#a lot of this is because i can't stand pining | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

espinosaurusrexex · 5 months

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Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck.

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things.

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home.

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again.

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did.

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away.

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you.

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul.

Holy Shit.

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer.

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare.

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you.

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it.

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner.

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve.

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement.

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again.

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen.

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly.

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.”

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar.

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid.

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table.

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City.

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted.

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.”

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.”

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible.

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends.

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction.

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them.

“You aren’t serious.”

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup.

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.”

“You’re rich, too, Sam.”

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.”

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.”

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now.

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked.

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great.

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite.

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule.

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do.

You knew better though.

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible.

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so.

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work.

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home.

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him.

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right.

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary.

It was worrisome.

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him.

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet.

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.”

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?”

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock.

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little.

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore.

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way.

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward.

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.”

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall.

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through.

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back.

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions.

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty.

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet.

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit.

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise.

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that.

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage.

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.”

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him.

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude.

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.”

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long.

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you.

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips.

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent.

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler.

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard.

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool.

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy.

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture.

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you.

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there.

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before.

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there.

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off.

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was.

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell.

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants.

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants.

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip.

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video.

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress.

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer.

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream.

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises.

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying.

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks.

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter.

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers.

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated.

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again.

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing!

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed.

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet.

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.”

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work.

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office.

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong.

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set.

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good.

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet.

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end.

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk.

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island.

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were.

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top.

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too.

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say.

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now.

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near.

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch.

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display.

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face.

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well.

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours.

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently.

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace.

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air.

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his.

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.”

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine.

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient.

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.”

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them.

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core.

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world.

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.”

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.”

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.”

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more.

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind.

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out.

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything.

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you.

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure.

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs.

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him.

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm.

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating.

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again.

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder.

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach.

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind.

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer.

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest.

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you.

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him.

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure.

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone.

“Good morning, Sharon.”

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head.

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away.

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant.

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as.

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker.

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful.

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning.

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts.

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m.

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything.

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud.

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was.

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly.

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom.

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard.

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated.

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off.

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by.

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead.

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin.

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt.

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra.

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them.

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat.

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right.

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.”

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist.

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much.

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you.

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation.

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

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tired-biscuit · 6 months

Note

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

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astraystayyh · 9 months

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You're sexy I'm sexy

Jeongin x reader. Friends to lovers. Lots of pining and tension. Innie has a fat crush. Mention of alcohol and drinking!

Inspired by You're sexy I'm sexy by Eric Nam, also by this moodboard by @chachachannah <3

Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.

skz song series masterlist.

a.n: 7/8 of the series and a little fun break from all the angst <3 can't believe there is only one fic to go now :")

Jeongin is out with nine of his friends, they are loud and boisterous, their laughter echoing throughout the small bar they're in. Yet, the only thing he can seem to focus on is you. You're giggling at a joke Minho just told, and it feels as if your laugh is molten sunshine, running through his veins and igniting him from within.

You squint your eyes as you take a sip of your drink, your nose scrunching up as the liquor grazes your tastebuds, and Jeongin can't seem to take his eyes off of you. He is enthralled by your every move, and you're not even doing anything.

He's had a crush on you for a while, four months to be exact- 120 days where his every waking moment was spent thinking of you. It happened so abruptly, taking him completely off-guard. He's never felt this way before- a blushing mess, putty in your hands, so pliable for you to mold however you want.

He shakes his head, tugging slightly at his black bangs. He remembers how you complimented him on his new color, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. You’re always so nonchalant, in your way of touching him as if you don't leave him burning up in your trail. As if your knee bumping into his doesn't make electricity shoot through his body, as if your arm resting lazily on his shoulder doesn't make the world around him fade away, until all he sees is you.

You stand up to go get another drink, and Jeongin finally feels as if he can breathe again. "You're staring at yn," Hyunjin nudges his side with his elbow, and Jeongin drawls out a whine, hiding his face in his hands, "I know."

Some time has passed, and Chan has called over some people he knows, so now everyone is squeezed into this tiny brown booth with Jeongin at the end of it. But no one seems to mind the lack of space, everyone is delighted the exam season is finally over.

You come back, a red drink in your hand, and Jeongin can tell it’s you just from the intoxicating smell of your perfume. He's learned to recognize you through those small details- he can even distinguish your soft knocks on his door when you visit his dorm.

There is no place left for you in the booth, and you pout slightly. Jeongin goes to stand up to leave you his place, but you push him gently back down.

"Do you mind?" you ask, pointing at his lap and he startles, looking between you and his legs. He stays silent for a while, unsure of how to answer, and you smile slightly.

"Never mind, it's okay," you leave to get a chair but he grabs your hand abruptly, pulling you on top of his lap.

Jeongin doesn't know what's taking over him, he's never been this bold. But he accounts it on the one sip of alcohol he's taken, this, and the fact you proposed such a thing. He knows you're tipsy because your cheeks are tinted pink and you don't seem to mind where you’re sitting, on his lap.

Jeongin can't think straight anymore, too overwhelmed by the warmth of your body. You are everywhere, all at once, and he feels a sudden urge to bury his face in your hair and never let go. You move your hair to your right shoulder, and the scent of your shampoo tickles his nose. The curve of your neck is exposed, and he wonders what would happen if he grazed it with his teeth.

Would shivers run down your spin? Would you gasp softly, pupils dilating as if trying your best to take him all in?

You are laughing, again, and the melodic sound pulls Jeongin out of his wandering thoughts. He finds it endearing, how your entire body shakes when you chuckle, as if laughter reverberates through you from head to toe. Was it normal to be so aware of someone's existence? To know them more than you know yourself?

"Am I bothering you?" you turn to ask him, a soft smile on your face, and he shakes his head. It felt as if his tongue was tied in an impossible knot, he couldn't think, or dare to speak with you so near.

"You're warm," you point out, placing your cold hands on his heated cheeks. He closes his eyes, leaning into your cooling touch.

"Here, let me," you smile, grabbing the collar of his leather jacket and shrugging it off of him. He simply watches as you place the discarded jacket on top of your lap, before rolling the sleeves of his white t-shirt a bit upward. Your hand lingers on his forearm, squeezing it lightly, and it feels as if you’ve sealed the skin with your palm. Anyone who gazes at it will be able to tell you touched him.

You lean your back onto his chest, and Jeongin tentatively wraps his arm around your waist. Your hand reaches up to play absentmindedly with his silver rings, and he wonders what you must look like to other people. He wanted them to think that you were a couple, he realizes. Maybe if enough people believed it, it'd become a reality.

The night passes and the place beside Jeongin frees up, but you stay on his lap. His chin is now on your shoulder, your back snug against his chest. He can feel every twitch of your body and every soft exhale you take, and he unconsciously mirrors your actions, as if looking for any way to intertwine your being with his.

He goes to grab a water bottle from the table but you hand it to him, unscrewing the cap in the process. You turn to face him, as he brings the bottle to his mouth, his eyes still fixated on you. A water droplet runs down his throat, and you trace over its path with your finger lightly, which makes his Adam's apple bob up and down furiously.

Your finger doesn't leave his skin- you are tracing over his collarbones now, and he licks his lips nervously. Your touch is barely there, it would be farfetched to even compare it to a feather. But it's you who's touching him, so he feels it, everywhere.

Your hand moves to rest on top of his chest, and he knows you can feel his heart beating widely in there. He thinks the entire room can hear it at this point. A testament of what you do to him, of what you make him feel. Only you.

"Hi there," you smile innocently and Jeongin lets out a dry chuckle, his hooded eyes gazing intensely into yours.

"Hey you," he whispers, grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. His gaze flickers from your eyes, to your nose and then to your lips. It stays there, too enamored to possibly move somewhere else. You're talking, he knows you are, but he can't seem to hear what you are saying.

He can't blame it on the alcohol because he hasn't even drunk that much. But his mind is foggy with thoughts of you, of what he wants to do with you, if you'd let him.

"Why are you looking at me like this?" you ask, a slight giggle rhythming your words.

"Do you even know how pretty you are," he says in awe before his eyes slightly widen in shock. Did he just say this out loud?

"Is that why you kept looking at me all night?" you smile, a hint of teasing in your tone, and Jeongin buries his head in your shoulder. "Shut up," he says lowly, embarrassment clear in his voice at being caught.

"It's okay, you're so pretty too," you smile, pulling his head away so you'd be able to look at him again.

His eyes find your lips instantly, like two magnets that can't help but be drawn to one another- fated to be together, no matter how much they try to stay apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks breathlessly, raw hope dripping from his tone. "We don't have to be something more I just-"

You cut him off with your mouth crashing on his, desperately, and he gasps onto you as if you're the oxygen with which he breathes. You taste sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he's getting drunk from the way your mouths move against one another. He wraps his arm around your waist, thumb brushing your sides gently in an effort to bring you impossibly close. Your hands finds his hair, tugging slightly at the ends of it, and it's as if you wanted this too all along. As if Jeongin wasn't alone in his longing for you.

Your lips are soft, immensely so, and he doesn't think he can go back to not kissing you. To preserving you in his mind as a fond memory, not when he knows what it feels like to have his mouth on yours.

"I want to be somebody to you," he says between kisses, desperation lacing his words. He doesn't care how needy he sounds. He's been waiting for four months. If there is a slight chance you like him back, he'd take it and water it enough until it blooms into something much more.

"You already are," you smile into the kiss, your teeth clashing against his which makes you both giggle. "You'll kiss me again when we are sober, right?"

"I'll kiss you for the rest of my life if you'd let me," he brushes his nose against yours gently, and you smile softly at him, wiping the remains of your red lipstick from the corner of his mouth. He places a tender kiss on your wrist, before pressing his swollen lips onto yours again.

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you. [8.8k]

warnings 18+ only smut, fem!reader, eddie teaches you how to masturbate, p in v sex, light praise kink, mutual pining/lusting, lots of kissing, dirty talk, weed ment, aftercare, they are not so secretly infatuated with one another, eddie is a soft dork but also dirty <3 r implied as dressing very femininely

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie kneels outside his trailer.

You stop at the lip of the grass and wonder what he's doing. His back is to you, covered by a band shirt familiar even from this angle and riddled with rips and moth holes. You're about to call out to him when he speaks.

"You're hot, huh, sweetheart?" Softer than you've ever heard him. "Why don't you go inside? Escape the heat, yeah?"

You approach slowly, footfall smothered by the lush green underfoot. He's scratching behind the ears of a tabby cat.

"It's so hot out! The sun's gonna cook you," he says, whisper-shouting.

Like the tabby can understand what he's saying it stands, stretches tall and then slinks off into the trailer. "Good girl," Eddie says, standing up.

"Are you collecting strays?" you ask lightly.

He turns to you, surprised but not scared. "Don't worry, you're still my favourite."

Good girl. His words ring loud between both ears. "I'm not a stray."

"Uh-huh. What's my shy girl want today?" You spin on your heel and Eddie starts laughing. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Come on, you'll like what I have!"

"You know I can't talk to you when you get like this," you tell him, pouting from over your shoulder.

He pushes a mess of black curls behind his ear and beckons you forward. "Come on," he says, sing-song. "Let daddy set you up."

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, following Eddie into his house unhappily.

You hate when he gets in this mood, not because he's ever really made you uncomfortable, but because you like to be teased, and he knows it. Or he likes watching you squirm. Either way, it's dangerous territory.

"How much did you want?" he asks.

The cool inside of his trailer is a blessing. You hold your naked arms away from your skin and try to take a deep breath of cool air. "I have thirty dollars. So… however much that is."

"Babe, what the fuck do you want so much for?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at you incredulously.

You follow him into his room. "Do you not have it?" you ask, tracing posters you've seen upwards of ten times by now. Eddie's a good dealer – reliable, sweet, and prone to freebies without any pervy requests in place.

He once swapped you an eighth for a cheap charm bracelet. He wears it now, the silver delicate and entirely too sweet for his metalhead appearance. It looks good on him, anyhow.

He pulls open the usual lunchbox you hadn't noticed sitting on one of his amps and pulls out more pot than you've ever seen at one time. "Don't I?"

"Woah."

"Uh-huh. Ern't she preddy?" he asks in a drawing southern accent.

You hold out your hands and he lets you take it. When you open the zip lock bag, the smell isn't awful. The buds are thick with green fuzz, and your eyes water.

You pass it back to him. "How much can I have for thirty?"

"For you? Half."

"Don't do that, Eddie. Gimme what you'd give anyone else."

"But you're not anyone else, babe. You're my favourite customer."

"I'm gonna put you out of business," you say, lightly chiding. "Can I sit down?"

He hums and nods and you sit cross legged at the top of his bed. His bed sheets are pushed away and the space is cold. His pillow under your hand is colder.

Eddie doesn't bother weighing it. You roll your eyes at him but also feel amazingly happy, because it's a lot of pot for not a lot of money, because his favouritism speaks for what you hope might be a small crush. Still, when he passes you the new bag you feel guilty.

"Eddie, I can't take that. I know that's more than thirty."

His eyebrows jump. "I don't care. What's the point in doing this if I can't give pretty girls a little something extra?"

"I don't know. To make money?"

He holds out the bag. You don't take it. "Fine," he says, sighing.

"Thank you." You watch him fish three or four bigger buds out of the bag. He presents you with a much more reasonable amount, his hands stained with the smell. "Thank you," you say again.

"Yeah. Wanna stay and watch a movie?"

You've known Eddie since middle school. Classmates, not really friends, not not friends, though ever since you've started buying a small kinship has blossomed between you.

"What movie?"

"Whatever you want."

You nibble the inside of your lip. "You'll roll up for me?"

"Sure will."

So you end up on Eddie's couch with the tabby cat that isn't his purring heavily on your lap as he rolls a couple of joints for you. You won't smoke anything until tonight so Eddie drops them into your newly acquired ziplock bag with papers and the leftover bud.

He sniffs. "So, you're not sleeping?" he asks knowingly, straightening out with a groan and disappearing out of view into the kitchenette. You're a total overthinker. Pot helps you calm down.

"I'm sleeping."

"After toking up."

"There's…" You scratch the vibrating cat behind its ears, frowning to yourself. "Worse things to do."

"Better ones, though. Hey, do you want a drink?"

You say no and he brings you a glass of water anyways. His hands smell strongly of hand soap and faintly of weed as he passes it to you. You take it carefully, wary of disturbing your cuddle partner.

"Like what?" you ask.

"Cranking one out, for starters."

You wince, afraid to bring the lip of the glass to your mouth in case you choke on it. "Anything else?"

"Running?" Eddie suggests, sitting with you but leaving a more than comfortable gap between your legs.

"Not my thing," you murmur.

It's weird, but anything above murmuring feels like shouting in the calm of his home. The movie plays on the TV and the cat purs, Eddie spreads his legs out and slouches into the cushions, his face surrounded by dark hair. He smiles at you like he always does, amicable if slightly flirty.

"Maybe pot is your only option," he says mournfully. He pulls a lock of hair in front of his face and his eyebrows pinch together. "Make sure you brush your teeth after though. Or you'll get bad teeth."

"Bad teeth?"

"Smoking ruins your pearls."

You put down your glass of water and weave your fingers into the cat's rough fur. Eddie is really nice. Really really nice. And he probably likes you, so… what's the worst that could happen, by asking?

I'm only asking, you decide.

"Eddie," you say softly, disrupting a big tobacco rant that he'd started. "What- when you say cranking one out, that's-"

"You know." He holds his hand above his crotch and squeezes the air. You feel a terrible heat start to collect in your abdomen. "Five to one? Uh- Nulling the void?" He grasps for words at your lost expression. "Making soup?"

His voice goes high. You think he's as embarrassed as you are, and you're not gonna ask again. You giggle. "Oh, right."

He drops his hand heavy against the seat of his pants and leans back. "Crank one out and sleep like a log."

"That works for you?" you ask tentatively.

"Every night."

You sink down into the couch and hide your face in cat fur. Eddie starts asking about how your job is, a genuine, earnest interest that further cements your next decision. You clear your throat.

"Eddie, can I ask you something?" He grins and waves his hand. "When you," you wince, "'make soup', do you just- how do you…" You slink down so far you're almost falling off of the couch. "How do you make yourself-" You gesture to your pelvis and then screw your hand into a fist, self-conscious.

He blinks. "Finish?"

You look at the chain around his neck rather than his face. "Yeah."

"Are you asking me because you want to know how I do it, or because you don't know how to do it to yourself?"

You rub your cheek with your shoulder. "The second option."

"Shit," he mutters.

"Sorry, you don't have to- I just thought-"

Eddie sits up. He looks more serious than he had before but not any less patient, elbows braced on his knees and head propped up in his hand. He parts his fingers over his lips.

"You don't know how?" he asks.

"I must've missed that lesson in sex ed," you try to joke. It comes out awkward. Eddie laughs anyways, a huff of breath.

"Lucky you, I've sat through sex ed three times." He grins brilliantly, but his joking tone softens when he sees your hesitant expression. "If you wanna know, I'm happy to tell you."

"Are you sure?"

"We're friends, right? What are friends for?" You don't miss the sarcastic twist to his words or his ironic smile.

Friends like you and Eddie likely aren't meant to be giving one another lessons on masturbation. But really, he's the only person you know who you could ask and wouldn't feel totally looked down on. Eddie's nice to his core, but better – he doesn't judge.

You struggle to know what to ask.

The cat chooses this moment to wake and jump off of you, strutting out of the trailer's open door and back into the sunlight without so much as a grateful look back.

And now you're alone with him.

"How's your anatomy?" he asks. You shake your head slowly. "You know, grade wise? Are we passing? B? B-? C?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Munson."

"Do you know what's what?" he asks concisely.

You sit up and press your knees together, suddenly very aware of your 'anatomy'. "I think so."

He purses his lips for a few seconds before shrugging. "Alright. We can work with that." Eddie pushes his cheek into the couch and looks at your face unflinching as he says, "You know what your clit is?"

You cringe. Full body.

Eddie shrugs. "What? That's what it's called. You don't have to be embarrassed about it."

"I know what it is."

"And you can't make yourself-"

"No."

He doesn't miss your frustration. "Hey, hey, it's fine. Some people think that it's, like, a magic on-button, but it's not. There's a whole process."

"How do you know?" you ask genuinely.

His answering smile is wolfish. "I'm in a band, babe. Fucking a guitarist is like, a bucket list thing or some shit. Girls will tell you exactly what they want if you're willing to listen."

Something about his knowing look has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe two. He pushes his hand across the couch and you're not sure if it's on purpose or accident, only that he's leaning in, a small smile on his face.

"And I'm a damn good listener."

You meet his eyes and know what he's offering. He waits, ring heavy fingers splayed wide in the space between you. It's the sight of them – thick, long and adorned in string-wrought calluses – that tips you over the edge.

He's already pulling back with a reassuring smile on his face, lips parted to likely say something too nice when you interrupt him.

"Will you teach me?" you ask quietly.

A split-second of surprise is quickly overtaken by enthusiasm. "You're not high, are you?"

"No."

He gets up to close the door and starts for his room. You linger on the couch uselessly and he doubles back, hand on the wall. "Are you coming?"

The noise from the TV fades as you walk down the hall and into his room. Your socked foot nudges into a tower of books close to the door and you reach out to steady them. Eddie pulls the sheets back into place and flicks on the lamp. He pauses by the stereo before turning that on, too.

A song you don't recognise starts to play. Eddie climbs up onto his bed and stands there for a second, suddenly very tall. "You wanna take off your jacket?"

"It's a cardigan." You peel the thin white cotton off of your shoulders and shift from foot to foot, unsure of yourself.

Eddie settles on his knees, pulls off his rings. "It's pretty. Come here," he says, holding out his arms.

You slide onto the bed cautiously, naked calves rubbing against the sheets. You feel as though every sense has been dialled to eleven; you're thinking about every brush of fabric, every small sound that they make.

Eddie takes one of your hands and you sit with one leg crossed and the other hanging off the edge of the bed, surprised at his soft touch. He soothes your hand and brings it to his lap, eyes on your now-bared shoulders.

"You dress real pretty." He says it with his usual dramatics, though there's enough sincerity there to make you smile.

You look down at your delicate clothes thoughtfully. "You think so?"

"Mh-hm. It suits you," he says as he drums his thumbs against the back of your hand.

He pushes one palm up the length of your arm and pulls it towards him at the same time. You've never been touched like this before and you want it bad, shuffling towards him with a shameful speed. He takes it in stride, hand bumping up the hill of your shoulder. His index finger slides under the skinny strap of your top and tugs at it playfully.

"You look sweet. Really sweet," he says, his voice more hushed than before. His eyes drop to your thighs. "You'll have to take those off, though."

"My shirt too?" you ask weakly, eyebrows pinched up at the starts.

"Not if you don't want to." You hesitate. He takes your thigh into a big hand and gives you a small shake. "It's okay. Take your time. Or, if you changed your mind, that's totally cool."

"No, I haven't," you deny, voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. You kick your legs out in front of you one at a time and ease your shorts over the slopes of your thighs and calves, pushing them off of his bed with your feet.

“If you change your mind at any point-“

“I’ll tell you,” you say, nodding as you pull your knees together.

Eddie manoeuvres so he’s close, twisted toward you with his hand braced by your thigh. The cold metal of the charm bracelet you'd swapped him bites into your skin. If you leaned back and he leaned forward, he could kiss you. You think maybe he has the same idea as his eyes dart to your lips.

They linger.

He blinks and it’s gone.

“I’m gonna rub your leg,” he says quietly, “and when I get to the inside, I’m gonna touch you. Okay?”

As he says it, his hand moves onto your thigh. Down to your knee.

Slowly, so slowly, back up. His fingers caress the inside of your thigh. He pauses.

“‘Kay,” you whisper.

His fingers flex over your flesh as he draws in. Then, like a shock, his fingertips press to your underwear.

“I’m not surprised,” he says steadily, fingers brushing over your cunt, ghosting but never truly touching where you want him to.

“By what?”

“That you wear such cute panties.” He strokes the hem with the tip of his finger and you hold your breath as he slides it under the elastic, running the fabric over his digit gently. “S’exactly the kind of thing I pictured you wearing.”

“You’ve pictured them?”

He looks up from his teasing and your panties snap into place. You gasp on instinct and his eyes narrow, his lashes kissing in the corners. “Does that bother you?” he murmurs.

You shake your head. His lips quirk up, a smugness that makes your heart race ever faster.

"Do you do anything like this with yourself?" he asks.

"I'm never this nice."

"That's a crime," he says, and he laughs loud, momentarily shattering the distilled atmosphere that had settled over you both. "Thighs like these and you don't touch them?"

"Is that what you do?" you ask, insecure.

"No, but it's different. I don't need to get warmed up like you do."

"Warmed up?" you whisper. Having to ask these questions feels so embarrassing.

Eddie being so soft about it makes it easier. "Relaxed," he whispers in turn, laughing towards the end.

His thumb rubs the elastic of your underwear and drifts slowly inward until he's pushing over your folds. You gasp and it's slightly startled, sounding too close to panic for Eddie, who's hand flinches away.

"Didn't like that?" he asks.

You rush, "It's okay. Surprised."

One big hand holds your thigh, the other strokes your cunt. He's a little firmer now, pushing the breadth of his thumb over your panties until he touches something very sensitive. "Here?" He pushes up a little higher and your breath catches. He makes an almost inaudible cooing sound and flattens his hand, rubbing the length of your cunt without finesse. It feels good anyway. It surprises you how much you like it.

He pinches your panties.

"Ready to take them off?" he asks.

"Yeah."

You lift your hips and peel your underwear down, folding your legs to pull them off of your ankles. You clutch them in your hand, unsure.

Eddie sits back and pulls you towards him. You let him manhandle you with a small gasp, his hands pressing into the soft of your tummy. You can't see his face anymore.

"Alright," he murmurs, pulling your thigh over his lap and spreading you wide. His voice is loud in your ear because of his proximity, and you resist the temptation to turn your face to his.

"Let's just-" he works your underwear out of your hand and tosses them aside.

His hand lands on your knee and moves down fast.

You lean back heavily into his chest with your hands pulled to your sternum.

"Eddie," you say, "what do I do?"

He hums. "Touch yourself."

You seize up and he's quick to soothe, fingers closing around the crook of your elbow.

"Hey, I'm gonna show you. I'm gonna show you," he repeats. He pulls at the lip of your cunt and spreads you open, groaning softly. You wouldn't hear it if his lips weren't so close to your face. "How'd you have a cunt this sweet and never touch it? I mean, fuck."

His fingertips whisper past your pubic hair like he's going to say something more, but he only asks, "Hand?"

You put your hand into his, the back to his palm.

He sets it to your thigh. "Do what I did before, okay? Slowly…" He drags your hand up and down the length of your thigh.

Your heart is racing. Every time you crawl close to your cunt the burning longing to be touched, to touch yourself, and to have him touch you intensifies.

Eventually he pulls your hand to your clit. "You're so sensitive. Is it always this bad?" he asks sympathetically when you jump, tickled at the feelin.

"I haven't tried in a while."

"Oh, I see." Eddie encourages you to push your fingertip into the bead of your clit, drawing slow circles. "Poor baby. Just desperate to have someone take care of you." His voice is so low, so ridiculously soft, you find yourself sinking into his hold. He squeezes the crook of your elbow with one hand, the other still guiding your ministrations. You bite your lip at the sensation that's begun, the tiny spark of pleasure.

"Here, let me-" He lifts your hand away from your clit and you whine involuntarily. "Shh, sweetheart, I'm only gonna give you something to work with."

You turn your head to him and watch as his mouth opens. He sucks the very tip of your finger between his lips, the heat of his tongue a momentary flash. When he pulls it back, your finger shines with his spit.

Your eyes are half-lidded, watching through the crush of your lashes as he presses it back to your clit. "How's that? S'that better?" he asks, crooning. His tone sports an underlying mockery, a light-hearted teasing that's slowly turning intense.

It is better. It's different. Your fingertip searches for purchase against the slick skin and struggles to find it, the wetness allowing for freer, faster movement.

You push a second finger against the first.

Eddie stops helping. You pause, confused.

"No, you got it, sweetheart. You keep going," he reassures, grabbing a hold of your thigh again. He teases the dough there, never cruel but maybe close, fat moulding under his fingers as he squeezes.

Your breathing builds with pleasure. Still, it's hot enough; there's no sign of an oncoming climax, no tightening coil in your tummy. You huff with exertion and frustration. "Eddie, it's not working."

"I'm not done." He sounds almost stern. Your stomach flips. "You have to think about what you want."

"What I want?"

"What turns you on."

You think of his hands and their rings. His happy trail.

His voice. Good girl.

You slam your eyes shut.

Eddie gives you another mean squeeze. "What do you think about, when you-"

You don't let him finish. "What do you think about?" you ask, too loud.

He stills. His nose pushes into your shoulder, his hair tickling your skin as he asks, "Are you sure you wanna know?"

Your breath catches. Your fingers stutter where they work into your clit and Eddie starts you right back up again. His lips brush your shoulder.

"Yes," you say, gasping as pleasure like little shocks of heat shoot to your core.

The hand at your elbow starts to rove, tickling your arm as he strokes downwards. "You first," he murmurs, teasing your wrist. You swear you can feel his smile against your shoulder.

You breathe in through your nose. "Uh, I think of- of somebody…" You try, but you just can't say it.

Eddie's fingers push down your crease. Stop right before your entrance. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm…" He circles your entrance. "Now what does a pretty girl like you think of when she's touching herself?" You don't think he wants an answer. His middle finger brushes across the slick well and pushes in. You squirm and he holds you in place.

There's something very hard digging into your spine.

"Something sweet as you… Let me guess. Boy next door comes around to mow the lawn, you invite him in for a drink, one thing comes to another-" He pushes his finger in deeper. "And he's fucking you.

"That sound about right?"

You shake your head. His own perks up where it rests on your shoulder. "No? Huh."

Your circles have grown slow and staggered, distracted by his touch as he eases his ring finger in beside his middle. "Something more romantic? Wedding night, love of your life. Guy that's gonna treat you like a diamond. Way a girl like you deserves." He pushes in, stretches them out. You moan as he curls them, as his arm works back and forth. "Gives it to you gentle." His movements slow to match.

And sure, that sounds nice. But it's not what you think about.

"No," you manage to get out through shallow breaths.

"No? You don't want it gentle?"

"Not- not all the time."

"How about right now?"

"Please."

Slowly, slowly, the shape of Eddie's hard cock against your back starts to move in time with the thrusts of his hand. He pushes in deep, fingers searching emphatically for the sweet spot, the thing that's gonna make you-

"Fuck," you whimper.

His cock jumps. You feel it.

"You keep rubbing that pretty little clit of yours, sweetheart."

You do as he asks. You're desperate enough now that you imagine you'd do most anything he says, your climax a tangible, physical possibility. Your tummy feels heavy and aching with want, worse when he probes deeply and marks your sweet spot again. His lips press to your shoulder, soft enough that you worry you're imagining it.

"You see what I'm doing here? See what fingers I'm using?" he asks. You open your eyes reluctantly. His wrist turns. You watch his fingers sink into the gummy heat of your cunt. "Tight little hole's just pulling me in, fucking clinging to me, baby, she's greedy."

You gasp, a hiccup of scandalised sound.

"Want you to try, okay? You gonna do that for me?"

"Yeah, Eddie."

"Good girl." You moan, you don't mean to, but he's fucking into your quick and your finger pushes into your clit roughly. Eddie revels in it. "You like that? You like being called a good girl? I fucking knew it."

You frown and start to turn to him. He presses his cheek to your head so you can't, stuck looking down the length of the bed at your trembling legs.

"You looked so flustered, standing all sweet and quiet by the van out front with your thighs squeezed together. You think I didn't see that shit?"

You're limp against him, thighs spread wide as you work into your clit, chasing this new feeling. You can hardly breathe, every exhale a keening moan that has you shame-faced and weepy. You roll your hips to meet his fingers, his hand slapping against your cunt with a slick slap.

"You looked so sweet. Y'always do." He turns his lips to your ear and curls into you until your squealing. "Guess looks can be deceiving."

You're so close, so close. Tendrils of heat curl heavily at your core. "Eddie, I'm- I'm-"

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes," you pant.

He pulls his fingers from your cunt and you're so confused that you stop, your climax slipping away in seconds.

"Sorry, but you have to do it yourself. This is all pointless if you can't get there on your own," he says.

Your chest heaves. "That's mean. You're mean."

"I never claimed otherwise. Here, middle and marriage, babe." He guides your hand to your entrance. You push your fingers inside, your tongue between your lips in concentration. Your fingers aren't as thick as his, they don't feel quite the same, but Eddie pushes your thumb into your clit. "Move your wrist. Feel that? Feel how soft you are? How fucking warm you are?"

You're not nearly as good as he was but every clumsy touch feels electric. You push your thumb into sweeping circles and pant your frustration aloud, feeling close to tears.

"You wanna know what I think about, when I jerk off?" he asks unexpectedly.

You nod, your head moving back into his collar. He rubs the lengths of your arms leisurely, his lazy demeanour in total juxtaposition to your desperation.

"There's this girl that comes to see me," he starts, coloured by a smug amusement. "Sweet thing, soft-spoken, always wearing these pretty clothes looking like something straight out of the movies.

"I think about a lot of things. Her thighs-" One of his hands falls to your thigh in time, massaging, "fuck, just wanna bury my face in them and never come out. Pull down those cotton shorts she's so partial to with the dainty stitching and-" He laughs and his lips part over your shoulder. His teeth scratch up, up, up. "Make her fucking cry my name. Feel those thighs tense up around me."

You're so close your entire body shudders. You slow without meaning to, holding your breath in wait for Eddie to finish his story

He gives you one final push. "Always wondered if she sounds as pretty as she looks when she cums." He kisses the small graze he'd given you mere seconds ago and everything is blue-white with heat. "Gonna clue me in, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me?"

Your eyes close hard and you breathe out, an exhale ragged and weak and mewling. You don't moan so much as sob without tears, tensing up in Eddie's arms as bliss blooms. You pull your hand from your sopping cunt and feel your walls contract around nothing as you cum.

He pulls you close, throbbing cock pressing hard into your back. "Fuck," he hisses, hands placating where they lay.

You go lax, head tipping back as you suck in air that had felt elusive moments ago.

Eddie rubs your arms without saying anything. You cover his hands and try to summon up words.

"Just as pretty as you look," he murmurs.

He's so fuckng nice. So fucking nice, and what? He thinks about you when he jacks off? Since when?

You sit up and drop your chin to your chest, panting still.

"You okay?"

After a few seconds you smile and turn to him, intent on saying, Yes, thank you, and maybe something with more gratitude, something silly, just something. But you can't speak.

His face is close.

Eddie brings a hand to the slope of your rising shoulder, follows a line to the curve of your neck. You look to his eyes and find him staring at your lips unabashedly.

He pulls you into him. You close your eyes.

Eddie Munson tastes like lots of things as he kisses you.

Cigarettes, unavoidable. Under that, sugar. Something sweet but heavy as bourbon vanilla. Your lips part and close in tandem with his, slow and hungry. Your heart races and your fingers are still wet as you twist in his arms and take his face into your hands.

You climb up onto your knees and Eddie doesn't know what to do with you.

He smiles so hard he has to pull away. Not smirking, smiling, a cheek-aching, too-happy smile that softens everything in your chest.

You rub a shaking thumb over his cheek. You don't know if it's because of the post-orgasm rush of hormones or because he just kissed you and now he's smiling like he might do it again.

He does. He kisses you and grabs your waist. His fingers mess with the hem of your shirt and he breaks the kiss short to say, "Take it off?"

You sit back on your knees, feel the mess of wet between your legs spread as you grab at the edge of your shirt and pull it up. Eddie helps though he doesn't need to, and just like that you're shirtless.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening," he says, voice weak in what you suspect is one of his dramatics.

He slides his hands up your sides and stops just below your breasts. His thumbs grace the undersides and his brow puckers. "Fuck," he mouths appreciatively.

You flush head to toe. "Yours, too?" you ask gently.

Eddie reaches back to pull off his shirt. His hair's in total disarray and he runs his hands through it, biceps flexing with the movement, torso taut. The black ink of his tattoos move with him and your eyes eat up every single one.

He catches your eyes where they linger on the volley of bats. "You like that one?"

"I've always liked that one."

He grins and it's honey thick, hands at the small of your back and tugging. You spread your knees wide on impulse and find yourself flush to his chest, his arms locking you into place as he dives in for another kiss. Again you're surprised at how deeply he kisses you, how it ebbs and flows from slow to fast like he's both savouring and gorging himself on your closeness.

You've never been kissed like this. You're weightless. You feel every contiguity between you, the hot and wet of his mouth, the crook of his elbow against the nape of your neck, your nipples peaked against his chest and the length of his dick pushing up into your aching cunt.

"Fucking pretty," he says, pulling back just enough to kiss the corner of your mouth, your chin. He kisses your jaw over and over and over, lips pulling into crescents and then the same word. Pretty.

His mouth opens wide at your throat, teeth scratching lightly as it closes. He sucks your skin between his lips and rolls it, hand spreading wide and palm flat at your shoulder blade. Steadying. .

"That's cute," he says when he pulls away, lips shining.

"What?" you ask, hand drifting up. You poke at the quick-forming contusion.

He nudges it aside with his face as he moves in to further mark up your neck. "You're so fucking pretty," he says, each word separated by a nipping kiss.

His hands are everywhere.

Everything is warm and you can't breathe. You plant your hands at his shoulders and push away from him, and he stops you from falling flat on your back, levelling you with a worried glance.

"Is it too much?" he asks.

"No, I'm just hot. Really hot." You take a big breath and wipe your face with the back of both hands.

"That's true," he says, leaning back against the wall. His hands fall to your thighs. "Are you okay?"

You drop your hands abruptly and can't believe the fondness you're feeling. "You're pretty, too," you tell him. Honest if very shy; meek, entirely sincere. "I'm okay. I want…"

"You want?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I have this fantasy," you begin.

Eddie widens your legs to move from under them. It doesn't surprise you when he comes to lie on your chest, holding his weight off of you with an arm at the side of your ribs. His hair falls and hides the room from view. All you can see is his face, and it's beautiful.

"Tell me about it."

"It's- okay. It's…" You drift off as he dips down to kiss your collar, only chaste pecks but enough to distract you. "It's kind of like this."

"Yeah?" His breath warms your chest. More ditzy kisses.

"I get here and you're coming out of the shower-"

"Tasteful."

"With a towel low on your hips," you add pointedly. It's useless, his sarcasm has pinned you spot on. "And you- you touch me."

Eddie kitten licks the skin he's just nibbled and looks up. "Like this?"

"Like this."

"And after that," his hand moves between you to the zipper of his jeans, the sound of metal clicking metal ringing through the room, "what do I do?"

"You push me down into the bed, and-" You feel the fabric of his jeans rub your thighs as he pulls them down. "You…"

"What do I do, sweetheart?"

"You push my legs up and you fuck me," you confess.

He scrambles back towards his nightstand, a hand on your ankle that says, I'm not going far. "How do I fuck you? Am I rough?"

"Not at first."

There, in his hands, the red plastic of a condom wrapper, bright as a maraschino cherry. He holds it up and you nod.

"Not at first," he murmurs, ripping open the condom, hissing as he pulls it over his weeping cock. It's big – not too thick, but big, surrounded by a thatch of dark curls trimmed neat. "But eventually?"

He rolls it on tight and then there's nothing but this admission of your guiltiest fantasy. You spread your legs without thinking and he pulls you towards him, thumb collecting slick where it's pooled and pushing it up towards your entrance. What's left on his fingers he smears over the length of his shaft. You watch him rub at the head and sigh.

"Eventually," you agree.

His cock rubs up against you as he leans down and pinches your chin between his fingers, lips parted from a sharp gasp and opening further. "Can I fuck you? Is that what you want?"

You nod voraciously.

He gives you a very firm kiss at the highest point of your cheek. "In words."

"Yes, you can fuck me. That's what I want," you say without hesitation.

"You tell me if I do something you don't like," he says, lining up.

"I will," you say earnestly.

Eddie pushes your leg up towards your tummy and holds it there. "Good girl," he praises, and pushes in.

You're already worked open by his hand, your own hand and your climax, and still it's a snug fit. You cross your arm over your chest with your lips bitten hard to stop from making what you anticipate to be a very great and mortifying sound. He takes it slow, real slow, towering over you with his brows furrowed just slightly and his back arching. Every move he makes is accompanied by a careful thrust of his hips. He's rhythm in motion.

"Fuck," he mutters, more than once. He's halfway when you feel that stretch, your pulpy walls accommodating him with little complaint and a lot of pleasure.

You drop your head back against the bed sheets and hug yourself.

Eddie reaches for your hand where its cracking your breast absentmindedly and squeezes your fingers. "How's that?" he asks. "How's that feel?"

You close your eyes. "S'good, Eddie." You lay out your own roll of expletives as he pushes in ever deeper. "You're really- oh," you gasp, "really deep."

"You should see it, babe, pretty pussy gripping my every fucking inch." He leans down and his cock fills another inch of you. Your fingers ache with how hard he's squeezing them, and you look up to find his eyes on yours. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? You gonna be a good girl for me and take it?"

You blink and your lashes feel heavy with tears. "Yeah. I can take it. I can take it."

"I know," he says, hovering over you, close enough to hug if you wanted to.

He grabs your side and his thumb pushes into the soft swell of your breast, his grip tightening as he fits those last inches of his cock inside you. You rub your cheek against his bedsheets, your head fuzzy from being so full. He takes your bared neck as an opportunity and ducks into the juncture of it and his face fits there like it was made to, his nose bobbing against the column of your throat as he starts to fuck into you. His hips roll, a mess of his sticky pubes kissing your clit.

This close you can smell him, the heavy scents of pot and smoke, the sweet nutty smell of oil clinging to his hair. Sweat, as you imagine you smell of too, and sex. The room is filled with it, the smells and the sounds of his thighs thudding into yours.

"Eddie- Eddie," you whimper, muffled by the sheets beneath you.

He pushes in deep and rubs his nose into your skin emphatically. "What's wrong, hm? What's got you all wound up?"

You wrap your arms around his back. You're not sure if you're allowed to but you're hardly thinking ahead – you can't. Every thrust, every movement he makes is at the forefront of your mind, commanding all of your attention. The tickling of his hair against the side of your face. The skipping of the chains of his necklace where it teases your neck.

"Babe?" he asks, pulling back to turn your head. He stills inside you.

You protest, loud and completely unlike yourself. "Eddie, don't stop. Please don't." Your hands push into his shoulder blades. He ruts in at your request, thumb rubbing your cheek. "Feels so good," you say. You trip over your praise, voice breaking.

He starts up again, whispering, "Do you want me to hold your leg up, pretty girl?" and, "Taking me so well- taking it so fucking well," and, worse, "Fuck, sweetheart, just like that," when you tigthen around him.

You weave your fingers into the messy crush of black curls surrounding his face, careful not to tug as you covet the back of his head and nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly with one hand as the other strokes his side.

Your moans become a half-sobbing sort of mess, quiet and desperate, drawn out of you with every tap of his cock into your soft spot. When he finds it he can't not search for it, rutting into it over and over until you can't produce anything but an unintelligible stream of babble and happy sighs.

He laps lazily at your neck, the stretch of skin dampened and stinging from love bites. He thrusts in hard and hits something sweet that has you clinging to him.

"You smell good," he says into your skin.

Your hips ache with pleasure. "I must taste pretty good," you say. What, with how he's willing to nibble on you like this.

He squeezes your neck and narrows his eyes at you playfully. "I intend to find out." He moves down until your lips are a hair's width from touching. "Bet you taste as sweet as everything else."

You lift your chin and kiss him, dedicating your affections to his top lip. He groans into your mouth, hips moving slow and thrusts shallow when suddenly they're not. His cock drags out slowly and slams in deep, his pelvis hitting into yours.

You keen into the kiss, gentle and at odds with his fucking. His fingers find your ear and his thumb follows down the shell until he's pinching your earlobe, a split-second touch that melts you into putty. He pulls away from the kiss and inhales loudly, his fingers under your ear and pushing your face to the side so that he can wade in from a new angle.

You curl your fingers around his wrist and let yourself be kissed and fucked and touched. Anything he wants to do, he can do.

Eddie breaks the kiss.

"What did I taste like?" you ask breathlessly.

He traces an invisible teardrop down your cheek with the back of his pinky finger. "Oh, sweetheart," he says quietly, lowering his lips to the shell of your ear. "That's not where I meant."

Another hard thrust. You gasp at the dull aching spreading through your tummy and Eddie softens slightly, not so deep but just as fast, faster, his cheek to your cheek as he works you open. His rugged panting in your ear is everything you need. You force your hand between your body and Eddie's and search for the wet mess of your clit, chasing quick circles into the swollen bump.

Eddie realises what's happening and his fucking turns desperate. "You gonna cum again? Shit- keep touching, I'll get you there, fucking promise you." He's hardly pulling out an inch before he's rutting back in, kicking up the speed until all you can feel is pleasure again.

Eddie slows down as you cum, moaning as you tighten around him. He pushes away from you to kneel between your legs again, eyes locking onto your cunt obstinately, his panting loud as he drags his cock in and out.

"Insane," he mumbles, hands coasting down your legs until he's grasping the fat of your thighs and pulling you back onto his cock. "You're insane."

As if proving it, his hands rove the hills and troughs of your torso, your skin clammy underhand, his hips moving mindlessly. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and blink back into focus.

"Are you close?" you ask him, whispering.

You're lucky he can hear you with the music he's playing and the sounds of your slick hole being stretched. Eddie tucks a lock of sweat-dark hair behind his ear and his eyes pause in their reverential searching to meet yours.

He peels your hand off of your mouth and holds it.

"Fucking teetering, babe. Been close ever since I felt you wrapped around my fingers." He pulls your hand and you take it as a cue to try and sit up. Eddie helps you into his lap, your thighs straddling his thighs, slipping down his length until you're stuffed to bursting.

You hide your face in his shoulder and he rubs your back. "You're okay," he says sympathetically, "I got you. You just sit pretty, there's a good girl."

You wrap your arms around his neck and try your best to bounce on his cock as he thrust up into you, a steady pace that turns sloppy. You rake your hands through his curls and kiss at the curve of his neck down to the slope of his shoulder, dizzied and cock-drunk, totally fucked out. You hum into your kisses with every prodding of his mushroom tip against your deepest spot, rambling nonsense at him in a way you hope is making a difference.

"Fucking me so good," you mumble, equal parts tearful and euphoric, lips wet and spreading a shine like frost in the sun over his lean shoulder. "So good, Eddie. Thought about this too much."

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding like a different person. Voice rough as hewn stone and hands bruising where they grip you, his heavy sack slapping into you with every sluggish rock of his hips. "Good as you pictured? M'I fucking you like you wanted?"

"Better," you say sincerely.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he says, and he's close, you know he is.

You roll your pelvis in circles and try your hardest, aflame as you plead, "Cum for me, please? Please, Eddie, wanna feel it."

Despite your shy intonation Eddie goes rigid. He fucks in with one final thrust that sends shocks deep to your core and spreading out, cutting your happy little gasp short as he pulls your head tight to his neck. His hips twitch underneath you and he's making sounds that are going to haunt you, whiney, begging moans over your head.

Eddie's tight hold on you slowly loosens. You're breathing fast, finally out of motion. Your thighs burn where they're spread over his lap and you squirm unintentionally.

He pulls your neck back from his shoulder and looks over your face, concern lining the soft set of his eyes. He cups your cheek in question.

"I'm okay," you say softly. "I'm more than okay. That was amazing."

"It was amazing," he agrees, caught off guard.

"Yeah."

You shift backwards and the two of you wince at the sensitivity. You ease your legs open and Eddie pulls out, pumping the sticky shaft once. His eyes flutter closed.

You move off of his lap and turn to the side so you can stretch out your aching legs. Eddie follows suit, collapsing off of his knees and onto his back, the pillow behind him keeping him propped up.

You watch him ease the condom off of his cock curiously, White cum has smeared and drips down the length of him, his pubes tangled by a mixture of your slick and his.

He spots you watching and smiles. "What, sweetness? What are you thinking about?"

"I made you cum."

His eyebrows jump but quickly smooth. "I think I went blind, for a second."

You giggle at his hyperbole and he pulls you down against his chest, your side pressing into his navel. Your cheek to the space shy of his heart.

His hand comes to rest on your forehead.

"Do you really think about me?" you ask, knowing the answer.

"Every night."

You close your eyes and hide your smile in his skin. He chuckles and wraps you up in one arm, his hand a firm pressure as he massage the dipped plane of your back.

Nestling your cheek into his chest, you say, "I think about it, too. All the time."

"Uh-huh. Maybe we can make some more of those racy thoughts a reality. What was that one about me coming out of the shower?"

You like this casual conversation and decide to try and make him laugh, stretching your words out low. "Well, you're coming out of the shower, and your towel slips open-" There, his bumping laughter at your over the top salaciousness.

"That's awful. Most cliche, overdone, cheap porno concept ever," he chastens.

"I never said I was creative."

"What happens after that?"

"The towel gets swept away by a sudden gust of wind, so I have to cover you. With my body."

He bursts. There's no other word to describe it, his back arches with the force of his laughter and he holds his fist to his mouth, shaking and giggling like an idiot.

"Where's the wind coming from?" he questions incredulously.

"I don't know! The window?"

"Oh my god," he says. He hooks his hand under your arm and pulls you up his chest, dotting a fond kiss to your forehead as you near. "And after that?"

"Well, I told you that part."

"Right, we hook up, but after that."

You clench your fists, insecure. "After?"

He brings the hand that isn't loving the length of your back to your face, stroking the skin under your chin with the backs of his index and middle finger, the flat of his fingernails sliding gently in a soothing back and forth.

"I guess it's kind of like this," you answer eventually.

"Does fantasy Eddie get another kiss, too? Or does he- do they stop, afterwards?"

"It's a fantasy. The kisses never stop," you tell him. Adrenaline must linger in your veins; you can barely speak.

His expression becomes impassive, and a lull in the conversation blossoms. He searches your face for something and you don't know what, but he must find it, because he dips down and kisses you chaste on the lips.

Your hands are back to tentative as they explore his neck. Your fingertips grace the curves of his throat and then sink behind, into the dampened mess of his hair.

He stays chaste, dainty kisses, pulling back to dot them against your lips over and over.

"Eddie," you say softly, "what are you doing?"

"It feels like kissing," he says, tone a mirror of your own.

You huff a laugh against his lips and kiss back.

Later, after more kisses than you could ever count and an hour dozing on his chest whilst his hand rubbed circles into your tired back, you get dressed into your clothes that he likes so much and slip your goodie bag into the belly of your strappy purse.

"Don't go over the top with it, alright?" he says, watching the green bud dissappear.

Jeans back in place and still bare-chested, Eddie sits on the end of his bed and scratches the back of his neck. You give him a grateful smile. "No, I won't. I actually think I might sleep really well tonight without it."

He smirks. "I bet you will."

Eddie walks with you to the front porch. You'd linger if you didn't have to go, and you're pretty sure he'd let you. There's a fraction of awkward silence.

"See you later," you say, walking sideways down one step, another.

Eddie catches your hand. It takes you a second to realise what he's done: forced your crumpled thirty dollars back into your hand. Your heart misses a beat and you feel your stomach plumet – you hadn't fucked him for the free pot.

"Eddie-"

"My girl can't pay for her own supply. That's not happening."

You take one step up. "Your girl?"

He has the good graces to look nervous. "If you wanna be."

You don't know how to answer. He looks pretty like this in the last dregs of sunshine, big brown eyes waiting patiently for you to say something, hand clutching his elbow. It doesn't feel entirely real.

You step on tip toes and work your hands behind his neck to kiss his cheek before rubbing your forehead against his chin. "I'll come by tomorrow?" you ask hopefully. He relaxes under your weight.

"Any time you want. I'll take you some place nice, if you're up for it."

You set back on your heels and pull away. "You don't need to go all fancy on me, Munson." You're happy to get stoned and eat burgers on the couch.

He looks you up and down, eyes catching on the flanks of your thighs before he takes in your face. His smile is almost dorky when he says, "No I- I think I do. I'll see you tomorrow, pretty girl."

You nod with an aching smile and are a little ways away when he smugly calls, "Sleep well!"

After the lesson he just gave you, you're sure you will.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist

please reblog if you enjoyed, I promise it makes a big difference! ♡

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine

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rainbowhao · 2 months

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i can't take my eyes off of you ♡ beomgyu

genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 1.4k

inspired by the song "cherry bomb" by julianna joy! please listen to it because it matches the vibe so well. and i guess this could be considered an early birthday fic :)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

you’re so patient. beomgyu’s a menace and you’re so patient that it has him falling for you even more than he thought possible—putting up with his antics every day of the week and always allowing him to voice all the dumb and borderline insane ideas he has to you.

like now. gyu’s been ranting to you for the past hour all while inside the safety of your carefully-crafted pillow fort. snacks, plushies, fairy lights, even a speaker for music—it has everything you could need on a night like this. it’s far too easy for your best friend to slip in beside you and let out everything on his mind. even what's better left unsaid.

“you go out with soobin yet?” he can’t help but frown at the name as it leaves his lips. he lies on his back, arms behind his head and decked out in his comfiest pajamas. he’d heard all about the unexpected run-in with your former high school crush and had been unable to think about anything else all week.

“mhmm,” is all you say. this has beomgyu turning toward you immediately. he can’t stand when you act vague. how are you so calm and unbothered while he's dying inside?

“you did?” he leans in a little as if you’d then be prompted to respond. “well? how did it go?”

you want to smile at how eager he looks, waiting for you to give him any little bit of information on what went down.

“it was nice. we just met for lunch and caught up.” you shrug, gaze returning to the blanket currently acting as the ceiling to your fort.

beomgyu huffs. “i knew it. he likes you.” he shuffles around before crossing his arms across his chest. “so what? are you going to date now or something?” he asks cooly, as if it wasn’t the worst possible thing he could imagine.

“gyu, seriously.” you chuckle. “i haven’t seen him in years. it was friendly—nothing more.” your best friend had a gift—the gift of jumping to conclusions. you know he’s silently pouting right now. he'd always been like this—grumpy whenever you mentioned hanging out with anyone other than him.

beomgyu wasn’t a possessive guy. at least when it came to everything else in his life. but you were different. was it so bad he wanted you to himself? he knew you better than anyone, could treat you right in ways you’d never imagine. so what if soobin was taller, better looking, the textbook definition of mr. right?

he didn’t get you like beomgyu did.

“you look pretty right now,” gyu tells you quietly. he doesn’t care if you’ll scold him for it—it’s true. beneath the glowing lights, your soul exposed to him in such an intimate way that only this space could bring, you’re stunning.

“what?” you’re flushing. “you’re delirious. go to sleep.” you shove a pillow his way but he just blocks it. he’s giving you those puppy-like eyes, hair hanging in his face; it’s gotten longer than it ever has. “you planning on getting a haircut?” you can’t help but reach out and run your fingers through the strands. maybe it's you who’s delirious.

his eyes flutter closed at your gentle touches. “should i?” his lips barely even move.

“I like it a lot,” you tell him honestly. “suits you.”

“oh?” his mouth curls into a smirk “then i’ll definitely keep it long.”

you enjoy moments like these, when beomgyu’s mellow and tender-hearted. you didn’t mind the craziness, sure, but it was rare to see him in such a raw and exposed state. no games, no antics, just gyu—the boy you had inevitably fallen for.

you find yourself getting lost in his eyes when they open once more. he’s looking at you so softly you can’t seem to turn away. the twinkling lights cast a soft glow on his face, making his lips look even more pink than usual. you can feel your heartbeat quickening with each passing moment.

“am i that beautiful?” beomgyu jokes. he dramatically blinks to show off his long eyelashes. your throat’s gone dry.

“you are beautiful, gyu,” you murmur. you don’t even realize you’ve begun stroking the side of his cheek until his hand grabs yours, forcing your fingers to come to an immediate halt.

“so you admit it.” beomgyu cups the back of your hand. “you adore me, don’t you?” he giggles to himself. “i’ll remember this moment forever now—the day you finally confessed my beauty out loud.”

“ridiculous.” you scoff and yank back your hand. “you always know how to ruin things.”

“what things?” beomgyu prompts. and when you try to turn onto your back, he just peers over you, arms coming on either side of your torso. beomgyu doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. he doesn’t want to; he likes being near you. “are you mad now?” he hums, face becoming increasingly closer to your own.

“no,” you say blankly.

“are you embarrassed?” he teases. “you are, aren’t you? my cute baby’s all flustered.” beomgyu finds the situation all too amusing.

“i—i am not! and who says something like that?” you’re flaming hot beneath him, suddenly feeling very trapped.

“don’t go out with soobin,” he says suddenly. “he likes you. i know he does.” his exhale’s shaky, forearms nearly wobbling as he holds himself up. “how could he not?” he whispers the last part.

“why are you so obsessed with this?” you study him. even though he hadn’t said anything in the previous days, you knew he’d been stressing about it. beomgyu was like an open book to you. but sometimes there were things about him you didn’t understand. why was he so upset over the idea of you dating someone?

“i don’t want you to be anyone else’s but mine.” beomgyu confesses. his nose finds its way to the crook of your neck, nudging at the warm skin before he dares let his lips press against you. he kisses you so briefly, so lightly that you almost think you’d imagined it. but then he’s leaving more in a trail down your neck, whispering tiny little pleas in between. “please…let me show you.”

“show me what?” the tiny space is so incredibly warm now. “gyu, w—what are you doing?” you’d never known him to be so forward. his sudden confidence had your head spinning.

he pulls back a little to look at you. “i want you to know how much you mean to me.” beomgyu couldn’t help himself; the hazy lighting and late-night fatigue had him thinking unspeakable things about his best friend and truthfully, he’d never wanted something so badly as he wanted you in this very moment. “can i baby?”

there he goes with that name again.

“okay,” you whisper. “how?”

“first,” he says lowly, “i’m going to kiss you.” with enough of his weight on you, he’s able to bring one hand up to your face. “right here.” the tip of his finger traces your bottom lip. “and then i’m going to tell you just how crazy you make me. or maybe you already know that.” he smiles. “as for soobin...tell him to get in line."

#beomgyu #tomorrow x together #txt #choi beomgyu #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt beomgyu #txt fluff #beomgyu x reader #txt fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #txt fics #beomgyu fics #kpop imagines #txt drabbles #beomgyu fic

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504py · 22 days

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In Ink, Unsaid - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

Your knight is appointed to tutor you, and he falls asleep during your lesson. It leads to a cute interaction involving his hair.

hell yeah finally got this out!! this one's a lot longer than the first part, i pray it ain't too wordy LOL. once again art by me and hope y'all enjoy!!

Historical inaccuracies, I suck at old-timey speak, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, mutual pining, almost a Leon character study. It's a little more romantic this time.

1, 2

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You don't think you've ever seen Leon make a mistake. It unsettles you a little, how much composure and perfection he seems to uphold. You tend to watch him a lot because of it, growing a strange compulsion to always have your eyes on him.

Whenever you see him through a window while passing by, the sight of him slows you down a bit before you continue on your way. Whenever he walks past the room you're in, your eyes dart to his figure on impulse, trying to take in as much information as you can before he's out of your sight. Leon walks too fast, you find yourself thinking a lot.

Paradoxically, when you're close enough to actually see his face, you find yourself unable to look at him. You try to, but he's already staring at you, and he never looks away first, so you do. Whenever you look at him, his eyebrows raise slightly, like he thinks you want something from him when you do. The pressure from it is surprisingly crushing, so you simply cannot imagine holding eye contact with Leon for more than two seconds.

This strange fascination of yours with your new knight has materialized itself in the form of behaviors that might align themselves with a stalker's. You've drunken in all the little details about him. You recognize the sound of his footsteps, the dent in his left vambrace, since he tends to guard his body with that arm, and the moles on his knuckles. Since you can't look at his face when he's actually near you, you've taken to staring at his hands or his feet. He rarely ever shifts his weight between each leg, even if he's been standing for a long time. It makes you more conscious of how you carry yourself... Speaking of posture, he tends to tilt his head to the right slightly when he rests.

Rest and any of its synonyms are words you'd rarely use to describe anything related to Leon. The most you'd seen him do something as relaxed as resting, was that night he sat by your bed till the thunderstorm passed.

So how do you know his habits when he rests? Shockingly, he's doing it right now, in front of you, during your first tutoring session together.

His eyes were rather bloodshot and dull when he entered the library, a feigned intensity in them like he was trying to convince himself he wasn't tired. He knows you notice, but you don't ask about it, and he seems to be glad you did.

"...This arrangement is rather unorthodox, is it not?" You ask as he sits down across from you.

Leon puffs out a little breath, not enough to be a sigh, but noticeable enough. You are unsure if it is out of annoyance.

"I suppose so, my lady, but your mother was the one who appointed me to tutor you today."

You frown a little. It's not like you disliked Leon at all, but you tend to find him a little too... tense to be around. He seems so structured and confident and it makes you afraid to make mistakes around him... Besides that, he's got a really intense stare that doesn't fare well with your nervous composition.

"...Do you dislike having me as your tutor, my lady?" He queries, the faintest hint of doubt and dejection in his voice.

"I–" You try to start, but he cuts you off, "It's not meant to be taken in any personal manner, my lady, but..." He takes in a sharp inhale, realizing he interrupted you and maybe stepped over a line. Leon pauses and watches you carefully, waiting to see if your expression will contort or if you'll start to reprimand him.

...You just avert your eyes, so he continues.

"Perhaps you'd fare better with someone you were more comfortable with... my lady."

You bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm rather alright, Sir Leon. I apologize for complaining."

"Forgive me for pushing, my lady, but you always feel rather tense around me. Is that for any particular reason? Perhaps I could help."

"I, uh..." Your gaze falls to your lap, "I'm just not sure why mother chose you. Your schedule is rather full as it is, is it not, Sir Leon?"

"Well, I can promise you I'm very well-educated, my lady." He says, but as he observes, it doesn't do much to soothe your nerves.

"...Spending more time with you is always a pleasure to me, my lady. I promise that to you too."

That wrinkle between your eyebrows soften, and your shoulders drop.

Leon does surprisingly well as a tutor. You suppose it's because of his rugged impression that you thought the opposite, but even the way he speaks is well-constructed and seems to have been planned in advance.

If your mother had never appointed Leon as your tutor today, you'd never have really noticed how calming his voice can be. Whenever he's spoken, it always sounded like a command, even if he's trying his best to be respectful. His voice usually comes off too strong, too deep in his chest, too loud sometimes, too much authority. Usually you tend to shrink in your skin a little whenever he speaks, but now, he sounds so relaxed that you feel like he could lull you to sleep at any moment.

Ah– it seems he's beat you to the chase, though.

It took you a little too long to notice, but Leon has fallen asleep in front of you, cheek resting against his right fist and his left hand still resting on the book's page.

You freeze up, not wanting to do anything that'd wake him up. You understand that a tutor falling asleep in front of a student would be highly inappropriate, but you still felt that it would be rude to wake him. Is he a light sleeper? You wonder how exhausted he must be to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable situation, and it makes your heart ache.

He's breathing lightly, you wait a bit, see if he'll wake up on his own. Maybe it's just your own excuse to watch him while you can.

His eyelashes are a lot longer than you thought, and you don't think you've ever seen him without that crease between his brows, and an almost-scowl on his lips. Leon's hair was of a color and style that confused you. Some days it felt brown, sometimes it was blond, or something in between. You've convinced yourself it depended on his mood or the weather. As for the length... the fringe always seemed to obscure his eyes slightly, so you've always wondered why he didn't just cut it. Especially when he wears his helmet, and he makes a bit of a fuss when his bangs get pinned underneath his visor.

Unconsciously, you've been reaching forward to brush away the strand of hair hanging in front of his nose, hoping to get a better look of his face.

Leon's eyes flutter open, his pupils adjusting to the light before they dilate as they settle on you. Your arm flinches back to your side.

He mumbles your name, intimately, no honorifics or titles, and your face warms.

"I– Leon– Sir Leon, hello," You breathe out shakily, "You fell asleep."

The message takes a few seconds to reach his just-woken-up brain, before his eyes widen and he immediately sits up properly.

Words come spilling out of his mouth, this is the first time you've seen him stutter. "I'm so sorry– I'm incredibly sorry, my lady, I apologize for my inappropriate behavior, I don't know why I dared to do such a thing, and why I keep making mistakes today–"

"Leon."

He bites on his tongue and his eyes are slightly wide as he stares at you.

"...It's alright, I promise."

The tips of his ears are a bright red, and that same flush seems to be creeping up from under his shirt collar to his neck. He takes in a few deep breaths, and he looks unsure. This is the second time you've seen him wear this look now. He takes in a deep breath.

"I... I apologize, my lady." He bows his head towards you. The roots of his hair were a deeper brown compared to the rest of his locks. You wonder if he's not even a real blond. Perhaps hours of staying under the sun lightened his hair.

You space out staring at him, and Leon straightens his neck. He can't recall maintaining eye contact with you for this long, and it makes his abdomen feel warm, even if he knows you're not really all there.

"My lady?"

You finally blink, and at the realization your blank-eyed gaze settled on him, your eyes widen and you immediately look elsewhere. You decide to rest your sight on his hands.

"Is there something wrong with my hair?" His fingers twitch, slightly restless.

"I... What makes you say that, Sir Leon?"

"You've been eyeing the top of my head for a while. I felt your hand near my face while I was waking up, as well, my lady."

Your heart skips a beat, and the way your blink catches for a second and the way you seem to choke on your spit isn't missed by the knight-now-tutor across from you.

"I-It's quite alright, my lady." He rushes out, his heart dropping at that look on your face. He's not even sure what's "alright", but he just wanted to offer you any bit of comfort so things don't escalate, in the fear he was too forward with confronting you.

He remembers the musings of his fellow knights about his hair, about how could he see with all that bother, how it could get in the way during combat, or how it just looked a little funny. Truth be told, his hair was the result of continuously forgetting to go get a haircut because he fixated so much on work, but now he keeps it out of spite. Leon insists he can do perfectly fine to anyone who says otherwise, but if it's you...

Leon breathes in slightly, and his hands move away from your line of vision. You follow them, and he's pushing his fringe back as much as he can. He's trying to tuck it behind his ears, and it almost makes you laugh, how gentle the gesture is, then you realize how beautiful he actually looks. Your cheeks warm, and you cannot look away.

"Is this better, my lady?" He asks, strangely demure in his demeanor.

You chuckle, and his heart soars at the noise, "You missed a spot." you comment, before your hand raises for a second, nearing his face.

"Ah– May I?"

"Of course, my lady." The devotion leaking from his voice is punctuated by the mole on his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

Your fingers are slightly shaky as they clear the few strands of hair he couldn't pin back. The pads of your fingers graze his forehead, and he takes in a sharp breath. Physical contact between you two was relegated to holding onto his hand when he assisted you, and nothing more, so he wasn't a stranger to it. So he can't really understand why such a tiny act has such an effect on him.

You sit back, properly look at him, and smile. He feels slightly shy under your scrutiny, but he hopes you find him good-looking at the very least. He does have the face to pull off shorter hair, but something about it felt like you were seeing him naked. He felt under-decorated without his fussy hair.

"Mm... I think you look best just as you are."

Leon breathes out a little laugh accompanied by the toothiest smile you've seen on him thus far, which really isn't much, but it comes off just as endearing. The bags under his eyes seem to disappear as his eyes turn into happy crescents. Adoration is dancing around in his pale blue irises, and in the reflection of his dilated pupils, it's only you.

"Thank you, my lady... It makes me happy to hear that."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 month

Text

Talk dirty to me

PAIRING | Iron Man!Tony Stark x Journalist!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 5K

SUMMARY | You have been asked to interview and shadow Tony for a few months regarding his research in nanotechnology and his life as Iron Man. During this time, the sexual tension builds quickly between you two, and when you can't stop staring at him while he's working, the tension snaps, and you learn about a new kink you never knew you had.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Age gap, mutual pining, slight insecurities.

SMUT | Porn with plot, use of traffic light system, lots of dirty talk, praise kink, sir kink, size kink, hair pulling, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), squirting, cream pie, aftercare

A/N | This one-shot is written based on a request I received from a lovely Anon! From the moment this appeared in my asks, I could not stop thinking about it, and @ccbsrmsf1 and I have been drooling about this since that moment. So dear Anon, if you wish to reveal yourself (if not, I totally understand that too!) I'd love for you to send me a DM so I can thank you personally for your amazing ideas! 🩷

A/N 2.0 | This is proofread by my best friend and biggest supporter on this website, @ccbsrmsf1. I wouldn't be here without you today, and I cannot thank you enough! I love you 3000 🩷

EVENTS Masterlist | @anyfandomfluffbingo | Journalist!Reader Masterlist | @multifandom-flash | Grow Old With Me

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist

The past three months have been interesting, to say the least. From being asked to interview none other than Iron Man himself about his research on nanotechnology to shadowing him for five months, it is a rollercoaster you never expected to get onto. Still, you do not want to get off because it's too much fun.

But that's not all because, during these months, you and Tony have also been building on the sexual tension that is palpable between the two of you. From semi-innocent flirting to not-so-innocent grinding on the dancefloor after a few drinks, it has all passed the revue, and it is like a rubber band that is about to snap. One more move, and it will snap, leaving both of you to lust after the other like never before.

Today, you're just observing Tony as he's working on his research, which would have been simple enough if it weren't for the fact that he's wearing a skintight shirt that exposes his broad shoulders, muscly, veiny, bulging biceps and forearms. His large, strong hands with long, skilled fingers have been the subject of your wet dreams. Your lip is pulled between your teeth as you look at him.

The shirt is pulled tight over his chest and abdomen, allowing you to drink in every inch of his muscles, which leads you to his narrow waist and thick legs covered in dark jeans that seem to hug his thick bulge and round butt perfectly, making you squeeze your legs together at the sight.

"Are you enjoying yourself over there, Sweets?" Tony asks with a quirked brow, and your eyes snap up to his as a flush appears on your cheeks at the fact you've been caught. You nod shyly, and a mischievous grin dances on Tony's lips as he walks over to where you're sitting on a table, which is the perfect spot to observe what he is doing.

"Did you like what you just saw? I'm sure you did because you've been clenching these delicious thighs and biting that perfect lip the entire time, huh? Don't think I haven't noticed it, Sweets; I can smell your arousal on the other side of the lab," he tells you in a low, rumbling voice that sends shivers down your spine.

"Y-yes, sir," you stammer out, the red color on your cheeks deepening when he stands before you. He moves forward as he places his hands on the table on either side of you, and you can't help but tremble as he's mere inches away from your face.

You accidentally knock something off the table as you shift your body a little to be more comfortable, and the heat on your cheeks now spreads from the tips of your ears down your chest as the embarrassment takes over completely. However, before you can think about it too much, Tony has cupped your face in his large hand, feeling the warmth radiating onto his long, calloused fingers.

"It's okay, Sweets. Nothing to be embarrassed about," he whispers before leaning forward, his lips kissing softly on the corner of your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of the softness of his lips on your face, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.

"A-are you sure?" you ask, and he nods.

"I'm sure. Whatever it is that you broke is nothing that I cannot replace; otherwise, it wouldn't be lying out here on the table," he says, and you can feel yourself already becoming calmer, the tension you were feeling earlier slowly replacing with need at the close proximity between you two.

Tony's hand drops down from your face to your bare thigh as he trails the tips of his fingers to the edge of your skirt, teasing you a little as a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"You're perfect like this," he whispers in your ear, and you can't suppress the soft moan escaping your lips as he says those words. You have always enjoyed receiving praise, but hearing it from Tony does something to you that you have never considered. It only arouses you further.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice your skirt, Sweets? It barely covers your ass, so it's no wonder I could tell that you want me. You do want me, don't you?" Tony whispers between the kisses from your jaw to your throat until he reaches the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

You moan out a soft yes, and a small smile tugs at the corners of Tony's lips. Hearing that you want him just as much as he wants you has him twitching in his pants. He dares to move his fingers beneath the hem of your skirt. Just far enough to have a little taste of the skin hidden by the denim fabric, yet not enough to give you what you desperately want.

"Good girl," Tony tells you as you spread your thighs slightly, giving him the access you know he's been asking for without actually saying it. The flush on your cheeks returns as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hide the fact that his praise is making your stomach flip and your skin feel like it's on fire.

Your breath hitches as you feel Tony's finger hook behind the elastic of your panties, allowing it to glide along the seam where your thigh meets your hip before moving away again just before he reaches the place you need him most. And once more, you're clenching around nothing because he loves being a tease.

A slight pout on your face has him chuckling before he leans in and kisses it away with a small peck, a smile taking its place instead when he pulls away. His hands slide under the hem of your shirt before pulling it off and over your head, revealing the light pink lingerie you're wearing underneath.

"This color looks beautiful on you, Sweets, but I know for sure it'll look even better on the floor," he says teasingly as he unclasps it, the fabric sliding down your arms and onto the floor effortlessly. His breath hitches in his throat as he sees what you've been hiding all this time, as two small, silver rings are adorning your nipples.

"Fuck," he whispers as he keeps staring for just a second too long, the blood in his body rushing to his cock at a rapid pace now that he notices them. Maybe you're not as innocent as he may have thought you to be, and he's practically drooling at the sight in front of him.

When he finally snaps back to reality, he grabs both your breasts, kneading them softly as he revels in the soft moans you let out. He cannot get enough of hearing them, though his ultimate goal is to have you screaming his name as loud as you possibly can, no matter who can hear it.

"Who would have thought that someone as sweet as you has her nipples pierced, hm? I bet they're nice and sensitive," he says as he softly tugs on the rings before playing with your nipples, your head falling back as the pleasure is increasingly growing. Tony takes the opportunity to suck some bruises onto your neck where it meets your shoulder, your fingers lacing into his hair.

Soft moans keep tumbling from your lips as the two of you stay like this for a while. Tony's lips on your neck have the arousal pooling in your panties again, and you're pretty sure there's a small puddle on the table where you're sitting at this point. From the teasing to the way he plays with your nipples and the praise he gives you, he is doing a damn good job of having you melt into a puddle.

"S-sir," you moan out eventually, the ache between your legs too much to handle at this point. Your clit is throbbing in anticipation as he pulls away, his gaze locking onto yours. The brown of his eyes is almost completely gone as lust has taken over.

"What's on your mind, Sweets?" Tony says sweetly, and you slip into the fuzzy headspace you always enjoy getting lost in.

"I need you," you whisper almost inaudibly, your eyes locked in a heated, lustful gaze.

"Yeah? Do you need Sir to play with that cute button between your legs? Or do you want me to slip my fingers in that undoubtedly tight, warm, and dripping pussy of yours?" he asks, and your eyes flutter closed at the thought of his fingers inside you, bringing you to your orgasm.

"Both," you tell him, and Tony can handle only so much before his restraint snaps. His fingers glide past your bare stomach down to your skirt, which has ridden up entirely from the rocking motions of your hips.

"What's your color, Sweets?" he asks, and your eyes slowly open before finding his. You may never have discussed the traffic light system with him before, but you still need to be aware of what he's talking about, and it gives you a warm sense of security.

"So, SO fucking green," you tell him with your eyes half-lidded, and Tony can't help but feel proud at the way you are already so fucked out, despite him barely touching you. It's a sight he knows he will never get enough of.

"Good girl," he says before pulling down your panties, the soaked fabric being put in the back pocket of his jeans to save for later. A soft moan slips past your lips again, and Tony can't stop reveling in the fact that you have a huge praise kink. He already knows he will make good use of that newfound knowledge.

"Does my girl like to be praised?" he asks, his fingers leisurely gliding through your folds to gather the slick between them, and he can tell you're increasingly getting wetter with his question. Your hands fly to his hair as he finds your clit, and you pull him close before moaning a yes into his ear.

His cock twitches in his pants at the way you're melting into a puddle under his touch, and he's reveling in every little moan and whimper slipping past your beautiful, soft, pink lips. The way the pad of his finger feels against your sensitive clit have you jolting each time they make contact, and you can't stop pulling on his dark brown locks as the pleasure inside you keeps building and building.

Almost as if he can sense it, Tony slips a finger into your pussy, being careful not to hurt you as he slides it in. Your head falls back as the pleasure takes over your body; the whimpers and moans from your lips only intensify when your orgasm creeps closer and closer until it washes over you with a scream of his name.

"That's it, Sweets, doing so well for me! You look fucking gorgeous when you cum," he groans out as you tremble, his fingers now making the filthiest, most delicious squelches as your arousal only grows. His fingers are like magic, and you only want more.

"Yeah?" you ask shyly when Tony's worked you through your orgasm, ensuring you don't crash from your high all of a sudden. A blush is adorning your face at the praise Tony has given you, and you can't stop yourself from wanting more of it and more of him.

"Fuck yes, 's the prettiest fuckin' sight I've ever seen, Sweets. Now I can't wait to see what you look like when you cum on my cock," he tells you, and the color on your cheeks deepens at the thought of Tony stretching you on his cock.

"Let's find out then, shall we?" you ask playfully, and Tony cannot say no to an offer like that. When you offer yourself up on a silver platter like that, he will definitely take his share of you. It would be stupid to deny himself something he so desperately wants, after all.

Before you know it, Tony is completely bare, and you can't stop staring at the monster of a cock that is standing at attention between his legs. The tip is already leaking pre-cum, and the blue veins running from the tip down his shaft don't go unnoticed by you, either. Finishing that with the way his balls look as they hang perfectly underneath it, and you know you're in love. With him. With his cock. With everything.

"Do you like what you see? If you want, you can give it a little touch first; it won't bite," Tony says as he steps closer, and you bite your lip as his cock bobs up and down with every step. You reach out on instinct, and you gasp at the way your hand can barely close around his girth.

"Hmm, look at that, Sweets. It's so big you can barely hold it all; are you sure it will all fit inside that tight pussy?" he teases you, and you nod immediately as you look up at him, your eyes torn away from his cock for the first time since he revealed it. Your hand moves up and down as he comes to stand between your legs, soft groans leaving his chest as you do so.

"God, you're perfect. Fuckin' perfect," he grits out as he thrusts carefully into your hand, trying not to stimulate himself too much before he cums without having even felt the warmth of your pussy yet. As he keeps praising you, your pussy clenches around nothing as you're aching for his cock to be put inside you, to slide home just the way you both want.

He can feel himself getting dangerously close to the edge, and before it's too late, he grips your wrist carefully, stopping your movements. You look up at him with concern, but he's quick to ease your mind.

"I was about to cum, Sweets, 'n' I don't want to yet," he tells you, and you nod. You let go of his cock, instead letting your hand dip down to play with his balls, which was a genius move as he moans loudly as you give them a gentle squeeze. He's very sensitive there, and you're dripping onto the table at the thought that it's you who does that to him.

"God, you're doin' so well for me, Sweets. Play with my balls like that; j-just roll 'em a bit," he whispers, and you do as he asks, pride swelling in your chest at his words. His cock throbs each time you squeeze them gently, rolling them in your hand, which barely fits around them. Even his balls are big in your hand, and Tony cannot get enough of the sight.

"That's enough for now," he tells you gently, and you let them go, already missing their weight in your hand. Despite their size, they were surprisingly comfortable in your hand, which is something you would never have thought.

As you wait for Tony to make the next move, he lifts his hand to tilt your head back a little, his finger touching your chin ever so slightly.

"I want you to know that if we continue, you can tell me to stop whenever you want. You can say yellow if you're uncomfortable and need to switch positions or red if you must stop altogether. Do you understand that?" Tony asks, and the care in his voice has your heart beat faster.

"Yes, sir," you whisper, and Tony rewards you with a small, soft kiss on your lips. It's not enough to get lost in, but enough to leave you wanting more, which is what he was going for.

"What's your color now?"

"Green, Sir. Very green," you tell him, and he nods. There are no signs of discomfort on your face, and Tony gives you a slight smirk as he grabs his cock this time, pumping it a few times before pulling you to the edge of the table and dragging his cock through your folds a few times. An obscenely loud moan escapes your lips as his tip rubs over your sensitive clit, and Tony feels himself throbbing in his hand.

"Lean back for me, Sweets," he tells you, and you do as he asks. The sight that unfolds has Tony squeezing himself at the base of his cock to ensure he doesn't cum yet. Your body looks like it's glowing, and your nipple piercings glisten beautifully in the lights of his lab, making him throb in his hand.

A groan escapes his lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, the warmth of your body already luring him in. The moment he pushes in, your soft, velvet walls envelop his tip, and he knows he's a goner, and he never wants to let you go. You're his.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me like a fuckin' slut; I can barely slide my cock in when you do that!" Tony groans out as you let out a string of broken moans at his words, your nails scratching his back to ground yourself as the pleasure builds quickly. He slowly rocks back and forth, your pussy stretching gradually around his girth.

"Oh, you like it when I talk dirty, don't you? When I call you out for what you are, just a slut who wants to be filled by my cock," Tony says with a mischievous smirk. As the words sink in with you, you let out a long, deep moan, unable to form a coherent thought at this point, but you're feeling so good that all you can do is let the pleasure take over now.

When he's about halfway in, he tears his gaze from his cock, sliding in and out of you to have a look at the way you're looking now. Eyes half-lidded and completely dark with lust, a flush on your cheeks, and your mouth slightly parted— a perfect sight for Tony to enjoy.

"Look at me, Sweets; look in my eyes and answer me. Does my filthy slut like it when Sir talks dirty to her? When I tell you that I'm about to fuck you dumb until you're nothing but a cockdrunk mess for me?" he asks you, and all you can do is nod right now. His words are nestling deep into your brain, and your nipples pebble at the thoughts he's planting.

"You're perfect for me, Sweets. Doin' so well for me right now," he then praises you, and a flush appears on your cheeks from the sudden change in tone. He keeps carefully sliding in deeper, ensuring you have enough time to adjust to his length and girth as he does.

"Color?" he asks when a soft whimper suddenly tumbles from your lips. The last thing he wants is to cause you discomfort, and he will ensure you are given the chance to speak up if needed. Even though it takes you quite a long moment to gather your thoughts, you finally manage to tell him you're good to go.

"M so fucking green," you tell him with a sudden boost of confidence, and his mouth curls into a knowing smile. Now that he's satisfied with your answer, he starts to thrust in deeper, and the second he hits your sweet spot, your head falls back, and you moan loudly, your nipples even perking up at the sensation.

"Hmm, does my girl like it when Sir is this fucking deep? I bet you do, huh?" he asks, and you nod in response. It feels incredible, and you want more of it. You want Tony to stretch you and fuck you until you can't walk anymore. You want all of that and more.

"Y-yes!" you tell him, and he almost pulls out before slamming his cock deep into you, pulling the most delicious scream for your chest as you can't hold it back.

"Scream for me, scream my fucking name as I fuck you," Tony says through gritted teeth. He thrusts his cock deeper into you, and you are sure you can almost feel him in your throat with how deep he fucks you. He hooks his hands behind your knees before lifting them and practically folding you in half on the table.

When you're comfortable in your new position, he leans in, pressing his chest against yours and placing your ankles on his shoulders. In this position, he can truly fuck you deep and hard, and your back arches against him as the pleasure inside you builds even higher this way.

"God, look at you; you like being bent in half, don't you? I can just put you in whichever position and fuck you however I want, can't I?" he says, but you're too far gone even to realize what he's saying. The moans that are coming out are practically endless. Despite that, he can feel you gripping onto his cock like a vice, sucking him deeper with each thrust.

"My little slut enjoys it when I fuck her stupid, huh? Yeah, that's why you're moaning for me. And here I thought you were just an innocent little girl. Oh no, you're a fucking slut who likes to be told what to do, aren't you?" he asks, the table now shaking and more items falling off from the intense rocking motions.

"Y-yes! M your slut!" is all you can bring out as he sets a pace that has you seeing stars. The way his balls smack against your ass makes a sound that has you blushing intensely, and the squelching sound your pussy makes with every thrust has you only getting wetter.

"Can't wait to stuff you full with my cum, then watch it drip out before I fuck it right back in with my cock," he tells you, and it makes you feel like you're floating as it sets your veins on fire at the same time, you have never felt this dirty yet so good at the same time.

"Yes! Please fuck your cum in me," you moan out before pulling him towards you by his hair, your lips colliding in a bruising kiss, your tongues fighting for dominance. The combination of everything together has you moaning into his mouth as he keeps fucking you, and before you know it, you're cumming hard.

With a scream of his name, you squirt all over his cock, legs, and the floor, your legs trembling uncontrollably and your vision going white around the edges for a moment. Tony keeps praising you as he fucks you through it, and you're clenching down on his cock as you cum, making him unable to hold out any longer as well.

"Yes, yes, YES! Oh god, you fucking squirted like a perfect girl! I can't believe how lucky I am right now, Sweets! Getting squirted on by my girl feels so fucking amazing!" he pants out, and it does not go unnoticed by you that he calls you his girl.

"M yours, m all yours, Tony," you say between ragged breaths, and with those words, he has reached his orgasm as well, as he shoots every last drop of his cum into your tight heat. He can't stop moaning your name over and over again as he nuzzles his face into your neck, needing to have you as close as physically possible.

"You're absolutely amazing, Sweets—an amazing woman, an amazing journalist, and, above all, my amazing girl. Because I'm not letting you go after this," he whispers against your neck, and you agree as you wrap your hands around his neck.

"All yours," you tell him. The two of you stay like that for a few more moments before Tony has to pull out, his cock too sensitive to remain inside you any longer.

"Shall we take a bath together?" he offers, and you nod. After throwing on Tony's t-shirt, which is about three or four sizes too large and practically a dress on you, he walks you to the elevator that goes right to his penthouse. He just pulled on his jeans without bothering to button them; he'll be pulling them off shortly anyway.

Thankfully, the bath doesn't take long to be drawn and ready. You let out a soft groan as you sink in the hot water, allowing your sore muscles to relax. Tony follows you soon after, having gotten two bottles of water and some fruit to enjoy while you're in the bath.

"Y'know, I was trying to be gentle with you, but as soon as I figured out you're just a filthy slut like me, I couldn't hold back," he whispers in your ear as you're straddling his lap, his cock trapped between your bodies. A lopsided grin lies on his lips as he looks at the blush developing on your cheeks, and he wants to make you blush even more because it has quickly become his favorite color.

Instead of answering, you lean forward to capture his lips with yours as your fingers glide into his messy curls to pull him closer. The kiss starts slow as you discover the feeling of his lips sliding over yours, but as time goes on, your tongues begin to mingle, too. The taste of something exciting and new invades all your senses, and you're hooked, only wanting more of him and how he makes you feel.

When you finally pull away, there's a smile on your face, but Tony can tell it's not reaching your eyes. The smile he's been craving to see isn't fully there, and his brows are furrowed at the realization.

"What's on your mind, Sweet Girl?" Tony asks, and you drop your gaze as the embarrassment replaces the butterflies that were going crazy in your stomach.

"S nothing, Tony," you whisper, but he knows that's not true. If it has you feeling like this, there is probably something wrong, and he wants to learn all about it so he can fix it, no matter what he would have to do for you. He'd fly to the moon and back if that's what you wanted him to do, no questions asked.

"I may not have known you long, but your mood doesn't turn from one end to the other without a reason. I respect it if you don't want to talk about it, but I also think it will make you feel better if you do," Tony tells you before he gives a soft kiss on your forehead.

With a soft sigh, you plant your hands on both sides of his arc reactor, and the slight hum coming from it makes you feel a little more at ease. It's barely noticeable, but it's enough to calm your nerves, and you decide to tell him what's exactly on your mind. When your eyes lock onto him, you can feel tears burning at the corners of them, a bit afraid of what his response will be.

"I-Is this just a one-time thing? Because if it is, I'd like to know now so I can prepare myself for the heartbreak later," you whisper, the tears spilling over your cheeks. You've been through this too many times to count, and you do not want to be on the receiving end of yet another rejection.

"What? Of course not, Sweets. When I told you you're mine earlier, I meant it. I mean it! We've built a connection over the past three months that I have not felt with anyone in a long time, and I definitely do not consider this a one-time thing. I'm so fuckin' in love with you, I would be crazy to let you go now," he says, and your eyes grow wide as saucers at his confession.

"Y-you're in love with me?" you stammer, the butterflies in your stomach immediately returning at his confession.

"I am, Sweets. I've never met anyone as smart, caring, and sweet as you. And you're very easy on the eyes, too," he says with a wink, making you smile.

"I wouldn't have had sex with you if I didn't think it would go anywhere after today, Baby. You're too special for me to let go, and I want to explore whatever this is between us. But most of all, I'd like to kiss you right now because these lips have been calling my name the entire time," he says as he leans in, capturing your mouth with his.

When you pull away, you give him a soft smile before nuzzling your face into his neck, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulls you closer until you doze off for a short nap. When you wake up, Tony wipes some hair out of your face, and you're met with a gentle smile on his face.

"How're you feeling, Sweets?" Tony asks before popping a raspberry in his mouth, the sweet yet tangy taste invading his mouth as he listens to what you have to say.

"Good. Tired- but good," you tell him with a dopey smile. You're fully relaxed as you sit in the bath with the man you've fallen in love with. And now that you're his, life couldn't be any better.

"I'm glad. And for the record, I meant what I said earlier. I'm not letting you go after this, especially after I've gotten my slice of heaven earlier," he tells you, and you let yourself melt against his body.

"I know, and I don't want to go, Tony. I want to stay in our slice of heaven for as long as you'll have me," you tell him, sealing the deal with a soft, gentle kiss. After that, you let out a small sigh of relief before Tony hand-feeds you more fruits, and you've never been happier in your life than you are now.

What started as nothing more than another job for you has developed into a new chapter of your life, and you're excited to see where this story will go from here on out.

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hedgehog-moss · 1 year

Text

The story of my 3-year-long quest to identify a very rare bird

So I've been trying almost since I moved here to figure out what bird made this strange call that I sometimes heard near my house:

I tried to google "european bird that sounds like a laughing hyena?" and also to imitate the noise over the phone for a friend who once took an online bird course, but she had no idea. (Well, she said "that's a hyena." I said, "but I hear it all the time! Near my house!! Wait I'll do it better." She said, please stop making a hyena noise :(( and I stopped because the cats thought I was losing my mind)

Eventually I managed to record the actual bird call on my phone, and used a Shazam app for birds—but once again, no luck. The first app I tried just assumed it was being trolled and was like "it's you, isn't it? That's not a bird that's your stupid human laugh, you're making fun of me. I'm not an idiot"

The second birdsong app was more insecure and apologised a lot for failing to identify my bird. I thought it must be a rare bird! (The only uncommon bird I know of in this region is the vulture but it sounds less like a hyena and more like if elephants were birds.) Every time I heard the call (usually during the day) I opened the window trying to a) get a better recording so my app would finally have an epiphany, and b) see something flying off a tree.

At one point I was cutting brooms in the pasture and heard the call very loudly, as if the bird was just a few metres away, and it wasn't coming from the sky. I googled every possible version of "flightless (?) bird that nests in thorny bushes?" and found nothing, and started wondering if it was actually a mammal. But I couldn't think of any plausible local mammal that would make this sound—definitely not a fox or badger, who say WAOOHHH, and nothing like the polite whistle of marmots. We've got pine martens in the woods and I found a video called "mating pine marten scream bark" and thought oh!! that must be it! ... but then I listened to it and it sounded like yiiiaaaaaeeeeee, like if you stepped on a baby banshee's toe, nothing at all like the heheeheuruurhh of a hyena who just heard a good joke.

Anyway, this morning I was in the pasture and I once again heard the hyena laugh! I was standing by the moose butler tying up the hay net, away from any trees or shrubs and the call came from just behind me. I turned around thinking there was absolutely no way for the mystery bird to hide, it had landed on the ground behind me and this time I was going to see it!

And

it was HER:

Absolutely no doubt. I saw Pampy's throat vibrating along with the last echoes of the hyena laugh. All these years I've been saying that llamas are very quiet animals who just make cute little "hum-hum" sounds (I rarely hear adult llamas humming to one another, it's mostly for mother llamas to communicate with their baby and with me) and I had no idea that the shrieking hyena-bird I occasionally heard outside my house was Pampelune! I googled "llama alarm cry" and immediately found youtube videos featuring llamas making this exact sound. There was a stray dog nearby this morning that Pandolf eventually chased away, so maybe Pampy was the first to hear him and sounded the alarm. Maybe she uses this cry to tell Pan to go do his guard dog job, because he left the pasture and ran into the woods when she made the sound (while I was turning round like "aha! you can't run, hyena-bird!")

I wanted to share this discovery! I've had llamas for nearly 4 years and I'm only now finding out that they can laugh like hyenas when the situation calls for it. I feel bad for the poor birdsong app that I've repeatedly gaslighted feeding it a llama call and insisting that it identify this bird for me while it hung its head in shame like "I swear I don't have your bird in my database. I'm so sorry. I'm a bad app."

Llamas are fascinating creatures. Please experience their majestic alarm call again, and be alarmed:

#crawling along #you can look it up on youtube if you want to check with your own eyes (and ears)#i would understand the scepticism. it seems like such a random sound for llamas to make!#also as i started writing this post i thought i'd check what hyenas actually sound like and #it's not like that at all ! i assumed they had a mean-spirited cackle because of the lion king i think #when really it's more of a charming good-natured giggle

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wonustars · 7 months

Text

𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘸𝘢𝘺

I recommend listening to Still by Jeff Bernat while reading the first part!

Summary: It’s been a year since you and your ex-boyfriend, Wonwoo, had broken up. You have been having a hard time getting over him, no thanks to the fact you share mutual friends. Friends who liked to constantly update you on how he’s doing. After having no contact for the past 12 months, you two end up at the same party.

Tags: angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, smut (mdni) j.ww x reader, nonidol! au, nonidol!wonwoo, exbf!wonwoo, jealous!wonwoo, mentions of most svt members (S.Coups, Jeonghan, Hoshi, Minghao, Mingyu Seungkwan.), exes to lovers, y/n has way too much pride, pining over eachother during the whole party omf, they both assume too much, a little mingyu x reader if you squint, low tolerance hoshi as always, mingyu is bullied but thats normal atp.

Smut Tags/Warnings: smut mdni! dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, afab!reader, bathroom sex, p in v sex, semi-public sex, fingering, literally one spank (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, tiniest bit of degradation, praise, lots of petnames (baby, princess, love,). if i've missed anything lmk! :}

Word count: 4556 words.

Note: HELLO OOMFG, my first ever seventeen fic has now graced this website. literally no one asked for this… i just love wonwoo. I can't believe i even finished this with how hectic school is wtf. any ways this is my first Wonwoo fic and i'm very excited and NERVOUS to share it with you all...... anyways i hope u like it haha. lmk what you guys think of it PLEASE i want feedback, i crave feedback. love u all enjoy hfiasuheiuhafsi.

SMUT UNDERNEATH THIS CUT. MDNI! 18+.

After a year of not seeing one another, the pang in your heart never subsided. The thought of even breathing the same air as him was already causing you to feel the uneasiness boiling in your stomach. You heard from everyone how well he’s doing without you, you didn’t want to have to see it with your own eyes too.

Unassumingly, you walked into Soonyoung’s apartment expecting to be greeted by the host himself. Instead, you donned upon a familiar set of eyes. Soft brown eyes, the same ones that you looked into every morning for three years.

You tried your best to act ok, but the familiar ache in your chest was creeping in once again. The same ache that hasn’t left for the past 12 months. The same ache that hasn’t left since you watched him walk out your front door.

The two of you are still standing there. Awkwardness started to settle in. You clear your throat and attempt to give your best poker face.

“Hi, uhm is Soonyoung in there?” You Inquire. Cursing yourself mentally due to the audible shake in your voice.

“Hey Y/n long time no see, and yeah he’s already become good friends with his toilet. You know how he gets with alcohol.” He chuckled.

Now you’re mentally cursing him. He looks so composed compared to you. He’s even joking around with you. You have half the mind to back out and just drive home. But you can't. You can't because it’ll make you look like he still has an effect on you. Even though you’re not over him you still have some pride left in you.

“Oh haha that doesn’t sound too good. Anyways, it’s nice seeing you again but I’m gonna go and greet everyone now.” You declare, eyes not even meeting him. If they did you wouldn’t be able to stay calm any longer.

His hair got longer, you thought to yourself. He looked so good even after all this time. The thick rimmed glasses he wore complimented his features well. Alongside the creme knit sweater, the sleeves sitting above his elbows. It gives you a good view of his strong forearms. The same ones that held you while you fell asleep every night.

“It’s nice seeing you too Y/n.” His voice is almost a whisper. Eyes scanning your face for any type of reaction.

To Wonwoo’s dismay you only nod your head half-heartedly and trudge past him. He can feel his heart skip a beat, with both joy and sadness. Being able to see you is so bittersweet, and you still look as good as you did when he last saw you a year ago.

He watches you make your way through the room. Your eyes particularly light up as you spot Mingyu. Curious eyes peer over to your frame and see how Mingyu engulfs you into a tight hug. Wonwoo's fists ball up tightly and he shuts the door with more force than normal.

If things were different, it would be him that has his arms around you. Not his best friend.

You laugh at Mingyu's joke, but you’re still conscious of the pair of eyes that are burning into your back. You didn’t have to turn around to know who was staring at you. A part of you is happy, why is Wonwoo keeping his eyes on you? The other part of you is anxious. Why is Wonwoo keeping his eyes on you?

“We’ve really missed you around here y/n.” Mingyu's soft voice brings you back to reality.

“I’ve missed you guys too, Gyu.” You professed. Your hand moves to give his bicep a reassuring pat. To the two of you it’s nothing but a friendly gesture. To Wonwoo, it appears to be more than that.

His jealousy is brewing in the pit of his stomach.

You, on the other hand, are very aware of the way Wonwoo is eyeing you and Mingyu. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume that Wonwoo is jealous of Mingyu. As much as you want that to be the actual reason, you suppress your inner thoughts. Instead, you let Mingyu continue to talk your ear off about why he thinks Lane's character deserved a better ending in Gilmore Girls.

…

Hours passed and the party has dyed down considerably. The only

people left at Sooyoung's apartment are now sitting around chatting in the living room. Everyone but Soonyoung (who Jeonghan and Minghao eventually put to rest in his room) have been engaging in the group’s conversation.

“Haha, Hey Mingyu! Remember that time you tried to do a flip in the pool just to impress Y/n?” Jeonghan decided to make up a game called Mingyu's embarrassing moments. Group bonding he likes to call it. You can't help but laugh at the way the boys like to tease Mingyu.

Though you found it surprising that Mingyu's failed flip was because he was trying to gain your attention.

“I’m sick of you guys bringing that up! My back hurt for a whole week..” Mingyu huffs, he looks at you with a pout. Allyou can do is giggle.

“It’s ok Gyu, you can show me your flip the next time we go to the pool!” You try not to burst into laughter as you reassuringly pat his shoulder. In the middle of all of this you felt a pair of eyes on you the whole time. Without even turning to look you knew who it was.

Excusing yourself to go to the washroom, you let the group continue to share their favourite moments of Mingyu embarrassing himself.

While you stood there, eyes closed, a sigh left your lips. All your energy had been drained from the party. Especially because 90% of your brain power had been used on looking at Wonwoo without making it obvious. You couldn’t help but steal glances, especially because he looked so good sitting there laughing with the guys.

The tap was still running when you heard the door open and shut firmly behind you. You look up at the mirror to see a pair of cat-like eyes staring back at you. The squeeze in your chest intensifies. Out of all the people who could be in this small space with you right now, it’s him.

“Are you and Mingyu a thing?” He cuts to the chase. Wonwoo was never the type to beat around the bush. Whenever he was curious about something he would ask. He finds it exhausting to play coy. It doesn’t make sense to him.

You cough due to the awkward atmosphere. “W-what? Of course not! Me and Mingyu are just friends. He’s your best friend Wonwoo. I would never do that to you.”

“I’m sorry I just don’t like the way you two seem so close.” He deflates. His eyes are still piercing into your soul.

“Why? He’s both our friend Won.” You retort. His nickname leaves your lips so easily. The blush spreads across your cheeks in a matter of seconds. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this close to him. Since you’ve last called him by his nickname.

“It’s the way he’s always trying to get your attention. I think he likes you Y/n.” Wonwoo sighs, he hates that you're so oblivious to Mingyu’s advances. Everyone but you seems to see the double meaning to his actions.

“Even if Mingyu does like me, I would kindly reject him.” You assure him. You’re not sure why though, you two aren’t even together anymore. Following that thought, your heart aches once again.

We’re not together anymore, you repeat in your head.

You turn around to face him. With your backside pressed up against the bathroom counter, your breath gets caught in your throat.

“My love, why did we even break up?” Wonwoo questioned you with a sad expression. You frowned. You recall the last few weeks before you broke up with him.

He was so respectful of your decision it almost seemed like he wanted it to happen too.

“Because I could tell that the last thing you needed was a relationship. Work was hectic for you, I was barely around because of my last year at school. It just felt like we were always at two different places. I loved you but I don’t think it would’ve been long before we called it quits. I just decided-.” He cuts you off.

“Yes. You decided without me. We could’ve made it work. But you decided to break it off when it could’ve been fixed easily. I didn’t put up a fight when it happened because you seemed so sure that you didn’t love me anymore.” The tears in your eyes were threatening to spill. His face is so close to yours. The proximity of both your bodies. It was so much of him after not having him at all for so long.

“I’m sorry, I just thought about what’s best for you.” You countered. A pout settling on your face. His arms are placed on the counter, gripping the marble on each side of you, locking you in.

“There you go again, making decisions for the both of us.” His voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo's eyes are still trained on yours, and you can’t seem to look away. The sparkle isn’t there anymore. It hasn’t been there since the day you left him.

“Baby tell me you don’t love me anymore. Tell me that so I can move on. Because everyday that I’m not waking up beside you is another day my heart breaks a little more. I can’t even breathe properly without you. So please, just tell me you don’t love me.” The crack in his voice causes a tear in your heart. He’s begging you, the desperation in his words are clear.

You look down. Wonwoo's knuckles are turning white because of how hard he’s gripping the countertop. The both of you are breathing heavily, and you fear that he can hear how hard your heart is pounding.

“I’m sorry Won, but I can’t do that.” You murmured. “As much as I want you to be happy, I can’t tell you that I don’t love you. I don’t think I can ever stop.”

“If you love me then come back to me. Please Y/n whatever it was that caused us to break up, we can fix it.” Pleading you, he grabs your face with his large hands. The motion makes you look back up into his eyes. He’s crying.

The tears in his eyes slip gracefully down his face. Even in this sad moment he still looked so beautiful. A blush prominent on his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His long lashes wet with tears. Sorrow somehow makes him look so pretty in the dull lighting of the bathroom.

Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest and your tongue dry. What are you even meant to say? Is it worth it to come back to a relationship you thought you couldn’t salvage? As much as you love Wonwoo, you two had so much ahead of you. His career was clearly taking off before you broke up with him and you just didn’t want to hold him back. You needed love, you needed attention but he just became too busy, rightfully so. You would never blame him for prioritizing his work, even if it meant straining your relationship.

On the other hand you were in the final stages of completing your thesis. The two of you were always missing each other. He was always coming home in the later hours of the night while you were still asleep, and by the time it was morning the bed was neatly made beside him.

“Won, I love you, I do. But I can tell you’re better off without me. From what Cheol and the boys are saying, you’re happy. I even heard you're dating again.” you chuckle bitterly, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying.

“No Y/n, I’m fucking miserable without you. I don’t care what the boys are saying. I only went on a date because Soonyoung said it would be good to try again, but I can’t do it. I can’t because it's not you. And I can’t stand the thought of you ending up with someone else. I want to be your last. I miss waking up to you every morning, and I miss the way the house smelt when you were still around. I even miss the way you would snore in your sleep. I need you in my life, but if you don’t feel the same way anymore then I won’t bother you anymore. You won’t have to worry about me.” Wonwoo’s voice cracks, the desperation clear in his voice.

His hands are still caging you in, the proximity becoming overwhelming. Your faces are inches apart, and all you can smell is his peach scented cologne. His scent only ever reminded you of home. God why was he so good with his words, you thought. The tears in your eyes start to fall. Fuck. This is not how you thought this night was going to go.

“I love you Wonwoo.” is all you can say in response. It comes out as a whisper as the gap between you two starts to fade.

Your lips move against his with fluidity. He feels the same way he did a year ago, you thought. The sound of the running tap and the sounds of kissing fill the small bathroom. Wonwoo’s hands move from the countertop to your waist, gripping you tight. As if you were about to disappear into thin air if he let you go.

All you could think about at that moment was that he felt so good on top of you. Your bodies pressed up against each other once again. You haven’t been with anyone since the two of you broke up, you just couldn’t do it. No one could get you as turned on as Wonwoo does. It doesn’t feel right unless it's him, it doesn’t feel right to have anyone inside you except him.

Wonwoo still has his iron grip on you, but now his hands are creeping under your shirt to feel your bare waist. You don’t stop him, if anything you want him to keep going. Fuck everyone who can hear you outside. Right now, at this moment, it's just you and him.

Both of your breathing becomes laboured as you deepen the kiss, opening your mouth to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth. His mouth finally leaves yours; looking at you again with those piercing eyes. Staring back with the same intensity you just smile and place a hand on his cheek. He breaks the contact only to dive into your neck, kissing and licking every square inch he has access to. You can only whimper as you feel him marking you up. Even though it's a bad idea for him to leave hickies, he can’t help it. Wonwoo wants to show you how badly he’s missed you.

You two are close enough in distance that you can feel his hard on pressing against your thigh. He’s rubbing himself against you as he licks up your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin.

“Hmm feels good baby,” you whisper, as you move your head to give him more surface area. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hand gripping his bicep to keep you grounded throughout all the pleasure. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this, you can’t help but feel sensitive to every miniscule touch that you’re receiving.

“I need you so bad Won,” you whimper to him. His hold on you tightens at your words. All of this feels like a dream that you don’t want to wake up from. Wonwoo’s lips feathering soft kisses against your skin as he holds you; it just feels too good to be true.

“Shh I know baby, I’ll give you what you want, just let me savour you for a bit.” He whispers back in your ear, one hand slowly moving towards your chest. His hand was fully under your shirt by this point. You force him to reconnect his lips with yours again, kissing him harder. You pull away again just to take off your shirt, your bra following without a second to spare. Not wasting any time your pants come off next, leaving you fully naked against the sink.

Before you can take off any of Wonwoo’s clothes he stops you, his eyes dark with want. Moving you to sit on top of the counter, he spreads your legs. You sit there with anticipation as he massages your thighs, admiring your glistening pussy. He hasn’t done much but he still looked so attractive under the fluorescent light. Your walls lining with slick the more you looked at him. Fingers creeping close to where you need him most, he plays with your wetness. You sigh, the relief washing over you as he rubs slow, lazy circles on your clit.

“Need more, please baby.” you whine, grabbing his wrist to bring him closer to your entrance. He pulls back with a tsk.

“No love, let me play with you for a bit.” He’s not asking, and you know how he gets when you two are like this. You’ve always been a brat with him, and he was never one to give in. Always playing the long game, edging you until you beg him to let you cum. Today was not the day to play games with you though.

“No. Wanna feel you inside me now.” you demand, leading his hands towards your soaking cunt.

He can only sigh, giving into you for the first time.

“This is the only time I’m letting you get what you want. Next time you better be begging for me.” He looked serious, and you know not to play brat any more than you have now.

Without warning he shoves two fingers inside of you. Letting out a moan, you throw your head back. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you spread your legs further. Wonwoo curls his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you, feeling how wet you are for him. He can’t help but grin to himself. He knows he’s the only one who can get you this needy, and he's enjoying every single second of it.

Your moans get louder and he slaps his other hand over your mouth.

“If you wanna be a good little whore for me, you better keep quiet. Can’t have the others hearing you now, isn’t that right baby?” he spits. You can only nod, your brows furrowing with pleasure.

“You're so wet already, this is just for me isn't it?” he hums, picking up the speed as he finger fucks you. You moan against his hand, not being able to give a proper response due to all the pleasure. You forgot how good his fingers feel compared to your own. They fill you up so well, not even your vibrator can make you feel this good.

He continues with his ministrations, the sounds of your wet folds squelching echoes inside the bathroom. Your mind wanders to whether or not the guys can hear you, but they quickly dissipate as his thumb finds your clit once again. Rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his fingers. The familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching creeps up on you.

“G-gonna cum Won.” you breathe out. His hand leaves your mouth, replacing it with his lips. The speed of his fingers increases, the other hand fondling your tits to get you closer to the edge. You moan into the kiss as relief washes over you, your cunt dripping with cum. It covers his hands and your inner thighs. Before you could say anything, Wonwoo shoves his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself.

“Good job baby, you’re doing so well for me aren’t you?” He chuckles as you obediently lick up your cum from his fingers. The praise and your recent orgasm makes your head dizzy.

Opening your mouth you remove his fingers. You pout and pull him closer to you, and he goes back to placing his hands at each of your sides on the counter, leaning in to give you a peck on your lips.

“Want your cock, please baby.” you whine, grabbing the ends of his sweater to attempt to lift it off of him. He can only laugh at how needy you are for him. “Wanna feel you cum inside me please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

He removes his clothes quickly, both your bodies buzzing with anticipation. His pants pooling at his ankles, and his member stands hard and leaking with pre cum. Your mouth can’t help but water. As much as you want to suck him off right now, you don’t. Mentally leaving a note to yourself to ask him about it next time. Next time, you thought. It still sounded funny considering you haven’t been with him like this in a long time.

Parting your legs apart further, Wonwoo moves in between them, his hands guiding his dick towards your entrance. Teasingly he rubs himself against your cunt, collecting your juices for an easier entrance. You look down between the two of you and your pussy clenches at how big he is.

“Stop teasing please, I want you inside me now.” you beg, pushing your hips to meet his. He just chuckles, shaking his head before he forces his cock past your folds.

Gasping at the sudden intrusion, he doesn’t give you time to adjust; grabbing your thighs to hook them between his arms, spreading you further. It gives him a new angle to fuck into you deeper, his thrusts fast and hard just how you’ve always liked it. The pleasure becomes more overwhelming with every move he makes. The feeling of his hard member rubbing against your gummy walls sends you into overdrive. He continues to hit that spot in you that you know no one else can reach. The vigour in every movement causes slapping sounds to fill the room alongside the wet sounds of his cock entering in and out of you. If anything it just turns you one even more.

“Feels so good baby, keep going.” You moan as he places his mouth around your nipple sucking on it as he continues to fuck you. He moves your legs once again to place them around his hips, allowing his free hand to rub your clit once more. The feeling of it all is hitting you hard, especially with how sensitive you are from the previous orgasm.

“So fucking tight for me princess.” Wonwoo grunts, his words causing you to clench around him even harder. He’s groaning above you, trying hard to not cum for as long as possible. You’re already drunk off his cock but he wants to savour every moment of this. The uncertainty of it all is keeping him from cumming too quickly.

The moans coming from your mouth only get louder the more he plays with your clit, and before you know it you’re coming undone for the second time tonight. But Wonwoo perseveres, his thrusts never falter. Not until you feel his member twitch inside you.

“Cum inside me Won, wanna be filled up please.” you’re blubbering at this point, overstimulated and overwhelmed. You just want to feel his cum spurt into your hole. He groans at how the filthy words spewing from your lips, causing him to release inside you. You whimper against his shoulder, feeling the hot white liquid spilling into your pussy. As you clench around him once more you bring his face to yours, giving a deep and meaningful kiss.

“Come home with me. I’m not done with you.” He demands. His dick still inside of you, he refuses to pull out, finding comfort in your warmth.

“I’ll do whatever you want Jeon Wonwoo, as long as I get to ride you later.” you laugh, removing yourself from his grip. He smiles, the pink tinge apparent on his cheeks.

You hop off the counter to put on your clothes, and as you bend down to grab your things you feel a sharp slap hit your ass. Yelping, you turn to give him a dirty look. He can only smile mischievously, the sight of his cum leaking from your pussy lips onto your thighs is turning him on again. As he gets dressed his head fills with intrusive thoughts, ultimately, he decides to save it for later.

The two of you end up leaving the bathroom just to see everyone still drinking and talking in a circle. All the attention turns towards the two of you. Out of all the people you can’t help but notice the way Mingyu isn’t his usual cheerful self, the difference earlier on in the party is a stark contrast from his current mood. Your thoughts are cut off by Seungkwan’s voice.

“Finally! My god, we didn’t know when you two were gonna make up, its been to fucking long.” he exasperates, both you and Wonwoo giggle bashfully.

“For real, the tension between the both of you was too thick. All you needed was a good fuck.” Jeonghan chimes in, giving you two a suggestive wink.

You feel the heat rise creep up your neck to cheeks. In the heat of the moment the bathroom fuck was good, but you know the boys aren’t going to let you two live it down. They never do, Mingyu being a prime example.

“Ok ok, I hope you all got your jokes in. Me and Y/n are going home.” Wonwoo announces, leading you to the doorway with his hand on the small of your back.

“Good night guys!” You bid them farewell and you make your way out of Soonyoung’s apartment. They all say their goodnights to you two, along with some cheers at the news that you and Wonwoo are back to normal.

The two of you walk towards Wonwoo’s car, his hand entangled with yours; holding you tight to ensure you don’t leave him again. The fall breeze sends chills down your spine, the leaves dancing in circles along the pavement. Wonwoo pulls you in closer, trying to preserve your warmth. You can’t help but smile at the fact that he just knew, even when you didn’t say anything.

As you reach the destination of his car, he opens the door for you. Letting you get comfortable before climbing in himself and turning it on to start. The radio immediately connects to his phone, the song humming quietly in the background. Wonwoo’s hand finds yours again, looking at you with warm eyes. He places a quick peck on your lips before pulling away. There’s only one destination for him in mind.

“Home?” he asks.

“Home.” you respond.

a/n: there you have it kind reader! you've reached the end. i hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it :D leave a like, comment or even a reblog!!! i wanna hear your thoughts. mwah mwah, anna <3.

plz note: 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙞’𝙫𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 !

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {fic: since you've been away}#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}

921 notes · View notes

ningvory · 4 months

Note

i love your writing sm!! could you do g!p aespa (need aeri most tbh), reader is the only member who's not g!p, and freeuse?

like if reader hadn't really met the girls before sm decided to make the 5 of them the final group and began living together, and then the girls decided that it's only right for reader, as the only member who isn't g!p, to let them use her? except they don't warn reader beforehand. somno and corruption would be appreciated :]

[sorry if this is a lot, i can't get this out of my head IM.]

if you don't want to do the whole group, just aeri would be fine tbh

tysm anonie!!! anonie your mind is just! 😵‍💫

parings: g!p!aespa x 5th member!fem!reader

synopsis: you were added to the lineup last minute, not really knowing the girls like that. the girls decided it was only fair for them to use you! you were so inexperienced you agreed!

warnings: gangbang, freeuse, corruption, reader is sorta clueless and inexperienced, overstimulation, somnophilia, degradation, face fucking, anal, ass eating, creampie, breeding kink, double penetration, butt plugs, cum eating, tried to make this aeri centered for you <33

to the public eye, you were just aespa’s cute maknae, your bright and bubbly personality made you stand out! but boy was it completely different behind close doors.

prior to your debut, you hadn’t really managed to get as close to the girls due to being put in the lineup last minute and began living with them. they thought you were just the cutest little thing ever! when they found out that you didn’t have a cock, boyy they went wild, thoughts of making you their lil cumdump had them hard!

the four would pull you on the couch and tell you, because you were added so late, it’s only fair for them to let them use you! they would tell you their cocks would be so hard it would be painful if you don’t let them use you and how this would be a great strategy to help you get to know them! you weren’t that experienced in sex so you agreed thinking nothing of it, not wanting your unnie’s to be in pain and you can finally get to know them better!

except the thing was, they never warned you!! the first time it happened, karina pined you down to the kitchen counter you were in front of and began just pounding into you! causing you to squeak from the utter shock! your whines and moans were so loud in comparison to her lower moans as she came inside of you! she wouldn’t even let you cum after she did, pulling out and telling you to be a good girl for her and keep her seed inside of you! :(

ningning would be so in love with your cunt! she would be so undeniably horny whenever she fucks you, she would come in your room when your sleeping and taking off your shirt and using your tits to get off! she would shoot her seed all over your tits and upper neck and just leave you like that! she would definitely love ruining your innocence! ningning would be whining to you in a sad tone, saying how she was gonna use you as her cumdump until she was shooting blanks, you really didn’t have a choice but you still showed no resistance, feeling so bad for your unnie because she told you her cock was in so much pain! but that obviously was a lie and she just needed to get her dick wet, not even caring that she would overstimulate you making you cry! :(

aeri would corrupt you so much! she would use your face to get off and probably make you eat her ass as well, telling you that it would take away her pain! she would be fucking into you for what felt like hours! twisting you into a cute obedient sub for her and the girls, making you their stress relieving plaything with nothing but pleasing them and letting them use you in your mind! she would be overstimulating you for what felt like hours! but you would just let her, fear of disappointing your unnie filled your mind as you let her use your twitching cunt that was filled with her cum, pumping you with more of her warm cum! <33

aeri would definitely fuck you before you all have to go on stage to perform! you just looked too good in your outfit how could she not? you would be in the room with her alone, waiting for the other girls to come back until she pounces on you, catching you offguard!

“you look so good, baby! be a good cumdump for your unnie and take it.” aeri told you with a shit eating grin, manhandling you so that your on all fours, pushing your panties to the side and pushing her cock into you until she was shooting her seed in you!

aeri would definitely tell you to hold it in while you were onstage performing, glancing at you with a smirk on her face watching how you tried your very best to hold it in while dancing! :(

minjeong would actually feel a little bad at first about fucking you when you were sleeping, but seeing how you weren’t even wearing anything changed her mind! she took the blankets off of you, pushing her cock in and immediately felt like she was in heaven and just couldn’t stop thrusting up into you!! you were so tight around her she just couldn’t help but cum right there, causing you to stir in your sleep until she shushed you back to sleep and began using your hole as she pleases until her cock was spent!! <33

they would sometimes even gangbang you! karina would be pounding into into your tight cunt, aeri would be face fucking your mouth making you cry from how hard she was thrusting into you, and you would have to jerk off minjeong and ningning but you were barely moving your hands! the sensation of rina’s cock in you had you twitching and moaning around aeri! ningning had decided to fuck your tight ass and minjeong would push into your cunt and double penetrate you!! they all had high ass stamina so you would be at this for hours. they would all cum inside of you and switch positions so you get a taste of them all in your mouth! they would keep going until you blacked out on them! :(

they would let you rest but only for a bit and going right back to using you until they were exhausted! you were stuffed so full of their cum it was oozing out of you, making them push a plug into your cunt and ass, keeping you stuffed with their seed! they would do this again and again, corrupting your innocence away and making you their cute obedient breeding baby!! <33

#ningvory #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader #ningning smut #aespa ningning smut #aespa winter smut #winter smut #aespa karina smut #karina smut #giselle smut #aespa giselle smut #g!p #♡.nabi’s asks #♡.nabi’s anons #♡.aespa

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neverinadream · 8 months

Text

Can't You Feel It Too?

Summary: Mason would do anything to be with you, even get down on his knees and beg for it.

Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Please Don't Go Home Yet - Stephen Sanchez

Warnings: angst, toxic situationship, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart...), suggestive themes and like a couple of lines that are smut-ish, begging, insecure about love, conflict but with resolution

Notes: so this was originally going to be smut but i didn't feel like it would be appropriate, idk, i'll save some of those themes/topics for another 🤭, i'm not the most confident about this one but only because i haven't written just angst in a long time, i'm mainly a smut writer now. feedback is always appreciated

A sigh left your lips as Mason peered through your bedroom window, a lopsided smile pinching the corners of his mouth. "Open up!" He shouts, but the thick pane of glass between you muffled his voice. He points to the handle, shouting, "open up," one more time. Another sigh passes your lips as you reach for the handle, already feeling the regret you would feel before the sun has a chance to rise. "Hi," he says, his voice now clear to you with the window now open, "aren't you going to let me in?"

"No."

"Come on, love-"

"Mason, it's the middle of the night," you stress, tightening your hand around the handle, readying yourself to pull it shut, "go home!"

"Maybe I should remember that the next time you want to see me in the middle night," he fires back, bitterness bubbling on his tongue as he speaks back to you. He checks over his shoulder when he hears a noise coming from hedges but looks back at you after seeing a cat dart between yours and your neighbour's gardens. "Come on," he tries once more, "let me in."

Your hand remains the handle. "Why should I?"

"Because it's been weeks, y/n," he replies, his voice quieting as the features of his face grow softer. He searches your eyes for a part of you that isn't cold, a part of you that might be happy to see him, but there's nothing there. "I need you."

"You have others."

"But none that are like you."

You bite your bottom lip, gnawing at the soft flesh, and Mason has to stop himself from reaching to stop you. "Not even Jessica?" You drop your hand onto the windowsill, leaning forward to meet him outside your window. "I'm sure she would be thrilled to know you're here at my window and not at hers."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, a harsh sigh of frustration falling off his lips. "How many times do I have to tell you that she came onto me?"

"Then why did you leave with her?"

His lips press together in a thin line. "Who told you that?"

You refuse to answer. There was no need to drag another person into the mess you had been creating these last few months. A one-night stand with a friend of a friend had turned into months of pining for Mason, but months of hooking up when it suited you best.

Falling in love is scary when you're afraid of heights. It's the biggest fall of them all. So you control the situation. Refuse to see him when he wants to see you, deny his calls and stop replying to his messages the second his romantic words start to tug at your heartstrings, only to pick back up from where you left off a week later. And Mason would come running back to you every time.

You would rather hurt him than risk the possibility of love and happiness.

"It's freezing, okay," Mason whines, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, "and if I stay out here any longer, I think my balls might drop off."

"Then go back to your car-"

"I took an Uber here."

"Go to the front door," you sigh, reaching to pull the window shut.

"Or you just let me climb through your window?" A grin pinches the corners of his mouth. "Come on, it'll be a lot easier."

You raise your eyebrow, eying him suspiciously for any sign of intoxication. "Are you drunk?"

He looks at you, offended by your assumption. "What? No!" You take a few steps back, arms folding across your chest, and watch him successfully manoeuvre his way in through your window. You'd never had someone sneak into your bedroom like this before and you had to ignore the thrill you felt. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because if you think climbing through my bedroom window at god knows what hour in the morning is easier than just using the front door, then you better be drunk."

"Or," he takes a second to dust his hands down the front of his shorts before finishing, "I just don't want to run the risk of having to deal with your roommate."

You frown. "Niamh wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I wasn't talking about Niamh."

You wanted to say something nice about your other roommate, Lily, to come to her defense, but you couldn't help but agree with him. Lily was incredibly honest about everything and the first time she met Mason, she told him she thought he lacked intelligence and his career was one of little importance. Could you and Lily ever be friends? Probably not. But you and Niamh had a spare room, rent to pay, and your part-time jobs only could cover so much of it.

Being a student was hard.

"Besides," Mason pulls you out of your thoughts, "you're on the ground floor."

"I've watched you play," you snort, rolling your eyes, "I've seen you take a fall to the floor because of a flick."

"That's just for show, innit."

You turn your back to him, the screen of your laptop and bedside lamp still illuminating your otherwise dark room. "I hope you know I only let you in so you had somewhere warm to wait." You walk over to your bed, one hand sinking into the mattress as you reach across to close your laptop; the last of your reading could be finished in the morning. "You're not staying, Mason. I want you gone before Niamh or Lily hear you."

"I'm not going anywhere." His eyes drag down your body as you snap back around to face him. Your legs were bare and your upper half was covered by one of his shirts. "Cute top," he utters, nodding in your direction, "I think I have one just like it, except mine has this little hole on the left sleeve." He stops in front of you, his fingers brushing purposely against your arm as he reaches out to touch the left sleeve, his thumb running against the small hole. "It looks better on you anyway."

He looks down from your eyes to your lips, studying their shape, the curve of your cupid bow, wondering if they were still as soft as they were the last time he kissed you. He dips his head but forces himself not to kiss you, no matter how hungry he is for you. Instead, he just presses his forehead against yours, resting it there, with his eyes closed, and enjoys the close proximity to you.

"Mason-"

"I did sleep with Jessica," he confesses, his breath drifting down your face and neck as he sighs, "but not because I thought she was attractive or anything like that, I wanted to see if I could move on from you."

You take a deep breath and swallow the jealousy that was brewing inside. "And can you?" You peek up at him through your eyelashes to find him gazing back at you. "Can you move on from me?"

He cradles your head in his hands, holding you still as he pulls back to kiss your forehead. "I want to." His thumb brushes against your cheek, memorising its softness. He treated every interaction with you like it was his last one.

"You should try harder."

"You think I haven't tried?" He growled, pulling back to look at you. There's no trying to hide the pain in his eyes. "Every time I think I'm ready to move on, you appear out of nowhere, and I come crawling back to you like some lost love-sick puppy!"

"Would you keep your voice down?" You stress, taking his wrists and pulling his hands down to his sides. You walk over to your door and shut it the rest of the way. "I don't need another bollocking from them two because you showed up here unannounced, might I add, in the middle of the fucking night."

"Unannounced?" He places his hands on his hips, whispering, "oh my," under his breath. "What? Do I have to make a-a fucking appointment to see you or something?" You roll your eyes, unamused by his use of sarcasm. "I haven't seen or heard from you in two weeks! I had no choice but to resort to desperate measures."

You fold your arms defensively across your chest. "I think you need to leave."

Shaking his head, he brings his hands to cradle your face once more as he closes the gap between you. His heart hammers inside his chest, the blood thumping loudly in his ears; this was now or never for him. "Me and you, I know we can make this work," he pleads, finding your eyes in the dim lighting.

"Mason, I can't do this right now," you avoid his eyes, staring at his chin.

"Then when? Tomorrow? Maybe the next day? Or perhaps the day after that?" He tilts your head back, leaving you with no option but to look at him. "Don't you see how much this hurts me?" He closed his eyes, hiding the tears that glossed them, and rested his head against yours. "Why can't you just pick me?" He chokes on the lump in his throat.

You push him away before you can let yourself melt into him. "You wouldn't understand."

"Because you won't give me a chance to understand!"

You lunge forward and clamp your hand over his mouth. "What did I just tell you?" Your eyes flick up to the ceiling and then back down at Mason, whose eyes have never left you. "I won't tell you again."

"And I don't care if they hear me," he hisses, curling his hand around the side of your neck, fingers caressing you, "let me stay, please? We don't- I need you, baby!" He sighs at your lack of reaction. "You need me to beg, is that it?" He brings his face closer to yours, his breath hitting your ear as he whispers, "I know you like it when I beg for it."

"No, I don't," you pull away, disagreeing with him.

"You think I'm dumb, princess?" You're compelled to act dumb and shake your head like you had no idea what he was talking about. "Think I haven't noticed how you need to be in control over every aspect of your life? Including us?" He moves the hand around your neck up onto your jaw, pushing his thumb against your bottom lip, pulling it and watching it fall back into place. "You want me, I know you do," his voice was low and husky, "and I know how to prove it."

He lowers himself to his knees, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, fingers pressing hard enough into your skin for it to sting. His name comes out in a sigh as he leans in to leave a kiss on each of them, your body tingling like each kiss was a jolt of electricity passing through. You don't want to but you reach out and touch him, a soft gasp melting away the silence as you threaded one hand through his hair. He hums approvingly and leans his face against you, kissing your thighs again.

"Tell me you want this," he leans back, looking up at you in the dark, half of his face illuminated by the lamp, "tell me you've missed feeling my hands on your thighs. Tell me you've been thinking about my tongue on you, kissing you, biting these thighs." You grip his hair tighter, steading yourself as he lifts one leg over his shoulder, and turns to graze his teeth on the inner of your thigh, tongue gliding over the spot to soothe any pain. "Tell me you missed having my hands under your shirt," one hand disappears and Mason groans as he moulds his hand around your breast, "grabbing these perfect tits."

You whimper as he rolls your nipple between his finger and thumb, the nub pebbling under his rough touch. "Keep doing that," you arch your back and pull on his hair. You couldn't begin to put into words how much you had missed his touch.

"I will, baby," he nods, placing another kiss on your thigh, "I'll do anything you want- I'll be your good boy, but I need you to say it." He drags his hand away from your chest, leaving it to linger on your belly. He ignores your demand when you tell him to put it back, hissing as you tug on his hair. "Please," he begs, blowing cool air against your panties, exposed to him as he pushes your shirt up. A faint grin tugs on the corners of his lips as he listens to you moan. "Come on, just say it!"

Just say it.

Say it!

"I can see it in your eyes, baby," he whispers, the expression in his eyes softening as they peered up at you, "please, just say it."

Put him out of his misery and just say it!

You stroke your hand down his face, your fingers touching along his jaw, your belly warming as he melts into your touch. He was starved of your touch, ravenous for just about anything. "Please, please, please," you whimper at how he whines for you, the neediness and the desperation so clearly in his voice, "can't you see what we can have together?" Your head was dizzy and his words had your heart thumping wildly in your chest. "Just say it," he encourages with another kiss, "I know you want to."

"Why are you doing this?" You question him, running your thumb over his chin.

"Because I like you and I know you like me too, and maybe you could just admit that to yourself if you just got out of your head!" He lifts and lowers your foot back down onto the carpet, separating the two of you, before rising to his feet with a broken sigh. You melt into his touch as his hand cradles your cheek, your eyes closing to enjoy the softness of his affection - affection that you weren't deserving of. "We could have a good thing, you and me," he says, searching your eyes as they look up at him, "so why are you so afraid to admit that?"

"I'm not afraid."

Yes, you are.

"You are!" Mason growled, a new kind of annoyance forming in his eyes. "I got down on my knees for you, I begged you to say it, I gave you the control you so desperately needed and you still couldn't say it! It's just three words, y/n-"

"But it's not just three words, Mason!" You raise your voice, snapping at him as you talk over him. His hand was long gone from your face, and the warmth his affection provided was now chilled by the coldness of your hardened exterior. "I have been afraid of heights my whole entire life," you mumble, nervously biting at your bottom lip, "and I don't think there's any greater height to fall from than love."

Your explanation was silly and you didn't expect him to understand.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do if there is no one there to catch me if I do fall," you finish, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, letting your head hang so you looked down at the floor and not at the pain on his face, "what would be the purpose of letting my walls break down if there's never anyone there to let in?"

Mason lingers for a moment, the shock of your admission sinking in, before snapping himself back to reality. "You don't have to worry about me not being there," he promises, hesitating at first and then sinking onto his knees in front of you. He hooks his fingers under your chin, lifting your head to get a better look at you. "I'll be there to catch you, princess," he nods, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek, collecting a tear, "I'll be there every single time."

"Even after all the mess I've created?" You sniffle, it didn't go unnoticed to you that you were undeserving of any of this. He produces a warm but small smile, his hand caressing your face. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as you nuzzle your face into his palm. "I don't deserve you," you mumble, cupping your hand around his.

"One or two people might have said that," he agrees, remembering previous conversations he's had with the likes of Woody and various members of his new club. Woody had told him he was crazy to keep going back, Jadon suggested he should just give up, and Luke had made a comment or two he would never repeat to you. "And maybe once or twice I would've agreed with them," he adds, "but I don't want to move on from you; I want to be with you. I want to fall in and out of love with you. I want us to have arguments over the silliest of things, and then make up by having mind-blowing sex. I want to take you home to meet my parents, hear my nieces call you their auntie, and tell my sister that I think I've found the one."

You closed your eyes and tried to picture the life Mason was already planning for you. Sunday dinners with his family. Playing dress-up and having tea parties with his nieces. Him showing you around his hometown, taking you to all his favourite spots, and sharing ice cream together. It all made you smile.

"It sounds nice," you whisper, opening your eyes.

"It can be if you allow it."

"I like you, Mason," you sit up, lowering his hand into your lap, your fingers fiddling with his, "but I don't know how to do this." You chew on the pad of your thumb, eyes casting down at your joined hands. He strokes his thumb lovingly against the backs of your fingers, an act so small but greatly calms you down. "I don't know where to start, or the right thing to say."

He releases your hand and cradles your face, cutely framing the sides in his large hands, his thumbs brushing against the apples of your cheeks. "Look at me," his eyes peered into yours, their rich earthy tones warm under the low lights, "you like me?"

You frown, "that's what you took away from that?"

"'m sorry," he chuckles, taking his hands away, holding them in the air as he comes to his defence, "I just really liked hearing you say it." He lowers them onto your lap, thumbs brushing against your bare thighs, smiling back at you as you roll your eyes. "Say it again-"

"Mason-"

"Please, baby," he begs, talking over the top of you. He holds up a single finger. "Just say it one more time."

You tilt your head to the side, a surprised laugh bursting from the deepest part of your throat. "Seriously?" He nods, eyes big and round as he produces his best puppy dog eyes for you. "Mason Tony Mount," you take a deep breath and place your hands on both of his shoulders as you move onto the very edge of your bed. He wraps his arms around your waist, preparing to catch you if you were to fall. You lean closer, resting your head against his, gazing into his eyes, letting them drift down to his lips. "I..."

"Go on," he whispers, laying his hands flat against the small of your back, his cheeks twitching as your arms looped around his neck, "say it." You try to close the gap, but you're left chasing his lips. "No," he rejects you, pushing his hands firmly against you, "say it."

"Promise to catch me when I fall?"

"Every time."

Taking a deep breath, you inhaled his warmth, his strength, and his reassurance to always be there to catch you if you fall and exhaled all your insecurities and every part of you that desired to run away. A wrecking ball had hit the walls you had worked so hard to perfect, and Mason had stepped through the hole it left behind.

This was no longer a height you were scared of.

"I like you, Mason," you whisper out into the gap that remains between you. This confession was just for him, it didn't need to be shared with the room's darkness that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. "I like you so goddamn much," you mumble, raking your fingers through his hair, teasing out a gasp as you gave the short strands a soft tug, "and I'm sorry."

Mason frowns, "for what?"

"For hurting you."

He moves one hand from your back, bringing it up to touch the nape of your neck. "I'm not hurting anymore," he whispers just before your mouths collide.

The kiss is exploratory at first. Gentle and intentional. It isn't until his hands are gripping your hips hard that you realise how heated the kiss was becoming - teeth tugging on bottom lips, tongues tangling together, hands pulling at each other's bodies. You pull apart before you can pull him onto the bed, chests rising and falling at a quick pace as you both try to catch your breaths, your eyes still closed, both completely lost in the moment.

This.

This is what you wanted.

"Stay?"

It sounded more like a command than a question, but Mason nodded without saying another word. He removes his hoodie as he stands, and you reach out to touch him, your hands landing on his hips, your lips brushing against the middle of his stomach. He lets out a soft sigh, hooking his fingers under your chin and tilting your head back to look up at him.

"We can take this as fast or as slow as you want it, okay?" You nod, grateful he wasn't expecting you to dive straight into the deep end of this newly forming relationship. "No more running away, no more under-appreciating each other," he says, setting out some basic rules for the both of you, but mainly just for you, "if you stay open and honest with me, then I promise to always be there to catch you."

———————

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#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount angst #mason mount one shot #mason mount blurb #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you

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h2llish · 5 months

Text

【╰ヾ❝ COWARD ✧„

FLOYD LEECH ━━━ eels are cowards ♡ fluff, pining, fuck ooc i listen to no one (respectfully), reader is male but he gets called pretty, lowercase intended

fem aligned dni (she/they, she/her, etc)

eels are cowards. not many knew this, however, and if they did, they believed it couldn't possibly apply to the leech twins.

those two couldn't possibly be scared of anything.

but how wrong they all were. because they failed to realize that cowardice is a completely different light compared to the intimidation, they placed the twins into.

floyd leech was intimidating, towering over most people and always flashing his sharp teeth in a wide grin that quickly made anyone facing him question their next course of action. floyd leech was intimidating, usually sent out with his brother to find anyone who had yet to pay their dues to their good friend Azul. floyd leech was intimidating, pulling others into a tight grip that had them swearing that they could hear the way their ribs snapped, and their heart squeezed under the force.

floyd leech was intimidating. but he was also a coward.

a coward when it came to the boy taking residence in the old dorm on campus. the boy usually found running errands for a negligent headmage or bailing their cat-monster and the heartslabyul duo out of trouble. a coward when it came to the only person who didn't stray away from him because he was intimidating.

you were no coward; he realized that the moment you walked into Octavinelle and struck a deal with Azul to get back your idiots. and when you faced your third overblot with a sigh, complaining about mentally unstable idiots who can't handle their emotions (your words), before reluctantly addressing the ink that had taken over his housewarden. you certainly were no coward.

he liked that about you; of course, he liked a lot of things about you. if you asked jade or azul, they'd tell you all about how floyd talked about you and only you. ━ how you were the prettiest boy he'd ever seen. how you always let him squeeze you. how you never batted an eye when you found him threatening another student. how you said hi to him that morning just before you were dragged away by a hungry Grim. and did he mention pretty? because you're so pretty.

but of course, you remained unaware because floyd could never tell you. he was too much of a coward after all.

but that's okay, because you weren't.

"prefect?"

"hey, jade." you greeted the twin, hands stuffed into the old pockets of your hand-me-down uniform as you entered the mostro lounge. you split away from the line entering the on-campus business to stand in front of the leech. "is floyd here?"

jade raised a questioning brow, but you only met his eyes with a tilt of your head. it was unusual for you to come seeking floyd out, much less at the mostro lounge. although that mostly had to do with how busy you always were, keeping your friends and only dormmate out of trouble and always running the errands crowley decided to dump on you. when you could, you did visit, even if only for a mere minute before you were being dragged off again. because of that, it was usually floyd who went in search for you; and he never tires from the chase, jade notes.

"he is, but i'm afraid he's working the kitchen today."

you frowned, "that's too bad, i really wanted to see him."

floyd would be ecstatic to hear that. jade can already hear the rant he'd likely be at the end of if floyd were to learn you'd said that. ━━ "he wanted to see me!"

"may i ask where you friends are? they're usually not far behind." jade smiled his customer smile.

"oh!" you sighed, scratching the tip of your nose and looking almost sheepish when you continued, "i'm hiding, actually."

"oh?" jade chuckled, "is that so?"

you sighed again, "i needed a break, and i missed floyd."

oh, this just kept getting better.

"i'm sure floyd would be happy to hear that."

"do you think, if you get the chance, you can tell him i'm here?" you asked, "i want to at least say hello just in case my friends find me."

jade's sharp teeth were on display as he grinned at you, a little unsettling for you to witness. you were used to floyd's menacing smiles, but jade's were far more unsettling and eerie. or maybe that's just your bias talking. either way, his smile was starting to spook you. "i think i'll just go get him for you." he offered. you expected something totally different to be said by the way he was grinning at you. (what, though? you're not sure).

you shook your head, "are you sure? "

"of course."

"isn't he busy?"

"someone else can cover for him in the meantime."

"won't azul be upset?"

"he'll learn to live with it."

you pursed your lips and stared at the leech, still grinning widely at you. he was quick to shut down your questions, maybe a bit too quick. he always was the harder twin to read, but then again, just this once, you think you understand what he's doing.

"okay, if you're sure."

a chuckle but no response as jade turned away and began towards the bar. you blinked, but followed him, only stopping when you reached the bar and he disappeared into the back.

you waited for a bit before the moody leech twin dragged himself out of the kitchen. when he seen you, his mood quickly changed, his face lighting up as he called your name excitedly. you smiled, standing from the barstool you had taken a seat in. floyd was quick to scoop you into his arms, as he always does when he sees you, squeezing you into a tight hug that you tried to return by placing your hands on his shoulders.

"hey, floyd." you laughed.

"shrimpy! what are you doing here?" floyd asked you, refusing to place you down. you hardly bat an eye, used to being squeezed by the twin.

"i wanted to come to see you!" you answered with a smile aimed down at the boy, and floyd was reminded of how much of a coward he was, as he stared up at you. "and i'm trying to hide from the others. want to hide with me?"

floyd finally placed you down, eyes wide with unnoticed adoration and his signature sharp-toothed grin. he giggled, "you bet!"

that's when jade finally came back after he went to fetch his brother, glancing at the giddy floyd. he found it amusing how quickly his brother became so animated when you were around. of course, the way you acted around his brother only proved to him how much those feelings were returned.

"i'd offer to hide at ramshackle but they'd definitely find us there." you sighed, completely ignoring the other twin as if you hadn't noticed him at all (and he's quite sure you didn't), crossing your arms and tapping a finger on your chin, "they'd also eventually think to look here."

that's when jade decided he wanted to be helpful (but floyd knows his brother and he knows he was probably just trying to set him up for failure.)

"why don't you and floyd hide in our room?"

floyd is a coward. because even now, after the push from his brother to make the first move by offering their shared room to hide in, he still refused to do anything. even as you flopped down on his bed and jokingly complained about how messy his side of the room was compared to jade's, he still chose to run away from his feelings.

you turned onto your stomach and grabbed one of the pillows he had tossed around in his sleep. you got comfortable on his bed, eyeing the mess of his dorm side and the neatness of jade's side, giggling, "i think you might be messier than grim."

floyd grumbled something you didn't quite hear as he pushed off the clothes hanging off the side of his bed and climbed in beside you. you scooted over a bit so he could get comfortable, smiling at him when he turned his head to you, remaining oblivious to his cowardly heart beating a bit too quickly for his approval. he's always chose to deny his feelings, being the coward he is, he didn't want to accept them. but he's never wanted to run away from you; but right now, that's all he wanted to do ━ is it possible for a boy to be this pretty? it should be illegal. he's too much of a coward to be able to handle this.

your smile had been noticeable since you first seen him, even as you asked, "so how was your day?"

watching you smile at him made him think of a conversation he heard with the first years you always hung out with. he was looking for you when he overheard you and your friends.

crabby had whined something about you never actually smiling, "come on, prefect you're so cold. you could at least try to give us a real smile, ya know?"

"no idea what you're talking about." you sighed.

"yeah right," ace rolled his eyes, "you only ever really smile at grim or━"

"he who shall not be named!" epel interrupted, eyeing the space around them, as if something was going to pop out. and he probably was because his face fell as floyd soon decided to announce his presence, yelling for you. it seemed no one realized he had eavesdropped, except maybe that wolf who only raised his brows at him and shook his head. what?

floyd sighed loudly, exaggerated, "it was good! but then azul had to go and ruin it!"

you hummed, "he did?"

"yeah! he was all upset since i haven't been working my whole shifts or something like that. and━"

you listened as he ranted to you about azul getting upset with him because he kept ditching his shifts completely or halfway through (to be with you. like right now). and how jade just sat there, enjoying watching him get scolded like it was his entertainment alone for the day. and then azul told him he was going to be on strict watch by jade (though it didn't seem as strict now). and then floyd was working his shift before you got there when he and this savanaclaw student almost got into it, but jade had broken it up, and azul grounded him to the kitchen, saying that's where he'd work the rest of shift.

"but it wasn't my fault! he started it!"

"i'm sure he did." you agreed.

"but then you showed up, shrimpy!" he grinned, flashing his endearingly sharp teeth as he turned his head to look at you.

you returned the smile, shifting in your spot to lay on your side with one hand under the pillow while the other went up to ruffle his hair. floyd blinked owlishly at you, smile faltering; you really weren't intimidated by him if you were able to do that without having to think on it too long. oh, the poor coward's heart.

"you're so cute floyd."

you retracted your hand and floyd pouted. you hummed, shutting your eyes and resting your hand back on the bed. your words are unfair, he thinks, because you're far cuter.

"hey floyd?" you called, eyes remaining closed. floyd hummed as he continued to stare at your face, peaceful even in his presence. laying like this would be unsettling for others, although he'd never let anyone else this close in the first place. "what would you do if i kissed you?"

━coward.

floyd blinked, and you peeked an eye open to look at him when you gained no response. you eventually opened the other and sighed, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and crossing your legs, "my bad, that wasn't a very good confession." you leaned forward a bit and smiled warmly, "i really like you, floyd."

eels are cowards. but when they have to, they will come out of their burrows to face their opponents; sometimes the opponent just has to take the first move.

floyd's face lit up with a wide grin, a 180 to his cowardly heart now full of joy at hearing your words as he quickly lunged forward, burying his face into your abdomen and causing you to quickly place a hand behind you for support. he giggled into your uniform, and you shook your head, smiling down at him as you raised a hand to pet his hair.

"awe shrimpy likes me!" he muffled into the fabric, but you heard it clearly. he was giggling so much into your clothes, enjoying your hand running through his hair as he lifted his head to finally look at you. "i really like you too, [name]!"

you grinned at him, "good. jade wasn't lying to me." floyd rested his chin on your stomach as he stared at you, tilting his head at the mention of his brother. and you answered his unasked question, "he visited me a few days ago and said that you liked me, but then he said eels are known to be cowards so i would probably have to make the first move."

floyd pouted; it was true, but jade didn't have to say it. he grumbled, tightening his arms around your waist, "stupid jade."

you chuckled, "i have to thank him though, i probably wouldn't have confessed if not for him. this is actually part of why i had to sneak away from the others or else i'd never have the privacy i needed to tell you."

floyd stared at you as you explained the way you managed to escape your friends while ace and deuce had started bickering, which eventually led to sebek and grim coming to add to the mess, allowing you to slip away with only epel and jack aware. they actively helped with epel keeping the argument going so no one else noticed, and jack provided you cover with how tall he was. if not for them you're sure you would've been caught before you even made it to the mirror chamber.

when you quiet, floyd called up to you, "hey [name]?"

"yeah?" you hummed, tucking some of his hair away from his face. he still had yet to release his arms around your waist and you're pretty sure he had no intention of doing so any time soon.

"you said you wanted to kiss me, yeah? you did, i heard you." he looked excited at remembering your first attempt at a confession, words a bit fast, exactly as you know them to be when he got really excited.

you let out a quiet ah, before laughing quite loudly. everyone at night raven college knew that you weren't exactly the expressive type; you never laughed that loud. at least, not with anyone but floyd (and maybe the monster you called your kid). you eventually calmed down, only letting out the occasional breathy giggle, mumbling something about the eel being so cute; the same eel who was staring at you with bright eyes. (his shrimpy was the prettiest boy he's ever known.)

"yeah, i did." you tilted your head at him, smile seeming to grow when you asked, "do you want me to kiss you floyd?" at the excited nod you received from him, you laughed again, watching the leech finally release his grip around your waist to sit up and lean closer to you. your hand rested on his shoulder while the other continued to keep you supported from behind.

although eels aren't always cowards after they confront their opponent ━ it would seem floyd is too cowardly to close the gap despite how excited he was.

but he remembers that you're no coward when you close the little distance left, (pulling him into a kiss that definitely lasted longer than you intended).

when you went to pull away, floyd quickly followed. cowardice forming into want as he placed a hand on the nape of your neck to pull you closer while his other hand supported his own weight, so he didn't crush you with how he was practically leaning over you now. you laughed into the kiss, to which floyd smiled.

eventually, you placed a hand on his chest and leaned further away, taking in a deep breath and keeping floyd from chasing after your lips. (he could easily win in strength but he remembered that you need to breath.)

you laughed, maybe a little out of breath while you did, but you brushed that off in favor of scolding him, "that is not what i meant." but the smile on your face told him there was no actual heat behind your words.

"shrimpy." he whined and pouted, "but you're so fun to kiss, please?"

you rolled your eyes, refusing to give him what he wanted as you instead asked, "are you free tomorrow?"

"for you." floyd answered quickly, and you narrowed your eyes, saying his name in warning, but he quickly rebutted, "it's fine! jade can cover for me!"

"floyd." you sighed and shook your head, "fine."

you smiled at the leech, straightening out now that floyd had leaned back and sat properly on his bed, "let's go on a date and then i'll give you another kiss."

floyd lit up, grinning widely, "but you're still gonna kiss me again now, right? right?"

you sighed and shook your head. but you relented, deciding he was too cute to deny. "alright, alright, c'mere." you grabbed the back of his head, fingers in his hair as you pulled him toward you. floyd quickly met you halfway, melting into the kiss, as one of his hands rested on the bed beside you and the other on your knee.

floyd doesn't think there's cowardice left in him now that you're his (or well, will be ━ he'll make sure of it after the first date.)

eels are cowards, but they eventually come out of their burrows to face whoever lies outside. and for floyd, that was his feelings for you.

bonus;

"prefect━"

"floyd━

"what the fuck?!"

the two of you separated as the door swung open. floyd glared at your visitors while you only blankly eyed the cause for yelling, completely unfazed.

grim and the rest of your friends were wide eyed and frozen in the doorway. they were all well aware of your feelings towards the leech, but they probably didn't expect to discover the both of you making out in the twin's bedroom. except maybe epel and jack, the former giving you an encouraging grin and double thumbs up while jack only sent a single nod your way.

and behind them, a not-so-happy azul and a grinning jade.

"i tried to stop them." jade said.

"how could you do this to us?!" ace yelled dramatically.

you snorted in confusion and yelled in return, "the fuck are you talking about?!"

he didn't answer you; "we don't approve! right, guys?" ace pointed his nose up in the air, fully expecting to hear a chorus of agreements from the rest of your friends. when he heard nothing, he turned to them with a glare of betrayal. "guys?"

deuce shrugged and scratched the back of his head, "well if he's happy, i don't see anything wrong with it."

ace grumbled something towards his dormmate before turning to the others for their answers.

"it's none of my business. leave him alone." jack rolled his eyes.

"jack and i knew he was going to confess! of course we approve!" epel added.

"the prefect's love life has nothing to do with our own opinion! he is allowed to seek out anyone he pleases!" sebek huffed, mumbling something like "even if it is leech".

"you guys all suck." ace hissed, turning to the cat-look-alike looking between you and floyd with narrowed eyes. "come on, grim! you agree, right?"

grim didn't answer for a moment, but when he did, it was to completely ignore ace's question and address a different matter entirely. he pointed at you in accusation and huffed, "you owe me tuna for ditchin' me like that!"

you blinked, and then sighed, "aye, aye."

floyd was still glaring at the interruptions, though his glare was now aimed mostly at ace. "hey, crabby, you got a problem with me?"

the heartslabyul freshmen tensed, chucking awkwardly as he looked anywhere but at the menacing leech. "do you guys hear that, that sounds like riddle. gotta run!" and then ace was gone, and soon enough, so were the others.

azul and jade remained; the housewarden looked ready to say something, but then decided for a shake of his head. he turned away from the two of you, but not before floyd decided to yell after him his plans for tomorrow and how he won't be working his shift, again.

it's safe to say he got a long scolding after your date the next day.

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

#twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x male reader #x male reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x male reader #╰ ও ❝ fluff

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ruh--roh-raggy · 5 months

Text

This (William Afton x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Hello! Wow, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that big of a response on my first fic so thank all of you so much!! I've got brain rot real bad about this man, so expect a lot of fics for him. Now, onto the fun part. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD, 18+ FIC AHEAD, MDNI, age gap (reader is in college, William is in his 40's/50's), jealous William, hinted that he killed your terrible coworker if you squint, thigh riding, unprotected sex, pnv sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, some spanking but it's nothing too intense, size difference (I just love me a big man what can I say?), cock warming, Reader is 5'0/152cm because that's how tall I am, whoops) dom William, slight degradation, definite praise, pining, domestic!William, OOC William, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, use of pet names sweetheart, honey, pretty little thing, bunny (I think that's everything, please let me know if I forgot any tags!)

Word count: 8,058

You can find my Masterlist here!

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You tapped softly on your boss’s half open door. You heard him finish up a phone call, the receiver clicking as he hung up. “Come on in.” He calls cheerfully. You push open the door, his gaze softening as it landed on you.

“Mr. Afton, can I talk to you really quick?” You ask nervously, anxiously tracing over the cold brass doorknob with your finger.

“Of course you can. Shut the door, come on in.” You do as he says, you swallow thickly as the door clicks shut behind you. You sat in one of the stiff pizzaria chairs he had at his desk, the once vibrant clumps of geometric shapes beginning to fade with age. “What can I do for you sweetheart?” He folds his hands in front of him as he shoots you a small smile. You always found yourself growing flustered under his gaze, your eyes darted to the nameplate that sat on his desk, tracing over the neat gold letters as you tried to steady your pounding heart.

“I was just wondering if you could stop scheduling me with Kyle?” You mutter, cursing internally at how stupid your request sounded.

“What happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?” The sudden flash of anger in his voice was unmistakable.

“No, nothing like that. It just feels like he always goes out of his way to give me the worst jobs. A kid throws up in the ball pit, I have to clean it up. A parent gets too drunk and trashes a table, I'm the one on my hands and knees making sure there's no fragments of glass still stuck in the carpet. I know this probably sounds ridiculous, I'm not trying to start problems-”

“(Y/N).” His gentle tone makes you freeze. Your eyes drift up to meet his. He reaches across his desk, holding his hand out for you. You tentatively slip your hand into his, your breath shaky as you watch him trail his thumb over your knuckles. His skin was so warm, you looked so small and delicate compared to him. “I'll deal with Kyle, okay? You're too pretty to be doing those jobs anyways.” You can't help but blush as he winks at you. He stands up, his height allowing him to tower over you as he walks you to the door, his hand on the small of your back. “Have a good night sweetheart, I'll see you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you.

“Goodnight, Mr. Afton.” You smile coyly at him as you turn to leave. He leans against the door way, his arms crossing over his chest as he scans over the pizzeria.

“Kyle!” He barks. “Come see me at the end of your shift bud, we need to have a little chat.” You couldn't keep the smile off your face as you pushed out of the building.

When you came back the next day you expected to see Kyle seething with rage over whatever punishment Mr. Afton had dished out, but he was nowhere to be found. You wandered back towards your boss’ office, wanting to let him know you had arrived to start opening. “There's my favorite girl.” He grins as you poke your head through the doorway. “Come sit, I took care of opening prep, you relax.” He nods in the direction of one of the chairs across from him. He never takes his eyes off of you as you sit rigidly in the seat. “You look tired, would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, you don't have to trouble yourself.” He attempts to wave you off, both of your actions cut short by the sound of your stomach rumbling. “Excuse me.” You look away awkwardly.

“I guess something a little more substantial than coffee is in order here.” He stands, motioning for you to follow him. You trail behind him as he leads you into the kitchen, the smell of the greasy premade pepperoni pizza baking in the oven practically making your mouth water. He grabs the wooden peel, expertly flicking the pizza onto it and retrieving it from the industrial sized oven. “So you haven't eaten and you look exhausted.” You cringed slightly as you waited for him to chastise you, knowing how bad it looked that you weren't showing up to your job with your best foot forward. He sets the pizza on a metal tray, leaving it to cool as his focus directs itself onto you. He takes a few long, agonizingly slow strides towards you. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” You found yourself immediately growing flustered at the sound of the familiar pet name. Mr. Afton had been using the endearment since you had started, yet hearing it roll so effortlessly off of his tongue never failed to make your cheeks grow warm and arousal to pool between your legs.

“Yeah, it's stupid.” You try to brush your earlier problems of the day away, not wanting to bring attention to what you believed would come off as a childish reason to be upset. Seeing the concerned looks in your boss’ eyes prompted you to continue. “I got into a fight with my roommate today and I ran out of time to eat because we were arguing. I'm sorry-”

“Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize.” A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice. “I'm worried, not upset.” His shoes enter your line of sight, which was currently trained on the floor, as he steps in front of you. A set of warm fingers ghost over the skin of your cheek, pushing back a stray tendril of hair that had fallen out of your messy attempt at tying it back. You slowly meet his hazy green eyes, a patient smile adorning his lips as he waits for his words to settle. You gave him a small nod in response. You walk out onto the main floor of the pizzeria, the eyes of the four life sized animatronics seeming to follow your every move. Although you had grown used to the sight of the vibrantly colored animals, there was something about them that still unnerved you. “Who's your favorite?” You jump slightly when Mr. Afton suddenly speaks up. You breathe out a laugh as you turn to face him.

“Bonnie,” his face lights up at your immediate answer, “I've always liked rabbits.” You join him in the small booth, he eyes you carefully as he serves you a piece of pizza on a napkin. “Thank you for the pizza, Mr. Afton.”

“William.” He corrects with a small smile. “There's no need to be so stiff outside of work hours, doll.”

You can't help but giggle at his playful tone. “Well, thank you for the pizza, William.” He straightens up slightly at the sound of you saying his name. You were honestly a bit surprised to say that you were having a good time. William was charismatic, funny, a little awkward but in a way that came off as endearing. You stood side by side with him in the kitchen, working in tandem to clean up the dishes you made from your impromptu lunch date. You kept finding your eyes drifting over to him, the sight of his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, his muscular forearms flexing as he twisted a rag inside of a cup. You swallowed thickly, quickly tearing your eyes away from him and back to the metal pizza pan.

“Right behind you, sweetheart.” William groans as he reaches around you to grab a dry rag. Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned into you. You feel his arm brush against your back and you dared to look over at him considering that you might never get the chance to be so close to him again, your little secret crush on your boss refused to let you miss that opportunity. You let out a small, startled squeak as you found him already looking at you. Everything about him seemed to only drag you in deeper as you got caught up in his gaze. The deep, musky smell of his cologne, his mossy green eyes holding you firmly in place. His arm wraps around your waist, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls you into him, his lips crashing against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up with what was happening to your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of being pressed tightly to him seeping into you as you let yourself give in to what you truly wanted. Your hands slid over the soft fabric of his shirt, your fingers just barely grazing over his collar to pull him closer when the main door to the pizzeria slammed open and the excited voices of your coworkers filed in. You startled apart, Williams eyes immediately averting to the floor as a look of shame rapidly spreads across his features. He mutters out a hurried apology as he pushes past you, through the kitchen doors, and directly into his office. You saw your friend Ashley jump as the door slammed behind him, eventually seeing you standing alone in the kitchen as your face dropped into your hands. You had no reason to be but you felt embarrassed. Your whole face burned as the moment replayed itself over and over in your head.

“What the hell was all of that?” Ashley exclaims in a hushed tone as she enters the kitchen.

“Nothing!” You turn to the sink, pretending to wash your hands as an excuse to not have to look at her. “Mr. Afton had an important call to take.” She eyes you curiously, knowing you weren't being honest with her. You felt sweat begin to bead at your temple under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” She huffs playfully as she crosses her arms over her chest. She quickly closes the gap in between you, “but if you're fucking the boss and you're not telling me I'm going to be so mad.” You knew it was a joke but you were still a bit on edge from the earlier ordeal.

“Keep your voice down!” You snap, quickly looking over at his office door to see that it was, thankfully, still shut. She gasps, your nervous body language giving you away.

“Tell me everything.” She grabs you by the shoulders, forcing your attention back on her. “Is he good? Is he… y'know?” Her eyes flashing down to your crotch and back up. “Is he big?”

“Ashley!” You attempt to shush her again. “I'm not sleeping with Will-Mr. Afton.” You hurried to try and correct yourself, but your little slip up only added more fuel to the fire.

“Were you about to call him William?” She grills you, a wide, excited smile taking over her face. “Do you guys have pet names for each other? I hear him call you sweetheart all the time but I thought that was just because you're his favor-” You clamp a hand over her mouth, it was the only way you could think of to get her quiet.

“Just hang on,” you wait to see if she was actually done talking before pulling your hand away. “I came in early to open. I was supposed to be working with Kyle but he never showed. I think Mr. Afton might have fired him.”

“Did you finally go talk to him about that creep?” She asks as she leans up against the counter. You nod in response, “good, he was making your life a living hell here. Continue…” she prompts with a wave of her hand.

“I walk over to his office just to let him know that I'm here and he tells me that everything's already done-that’s not the important part.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself before telling her what had gotten you so frazzled. “He was helping me clean some dishes and he reached around me for the towel, so what was I supposed to do? Not look?” Ashley chuckles, being the one person who knew about your crush she understood how impossible that would have been for you. “I looked over at him and he was already looking at me and then he kissed me and then you guys came in-”

“Hold on. Pause.” She holds up her hands to get you to halt your recap. “He kissed you?” You nod, but before you had time to continue one of your coworkers kicked open the double doors to the kitchen.

“Alright ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I got some pizza to make.” He groans through his forced smile.

“We’ll talk about this later.” She whispers hurriedly as she ties her apron around her waist. You nod, copying her motions as you prepare to open for the day. Throughout your shift you kept thinking about the kiss. Did it mean something or was it just an impulse? Did William somehow know about your crush on him? You stood at the side of the pizzeria, unable to keep the smile off of your face as you watched him take a picture with an excited child. You found your mind wandering again, the delighted scream, pings, and whirrs of the room around you seemed to almost fade away. You could still feel his arm wrapped around your waist, how strong his broad chest was under the palms of your hands. You snapped yourself from your daydream, the glowing white eyes of the Spring Bonnie suit studying you carefully. You straightened up, hurrying off to the kitchen so you wouldn't be seen slacking. By the end of the night you had just about driven yourself crazy with questions. Questions you were determined to get answers to. You said goodbye to your coworkers, promising Ashley that you would catch her up when you were able to. You walk up to your boss’ door, a determined look etched into your features. You raised your fist, freezing just before knocking. Why was this so hard? He kissed you! If anything you should be furious! He had completely ambushed you out of nowhere and you had spent the whole day walking around in a fog because of it. But, part of you was worried about what his answer might be. It was easy to hide your feelings from him up until now; glances that lasted a little too long, walking a little too close to him so your fingers could brush his, it could all be passed off as if it were nothing. Now, you were standing in front of his door ready to charge in there to demand an explanation for the kiss not because you were upset with him… but because you were hopeful about what the implications of what that kiss could mean. Before you had the chance to decide for yourself what you were going to do the door opened. William froze at the sight of you standing on the other side. He sighs, raking a hand through his already messy hair.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry about earlier, I don't know what came over me.” Your heart cracked slightly at his apology. So, it really was just an impulse. “Can we… Can we talk about this? I think it might be better for both of us to get it all out in the open.” You were struggling to fight against the tears blurring your vision.

“I think I'm just going to go home, Mr. Afton.” You grimaced at the sound of your voice shaking.

“Sweetheart, I can't let you drive like that.” He carefully wipes away a tear that had slipped onto your cheek. Your lip quivered at the sound of his pet name for you, a soft sob breaking free from your chest as you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. William quickly pulls you into his arms, letting you hide against him. “That's it, let it out.” He says as he soothingly rubs your back. Your arms finally slid around his torso, he rocked you back and forth slightly as he waited for you to calm down. You sniffle as you pull back from him, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “You're even pretty when you cry.” He muses. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. You allow him to wipe away any remaining trails of tears, realizing after avoiding each other all day that you missed being close to him.

“William,” your voice was a hoarse croak as you spoke. You place a hand over the one he has resting on your cheek. “I want to kiss you again… please.” His eyes widened slightly at the request. But, once he let your words sink in, he wasted no time granting your request. You stumbled back slightly as he kissed you passionately. You grab onto his collar, keeping him flush against you as you reveled in the sensation. One of his hands slaps haphazardly against the doorway as he guides the two of you inside, roughly kicking the door shut before slamming your back against it. He takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head in one swift movement. You whimpered softly as he pulled away from you, despite your desperate need to breathe you felt like you would die without his lips on yours. You had to look almost straight up in order to meet his eyes, a wild and hungry look dominating his gaze. He breathes out a chuckle at the sight of you, the look you gave him so full of need it nearly brought him to his knees.

“Such a pretty little thing you are, sweetheart.” He slowly swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, the flesh tender and swollen for the one mind numbing kiss he had granted you. “I can't tell you how long I've wanted you.” You whine as you feel his leg push in between your own. You were forced up onto your toes, struggling to contain the soft moan that bubbles up in your throat at the delicious pressure against your clit.

“Enlighten me.” You challenge, earning a deep, rumbling laugh from him.

“Surely, you must've known.” His head dips into the crook of your neck, biting you hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark behind. “I see you everyday; the way those tight little jeans mold to your ass, how your shirt is always pulled down just low enough to tease me…” you see the briefest look of jealousy flash through his eyes. “How those immature, snotty little college boys are constantly throwing themselves at you.” He pushes into you, his lips staying just out of reach as he keeps you pinned in place. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, he smirked as he felt you squirming against his thigh. “What's the matter sweetheart?” He asks sardonically. You were having trouble thinking straight. Every time you let your full weight sink into him it only made you need his touch more, his hot breath fanning over your lips made your whole body ache for him. “I think you know that no one could take care of you like I could, don't you?” You nod in response, your breathing growing noticeably quicker as he questioned you. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his dull green eyes searching your features for any sign of hesitation. “Well then how about I give you a night you'll never forget?” He smiles sharply at you.

In one sweep of his arm his entire desk is cleared off. Paperclips scatter across the floor alongside papers and whatever other trinkets decorated the wood surface. He grabs your hips and pulls you roughly to him, his lips ferociously meeting yours in a kiss that knocked all the air from your lungs. Your initial fight for dominance over the kiss was very short lived. If anything, William found your defiance rather cute. He growls against your lips, a sound that has your knees threatening to buckle. His hands slide from your hips down to your ass, groaning as he gives it a firm squeeze. You squeak as he easily lifts you from the floor, guiding your legs around his waist as he sets you on his desk. He fumbles blindly with the button of your jeans, eventually being able to start working then down your legs. “I can't wait to fucking ruin you.” He presses a hand flat against your chest, pushing you back onto his desk. You struggle not to blush, turning away from him so he hopefully wouldn't notice. Your fingernails dig into wood as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Such a cute little bunny.” He smirks. “Already so wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet.” He takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to look at him. “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.” His hand dips under the hem of your shirt, his large, warm hand roaming your bare torso as you lay compliantly before him. He roughly grabs your jaw, watching your expression carefully as he eases his fingers into you at an agonizingly slow pace. A strangled gasp breaks free from your throat as his digits bottom out in you, your gummy walls clenching around them.

He chuckles as you roll your hips, searching desperately for any type of relief. He begins to rock his fingers inside of you in time with your movements, taking his time to fully stretch you out in preparation for what was to come. As he gradually increased his pace the louder your moans became. You gripped tightly onto the arm that had moved from your jaw to the desk next to your head, your nails digging little crescent divots into his skin. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He looks over you, drinking in the way your body writhed from his touch.

“William.” You whimper his name.

“What is it, bunny?” He coos. “What does my needy girl want, hm?”

“Want… want to touch you.” Your words came out slurred as you fought through your moans and the mind numbing pleasure he was inflicting on you.

He tuts at your demand, giving you a disappointed pout. “Poor thing, you want to touch me?” You nod furiously. He fingers thread into your hair, giving the strands a rough tug to ensure that your eyes are on his. “Ask nicely and maybe I'll let you.”

“Please.” Your wide innocent eyes pricked with tears as you gazed up at him longingly. He hummed, pondering over your pathetic state as he continued to slowly rock his fingers inside of you. “William, please, please let me touch you. I want… I need you.” Your begging came cracking out in a sob, tears sliding down your face as you grew more desperate to get your hands on him. William chuckles at the sight of you.

“Such a needy little thing” He smirks. He lets the request hang in the air for a moment, the only sound filling the room was the squelching of your arousal in his hand as he fingered you. His lips land on your pulse, causing you to shiver. He takes your wrist in his massive hand, guiding it to the top button of his dress shirt, giving you permission to start undressing him. Your fingers shook as you worked at the fastenings, Williams pace never slowing making it difficult for you to focus on the task at hand. Your struggling was going to be well rewarded. Once you had undone the final button on his shirt, William grabbed you roughly by the collar, hauling you to a sitting position so you were now sitting face to face with him. You whined at the sudden emptiness of him removing his fingers, but your annoyance was short lived. You pushed the dress shirt from his shoulders, William making quick work of discarding his undershirt into an empty chair in the room. You just about drooled at the sight of him. His broad shoulders and strong arms from years of working on machines in his shop flexed and shifted under the dim office lighting. You couldn't tear your eyes off of him as he started loosening his belt. You blush as he chuckles, realizing you had been caught staring. “Like something you see, sweetheart?” He asks in an amused tone. He prowls over to you, the buckle of his belt jangling as it hangs limply as his side, his pants falling low on his hips.

You bite your lip, reaching out for him once he’s close enough. You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers threading into his hair as his lips crash into yours. You run a hand over his chest, the thick carpet of coarse hair tickling your palm. In one swift movement your shirt is pushed over your head, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fall back into place after the disruption. William admired the soft lace that complimented your skin. His hands slide over your waist and up your back until he reaches the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it a few times until the tension of the elastic finally relaxes. He takes his time removing your final article of clothing. The straps are eased off your shoulders one at a time, his beard ticking your bare skin as he places delicate kisses anywhere he could reach. Goosebumps spread across your chest as the fabric is finally fully removed, William’s eyes drifting down to get a full view of your perfect form. He lets out a primal growl at the sight before his lips latch into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you to the very edge of his desk in order to line his cock up with your entrance. You moan into his mouth as he sheathes himself full inside you in one hard thrust. Your breath comes out in long, shaky exhales as you struggle to adjust to his size. Even with the prep from his fingers he still stretches you to a point that makes you feel like you're about to rip in half. William was a lot bigger and thicker than any guy you had been with previously. You already felt drunk just from the sensation of him bottoming out in you. “Eyes on me, bunny.” He whispers in a gentle tone. Your eyes flutter open, you hadn't realized you had even shut them to begin with, meeting his hazy green ones. You cry out as he gives you a single sharp thrust, a mixture of pain and pleasure burning white hot through your body as you struggle to take all of him. He lets out a satisfied hum as he studies your fucked out expression. “Already cock drunk, hm?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours to keep your attention on him. With every snap of his hips it brought you closer and closer to your climax, your moans impossibly loud in the small, cramped office. “You wanted this all along, didn't you sweetheart? You knew those stupid little boys could never make you feel like this.” He snarls. “Now, here you are, about to cum on my cock.” Drool had started to leak out of the corner of your mouth as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. He dips a hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“William!” You moan out his name, his free arm wrapping securely around you to hold you tightly against him.

“Such a dirty girl, fucking someone nearly twice your age.” He chuckles cruelly, his eyes darken as they meet yours through your haze. “Pathetic.” Degrading you like that seemed to unleash something primal in him. His thrusts somehow managed to get faster and more brutal. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, desperately crying out his name as you clawed against his back. His hands wrap under your thighs, lifting you from the desk slightly in order to get better leverage. “Fuck.” He groans, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he approaches his end. He kisses you hard as he finishes, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You both stayed locked in your embrace for a moment, waiting for your breathing to calm down. You wince as he pulls out of you, a slight sting as your absurd cunt attempts to clamp around nothing. He looks around the room for something to clean you up with, deciding on his shirt when nothing else seemed plausible. He gingerly reaches in between your legs, a softness and hesitancy you didn't expect after the evenings most recent events. You let out a soft hiss at the slight bit of pain you felt as he cleaned you up. He soothingly caresses your thigh with his free hands, shooting you an apologetic look from his position situated in between your legs. You studied him for a moment, his gaze distant, and hazy as it trailed to the floor.

“William.” Your soft voice drifted over his ears, bringing his attention back to you. You adjusted your position so you could sit up. “Come here.” He stands, even sitting on his desk he still towered over you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his soft stomach. You trail your hands over his back, his skin slightly sticky with sweat.

“I’m sorry if I took things too far-”

“You didn’t.” His gruff voice was cut off with your quiet reassurance. “You were amazing.” You give him a coy smile before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. A small smile breaks out on his face as he chuckles at your glimmering expression.

“Come on bunny, let’s get you dressed.” He combs his fingers through your hair, “although I will never get tired of looking at your beautiful body.” He winks causing you to blush, you lightly slap his chest. He places a kiss on your forehead before collecting your clothes. You feel eyes on you as you’re getting dressed, you can’t help but smirk when you look over your shoulder so see William staring at your ass. You make a show of stepping into your panties, adjusting them so they are perfectly in place before shimmying into your jeans. William was practically drooling as he watched your supple flesh jiggle as you worked yourself into the tight clothing. You place one final kiss to his burly chest before he slips his undershirt back over his head. He trails a finger over your jaw. “I was hoping we could make this a more than one time thing… Maybe I can take you out to dinner after work some night?” He asks with a charming, lopsided smile.

“I’d really like that William.” You push yourself up on your toes, having him meet you halfway to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “Goodnight.” You whisper with a smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He breathes out a laugh as you both slowly pull away. You grab your jacket and bag from the employee locker room, giving William one small wave as you pass by his office on your way out. You fell into your driver seat with a groan, sticking your keys in the ignition, your heart still pounding in your chest. You turned the key expecting your engine to rumble to life, but your car refused to start. You tried again and again, falling against the steering wheel with an aggravated sigh. You kicked open the door and trudged back inside. William gave you a confused look as you walked back up to his door. “Everything alright?”

You grew embarrassed over the fact you had to ask. You never had anyone who was able to teach you about cars, you wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to find the problem yourself. “My car won’t start. I hate to ask, but could you come look at it?”

“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of it.” Your heart flutters in your chest at him taking charge of the situation. You definitely could get used to having him around, there was something about his unwavering confidence that made you long for him even more. You follow him back outside, watching him carefully as he examines your engine, a massive black flashlight held tightly in his hand. “I see the problem.” He groans as he reaches to point something out to you. “You need a new timing belt.” He points out the problem, excitedly going through the mechanics as you listened attentively. “You can leave your car here, I’ll pick you up a new one tomorrow.” He stuffs his hand in his pocket. He twirls his keys around his pointer finger. “Let me just go lock the door and I’ll drive you home.” You nod, growing giddy over the fact you would get to spend more time with him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he leads you around back to his car. You slide stiffly into his passenger seat. The inside of his car was pristine, some vintage model muscle car you didn’t know the name of. William’s hand envelops your thigh as he drives, ever so often giving the soft skin a gentle squeeze as you direct him to your off campus apartment. You lived in the not so great part of town, even outside of Hurricane standards. Shootings, stabbings, human trafficking, all of it had happened somewhere in your neighborhood. You noticed William’s expression grow more concerned as you drove. You eventually pulled up in front of your building, a rickety looking triple decker that looked like it would collapse from a slightly too strong gust of wind.

“Well this is me.” You state softly with a slight shrug of your shoulders. William sighed as he stared up at your building.

“You live here by yourself?” He glances at you in the passenger seat as he asks. You nod in response. “Bunny, would you like to come spend the night at my house. It’s dangerous for a girl like you to be by herself out here.”

“Spend the night with you?” You repeat his request back to him, he nods slowly, worried he crossed a line. “If you’re offering, I'm definitely not going to say no.” You lean across the cab of the car, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The drive back to his house was spent mostly in silence, every so often his hand would drift from your thigh to bringing your knuckles to his lips. You left the main part of town, the houses you passed becoming few and far between as the sides of the road were taken over by tall fir trees. You pulled up in front of a cozy looking house, the outside paint faded from years of abuse from the harsh Utah weather.

“Home sweet home.” Me mumbles with a lopsided grin. You trail closely behind him as you walk up to the door, jumping at every snapping twig and animal scurrying through the brush. “There’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart, I’ll keep you safe.” He smiles down at you, keeping you tucked into his side as he unlocks the door. He gently nudges you inside first, following closely behind you. The second the door clicks shut William’s lips are on yours again, a flustered sigh escaping you as you melted into him. “I’m going to get dinner started.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Would you like some help?” He nods, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen.

“I would love some.” He grins at you. The two of you worked side by side to prepare dinner, every so often you would catch William stealing glances at you out of the corner of your eye. “Honey.” He suddenly speaks up, you turn to face him only for him to pull you into a kiss. “You just sit here and look pretty, I’ll finish this up.” His large hands wrap around your waist, he lifts you from the floor and sets you on the counter with ease. He hums as he works beside you, easily recreating his recipe from memory. Always keeping you on your toes, he was making homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese. He takes quick pauses, caging you in between his arms on the counter as he gives you rushed kisses that leave your head spinning. He holds out his hand for you, a gesture you gladly accept. He helps you down from the counter, balancing your plates and bowls on his arm. You sit across from each other at the small dining room table. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Unfortunately this shit hole has one of the best colleges in the state.” You respond with a laugh of your own.

“What’s your major?”

“Mechanical engineering.” You respond the moment he finishes his question. He looked very perplexed by your answer.

“What made you want to take that up?” He leaned forward, completely focused on you alone.

“Well, honestly, you did.” You blush a bit as you respond. “The animatronics you make are phenomenal. I hope one day I can be half as talented as you are.” He looks away bashfully, not used to such direct flattery.

“Maybe I can have you help out in the workshop sometime.” He offers with an excited glint in his eyes.

“If it means spending more time with you I would love to.” You shoot him a flirtatious smile. You find yourselves drifting closer together as you clean up after dinner. You gathered up your plates, standing on your toes to try and put them in the cabinet with the rest. You let out a frustrated sigh as you struggled to reach. The warmth of William’s body pressing into yours from behind made you freeze.

“I got it sweetheart.” He chuckles, taking the plates from your hands. “Such a cute little thing you are.” He whispers next to your ear making you shiver. You squeal as he lifts you from the floor, taking you in his arms as he carries you upstairs. He tosses you onto the bed, stripping out of his clothes with a groan, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. You can’t help but smirk slightly as you grab him by the wrist and pull him in to kiss you. “Strip, I wanna hold you.” He commands. You decide to give him a little show, taking your time to peel out of your jeans, swaying your hips as you pull your top over your head. You stripped out of your lingerie before straddling his lap. His hands knead your ass, rocking you gently against the already half hard erection in his boxers. He pulls you into bed, shutting off the lights before joining you himself. He slings an arm over your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. You bite your lip, shifting your hips as you feel his cock press into your back. The moon cast in through the window, basking the room in a dull silver glow. You hear William’s breath catch in his throat as you press your ass into his throbbing member. “Someone’s needy.” He chuckles, his breath hot against his ear. “What’s the matter bunny, need me to fill you up?” You nod, letting out a soft whine as you push back into him again. He places a kiss just below your ear, spreading your legs with his hand as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a broken moan as he slowly pushed inside of you.

“Holy fuck.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his forearm as you grab him tightly as your walls stretch painfully around him. “Wow.” Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back in your head. His fingers slid around your throat, putting a delicious pressure on your neck.

“Such a good bunny, taking me so well.” His meticulous hand placement was starting to make you feel light headed, the mixture of the sensation and his praise making you dizzy with dopamine. You moan as he rolls his hips slightly. “You feel so good squeezing around my cock.” He purrs before placing a kiss on your cheek. You squirmed and whined as you lay there, impaled on his throbbing cock. William groaned at how wet you were, he could feel your juices dripping down the base of him. “So pretty sweetheart.” He coos, chuckling at your desperate state. His arm tightens around you, rolling his hips and causing you to cry out. You cursed as he pushed impossibly deep inside of you, your body moving instinctually as you bounced on his cock. He groans, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Your moans grew louder and more fervent with every thrust, his tip kissing the perfect spot inside of you everytime. Your thighs started to shake as you felt your climax creeping up on you. “Are you going to cum for me sweetheart?” He asks in a sweet voice. You nod, biting your lip to try and muffle your moans. You yelp as he suddenly delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “I want to hear you bunny.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes sir.” You gasp, letting your moans fall freely from your mouth. You let out a high pitched whine as your orgasm hung joust out of reach. You moan out his name, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He reaches a hand in between your legs and swipes his fingers over your clit.

“So good for me.” He praises you. He wraps his hands around your waist, helping you fuck yourself faster on his cock. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, sobbing as he fucks you through your climax. Your whole body shook, your hand gripping weakly onto his wrist. “I got you sweetheart.” He whispers, settling himself deeply inside of you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you nestled into his soft pillows. He pulls the comforter up around your shoulders. You smiled at the scent of his musky cologne. Every small shift from him made you whine, after letting you rest for a while he began to rock his hips again. Small gasps and sighs falling from your lips as he tenderly fucks into you. “I’m gonna fill you up.” He groans, his thrusts growing uneven and stuttering every so often.

“Please.” You moan softly. Hearing your soft voice only seemed to spur him on. His slow deep thrusts had both of you moaning. You held on tightly to William’s arms, wanting to be pressed as close to him as possible. He groans your name as he finishes, his hips stuttering as he pushes as deep inside of you as he can manage. He places soft kisses to the nape of your neck as he pulls you into his chest. You found yourself easily drifting off in his arms, before you knew it you had drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When you woke up you rolled over, cuddling into his warm back. You placed a soft kiss to a couple of the faded scars on his shoulder.

“Well good morning sweetheart.” He hums as he rolls over and pulls you into his chest. “You wanna stay in bed while I get breakfast started?” His voice raspy and deeper than normal as he fought off the thickness of sleep.

“Can you stay in bed just a little longer.” You put, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“Sure, anything for you sweetheart.” He says with a smile and a kiss to your forehead. You laid on top of his chest, your fingers trailing through his chest hair as you talked about the plan for the day. He places a soft kiss to your lips as he slides out from underneath you to go get dressed. You cuddle up into the blankets, watching the muscles in his back flex as he gets dressed. A little while later he returned with a tray full of food, setting it in between the two of you. The two of you chatted pleasantly over breakfast, William consistently making you smile and laugh. “I’m going to head out to the garage, take your time getting ready, I’ll be out there when you’re done.” You grab him by the collar, keeping his lips on yours for a little longer than normal. He shoots you a wink as he slips out of the bedroom. You took your time getting ready, slipping into one of his shirts, the oversized clothing falling half way down your thighs. You washed your face and fixed your hair before wandering downstairs to find William. You heard the sound of powertools and pushed through the door. William stood with a welding mask on, his shirt discarded over a nearby chair. His skin, completely drenched in sweat, glowed in the dim overhead lighting. Streaks of grease dragged down his neck and across his stomach from where he had rubbed his hands across his skin. He flips his mask off when he notices you entered his workshop. “Hey bunny.” He grins. You saunter over to him to look over his expert work.

“You really are incredible, William.” He runs his fingers through his hair as he clears his throat, a noticeable blush on his face. You stood by him, allowing him to walk you through his process, an arm wrapped around your waist as he kept you tucked safely against him.He cursed as he looked up and noticed the time.

“We’re gonna be late.” He takes your hand, leading you inside. He pulls you into a heated kiss as he helps you out of your borrowed clothes. He picks you up and carries you into the shower. You yelped and giggled as your back pressed into the frigid wall. William carefully lets down your hair before allowing you to wet it. You sigh as he works shampoo into your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help but stare as you watched the soapy water run down his body. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, retrieving your work clothes as you dried off. You both ran to his car, laughing as you fell into the front seats. “I’ll run out and grab the timing belt for your car after I check in on Freddy’s.” He promises. You nod, a bit sad that your stay with him was over so quickly. You fall into him as he turns sharply into the parking lot. He tilts your chin up with a finger, a softness in his eyes as he studies your features. His eyes flash down to the dark bruises and bitemarks that littered your neck. “Are you, um… are you okay with people knowing about this?” He asks with a slight wavering in his voice.

“This?” You ask with a coy smile as you raise your eyebrow at him.

“Us.” He blurts out before swallowing thickly. You lean in ,placing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Only if you are.” He breathes out a soft laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He walks around to your side of the car as you’re gathering your things, opening your door for you. You thank him softly as he helps you out. You link your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds the door open for you, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing his lips to yours in one long, loving kiss.

“I’ll see you after work, bunny.” He winks before slipping off to his office. You smile as you watch him head out, adjusting his tie and greeting customers as he passes by. You turn to look out over the pizzeria, meeting Ashley’s shocked expression. She speed walks over to you, her eyes immediately falling to your abused neck.

“What happened to catching me up?” She yell whispers at you.

“Things might have gotten a little more serious than just a kiss.” You admit awkwardly.

“Well no shit, look at the hickey’s he gave you.” You smile as you catch his gaze from his position seated at his desk.

“He wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his.”

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Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery (I think that's everyone, if you'd like to be added to the tag list or I forgot you please let me know!!)

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