against hers, harder than before. All of the love and emotion, Y/N felt it all and it was the most amazing feeling. 

As Eris’s lips left hers and began to pepper them down her neck, Y/N pulled away and Eris groaned. With a chuckle, Y/N climbed off his lap. “We can finish that later. Now I need you to write to Kallias and make sure Aliana’s mother gets her by tomorrow. I have some other things I need to attend to.”

“And what would those be?” Eris asked.

“I have some more invitations to give out.”

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #high lord eris

[little-star-library]

Cold Lips & Warm Fingertips

18+ only (MDNI please)

Pairing: Astarion Ancunin x fem!Reader

Summary: I don’t know how this little drabble came about, but maybe I’ve been listening to Hozier a little bit and got a spark of inspiration. This one is a little sad, but I keep thinking about having a moment with Astarion where he needs to be comforted during a difficult time.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, soft Astarion, fem reader, smut, light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, panic attack, disassociation, nudity, cockwarming, kissing, PinV penetration, tender moments

He was falling. He was falling into that cold, numbing and familiar abyss again, no matter how much he didn’t want to. He never wanted to be like this, not with you. You were so soft and so sweet to him and gave him a new and refreshing perspective on intimacy, it almost brought him to tears just thinking about it. But after so many years of being conditioned into a ‘loyal servant’ to lure his victims to their demise, it began to become an instinct to detach himself from the moment, to just let his mind wander away until it was over.

“Star, honey, are you with me?”

He could still feel your palms pressing into his chest as you straddled his hips. He could still feel your taut muscles beneath his hands in a tight grip to keep you steady while he rocked his pelvis upward to grind into you even deeper. He could feel your velvety walls squeezing around his swollen member while you bounced up and down in his lap. And it was such a sight to see you would gush and shake with pleasure as he teased you and praised you until your eyes rolled to the back of your head, it would always make his chest puff out with pride knowing that he made you feel that good. But then all movements ceased and he found that rather odd. Your hands were still in the same position and you were still connected with him in your passionate union, so why did you stop?

“Astarion? Sweetheart, can you hear me? Please talk to me.”

Your worried tone sent alarm bells ringing in his head and within an instant he was snapped back into reality. The atmosphere changed; the haze of his disassociation that clouded his mind morphed him back to him lying down in his tent and there was a warm glow within the space and within his body. He was so warm and yet so cold with the sweat and tears that clung to his skin. When did he start crying?

Astarion flinched at the sudden contact of someone’s hand moving to cup his face and swiping away his shed tears with a delicate touch. He made a quick motion to grab that hand and pull it away in disgust, but then he glanced up at the perpetrator that held him beneath their weight. His eyes locked with your anxious gaze and everything came crashing down all at once.

Shit.

A deep, rugged shivering sensation began to quake in his chest and a shuddering cry broke through and the sting of even more tears started to prick at his vision, which only made him squeeze his eyes tight in vain to will them away. But they poured and poured down his cheeks, and there was a ringing that echoed in his ears and he was trying so desperately to breathe. It felt like he was gasping for air. He really had no need to breathe, surely. So why was he trying so hard to hold in the choked sobs that were escaping behind gritted teeth?

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright.” Your soothing voice reached out to him and you made to move your hands to hold his face gently, stroking gingerly at his wet cheeks with caution. “You’re with me, you’re safe.”

The touch of your fingers and the sound of your hushed words crashed through the waves of dread and turmoil that grew deep in the pit of his stomach, anchoring him back to the present moment and yet those tears continued to stream down.

You were too sweet to him and you had him wrapped tightly around your finger with your kindness and affection. He most definitely fucked everything up now. How could he do this to you? His plan to seduce and sleep with you in exchange for your loyalty and protection had surely paid off, but then he started…feeling something more with you. It was an awful feeling. But then again, you had made him smile and laugh, made him feel like he was worthy. Worthy of happiness, worthy of himself, and maybe even worthy of your love. But you didn’t deserve someone like him, someone so tainted and broken by an eternity of lies and torture that would make any other person perish instantly. You deserved more than he could ever give you and you would most certainly leave him now.

“Astarion, can you look at me? Please?” Your fingers moved away from his face and instead turned towards his hair and softly stroked the disheveled curls away from his eyes, scratching lightly at his scalp in hopes of soothing him.

Those crimson orbs slowly revealed themselves as he peeked up and saw a little smile that graced your face when he willingly obeyed to your request. His own face felt wet and itchy as the remaining tears of his panic attack began to cool against his skin, but that didn���t matter right now. Without a second thought, his arms wrapped around your torso and yanked you down to his chest and gripped you tightly in fear that you might suddenly disappear if he let go. He needed to feel you, to feel your constant warmth in assurance that this was all real, that you were actually there.

The scent of sex and blood permeated the air around him, but underneath it all there was that scent that only he could describe as yours. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and inhaled shakily, taking in the notes of lavender and vanilla of your favorite lotion that steeped into your skin. It was nice, calming even, and the familiar smell kept him grounded from slipping away again.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling.” Astarion whispers, squeezing you impossibly closer to him as he tried to control his breathing. “I, I know I should’ve said something. I just couldn’t help it.”

Your heart ached to see him so dejected like this, when he was plagued by his inner turmoils and frustrations. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend the kind of pain and suffering that he endured in the past, but you knew what it was like to live with a traumatic burden. You knew the weight of fear and dread that came in tow alongside the overbearing presence of loneliness and that was true terror. You may have been scared to grow closer to Astarion in fear of rejection and being all alone again, but you knew that he was the same. So you wanted to do everything in your power to let him know that you were there for him, that you loved and cherished him for who he is, even if you had to take it slowly with him. All the effort was worth it in your opinion.

“That’s okay, Star, it’s not your fault.” You cooed in his ear and kissed lightly at the old scars on his neck as you continued to play with his hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. Just breathe with me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You felt him nod against your shoulder and you sat up slightly to meet his gaze again and you mimicked the action of breathing in and out deeply with a slow motion of your hand in guidance for him to follow. Although it really wasn’t necessary for him in this case, he found that the little exercise helped relieve him of his anxiety when it came to these experiences. He followed your lead and soon enough, the looming danger of his thoughts started to dissipate and his conscience became clearer little by little as he kept his eyes on you.

“That’s it, just keep breathing. You’re doing so well for me.” Your praise made him whimper and the stirring of his cock still nestled in your womb had his hips buck up on instinct. The sensation of him brushing against your cervix had you blanking out in pleasure for a brief second and you realized that maybe it would be better to move of off his lap. But just as you began to move your hips, Astarion halted your actions in an iron grip around your waist to keep his softening member from escaping the grip of your cunt.

“Please don’t go,” he whimpered softly as you rested your head over his undead heart. “Stay here with me, just like this, keeping me warm.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I promise.” You brought up one of his hands up to your mouth and kissed the tips of his fingers that were gradually growing colder even though he had only fed from you a short couple of hours ago. “But how about we get a little more comfortable, hmm? Would you like me to hold you?”

“Mhmm…”

Astarion took the initiative and turned to his side with you in tow, one hand holding the back of your head and the other grasping your hip as carefully as he could so as not to disturb the connection you shared between your bodies. Once you were settled a little bit further, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed his head into the crook of your neck and you scratched lightly at his silver curls on the nape of his neck, slowly massaging the area as you went before kissing the crown of his head. A content sigh could be heard from him as you basked in the now comfortable silence and he kissed you behind your ear in tranquil gratitude.

Time seemed to stand still while you lay there with your pale lover and you silently prayed to whatever gods were listening that this night would never end. Besides the downfall of tonight’s events that led to this moment, it was a comforting thought that Astarion was willing to be soft like this with you and knowing that he trusted you enough to open up himself to you made your heart melt. You knew that he could be rather difficult and a little rough around the edges, but deep beneath all of those complex layers all he wanted was someone who understood him, someone who could bring out the best in him.

“How’re you doing, Star? You need anything?”

Astarion let out a quiet hum and looked up at you from his resting spot and smiled softly once he met your eyes, fully enraptured by your loving gaze and his breath hitched by how gorgeous you looked in the candlelight.

“…You know what?” He glanced down at your mouth and licked his bottom lip at the thought of your tender kiss, which in turn made his cock twitch and he could feel you squirm in his arms. “I think my lips are starting to get cold.”

“Oh, is that so?” You quietly giggled at his subtle request, and ever more the charmer he was, you couldn’t deny him. “May I give you a kiss you then?”

His eyes lit up with a rare glimpse of joy and nodded, meeting you halfway to capture your lips in a benevolent kiss. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the cold shock of his lips melting against your own, swooning in the way he held you against him as he took your breath over and over again. The taste of the saltiness of his tears, the coppery tang of your lifeblood, and the musk that could only be described as him overtook your senses as the kiss deepened, your tongues jovially tangling together to explore one another’s mouths and it was pure bliss.

Astarion moans at how compassionate and loving you were treating him from the way you stroked his cheek and pulled him in close by your leg that was hitched over his thigh. It was all too much, but also never enough when it came to you. You were a breath of fresh air in this tumultuous world that cast him aside with his dark past, a light at the end of a blackened tunnel that reached out to pull him away from all the evil things lurking in the shadows. He never liked the ideation of fate or destiny, but there was a part of him that felt like he had another chance to accept it when you came along. He had the chance to accept the fact that there was good in this world and that he could find some good in himself, all because of you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly against your lips, savoring your heated breaths that ghosted across his lips. “For everything.”

You pulled away and looked up to see him already gazing down at you with a small smile on his face, taking his time to memorize every little detail that adorned your facial features.

“Anytime,” you whisper back and press another kiss on his plush lips before taking hold of his hand that was still cradling your jaw and kissing the inside of his palm. “I will always be here for you, Astarion. I know it can be hard to ask for help sometimes, but I want you to know that I’m always there for support if you need it.”

“I truly don’t deserve you, my love. You’re too sweet for me.” He chuckles with tears in his eyes once more and pulls you into a tighter hug, peppering your face in chaste kisses.

“You deserve the world and even more, sweetheart. And I want to give that all to you, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will. You have my word, darling.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dungeons and dragons #18+ content #18+ only #smut #fluff #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x y/n #little star library

[purple-goo-writes]

Punk Hazard

Now to put this into a story.

Part 2 Here

It was a normal day in Central City. The Flashes were fighting the latest team-up between Killer Frost and Captain Cold. So of course it was snowing in July now and traffic was stalled due to ìce attacks making the roads impassable. But the heroes had the villains on the ropes. Then a fresh wave of ice and cold came out of nowhere, covering everything and everyone in frost. Dropping the temperature further as the crunching of boots on ice drew everyone's attention. Dressed in distressed black leather pants with frosted chains, a black crop top with a deep v-neck lined with blue, and plenty of ice chains to rattle as he walked was a teen near Impulse's age with pale blue skin, elfin features, and long black hair streaked with white and blue. Blue lips pulled into a deadly smirk as the air started to thrum with vibrations and the beat of crackling ice, "Time to drop the beat down."

Unfortunately for the heroes, they were not familiar with this villain's move set or powers. And it seemed they had made a mistake in assuming that his powers were similar to the other two ice villains. Only to be thrown for a loop when they missed a beat and started to freeze. And the music was only getting faster and with it came faster ice attacks.

Later, Barry groaned as his team worked to get him, Wally, and Bart out of their ice prisons. The three of them were shivering and turning blue from how cold their core temps had dropped. Looked like they would be hitting the showers on max heat once thawed out.

"What in the world was that?" Wally groaned once he was finally freed, while Barry rubbed his hands together to get feeling back, "I don't know but we better get investigating to figure out how to fight this new guy."

"Yeah, I don't fancy being a Flash-cicle just because I can't keep the beat," Wally grumbled, "Dick is going to make me play sooo much Just Dance once he hears about our new villain."

"You noticed it too?" Bart shivered, taking his mind away from the fact that the new villain was around his age and rather interesting to look at. Something he hadn't noticed before on others. he shook his head, no he needed to focus, "We had to follow the beat of the music or we started to freeze up. It was pretty easy to do until he started to ramp up the difficulty. Also...He has to follow the beat as well."

Barry groaned softly as he wrapped the blanket handed to him around his shoulders, "Wally is right, we are going to have to start ramping up our Just Dance scores...Hal is going to laugh himself sick."

All three groaned realizing their respective teams were going to be insufferable.

---

"You are pretty badass, kid," Killer Frost smirked once they got away from the heroes, "What even are your powers?" "A cross between music manipulation and Ice control," He shrugged, "I've been calling it Cryo Symphony." "Got a name?" Captain Cold grunted looking over the little punk, though little probably only applied to age given the kid was nearly his height and in that awkward stage between Twink and Tank.

"I was thinking Punk Frost-" "Yeah no, I got Frost already covered and I'm not looking for a side kick," Killer Frost hissed at him, making the kid raise his hands in surrender, "Okay, how about Punk Hazard? After all, I am a punk and my powers are hazardous to other's health if they can't keep the beat." "Sounds good kid, now you got a place to stay?" Snart asked, tone gruff but concerned. He never liked seeing kids turn to the villain life, didn't really like kiddie heroes but at least they had more support then kiddie villains did.

"Ummm not really?" Danny shrugged, "Probably the bridge I've been sleeping under."

Even Frost looked concerned at that, causing Snart to sigh, "Yeah no, I got a safe house you can crash at. Come on, you look like you haven't eaten in days." Danny blinked in confusion, "Huh?" Making Frost snicker, "Sorry, kid looks like you've been adopted."

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc au #young justice #space race #dad! leonard snart #dad! Captain Cold

[hearts4renaa]

ONCE BELIEVED

summary: what they thought love was versus what you showed them it really is. featuring xiao, childe, diluc, scaramouche, albedo, and alhaitham.

contains: 0.7k words, little drabbles for each boy 🫶 fluff

a/n: finally some fluff 😭 this piece was pretty personal for me to write, since i used perceptions of the loves ive seen through my people watching/people around me/personal experiences. enjoy 🫶

Xiao thought love was a useless phenomenon that only mortals experienced. He didn’t think love was all that special, nor did he understand how someone could devote their entire life to one person. To love was to be attached. To be attached was to get hurt. However, you taught him that love did have a use; to bring out the best in each other. You brought out a different side of Xiao. A softer, gentler side that was able to relax at your touch. The side of Xiao who finally felt like each breath of air in his lungs were ones of life, and not as a reminder that he is still suffering. The side of Xiao who was proven wrong about love, but he could never be more glad than he is. Xiao knows what true love is now. Love is you.

Childe thought that love was fiery and passionate all the time. He thought that to love was to kiss dramatically in the rain, to dance in the moonlight. To forever be caught up in the thrill of it all, like a never ending adrenaline rush. But being with you made him realize that love isn’t just a thrilling roller coaster ride. Sometimes, love is the quiet laughter at night, sweet kisses on each other's foreheads, or the comfort of simply sitting next to each other. Love doesn’t always have to be burning brightly; sometimes, it’s a calm flame in the corner of the room. It may not be dramatic, but it illuminates everything around it.

Diluc thought that to be loved, he had to be worthy. He thought that he had to perfect himself in order to be loved, that he had to meet certain conditions. But then you came around and flipped his entire worldview around. You showed him that he didn’t need to be extravagant, or strong all the time, or perfect. He just had to be Diluc. Your Diluc, who does extensive research on grape juice just to find his favourite kind. Your Diluc, who wakes up early on Saturdays to make you a hot drink to serve to you in bed. Your Diluc, who brings you small trinkets with that lovely smile. Your Diluc, forever yours.

Scaramouche thought that love was like a business deal. Two people come together and realize how they could benefit off each other; that’s what it really is, right? Otherwise, how could you possibly devote your love, your trust, your time, your life to someone? But he gets it now. The moment you got through the smallest crack in his walls, it all came crashing down. The way you knew him, the way you saw right through all his bluffs and best defences. Despite the many roundabouts, you went through the labyrinth to his heart, all because you loved him. Love doesn’t always need a rhyme or reason. Sometimes, you love for the sake of loving. And loving you is one thing he’ll never regret.

Albedo thought there was a formula for love. He thought it could be calculated, predicted. You start as friends, you touch their hand to spark interest, then you flirt and so it goes. It’s ironic, because his love for you was not planned at all. In fact, it hit him like a truck. He didn’t expect any of it at all. He was so stunned that he was in denial for weeks before Kaeya literally had to call out his heart eyes for you. But now, the spontaneity of your relationship is what makes him happiest. What should the two of you do today? Stay home cuddled up in bed? A picnic at Windrise? Perhaps Albedo could draw a portrait of you? The unknown is can be scary, but not with you. And as long as you are by his side, he will go wherever the wind takes him.

Alhaitham thought that all forever loves have to go through some sort of major conflict within their relationship. He thought that you had to fight for your love. He thought that love was something you had to almost die for. When you came around, it’s as if all stars aligned. Every failed love led the two of you together. It’s as if the two of you were molded for each other. From the silent understanding stares or soft smiles from across a room, anyone outside could see the love flowing from the two of you. Of course the two of you had disagreements like any couple, but things never exploded beyond repair. At the end of the day, the two of you knew you’d be okay. Some things are just meant to be, and the two of you are one of them.

#genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #alhaitham x reader #albedo x reader #genshin fluff

[tomriddleslove]

Pt 2 - The one that you want.

✩Theodore Nott x Reader

Pt 2 to Hey, trouble (DELETED)

Summary: The one where just as things are beginning to look up, everything comes crashing down. Alternatively: Tension, Fluff, Angst.

A/N: This fic was written very sleep deprived so I ask you to bear with me. The second part is my favourite so just stick with it.

Songs: The Way - Mac Miller, Ariana Grande

Lover, you should have come over - Jeff Buckley

Promise - Laufey

NOTE: I accidentally deleted my account and did not have the first part of this mini series saved! I will probably rewrite it but there is some context you should know, so i’ll try summarise it as concisely as possible:

You and Theodore used to be really good friends when you first joined Hogwarts. Naturally, as you both got older, you changed slightly. Theodore came back one summer and he seemed completely different, he was not only incredibly handsome but he had generally flourished as a person. The girls all loved him and he found a new set of friends, essentially forgetting about you. Time skip a few years and you become friends with Pansy, and the rest of the group. Theodore greets you as though nothing has changed. You habour a lot of resentment to him initially, but realise you really do love chilling with the group and so you set it to the side. In the fic, you’re at a party and you head up to the roof. Theodore appears and you chat for the first time in ages. It gets a bit tense when you subtly call him out but you try brush it off as a joke. He noticed you at their quidditch practice earlier on in the day with mattheos number painted on your face, and he sounds a bit jealous. You assure him it was only for jokes, though you’re confused as to why he’d be upset. Theodore (internally ) alludes to loving you and you’re both emotionally stunted idiots in love.

AND that brings us back to now. Enjoy xx

Friday had finally come, and you couldn't think of a word that could place just how relieved you were feeling. Don't get it wrong, you hugely valued your education, and took pride in working hard, but at the end of the day, there's only so much history of magic one could tolerate before their brain tuned out. The surprise quiz you took in class today told you that you had reached that point many months ago. But it was ok, that was an issue for the future.

You click open the door to your dorm room, tossing your bag haphazardly to the side as you undo your tie, pulling it loose with a groan of relief. Pansy is sprawled out comfortably on your bed because apparently, yours was comfier (they were the exact same thing, she just couldn't be bothered to make hers in the morning.)

You flick a strand of hair that fell in front of your face with a dramatic sigh as you flop down onto the bed, lying perpendicular to Pansy as you rest your head on her lap. She has a half smile of amusement as her hand comes down to pat your head, eyes trained on her book. You raise a brow and shuffle up slightly to catch a glimpse of what she was reading.

You see the word ‘shaft’ once and that's all you need to see as you gasp with fake indignation.

“Pansy… Whilst I'm sitting here?” You groan and she grins, her face slightly red as she shrugs, shameless.

I mean, come on. You weren't a stranger to smut, but right in front of you? You grab the book from her hand and toss it across the room.

“None of that whilst I'm here. Your amazing and beautiful friend is vying for attention so focus on me.’ You say and she playfully rolls her eyes as she lies back on her bed.

“It's disgustingly hot. I can't be bothered for this year anymore. The days are as hot as hell depths and the evening has me freezing my nonexistent balls off.” Pansy moans, and you hum in agreement.

You’re grateful for your friend and her seemingly never-ending talent of speaking because you currently couldn't even muster the energy to speak.

“Do we have to go watch the boys today? Lila told me Madam Pince has charmed the library with a cooling spell. We could go there instead.” Pansy says, sitting up, and the idea is incredibly tempting. You live for nothing more than to get out of this dastardly heat, especially in the comfort of the library (Pansy and yourself had mastered the art of smuggling snacks in. The key was in making sure you triple-checked what you bought in, which you learnt after Pansy had accidentally sat on a Fizzlebees Exploding Sherbet last winter. The poor 1st year who had sat next to you was sure that there was some kind of attack and leapt under the nearest table.)

The mention of practice has your mind thinking back to your most recent encounter with Theodore. Just thinking about it again elicited that strange feeling in your stomach. You were, perhaps, close to a path of redemption (though it was more Theodore redeeming himself.)

With a sigh, you shake your head.

“We promised them we'd come. Besides, imagine the absolute havoc Mattheo will cause when he finds out we ditched for the library of all places. He would get us banned for a month, at the very least.” You say, and Pansy grumbles but ultimately knows you’re right. She sighs, muttering.

“Yes yes, I suppose you're right.” She begrudgingly admits and you grin, sitting up. You walk over to your closet, looking for something else to wear as you felt as though you were positively melting in your uniform. You flick through your closet, cursing the endless void that conveniently was full of sweaters and thick jumpers now summer has come. You dig around and find a pair of black denim shorts towards the back. You don't even know when you got them, but they fit and they'll do the job. You're thankful for the fact that you love the feeling of freshly shaven legs on your bedsheets, because heaven knows you would not bother to shave your legs for a man. You manage to find a green shirt, and you slip it on. It's nothing special really, but you weren't dressing up for anyone. You were long past those days now, you found that it was lovely not giving two shits. Pansy called it alarming, but you liked to think of it as… eclectic.

Pansy brings over her signature red lipstick (which you're sure only she can pull off) and holds your cheek in place to draw a number 10 on it, as standard practice. You reach up to grab her hand.

“Wait. Do 7 instead.” You say. She widens her eyes slightly and wiggles her brows as she looks at you.

“Oh? And why is that?” She probes and you playfully swat her, rolling your eyes.

“Theodore just asked me to. Besides we shouldn't inflate Mattheo's ego too much.” You respond a bit too quickly, and she has a shit-eating grin on her face. Pansy knows you well though, and she knows probing any further will only give her a stinging hex and nothing more, so she simply looks at you with a pointed look as she draws the 7 on instead. You watch as she traces the number 7 on her face too, adjusting her hair as she pouts and blows a kiss at herself in the mirror. You pointedly roll your eyes to tease her and she throws a pillow at you.

“Alright alright, you humble lady. Let's go.” You muse, holding your arm out. The two of you link arms as you descend down to the quidditch pitch. The sun is shining blazing down on you, and you feel uncomfortably hot and sticky within a few seconds of being outside. You truly weren't built for warm weather.

The grass on the pitch is a beautiful rich green and the sky is so picturesquely blue that it seems more like a postcard as opposed to real life. You imagine that this must be their favourite season; you had entertained the idea of watching one match in the winter season and immediately stopped after a gust of wind sent a bird flying into the girl sitting above you (You were sure it had given her that scratch on her cheek.) You couldn't cope with watching a match in such harsh weather, and you couldn't even begin to imagine how it must be to play in such conditions.

Idiots, really. They brought it on themselves. They definitely came to that realisation when they would be dragged out of bed at 5:00 am to go play in the freezing cold whilst you remained blissfully asleep under your warm covers.

You clamber up the stairs of the stands and curse under your breath. For all the beauty and wonders the wizarding world had, was it really that damn hard to have a few escalators here and there? You wanted to watch a practice game, not train to have the thighs of Hercules. You finally reach the top and shimmy down the benches with Pansy, leaning against the railing, The team was already up in the air, circling around whilst tossing the ball to one another. For all the grace and elegance Draco exuded on the ground, you couldn’t help but snicker when you catch the sight of him looking like he had slathered himself in red paint, all sweaty and grimacing; strands of his blonde hair clinging to his face.

“You alright up there Draco? Mummy forget to send you some sun cream?” You call out teasingly, and he sneers at you as Mattheo cackles, swooping down on his broom to greet you and Pansy.

“There they are!” Blaise says, a small grin on his face as he flies down to your level, joining Mattheo. You don’t even have the time to greet him because a loud gasp escapes Mattheo's lips, his hand coming out to grip your chin, tilting your face to the side.

“Traitors!” Mattheo says, eyes flickering between Pansy and yourself. You can't keep the grin off your face as you pry your face out of Mattheo's hands.

“Oh come on Mattheo. We love you all equally and need to express that love as such.” Pansy drawls, a taunting grin on her face.

“Fuck off, I'm the only important one,” Mattheo responds, puffing out his chest as he points to himself.

Blaise has to hold back from rolling his eyes, looking over at you exasperatedly. You exchange a glance with him and you feel your lips curl up into a small smile as you stifle a laugh.

“This was your doing! What did you do to them? Now I'm going to play like shit!” Mattheo whines, as he turns to look up at Theodore.

Theodore.

Your eyes flicker up and sure enough there he is. And god, how dare he look so good in this disgusting heat. His eyes are (and you have the feeling they were like that for quite a bit) trained on you, an unreadable expression on his face. He keeps his gaze on you, and you're sure at that moment he was trying to seduce your soul or play some stupid kind of mind tricks on you to have you thinking of him all day (it was working.)

His lips curl up into that godforsaken smile that borders on a smug little smirk. It has you embarrassingly weak in the knees and suddenly you're very glad it's hot, for you could blame your red cheeks on the heat. He flies down, tearing his gaze away from you as he comes close to Mattheo.

“Come on Mattheo, I’ve got an audience so I need to make sure I beat you embarrassingly quickly today,” Theodore says, egging his friend on.

“Yeah fucking right,” Mattheo says, turning to Theodore as the two engage in the most awful, embarrassing trash talk. You and Pansy exchange a glance and the two of you side-eye them with disdain.

The simple mind of boys managed to amaze you every time. Their attention span was impressively short.

Proving your point, Mattheo flies up to poke fun at Draco and Lorenzo, who both didn't seem to be holding up too well with the heat. You lean your elbows on the railing and stiffen slightly when Theodore flies up next to you. He hovers on his broom mid-air, resting his elbow on the railing in front of you. His face is incredibly close to yours, analysing your face with those sinful eyes of him which should be illegal because

Fuck, you were deprived.

“You wore it.” He says, and he sounds oddly breathless. You were assured by Blaise mere minutes ago that they had barely started practising.

Why did it seem so hard to speak? Why did Theodore seem so surprised? Why did you feel so bashful?

“You asked.” You respond, and his eyes search yours for a second before a smile tugs at his lips. His hand reaches out to cup your face, tilting it to the side as he looks at the 7 on your cheek.

Was this all it took for Theodore to touch you?

You’d have to start drawing 7 everywhere.

His fingers brush against your jaw, and you let out a shaky breath as his thumb runs along your cheek.

His touch leaves a fiery trail in its wake, and you are sure he has to be doing some sort of nonverbal magic because you feel as though you are going crazy. You resist the urge to let your eyes flutter shut because Theodore Nott simply has that effect.

He turns your head back and you stare at one another for a second more before he pulls back, and your mouth feels awfully dry.

“Mattheo smudged it.” He says, and his voice sounds slightly strained as he says so. You can't keep the corners of your lips from lifting slightly as you nod.

“Right.” You breathe out, looking at him. He grins, and this time you have to be sure you have not secured yourself a one-way ticket to the Janus Thickey Ward of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, because you swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for a brief second before he leans back like he's been forced to do so, wordlessly looking at you once more before he grips the broom with one hand, effortlessly flying up to start practice.

You don’t even have the time to process whatever that was because your ever-eloquent and insightful friend speaks the very thoughts running through your head.

“What in the ever-loving fuck was that?” Pansy utters, eyes wide as she stares at the spot where Theodore was standing.

Amen to that, Pansy. What in the ever-loving fuck was that?

Your hand hovers over your cheek, ghosting over the place Theodore had just touched.

You part your lips to say something, but can't even formulate the words, and Pansy recognises that.

“Holy Shit! He- That-” She says, hands grabbing your shoulders as she shakes you. You're ashamed to say you needed it because you were sure you were dreaming.

“What's going on between you two? First, you’re wearing his number to the match. Then he's practically eye fucking you and you're both literally about to make out.” Pansy babbles and you roll your eyes at her dramatics.

“Oh calm down, Pansy. He barely looked at me, and he was just fixing it because Mattheo had smudged it. There's nothing going on.” She says and Pansy narrows her eyes.

“Oh yes, and I’m fucking straight. We both know that's a lie.” She deadpans, and you shake your head with an exasperated smile.

You couldn't tell whether you wanted to crack up with laughter or strangle the shit out of her. With Pansy, the line blurred more often than not. It’s why you loved her so dearly.

“Genuinely Pansy, nothing’s going on between Theodore and me. We used to be really good friends. That's all.” You say, with a tone of finality. She sighs, mumbling under her breath.

“….Painfully obvious”

“Both know that's a lie…..”

“Hopeless idiot…”

You shoot her a glare at her mumbling and she returns the sentiment with a pointed smile, enough to make you roll your eyes with amusement. You rest your head on her shoulder as the two of you watch the match.

The day Theodore had walked past you like you simply didn't exist was the day you swore to yourself you'd never, EVER, let yourself be good friends with him again. You stuck to your word always, yet this was proving to be one time where you didn't.

You prayed you wouldn't regret this, but alas, the universe is cruel at times.

The news of Draco’s father cancelling their annual summer holiday trip came surprisingly as great news to your groups as you all lounged in the library (which was as packed as it had ever been thanks to Madam Pince’s cooling charm. You all begged her to teach you the spell but she refused, and you were sure she kept it hidden to make sure people came to the library. Luckily for the group, you were one of the most conscientious students in your year, so you'd all get away with things due to the teachers favouring you greatly. A few other groups were kicked out immediately.)You all sat in a cosy arrangement in the far back end of the library. Pansy sat on the floor beside you, whilst you lounged in an armchair, feet thrown over one arm. Blaise sat on the other arm of the chair, with Draco and Theodore sitting opposite you. Between the armchair and sofa facing one another was a third sofa and a small round table. Mattheo and Lorenzo sat on that third sofa. Lorenzo stretches, sprawled out as he props his feet up on the table. You reach out and slap him with the book you were reading, and he cowers sheepishly as he puts his feet down.

“I was looking forward to summer in Versailles,” Draco complains, and you sigh. Would be nice to be able to go on such trips.

“Actually…” Pansy says, sitting up as though she’s just had an idea. Knowing your friend, you can't help but feel terrified about what's about to come out of her mouth.

“My parents have a beautiful holiday home down in France and they're going to Australia this year, so it's not being used. Why don't we all spend a week there?” Pansy says.

It's actually a very clever Idea, and a chorus of murmurs of agreement and nods echo throughout the group.

“That actually sounds good” Lorenzo says, and Blaise hums in agreement.

“I have family who live in France so they could sort out travel for us when we are there. I'm sure I can go.” Baise says and Pansy claps her hands excitedly, rubbing them together like some kind of evil genius (sometimes you were sure she was.)

“Draco, Theo?” Pansy says, and the mention of Theo's name has your eyes flickering up from your book. He's looking at you but the second your eyes meet he quickly looks at Pansy and nods, clearing his throat.

“Huh? Oh, uh- yeah.Sounds good.” He says. You lightly smile to yourself as you look down at your book.

“ I suppose I’ll tolerate it.” Draco sighs, and a chorus of groans escapes the group at his melodramatic behaviour.

“Oh piss off Draco, just admit you like us,” Mattheo says and Draco scoffs.

The boys very quickly once again get into a semi-play fight, and a stern hush from Madam Pince as she glares at the group of you sends them both sheepishly quiet. She walks away and it’s your turn to glare at the two boys.

“She may like me now, but if you two don't shut up she sure as fuck won't, and ill set your robes on fire if you force me to get through the summer whilst being banned from the library.” You spit, scolding them.

Mattheo and Draco both look down like children being chastised and Blaise has to hide his amusement as he nudges your shoulder, getting up.

“Right well, that's our cue to leave anyway. Have the real match tomorrow so we need an early night.” Blaise says. One by one everyone gets up, Pansy pushing off the floor with a sigh as she dusts down her skirt.

She turns to you, raising a brow.

“You coming?” She asks, holding a hand out and you look up, shaking your head.

“Nah. Gonna stay here for a while. Finish reading this.” You say, holding up your book with a weak smile. Pansy shakes her head with a smile, ruffling your hair (much to your dismay).

“My little neek. Have fun!” She says, and you flip her off at the comment. She grins, blowing a fake kiss back at you as she manoeuvres past the wooden bookshelves and out of the library.

You sigh and feel as though you're sinking further into the plush armchair, a pillow held to your chest as you read your book. Everything about the library was so pleasantly calming. The dim lights that cast dancing shadows of the book spines across the wall. The bibliosmia that you inhaled deeply as you lay for what felt like hours, reading whatever you could get your hands on. You’re so caught up in the allure of the library (Pansy might have a point, you definitely were a neek), that you don't even notice the presence of someone coming to sit down on the sofa next to you until the sound of the leather cushions sagging under weight draws your attention up from the pages of the book.

Seriously? Were you actually that oblivious? It was extremely alarming if you were.

You look up and see Theodore moving to take a seat on the sofa next to you. He stretches out his legs, his large frame suddenly making the space seem a lot smaller.

“Hey.” He says, and your lips quirk up in a smile as you speak.

“Hey,” You respond, folding the corner of your book.

“What are you reading?” Theodore asks, and you raise a brow.

Did he really have an interest in the book you were reading? A few years ago the Theodore you knew would never touch a book (though he would listen to you ramble on about them for an hour.)

But Theodore has changed, And so have you. He’s no longer the Theodore you knew, and the reminder turns the feeling in your stomach unpleasant.

You hold up your book, weakly smiling as you show him the cover. It was rather beaten and bruised, but you had owned this copy since your first year. You’ve reread it more times than you can count.

“Little women,” Theodore says, a small smile of recognition on his face. He remembered you, always walking around with that book. Theodore couldn’t comprehend what half the words in the book meant, but he remembered hearing you talk about it and thinking you were truly the most incredible person he had ever met.

That hadn't really changed.

“Mhmm. Must be my 5th time rereading it this year.” You say, with a small smile, and Theodore lets out a low laugh.

He's looking down at the table, and you admire the way the dim light dances along his features, making them look surprisingly soft.

“Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts…” Theodore starts, gaze trained ahead.

“......because you can't have the one you want” You finish, quietly.

Theodore's gaze drops to his hands, fiddling with the threads on his bag. The air is thick with unspoken words. A quiet dance of regrets lingers in the spaces between your words.

"Little Women," Theodore repeats, his fingers tracing the zip on his bag. "I remember how you used to quote passages from that book like they were sacred verses. It was almost like a religion for you."

You can sense the undertone in his words—the acknowledgement of a shared past that now exists as a distant echo.

The silence that follows hangs heavy.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the worn pages of the book suddenly feeling like a fragile shield against the currents of emotion. Theodore's eyes, once familiar and comforting, now carry a hint of regret and a touch of something unsaid.

"Jo March was always your favourite," he continues, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“Still is,” you say, and he nods, looking up at you. His smile is tight-lipped, and you fight the urge to reach forward and massage the furrow of his brow. He reaches into the side pocket of his bag, pulling out a book.

Little women.

You frown as you take the copy from him, flicking through it. There are scribbles and annotations all over the pages.

You hate the way you instantly recognise his handwriting - another testament as to how Theodore was weaved into everything you did.

Theodore takes the book back, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. He opens the book, thumbing through the pages, his eyes fixing on the annotations.

"I've been reading it," he admits, his voice a low murmur. "Annotating it. I wanted to see it through your eyes, to understand why it meant so much to you."

You watch him, and your heart clenches at his voice. At his eyes, At the way he speaks, and the way he keeps his head down. The realisation that he held onto this piece of you, even as you both drifted apart, is enough to send you into a spiral.

"I see you in these pages," Theodore continues, his gaze locking onto the annotated paragraphs. "I see you in between the lines, and in the words. I see you in Jo, I see you in the witty comments. Every time I read this, It's like a piece of you is still here with me."

A lump forms in your throat, and you swallow hard, trying to push back the tears that threaten to spill over.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry

“Every time I read these words, I feel like I'm back with you, even if just for a moment." He admits, looking up at you.

The devastation in his eyes is surely mirrored in your own.

You want to cry. You want to shout, because how dare he sit here, and speak of you with such reverence, and act like he cares for you when he had forgotten about you so easily? How dare he say he sees you in everything he does when he looked right past you when you stood in front of him?

How dare he act like he missed you when he didn’t?

You can't say anything. You physically can't, because every time you open your mouth it hurts. Grief clings to the pipes, scratching at your throat. It restricts your breathing, it gnaws at you.

Theodore looks at you and clears his throat, quickly looking down. You fail to make out the fact that his own eyes are threatening to spill with tears, as your own teary eyes cloud your vision.

It was always like that with you and Theodore.

Amid your shared tears, the unspoken suddenly becomes the unsayable.

He gets up, and he can't bear to look at your face because every glance of those tears in your eyes eats away at his heart. He grabs his bag and throws it over his shoulder, rushing out for fear of what you might say.

“See you” He murmurs, walking away. You can’t tear your gaze away from where he walks away even as his form disappears, and you swear the boy had taken part of your heart with him.

The quote “Fate was a cruel mistress” Never made much sense to you. Fate was beautiful even in its destructive nature. Fate was unstoppable, she didn't wait for anyone or veer away. You used to admire that about her. You found it to be a beautiful thing. Of course, it's because you also believe that fate would only wait for you. Wait that one extra second. Then, perhaps, Theodore and you would be on the same path. Instead, you were two, walking the same path only a heartbeat apart. As if time itself conspires to teach that love can occur in the same book, but pages apart.

You cannot love the beauty of her tenacity and cower from it too.

#harry potter #slytherin #tom riddle #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fic #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys #theodore nott angst

[pinejayy]

Hantengu Clones x F!Reader who stands up to Sekido

Separate things for the Clones // Reader is tried of his constant anger so she stands up to him.

Trigger Warnings: curse words, sekido slaps you, yelling, you also slapping sekido because he needs it, sekido also throws you like a ragdoll??

Sekido

“YOU GUYS ARE SO FUCKING USELESS, I CAN’T DEAL WITH YOU IDIOTS!” You could hear you boyfriend yelling at the others. Sighing to yourself, you had a headache and his yelling made it worse. As you were in your room you tried ignore his yelling but it was so hard.

Then hearing a loud crash made you snap, growling at yourself. You stood up and went to where the boys were and you saw a very angry boyfriend with the other clones pretty annoyed and upset. Then seeing a broken window, it seemed as Sekido threw something at the window. “What the fuck is going on here?! I have a headache and you’re not helping!”

“This doesn’t involve you stupid Human, now go away...” Sekido said harshly. You walked to him and stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips.

“Well now it does, what happened.” You say, rubbing your head.

‘LIKE I SAID THIS DOESN’T INVOLVE YOU, NOW LEAVE.” He said more loudly. Usually his yelling would make you cry but not tonight. 

“He’s just angry because we don’t listen to him! He always wants his way and if he doesn’t get his way he starts getting like this..” Karaku said. And this made Sekido mad, his blood was boiling at this point and that’s when he yelled once again. Making you roll your eyes…of course he’s starts throwing a bitch fit if he doesn’t get his way.

“BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL GOOD FOR NOTHING! AND YOU Y/N THIS DOESN’T INVOLVE YOU! ARE YOU STUIPD!”

*SLAP*

The room went silent, you slapped your boyfriend across the face. He looked at you shocked holding his face, did you just slap him? The other clones looked shocked you never stood up and especially towards him. He growled at you.

You turn around and look at the other Clones. “Would you boys give us a minute...now!” 

They couldn’t help but just nod, of he’s definitely gonna kill you. But they just went to the other room, but they still listened though. Waiting for your death.

As you were about to speak up Sekido had pinned you to the nearest wall. You gasped slightly, he was so quick. And he quickly he placed a harsh kiss on your soft lips. You tried to push him off but he was too strong. So you just gave in, kissing him back. 

He pulled away and looked at you. His red eyes were harsh. “You dare slap me? Heh, you have guts that’s for sure.”

“Yes, you deserved it!” You hiss back, he chuckled and gripped your waist and he leaned in. “I like that...” He whispered against your ear, he quickly pinned you down to the floor. “I need to blow off some steam, are you going to help me out? Since you wanted to be apart of this argument.” 

You look at him and roll your eyes. “Bring it..”  And this made him smirk. He leaned and started to kiss you and soon after your clothes came off and so did his. And oof the other clones just heard the whole thing! 

Karaku 

You were patiently waiting for your boyfriend and his brothers so come back, but they seemed to take longer than usually and of course this made you worry for them. You started to think about negative thoughts, as you were sitting in the living room looking at the front door, as you were about to get stand up the door swung open. And you saw a very angry Sekido... “YOU’RE SO STUIPD! WHY IS EVERYTHING A GAME TO YOU?” 

“AND WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS UP MY ASS!” Karaku yelled back to him. Looking up you saw your boyfriend Karaku being yelled by Sekido. The other two just watched, they seemed tried of their yelling. “WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS LIKE THIS? WHAT’S UP YOUR ASS SEKIDO. OH THAT’S RIGHT NOTHING BECAUSE NO ONE WOULD SUPPORT YOUR GRUMPY ASS ATTITUDE.”

And that’s when Karaku and Sekido were face to face, ready to throw hands at each other and that’s when you decide to to step in. Standing in between them you hold your arms up blocking your boyfriend from Sekido. “OKAY OKAY! What happened!” You say looking at Sekido.

“THIS DOESN’T INVOLVE YOU, YOU USED UP WHORE.” 

You raised your eyebrow, looking at him. “Excuse me? What did you call me!” You hiss at him. Now you were in his face, Karaku just stood there he just pull you away but he wanted to see what would happen next. 

“A. USED. UP. WHORE.” He said and before he could speak up again his head turned to the side. *SLAP* 

You had slapped him across the face. And you heard Urogi let out a small chuckle and Aizetsu a small whimper. “Why you little bitch-” Sekido said, raising his hand ready to slap you and that’s when both Urogi and Aizetsu stepped in and held him back. 

Your boyfriend picked you up and carried you off. He took you outside and far away from the house. Soon after he set you down. “Wow I didn’t know you would slap him.” He said laughing slightly. 

You crossed your arms and pouted. “He called me a used up whore and he was yelling at you! What else was I gonna do?” You say.

This just made him laugh and he grabbed you and hugged you. “No one has ever stood up for me like that!” He nuzzled his face into your neck. “You’re amazing! And you’re not a used up whore, you know Sekido he just always has a stick up his ass..” 

This made you laugh slightly, you wrap you arms around him and held him. “You think he’s mad at me.”

“Oh no no, he’s not gonna be mad at you. He’s gonna be pissed off. It’s best to stay out of his way.” He said, stilling holding you. “But I think it’s best to give him his space..But in the meantime.” He began saying, soon after he pinned you to the nearest tree. “We can kill some time.” He said winking. “I’ll make you my used up whore.” He said jokingly.

Aizetsu

As you were laying on your bed, you waited for your sweet boyfriend and his brothers to return from their mission. It’s been hours since you seen them and quite frankly you were getting bored. You wished you had Aiztsu here, as you laid on the bed you slowly began to close your eyes that’s until you heard the door open. Quickly getting up, they’re back! You quickly made it to the living room, and that’s when you saw Sekido yelling at your boyfriend. This made you frown instantly.

“YOU’RE SO FUCKING USELESS, WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS CRYING OVER EVERYTHING HUH!” Sekdio was yelling, he had Aizetsu trapped into a corner. Poor Aizetsu had tears in his eyes. Seeing Sekido treat your boyfriend like this made you blood boil, you started to walk towards him but you were stopped. Karaku grabbed your arm and shook his head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea Doll.” You struggled against his grip.

“Let go of me.” You hiss softly. 

He just shook his head, he gave you a sorry look. So that just left you and the two other brothers looking at the argument. “”SO FUCKING USELESS, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING DEMON!” Sekido began saying, and he grabbed a hand full of Aizetsu’s hair pulling it. “USELESS USELESS!” He yelled out.

This made your blood boil even more, your face was turning red. You ripped your arm away from Karaku and running in between Sekido and your boyfriend. Pushing Sekido out of the way. Holding your arms up protecting your boyfriend. The poor thing was whimpering mess, tears streaming down his check. 

“What’s your problem! Leave him alone! He isn’t useless!”

“YOU STUIPD HUMAN! YOU DARE GET IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS! WHY I GOTTA-” He began yelling, slapping you hard across the face Your head turning to the side from the impact. Holding your check, looking at him. 

“You hit like a bitch!” You hiss at him. 

Sekido looked at you as he was about to jump you but both Karaku and Urogi were holding him. And Aizetsu grabbed you and carried you bride style and ran off. Running outside, and once you guys were a good distance away he set you down. “Sweetheart! Why would you do that!” He cried out, holding you. He looked at your cheek and saw redness. Making him even more upset. It’s definitely gonna leave you a bruise.

“No please don’t get upset, I couldn’t just watch him treat you like that..I had to do something..” You say looking down. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that..” 

He sighed and hugged you tight. “I appreciate it Y/N, but if I were you it’s best if we avoid Sekido for awhile let him calm down..” 

You just nodded and then started to cry out. “THAT WAS A PAINFUL SLAP!” Holding your face.  Aizetsu got upset and he held you. “I’ll make it up to you sweetheart.” He whimpered out softly. Holding you close. 

Urogi

“WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS PLAYING WITH OUR PREY! THIS ISN’T SOME GAME!” You heard yelling once again Sighing to yourself you walk to where the yelling was and all four demons were there. Sekido of course was yelling at your boyfriend once again. Making you roll your eyes. You just stood there watching. 

“Why does it matter? It’s fun! We got our food. So remove that staff of yours from my ass and fuck oof.” Urogi hissed at him. He began walking away and thats when Sekido grabbed his shoulder and punching him square in the jaw making him fall on his butt. He groaned out holding his jaw. And that’s when you finally stepped in between them looking at the red eyed Demon.

“MOVE AWAY LITTLE GIRL!” He yelled out. But you didn’t move away, you just stood there. “I SAID MOVE! ARE YOU DEAF?”

You snarled at him. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on him! Or else.” And that’s when Sekido began laughing loudly. Urogi was still on the floor holding onto his jaw. “Or what?” He hissed at you, taking a step closer to you.

With that you raised your hand slapping him across the face. This made him upset and before anyone could react he grabbed your shoulder and pushed you to the side quite hard. Falling to the side like a ragdoll. And he was walking towards you, not paying attention to Urogi anymore. “You little bitch.” 

But before he could do anything both Aizetsu and Karaku grabbed him holding him back. And Urogi grabbed you and held you bride style and flew away with you. Taking you to his nest. He placed you down gently. 

“Babey why would you do that? I could have handle it myself.” He said feeling upset. You looked at you and held your hand.

“Because someone needs to stand up for him! And I didn’t appreciate that he was treating you like that!” You say crossing your arms. Pouting.

This made him chuckle slightly. “Ah you’re a feisty one, but you know he’s gonna be pissed off.”

“Yeah so what? Not like he’s always pissed off.” You say.

“Yeah, but more than usual..let’s just give him his space. But for now let me treat you good for standind up for me.” He said winking at you.

#hantengu clones #hantengu x reader #Sekido #sekido x reader #Karaku #karaku x reader #Aizetsu #Aizetsu x reader #Urogi #urogi x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader