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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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comfortless · 2 months

Text

Only Other

chapter three of three.

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. historical au (set around 350BC); potential inaccuracies as i am no historian!, König speaks some German here (as opposed to Gothic), mutual pining & worship, smut (piv), sliiiight breeding kink, violence, as always König is horribly in love and says ridiculously worrisome things, reader feigns ambivalence but is equally unhinged and smitten.

notes: eternally grateful to @wordsbyvani for reading over my shoulder and genuinely being the sweetest throughout every part. ^^ and again to @writersdrug for giving me the idea to begin with!

wc: 9k.

<- previous.

König’s men arrive sometime in the afternoon, a few hours behind but carrying hoards of supplies. There are weapons you recognize to be from your city stuffed into bags, pelts and silks and twinkling stones, meats and fruits. They had not forgotten to bring along wine, either: two barrels to either side of a gray mare led along behind one of their rugged steeds by a length of thick rope.

You don’t ask how they found her, let alone how they managed to actually tame her down enough to follow amidst the chaos that broke out the night prior. A weak string of “thank you”s leaves your lips when you press your nose to the horse's snout, sobbing into her silver fur. She seems less bothered, huffing impatiently as she’s tethered up with the others against broad trees.

You’re not convinced that here or anywhere is safe anymore, and you don’t assist when the men begin to set up their camp. They’ve enough supplies and arms to do it themselves, anyhow.

Guilt, trepidation and confusion, haunt you: cast out for all to see by your forlorn stares and the tremor of your lower lip as you continuously fight an internal battle to keep yourself sane. And how could you? You’ve only come to reason that this has all come to fruition because of you, because of the things that you could not help. Your curiosity, fascinations, and impiety had all led you to be here, now, while everyone you once knew sleeps eternally.

You have condemned yourself to the life of a slave girl, and later to the darkness of the Orcus when you do die.

Though… men do not give their slaves the looks that König gives to you. You haven’t spoken to him in hours, and you do your best to avoid his glances, shoot down his smiles with the curved arrow of your own sullen frowns. Still… amidst setting up the tents and gathering wood for the fire to stave off the chill of nightfall, you catch the very stars reflected over a sea in his eyes.

There is love there, a too-uncanny and harrowing love, but a great devotion nonetheless. It burns like a fire of its own in your chest, inescapable and rampant. You know it in the spaces behind your skull, your ribs, that what he feels is another cage: roomier, softer, but you will never be free of it either.

König does not follow you to the tent when the moon rises. He sits by the fire, watching as you go with the pelt drawn up over your shoulders and curled around you. When you sink into the bed of fur that has replaced the straw mattress from before you find yourself somehow even more fitful here than outside. Sleep is evasive, leaving you tossing and twisting amidst the smell of sweat and animal fur. Not even the crackling fire outside defeats the quiet or the cold in the air.

There’s a sickly pit in your stomach, thorn seedling threatening to take root and spread the longer you stare up at the blackened abyss of the tent ceiling. If you’re to live a life torn, at the very least you could be warm; you take to König’s side in moments, joining him by the slowly dwindling flame.

The brute isn’t sleeping, either, just… lost. Lost like you the day that you met him.

“I need to look at your wound.” Your excuse comes weak and puny, doe limbs and fragile glances when you do sit at his side and speak. You’ve never been anyone’s ‘Göttin’, you don’t know what you’re doing, what blessings to grant or judgments to cast. Avoiding him only seems a punishment for you both, and you’ve had your share of those.

König is anything but small: even amidst the turmoil your silence has gifted to him, he still seems himself, all ego and cruelly cut silver, softened only by your words, your touch.

“Richtig,” he mutters, reaches out to pull you in, and you let him. Straddling his lap with only the moon above awake to witness, cast her curious gaze down and illuminate the expanse of his chest whilst you work to pull away the bandages.

There isn’t much to tend to, it’s healing well. The flesh that once seemed inflamed has only drawn back its redness to simmer to the natural color of his skin. When you begin your careful prodding, it does not hurt him. He doesn’t so much as flinch or huff at your touch.

When you dab your index in the sweet honey that serves as a salve, he grasps at your hand and brings it up to his lips, presses a kiss to your index and middle without hesitation. And you see it then: a glimmer of hesitation in the way his lips pull and his eyes search your own, a silent plea for vindication.

You’ve never been cold to him, not even as he spoke with so much self-importance when you first met, not when he rutted his blade between your parted legs, not even now after all that he’s done. In his own way of thinking, these things have all been some display of courtship. There’s never cruelty toward you, not in his touch, the words that he speaks, and especially not in those somber eyes. These things break down the last fraying edge of your resolve.

You press your mouth to his, sharing the taste of honey pressed to his lips, everything sugary and warm. Over and over until the night begins to close its way in, plump clouds drifting over the pearl hanging in the sky when you finally find yourself tucked back into the tent with König curled at your side. He holds you closer than he ever has, not from a fear you’ll take off under the darkened sky, but in the honoring of something far greater. Some love comes quiet like flower blooms, his comes with fire.

“Wolves pair in winter,” he says quietly, burying his face into your hair. It’s shy, almost, as though the man has not already embedded his scent into your very skin and toyed with your most sensitive parts. It’s truer, more heartfelt, than even his confessions of love.

“Is that what you see us as being?” You laugh, a slow, gentle chime that aches your throat, face still puffy from tears and voice scratchy from those thick clouds of smoke.

“Ja…”

“You really…” The words get caught up someplace in the spaces between your lungs and tongue. You don’t want to cry, not anymore, but you find it difficult not to choke up after so much comfort with a lifetime of so very little. “You do care for me, don’t you?”

He answers your question in a grumble, a string of foreign words only meant for mountain caverns and creatures that walk on all fours and somehow they make sense. A resounding yes, in three gutteral sounding words. The frayed ends of guilt and anger finally drift off as you settle into his hold like a den of pure comfort, warm and buried in a world of fur and a man blessed by trees and the earth rather than gods and myth.

When the breeze picks up outside, rustling sprawling oak limbs, momentarily silencing the fire, its as if they answer him in your stead. You don’t cry, though it aches, but you let go of the memories of all your begging to those that never seemed to listen. Here, in the dark you’ve found the only person that seems to understand without even knowing.

You drag the pelts up over the both of you, clasp your hand over his where it rests beneath them, and fall into a haze of contentment. He draws you nearer, breath filtering through your hair from where his head lies just above your own.

The dreams that come are no longer of places you can not reach, but only of the memory of a city that was never meant to house your spirit.

You wake to König’s pawing. It begins along your sternum, hand placed flat there only to glide further up and push at your tit. It’s gentle and testing, pushes fire into your very veins when for the first time he doesn’t seem to remain entranced there. It drifts, further up to cup your jaw.

“You are awake?,” he rasps, propping himself up to inspect your face where you lie, weakened and warmed by sleep.

“Yes…”

“Are you still bereaved?,” König asks in such a hushed voice, reaching toward you again. His hand seems to tremble when it finds your face, thumb brushing over your mouth with such trepidation it seems misplaced for him.

“Partly.”

You consider your dreams again: the open street, devoid of people apart from those that face down at you with contempt building in hollow eye sockets. Where grass once sprung up beneath the cracks in the stones, there were only small flames. And you do still grieve for those that were innocent in the entire affair, those trampled by cattle when they had only just had a taste of escape. Your very mind begins to darken at the thoughts, your body only tensing further, a bowstring on the verge of snapping,

“Is that why I can not have you?”

“I never said…” Your voice only grows thin, detached almost from the way you purse your lips to kiss the digit toying with you. Your heart is only thunder, the sound of those wretched hooves: yearning was dangerous itself, your own only seemed to take further shape with each passing moment. Claws and a waiting maw, just like the wolves he speaks of.

König hums, a deep rumble from his chest as he gives a slow nod of acknowledgement.

It all becomes tree sap, a sticky confectionery bout. His mouth descends upon your own as though starved, hurried and longing as he samples you, the you who certainly yearned for the bathhouses to clean herself properly. All thought seems to dispel when his hand leaves your cheek and neck to begin its painfully slow descent between your legs, burrow between wax and honey to pull soft cries from your mouth.

He only stills his dismantling of you when you’re trembling and doughy, squeezing around his fingers so tightly you wonder how he can continue to bury them inside at all.

Just as the other gods, Sol is lost here when König crawls over you, all shadow and wretched, led here with the promise of a prey that you are not. Only another wolf… the flame in his winter eyes is the same that’s settled inside of you.

His head dips to kiss into your hair while your leg is pulled to settle over his hip. You feel a kiss, a different sort, when the pillar of his manhood reaches between your bodies to settle over your sex, probing at your slit that only seems to pulse and beg under his touch.

You had never found these silly metaphors enticing with the men of the city, even the entertainers with their pretty words could have never lured you this far down. Yet, here is different, here is cold and lonely and wild: a culmination of all that he is, incarnation of the earth and man and a desperate hunt.

“You are ready for me,” your god hums, pleased, as he coats himself in your arousal, sticky like warm sap. The sounds of his toying with you are something you should be accustomed to now, with him, but still makes your face warm. Not with shame, only a quiet desperation. “Beautiful little goddess...”

It’s summer here; winter tears its claws right out of your flesh when the sun itself sinks inside. The turning of seasons is natural, so dreadfully normal you’ve never bat an eye until you could physically feel it: the strip of your own apprehension tossed into a steaming sea, the dewy wetness all but drowning you entirely.

And it’s König who loses himself first, a sound so pitiful carving its way out of him you would almost believe him to be hurt if not for the way he throbs inside of you. He feeds it, a stuttering twitch of his hips as he slowly brings you toward him by your hips. Far too large to properly bottom out but encumbered and ecstatic by the sensation around him. Tighter than any sheath, but a weapon pushes through you all the same- inch by loving inch, until he manages to fully fill you with himself.

“I don’t want to hurt you, little one.“ Each word is torn from him, punctuated heavily by the shallow movement of his body and the drag of a demanding cock. Restraint is a peculiar thing hovering over him, his brow pinched as though forcing himself to concentrate on not ripping you apart where you lie.

“You’re not hurting me..,” you sigh as your hands find his shoulders, fingernails dimpling the skin there. If anything the urgency is only shared.

When your hips push back to meet him, the lead is dropped, another surrender. Too much trust for a man deserving of none of it.

His response is a breathy groan, mouth finding your shoulder as his hands drift to pull your hips upward to better meet him. Teeth find purchase along your flesh, gentle as he can be, but grinding and desperate to leave a mark, a piece of him behind.

It’s almost with a fury that he stuffs himself into you then, his jaw going slack and eyes wild, hands grasping at every inch of your pillowy flesh that he can reach.

Never could König have looked more beautiful than now, once starved and now tasked, for and now with you. His gaze trails from where your thighs tremble around him, to where the sap pools and nature builds up its own obscene choir at your togetherness… and then, to your face where his gaze only shatters into softness.

Something bubbles right against your lash line, a stray tear, overwhelmed by the feel of the giant ravishing you, pulling you down from your world of jewels and pillars to his own devoid of anything but need.

His head dips immediately, tongue running up the length of your cheek, a hand falling away to pry open your already parted thigh as he licks at and fucks into you like something truly feral. He coos his praises against your mouth, parted and whining, claims a new kingdom all for himself in you, of you.

You feel how the temples must, trodden through and left with gifts, blood and honey and fire as the muscles of your thighs begin to tense. Instinct spurs you to catch his lip between your teeth, push your hips back to laboriously furl around him.

His pace comes to a halt, settling to only grind himself so deeply within you that you feel the last of the stars begin to die out in the recesses of your skull, dim and dumbly smothered until they reignite in a blinding wave of white. König does not give you the time to settle, only spears into you with a renewed fervor as you cinch around him, furthering your rapture to a point that is almost agonizing.

He chases his own end with the same famished glare as before, stares right into your eyes as you pull iron from his lip and cast it into the fire of your waiting mouth. The sting, the bliss, only makes him whimper, a sound so small and choked its unfathomable to have come from a man who slams into you as though you were paid for.

You lick into his mouth in a way so tentative and fragile he immediately crashes down, blankets you in the strength of his arms and kisses you in turn: so soft and chaste it’s uncanny in this moment. His groan of defeat only comes when he stills fully, buried to the hilt, thrumming and shivering through his own release. Honey and seafoam, the rise of a tide touching earth to brim and spill past your joining.

He chases the feeling for several moments longer, bucking his hips sloppily as he lies atop your spent form, barely coherent when he mutters nonsensical praises into your hair, against your neck, the corner of your mouth- any place he can think to leave a kiss.

“… everything,” he mutters when he lies atop you fully, satisfied where he nestles his head into the fur below you both. “Everything I have ever wanted.”

The day passes on like this. Even as his men maneuver about camp, preparing to hunt or practice with their stolen weapons. The only thing König seems keen on doing is bringing you to ruin, repairing you with kisses pressed into your hair, along your cheek.

He leaves you only twice as the day drags onward. Once to gather you a meal of something meaty roasted over the fire, what remained of a boar, a gathering of dried fruit, and water from a small flask. You’re famished and exhausted by the thrill of being shoved down into the fur to tolerate him three times over already. The twinkle in his eye is nothing short of mischievous when you do finally tell him that you need to rest after eating.

After a bout of playfully shoving him away, you only find yourself on top of him, then. He seemed entirely unashamed, more hurried and desperate than before as he bucks at you like a wild horse, voicing his praises and spitting out such sugary sweet nonsense about how you would carry his son and only ever experience him, you almost felt shy. A curled finger hooks under your jaw to force you to look down at him, lose yourself in the vast, uneasy sea of his eyes while he floods you with his seed again. Finally, he seems sated, pulls you down to lie atop him.

König promises you that he will find your mother, that he will take care of you as no other has or ever could, while stroking along your back. He tells you of the mountains, the trees, the animals and the men who live amongst them and inside of them.

He tells you of the sea when you ask, how the sand is softer and sticks as if it never wants you to go. In turn, you tell him that he must be like the sea then, never fully parting from you, leaving his trace imprinted upon your skin with teeth rather than sand. A sea that loves instead of hungers, one that presses you onto your back to wash over you to steal the very breath from your chest and push it back with a kiss.

— — —

The wilderness is cruel. Wild things lurk in the brush and occasionally you pass by other settlements. Less friendly than the small band you have grown accustomed to. You’re always urged to shush, then have yourself tucked further against König while he speaks low and threatening to any would-be bandits. Only once has that resulted in a death, but not to one of König’s own. You didn’t watch when the man with the red hair carved a hole through the trespasser, just squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face into a waiting bicep.

Days pass on horseback, your legs feel stiff and clumsy, and there are no amount of pelts serving as makeshift saddles that could ever help the ache that shoots up from your pelvis. It serves no aid at all that, when riding ahead or too far behind the other men, König takes this newfound intimacy between you two to be a liberty. Regardless of your formation, he never ceases looking at you as though his only wish is to devour you whole.

Those times are often quick, palm pressed over your mouth as he dutifully breeds you beneath the sun, in the softest patch of withering wild grass or barren land available. You melt into him, part your legs like a wife rather than some skittish woman that he himself has whisked away. Each time, he whispers his praises, professes his love in more creative ways, covers you in so many kisses you feel a bit dazed by the time the ordeal is through.

Then, you’re righted back onto the horse with König at your back, the most horribly endearing smile plastered upon his face.

It’s not much of a surprise that his men do start their caterwauling at some point during the journey to wherever— past dormant trees and approaching the silhouettes of hills so tall and vast you’re certain that they must be the mountains you have heard of, even if you had yet to properly see them. König had made it perfectly clear just what you are to him in his coarse words to his companions, but never directly to you. They do not mock your union, but they do often give you strange looks, particularly at your tummy while they discuss you with their leader.

There’s nothing there, you’re sure of that much, but you shoot them your angriest glare anyway and raise your chin to look forward instead. Their talk of the possibility of a little “prinz” does not distract you from your own thoughts, drifting up to scrape the sky just like the peaks of the mountains.

“So that is where the gods live?,” you ask, mostly to yourself as you curl your fingers into the horse’s reins. There’s subdued laughter from either side of you, and you almost shrink at the thought of making a fool of yourself before these brutes. It wouldn’t be the last time, surely. You couldn’t even bring yourself to fully commit to the idea of there being any sort of vast and ethereal field awaiting you when you die anymore; it was already here before you, painted in the color of evergreen and winter blossoms.

König doesn’t laugh, at least. Only places his palm over the front of your neck and guides your head back to look up to him, gives a toothy grin when your eyes light up just from the sight. It was difficult not to when you’ve been fed and pleasured incessantly by him. You reason that your punishment for forsaking all that you once knew must assuredly be your own mind deteriorating to feel the way that you do.

“They are right here,” he says, so quiet and sweet, gesturing between the two of you. He had no interest in your former gods, of what he seems to view as stories for children, but he listens as you tell him the significance of such lofty places cloaked in fog, mist and trees.

His hand finds your cheek, savors in the feel of your skin against his thumb while you tell him of your misplaced belief in him being some son of a war god that he’s never even known, much less prayed to. He then reminds you of the woman he seems certain could have been your mother, says that surely she must have been wed to the shallow of a sparkling lake to birth something as lovely as you.

The men regroup after some time, stilling their horses and your rowdy mare still tethered behind one of the others to speak, access the distance from here and their destination while sipping wine from leather flasks and putting weapons back in their proper places. You listen on, picking up on the few words you did understand from their language, but ultimately gather nothing from it all.

“Where are you taking me?,” you hazard as you try to push yourself forward in a subtle reminder that yes, you were there too, and woman or not you had a right to know.

“Home,” König gruffs simply in response, gathering you back into his arms and taking the reins from your hands. His chin rests atop your head, the fingers of his free hand petting your side in an attempt to snuff out any further questioning. “You will like it.”

Home. Home to the place he had claimed you would find your mother; to foreign woods and wild downs, sprawling hills and little shacks covered in sticks and leather instead of the villas with their terracotta tiles.

You didn’t even know that you had a place to return to at all, not now. Your eyes catch his, though, and you know then just what it truly must feel like to belong someplace. Never had home been Gaius, reduced to smoldering ash in some divine reckoning, but it had always been with someone you truly believe you have wanted. Had you ever even been allowed to want before him..?

Your brow pinches as you shift to rest your head against the broad back behind you, held fast by the iron grip around your waist. The clouds drift by above, the sun casts a warmth over your face and you fall into comfort, into promise.

— — —

Barbarian settlements are strange.

There are no paved streets here crowded with people and decay, no hallowed and looming temples hungry and waiting for sacrifices. The columns are tree bark and very much alive with twisting limbs and growths of green that never seemed to dull even in the winter, not the stiff and lifeless marble you had grown accustomed to.

The homes are pieced together with wood, clay, anything that could be used with no clear rhyme or reason to their architecture. Goats wander about, bleating out for food or ramming into one another for play. The children don’t sit in houses studying or wander from stall to stall snatching and scurrying off, they play and work. There is a strange contentment here, too, something that feathers on the wind as it does the same on each face that you pass,

Everyone seems to have a place, a thing to be, and you feel like the world’s most delicate and forgotten pearl amidst these people who do not even seem to pay you any mind. If anything, they only seem pleased to see the man with his arm cloaked over your shoulders. They smile to him, greet him in their strange words and dip their heads as though he truly were some king.

Maybe he was, to them, to the wild people with no true reasoning to have any sort of monarchy. They barely had land to claim, much less rule over.

You’re not paraded around as a slave: he cups your jaw and lifts your head when your gaze falls to the dirt and dust below your feet, chides you in a rough whisper about how a Königin should present herself. The people do acknowledge you then, with looks of awe and offerings of dried flowers pressed into your palms and tucked behind your ear, Roman bronze dropped at your feet. You look the part of a proper queen too, when you flash them all your loveliest smile and nestle closer to your giant of flame and earth.

Thoughts of your past in the city come to mind when you note their lack of conveniences. Even the dread of forsaking your own gods briefly leaves you halting midstep before a firm hand urges you forward. König’s warmth comes as a comfort now more than ever when your thoughts do eventually circle back to a guilt, heavy and dreadful: the picture of Juno’s altar forgotten and burned away weeks of travel behind you.

“You will like it here,” he mumbles, trailing the same hand up to the back of your neck as he repeats the words he spoke only days prior on your journey. You could, you will, but it all feels so different that your pulse seems to triple its racing.

Your fingers graze over the dried flowers in your hand, sweet smelling as you trace over each petal to center yourself, take back that prideful smile that was in place just a moment ago.

If you’re to run amok, you may as well enjoy it.

You settle, regain your pace and that forced look of utter contentment at his side.

At least, until he begins to speak again.

“I will kill them all if you prefer we be alone,” König whispers into your ear, has the audacity to nip at your lobe, and does not even bother drawing back as if those words were meant to make you wet and pliant for him. All sense of reason must have left you entirely, because a shiver rips its way up each knob of your spine. “Would that please you?”

“No… Do not jest,” you grit out, staring only forward and not offering so much as a glance toward the beast at your side, even as his hand drifts down to palm at your breast.

“I am not.” He laughs, breathy and low when he finds your nipple already hard, thumb grazing over it as though this act of exhibitionism was as natural as any of the other things his madness compels him to do. “I will give you anything. Even blood, meine Göttin.”

Surely… you should be flattered that his loyalty is reserved only for you, but there’s no appeasement held in the glare that you shoot him as you pry his hand away from your chest. He gives you the look of a kicked stray then, even a pout so foreign on a face so scarred, you may have even chuckled if you were in better spirits, but he does relent. His hand drops back to his side and he detached from you after pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You’re led to a shack larger than the others, but more or less in the same state. It’s simple, built solidly with thick carved wood and packed to prevent weather seeping its way in. It’s humble in a way, far more humble than any ruler’s you’ve only imagined. A bench, a table, a mattress likely stolen away from some Roman soldier’s tent. There’s nothing particularly special about it, but it smells like König, like the trees and the earth in a way that is comforting.

It takes a moment for it to fully register that this is what he had meant by home, not the people and their affairs outside, only this place. Only him. A temple all your own that you imagine he must wish to fill with love and children and an abundance of gifts he may steal away all for you.

His men bring in what little of the supplies remained, stuffed away in a corner and voluntarily relinquished; even if it means they’ll be fending for themselves like the others in the village rather than feasting on stores, they only seem happy. The red-haired one even flashes you a contented look of admiration on his way out, as though you just being there was enough to soothe and patch some void here.

That may have been the case.

When the door is shut and all falls to silence, the barbarian king kneels before you. His hands find your hips, thumbs grinding gentle circles along them and further down to your thighs, your calves, to everywhere that aches. A gentle sort of worship that coaxes soft sighs and a buzzing of flesh from you.

König brings you to the mattress when your eyelids begin to flutter, exhaustion settling over you in full when you’re lifted and brought toward his chest. You could fall asleep in his hold alone, but you settle to only rest your head there and reach up along his vastness to rake your fingers through his wild hair.

Your voice tells him that you do like it here, with him, in this strange place circled by withering ferns and trees so infinite that you could never hope to find your way away without him taking your hand and navigating through. Your touch tells him the words that you dare not speak, a kiss to voice that you too would burn away everything if it only meant that you could share in this at his side, a mimicry of his massage along his own shoulder to whisper a great confession of adoration and boundless promises.

— — —

When the ferns and flowers begin to grow again throughout the spring and into the summer, you find yourself accustomed to everything. You aid the women in caring for their children, though you begrudgingly swear that it is not for practice whatsoever. The stitching and cooking that is done here feels far less harrowing— you do not put it off and leave it in a heap upon the floor as you would have in the city. There’s no looming dread of what’s to come when you perfect your work: you’re gifted only smiles, blessings and gifts.

Though the woman König had claimed to be your mother is not here, you ask him to recount the way she looked and spoke to you often on quiet nights, where his hands drift over you and his voice comes in a whisper. She may not have even existed at all, some lost spirit amidst the trees that wails and cries and leads men like him to their destinies. Your heart only tears when you begin to wonder if Juno herself had imparted such a quest to him. Save the lost woman that she favored so much, grant him some divine luck and intoxicating charm to ensure your safety and happiness.

He does not understand when you gather up honey and blossoms to pray over, but he does sit at your side and listen when you whisper your thanks to this new altar. Kisses the crown of your head when you’re through and lures you back into an embrace where he reminds you that he knew what he needed to do the moment that you met at the stream. No other woman could have swayed him the way that you have.

His offerings are only to you, even after such a length of time has passed. There’s no goddess that he kneels for other than the one that sleeps at his side and tells him of her dreams.

The day he gifts you his seax is one that resonates more than even the necklaces and gowns of silk and linen. It feels heavy in your hands, the blade almost as soft as gossamer when your fingers trail along it, though it does not yield. It’s only well polished and freshly sharpened. The handle bears a strange carving in it now, one of two wolves staring up at a broad moon. It breaks something inside to know that even he does find some things sacred: beasts, the glow of an untouched paradise and you.

“Why are you giving me this?,” you manage to whisper as your diligently ghost over the carvings in reverent repetition. “Don’t you need it? For hunting and fighting…”

“You like it?” It’s impossible not to notice the cocky expression on his face that tells you full well he’s recounting that experience. You liked it then, certainly, but it wasn’t as if you had any use for it in such a way when he kept you satisfied enough with himself.

“Yes… but it’s yours.”

He shrugs then, a great lift of his shoulders as you’re pulled to him with a careful grip to the wrist holding the weapon.

“Will keep you safe,” he huffs against your neck, leaving a kiss there when you sheath the seax at the strap you had also been gifted pulled taught along your hip.

You didn’t even know how to use the thing properly, and you were not quite fond of the idea of chasing down rabbits or puncturing another human with it. Your concerns fall on deaf ears when you’re led out into the surrounding forest to a thicket of wild raspberries. Your wrist is steadied by a firm hand as König diligently teaches you to carve away limbs heavy with fruit without actually bringing any real harm to the plant itself.

There are many things to forage this season, some you had never even heard of before he explains their significance to your wonder-filled face. You hadn’t thought him stupid, not truly, but it still comes as a surprise that he seems to know so very much.

When you find yourself seated beside a slow-moving stream, a ripe berry crushed between your teeth, you’re finally allowed to put your new blade away and set it aside on moss-covered stones.

“You should keep it close. A bear might want to eat you, hm?,” he playfully chides behind you, lifting your drab little gown up and over your head. As if to further his point, his teeth rake over your pulse, applying just enough pressure to draw a whine from your lips.

“You are not a bear,” you huff and turn to pull away his tunic, pressing a kiss over the scar he now dons just above his heart.

“Ja…” He lowers his head again to kiss along your neck, trailing a heat up to your ear as he maneuvers you into the water to bathe.

Your foraging and banter go forgotten, and a different sort of howling fills the air shrouded in tree limbs. There are no wolves or wind, only two so feverishly desperate and in love that any other with their dowries and arrangements would find it even more compelling than the Empire itself.

He sinks into you when you’re brought to your knees, bellows his contentment when he brushes your wet hair away from your face and dives forward to cover you fully, bury you in a world of love and sweetness. Even when the act is done, König does not pull away, only lies you back along to shore and tucks you further against him.

You remain chittering and laughing until the sky begins to reflect the very stars you see in his eyes, glittering constellations that seem to flicker and echo the steady beat of his own heart as you lie against his chest.

The summer wedding that the fortune-teller had once spoken of seemed to already take place here. There’s no need for a lectus or some grand display to reveal to others that you’ve united, it comes in the stillness and shared contentment when your voices begin to quiet, and at last you resign yourself to tell him that you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you.

The final flurry of surrender comes out as a soft whisper, one that only leaves you with your knees folded back to your chest and an insatiable giant hugging his gratitude and love into your ear with each graceless snap of his hips.

He drags you down to your own ruin, spells his own with haste and what comes as a twist between a dispatch of tears and a sigh. You can’t recall ever seeing him cry, not even now as he burrows against your neck and shakily breathes against your shoulder, muttering such nonsense about how he would still take you up and into the sky if only you would continue to let him stay with you like this.

“Always,” you murmur fondly, cradling him as closely as possible. Inside, outside, embedded into your very flesh you feel him near. He does not pull out from you this night, only falls asleep in your embrace, cloaks you from the breeze over the water with his own heat. You follow suit, petting at him as though he’s far smaller than his massive weight suggests. He shifts just enough to not fully crush you beneath him, just as you begin to drift off.

When morning does come, König is already stood at your side, staring off into the distance with an expression that only foretells of something you’re certain you will want no part in. He shushes you when you part your lips to speak, nervously scrounging up your gown and the strap holding your gifted weapon. There are no protests from you, and only the babbling of the stream and sounds of distant yelling break up the silence.

You don’t need to ask to know what’s occurring. Just as you had predicted before the Romans had come to dismantle the village just as they had many others before, take the women as slaves and force the children to learn and take up arms for their empire. You had never thought of the violence before when it occurred, when you saw the faces of those miserable women at the sides of people they could never afford to feel any fondness toward. You had always been lucky and blind.

König, however, must have only known wraith. His fingernails dig into his palms, nostrils flared and expression pensive.

“Wartet hier.”

He does not even hesitate as he begins to move, leaving you behind along the peaceful shore. As if to spur you forward, the shallow water rises to lap at your ankles, and still you do not budge. Your hands feel heavy, encumbered by the seax still set in its sheath, and only then does it dawn on you that König had not even had a weapon his person. What good would he even be without one? When so many men armed with sharpened swords and spears had come for his head…

Though fear creeps in, subdues your limbs with its stiffness, rakes fangs of pure ice along every pulsing vein held within you… you can not bring yourself to flee or stay put. You follow, quiet as a wood mouse as you walk along the forest with trembling hands clutching a weapon you almost hope is not too late to save your home, your heart.

There’s no clear trail, no sign of König, not even a shadow or a whisper that may belong to him. Instead there are shouts and the heavy smell of smoke. The gray billows up, more imposing than even the oaks and pines. The only comfort you will yourself to take is the fact that the words you can make out are Germanic, not Latin. Not all is lost, not yet.

You steel yourself and push your resolve to the forefront of your mind, creeping ever closer with careful but steps far more swift. You wind past throning brush and sprawling vine, past trees but familiar and not until you finally cross over from forest to the tall grass lining the edges of the village.

There lies chaos you expect, and that which you do not. Some of the cabins have gone up in flame, fire that coils and spreads to set your nerves alight with memory and dread. There are men fighting at the heart of it all, weapons slick with blood dripping down to the fallen at their feet. The women and children have all fled or have been taken captive, you couldn’t be certain amongst all that was already occurring around you and beyond. You couldn’t even count your enemies, a smaller army no doubt, the arrogance of the Empire knew no bounds. Twenty men to take down one was substantial enough when the others could be used for further conquests.

And there is no sign of König.

You feel numb when no matter where you look you can’t seem to catch sight of him, and how easy a task that should have been given his stature. The seax is pulled from its sheath when grief begins to settle, and the tears that threaten to spill are forced back with a grimace. There was still some hope, you knew. The village was not so small that you could map all of it from the small lump of a hill, but that desire to find him, bare your own teeth and fight at his side to protect what was yours brims up and chokes back the fear harbored in your chest.

Lady or wolf, you cared not. You would lose your titles just as he would if it came down to it. When the histories speak of how that city burned, how a king without a name brought the Empire to kneel if only for a moment before they sought revenge, you would be written in ink alongside it. A devotion so strong echoed in each page, as a barbarian queen that chose to keep her heart and lose her head.

But it doesn’t come to that. There’s another woman stood at König’s side when you do find him, wielding a stolen sword from one of the opposing soldiers as sweat and blood paint his face.

Unharmed and unknowing of the presence at his side, a mirage carved of smoke she was, his eyes stared out towards where the blade struck while her eyes only settled over you. Your breath catches when your gaze moves from König to her and you do find a resemblance: the way that her hair, the same color as your own frames her face, her frame, the way that her nose shapes, even the expression upon her face.

The mother he spoke of, the feral love and protectiveness outspoken and proud in her eyes. You do not recognize this woman, even amidst the cluster of sparse memories in your mind. Not until now had you ever seen her, but the feeling you’re gifted then… a roaring settling in your chest to extinguish all apprehension tells all.

As the last of the Romans is struck down by König himself, a blade sunk so deep into the other’s stomach as the other man spits out a gurgled wail, the woman only seems to fade out into nothing, replaced by the backdrop of the trees surrounding. Nothing left behind in the wake of the place she once walked apart from fallen soldiers and a trail of blood and König, safe as he could be.

When you come to him, teary-eyed and fretful, your roaming fingers do not catch on a single gash. The blood painted over his face, neck, chest is none of his own. He’s well, just as the other men from the village as they rush to snuff out the flames and clear away the bodies.

Though König pants heavily and his eyes are still wild, mind momentarily lost to the thrumming adrenaline in his veins, your touch seems to settle him greatly. The sword falls from his hands to clatter in the dust and muck, curling around you to pull you in. You think he should be angry that you hadn’t listened when he ordered you to stay, but he only seems as grateful as you to find his other half alive and longing still. Always.

You tell him of the woman as you sob into his chest, describe her and her vanishing as best you could in your own muffled voice. He grins, strokes your hair as though he truly believes every word even with how ridiculous it all sounds. There are things far more demanding to focus on now, and eventually you fall to silence as he holds you there.

Your home still stands, built just far enough off from the rest that its managed to avoid the battle entirely. Untouched, except from inside. The altar you had dedicated to Juno is gone, vanished just like the woman you had seen before. The scent of cinnamon hangs in the air, misplaced and unannounced, but a comfort all the same. You smile to yourself, bittersweet but comforting, with tears drying upon your face.

— — —

The village takes time to rebuild.

You lose time just as much as you lose sleep helping out with the endless tasks. König, thinking himself chivalrous, or perhaps hinting at what your future may entail if he continues to ravage you as though he would die without your warmth, never allows you to carry anything heavy. Even clay pots filled with water from the stream are swiftly taken from your hands. Gods forbid you even attempt to aid in cooking over the fires, either. He pulls you away with a hand clasped over your mouth and nose, delicately caressing your face and reminding you to be careful.

Something has changed. What you knew to be love before only seems to double with each passing day. He fusses and dotes over you endlessly, ensuring that you’re well fed, trailing behind you to bathe and it isn’t even just for the chance to sink into your cunt.

Often, he sits with you in his lap, guiding a wet cloth up to gently wash you, toys with your damp hair beneath his fingers, tells you stories of his own adventures and the people who traveled alongside him. Not of the hundred wives his men had boasted about him having, a ridiculous statement only meant to make you pine for him more than you already had, you supposed. He even tells you, sheepishly, that most women seemed afraid of him, but never you.

When you do make love, it’s an act of endless desperation. Along the bank of the stream, your shared bed, against any tree he deems fit enough to not budge beneath your shared weight, and even once in a field of wild blooms you two had found along a foraging trek. The floral aroma had kissed your skin each place he had, left you more doughy and sweet even as you took to conquer him, straddled over his hips with your head thrown back to the wind. You laughed with him when it was through, curled your hand beneath his chin to you with the rough feeling of his unshaven hair.

Everything— each new thing you learn and see with König as your guide only seems to melt away any wall you put up. Your life before only seems to fade from memory, that lonely bitterness consumed by the well of love he’s pushed you into.

When autumn comes and the trees begin to turn, each wealth of green faded and given way for yellow and red, your mare has finally become more docile and tame. You’re not even sure who to thank for it, for the way she struts about with giddy children on her back and doesn’t fuss when even you will yourself to settle over her saddle.

The saddle like all else in your life only seems softer, stitched together with leather, a cushion made of a rabbit’s pelt and stuffed full with straw and down so soft you don’t even dread the idea of the long ride to come.

The mountains, here, surrounding the valley and the village are wild and beautiful, still layered near to their peaks in abundant fields of late-blooming flowers. The stars still hang above, twinkling and glittering as if only to silently deliver their blessings for your coming journey. It is only the sea that you’ve yet to venture toward, the last on the list of honeyed promises König has made to you.

Your luggage is packed and spread between the two horses, your mare and his stallion. There are blankets and preserved food, light posts to set up a tent someplace a distance from the shore, even a pearl dangling from a thin chain that König dutifully places on your neck. It’s no exchange of rings, but you clutch the little gem tight as you will yourself not to cry. There was no need to be so sentimental not now, not after you’ve already shared so many moments far more tender.

The seax dangles at your hip, catching the glow of the sun above when you pull it free and polish it alongside König as he does with his pilfered sword. He shows you how to use a whetstone, delicately maneuvering your hand to sharpen the blade before dousing the thing in oil, makes you swear not to accidentally nick yourself when you’re inevitably dragged in the throes of some hunt at his side.

You’ve yet to use it for that purpose, but going alone means you’ve no choice but to offer your support… even with the knowledge that he wouldn’t actually allow you to do much at all, frustrating as that was.

When morning comes, you say your goodbyes to the village. You’re thrown flowers both pressed and new, petals latching to the fur of the pelt tied over your shoulders. König receives wine, far more useful than the delicate little blossoms that you brush away with shy smiles and glassy eyes.

The language is easier to understand now, when the others offer you great fortune on your travels, the women speaking greatly of your fertility despite the way it makes your nose scrunch in distaste. They call you Königin, only that, never any name you’ve offered for them to use. Perhaps even above the name the people of the city called you by it is more fitting.

You settle into the saddle with König atop his stallion next to you, reach for the reins when he flashes you a wary look, tells you that you will ride slow and he will keep you safe in case anything does happen to occur. You only think to remark the same, gesturing toward the weapon strapped to your hip, smirking when he snorts in amusement.

“Are you ready to depart?,” you ask him as you reach a hand out to trail along his arm, heart thumping wildly when his gaze only begins to further soften. You almost fear he may begin to cry, just as overwhelmed and sweetly pacified as you feel now. “We can stay a while longer if not.”

“Nein… we still need to plan for the stars after,” he whispers as he takes hold of your hand, interlocks your fingers and brushes against each knuckle with the pad of his thumb before bringing it toward his chest.

The moment is broken when the horses begin to huff in anticipation. You don’t get the chance to remind him that you still see each constellation he’s shown to you in the glimmer of his eyes, but you know well enough by now that he would only tell you the same in turn. Always your only other.

#könig #könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig #konig x you #cod fanfiction #okay i lied two hours early but i’m tired of looking at words today #f: only other

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kwanisms · 4 months

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» stray kids masterlist | collab masterlist «

➮ hyunjin x f!reader

wc: 20.1k

summary: Y/N never expected to run into her ex again, especially not at a holiday party of all places. Nor did she expect for him to offer to drive her home when her ride bails on her. She definitely did not expect Hyunjin’s car to get stuck in the snow and for them to have to spend the night at an elderly couple’s house where they, unsurprisingly, have to share a room and even more unsurprisingly, there’s only one bed.

genres/themes/au: angst, smut; holiday themes, rekindled relationship, exes to lovers, one bed; non idol au

warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, mention of previous alcohol abuse, flashbacks of toxic relationship, mentions of arguing and fighting (nothing physical except pushing and MC hitting Hyunjin's chest), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special tags: @millennial-fangirl @twisted-tales-of-all @staytinyville @skyechild

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @surveilenceysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3 @tigerhoshi25 @chocolate-scoups @spilled-coffee-cup @aaniag @ayoo-bangtan @walkingtravesty97 @yevene @certifiedmoa @nottkwiwin

stray kids taglist: @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @smhlino @cutiespaghetti @peterparkoure @chubbyanarkiss @anyamaris @nattisbored @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @vampiirose @plants-w0rld @0325tiny @justiny @lacie220900 @dementedaly to be contin.

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a/n: my first piece was nothing but tooth rotting sweet fluff but I knew from the get go when I picked Hyune for this collab that I wanted to write angst for him. That being said, NO. I WILL NOT BE WRITING A SEQUEL TO THIS TO GIVE THEM A PROPER HAPPY ENDING. The ending is up to reader interpretation. So please do not ask for a part 2 because there will not be one. Thank you so much for reading and joining us on this collab! The Tales from Camp Holiday Special begins now and once that’s over, I will be focusing on Under Your Skin. If you are a SVT fan, you can read the OG Tales from Camp here and the Holiday Special here. And for those of you who are SKZ fans, consider checking out Under Your Skin here. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, slight voice kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, etc.), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), lowkey lovemaking, biting (f receiving), slight possessive sex, soft dom!Hyunjin, sub!Reader, it’s hot and heavy and Hyunjin is clearly very much in love still. If I missed any, pls let me know!

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“Promise me you won’t ditch me the moment the doors open,” you whined, looking at your friend who gave you a blank look. “You know I can’t promise you that!” Kaia said as she raised her fist to knock on the door. It opened a moment later, warmth reaching out to pull you both into the house. You clung to your friend as you removed your coats and they were hung up and put in a room off the foyer.

The house was a typical suburban American home. The walls were an off white color, decorations like something out of a Christmas catalog. The partygoers were dressed in varying shades of red, green, white, gold, and the like.

The white vaulted ceilings reflected light to make the rooms appear even larger and brighter than they already were. A massive fifteen foot pine tree dominated the far corner of the living room, professionally decorated with gold and red baubles, strings of white lights sweeping across the branches and small faux icicles hung from the tips of the branches. Under the tree lay a red tree skirt with gold embroidery, perfectly wrapped gifts lying atop the red fabric.

You followed Kaia further, not wanting to lose sight of her as you made your way to the kitchen.

The open concept floor plan into the kitchen made the already large space seem just even larger. The white quartz counters contrasted with the dark gray shaker cabinets with golden hardware. A massive kitchen island separated the spaces, decorated with an assortment of snacks.

Along the wall leading into a breakfast nook was a table with even more food and at the back of the breakfast nook room was an actual bar set up where a young woman with blonde hair curled and neatly tied back was making drinks for patrons.

In the kitchen Kaia dragged you over to the bar and ordered drinks. Once your drink was in your hand, Kaia pulled you aside and scanned the room. She waved at a few people, sipping on her drink as you eyed the food, wanting to eat something so you weren’t drinking on an empty stomach.

Before you could say anything, Kaia was downing the rest of her drink, ordering another before she looked at you. “You’re on your own,” she simply said before leaving your side and making her way across the room where she introduced herself to someone you didn’t recognize.

‘Bitch,’ you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. You made your way over to the table to grab a small plate, adding an assortment of hors d'oeuvres to it before sneaking off to the side and out of the way. You nibbled at your food, sipping your drink intermittently as you watched the party unfold around you.

It hadn’t even been your idea to come here. Kaia had begged you to come with her for a week straight until you caved and agreed but on the condition she didn’t ditch you once here.

She clearly didn’t hold up her end of the bargain.

As you ate, a couple people you did recognize came up and chatted with you politely and you felt a little better, knowing more than just your awful so-called friend. You saw a couple of people from your previous workplace as well as some old college acquaintances.

About an hour into your arrival and three White Russians later, you were exiting the bathroom when you bumped into something hard and stumbled slightly. Kaia had insisted you wore these heels and you were starting to regret letting her talk you into it. You were regretting a lot of things regarding Kaia truthfully but it wasn’t the night to get into it.

Looking up as you smoothed your dress out, you started to apologize until you saw the face of the person you’d just run into.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

The look on your ex’s face was one of pure shock. He clearly wasn’t expecting to see you either.

You turned away from him, intent on finding Kaia and leaving. This was a mistake. You never should have come here tonight. “Y/N, wait.” you heard him say, feeling his hand gently grab your arm. You pulled sharply from his grip and glared at him.

Hyunjin fell silent, holding his hand up in surrender before you stormed away to find your friend.

It didn’t take long to find her, perched on the lap of the guy she’d ditched you for as he sat on one of the pristine white couches in the living room. You weaved through the crowd, stopping by her to glare down at her. “Y/N!” she said excitedly. “I was just coming to find you! We’re about to play a game!”

You grabbed Kaia by the wrist, dragging her up and off the guy’s lap, leading her away from the group.

“Y/N, what the hell?” Kaia hissed as you pulled her to a spot near the wall. “I’m going to ask you something and I want the truth,” you started as Kaia inspected her wrist before looking up at you. “What?” she grumbled. “Did you know Hyunjin was going to be here?” you demanded.

Kaia stared blankly at you for a couple moments before speaking. “Theoretically? I knew there was a chance.” Your mild annoyance turned into blind rage. She knew he might be here and yet she still insisted you come anyway? What was her problem?

“I want to leave,” you snapped. “Now.”

Kaia scoffed, rolling her eyes and gested at the door. “Go ahead. Leave,” she replied. Your lips parted in shock. “You’re my ride, Kaia,” you reminded her. “Then I guess if you want me to drive you home, you’re gonna have to stay until I’m ready to leave.”

You glared at her. Ditching you was one thing but knowingly stranding you here was another.

“And what about him?” you hissed, throwing a dirty glance towards Hyunjin who was now nursing a drink. As if sensing you were talking about him, he looked over, meeting your gaze but only for a moment before you looked away. Kaia shrugged. “That’s your problem, babe,” she replied.

Before you could answer, she walked away, taking her previous perch and leaving you to seethe alone.

“Un-fucking-believable!” you hissed as you stormed off, making a path to the bar. If you were going to be forced to be here, might as well make the best of it and get as many free drinks as you could stomach.

You were grumbling to yourself as you waited in line, the guy in front of you kept turning to look at you though it wasn’t annoyance on his face. More like concern. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, having turned back to you. His accent caught you off guard but you nodded all the same. “Rough night?” he asked and you scoffed. “You have no idea.”

He offered a warm smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Felix,” he introduced himself. “Y/N,” you replied, shaking his hand. “Want to tell me about it over drinks?” he asked, gesturing to the bar. You couldn’t help but chuckle and nod. Once the two of you got your drinks, you stood off to the side, talking about your lives. What you did for work, how you ended up at this party.

Felix was exceedingly easy to talk to and he kept a smile on your face. He was also a pretty good dancer. You almost couldn’t find a fault with him until he tried to beat you at darts in the rec room downstairs. It’s not like you were a champion when it came to darts but he just really sucked at it.

“So tell me about Straya,” you said in a half convincing Australian accent as the two of you sat on one of the couches in the rec room, taking the place of a couple who got up to get more drinks upstairs. Felix let his arm rest on the back of the couch behind you.

“It’s hot,” Felix answered. “Really hot,” he added. “And there are spiders everywhere.” You shuddered. You hated spiders. “And they’re the really big ones,” he continued. “They’re known to catch lizards and even mice if they’re hungry and fast enough. And boy are they fucking fast,” he added with a laugh.

“Okay, enough with the spiders,” you said with a shiver. “Don’t like them?” Felix asked and you shook your head. “Absolutely not!” Felix chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “What about the roos?” you asked suddenly, making him give you a peculiar look. “The roos?” he asked.

“Yeah. The kangaroos,” you clarified. Felix let out a chuckle. “Oh, those roos!” he replied.

“Big and mean,” he answered. “The males are super territorial and they’re buff. They’re majorly jacked. They look like bodybuilders.” You covered your mouth as you let out a laugh. “What?” you asked incredulously as Felix nodded.

“They’re mean,” he replied. “They’re not cute and cuddly. They can kill. Those claws on their hands aren’t just for show. And they can kick like a kickboxer.” Your eyes widened. “Wait, really?” you asked. Felix nodded. “You don’t fuck with kangaroos. Same with koalas. They look cute and furry but they also have gnarly claws and they’ll take a swipe at you if given the chance.”

Your perception of Felix’s home continent was changing by the minute as he talked. As your cups emptied, you made your way back upstairs to get more drinks, opting to find a seat in the four seasons room off the living room where it was a little quieter.

“So,” Felix said, taking a sip of his drink and looking up at you.

“What had you so upset earlier?”

Your smile dropped a little as you let out a deep, heavy sigh.

“My friend I came with is being a real bitch right now,” you admitted. “She begged me to come to this party when I didn’t really want to in the first place. She promised if I came with her, she wouldn’t leave my side,” you continued.

“But she ditched you anyway?” Felix asked, prompting you to nod in response. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he raised his cup to his lips. “That’s a pretty shitty thing to do,” he agreed. You nodded slowly. “And that’s not all,” you added. Felix glanced up as you settled back against the cushions.

“My ex is here tonight.”

“And that’s bad, I take it?” Felix asked. You nodded.

“We broke up a couple years ago,” you started. “The relationship was… not good. We fought a lot. Constant arguing. We kept accusing the other of cheating. We were constantly at each other’s throats.” Felix nodded slowly. “Who ended it?” he asked before backtracking.

“Sorry,” he stuttered. “That’s really none of my business.” You shook your head, dismissing his apology with your hand. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I broke up with him. I knew if I didn’t do it, it would never happen so I bit the bullet and pulled the trigger.”

Felix let out a sigh. “Man,” he said softly. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “And when I asked my friend that I came with to take me home because I wanted to leave, she basically said to find my own way home.”

“Did she know he was going to be here?” Felix asked, raising his cup to his lips. “She said she knew there was a possibility,” you replied.

Felix’s jaw dropped. “What the fu- look, I’m sorry,” he started. “But you need to find better mates,” he said, shaking his head, baffled by the audacity. “Do you still want to leave?” he asked softly. You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied. “Parties just really aren’t my scene., and seeing my ex really just ruined my entire night.” Felix nodded. “No, I get it,” he replied. “I’m here cause this is actually my cousin’s place and I’m crashing here for the holidays,” he explained.

“But I think I actually might know someone who’s planning to leave soon and he lives in the same direction you’re going so maybe he can give you a ride?” Felix offered. You gave him a smile. “Really?” you asked excitedly. “That would be so amazing!”

Felix smiled at your reaction and got to his feet, holding out his free hand. “Let’s go ask him,” he said, smiling wider as you grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you up.

“Yes,” you answered. “Let’s ask!”

‘Twice in one night is enough,’ you told yourself as you stared back at Hyunjin while Felix spoke to your ex. Granted, he didn’t know the guy he was trying to ask to give you a ride was your ex-boyfriend. Felix smiled as he turned to you. “It was great meeting you,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake again. “Hyunjin’s a great guy. He’ll make sure you get home safe!” he added before bidding the two of you goodnight and moving into the next room to rejoin the party.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Hyunjin downed the rest of his soda, tossing the can and turning to you. “Did you bring a coat?” he asked nonchalantly. “I’m not leaving with you.” He ignored your words, instead getting up and fishing his phone out of his pocket.

You watched as he typed across the screen quickly and pocket the device again. “Go get your coat,” Hyunjin said softly. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not leaving with--”

He looked at you, looking slightly annoyed. “Look, either I take you home or you’re stuck at this party. It’s your choice,” he explained. “But I am leaving.” You stared at one another, both unmoving, unblinking until you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you snapped. “But I need to get my stuff out of Kaia’s car.”

Hyunjin nodded and gestured forward. “After you.”

You managed to get Kaia’s attention, asking for her keys so you could get your bag out of her car. She gave it up without question as you headed for the front door and got your coat from the coat room. Hyunjin was waiting on the porch for you when you exited the house and walked with you to Kaia’s car, waiting patiently while you got your bag from the back.

He took the bag from you while you ran back in to return Kaia’s keys to her and headed back out. He’d already turned on his car and backed up as close to the door as he could get without going onto the grass. He waited at the base of the steps for you, making sure you didn’t fall and helped you traverse the snow in your boots, even going so far as to open your door for you.

Once inside he returned to his side and got in, clicking his seatbelt in place as he fiddled with the temperature controls. You shivered, holding your hands in front of the heater. Hyunjin put the car in drive and slowly pulled away from the house, following the long driveway back out to the street.

It was snowing when you first arrived at the party with Kaia but more snow had accumulated, covering the roads and was starting to come down heavier as Hyunjin pulled onto the road and started driving in the direction of the city.

“Picked a hell of a day to have the party, didn’t they?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. You hummed in response, looking out the window at the scenery as Hyunjin crept along. Silence fell over you both again. “Did you want to listen to music?” Hyunjin asked softly. “Oh my god, Hyunjin, I don’t care!” you snapped.

Silence fell once more.

“Sorry,” you finally said softly. “I’m just really frustrated.”

Hyunjin nodded silently, opting not to turn the radio on.

He continued to drive carefully, remembering the last time he’d driven in snow like this. He’d managed to wreck his first car during a snowstorm and his mother had scolded him to the moon and back about how he needed to be careful. Since then, he’d been overly cautious when it came to driving in the snow.

The car reached a curve in the road and Hyunjin followed it, hands gripping the steering wheel as the back end of his car started to fishtail. “Whoa,” he mumbled. “Hyunjin!” you said, panic in your voice as the car quickly veered out of his control and slid over the edge of the road and down into a ditch.

The impact wasn’t as bad as Hyunjin expected but he was still jerked forward as the car came to an abrupt halt, nose pointing down toward the ditch. The car slowly slid sideways down the steep embankment until it finally stopped moving.

Immediately, Hyunjin put the car in park and looked around seeing nothing but white.

He turned to look at you. “Holy shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You nodded, looking around and checking yourself over. “Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’m alright. What about you?” Hyunjin exhaled in relief. “I’m fine,” he answered.

“What about the car?” Hyunjin glanced out his window. “Well, I don’t think we hit anything,” he explained as he looked around, checking his mirrors.

“I’m gonna get out and make sure,” he added.

Before you could stop him, he opened his door and got out, shutting the door behind him and walked around the car, trudging through the snow as he inspected the outside. He returned moments later, getting back into the car.

“There are no marks outside but it looks pretty stuck,” he said as he shivered, shaking the cold off.

You pulled your phone out and groaned at the no service symbol at the top of the screen. ‘Fuck.’ Hyunjin pulled his phone out and saw he also had no signal. “Shit!” he cursed. “What do we do?” you asked softly, looking up at him. Hyunjin looked around before looking in his rearview mirror.

“Hey, we passed a house, right?” he asked, turning to look out the back windshield. “Uh, I think so?” you replied. “Maybe like a mile back?” Hyunjin nodded, looking at your face. “Okay,” he said softly and turned in his seat.

You watched as he reached into the back seat, digging around for something. He produced a hat and scarf, wrapping the scarf around his neck and pulling the beanie on. He then reached behind your seat and pulled out a blanket. “I’m going to walk to the house to see if anyone is home,” he said as he threw the blanket over your lap.

“You stay here and keep warm,” he added. “I’ll be back with help or good news,” he added as he opened his door and got out, shutting the door behind him. You watched as he climbed up the embankment and started to walk down the street in the direction of the house you’d both seen.

You sighed, pulling the blanket closer around you, a shiver running up your spine as you looked outside the car. Snow was still coming down, joining the blanket already on the ground. You curled further into yourself, trying to preserve whatever warmth you could manage.

You heard the doors lock and readjusted the blanket to cover your legs and looked around his car. It was the same car you remembered him having just before the break up. The one he’d been so excited and proud of because it was the first car he bought when he started his job.

Another shiver went up your spine and you hoped Hyunjin would find help, even shocked that he offered to go find it. In the past, he never would have done so, a memory surfacing of your attempt to go to the beach on a road trip. You managed to get lost on back roads as Hyunjin refused to ask for directions.

[flashback - four years ago]

“Babe, why don’t we just stop and ask for directions?” you asked, looking up from the map. You glanced out the windshield at the rolling farmland surrounding you which was certainly not the beach which you should have been at by that point.

“No,” Hyunjin said flatly, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned white. He was leaning forward, chest almost pressing against the steering wheel as he tried to get a glance at any sign possible.

You glanced back down at the map, squinting as you tried to figure out where you’d gone wrong. Where had you made the wrong turn? Where were you headed now? You looked back up, turning to look at Hyunjin. “I really think we need to stop and ask for directions,” you started.

“Goddamn it, Y/N, will you just shut the hell up and let me drive?!”

You flinched at the volume of his voice and fell silent. You folded up the map and placed it on the dashboard, leaning back in your seat and looking out the window to keep your boyfriend from seeing the tears that threatened to spill.

Minutes passed in silence as Hyunjin continued to drive, turning down random roads, only to hit a dead end and have to turn around, growing increasingly more and more frustrated. You said nothing, instead indulging in your own sadness as you let the tears flow silently.

“Can you look at the map and see where we are?” Hyunjin asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn’t move. You heard his request but you chose to ignore it, knowing nothing you did would figure out where the hell you were. “Y/N?” Hyunjin asked, slowing to look over at you. He saw the way your arms were crossed over your chest and how you refused to look at him.

“Did you hear me?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He really didn’t like it when you ignored him.

“Yes,” you replied softly. “But what difference would it make?” you asked, still not turning to look at him.

“We haven’t seen any signs in hours so I can’t even pinpoint those on the map. We’re lost, Hyunjin.”

You heard him inhale sharply. “So it’s my fault, right?” he snapped and you finally turned to look at him, giving him a glance at your tear stained cheeks. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you retorted. “It is your fault. I told you we should have stopped and asked for directions when we first got off the main road but you refused to listen to me. You just kept going, insisting we didn’t need help. You aren’t a road map. You don’t have a GPS built into your head!”

Hyunjin let out a groan, rolling his eyes. “Well, will you check your phone, then?” he asked.

You grabbed it from the console and unlocked the screen, holding it up for him to see. “No service. How the fuck am I supposed to look it up when I have no service?” Hyunjin turned to glare at you. “Have you never heard of offline maps?” he snapped. “Yeah, you have to download them before you lose signal!”

“Well excuse me for not knowing that! I’m not some know-it-all bitch like you!”

Silence fell over the both of you as your stomach sank. “Stop the car,” you muttered.

Hyunjin looked back at you. “What?” he asked softly. “Stop the car,” you said a little louder. Hyunjin glanced out the windows before looking back over at you.

“You can’t be serious--”

“Stop the fucking car, Hyunjin!”

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin kept his head down, the flurries of snow hitting his hat instead of his face. He reached up to readjust the scarf around his neck to cover the lower half of his face. The cold air was sharp, biting and stinging his skin as he walked, the wind blowing through him despite his heavy coat.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed. “It’s freezing!”

As he walked, he was reminded of the time the two of you had taken a road trip to the beach and gotten lost. After an argument outside the car, he finally managed to get you back into the car and start heading back the way you’d come only to run out of gas just before you got onto the main road. He snorted as he remembered his ignorance and refusal to listen to reason.

He was young, dumb, and thought he knew everything.

He thought he was above asking for directions but he knew better now. He knew it was okay to ask for help. In that, he knew he had grown as a person at least.

[flashback - four years ago]

“Now what,” you sighed exasperatedly as the car started to sputter, slowing as Hyunjin looked down at the dashboard. His eyes scanned for an engine light or something similar but felt his heart sink as he noticed the gas gauge was sitting on the little white E.

“Shit,” he hissed. You looked up at him. “What?” you asked as the car rolled to a stop. Hyunjin cut the engine and leaned back in his seat, letting out an annoyed huff. “We’re out of gas.”

You stared at him, stunned. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He shook his head. “I wish I were.”

You hesitated before finally moving. Hyunjin watched as you grabbed your purse and phone, hastily unbuckling your seatbelt before yanking open the car door and getting out. Hyunjin opened his door and stood up, one foot still in the car as you started walking.

“Y/N, where are you going?” he called.

“I’m going to find a gas station!”

Hyunjin sighed, shutting his door and starting after you. “Not by yourself, you’re not!” he called as he jogged to catch up to you. “You can’t just walk out here in the middle of nowhere by yourself, Y/N.” You ignored him and kept walking.

He knew you were still reeling from the earlier fight.

Hyunjin caught up to you rather easily, grabbing your arm only for you to pull from his grip. “Don’t touch me!” you shouted. Hyunjin grabbed your arm again, pulling you back and turning you to face him. “Y/N,” he started as you struggled to pull out of his grip. “Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N, stop,” Hyunjin said calmly, trying to hold you in place. “Stop, stop it,” he continued.

“Y/N, stop it!” he finally shouted as he gently shook you. You stared up at him in shock before you hit his chest with your fist. “Don’t fucking yell at me!” you shouted back, hitting his chest again, albeit not very hard. Hyunjin took your face in his hands.

“Get your hands off me,” you growled, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he continued as you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry for not listening to you.” The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled and a sob escaped you.

Hyunjin pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered into your hair. “I shouldn’t have said that and I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” You cried softly into his chest. “I’m just frustrated,” he continued. “I know that’s no excuse. But I am sorry.”

“I got us into this mess and I’m sorry.”

He continued to hold you tightly, swaying the both of you back and forth until your sobs subsided. Hyunjin pulled back, taking your face in his hands, thumbs wiping your tears away. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go find a gas station,” he said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin lifted his head, relief flooding his body as he caught sight of the driveway he’d driven past earlier. He continued down the drive, leaving deep footprints as he trudged through the deep snowfall.

As he continued, trees lining the driveway, lights from the house came into view. He continued to amble through the snow, making his way to the front porch. He hoped it wasn’t too late as he carefully climbed the steps. Hyunjin raised his fist and knocked loudly, quickly tucking his hands into his pockets.

It took a couple moments but through the frosted glass, Hyunjin could see shadows moving towards the door, the sound of the lock clicking before the door cracked open. “Yes?” a voice asked. Hyunjin pulled his scarf down, offering an awkward smile. “Hi,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry to disturb you so late but my car’s slid off the road and into a ditch just down the road from your driveway,” he explained.

“My friend and I don’t have service on our phones and I was wondering if I could perhaps use a phone or if you might know someone who could help us get the car unstuck?”

The door opened a bit more to reveal an older gentleman. He had gray hair, wore round spectacles and had light blue eyes. He wore a simple gray plaid button up tucked into black pants, a dark blue cardigan over the shirt. “Your friend?” he asked, looking around for a second person.

“Yeah, she’s wearing a dress and heels,” Hyunjin explained. “We’ve just come from a party down the road,” he added, anxiety starting to build. ‘What if this man just told him to leave and slammed the door in his face?’ Hyunjin was very much aware of how suspicious this sounded.

Another figure appeared, an older woman Hyunjin assumed was the man’s wife. “Oh Larry,” she said softly. She wore a white and black floral button down blouse, a khaki maxi skirt and a light pink knit cardigan over her shirt. Her silvery hair was curled and styled. Gold wire framed glasses hung around her neck.

“They need help,” she added as she joined her husband. “Where’s the car?” the man, Larry, asked. Hyunjin pointed over his shoulder. “Just a mile down from the end of your driveway,” he answered. The man nodded and moved from the door.

“Are you hurt at all?” the woman asked and Hyunjin shook his head. “No, we’re okay. Mostly just shaken up. The car seems to be fine, too,” he added. “It’s just stuck in the ditch.” The woman offered a warm smile, putting Hyunjin’s nerves at ease.

The man returned moments later, dressed for the weather and sat on a bench to put on his boots. “Be careful,” his wife said as he got up, pulling on a thermal hood before putting on his gloves. He grabbed a shovel and stepped out onto the porch to join Hyunjin. “I’ll be back in a bit, Edi,” he said, pulling the bottom of his cowl up to cover his mouth and nose.

The door shut and Hyunjin led the way down the porch, the man, Larry following him. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Hyunjin said as they walked side by side. “What’s your name, son?” the man asked him. “Hyunjin,” he answered. “Hwang Hyunjin. My friend is Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“I’m Lawrence,” the man introduced himself. “That was my wife Edith.”

They reached the end of the driveway and started down the road to where the car sat. Hyunjin hoped that they’d be able to get the car out of the ditch so he could get you home. He didn’t want to force you to spend more time with him than necessary as it seemed you already didn’t want to be around him.

“Where did you say you were coming from, again?” Lawrence asked. “A party down the road. About ten miles. It’s my friend’s cousin’s house,” Hyunjin explained as they neared the car. Snow had begun to collect on the surface, covering the windows. “Boy, it’s really coming down,” Lawrence noted.

“You really managed to dig yourselves in here,” he added as he looked at the car. Hyunjin nodded slowly. “Yeah, honestly, we just slid right off the road and I tried to back out a few times but the back wheels couldn’t catch on anything. Too much snow.” Lawrence nodded as he walked over to the back of the car, carefully dragging his feet through the snow.

“Snow’s too powdery,” he added as he kicked at the snow. “And it’s not packed down, so you would get any traction.” Hyunjin nodded as he spoke before he remembered you sitting in the car. “I’m gonna check on Y/N,” he announced and walked over to the driver’s side door, wiping the snow away with a gloved hand. “He peered in before opening the door and looking in.

“I brought someone who might be able to help,” he explained. You nodded. Hyunjin could tell you looked cold. He kneeled onto his seat and looked behind his seat into the back of the car. He removed his glove, grabbing another blanket and tugged it out from under a duffle bag.

“Here,” he said, handing it to you. “We’re gonna try and dig the car out or pack some snow under the wheel and see if we can’t get the wheels to get any traction.” You took the second blanket and immediately spread it out over you. “What if you can’t get the car out?” you asked, your voice soft.

Hyunjin pulled his hat off and scratched the back of his head before running his fingers through his hair a couple times. “I don’t know,” he finally said, putting his hat back on. “I’ll keep you updated,” he added before getting out and shutting the door again. Hyunjin moved back around to the back of the car with Lawrence who was bent over, peering at the back wheels.

“Well,” he started as he stood up straight. “We could pack snow under these tires for hours and you probably still won’t get enough traction to get out. This embankment is too steep. You’re gonna need someone to pull her out,” he explained. Hyunjin’s heart sank as Lawrence spoke. He’d feared as much.

“What are we supposed to do?” Hyunjin asked softly. “I suppose I could call my road-side assistance,” he continued. “But they may not be able to get out here until after the snow lets up.” Lawrence nodded. “And they run the risk of getting stuck themselves.”

Hyunjin sighed, looking up and down the deserted road. “I’m sure Edi wouldn’t mind if you came and stayed with us for the night. Hopefully in the morning, the snow will have let up and the crews are out clearing the roads so you can be on your way,” Lawrence explained.

Hyunjin turned to look at him. “Wait, really?” he asked. Lawrence nodded. “Seems like your only option at this point. Otherwise you’d be forced to stay out here and that could kill you.” Hyunjin nodded and moved to the door, pulling it open and ducking down to peer in.

You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “We won’t be able to get the car out tonight,” he started and your stomach immediately sank. “But this guy I brought said we can stay the night with him and his wife.” You perked up at the thought of a warm bed and perhaps a hot shower. “Really?” you asked and Hyunjin nodded. “You got any boots in that bag of yours?”

You nodded quickly. “I got boots and some clothes.”

Hyunjin closed the door so you could change, pulling on a pair of pants and socks, slipping on the boots you thankfully brought along before stuffing your shoes into your bag. Once you were dressed, you tried to open your door but found it was stuck. You leaned over the center console and knocked on the window.

Hyunjin turned, opening the door and peering in at you. “I can’t open my door. Something’s blocking it.” Hyunjin cursed under his breath. “Probably the snow,” he murmured. “Give me your bag,” he said, holding out a hand. You handed it to him and he set it on top of the car before leaning back in. “Hand me my duffle bag,” he instructed.

You grabbed it from behind his seat and pulled it to the front. Hyunjin opened it, pulling out his gym gear he wouldn’t need and tossed it into the back before taking one of the blankets, folding it and stuffing it into the bag. He then set the bag with yours and leaned down one last time.

“Come on,” he said, holding his hand out. “You’re gonna have to climb out this way.”

You threw the other blanket into the backseat and started to climb, cursing under your breath as you struggled. You took his hand as you climbed into the driver’s seat and scrambled out into the snow, Hyunjin steadying you with his hands.

You murmured a thank you and looked up. “Don’t mention it,” he replied before grabbing yours and his bags. You noticed an older man standing on the road. He took the bags from Hyunjin so the two of you could focus on climbing up the embankment, Hyunjin helping pull you up onto the road.

“This is Lawrence,” Hyunjin introduced the older man standing there with a snow shovel in one hand and both of your bags in the other. “Hello,” you said breathlessly, your breath coming out in puffs. Lawrence nodded in response.

Once on level ground, you took your bag and followed them as they headed back down the road. Hyunjin made sure to lock the doors and looked sadly at his car before jogging to catch up with you and Lawrence. “My poor car,” he mumbled. You looked up at him, the cold stinging your skin and biting at the tip of your nose. “It could have been worse,” you commented.

The walk back to the house wasn’t long and soon you were walking up the steps to the porch. Lawrence let you two in first, making sure you kicked any snow off your shoes before stepping inside with him bringing up the rear. Hyunjin started to remove his coat and you followed as Lawrence hung up the shovel and also started to shed his winter gear.

An older woman came around the corner dressed in floral, khaki, and pink. She reminded you of a sweet grandmother who baked pies and knitted her grandchildren hats and scarves. “This is my wife, Edith,” Lawrence explained. You nodded at her politely. “This is Y/N,” Hyunjin introduced you and you smiled at the woman, Edith. “You look frozen,” she commented. “Come in and warm up.”

You followed Edith, leaving your cold weather gear behind as you walked into the living area.

The room was a modest size, the living room separated from the kitchen by a large kitchen island. Along the back wall was a large fireplace with a fire already going. The kitchen was a galley style, taking up the side wall of the house, a door leading to the back of the house at the other end.

“Come, come in,” Edith said, guiding you over to sit in front of the fireplace. You glanced up at Hyunjin who nodded and followed you. “Are you hungry?” Edith asked as you took a seat on the couch nearest the fireplace, letting your bag fall to your feet. Hyunjin took a seat beside and looked up at your hosts.

“I could eat,” he answered. “Y/N?” he asked. You looked up at the mention of your name. “You hungry?” Hyunjin asked. You shook your head. “Actually,” you said, looking past him at the couple. “I could really use a shower.” Edith smiled and nodded. “You get some food heated up for our guest,” she said, patting her husband’s arm.

“I’ll show you to the upstairs bathroom,” she added, turning to you. You grabbed your bag and got up, following her through the house and towards the front door. She guided you up a set of stairs, into a hallway where there were three doors.

“This is the bathroom,” Edith said, opening a door and turning on the light. “This room next door is the office and the extra bedroom is that room there,” she continued, pointing out the different doors. “Are you sure you aren’t hungry, dear?” Edith asked as you moved to enter the bathroom.

“I’m sure,” you replied. “I ate at the party we were at earlier. I think I just need a shower and some sleep.” Edith hummed and moved into the bathroom, where she opened a small door to show you the contents. “The towels are in here,” she said softly before shutting the door.

“Just make sure to clean up any water,” she said with a smile and moved to the door. “If you change your mind after your shower, just let me know and I’ll whip something up for you.” You smiled as she exited, thanking her once again before closing the door.

You turned to the shower and pulled back the curtain, turning on the water and letting it heat up. Stepping under the stream, you sighed, letting the hot water run down your body before scrubbing away the events of the night. Once you felt you were sufficiently clean, you turned the water off and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel and starting to dry yourself off.

You chose to change into your pajamas you’d packed before stepping out of the bathroom and making your way to the bedroom. Upon opening the door, your eyes landed on the bed and sighed. ‘I can’t wait to get some sleep,’ you thought to yourself as you stepped into the room, setting your bag in a cream colored armchair near the door. In the middle of the room against the wall was a queen sized bed, cream colored linens covered the bed.

You moved over to the mattress and sat on the edge, letting out an exhausted sigh. As you were about to start getting under the covers, you heard the doorknob turn and looked up in time to see the door open and Hyunjin appear. ‘Oh no. no way.’

Hyunjin sighed, entering the door and shutting it behind him. “One bed,” he murmured, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Judging by the damp locks, you assumed he’d just taken a shower as well. “Yep,” you said, looking down at the mattress. Hyunjin shook his head before letting out a huff.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said suddenly.

You looked up at him in shock as he moved to drop his bag in the opposite corner of yours. “Hand me those extra pillows,” he continued. You started handing them to him, watching as he made himself a small, measly bed on the floor with pillows and moved to grab the blanket he’d brought from his car.

“Goodnight,” Hyunjin said as he laid down, covering himself with the blanket. You hesitated, staring down at him before finally turning off the lamp and throwing the room in darkness. The only light source coming from the flood light reflecting off the snow outside.

You turned over, your back to Hyunjin on the floor, and tried to fall asleep but you kept opening your eyes. Minutes felt like they were ticking by, the only sound being the house creaking occasionally and Hyunjin’s steady breathing.

You finally couldn’t take it anymore. You sat up, reaching over to turn on the light. “Get up,” you said.

Hyunjin sighed and lifted his head to look at you. “What?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

“I said get up,” you replied. Hyunjin grumbled as he sat up, pushing himself up to his feet.

“What?” he asked, turning to face you. “Am I breathing too loud? Do you want me to leave?”

You hit the bed beside you. “The floor can’t be comfortable. Just get in the bed.”

Hyunjin froze, staring at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.

“What?” he whispered. You looked up at him. “Just get in the bed.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I said I’d sleep on the floor. It’s f-”

“It’s not fine and I won’t ask you again, Hyun,” you cut him off, his heart skipping a beat at the nickname he hadn’t heard in years. “Just get in the bed, please.”

He hesitated for a moment more before bending over to grab the pillows and blanket, moving around to the other side of the bed and sitting down. He replaced the pillows and pulled the blankets back, settling under them before throwing the extra blanket on top.

“And you’re sure about this?” he asked softly as you laid back down.

“Yes!” you replied, turning your head to look at him. “I’m sure.”

Hyunjin nodded, saying nothing as he turned onto his side. “Thanks,” he muttered. You reached for the light, your heart pounding at being this close in such an intimate setting after two years. “Don’t mention it,” you replied, turning off the light and throwing the room back into darkness once more.

——————————————————————————————————————————

You awoke the next morning to find the room was bright from the light reflecting off the snow and in through the windows. Blinking the sleep away, you started to sit up when you were aware of a weight across your midsection. You glanced down, lifting the blanket to find Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around you, his chest pressed into your back.

Your stomach leapt as you tried to remain calm. You carefully removed his arm and sat up, making sure to try and not disturb him. Getting up, you walked over to one of the windows and looked out to find a thick blanket of snow had fallen during the night, covering everything in white.

You briefly wondered if the car was covered as well before you heard Hyunjin groan, starting to rouse.

You quickly moved to grab your toiletry bag and headed out of the room, down the hall into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash the remnants of sleep away.

Once you were done, you returned to the room where Hyunjin was sitting up, phone in his hands as he scrolled through his notifications. He looked up as you entered and you internally chuckled at his mess of black hair. He’d always woken up with the messiest hair.

“Morning,” he grumbled, returning his gaze to his phone.

“Morning,” you replied as you put your toiletry bag away and searched through it for something to wear.

You heard the mattress creak as Hyunjin got up and heard his feet shuffle over to the corner where his bag was. You kept your eyes down as he made his way past you and into the hall, letting the door shut behind him. You let out a breath of relief before launching into hyper speed, stripping your pajamas off and redressing.

You zipped your bag, remembering how he used to see your open bag as an invitation to root around. ‘Surely he wouldn’t…’ you thought but decided not to take the chance. You opened the bedroom door and headed out and down the stairs where the smell of coffee and food greeted you.

Walking into the kitchen, you found your hosts already up and dressed. Lawrence had donned a dark blue sweater with a white collar peeking out from the neck and a pair of thick boot cut jeans. He was sitting at the dining table, a plate of breakfast in front of him and a mug of coffee in his hand as he read the paper.

Edith turned to look at you, offering a warm smile as she cooked at the kitchen island. She’d put on a pair of khaki slacks with a white and pink heart polka dot print top, a red cardigan draped around her slender frame.

“Morning!” she chirped and you couldn’t help but smile as you entered the kitchen. “You hungry?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Starving, actually,” you replied as the stairs creaked. “There’s coffee,” Edith said as she stirred the contents of the skillet. “Help yourself. Creamer is in the fridge and sugar is on the counter.” You moved towards the coffee pot, noticing two mugs sitting on the counter for you and Hyunjin to use.

You grabbed the red one with the words “world’s best grandma” on them. You busied yourself with fixing a cup of coffee as Hyunjin entered the kitchen, greeting Edith when she spoke. “Coffee’s over there. I’ll have your food ready soon,” Edith said as she flipped the eggs over, cutting them with the tip of the spatula.

Hyunjin moved to stand next to you, reaching for the mug but you stopped him, handing him the mug in your hands. “Cream and extra sugar, right?” you asked, making him look up from the mug at you. He nodded, taking the mug with a murmured thanks. You smiled to yourself, content with the knowledge that he was going to be drinking from a mug that said “World’s Best Grandma” as you made your own cup of coffee.

Once you’d taken a seat, Edith plated the food in the skillet and brought them over, setting both down in front of you. “I wasn’t sure what you liked,” she started. “So there’s a bit of everything.”

You smiled at her, thanking her before turning your attention back to the plate. There was an assortment of breakfast food from eggs to sausage to bacon. There was even a biscuit, already buttered and sitting open on the plate. You dug in, relishing the flavors and having a hot meal in your stomach.

“Over a foot of snow fell last night,” Lawrence said, drawing your attention as you glanced up at him. “It’s still snow,” he continued, folding the newspaper and looking up at you and Hyunjin. “There’s more on the way, according to the weather forecast. A blizzard is supposed to blow through the area.”

You swallowed thickly at this news, glancing quickly at Hyunjin to your right. His eyes were on Lawrence, looking as if he was trying to process what to say next only Lawrence beat him to it.

“Edith and I think it would be best if you two stayed another night. Just until the blizzard blows through. I’ve already called a neighbor who has agreed to help tow your car out of the ditch after the blizzard. He’s gone to uncover and dig out the car so when the blizzard arrives, we’ll have less to dig out afterwards.”

Hyunjin nodded, you could see relief wash over him. “Thank you so much,” Hyunjin finally said. Lawrence nodded, giving him a smile. “That does mean, of course,” Lawrence continued. “That we’ll need your help to prepare for the blizzard.”

You nodded, thankful they were allowing you to stay another night. “Just tell us what we need to do,” you said with a firm nod. “We’re happy to help since you’re letting us stay.” Edith interrupted with her soft voice. “Finish your breakfast first and then we’ll go over what needs to be done.”

After eating and downing another cup of coffee, Lawrence and Edith explained everything that needed to be done before the blizzard arrived. They needed more firewood chopped and brought in from the cellar. Edith needed to restock the pantry and fridge and Lawrence wanted to get up on the roof and knock down most of the snow that was up there to keep the roof from potentially buckling under the weight.

Hyunjin offered to climb the ladder so Lawrence didn’t have to. Edith voluntold you that you’d stay inside with her and help with the household chores while Lawrence and Hyunjin handled all the outdoor and heavy lifting.

After divvying up the tasks, Hyunjin and Lawrence pulled on their snow gear and headed out into the frigid white wasteland while you and Edith started cleaning up the kitchen and getting a load of laundry going. You made sure to follow her instructions carefully before setting the timer on the washer and joined her back in the kitchen.

“I’ve asked Larry to send Hyunjin up with some stuff from the cellar. It might take him a few trips,” she explained as she opened the pantry door and you peered in. You noticed that it was modestly stocked, the shelves not as full as they could have been. “We buy in bulk,” Edith continued. “And keep the majority of it down in the cellar. We’re able to buy enough groceries to keep us going for a few months.”

You said nothing as you watched her, jumping slightly when you heard a knock at the back door.

Edith walked over and opened it. Hyunjin was carrying a massive box. “Where do you want it?” he asked, his voice strained. “Set it on this,” Edith said, pulling out a small rug and setting it on the floor. Hyunjin did so and Edith thanked him. “We can just slide this over,” she added. Hyunjin nodded and turned to leave but not before stopping to look at you, catching your gaze.

You turned away wordlessly and helped Edith push the box across the wood floors to the kitchen.

Inside the box was an assortment of refrigerated and frozen goods. You sat on a stool, pulling contents from the box to hand to Edith while she arranged them neatly in the fridge. Once you were finished, she took the box and walked over to the door just as a figure appeared behind the glass.

Hyunjin had returned with more food from the cellar. “He said this should be everything for the pantry,” Hyunjin said as he looked into the box and then up at Edith. You got up and hurried over, taking the box so the older woman wouldn’t have to. “Oh, thank you Y/N,” she said with a smile. You nodded as you shifted the box in your arms. “You got it?” Hyunjin asked softly and you looked up at him.

Your eyes met and you felt a warmth spread throughout you, something you hadn’t felt while looking at him in a long time. There was a look on his face. Part of it was concern, but the rest of it was nothing but compassion. “I can carry it if it’s too heavy,” he added.

You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I got it, Hyun.”

He nodded, glancing at Edith as she watched the exchange with something akin to adoration in her eyes. “Okay,” he replied. “Well, I’ll just go help Lawrence chop wood or something,” he murmured, cheeks turning a shade of pink. Whether it was from your exchange or the cold you couldn’t tell.

Hyunjin left, allowing Edith to close the door and lead you over to the kitchen where you set the box on the floor and moved the stool so you could start to pull cans out of the box and set them on the counter while Edith took note of everything, checking it off her list. Once you emptied the box, Edith took it back over to the door, setting it to the side.

You said nothing as she started grabbing the cans from the counter and putting them in the pantry, arranging them on the shelves the way she liked them. While she worked, you continued to pull cans out of the box, your mind wandering.

Ever since you’d run into Hyunjin again, something has been different. The usual tension you felt in his presence seemed to be missing. It was like after two years apart, you were strangers again. Strangers who had grown apart but also grown up and changed, possibly for the better?

You couldn’t be sure but something was definitely different about Hyunjin, that much you were sure of.

“So,” Edith’s voice brought you from your thoughts. You turned to look at her. “How long have you two kids been together?” You stared at her in stunned silence. ’What?’ You shook your head slowly.

“We’re not together,” you answered. Edith gave you a surprised wide-eyed look. “Oh, I’m sorry dear,” she replied. “I thought you were together. My mistake for assuming.” You stared at her as she turned away, putting the items from the cellar into the cabinets. “We used to be,” you finally admitted.

Edith turned to look at you. “Hyunjin and I used to be together.”

She offered a kind smile. “I thought there was something there,” she said softly, moving to grab more cans. “What ended it?” You glanced up, watching as she neatly stacked the cans in the cabinet. “We weren’t exactly good for each other,” you admitted. “We fought a lot.”

Edith nodded wordlessly before turning one last time to look at you as she gathered the last of the cans.

“Fights happen, dear,” she replied. “It’s normal to fight from time to time.”

You shook your head, playing with your fingers as you avoided her gaze.

“It wasn’t just every once in a while,” you explained. “It was almost every other day until it became everyday. We were both insecure, accusing the other of cheating. I would demand to know where he was every minute and he retaliated by demanding to go through my phone. We had a lot of issues and our break up was inevitable and honestly, we’re better off.”

Edith pursed her lips as she finished gathering the cans, turning to the pantry to finish stocking it.

“Sometimes insecurities can drive a wedge between one another,” she started. “But there had to be a reason you stayed together,” she added, turning back around as she closed the pantry door. Your cheeks burned. “I’m not sure why we stayed together so long,” you admitted.

It was the truth. You couldn’t recall why you and Hyunjin stayed together for so long. Without the fights, you couldn’t recall many positive memories. You were both young, working and finishing college. You shared an apartment for convenience and for costs as well but you hardly spent time there.

You were mostly at school, work, or the library studying. The apartment was for food and sleeping. You only ever saw Hyunjin in passing or on the rare occasion you both had time off from work. At first, those sparse moments of time together were spent enjoying some time to relax from your exhaustive lifestyles. You weren’t exactly sure when things got bad just that one day, the fights started and didn’t stop.

The makeup sex was always fantastic but the moments of peace didn’t last long and soon you were at each other’s throats again. It was a vicious cycle that continued until you inevitably ended things.

[flashback - two years ago]

The apartment was cold and empty when you returned from work. ‘Hyunjin must not be home,’ you told yourself as you slipped your shoes off and set your bag on the kitchen counter. You moved towards the bedroom, entering and starting to strip as you felt like you were pulling off the weight of the day.

It had been a rough few days at work and it was starting to wear you down. Not to mention you had been doing the bulk of the housework as your boyfriend was never home anymore, always working or not being around you. It didn’t bother you like it used to. You were used to this by now.

Once you were in some clean clothes, you headed back to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat, noticing the dirty pot Hyunjin no doubt used to make ramyeon earlier. You weren’t sure why but seeing that small piece of cookware just sitting on the counter made your blood boil.

‘So he can cook and eat here but he can’t clean up after himself?’

You scoffed as you moved to the sink, picking up the pot and starting to wash it, scrubbing it with a sponge. You finished rinsing it and set it to dry as the front door opened, Hyunjin entered with a heavy sigh as he shut the door and kicked his shoes off by the door.

He started to pass the kitchen and caught sight of you standing by the sink.

“Oh, you’re home,” he said and you could detect a bite of animosity to his tone. How dare he.

You whipped around, anger taking over your form as you unloaded on him.

“Of course I’m here,” you snapped. “Where else would I be?”

Hyunjin’s brows rose for a moment before a frown appeared on his face. “I never know where you are anymore,” he snapped back. “Working, Hyunjin! I’m working! That’s all I ever do!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“I go to work, I bust my ass and then I come back here and I still have to work because you can’t seem to clean up after yourself!”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?” he asked as he let his own bag fall to the ground with a thump. “I’m hardly ever here. What is there to clean up?”

“Dishes! You make yourself food and then leave the dishes sitting on the counter and I have to clean them up otherwise they will pile up!” you shouted. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, setting you off further. “I was going to clean that up,” he started. “I was just in a rush to get out of the house for a meeting. I work, too, you know.”

You could feel your blood boiling. “Oh, is that what you call it?” you asked sarcastically. “Meeting with your boss’ secretary again?” you snapped. Hyunjin groaned, rolling his eyes again. “She’s my coworker! How many times do I have to tell you, there’s nothing going on there!”

You ignored him, moving to the fridge, yanking the door open to hide him from your line of sight. You stared into the fridge at the contents, trying to figure out what to make yourself for dinner. Silence fell over the two of you before Hyunjin spoke.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

You slammed the door shut, rounding on him. “Nothing!” you spat. “You can make yourself something. I’m going to bed.”

You stormed past him, not noticing the way he turned to look at you in shock.

“But you haven’t eaten!” he called as you reached the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Hyunjin sighed and turned back to the kitchen, moving to open the door and inspect the fridge contents. He grabbed several of the items and moved to the stove, grabbing the now clean pot. He’d just make something simple and split it with you.

You laid on your side, knees curled up as silent tears flowed. You couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t working. You’d done nothing but fight with Hyunjin for as long as you could remember. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had a civil conversation.

As you laid there, a soft knock sounded on the wood of the door. You quickly wiped your eyes but remained silent. You heard the click of the latch as Hyunjin turned the knob and pushed the door open with a quiet creak.

“Y/N?” he called in a whisper. You ignored him, keeping your back turned. “I made some food. I brought yours.” You heard him enter the room fully now and move to your side of the bed. There was a gentle thud as he set presumably a bowl on the bedside table before a light clicked on.

You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge of the mattress behind you.

“Babe,” he said softly, placing his hand gently on your arm. “You sleeping?”

You shook your head wordlessly. You felt his thumb trace soft circles against your sleeve.

“Baby,” he started, leaning over slightly. “You need to eat something.”

“M’not hungry,” you croaked. Your voice sounded awful from the silent sobbing you’d been doing since you slammed the door earlier. Hyunjin tugged you onto your back, looking down at you with concern. “Are you sick?” he asked, moving his hand to feel your forehead. You pushed his hand away.

“No,” you replied and tried to turn back over but he stopped you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, preventing you from rolling away from him.

“Talk to me.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Talk. Yeah, we haven’t talked in ages, Hyun.” His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked, moving his hand to cup your cheek. You pushed his hand away again. “We don’t talk, Hyunjin,” you replied. “We fight. That’s all we ever do when we’re together. I can’t remember the last time we had an actual conversation that didn’t result in one of us coming in here and slamming the door.”

A look of hurt flashed over Hyunjin’s face. “It’s just a rough spot,” he murmured. “We’re both swamped with work. It’ll work itself out,” he continued. You shook your head. “No it won’t,” you replied. Hyunjin watched as you sat up before moving to take your face in his hands. “Let’s just forget it. I’m sorry,” he said softly, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have left my mess for you to clean up. I should have managed my time better.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. Normally, you would have melted into his kisses but you were too numb now, having spent the last hour in a dark room making up your mind to do what you’d been dreading to do.

But knowing it was what you needed to do.

Hyunjin pulled back to look at you. “Y/N?” he asked softly. You took a deep breath and looked up to meet his curious gaze. “Hyunjin,” you started, your heart hammering in your chest, stomach churning at what you were about to say.

“We need to break up.”

[end flashback - the present]

You blinked as the memory leading up to your break up with Hyunjin dissipated into the background as you returned to the reality in front of you. Edith was looking at you with the expression you imagined a wise old sage would give before giving some kind of ancient wisdom.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “The way he looks at you says another story.”

Your eyes widened slightly. ‘The way he looks at me?’ you wondered. ‘What does she mean by that?’

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, shaking your head. Edith chuckled softly. “It just means that maybe there’s still something there, on his end.” You fell silent, thinking back to your recent interactions with Hyunjin but not finding anything that would even remotely paint the picture Edith was imagining.

That was it, she had to be imagining. Projecting hers and Lawrence’s happiness onto you and Hyunjin. There was no other explanation.

You forced a smile. “I highly doubt that,” you replied quietly, still grateful all the same. Edith sighed and shook her head. “You never know if you don’t ask,” she started. “But what do I know? I’m just an outsider, dear,” she added, moving to pat your hand before she moved to start dinner.

“Be a dear, and give me a hand,” she half asked. You nodded, standing up and moving to her side.

“How can I help?”

“How much more wood do we need?” Hyunjin asked as he loaded another armful of firewood in his arms. “Just a few more bundles,” Lawrence answered as he started to grab pieces as well. They’d spent part of the afternoon salting the pathway from the doors to the cellar to make sure they could get down there if needed. Hyunjin had cleared the snow away with a shovel for Lawrence to follow.

They’d then spent some time chopping wood for the fireplaces just in case the power went out. Hyunjin learned a lot from Lawrence including how he and Edith met, how long they’d been married, and how long they’d lived in this house.

“Take those to the back door and come back to get one more bundle,” Lawrence instructed as Hyunjin headed towards the steps leading out of the cellar. He nodded and climbed the steps, following the shoveled path to deposit the wood by the back door.

He stopped as he stood up straight, catching a glimpse of you through the glass as you helped Edith in the kitchen, chatting away as you cooked. He watched as you threw your head back, a laugh escaping you. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in years. A sound he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.

He could recall plenty of times you’d both been happy in your relationship but he couldn’t seem to pinpoint the last time you’d been happy together. When you suggested breaking up, he panicked. He threw out promises to do better, to be better. He reiterated how much he loved you.

He didn’t want to lose you but ultimately he did. You offered to leave the apartment but he refused, telling you to stay and he could move in with a friend. It was a last minute situation, crashing on his friend’s couch. He stayed there until he was able to find a place of his own and came back to get his things.

[flashback - two years ago]

Hyunjin looked up at the building, letting out a sigh as he tried to calm his nerves.

He really didn’t want to do this but he had no choice. He didn’t have the money to replace his things and he was sure you were sick of having his shit in the apartment.

He finally willed himself to move, putting one foot in front of the other and entering the building. As he waited for the elevator, he contemplated chickening out and asking you to send him his stuff instead but he knew you’d be angrier than if he just showed up.

The ride up to your floor was shorter than he remembered and soon he was standing in front of your door. He raised his fist to knock but hesitated when he heard laughter coming from behind the door. It was your laughter but there was another voice as well.

His heart sank as it dawned on him that another man might be in the apartment with you. Suddenly chickening out and facing your wrath seemed like an easier option than facing whatever was waiting for him behind the door. Seeing as he’d already made the trip here, he knocked three times, his knuckles feeling sore at the force he put behind it.

There was a moment of silence before he heard the familiar click of the lock turning before the door opened and your face appeared. Each time Hyunjin saw you, it took his breath away. You were still just as beautiful as the day he left, even more so because you looked healthier.

Happier.

“I uh, came to get the rest of my stuff,” he murmured softly. You nodded, taking a step back and pulling the door open for him. Inside the apartment was unrecognizable. What was once your shared space had changed. The furniture was gone, boxes taped shut and labeled stacked neatly against the wall.

The cabinets had been emptied and cleaned. Standing in the kitchen was a man Hyunjin had never seen before. He stared at the man as he cleaned the stove, making sure to scrub the surface well. He turned and met Hyunjin’s gaze. You must have noticed Hyunjin’s reluctance to move because you moved to introduce the man.

“This is my coworker, Minho,” you explained. ‘Coworker?’ Panic spread throughout his body. Had he been correct in assuming you were sleeping around behind his back? Footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to find yet another man entering the living room, carrying another box.

“That’s everything from the bedroom,” he announced as he carried the box over to the others along the wall and set it down. Hyunjin eyed the second man before glancing at you for confirmation. “And this is Minho’s partner, Jisung,” you added, gesturing to the second man who smiled warmly.

‘Partner? So you hadn’t been sleeping with your coworker?’

“Uh, hi,” Hyunjin answered meekly. When did he become so soft-spoken? Especially around you? The break up had really done a number on him. His confidence had dropped drastically and he’d been a mess. He spent a lot of the first week crying himself to sleep on his friend’s couch. He couldn’t even find it in him to be angry. He just wanted you back.

“Your boxes are over here,” you said, beckoning to follow you and leading him to the corner of the living room opposite the door. “I made sure to keep them separate from mine and I went ahead and labeled them so you’d know what’s in them,” you explained. Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat. Even now, you were still looking out for him. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Hyunjin said softly.

You shook your head, dismissing his concern with your hand. “I had to label mine anyway, so it wasn’t any trouble. Do you need help carrying them down to your car?” you asked, looking up at him. He almost shook his head but was interrupted by the man in your kitchen, Minho. “Ji’s done bringing the boxes from the kitchen, he can help you carry your stuff down,” he offered, looking at Jisung who smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” Jisung replied, walking over to where the two of you stood.

“Then we can load your stuff up,” Jisung added, turning to look at you. “We still have to set up your room,” he added with a nudge. Hyunjin looked between the two of you, a brow raised. “Her room?” he asked subtly. Jisung nodded. “Y/N’s moving into our spare bedroom and helping with rent!”

You smiled sheepishly at Jisung, turning to catch the look on Hyunjin’s face. He looked confused. “I tried to find an apartment,” you explained. “But nothing was in my price range.”

Hyunjin felt guilty even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t expected you to leave the apartment but then again, he should have guessed it would happen as it was far out of your range alone. “I see,” he said softly. “Let’s get these down to your car,” Jisung said, breaking the awkward tension and picking up a couple boxes.

Hyunjin moved to grab one as Minho finished cleaning the stove. “There,” he said with a smug smile. “There’s no way you aren’t getting back that deposit,” he continued, sending a wink your way. Hyunjin continued walking, following Jisung to the elevator which was thankfully still on the floor.

The ride down was silent as neither wanted to be the one to speak first. Silently, the two carried the boxes out to Hyunjin’s car that was waiting by the curb. “Where d’you want these?” Jisung asked as Hyunjin unlocked the car, balancing the box in his arms against his chest. “Just in the backseat,” Hyunjin replied.

The two silently loaded the car and went back for more.

On the ride up in the elevator, Hyunjin finally spoke. “Make sure she eats,” he said softly, not looking at Jisung. From his periphery, he could tell the man had turned his head to look at him. “Sometimes she gets so engrossed in her work she forgets to eat. And make sure she takes her medicine. She forgets that sometimes, too.” Jisung said nothing, nodding instead wordlessly.

Upon entering the apartment, Hyunjin found you standing alone by the window, looking out over the city.

He walked over silently, grabbing a box as Jisung grabbed the last box and headed out into the hall. Hyunjin stared at you, the realization that this would be the last time he ever saw you dawning on him. He needed to say something. Say anything. He just needed you to look at him one last time.

“Y/N,” he said suddenly. You turned to look at him, tearing your gaze away from the window.

The two of you stood there, unmoving as you stared at one another, silence falling over you.

This was it. Hyunjin needed to say something. To tell you one last time how much he loved you.

His voice faltered and the words slipped from his grasp. You offered him a kind smile.

“Good luck, Hyunjin,” you said softly. “Live a good life.”

Hyunjin hesitated, his words failing him yet again before he uttered a simple “you, too.”

He turned away, forcing himself to head for the door despite his heart telling him to go back. Go back to you and bed for your forgiveness. To beg for a second chance. To pull you into a hug, hold you in his arms one last time. Kiss you and tell you he loved you and always would.

But instead of doing any of that, he went down to his car, throwing the last of the boxes with his shit in them, thanking Jisung, and getting into the driver’s seat. He drove straight to his apartment and sat in the quiet car as he fought the urge to cry. To sob. To scream. To do anything.

Just like that, you were gone from his life and he would never see you again.

[end flashback - the present]

Hyunjin forced himself to turn away from the door and head back down into the cellar. Lawrence had finished collecting a pile of wood and smiled as Hyunjin started to collect more. “Once you’re done, meet me inside and we’ll put the firewood in the holder and I can show you how to light one.”

Hyunjin nodded wordlessly as he gathered wood, listening to the sound of Lawrence retreating. He was trying to make sense of everything. Meeting you again like this two years after your break up. It had to mean something but Hyunjin wasn’t sure what it meant.

Was it pure coincidence? Was the universe giving him a second chance? Did it mean nothing and just that the two of you were sharing the same group of friends? He had too many questions and none of the answers.

Hyunjin climbed the stairs out of the cellar one last time, using his foot to close the door before heading to the backdoor and climbing onto the stoop where he kicked off the snow on his boots. He struggled to open the door and felt relieved when it opened for him, bringing him face to face with you.

You smiled warmly at him. “Saw you struggling out here,” you explained as you stepped back, holding the door open for him to enter. Hyunjin thanked you, making sure to wipe his feet and moving over to where Lawrence was ready to take the wood.

With his hands free, Hyunjin was able to remove his shoes and cold weather gear before walking over to where Lawrence was crouched by the fire. Hyunjin joined him, glancing back over his shoulder at you as you helped Edith in the kitchen.

“She seems like a lovely young lady,” Lawrence said softly, drawing Hyunjin’s focus away from you. He met the older man’s eyes and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” Hyunjin replied. “She is,” he added. “I sense some hesitation?” Lawrence asked, Hyunjin nodding silently.

“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” Hyunjin said softly, a sadness falling over him like the flurries of snow outside. Lawrence was silent for a moment before speaking. “How long ago did it end?” he asked as he grabbed a few logs of firewood and placed them in the hearth.

“Two years,” Hyunjin replied, not daring to look back at you for fear that you were watching them.

“How long were you together?”

“Six years,” Hyunjin answered. He heard Lawrence click his tongue as he grabbed a canister of fuel. “Two years isn’t a long time,” he muttered as he flipped the cap and poured a generous amount of the fuel onto the logs and set it aside. “Not nearly enough time to undo everything that happens in six.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh. “We fought a lot,” he explained. “Too much if I’m honest.” Lawrence nodded as he pulled out a box of matches and handed them to Hyunjin. “Fights happen,” he replied. “Lord knows Edith and I have had our fair share over the course of our relationship. There were times I was sure we wouldn’t last.” Hyunjin looked at him with wide eyes.

“All I’m saying is that it seems like the universe has given you a second chance. You just have to make sure you strike hard and true,” he added, tapping on the box of matches. Hyunjin glanced down at the box and opened it quickly, pulling out a match. He scraped the end against the side of the box, lighting the match easily.

Lawrence nodded at the hearth and Hyunjin tossed the match into the fuel soaked firewood which caught quickly. Lawrence used a poker to push the logs around to make sure the fire spread evenly before grabbing the cover and placing it in front of the open hearth.

“Let’s see if they need a hand in the kitchen,” Lawrence said with a smile, gesturing towards the kitchen where you and Edith were still cooking away. Hyunjin hesitated, looking at you as you tested a sauce you were making. You let Edith try some and he couldn’t help the smile that started to spread when Edith nodded and smiled, turning back to her project.

Hyunjin walked over behind Lawrence who stopped at the kitchen island. “You two look like you’re having way too much fun,” he stated sternly. “We’re just cooking,” Edith replied as she turned over the food in the skillet. “Y/N here has a talent for it.”

Hyunjin nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, she does,” he said softly. Your eyes lifted to meet his and he could have sworn time stood still. The two of you staring at one another as if nothing else in the world existed. His heart hammered in his chest and just as quickly as it started, you looked away and time started up again, the sounds of cooking returning.

“Well,” Lawrence asked, leaning over to see into the skillet his wife was using. “Need a hand?”

After Edith effectively kicked her husband out of the kitchen, Hyunjin in tow, the two worked to make sure all the windows were locked and shutters shut for the incoming storm. The last thing the couple needed was a broken window from wind.

Once Hyunjin was certain the windows in the spare bedroom were shut tight and locked, he started for the door, stopping to look at your bag lying innocently in the chair in the corner of the room. The urge to look through it crossed his mind but as he moved over, he simply closed it and headed back to the door, turning off the light and heading for the stairs.

Downstairs, Lawrence was helping transfer the prepared food over to the table as you filled water glasses. Lawrence sat in his usual spot with Edith to his left. Hyunjin took a seat across from Lawrence, thanking you as you set a glass of water in front of him. You smiled at him before pouring another glass and setting it down in front of your place.

You turned away and Hyunjin forced himself to look away and not follow your movements.

Once you took your seat, Lawrence said grace and you started to help Edith serve the food. Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel like his life could have been like this had your relationship gone in a different direction. “Thanks,” he murmured as you handed him his plate, loaded with food.

Edith made you sit so she could serve you, which you protested against but eventually gave in, taking your seat and thanking her when your plate was also full. The four of you ate mostly in silence, only answering questions when asked. “Did you get a lot of firewood chopped?” Edith asked her husband.

Lawrence nodded, swallowing his bite. “We did. Hyunjin is a natural at chopping,” he added, giving Hyunjin a smile. “Oh no,” Hyunjin said with a shake of his head. “I was struggling a lot,” he added with a chuckle. “Nonsense,” Lawrence replied. “You did a lot better than most.”

Hyunjin thanked Lawrence for his compliment, returning his focus to his food.

The rest of dinner followed in mostly silence until no one else could anymore. “We’ll do the dishes,” Lawrence announced. “You ladies relax.” Edith lightly hit Lawrence with her napkin. “Sit,” she said in faux sternness. “Could you clean up the leftovers, Y/N?” she asked and you nodded, getting to your feet quickly. Edith cleared the plates as you packed away the leftovers and put them in the fridge before grabbing the rest of the dishes and moving to help her.

Hyunjin stared at you from his seat, watching you with a fond expression as you took the rinsed dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. Once this task was complete, you returned to the table with two small plates each with a slice of pie. You set one down in front of Lawrence who chuckled. “When did you make this?” he asked his wife. “I didn’t,” she replied.

“Y/N did.”

You smiled as you moved around to set the other plate in front of Hyunjin. “Cherry cobbler pie?” he asked, looking up to meet your gaze. You nodded slowly. “You remember?” you asked him softly and he nodded. “Of course. It was my favorite.”

Your cheeks burned as you turned away.

You knew Hyunjin had always loved the pies you liked to experiment with and bake but you never expected him to remember the Cherry Cobbler Pie. You returned to grab the other two slices, setting one down for Edith before taking your seat and setting your plate down.

Edith joined the table moments later and the four of you dug in. Edith smiled after the first bite. “So it’s a cherry pie?” she asked. You shook your head, your mouth still full. “It’s a mix between a cobbler and a pie,” Hyunjin explained. “She makes the bottom a pie crust but the top is a streusel.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide. He gave you a smile before taking another bite.

“You’ve had this before?” Edith asked with a knowing smile. Hyunjin nodded, swallowing. “I was the first to try it,” he replied. “I was there the day she made it.” You looked down at your slice, a lump forming in your throat. Just how much of these little things did he remember? You were certain he didn’t remember any of it. After the day he left and the way he left the apartment the day he picked up his stuff.

After dessert, you offered to do the rest of the dishes alone to let Edith rest. Hyunjin was quick to join you, getting up and offering a helping hand. You stood in the kitchen, side by side as you rinsed the dishes and handed them to him to put in the dishwasher.

Hyunjin glanced back at the living room where Edith and Lawrence were sitting together on the sofa, the tv playing quietly in the background. He turned back, catching sight of you as you rinsed the dishes silently and handed them to him. It wasn’t awkward or hostile. It was a comfortable silence.

The snow outside had started to pick up more and the sun had completely set by the time dinner was ready. “Are you tired?” Hyunjin asked you suddenly, breaking the silence but only enough for you to hear him. You looked up to meet his gaze. You nodded. “Today was exhausting,” you replied, turning your attention back to the dishes. “I can’t even imagine how tired you are from chopping firewood and hauling it in here,” you continued.

Hyunjin shrugged. “It’s not that bad,” he replied.

You shut off the water as you handed him the last of the dishes and removed the gloves, setting them aside to dry as Hyunjin finished filling the dishwasher and shut it. He turned to look at you. “Do you want to go to bed?” he asked. “It’s okay,” you shook your head. “I can tough it out.”

Hyunjin chuckled at your determination. “You can go to bed,” he said softly. His hand twitched as he resisted the urge to reach up and caress your cheek as he would have done in the past. Before the break up. Before the fights. Back to a time when you were both happy.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” Edith’s voice called and you staved off a yawn. “Sure!” you called back and turned away from Hyunjin, walking over to the living room. You took a seat on the other sofa, Hyunjin occupying the space beside you.

Lawrence started the movie and you tried to focus on it instead of Hyunjin’s body next to yours. A cold chill ran up your spine and Hyunjin quickly grabbed a blanket, pulling it over your laps as he settled back beside you.

About halfway through the movie, your eyes fluttered shut as sleep overtook you.

Hyunjin noticed you were sleeping when you gently slumped over against him. He moved his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to sleep as he kept his eyes on the TV screen but he couldn’t help glancing down, admiring your peaceful expression as you slept.

When the movie ended, Edith and Lawrence chuckled softly at the sight of you fast asleep against Hyunjin. “I’ll take her upstairs,” he said softly, pulling the blanket gently from your laps. “Y/N,” he said softly, giving you a gentle shake until you started to rouse.

“The movie’s over,” Hyunjin said softly. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

Once he finally got you on your feet, Hyunjin guided you to the stairs, calling goodnight to your hosts before he started the arduous task of helping you climb the stairs in your half-asleep state. Once at the top of the stairs, he guided you to the bedroom and shut the door.

He dug out your pajamas from your bag and set them on the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he announced, moving to the door. He went to the bathroom to do his business and when he returned, he was relieved that you managed to change your clothes. He quickly changed his pants when your back was turned, pulling his shirt off as his mind wandered.

“They really love each other,” Hyunjin said as he pulled his sleeping shirt over his head. You glanced up at him from your spot on the bed. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking away as Hyunjin turned, making his way to his side of the bed. “They really do.”

You felt the mattress dip behind you as Hyunjin sat down, pulling the covers over as he laid down. You hesitated. Could you share a bed with him after the thoughts and memories you did earlier? You shook your head, mentally willing the thoughts away and laid down, your back to your ex.

You murmured a goodnight, reaching up and turning the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. Silence fell over the two of you as you tried to force yourself to fall asleep.

“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hmm?” you hummed.

“...do you miss it?” Your eyes popped open and you rolled over onto your back to look back at Hyunjin. “Miss what?” you asked, though you had a sinking suspicion what he was going to say.

“Us.” ‘There it is.’

You hesitated, taking a deep breath before answering him. “Hyunjin,” you started.

“We broke up for a reason.” He fell silent, letting your words sink in before he spoke.

“I know,” he answered. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss things.”

“Miss what? The arguments? The constant fighting?”

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you. “Is that all you remember?” he asked softly, looking mildly surprised. You shrugged. “It’s hard to remember anything else,” you admitted. Hyunjin turned onto his side to face you. “You want to know what I remember?” he asked, his voice still just above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, wondering what he could possibly remember from your relationship.

“I remember that old run down truck you used to have and how we used to go ‘camping’ where we’d throw an inflatable mattress in the bed and take blankets and pillows. Then we’d drive out to an old abandoned field and watch the stars.”

Your heart skipped a beat as the memory came to the forefront of your mind.

Your old black beat up pickup truck. The paint was peeling in places and part of the bed was rusted but you refused to get rid of it until the engine eventually quit. The camping had been Hyunjin’s idea. You’d had a bad day at work and managed to score the next two days off and Hyunjin decided to go to the store, making you drive. He grabbed the mattress and some other essentials.

He instructed you where to drive and where to park before getting out and setting up the mattress in the bed and grabbing the pillows and blankets he dragged from your apartment. He then made you get into the back with him. That night, you lay under the blanket of darkness, looking up at the sparkling stars and just existed. No worries, no talking.

It was one of the few times you and Hyunjin hadn’t fought.

“That was also the first night I said I loved you,” Hyunjin added softly, pulling you from your thoughts. You stared at him in silence, too shocked to say anything. “I also remember the time you tried to make french toast,” he continued, a chuckle slipping out. “And you burnt everything to a crisp!”

He was laughing now and you lightly slapped his shoulder. “Lawrence and Edith are sleeping!” you hissed but couldn’t stop the smile that started to spread across your face. You remembered that moment, too. “It tasted awful!” Hyunjin added. You rolled your eyes.

“I told you that you didn’t have to eat it!” you reminded him. “My girlfriend went out of her way to make me breakfast in bed. How could I not eat it?” The mention of the word girlfriend made your heart jump again. You stared at him, the only light being from the flood light outside reflecting off the snow.

Hyunjin pushed himself up onto his elbow to see your face better. “I miss that,” he replied. “Miss what? My cooking mishaps?” you asked with a scoff. Hyunjin chuckled but shook his head, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek. “Calling you my girlfriend,” he replied softly. You stared up at him, heat radiating from his palm against your cheek. “Hyun,” you whisper.

You needed to stop him. ‘This is dangerous territory. You’re sharing a bed in an elderly couple’s home in the middle of a snowstorm.’ “What?” he asked softly, leaning closer, hovering over you now. ‘We shouldn’t,’ part of you wanted to say. ‘We can’t.’ You had to stop him but part of you didn’t want to.

So instead, you said nothing, instead staring up at him silently. Hyunjin’s eyes dipped down to look at your lips once before he leaned in, closing the distance and pressing his lips against yours. You accepted the gesture, arms snaking around his neck and pulling him closer.

You knew this shouldn’t happen but what was one last time?

Hyunjin pulled back, lips just inches from yours. “Y/N,” he murmured, his hand moving to your waist. “Maybe we shouldn’t--”

You cut him off with another kiss, this time pulling him over you. Hyunjin followed your movements, careful not to put his weight on you as he settled between your thighs. “Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a moan from you.

His lips left a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, stopping to nip at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. Your thighs tightened around his waist, another mewl leaving your lips. You felt his hand push your shirt up, immediately taking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue circling it as he sucked. “H-Hyunjin,” you whispered. He pulled back, looking at you with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. “Nothing,” you breathed, moving a hand up to grip his hair, guiding his head back down to your chest. “Just feels good.” Hyunjin wasted no time, taking your nipple back on his mouth, one of his hands tucked under your back against the mattress while the other trailed down your body, sneaking between your bodies as he fumbled to push your shorts and underwear aside.

You let out another moan as his fingers found your slick entrance, tracing it before spreading your lips and finding your clit. “I forgot how wet you get,” Hyunjin groaned. “I could just slide right in.”

As if to demonstrate his point, he eased one of his fingers into you, almost with a sigh as if it brought him some sort of relief. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you, adding a second slowly and marveling at the way your walls sucked him in.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, lips leaving your chest to meet yours in a sloppy kiss. You moaned into his lips as his fingers continued to move, scissoring you open. It had been so long since you’d had sex with anyone that you were sure the last time you did was with Hyunjin before your inevitable break up.

But now, it was like no time had passed. Hyunjin still knew your body just like he did before. He knew what you liked and didn’t like as it hadn’t had time to change. It wasn’t like the first time you ever had sex with him. He wasn’t a nervous wreck, murmuring a sorry every five minutes.

He was a practiced lover, having had years to get accustomed to your body and you to his.

You let out a whine as Hyunjin pulled his fingers from your cunt, pressing a tender kiss against your collar before bringing his fingers to his mouth, cleaning them of your arousal. “Hyun,” you started but he cut you off with another kiss, groaning as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

He started to kiss his way down your neck again, down your chest and stomach as he reached the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them down, pulling your panties along with them and discarding them on the floor. He continued to kiss down your exposed skin until his head was between your thighs.

He pressed a quick kiss to your thigh before diving into you, spreading your folds and giving your sex a slow lick, almost groaning at the taste. You felt his lips wrap around your clit and you gasped out a moan, louder than you had intended.

“Shh,” Hyunjin whispered, lifting his head to look at you. “We have to keep it down,” he added. You nodded, murmuring out an apology. Hyunjin’s head dipped down, tongue flattening against your clit once more. Your hands snaked down, fingers curling in his hair as his tongue teased you closer and closer to the edge.

You warned him you were close and regretted it immediately as he pulled back. “Not yet,” he growled as you whined, trying to push his head back down. “Wanna cum together.” You sat up and pushed him down onto the bed, ignoring the squeaking of the frame as you struggled to pull his pants down.

Hyunjin fought the urge to laugh at your impatience as you managed to pull his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock from its confines. The laughter died before he could even let it out when he felt your fingers wrap around his cock. He shuddered as you spit on the tip, using it to lubricate your movements, stroking him quickly.

“Shit, baby,” Hyunjin hissed. “Slow down.”

You hummed in response but didn’t listen to his request. You added more spit and continued to pump your hand, looking up to meet his heated gaze. Your lips curled into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed, knowing the look in your eye.

“Then fuck me already.”

Hyunjin grabbed your wrist, pulled your hand off him and pushed you onto your back, settling between your thighs as he took his length in his own hand, guiding the tip to your slit. “Only because you asked so nicely,” he murmured as he rubbed against you before pushing into you.

“Oh, shit!” you gasped as he slid into you. You glanced up at him, taking in his messy hair and flushed cheeks. His lips were swollen from your kisses, still glistening from tasting you earlier. You tugged at the base of his shirt, drawing his attention as he bottomed out.

“Off,” you whined. Hyunjin chuckled, grabbing his shirt and pulling it off, tossing it aside before he leaned over, placing his hands on either side of your head on the mattress. His hips pulled back only slightly before giving you a measure thrusts, making sure there wasn’t any restriction or discomfort.

“I’m fine,” you gasped, grabbing his bicep and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Just move, please.”

Hyunjin took your pleas to heart, snapping his hips and driving his cock into you. You moaned as softly as you could manage. Hyunjin set a firm but steady pace, losing himself in the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him, fluttering as each thrust pushed you towards the edge.

“Slowly,” he reminded himself verbally. “Wanna cum together.”

You whined as he slowed to a roll, the head of his cock brushing against the spongy soft spot inside you. “Oh fuck, Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin gave you a lopsided grin as he aimed for the same spot. “Right there, yeah?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“Feels good when I fuck you, doesn’t it?” he asked, keeping his eyes on your face as he watched it contort in pleasure. “Only I know how to properly fuck you, isn’t that right?” You nodded, letting out a mewl as he slammed into you, punctuating his words.

“Say it, baby. I need to hear it.”

“Only you can fuck me right, Hyun.”

You heard him groan as his hips stuttered. “Only you,” you added for good measure.

“Shit, that’s right,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice barely audible of the sound of his cock pistoning in and out of you, a thin layer of sweat starting to collect on his skin from exertion. “Remember how you used to beg me for audio of me getting myself off?” he asked suddenly.

You did remember. You had told him early on in your sex life that you loved it when your partners moaned so Hyunjin would send you audio of him moaning as he touched himself. You saved almost all of them but deleted them after the break up.

“Used to love listening to me, didn’t you?”

You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Hyunjin let out a moan, slowing his hips to a roll again, making you feel almost every inch of his cock. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby,” he said as his head dropped into the crook of your neck, punctuating his next sentence with thrusts.

“So,” thrust. “Fucking,” thrust. “Tight,” thrust.

Your walls clenched around him, making him slow in an attempt to prolong his own orgasm. He wanted to indulge in you a little longer because he knew at some point this would end and you would eventually go your own ways but he wasn’t ready for that just yet. He needed to make this last as long as he could.

“Hyunnie,” you whined, hips moving to meet his, desperate for more friction. Hyunjin lifted his head, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek as he took your lips in a passionate kiss. “Faster, please,” you begged against his lips. Hyunjin couldn’t resist when you begged him, your voice breathless as he filled you with his cock over and over.

But he needed to. “Shhh,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he rolled his hips again. “Just enjoy it,” he added, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, chuckling when you chased him for more.

“I promise I’ll fuck you real good, sweetheart,” he continued. “Just let me enjoy this.”

You fell silent, looking up at his face, eyes shut as he focused. “Hyun,” you whined, trying to get him to look at you. “Please baby,” you cooed. You knew he normally couldn’t resist the plea in the past, not when you called him baby. His lips twitched as he fought off a smile.

“Not going to work, angel,” he replied softly, slowing his hips entirely and stilling inside you. You whined in protest, trying to move your hips but strong hands held you in place. “If you don’t stop that, I won’t let you cum at all,” Hyunjin warned. Your brows rose as you contemplated fighting him.

Finally, you huffed and admitted defeat. “Fine.”

Hyunjin leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Good girl,” he murmured, not missing the way you clenched around him. “Such a good girl for me,” he continued, taking full advantage of your weakness. “Doing so good and taking me so well.”

You whined again. “Hyunjin!” you whimpered. He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours again, one hand finding one of yours and lacing his fingers with yours. He pinned your hand against the pillows, lifting his hips and uttered a single warning in your ear.

“Don’t scream,” he whispered.

You didn’t have the chance to ask what he was talking about when the first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. He’d held back earlier and you knew he did but now he wasn’t going to. Your moans turned into cries, rising in volume and pitch. Hyunjin hissed, moving his free hand to cover your mouth as he pounded into you.

“I told you not to scream,” he muttered as he muffled your screams, his hips slamming against yours. “Fuck,” Hyunjin groaned. “M’gonna cum. You close, baby?” You nodded, moaning loudly against his hand. “That’s it, baby,” Hyunjin said breathlessly. “Let go and cum for me.”

Your walls contracted around his cock, your toes curling as stars exploded in your vision, a searing white hot feeling spread throughout your body from your fingertips to your toes. At the same moment, you felt Hyunjin’s cock twitch inside you, signifying his own orgasm. His teeth sank into your shoulder as he came with a groan, spilling his hot load into you as his hips continued to move, fucking it further into you.

“Oh shit,” he gasped as he fucked the last of his release into you before his hips finally stilled and he let out a heavy sigh. You pushed his hand off your mouth, breaths coming out in pants as you tried to come down from your high. You felt Hyunjin pull out of you carefully, his seed starting to spill out onto the sheets.

“Ah, shit,” he cursed, rolling out of bed and hurrying to pull his pants back on. He disappeared and returned a moment later with a towel and started to wipe your thighs and clean the cum off the bed sheets. “I think I was quick enough,” he murmured.

Once he was certain he’d gotten it all, he helped you back into your panties and shorts, pulling the blankets back over the two of you as you settled against the mattress, him beside you. “Y/N?” you heard him ask softly and opened your eyes, rolling back to look at him. “Hmm?” you replied.

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you. “Can I hold you?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nodded, turning back over as Hyunjin scooted into position behind you, one arm snaking under your head beneath the pillow and the other going around your waist. You felt his chest press against your back and felt a warmth envelop you.

The two of you were silent for a moment before Hyunjin spoke. “I miss you,” he muttered into your hair, almost too quiet for you to hear but you did hear it. “Hyunjin,” you started but he tightened his arm around your waist. “Please, let me finish,” he begged. You fell silent and nodded.

“I miss you so much, Y/N. Ever since that last day in the apartment. The day I came to get my stuff. I had the opportunity to tell you how much I loved you. And I messed up,” he fell silent and you waited, hearing him swallow the lump in his throat.

“I messed up so bad, baby. I know that. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve done. I loved you so much that not being with you nearly killed me. I stopped leaving my apartment, I stopped going to work, I stopped eating. The only thing that numbed the pain was drinking and it only worked for so long.”

Your breath caught as you listened to Hyunjin. “Please believe when I say that I’m not blaming you. Everything that happened to me was my own fault. I guess I just didn’t want to live without you. When I lost my job and then my apartment and was back on my friend’s couch, it finally hit me that I couldn’t wallow in my misery. I had to go on. You had told me to live a good life and I wasn’t doing that. So I sought help,” he continued.

“I got clean, found a better job, moved into my own place, and started living that life you told me to live. Because you told me to live a good life, I got to meet you again.” You blinked away tears as Hyunjin spoke, not wanting to give into the emotions you’d been trying to suppress.

“The universe brought us together again and I feel like it was for a reason,” he continued to speak softly. “I believe in second chances. I know you do, too. I want us to try again. We’re not the same people we were eight years ago,” he hesitated and you took this as a moment for you to speak.

“I don’t know what to say, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “This is a lot of information to throw at me at once.”

Hyunjin nodded, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “I know,” he murmured. “But I loved you, Y/N. I still love you. I regret everyday I didn’t spend reminding you of that.” You took a deep breath and turned over to look up at him. “Can we talk about this another time?” you asked, blinking away the burning in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin moved his hand to cup your cheek and nodded.

“Of course,” he replied. “Whatever you want.” Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. He pulled back and you turned back to face forward as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you snug against him.

You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping sleep would come sooner rather than later.

The next morning Hyunjin awoke to find light filtering into the bedroom. He groggily opened his eyes and looked around the room. Your side of the bed was empty and he sat up, checking the time on his watch. He dressed in silence. He headed down the stairs, looking for any sign of life.

Upon entering the kitchen he found Edith sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. She looked up and smiled as Hyunjin looked around. “There’s breakfast in the microwave for you,” she said, getting up and walking over to open the door on the appliance, pulling out a plate and guiding him to sit at the table.

Hyunjin’s heart started to pound as he looked around but saw no sight of you anywhere. “Where’s Y/N?” he asked, looking up at Edith who patted him on the back, gesturing for him to eat. “She caught a cab early this morning,” Edith said softly. “Said she had important business to attend to.”

Hyunjin’s stomach sank. ‘You left? After last night? After everything? You just…left?’ He looked down at the plate, the corners of his eyes burning, Blinking the urge to cry away he composed himself and looked up. “Where’s Lawrence?” he asked suddenly. “Oh, he went to dig your car out of the snow! A neighbor came to help him pull the car out of the ditch but they needed to dig it out first.”

Hyunjin nodded wordlessly and ate in silence while Edith read something on her tablet.

Once he was finished, Edith took his plate and started rinsing it off. As she was putting it in the dishwasher, the front door opened and moments later, Lawrence appeared, dressed in a thick winter coat, coveralls, and boots.

He had a black wool hat jammed onto his head and smiled at Hyunjin as he pulled his mask down.

“Good news!” he said excitedly. Hyunjin perked up immediately, the irrational side of his brain hoping you had returned. Instead he was greeted with news that his car was now dug out and waiting in the driveway for him. Hyunjin forced a smile, thanking Lawrence.

“And they’ve been by to clear the roads,” Edith added, turning to Hyunjin with a smile. Hyunjin thanked them both and headed up to gather his things. As he moved around the room, he noticed the towel he’d used the night prior to clean up the mess you’d both made in the bed.

Hyunjin grimaced and decided to pull the sheets and tuck them up in a wad to carry down to put in the wash himself so he didn’t have to explain to Edith what it was staining her nice floral sheets. Once he was certain he had all his things, Hyunjin headed downstairs, dropping his bag by the front door before walking into the living room where Lawrence was warming up by the fire and Edith working on some form of needle work, possibly crochet, Hyunjin wasn’t sure.

She looked up as he walked over. “I wanted to get these in the laundry for you,” Hyunjin explained. “Oh that’s okay, dear,” she said as she set her work aside and got up. “I can do it,” she added, reaching for the bundle. Hyunjin internally cringed and pulled back slightly. “It’s okay. I’ve already got it in my hands. Just point me in the right direction,” he replied.

Edith gave him a knowing smile and pointed to the laundry room off the kitchen. Hyunjin thanked her and moved to open the door, opening the washing machine and dumping the sheets and blankets and towel into the drum. He added some soap and fabric softener before setting the timer and starting the machine.

Back in the living room, he found Edith back in her spot and Lawrence now sitting in his armchair with a newspaper. Hyunjin cleared his throat, catching both their attention and they looked up at him.

“Well,” he started awkwardly. “I think I’ll head out,” he continued. “We’ll walk you out,” Lawrence said, setting his newspaper aside and getting to his feet as Edith set her project aside and got up as well. Hyunjin walked towards the door with the couple following. He pulled on his coat, wrapping his scarf around his neck before tugging his beanie on.

“Walk him to his car,” Edith whispered, lightly hitting her husband’s chest. He moved to get his coat but Hyunjin stopped him. “Really, it’s okay,” Hyunjin reassured them. “You’ve done so much for Y/N and I.” Hyunjin pulled on his shoes and grabbed his bag.

“You’ve gone above and beyond what anyone else would do,” he continued. “Even though Y/N isn’t here to thank you, I’m thanking you for her.”

Edith smiled at him. “She already thanked us,” she explained. “Oh, she left a note!” she added when she noticed the confused expression on Hyunjin’s face and moved into the kitchen before returning with a paper note and handing it to Hyunjin. He read the writing on the sheet which he recognized as yours.

‘So she left a note,’ he told himself, forcing a smile as he handed it back. “That was nice of her,” he said shortly. Edith smiled, producing an envelope. “She also left this and asked me to give it to you,” she added, holding out the envelope. Hyunjin took it curiously and thanked her.

“Drive carefully!” Edith said as Hyunjin opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, his bag slung over his shoulder. “And no more driving into ditches,” Lawrence joked. Hyunjin laughed and nodded. “I’ll do my best. Thank you so much for everything,” Hyunjin said again and with a wave, he carefully made his way down the steps and started the trek back towards the road.

He was halfway down the driveway when his black sedan came into view and he smiled, picking up the pace as he hurried to his car. He unlocked the door and after tugging a couple times, managed to break the ice and pull the door open. He got in, kicking the snow off his shoes and dumping his bag onto the front seat. He shut the door and looked around.

Everything seemed in order. He said a little prayer before turning the engine over and the car surprisingly roared to life, Hyunjin cheering with an excited laugh. He immediately turned the dials and got the defroster and heater working. He pulled his hat off and threw it into the passenger seat. As he shed more layers, he caught sight of the envelope and stared at it for a few moments.

What could you have possibly needed to say that you could haven’t waited to tell him?

Hyunjin fought with himself on whether or not to read it, going back and forth until he finally grabbed the letter with a groan and opened it. At least he’d have something to do while he waited for his car to warm up. He pulled the letter out and unfolded it, eyes scanning the sheet before him.

Hyunjin, I’m sorry for leaving like this. I know it’s wrong and makes it seem like I’m running from my problems and maybe I am but I can’t give you an answer. I know it’s not what you want to hear but I’m just not sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I thought I was okay and that I was over you but seeing you at the party and then getting stranded and having to share a bed and then what happened last night. It feels like things happened so fast and I didn’t have time to catch up. I couldn’t process it all in a few hours. I need more time. I need to think about everything you said and what’s going on in my own mind. There’s a lot for both of us to think about although you made it pretty clear where your mind is last night. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still feel something for you because I do. I do feel something for you and it scares me. I didn’t want to make a decision in the heat of the moment and come to regret it so instead I’m going to take some time to think. I also want to thank you. For offering to give me a ride home, even if we did get stranded. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. And thank you for opening up to me and being honest with me. I’ve seen a much different side of you. One that reminds me of the man you were when we first met. I don’t want to use up all of Edith’s letter paper so I’ll end with this: Don’t hesitate to reach out and when I’m ready, I’ll contact you. xxx-xxx-xxxx

Hyunjin’s vision blurred and he hastily wiped the tears from his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips.

For the first time since the car slid off the road the other night, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

He felt hopeful.

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#16 days of smutmas 2023 #cultofdionysusnet #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fanfiction #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

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changbunnies · 1 month

Text

Piece of a Puzzle, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Duke’s Son!Seungmin x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, fake dating, angst, fluff, love triangle, best friends to fake lovers to real lovers, so much pining from seungmin, slow burn-ish?, eventual smut

♡ Word Count: 20.4k (lmao it was not supposed to be this long...)

♡ Summary: For as long as Seungmin can remember, he’s been in love with you; and for as long as he can remember, you’ve been in love with Hyunjin. Desperate for Hyunjin to see you as a woman and no longer as a best friend or metaphorical sister, you ask Seungmin to pretend to be your boyfriend to make him jealous- you have nothing to lose, and nothing could go wrong! At least, that’s what you both think until your fake relationship with Seungmin begins to reveal feelings for you that he wanted to keep buried, and feelings in you that you didn't realize you had.

♡ Warnings: I know some people hate love triangles so if that is you then this fic is not for you I am sorry gsddgfd, I also wouldn't read this if you're not okay with characters who make mistakes and act selfishly lol, seungmin says mean things but it's all in the spirit of teasing and banter and he is not actually a mean person I promise, mentions of falling in freezing water, being sick + taking medicine, and mc makes 1 joke about killing seungmin.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): virgin reader + virgin seungmin, loss of virginity, no intended d/s dynamics but reader is usually the one taking the lead lol, lots of kissing per usual, handjob, nipple play, unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: it took me forever to come back to this series but the next member to get their royal au fic is seungmin <3 unlike my previous royal au fics, this one is in a modern setting which i hope makes for a fun dynamic and is a good change of pace from my other aus !

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

If you were to ask Seungmin what his favorite thing about having two best friends was, it would've been how special it was to be a trio. You, Seungmin, Hyunjin- the three of you inseparable since you were babies, spending hours giving the attendants and guards watching over you trouble, getting into snowball fights in the winter and camping out in the gardens during the summer.

Countless days spent splashing around in the lakes and ponds near your estates and coming back with muddied feet, making messes in the kitchens when you disastrously tried to figure out how to bake a cake for your upcoming birthday, and giggling to each other even as your elders got red in the face from scolding you.

It was perfect, really- the happiest days of Seungmin's life, all spent in carefree bliss.. until you all started to get older. It was all so mindless when you were children; all Seungmin ever really comprehended back then was that you were all of similar age, and becoming friends was a natural and perfect arrangement thanks to your parents (who Seungmin realized were all important people, though he was too young at the time to understand why or how.) You, the princess in the east, Hyunjin, the prince in the west, and Seungmin, the duke's son born in the middle of both territories, whose father allied himself to both nations and was a revered peacekeeper.

He can still remember fondly the nights before it all became so different; when you'd have guard sanctioned sleepovers in the ballroom, how you'd run and splash in the rain, your laughter carrying even as the three of you became soaked and eventually scolded for dripping water onto the pristine castle floors. You'd slip out of royal events to go hangout together on the balconies, in the library, or anywhere really, as long as it wasn't full to the brim with your pretentious elders talking politics and future marriage.

But Seungmin made the mistake of falling in love with you, and you fell in love with Hyunjin, and that's where it all falls apart.

The situation is dramatic, you're dramatic- the way you whine and flail on the bed, claims of how you'll "just die" if Hyunjin doesn't finally realize you're the woman of his dreams. Seungmin sits across from you on your chaise near the balcony of your extravagant bedroom, trying not to react too strongly one way or the other. As the only person you can confide in on this topic, Seungmin is used to hearing you pour your heart out to him about Hyunjin.

He likes to think he's used to it, anyways; that it doesn't hurt anymore because he simply doesn't let it, but any outsider looking in would be able to tell that isn't true. His smile falters, his bright eyes dull, his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach- because you will never love him with the same intensity you love Hyunjin. But it's been this way for years now; you are hopelessly in love with the prince of the neighboring country, while Seungmin is tragically in love with you. He really should just get over it already.

You've gone on and on and on about how Hyunjin is the ideal man- beautiful, educated, kind, dependable, artistic- everything Seungmin feels he cannot compare to. It's so pathetic, he feels pathetic; he never even put much thought on being of equal standing to the two of you until you started confiding in him about your feelings for Hyunjin, pouring out your heart and simultaneously breaking his with each new admission. Seungmin himself didn't even realize how in love with you he was until he was firmly faced with rejection; and it's almost funny how he's rejected before he can even try.

"I just want him to like, finally see me as a woman, y'know? I'm not the little girl you guys grew up with anymore!" you wail before shoving your face into one of your many pillows, huffing and whining in frustration as you kick your feet up and down. Apparently, you have come to find out that Hyunjin still views you as more of a sister than a potential lover, and you've spent the entire afternoon whining as you try to think of what else you can possibly do to make Hyunjin see you differently.

Seungmin wishes he could do the same- make you see him differently, as someone other than the best friend, almost brotherly figure you grew up with. But it's not meant to be, and Hyunjin has already won the race for your affection without even realizing he was part of it. "Stop being so dramatic," Seungmin complains half-heartedly, hoping you think his deadpan tone comes from just being mildly annoyed and not in fact utterly heartbroken.

You lift your head from the pillows and glare at him, but he just rolls his eyes before he lets his own head fall back against the cushion of the chaise, staring up at your impossibly pristine ceiling. "But we're a perfect match! He's a prince, I'm a princess, and I love him!" you whine, throwing one of your pillows at Seungmin when all he does is scoff instead of console you.

He throws the pillow back at you without even turning his head in your direction, and you throw it back harder than you did before, making him finally turn his gaze back in your direction. "Will you stop? Crybaby," Seungmin says, hoping to shift the conversation back to something that doesn't tear his heart to shreds. "Maybe he'd like you more if you weren't such a brat when you don't get your way."

"Seungmin!" your frown grows as you cross your arms, "do you have to be so mean to me when I'm literally heartbroken?" He has a point, that's true enough- you are acting a bit like a spoiled brat right now. But he could at least wait until later to call you out on it! You don't understand why he's always so mean when it comes to your feelings about Hyunjin. It's his personality to tease and be playfully mean in his banter, but when your feelings for your other best friend are the topic it never feels like it's purely in jest.

"Look, I get that he and his family are starting to consider who he'll marry, but it's not like he's actually seeing anyone yet. I'm sure you still have time," Seungmin suggests after a frustrated sigh, and you huff, falling back to the pillows and staring up at your ceiling with yet another dramatic sigh. "Maybe you just don't get it because you've never been in love. The thought of losing him to someone else is.. painful.."

It's a moment of real vulnerability at the end, the pain and fear in your voice when the last words leave your lips evident. If only you knew he does understand all too well, faced with the very same reality every single day. You deal with your pain by complaining to Seungmin in overdramatic displays, while he bottles it all up and shoves it as deep inside his heart as it can go, hoping that he won't have to acknowledge the pain again until he's alone, in the safety of his bedroom where no one can see or hear him agonize over his unrequited love.

But like Seungmin said, there's still time.. Hyunjin and his family are looking over marriage prospects together, but at the end of the day the choice is entirely Hyunjin's, and surely there's something you can do before he starts going on dates and falls in love with someone else. You shoot up quickly, the apparent clarity zapping you with an idea. "You're a genius, Minnie! I don't have to wait for him to return my feelings at all, I can do something!"

"Uh... you're welcome..?" Seungmin sits back up and looks over at you, and he instantly regrets it. You're looking at him with puppy dog eyes, lip pouty and hands clamped together in what is clearly a plea for help. He's not even sure he wants to know what you're thinking of roping him into- whatever plan it is you're crafting, nothing good can come from it. Especially not when your plot is being conjured by pure emotional need.

"Seungmin.. Be my boyfriend, please! Help me make him jealous," you plea and his eyes instantly widen, mouth hanging open in complete shock. He and Hyunjin have had to talk you out of a lot of irrational acts during their time as your friend, but this takes the fucking cake. There's no way you are asking him to do this. "You can't be serious," he says after the initial shock passes and now you scramble to the edge of the bed, pout growing as you try to convince him.

"Seungmin, please-" "Absolutely not, no," he cuts you off and the desperate, heartbroken look he's met with shatters the already microscopic pieces of his heart into even smaller pieces- a feat he didn't even think possible. It's almost impressive how you manage to break his heart without even realizing it.

"Please, you know there's no one else I can ask," you plea, now completely off the bed and just inches in front of him, clasping his hands in yours. There it is- Seungmin, the consolation prize. Seungmin, the one you turn to simply because Hyunjin isn't available. Seungmin, who gets dragged into schemes like this because he just can't live with himself if he knows you're genuinely upset.

Your puppy eyes looking at him so pleadingly paired with your soft hands desperately clutching his is enough to make him melt. He swallows, averting his gaze from your pouting lips and glassy eyes, trying to stay firm in his sentiment. "It's a bad idea," he says, voice short and impossibly tense, "what will you do if it doesn't work? If he's just like.. a good friend, and supports us being happy together?"

"But what if he doesn't? C'mon Minnie, we at least have to try!" you push on, your hands squeezing his tighter. The fact that his statement doesn't seem to deter you at all somehow makes the pain in his chest even worse. Like there's no reality in which Seungmin is the viable love interest for you, like the possibility that Hyunjin would concede your heart to him couldn't ever be reality, like the idea isn't even worth entertaining.

"I.." He hesitates as he finally looks at you again, your face still impossibly close to his, the earnest desperation for him to help you with this stupid idea making his chest feel impossibly tight. Seungmin likes to think he's good at pretending to not have feelings for you, but he doesn't think he can do it while also pretending to be your boyfriend.

How is he supposed to be so close to you and pretend it was all empty acts and words when the night is over? He'll tell you he loves you and you'll think it's part of the act, praise him for being so committed to the bit for your sake, thank him for pretending so effectively. You'll take his heart in your hands and twist and bleed and crush it, and you won't even know you're doing it. "Please?" you try once more and his resolve utterly crumbles.

It's stupid how much power you have over him. It's stupid how he can't stand firm against what is very clearly a disastrous idea. It's stupid how he's going to willingly allow his heart to be trampled upon just to make you happy. "..Fine," Seungmin finally breathes out his answer, conceding without all that much of a fight in the end.

You happily squeal and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, thanking him over and over again. And despite himself, Seungmin smiles- because even though he's going to suffer, at least you'll be happy because of him, even if it's only for a short while. "You're the best, Minnie! I love you!" you beam, eyes crinkling with pure joy that he's going to help you.

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome," he says as he wraps his arms around you in return. It's a mistake, but if it's for you then isn't it a mistake worth making? And he has to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when you told him you loved him, has to remind himself that you'll never mean it in the way he wants you to, that every show of affection from this point onward will all be part of an elaborate performance.

The first rule of every fake relationship: set expectations and make a plan.

That's exactly why Seungmin finds himself visiting your room again following his foolish promise to be your pretend boyfriend. You bounce up to him in delight when he enters your room following a knock on the door, and he wishes that your excitement was genuinely for him, and not because you were going to be using him to make your shared best friend jealous.

Seungmin doesn't even believe Hyunjin will be jealous in the first place; he's never expressed having a romantic interest in you, and he thinks Hyunjin would confide in him if he did. But then again, it's not like Seungmin has ever confessed his feelings over you to Hyunjin either.. And the possibility that Hyunjin does love you, but simply never brought it up in the same way that Seungmin hasn't fills him with dread.

If this stupid plan works, and Seungmin actually helps you two come together.. he wants to think he'll be happy for you two, but who is he kidding? He'll be fucking gutted. "You look handsome today, boyfriend," you tell Seungmin happily, and he immediately freezes in place, hoping his expression is more incredulous than it is embarrassingly flushed red. What a way to be ripped out of his spiraling thoughts.

"Can you warn me next time you're about to say something stupid?" Seungmin tries to play it off as he takes his usual place on your chaise. "Sorry, just practicing," you follow up with a giggle, and he simply sighs as he watches you sit next to him. He's really gotten himself into trouble this time around, but it's too late to rescind his agreement to help your cause.

"I don't think most couples literally call each other "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" to their faces," Seungmin says, trying to smoothly ignore the 'handsome' part of your comment. It's superficial, you don't mean it, he already knows that; best not to let his mind dwell on a false hope of you one day meaning those words. "Well duh, I already know that," you say as you roll your eyes, "I'm just getting into character!"

Ouch. You have to get into character to love him, huh? It's not like he's surprised to hear it, but it hurts all the same. "Can't be too sure with you, sheltered princess and all," he teases and you roll your eyes again. "I'm not that sheltered. And TV exists! I'll have you know romance is my favorite genre."

"Great, so you get all your knowledge on romance from TV? How promising," Seungmin continues and you shove him, though all he does in response is smile at you. "Whatever, it's not like you know what you're doing either. You've never even had a girlfriend," you say and for a moment you think Seungmin is going to shove you back, but he doesn't.

His hands rise and almost touch you, but he hesitates before ultimately lowering them back down to his lap. It's been that way since you started getting older, as if the days you'd play wrestle or sleep while hunched together or hold hands while skipping through the castle never happened. Thinking about it, he stopped doing things like that around the same time you brought up your feelings for Hyunjin.

You assume he was being considerate, trying to be hands off so Hyunjin didn't get the wrong idea, but.. You wonder why you didn't realize how much he's been keeping his distance from you and hesitating to touch you until now? (And in reality, he stopped touching you when he realized he had feelings for you, and not when you admitted you like Hyunjin, but he's never going to clarify that fact to you.)

The other day, when you clutched his hands in yours in a desperate plea, it was the first time you held hands since you were kids. That's a sad thought, for some reason.. Maybe part of you missed it more than you realized. Taking his hand in yours, you really allow yourself to experience it this time.

It's nostalgic, holding his hand; though Seungmin's hands are much bigger now than when you were kids, they feel the same. Warm, comforting, gentle.. You wonder when the last time you did this was; you almost feel bad that you can't remember. You were once holding hands every single day and then you just.. stopped. You're not sure why the thought makes you as sad as it does; probably just the natural melancholy that comes with nostalgia if you had to guess.

Seungmin awkwardly accepts your hold, looking at you curiously after he stops fidgeting his hand. "I kinda missed this," you admit, cheeks growing pink with the admission. You're not sure why saying it makes you blush- it's just Seungmin. "Me too," he responds, his own face equally as pink, though he hopes you don't notice. He looks down at your hands, fingers laced together, and his heart stirs.

Ignoring it, he looks back to you, expression nervous but entirely serious. "So uh- your plan.. what exactly is it?" he asks, surprised when you answer immediately. Guess you put a lot of thought into it; because while your answer isn't rehearsed necessarily, it is confident. "Well, you got your invitation to the ball right? That's where we'll tell Hyunjin we're dating! It's the perfect setting."

"But you literally hate going to that thing- are we really going to go just for that?" The annual Hwang family ball is much more politics than it is dancing. Seungmin can't think of a single time you all attended and actually had fun without having to sneak away or cause a scene. At best it's boring and at worst you're spending the entire night being lectured on the future of your countries and how important it is to marry the right person for political power.

"Yeah, unless you have a better idea?" You frown as you look at Seungmin. He doesn't, unfortunately. He's not even sure he'd suggest it if he did have one, to be fair. God, this is so stupid- he's stupid for agreeing to go along with this. Curse you and your ability to rope him into the worst things possible just by giving him a cute look.

And in the end, he easily accepts the plan- attend the ball, act like a lovey dovey couple, activate Hyunjin's underlying jealousy (that may not actually exist), and hopefully profit. In the meantime, you'll be "building credibility" by getting past all the awkwardness now, so that you can pass as a legit couple in front of Hyunjin when the time comes.

"You're really okay with this, right? It's okay to change your mind," you say with a compassionate squeeze to his hand. It takes Seungmin by surprise that you're actually considering his feelings- not to insinuate that you're entirely selfish or don't care about him, but you do tend to have a one track mind when it comes to your romantic feelings for Hyunjin.

You watch him carefully, his expression entirely unreadable to you. You wish you could tell what he was thinking in times like this, but he always becomes a stonewall when you bring up romance and your long harbored feelings. You know it must be for a reason, but he never tells you what it is, and you can only assume the topic of love makes him uncomfortable; and while you're grateful for his help, you don't want him to push through discomfort just for your sake.

"..Yeah, I'm good. This is fine, everything's fine," he finally says. You don't entirely believe him, but you don't press him on it- he'll just argue with you if you don't take his word for it. Stupid. You were clearly offering him an out and he just accepted his role as your emotional martyr. But who is he kidding- it's not like he would've been able to answer any differently, ever a slave to your whims.

Whether you realize it or not, you have him in the palm of your hands, and Seungmin would do anything to make you happy- even at the detriment to himself. "So.. uh, do you want to kiss me?" you transition and Seungmin has to make a conscious effort to not choke on his own spit. Because how are you asking him that so casually?

"No, you're gross," he answers; a lie, obviously, but he didn't realize this fake relationship would entail anything other than mild displays of affection and maybe the use of petnames. If he kisses you it's over for him. Completely, utterly over- he'll never be able to pretend you're just his friend ever again.

You roll your eyes as you let go of his hand, and he frowns; he misses the warmth already, but what right does he have? "You can just say no without the gross comment, asshole," you shove him again. Seungmin is always mean to you, so it's not like you weren't expecting a comment like that when you decided to bring up kissing. You might've hoped for a different reaction, but you certainly weren't expecting anything profound or romantic.

...Why were you hoping for a different reaction in the first place?

"No, that's- I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, I just-" It's almost endearing how Seungmin fumbles with his words. You blink at him, surprised to see him floundering to admit you're not actually gross to him. Poor Seungmin- being mean to you is his only defense mechanism and now it's going to bite him in the ass. No wonder you don't have feelings for him.

In reality, he thinks you're pretty. So fucking pretty. And he wants to kiss you more than he's ever wanted anything. "Force of habit," he finally says, swallowing down his true thoughts and feelings as usual. Thankfully, you accept his answer easily; he's not sure whether you truly believe him or not, but he'll take what he can get. "Have you ever kissed someone?" you decide to ask, moving swiftly along after taking his answer at face value. Thank God.

"Once," he answers, and oh, that's a surprise; you expected him to say 'no,' to be like you- with zero experience. You're best friends- why hasn't he told you..? To be fair, it's not that Seungmin kissed someone- he was the one being kissed by someone else. The distinction is very important! And he can see the question lingering before you even ask it, so he takes the initiative in answering. "It was awkward. I didn't.. feel the same way as them."

"Oh. I didn't realize there are people that like you," you say and Seungmin instantly shoots you with an incredulous look. "Ouch," he deadpans. "No, sorry- I didn't mean for that to sound so mean, I swear," you promise with an awkward laugh. At least now you're equal on the "making unintentionally hurtful comments" front.

You've thought at great length what it would be like if Hyunjin started dating someone, but you're just now realizing you never put any thought into Seungmin dating someone. You guess you just always expected that he'd be there.. you never stopped to think about what would happen if he wasn't, never even considered it a possibility that he wouldn't always be right there next to you.

And it would happen eventually, wouldn't it? And what about when you and Hyunjin are a couple; you two will have each other and Seungmin will.. well, you don't know what he'll do. But you don't like the thought of him being anymore distant. What a way to realize how selfish you're being. “Sucks that it was awkward,” you eventually say, ignoring the way guilt starts to eat at you. No surprise that the selfish princess doesn’t want to confront that issue just yet.

“Yeah.. honestly, I felt bad. I’m sure it took a lot of courage to confess and kiss me, but I,” already had feelings for you, he thinks, but obviously opts to say something else, “just didn’t feel the same.” Lord knows Seungmin will never have that same level of courage; to put yourself out there and confess only to be met firmly with rejection is terrifying. And he knows you don’t feel the same, so why even try? Being a coward suits him perfectly fine in this case.

“Why didn’t you accept anyways? You might’ve returned the feelings after becoming a couple and growing closer to them,” you ask, earnestly curious. You think you would give someone a chance if they confessed to you if you weren’t already so in love with Hyunjin. But as far as you knew, Seungmin didn’t have feelings for anyone, so there would’ve been nothing to lose from trying. If only that were true- his life would be much easier if he wasn’t earth shatteringly in love with you.

“Mm, maybe. But if months went by and I still didn’t, I would’ve felt scummy. Like I was stringing them along and giving them a false promise, y’know? And I don’t wanna be that guy,” Seungmin answers, keeping out the major detail of ‘I’m also impossibly in love with you and dating someone while being in love with your best friend is definitely frowned upon.’ “Wow. I think I respect you more after that,” you say and Seungmin scoffs, unable to hide the smile that breaks on his lips. “Gee, thanks. Glad to know you didn’t respect me before now.”

“Hey, I clearly said ‘respect you more!’ Meaning I did respect you, thank you very much,” you laugh. There’s a silence that follows when the giggling dies down and the smiles fade, with Seungmin looking at you carefully. Right. He’s here to be your fake boyfriend. Better get back to the quest at hand. “So.. I’m not actually gross, huh?” you ask, bringing the conversation back to where it began. “Only a little,” he teases, laughing when you grab a spare cushion to shove at him.

“Stop being mean, I’m trying to be serious!” You whine as he tosses the cushion you shoved in his face to the floor. “Okay, okay,” Seungmin says, his expression softening as he looks at you. In reality, he thinks you’re perfect; but it’s much easier to tease and pretend you disgust him than to face how beautiful he thinks you are. But with how seriously you’re taking this entire thing, it seems he’s going to have to be more earnest with himself, and you, than he was prepared to be.

He really fucked himself over this time around.

"Theoretically.." you start, chewing on your lip before you continue, "Hypothetically-" "Those words mean the same thing," Seungmin can't help but interrupt, laughing as you shove him and tell him to 'shut the fuck up.' You hate him sometimes- fucking menace to your sanity, you swear. "Hypothetically," you continue when he's done laughing and you're sure he's ready to take you seriously, "assuming you're being honest and I'm not gross. Would you want to kiss me?"

Well. Guess there's no avoiding it now. It's time for the thing Seungmin fears most- some good, old fashioned honesty about his feelings. "Yes," is all he says; no further elaboration, no talk on whether or not this is still strictly in the realm of hypotheticals, or if he'd only be okay with it under some sort of condition being met. Just.. yes, he'd want to kiss you.. wants to kiss you. That's it.

You can’t believe how easily he conceded in the end; you wonder if another mean, teasing joke is inbound, or if he doesn’t quite get what you’re insinuating. "You know I mean on the lips right? Like.. an actual kiss?" You ask, wanting to ensure you're on the same page and he's not just thinking, like.. forehead or cheek kisses or something. All of which will still be part of this fake relationship, but still; better to make sure everything is clarified. "Yeah, I assumed that," he replies and you simply blink.

You're not sure why, but that does something to your heart. "And.. you're okay with that..?" "Yeah..? I thought we established I didn't mean it when I said you're gross. I was just teasing," he says plainly, as if the topic you're discussing is completely normal. Well, maybe that's the attitude you should have too- it's no big deal, right?

It's not that strange for two best friends to kiss, it happens all the time! And this was all your idea in the first place; you don't even understand why you feel so weird about it all of the sudden. Sure, not thinking you're gross and wanting to kiss you are two different things entirely, but you're thinking about it too hard.

Seungmin is just being a good friend to you. He's nonchalant about it because all of this is simple; it's supposed to be simple. Just one friend casually helping out another. If anything it's a relief he has no hang ups about it, right? It makes this whole thing easier! (The reality: he is not nonchalant. He is practically screaming inside over the idea of kissing you- you just don't know it.)

Blushing and heart twisting for reasons beyond your understanding, you opt to just take his hand in yours again instead, averting your eyes from him and training them off to the distance. Your bedroom walls are very interesting all of a sudden. "Maybe later," you mumble and he nods, relieved as he squeezes your hand. Yeah, maybe later. He doesn't think he's ready to fall for you even harder just yet anyways.

Weeks pass, and your fake relationship develops slowly but organically thanks to the Hwang's ball being further away still. You expected becoming "natural" in your relationship would take time, which is why you wanted to get a headstart on practicing being close. Your heart still stirs in unexpected moments, but mostly you feel comfortable, which is perfect.

Some awkwardness and shy closeness would be natural, but you can't appear stiff in front of Hyunjin if you want to pass as a genuine couple- the goal is for the relationship to look fresh, not forced. Due to this, you and Seungmin hold hands a lot these days. You like it, to be honest. It reminds you of all these thoughts and memories you hadn't lingered on in years. Of play dates and toothless smiles and laughing as you trip and tumble and grow dirty. You missed it.

You missed this too- cuddling, same as the hand holding. It's something you hadn't done since you were kids, and similarly, you couldn't remember the last time you had done it before now. You find yourself thinking it's a shame you ever stopped. You're currently laying against him, head on his shoulder while one of his arms is wrapped around your waist, legs tangled together on your obscenely large sofa while some movie you long since stopped paying attention to plays on your equally large tv.

You practiced calling each other petnames, but they all felt weird- in the end, the only thing that felt natural was sticking to calling each other stupid, idiot, asshole, brat.. And somehow hearing Seungmin call you a selfish brat before he hugs you with a smile makes your heart skip a beat these days. It doesn't make sense, but you don't let yourself dwell on it or think about it too hard- this is all for a purpose, and it's better to just leave it at that.

When you suggested trying out cuddling today, you didn’t expect your mind to go to so many complicated places. "Hey Minnie, do you remember the last time we cuddled like this?" you decide to ask him, tilting your head up to be able to catch a glimpse at him. "Yeah. We were 12," he answers easily, and you can just barely see this corner of his mouth lifted in a fond smile.

"Really?" you question and he tilts his head to look at you. He answered so quickly; no delay in the slightest, didn't even have to waste any time thinking on it or trying to remember- he just.. already knew. The instantaneous ease in which he responded surprises you as equally as it fills you with guilt.

"Of course. You don't remember?" he asks and pangs of guilt over not being able to remember yourself grow painfully. You never expected to feel so terrible over something so small. "Not really.." you answer with a frown; you wish you did, especially since Seungmin seems to have his own memory of your childhood closeness perfectly intact, but you simply.. don't remember.

"Gosh, I'm so hurt. You care for me so little," Seungmin teases, but all you can do is continue to frown. You can't bring yourself to hit him with a witty quip or joke that you hate him- because part of you worries that how inattentive you've been thus far would give rise to him one day believing your statements made to poke fun are how you truly feel. And right now you just honestly, truly feel bad.

His expression softens when he realizes you're genuinely saddened, assuming it's because he took the teasing too far by insinuating you don't care about him. In reality, it's not him you're upset with but yourself. And it stings to realize that maybe what he says isn't completely wrong- maybe you really have cared about him too little.

Maybe if you weren't so hyperfocused on love and romance with Hyunjin, you'd have realized sooner how much you put your friendship with Seungmin on the wayside. You wish you'd been a better friend. "It's to be expected actually,” Seungmin attempts to rectify his mistake in wording (though truly it's not his fault or a ‘mistake’- your guilt is your own, and all he did was unintentionally spark some much needed self reflection.) “You were sick as fuck and loaded on cough syrup."

"Oh!" You exclaim suddenly, a vague memory in the very back of your mind becoming clearer now. Just as Seungmin said, you were 12 and suffering from the worst cold you'd ever had in your entire life. You felt like you were dying and it was your own fault it happened; a blizzard had just passed, and you insisted on playing in the freshly fallen heaps of snow with your two best friends.

The lake near the castle had completely frozen over in the storm, and despite being repeatedly warned how unsafe it is to play on a frozen lake, you were just a kid who thought you were invincible. Every kid is overconfident and zealous, truly believing no harm or wrong can come to them until the world teaches them a lesson in humility- and that's exactly what happened that day.

You skated around on the frozen lake, paying no heed to any of the warnings you received, laughing and giggling without a care in the world even as you slipped and slid around on the slick surface of the ice. But eventually you fell, of course you did, it was ice- and the moment your weight collided with the surface of the lake, it cracked.

It's hard to remember what followed- all you really remember was how your whole body froze the minute it touched the icy water, as if all your limbs had become pure lead. But Seungmin was there, and Hyunjin too, and they pulled you out and got you back inside as fast as they were able. It honestly came as no surprise that you got sick following your unceremonious ice bath.

Seungmin and Hyunjin got a bit sick too, but their sniffles and slight coughs paled in comparison to your symptoms. Hyunjin's parents made him return home to shake off his cold, but Seungmin's didn't mind if he got over his slight cold with you in the castle. Even with the spark of clarity it's all still vague, but you can just remember it now- how Seungmin was glued to your side the entire rest of the week as your body tried to fight off the illness.

He was there when your attendants woke you to take your medicine, he was there when you drank your water and sipped your soup, he rubbed your back when you coughed and stroked your head when you complained that it hurt. He was.. sweet. The entire time. The usual Seungmin who teased and complained was nowhere to be seen, even when you unintentionally got snot on his shirt.

Instead, he was just sincerely caring. And he cuddled you, let you soak up all his warmth because no matter how many layers of blankets you were under and despite the constant fueling of the fire in your fireplace, you still felt so impossibly cold. "I remember now," you tell him and the smile you're met with stirs something within you.

Or maybe it's the memory of how sweet he can be when he's not being a jackass. Maybe it's how underneath his layers of teasing comments and sarcastic words, he's genuine. He remembers things, always remembers things, even when the moments are small and fleeting. And maybe it's how even when he complains or calls you a selfish brat, he'd still do anything for you.

Even now, years later, he's still just the same in that regard. Cares about you, would do anything for you, wants you happy even when your happiness causes him trouble and inconvenience. All his sarcasm and jokes at your expense will fade the minute you're genuinely unwell, he'll drop everything he's doing the minute you need him for something serious, because underneath his layers and walls he'll always be someone selfless and kind.

You sit up ever so slightly, just enough to get a clearer view of him while still tangled in his arms and legs. You breathe his name in a whisper, and his eyes dart around your face as he tries to figure out what you’re doing, what you’re thinking while looking at him so.. attentively. It makes him nervous when you look at him like that, makes him feel like you can see right through him and read his every thought, like he’s nothing but cellophane.

And you kiss him. You kiss him. Soft and chaste, your lips just barely pressed to his, but still he crumbles, his sandcastle heart caught by your wave. His weak heart pounds, his blood races through his veins, he blinks in surprise and still can't seem to find himself or formulate a thought even when you pull away. What even just happened?

"S-Sorry," you flush instantly as you turn your eyes away from Seungmin's heating face. You can't believe you just kissed your best friend like that. And like.. you fully expected to give Seungmin your first kiss as part of this whole charade, but it was supposed to be a moment that only happened after meticulous planning and mental preparation. This was undeniably, purely the heat of the moment.

"Uh, I.. it just.. felt right. For practice..?" you stumble as you try to formulate an excuse for your own unexpected actions. Yeah. It was for practice, that's all. You aren't in love with him- you love Hyunjin. What you felt when you kissed him just now was.. something else. That's what you tell yourself, because it's the only thing that makes sense.

"Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense," Seungmin utters quietly, sounding almost.. disappointed. You look at him again, and catch just a glimpse of sadness in his eyes before it fades completely, almost as if it was never there. And maybe it wasn't- maybe you're.. projecting, somehow? Do you want Seungmin to be sad that the kiss doesn't mean more?

You don't know. It's confusing. And you hate that you don't know why it's confusing, that you don't understand where all these conflicting thoughts and feelings are coming from and what they mean. You don't want to admit it, but maybe he was right; maybe this whole thing wasn't a good idea.

He sees the struggle on your face, but there's no way for him to know that it's due to confusion about your feelings, how you liked kissing him and how you don't know what that says about you or about your feelings- for him or for Hyunjin. Instead, he worries that you hated it, that kissing him filled you with disgust and regret and now you were trying to figure out how you can ever look at him again.

But you do look at him again, of course you do. And despite the confusion and the struggle from your complex, raging emotions, you meet his eyes softly. You reach for a hand and squeeze, and once again he feels like you see right through him, see all the ugly dread and guilt and sorrow that comes from being in love with you. You see him and he sees you, and though it's confusing and clearly disastrous, neither of you want to let it go just yet.

"Do you.. want to keep practicing..?" he asks hesitantly, a hint of hope in his unsteady voice. A hope he shouldn't have, a hope he feels you will sternly reject. But you don't. You smile at him, a timid one he thought only ever reserved for Hyunjin, and you nod. "Yeah, do you?" you ask, and all Seungmin replies with is a simple "yeah" of his own before your lips are on his again.

You kiss him and he kisses you, and sometimes it's awkward as you bump noses or ever so slightly miss and instead kiss the corner of his mouth, but in the end it all becomes natural, rhythmic, easy. Butterflies thrash in your stomach, your heart races, your face burns, his lips are soft and warm and perfect, and through it all, for the first time in all your years, you stop thinking about Hyunjin, and linger exclusively on Seungmin.

Kissing Seungmin makes you feel strange. It doesn't feel bad, nor wrong, or uncomfortable; but strange because of what it evokes in you. When he left for his guest room that night, and you had more time to think about what you’d done, you came to the conclusion that the butterflies would pass now that it was over. That you only felt them because kissing, regardless of it being with your best friend, was foreign and new. You thought that as you got used to kissing him, that deceitful fluttering in your stomach would gradually fade.

You expected that kissing him would become as second nature to you as holding hands, and eventually you’d feel.. maybe not nothing when kissing him, but certainly you wouldn't still be reactive. What has actually happened is rather the opposite; your heart skips a beat when he enters your room now, you unconsciously flush whenever he holds you closer, your stomach knots itself when he smiles following a kiss.

He smiles a lot more these days; or maybe you only perceive it that way because part of you wants it to mean something more than it does. That’s what frustrates you most of all; no matter how much you tell yourself it’s just practice, that this means nothing to either of you and is only a means to an end, you find yourself struggling to come to peace with that idea. Confusion and guilt eat at you, complex feelings and emotions you didn’t even know you had rising to the surface one after the next, protesting being ignored and making themselves acutely known.

There’s a question that burns in the back of your mind, something you’re scared to confront but know you must before this is over- is your love for Hyunjin genuine or superficial? Do you love him the way a lover truly would, or do you love the idea of being with him? The idea that your romance would be a picture perfect fairytale, because he’s a prince and you’re a princess and those two things just naturally go together.

Perhaps your understanding of love is inherently naive and flawed; perhaps all these years spent pining, you were chasing an ideal rather than a person. But misguided though it may be, your love for Hyunjin has to be true; because apart from being one of your best friends, he’s objectively perfect for you. Seungmin is rough and jagged, while Hyunjin is polished and smooth. Though more tempered and refined than yourself, Hyunjin matches your flair for the dramatic, while Seungmin is oppositely rooted firmly in reality. Where Hyunjin is elegant words and gentle smiles, Seungmin is sarcasm and rolled eyes.

But that’s not entirely true, you know it isn’t; because while Seungmin is indeed sarcastic and mean and sometimes rough around the edges, he’s also gentle and sincere and passionate. He doesn’t show that softness within as easily as Hyunjin does, he's built up walls as he grew older for reasons that you couldn't begin to understand, but maybe that’s what makes it more special when he does let them fall, how you know he truly means it when he does something kind. His sweet smiles carry far more weight and depth than you ever stopped to realize.

“You okay? What’s up with you today?” Seungmin asks, careful but with a hint in his voice that he’s ready to tease depending on how you respond. Right. The reason you called him over today. You chew your lip as you look at him, and you know he’s been able to tell all day that something was off with you. You wanted to call this whole thing off, if you’re being honest; tell him you realized he was right, he’s always right, and this was a terrible idea that you shouldn’t have dragged him into.

But the moment you faced him you lost all your nerve. Your mouth ran dry, the words lodged themselves in your throat, and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak them. It’s so fucking selfish, but you realized that without this fake relationship keeping you together, the distance between you would return. Once the charade is over, he’ll go back to hardly ever returning your touch, to emotional walls stacked so high you fear you could never climb them, to strained smiles and equally strained words.

You’re not sure why Seungmin is more open these days; maybe intimacy and closeness, no matter the cause and regardless of lack of romantic intent attached to them, is enough to naturally break down a person’s barriers. You don’t even know why he has barriers, why he shields himself from you so strongly when you’re his best friend, but now that you’ve experienced him without his walls you don’t want to go back. You’re terrible and selfish and it’s hardly a justification to keep your fake relationship going, but still..

“Are you getting nervous?” he tries again; the ball is approaching quickly now, and he suspects maybe you’re off because you fear your performance as a couple won’t be good enough, that maybe you won’t be as believable as you need to be. You want to tell him he’s probably right, that it’s just nerves and you’ll get over it and everything will be fine with the moment comes, but you know that’s not all there is to it.

It feels so stupid looking back on how excitedly you chose a new dress for the occasion, planned how you’d match with Seungmin and parade yourself on his arm and bat your eyelashes at him while calling him the sweetest names you could come up with, all so Hyunjin would look on and maybe get jealous. You didn’t listen when Seungmin warned you it was a bad idea, didn’t entertain the truth that Hyunjin would likely be a good friend and not intervene, didn’t want to acknowledge how tunnel-visioned and selfish the fairytale romance you pursued made you.

You kissed him, held his hands, and hugged him close and cuddled him tight, and your heart ached and stomach fluttered and you ignored every blaring alarm in your brain because the ends were supposed to justify the means. And now you’re going to ruin not just one friendship, but two; because you don’t know how you’re going to face either of them when it all inevitably crashes and burns.

“I just.. aren’t I being really selfish? You told me this was stupid but I didn’t listen and now I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” you blurt it all out, watch as his eyebrows furrow and his expression changes. You don’t quite know what he feels; regret, frustration, exasperation..? All of them would be perfectly justified. You swallow and you clench your hands into fists and you finally make a selfless decision, one you should’ve made before all these weeks passed you by and you became attached to a version of your best friend you were never supposed to have. “We should stop.”

Seungmin looks.. almost hurt, before he lets out a laugh; you can’t tell if it’s based in self-deprecation, irony, annoyance, or something even further beyond what you can understand from him. “I agreed to this,” he says, grabbing your arm and making you look at him again when you try to turn away and avoid his gaze, “I wanted- want to help you. You know that, right? I know I can be difficult sometimes but I’d never lie about that.”

Maybe you are terribly selfish and maybe you are taking advantage of him and maybe his heart will shrivel and die the moment this ends, but he doesn’t fucking care. He can be selfish too and his selfishness makes him want to hold on for as long as he can, even if it’s fake, even if you never love him; pretending to is enough, it’s all he needs. “That’s the problem though, isn’t it? You’re so selfless and I just..” you trail off; you don’t know what more you can bring yourself to say.

He’s difficult, he’s frustrating, and he’s mean, but he’s not cruel. You know how sweet he actually is, how much he’d sacrifice for you if you asked him too, and it’s time you stopped relying on him for stupid shit like this and dragging him into your petty, dumb, naive problems and grow up a little. Stop being the selfish princess you were raised to be and start being someone worthy of Seungmin’s unwavering friendship instead. You’d never intentionally hurt him, but the problem is you probably have- countless times that you probably aren’t even conscious of because your self reflection has come just a little too late.

You started this whole thing because the idea of losing Hyunjin made your heart ache; but the idea of losing Seungmin, that knowledge that you’ve very likely taken and hurt and been a terrible friend for years doesn’t just make your heart ache- it rips it out entirely. It’s weird, considering them both best friends but realizing how different those friendships actually worked- and how losing Seungmin as a friend is far more gutting than losing a potential lover in Hyunjin.

And you know Seungmin would never hate you, would call you selfish or stupid or annoying but would absolutely never actually think badly of you, and that makes it all the worse. Seungmin wears a mask for you, you know it’s true even if you want to deny it; but the mask he wears is cracked, the paint is worn, and knowing it could all be your fault makes you feel impossibly anguished and sick.

Seungmin frowns and lets you look away, though he still hesitates to let you go. He does though, eventually, and he falls to his back on your bed with a sigh. “You don’t need to worry about me, this is all fine, I’m fine,” he says but you don’t entirely trust him. He’s too stubborn and selfless to admit you’ve ever hurt him, knows it would gut you to realize what you’ve done to him and so chooses to say nothing about it at all. Because regardless of the boundary of friend and lover and where you both lie in between those words, he loves you- not that you feel you deserve it.

This isn’t entirely your fault either- he gave in way too easily. He knew it was a bad idea and he should’ve been more stern, made you see reason even if it made you cry and pout and whine for hours on end. He knows you're selfish and spoiled and a little naive when it comes to what romance means but he didn’t do anything to genuinely shut you down- because beneath it all, he’s just as selfish as you, and he wanted to be your boyfriend for a just a little while, even if being your boyfriend meant nothing.

His walls are down but he’s still not being completely honest, you know he isn’t. The mask is back on but the cracks have grown, exposing more of the real Seungmin beneath, and he can’t hide himself away as easily as he used to- because now you’ve seen them. The cracks, the imperfections, the instability. And you’ve taken them all in, deduced that they’re your fault, and you won’t let it go- because that’s what stubborn people like you do. You pick and you prod and you poke, until something bends or breaks and you finally get the result you want.

But what do you want? To stop playing pretend? For Seungmin to admit that yeah, you have hurt him sometimes- not that he blames you. He knows it wasn’t ever once intentional, and he was never going to hold anything against you or leave you behind. Or maybe you want him to admit he’s in love with you, and that he’s just as fucking hopelessly in love with you as you are with Hyunjin, and that love he feels foolishly allowed for things to get way farther than they should have.

You look at him hesitantly, the way he’s fallen onto your bed, his shirt ridden half up his stomach from the fall and the way his caramel colored hair fans out around him. He’s beautiful and despite everything you’ve just said, you want to crawl on his lap and kiss him. You try to blink the thought away, to scrub your mind clean from thoughts you shouldn’t be having.

He sees the way your eyes linger on his lips, how you internally struggle between what you think you should and shouldn’t do, how even now you are trying to spare him when he doesn’t need to be spared. Consume him whole, eat away at him until there’s nothing left, he doesn’t fucking care- he just wants you, even if it’s temporary, even if you throw him away in the end in favor of someone better. Not if, he has to remind himself, but when- because it’s inevitable, because you’ll never love him as more than a friend.

Seungmin reaches out to you, is close to touching you, but just as he used to, he hesitates before he drops his hand. The distance returns, and that should be a good thing; it hurts, but isn’t it what’s right? You don’t.. You’re not in love with him. You can’t be- you just.. value him as a friend and don’t want to do anything to strain your friendship anymore than you already have. Everything you feel is confusing and weird and you don't know what to do with what you have now.

What to do with your urge to be closer to him, or the way you blush when he smiles and calls you names, or how the content sighs he lets out while kissing and cuddling makes your stomach do flips. How the way he unconsciously squeezes you tighter fills you with butterflies or how the way his hands linger before you begin to separate makes you want to go crawling back to his open arms.

And there’s the impure thoughts- the ones you’ve never even had about Hyunjin despite being in love with him. The ones you have when you see his shirt ridden up like it is now, or how those sighs when you kiss him would sound if you took things just a step further. You used to daydream about pure things like sharing a romantic dance or being given flowers on an anniversary- now your thoughts linger on things like Seungmin’s tongue in your mouth and his hand between your thighs. Things you definitely shouldn’t be daydreaming about if you’re as in love with Hyunjin as you say you are.

You suck in a trembling breath and again try to push the thoughts you shouldn’t have away. Seungmin’s expression is contemplative and gentle, full of a care you don’t deserve. It’s no surprise he can read you like an open book, can tell you’re more upset about this than you should be. It should be a comfort that this charade is coming to an end, but all you feel is sharp, stinging guilt and unbearable pain in your chest. Your eyes burn and you feel as if you’re going to cry, but how terrible would that be?

It would almost feel manipulative to cry in front of him now, after having put all that effort into trying to go back to normalcy. You’re so frustrated with yourself, so impossibly frustrated; you squeeze your clenched fists, your nails dig into your palms, your tears threaten to spill and you look away from Seungmin before they do. Because he’ll comfort you, and that’s not what you deserve. Obviously he knows, it’s not like you can hide it very well, but he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he reaches out again- and this time, he doesn’t stop himself or hesitate. The distance you’ve put between you has already closed. He pulls you down to him, makes you fall against his chest, your head winding up somewhere between his heart and his shoulder. You can still hear it from your position above it, and the steady thumping soothes you. “The ball is soon,” he says quietly, “we can.. go as planned, and then decide what will happen with us after. If you still want to stop after that, it’s okay. Just.. don’t give up too soon.”

You can tell he’s trying to sound sure of himself, but he’s just as lost in all this as you are. And though you still feel rattled with guilt and uncertainty, you nod. You trust Seungmin, and you may as well see this fake relationship through to the end- and the Hwang ball is where you meet that end, one way or another. “Okay..” you mumble, chest tight and stomach knotted with guilt, but you do your best not to spiral again, to trust Seungmin’s word when he says you haven’t done wrong by him.

He calls your name and you look up at him expectantly. His mouth opens, he goes to speak, but whatever he wants to say is swallowed back down, and is instead replaced with something more familiar. “You’re.. really annoying,” he whispers before he kisses you, and there’s a relief that spreads through your veins. “Asshole,” you whisper back and you feel him smile, the comfortable normalcy returning even in this situation that is anything but normal.

You’re both stupid and stubborn and there’s no way this ends without someone having a broken heart, but for now it’s okay. For now, it’s all Seungmin needs; to be close to you and touch you and hold you and know that you were his, for however brief and false a time it may have been.

“Do you think we should share a guest room to make this more believable?” you mumble while walking through the halls of the Hwang Castle, hand intertwined with Seungmin’s while he carries both his luggage and your own. Hyunjin obviously prepared your rooms separately as you haven’t announced your relationship to him yet- not that it’s going to last much longer anyways. Whether you end up with Hyunjin by night's end or not, your fake relationship with Seungmin can’t proceed beyond this.

“I dunno,” Seungmin replies, though your question was more absentminded musing than a genuine question you were expecting to have answered by him. “Maybe? Technically speaking, we’ve been “dating” for a couple months now. It’d probably be normal.” You hum and contemplate his answer for a moment before you look at Seungmin with a smile. “Let’s share my room then! Hyunjin always gives me the biggest room available.”

“I fucking knew it,” Seungmin says in faux-exasperation as you giggle. He always felt like his guest rooms were smaller than yours; and he doesn't actually care, but it's fun to act like it bothers him, and it's even better to hear you laugh. “Spoiled brat. Still need luxury even when you’re in someone else’s place, huh?”

“Naturally. What kind of princess would I be if I didn’t get the best of everything?” He rolls his eyes despite the way a smile tugs on his lips and a laugh threatens to break. You turn a hall, and finally your guest rooms begin to come into sight- you've been to Hyunjin's place enough to know the layout, but it still doesn't make getting to the guest hall any less of a trek.

Seungmin unlinks your hands when you approach the double doors of the castle's best guest room, fumbling in his pocket for the keys you were given for just a moment before he finds the right one. He unlocks the door, walks inside with you and sets your luggage down in the corner of the room before turning to look at you. “You sure you want me to stay? I don’t mind going to my own room,” Seungmin offers and you quickly shake your head- maybe a little too quickly, but you won’t acknowledge how eager for him to stay you seem.

“Well, I’ll probably need help getting ready,” you say; an excuse, sure, but it’s reasonable at least. But what about after that? When the ball is over and so too is your act, regardless of whether you get results with Hyunjin or not- would Seungmin still stay? Would you want him to stay? You think you would; you don’t know what that means or what it says about you, but it’s honestly what you’d want.

“If you’re sure, don’t mind if I make myself comfortable then,” Seungmin says as he flops himself on the extravagant guest bed. There’s still a couple of hours until the ball, and since he won’t take nearly as long getting ready as you, he decides it’s a good idea to get in a short nap. Traveling always makes him tired, after all- especially when he’s going from your castle all the way to Hyunjin’s. He yawns and stretches out before he closes his eyes, and your eyes linger on him fondly for a moment before you turn to where Seungmin set your luggage.

You rummage through your bags for everything you need to get ready; toiletries, makeup, your dress- you collect them all in your arms and carry them to the attached bathroom. You spend a fair amount of time in the shower, going over every skincare step meticulously and making sure you’re as soft as can be- not that it matters, really, since nothing is going to happen but.. You feel more confident in yourself after going through the motions. You’re careful and methodical in the application of your makeup too; you can’t rush if you want to look perfect.

You hold your dress up to your body and imagine briefly how you’ll look in it while standing in front of the large, ornate mirror. That’s the downside to ordering online- you have no idea how the dress will actually fit you, but you hope you’ll look nice. Nerves hit you again as you look at yourself, but you swallow them down the best you can as you lie the dress on the sink counter. You don’t know what you’re hoping for tonight anymore- whether you want Hyunjin to see you with Seungmin and get jealous, or if you want him to think you are a sweet couple and support you sincerely.

It doesn’t matter either way; nothing about this is genuine. And you’re not sure if you can be happy with yourself if Hyunjin is jealous and realizes he likes you over a lie. But you’ve come this far, you’re already here and Seungmin has reassured you over and over again that this is something he thinks you should see through, so.. That’s all you have left to do. Just see it through until the end.

Getting your underwear on, and then carefully slipping on your dress- here is where you need Seungmin’s help. It’s near impossible for you to pull up the zipper that lies along the spine of your dress, even if you stretch and reach behind you as far as your arm can go. Holding a hand to your chest so that the dress doesn’t slip back down your body, you carefully open the bathroom door and peek outside into the main room.

You weren’t sure if Seungmin really fell asleep after you’d left him alone in the room, but peeking out now, you can tell that he has. He’s in the same position on the bed as when you left him, his eyes serenely closed and breathing steady. You call his name, but he doesn’t react; so you try once more, raising your voice this time, but you’re still met with nothing in response. You step out of the bathroom and up to the bed cautiously, and you make one last effort to wake him by calling his name just in case.

It doesn’t work, of course; you didn’t really think it would anyways if you’re being honest, but it didn’t hurt to try. You cautiously reach out to his shoulder, and do your best to rouse him awake while still holding your dress up with your other hand. Seungmin slowly blinks awake, mumbling something you can’t decipher as his senses slowly return to reality one by one.

He blinks a few times more, processing the sight before him; you leaning towards him, your dress loosely covering your body with the support of the hand not placed on his shoulder. He refuses to let his eyes linger on the image of your barely concealed cleavage before him, instead putting all of his effort into looking back up to your face. "Need my help now?" he correctly assumes, and you nod as you straighten back up.

Seungmin sits up from the bed, watches you as you turn to return to the bathroom, expecting him to follow. He does his best to ignore what the sight of your exposed skin does to him; the only reason he has this view is because you trust him and view him as a best friend- he really can't afford to be having any impure thoughts about you. (A little late for that in all honesty, but he'll atone for it later.)

The door is wide open, but he knocks on the doorframe to announce himself before he steps through- a sign of respect and decency. "Thanks," you smile at him briefly as he steps inside the bathroom and takes his place behind you. "I can't zip it up on my own," you explain, and yeah, he can see that clearly; the bottom of the zipper lies on your tailbone, your panties ever so slightly peeking in the v-shape the zipper creates with the two sides of your dress.

He swallows and pretends he doesn't notice, instead looking to where the zipper ends just around your shoulder blades. “Do you think Hyunjin will think I look good?” you can’t help but ask as Seungmin’s hand falls to your zipper, slowly pulling it up. It gives you goosebumps- not the cold zipper on your skin, but the way his hand feels just over your spine, running along it as he zips up your dress.

You're not sure what reply you hope to hear; maybe it's a question with no right answer. “If he’s smart, he will,” Seungmin answers; he’d have to be an idiot not to. “You’re beautiful." You flush as you look at him in the mirror, standing behind you but not at all obscured thanks to your smaller frame.

You know he means it- he teases and he pretends, but he’d never lie about something like that. You already know that to be true; he’s said it himself- that the thing’s he says with a serious tone are the things he really means. He’s not looking at you, his eyes fixed on your back until he’s finished with the zipper, ignoring the way the hooks of your bra stare back at him until your dress closes and they are obscured from his sight, the way they should be.

He finally meets your gaze again when he’s done, meeting your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. Your face feels impossibly hot, and you hope he thinks the pink on your face is from the makeup you applied as opposed to the real blush it is. You still have things to do- put on your accessories, fix-up and style your hair, put on your prettiest pair of heels, but even without all that flashy glamor added on, Seungmin already thinks you’re radiant as can be.

Though he’s done with the zipper, his hand hasn’t left your back yet, and neither of you have broken the gaze you keep in the mirror. There’s a moment where you think he’ll turn you around and kiss you, or that you’ll kiss him; and truly, he wants to, but he shouldn’t. This night is supposed to be about you and Hyunjin, and you don’t need the ‘practice’ anymore- it was only ever an excuse to begin with.

He clears his throat as he lets you go, and you turn your gaze away from the mirror, swallowing down all your feelings and nerves as you rummage through your bag for the accessories you brought with you. “It won’t take me much longer to get ready,” you say as you continue to rummage through your bag- you found what you need, but taking it out means having to meet Seungmin’s gaze, and you’re not ready to do that again just yet.

“Right, I should get ready too,” Seungmin mumbles mostly to himself as he turns to leave. You don’t look up from your bag, even as he lingers in the doorway. You can tell he stopped to look at you, you can feel his eyes observing you, but still you don’t glance up at him. “Yeah, not much time left ‘til we gotta go,” you say, and he responds with a simple, quiet ‘yeah’ before he fully walks out into the main room.

There’s a sense of dread that lingers- both of you having a similar feeling weighing on your hearts, while ironically thinking you feel it all by yourself, that the other person doesn’t possibly feel the same way. A situation that would easily be mended by communication, but the gap between what you perceive to be true, and the real truth is not so easily crossed. The metaphoric rope that connects you and Seungmin together is frayed, and you worry that an uncomfortable conversation will cause that connection to completely snap.

So you swallow your feelings once more, you put on your earrings and style your hair, and you realign your focus. You can’t keep thinking about what your affection for Seungmin means or why the thought of this ending tonight weighs on you so heavily. You’re close to getting what you’ve been working for, and that should be where your thoughts linger- on Hyunjin. The best friend you’ve always thought you had feelings for, the one you believed yourself to be in love with.

Stepping inside the ballroom with Seungmin is utterly nerve wracking; it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for, the moment that 3 months of fake relationship practice were leading up to. This is where you show your best performance, where you parade around on Seungmin’s arm and look at him with the best heart eyes you can muster. Not that it’s a hard task, these days- you find yourself doing it without even thinking about it.

You.. like him, if you had to guess. But do you like him more than you thought you liked Hyunjin? You guess that’s the answer you’re really trying to find tonight. You never thought it’s where you’d be today when you first conjured up this plan, there was no way to anticipate how much your newfound closeness with Seungmin would affect the feelings you thought you were so sure of.

It’s natural to be confused, isn’t it? Surely anyone would be in this scenario; you can’t kiss and hug and cuddle someone for so long and feel nothing, right? And it’s your own fault, you can’t blame anyone but yourself for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. You reap what you sow, as your grandmother likes to say. “Don’t be so on edge, everything’ll work out,” Seungmin leans to whisper in your ear.

You’ve been so tense ever since you left the guest room together- half nervous to see Hyunjin again after months and half ‘oh my god why does Seungmin look so good tonight.’ As if it wasn’t enough that you were confused about your feelings, Seungmin had to come out looking so devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored suit and neatly slicked hair. “Yeah, you’re right, sorry,” you respond and he shakes his head, offers a reassuring smile before he looks around the room.

“He’s around here somewhere, we’ll see him soon enough,” Seungmin says as his eyes continue to scan the packed ballroom. Oh, that makes sense- he thinks you’re tense because you haven’t run into Hyunjin yet. If things were the same as a few months ago, you think that may have been true. Now.. you’re not really sure what’s true. Hyunjin will see you as a couple and he’ll either silently rage with envy or beam with joy for his two best friends- and you don’t know which outcome is the one you want anymore.

“Oh, I think I see him,” Seungmin mutters to you, and discreetly points in the direction he thinks he’s found your other best friend. You see him now too, standing near the balconies looking bored out of his mind, champagne glass in hand. He’s not looking at anything in particular, just vaguely observing his surroundings while occasionally sipping from his drink- probably hoping you two will show up soon and save him from his boredom.

You take a breath, wrap your arms around Seungmin's own arm and squeeze it close to your chest. “Now or never,” you mutter and he nods, steeling himself for the penultimate moment just as do. “Hyunjin!” you call from across the hall, dragging Seungmin along with you as you half-sprint up to him, your designer heels loudly clanking on the marble floor. Hyunjin returns your smile when he spots you, and laughs when he sees Seungmin practicly scowling as he’s dragged along- it’s classic, really; you always do things like this to them. Just strong arm them along everywhere you want to go, through everything you want to do.

“Hey! I’m glad you both made it, it’s been forever,” Hyunjin smiles as you complete your approach. He feels bad he hasn’t seen either of his best friends in months, but royal duties and all.. It kept him very unfortunately occupied. He looks at you both inquisitively when you don’t let go of Seungmin’s arm or untangle yourself from him- normally you would have by now, having reached the destination you wanted to drag him to. It’s.. curious, to say the least.

Your hand goes from being wrapped around Seungmin and holding his arm, to intertwining your fingers as you hold his hand. Hyunjin raises a brow, but says nothing- he’ll wait for one of you to clear up what he’s thinking. “Mhm, we’ve been waiting to see you in person to tell you something important!” you say as you squeeze Seungmin’s hand, shooting him your best lovey dovey look before you bring your gaze back to Hyunjin.

Seungmin wants to sigh and roll his eyes and call you dumb for looking at him like that, but he bites his tongue. It’s the last time you’ll ever shoot him with that look of pure puppy love, and it’s best not to ruin it by defaulting to his usual personality; cherish it while you have it, as they say. “Well spit it out then, don’t keep me on the edge of my seat,” Hyunjin’s smile grows, looking between the two of you with eager anticipation to hear the confession that lingers on your tongue.

Hyunjin’s positive reaction deters you a little; surely he can see that you’re clinging to Seungmin to an unusual degree, but he doesn’t seem to react to it negatively at all- not even minutely. There’s no subtle furrow of the brow, no flash of sadness in his eyes that gets replaced by forced happiness, no twitch in his hands from jealousy or frustration. Seungmin was right, as always- Hyunjin is just going to be a good friend. He won’t have a single negative thing to say.

“W-Well, we.. uh-” you stumble on your words, and curse yourself for floundering at the most pivotal moment. This is what everything you’ve done has been leading up to, you can’t falter now.. and yet, you are. You look at Seungmin and your grip on his hand tightens, panic unwittingly settling in as a lump forms in your throat. He flashes you a look of sympathy, squeezes your hand in a subtle show of comfort, before he turns away from your gaze to look at Hyunjin.

He doesn’t like it, but he’ll take the lead from here- for your sake. “We’re dating,” he says as confidently and smoothly as he can bring himself to. He lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around your waist, pulls you closer for added effect, sincerely tries his best to spark the jealousy he knew you wanted to see. But Hyunjin doesn’t look jealous, or sad, or even angry. He just looks.. happy.

“Gosh, finally! Congrats! I always knew you two would end up together,” Hyunjin grins and gives Seungmin a friendly pat on the shoulder. You blink as you stare between them. Huh..? Finally? What does that mean? Even Seungmin is taken aback, and mirrors what you were internally thinking. Unlike you, his utterly shocked ‘huh?’ comes out verbally. “Yeah, I always saw the way you were looking at her, Minnie. You were so obvious, I knew it was only a matter of time,” Hyunjin says with enthusiastic joy that sends you completely off kilter.

What the fuck. You feel like your entire world has been flipped upside down. What does he mean he always saw the way Seungmin looked at you? How did he look at you..? How does he look at you? Hyunjin’s puzzled now as he looks between you both; you look like your entire sense of reality has been shifted, while Seungmin looks positively mortified. “Sorry, uh- did he not mention that when he confessed?” Hyunjin asks, and then shit- maybe you were the one who confessed.

Seungmin is stubborn and aloof in his cool persona, he's the type to avoid saying what he really thinks by using teasing words, will only look at you softly when he thinks no one else is looking his way.. Hyunjin can easily imagine that he has yet to admit the true depth of his secret pining, or confessed how much he actually likes you. He feels bad for outing Seungmin if that’s the case.

“My bad, I assumed you knew since you’re dating now and all,” he laughs a bit awkwardly while shooting Seungmin a sympathetic look. One that’s meant to say ‘sorry for blowing your stubborn, cool-guy persona.’ It’s just.. Hyunjin thought it was as obvious to you as it was to him. The way his hard expression would soften the minute you smiled at him, how he’d laugh when you’d banter back after he said something teasing and mean, how his eyes would always linger on even if there were countless other people in the room.. Wasn’t it obvious he liked you this entire time?

“I guess I’m just surprised to hear you call it out,” you try to recover from the blatant shock, play it off as something different than it is- as if you knew all along, and you’re just surprised that Hyunjin knew too. Hyunjin chuckles a little, looking a bit more relieved after your statement. “Sorry if I ruined the illusion of Seungmin being the cool, aloof type. He’s actually a big softie, but I guess you’ve realized that by now,” he smiles.

“Yeah I, uh- I’ve realized that,” you smile back, a bit tensely, but a smile nonetheless, “That’s what I like about him.” Seungmin, still trying to recover from his own world being flipped upside down, finally looks at you again. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to recover from this wildly unexpected turn in the conversation. Still realizing he has his hand on your waist, and unsure where you now stand and whether or not this is appropriate or okay anymore, he hesitantly lets you go.

You hold his hand when he does, but it doesn’t feel like solace or consolation the way it normally would. Not hollow, or empty, but just.. not full of the same warmth it normally carries. He’s so impossibly anxious and scared- that you’re furious with him, that you’ll cut him off when the night is over, that you’ll accuse him of sabotaging this whole thing by agreeing to be your pretend boyfriend when he had very real feelings for you.

In reality you just feel terrible about yourself and what you’ve caused. You already felt bad before the night began, and now you feel even worse- you never would’ve asked Seungmin to do this if you'd known he had feelings for you. And now his feelings were called out in the worst way possible, and you don’t think you’ll ever scrub how mortified Seungmin looked in that moment from your memory. And it was entirely your fault.

He should’ve been allowed the chance to tell you on his own terms, and you ruined that chance. You probably also ruined any chance at having a normal relationship with him if you wanted one- because how do you recover from the humiliation of being called out on something you thought was a well guarded secret, right in front of the very person that secret was about. This entire time, he’s liked you, maybe even loved you, and you undeniably hurt him.

He tried to deter you, he told you this wouldn’t work and he tried to resist but you pressed and pushed and prodded until he gave in. And while you could argue some of his acts were not entirely selfless, as you’re sure he must’ve enjoyed kissing you and being close to you knowing what you do now, how could you blame him for indulging in a love with someone he wanted to be with while expecting, believing, knowing, it would come to an end when you got what you wanted.

All those years you spent pining over Hyunjin, Seungmin spent them pining over you, and he just listened, he took it in, and he never stopped supporting you, not even once. Even tonight, when it was probably breaking his heart to do so, he tried his best to reassure you, he tried to make Hyunjin jealous on your behalf.. And he complained, sure he did, but it was more part of the usual banter between you two than jealousy or hurt. At least, that’s what you always thought it was.. You never imagined there’d be anything more hiding beneath the surface.

You should’ve known, though. It should’ve been obvious- how can you call yourself Seungmin’s best friend and not have realized? And it’s not that you missed the signs because you were willfully ignorant, but you were so tunnel-visioned, selfish, and absorbed that you never stopped to notice any of the changes. It wasn’t even until recently that you realized how much a wall he’d put up, how much he’d forced distance between you..

It makes sense, in hindsight; that it wasn’t for your sake that he stopped doing certain things and acting certain ways, but his own. While you were watching Hyunjin like a hawk for any sign that he might like you, you missed all the signs Seungmin left. You never noticed a single thing, and being reminded of how selfishly you’d spent the teenage years of your friendship makes your heart ache terribly.

“Hey uh, sorry to cut this short but.. I think Seungmin’s feeling embarrassed. Might be in need of a reset, y’know?” you say, trying to come across as a happy girlfriend stealing the chance to tease her boyfriend while also still having his best interest at heart. You look at Seungmin, try to offer him reassurance despite the situation, but he doesn’t look back at you. He’s facing Hyunjin, but he doesn’t look at him either, not really. It feels like he’s far away, somewhere distant that you can’t reach, busy reconstructing all the walls he’d let fall away, trying to build them back up as high as he can in preparation for the heartbreak he’s soon to face.

“Of course,” Hyunjin smiles, giving his full blessing, “just come find me again later! I’d rather be a third wheel with you two lovebirds than listen to my father drone on about tax management again.” You giggle a bit and nod, waving him goodbye and forcing Seungmin out of his haze by dragging him away with you. You glance around as you push through the crowd for a private space to talk- your guest room is much too far away and the tension while going back would likely be too much for either of you to bear; better to find somewhere nearby to have this conversation.

You fail to make it to a room after exiting the ballroom; Seungmin stops in the middle of the hallway, preventing you from dragging him along, and you’re forced to let him go and turn around to look at him. He’s pained and lost but he tries to bring himself back to the aloof persona he once had mastered, to not show how hurt and afraid he is right now. But the cracked mask that is his cool facade has splintered irreparably, and you can only see him for who he really is now.

“Sorry it didn’t work out how you wanted. Sucks, and I know you must be hurt, but don’t give up, you can still try again, maybe there’s something else you haven’t thought of yet, you can-” Seungmin speaks in a quick ramble, not even acknowledging the massive elephant in the room- his feelings for you. “Seungmin,” you cut him off with a frown, and he’s hesitant to meet your gaze; he doesn’t know what he’ll be met with, and try as he might to reconstruct himself back to the person he was before this whole thing started, he knows deep down it’d be in vain.

Your friendship has been irrevocably changed, and to pretend otherwise would be futile. Still, he can’t stop himself from trying- it’s all he can think to do. “You have feelings for me,” you state it plainly, and Seungmin swallows but says nothing. Doesn’t confirm, nor deny, because both options seem fucking terrible if he’s honest. Denying it is pointless and would just be a blatant lie, and confirming, making it clear that he agreed to be your fake boyfriend despite his feelings for you.. He doesn’t know how that makes him look.

In Seungmin’s head, you’ll either view him as pathetic or as a saboteur, and neither is ideal. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? If I’d known I’d never have..” He scoffs at your sentiment and looks at you incredulously. “And why would I have? You’ve been obsessed with Hyunjin for years. And I’m supposed to tell you how I feel? Be serious, Y/N, there’s no way I could’ve ever told you. And even if I had, you would’ve rejected me, so what would’ve been the point?”

“I-” you want to say that’s not true, that you wouldn’t have rejected him or broken his heart, but who are you kidding? It absolutely fucking is. It hurts to hear it this way, but he isn’t wrong about any of it. Still, just because he’s right, that doesn’t mean you’re entirely wrong either. Even if you’d have rejected him, surely he still should’ve been honest with you? You’d never have done this if you’d known.

You made mistakes, but so did he.. right? You know you've been selfish for way too long, but you're not the kind of person to intentionally hurt a friend. You never would've dragged Seungmin through the mud just to get what you want, and the fact that he hid his feelings and allowed himself to be hurt just to make you happy.. That's not the kind of thing you want him to do.

Your friendship shouldn't be built on Seungmin's self-sacrifice, he shouldn't allow himself to be second place just to make you and Hyunjin happy. To be selfless is a virtue, but too much can leave him with nothing, and that's been your concern since the day you realized how selfish you've been. You realized that Seungmin will give, and give, and give, and he'll never ask you for anything in return. But that’s not what friendship and love should be built upon. Surely he understands that you never wanted this- for your best friend to offer himself up as your emotional martyr.

And with the confusion of your feelings compounding on it, the realization that maybe it’s Seungmin who you love while your infatuation with Hyunjin was hardly more than a fairytale childhood crush- how are you supposed to live with yourself after causing unspeakable heartache to him? And would he even believe you if you told him that you love him? You don’t even know if you can believe yourself.

He sees how hurt you are, the confusion and the guilt and the sorrow, and the anger that grew within him instantly deflates. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped you, I just- I need to be alone,” Seungmin mutters his apology and walks briskly past you, towards the direction of the guest hall.

You call to him, but he doesn’t stop or turn around, and you don’t follow. You want to, but you know you should respect that he needs time to himself; he has a lot to process, as you’re sure you do too. You owe it to him, yourself, and even Hyunjin, to sort out your feelings too.

Seungmin didn't see you or Hyunjin again that night, couldn't bring himself to keep playing the pretend boyfriend after every thing that happened. He went to your guest room for his stuff, isolated himself in his own room for the remainder of the evening, leaving the door to your room unlocked and the key resting on the desk so you could get in and out without having to speak with him.

He felt bad about it, but he just couldn't face you again; it was too difficult. Apparently, you returned to the ballroom alone and told Hyunjin the truth. Seungmin knows because he woke up in the middle of the night to countless texts from Hyunjin- apologizing, saying he didn't know, offering his condolences and to be there for him. It fucking sucked, made him feel like even more of a pathetic loser.

You told Hyunjin the truth because it felt like the right thing to do following what happened; he would've known eventually anyways, so it felt better to rip the band-aid off right away. And you confessed a lot more than just that; you told Hyunjin everything. About how this whole thing started, about your confusion on how you felt now, about how terribly your heart ached after realizing how much damage you'd caused.

Hyunjin offered you his shoulder to cry on, hugged you and apologized even though he didn’t need to, and ironically, that’s partly what gave you the answer you were looking for. Because your heart didn’t pound when he hugged you, you didn’t get butterflies when he wiped your tears, your face didn’t flush when offered his hand for support. It was so platonic- and the only time you smiled was when he said he was sure Seungmin would forgive you and everything will work out.

It’s over a day when Seungmin finally sees you again; you have to pass through his city to get to yours, and so it always made sense to leave Hyunjin’s castle together when traveling home. The ride is tense and awkward, to say the least. You can’t bring yourself to say a word and neither can he, the two of you only taking peeks at each other when you’re sure the other isn’t looking. Seungmin stares out the window and you stare at your hands resting in your lap, while your driver compensates for the unusual atmosphere by turning up the radio.

Approaching Seungmin’s estate makes you indescribably emotional. A lump forms in your throat when the door is opened for him and he exits the car, you clench your fists and try to swallow down the intense emotion when the door closes and you watch him begin to walk away. It doesn’t feel right, none of this feels right. You’re worried that if you don’t talk now, then you never will; that the damage will be irreparable if you let the distance grow and feelings fester. You need to talk to Seungmin, and you need to do it now.

You hastily unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door, running out to chase after Seungmin and not stopping even as your driver calls to you from behind. Seungmin, who is almost to his front door, turns around when he hears the commotion, and is surprised to see you quickly approaching him. “What are you doing..?” he can’t help but ask; really though, he shouldn’t be surprised. You always do things like this, and once you’ve made a decision to do something, you’ll stubbornly stick to that decision ‘til the end. You’ve decided you’re going to talk to him, and he knows there’ll be no getting out of it.

“We need to talk,” you assert yourself clearly, even go as far as to step past him and into his house before he can. What a brat; he almost smiles from how familiar it is. The guards who were holding the door open for Seungmin look a little puzzled, but they make no comment- it’s not their place to do so. Seungmin doesn’t see you when he steps inside, but it’s easy enough to guess where you went.

And he finds you exactly where he expected to, waiting for him right outside his bedroom door. Now or never, he thinks as he unlocks it, offering for you to step inside first. You do just that, waiting until follows behind and closes the door to speak. “What are we now? Friends? More than friends? ..Neither?” you cut straight to the chase, leaving no room for awkward and unnecessary pre-emptive small talk. “I don’t know. Isn’t that up to you?” Seungmin says, stepping past you to sit on his bed.

You frown as you watch him, but stay firm. “It shouldn’t be entirely up to me. What do you want?” “Does it matter what I want?” Seungmin cuts back. It’s a bit harsh, but he’s still trying to defend against his heart getting torn to shreds; you can’t entirely blame him. “Of course it matters,” you tell him, voice soft with pain. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, sighing as he flops back and stares at the ceiling. He knows he needs to stop snapping at you, his pain isn’t all in your hands. It takes two to tango, and he did more than his fair share of leading the dance.

Honesty scares him. Raw emotion scares him. Telling you how he’s always felt about you scares him, and telling you what he hopes you’ll be scares him. But that fear has always been a hindrance, and he needs to stop being shackled by it; especially when you’re trying so hard to hear what he really has to say. “I’ve always liked you, for years I’ve liked you. But you.. I didn’t think there was anything I could do. So I just.. didn't do anything.”

You sit down next to him, looking down at him as you do, and he in turn moves his gaze towards you. You can see the apprehension in his eyes, and maybe it’s presumptuous of you to do so, but you lay your hand over his in an effort to reassure him. He looks a bit surprised, but he accepts it, and rotates his hand around so you can hold it properly. “I try not to, but even now I still want to be with you,” he admits, and it’s not easy for him to do, but he can’t shove down how he feels anymore- not if he wants a chance with you.

“So I didn’t ruin what we have?” you ask and Seungmin quickly sits up, squeezing your hand as he does. “Of course not, I mean- I was.. upset and I took it out on you, but.. You could never ruin anything,” he says, emphasizing the point by moving closer to you; and it makes you feel warm and happy. Because he’s bridging the gap on his own, willingly putting his walls back down, leaving the mask off.

“I'm so sorry for everything, I really am. And it's okay if you don't want to, but can we go back to what we were before? Well- not before before, but like- when you were my fake boyfriend. But not fake this time either, I want you to be my real boyfriend, and-” You’re rambling, you know, but you’re just trying to be clear, you just don’t want to mess this up again, so-

“Shut up already, idiot,” Seungmin says, an affectionate smile and lilt in his voice before he’s pressing his lips to yours to stop your rambling himself. “Don’t be an asshole when I’m pouring my heart out,” you complain, smiling despite yourself. “I thought you wanted to go back to before though?” he says with a grin, and you roll your eyes and shove him, mumbling ‘I hate you’ while he chuckles. And it feels good. It feels like everything you’ve been missing and everything you needed. No tension, no dread, no fear- the way it should have always been.

You kiss him first this time, and he pulls you in closer, lets you crawl your way into his lap the way you’ve wanted to for weeks at this point (not that he’s even aware how much you’ve fantasized about it- at least, you hope he hasn’t.) “I missed you,” you breathe as you settle on his lap, and he pulls away, looks up at you with the smug smile that tells you a smartass comment is going to follow. “We were only apart for like, a day,” he can’t help himself from saying, laughing softly when you pout and whine.

“I know that! But it was the most miserable day of my life, I’ll have you know,” you huff, pout growing as you turn your face away and cross your arms. Seungmin’s expression softens, and he reaches out to your face, rests his hand on your cheek and urges you to look at him again. He understands, he really does; it was just as miserable for him. So many doubts and fears wreaking havoc on his brain and making him assume the worst had still yet to come. “I missed you too,” he mumbles softly, earnestly and a bit shy.

Seungmin isn’t used to vulnerability and honesty, but he’ll get used to it for you. He’ll learn to tell you over and over again how much he loves you if that’s what you need. And the dynamic you have is fun; you like the banter, the teasing, and how much affection lies beneath the surface of his spoken words. You don’t expect him to completely change, nor do you want him to; but he can stand to be a little more open with his feelings. Just a little.

"Got you to admit it," you smile, and he scoffs when he realizes he's been duped. He calls you a brat, lovingly and affectionately, before he’s kissing you again. You push him backwards onto the bed, gentle but still assertive, continuing to kiss him while his hands find purchase on your hips. He lets out that little sigh as you kiss him- the one that always drives you crazy and makes your stomach do flips.

You used to feel guilt over what that noise caused you to think, the way it caused your body to react and where it led your mind to wander. You wonder if it’s okay now; to allow your mind to go there, if Seungmin would be okay with going further than you’ve gone before- kissing new spots, touching new places, experiencing new sensations. You wonder if he’s thought about it as much as you have, and if guilt made him swallow it down when he did, same as you.

In the few months of your fake relationship, despite all that practiced closeness and kissing, you never made out- you’ve gotten close, hands starting to roam slightly too close to an intimate place, tongues just seconds away from passing parted lips, but one of you would always stop when you realized you were about to get carried away. And he’d gotten hard more than once, but you always pretended not to notice, acting like you didn’t feel it pressing into your thigh while your legs were tangled together.

Acknowledging it would’ve meant confronting feelings you weren’t ready to at the time, and there was always the possibility it meant nothing, that it was just a physical reaction independent of his brain and how he felt about you. But now that you know all that you do, you hope it means he’s always wanted more with you.. And you have to admit, the self restraint it’d take not to act on his desires makes him all the more appealing. What can you say except consent is key, and knowing he has self control even when he wants you bad is sexy.

He does it again- that unconscious squeeze of your hips the more you kiss him, and you wonder what exactly it stems from; a desire to have you as close as possible, a way to ground himself as he gets worked up, or maybe even both. You hope it's both. You pull away from his kiss, sitting up and staring down at him, your hands lingering on his chest. “I want to ask you something,” you speak softly, voice almost a whisper, face growing impossibly hot. “And don’t give me a smartass reply, or I’m leaving!” You follow up sternly, and Seungmin chuckles, grabs one of the hands you have resting on his chest, and intertwines your fingers.

“I won’t, promise,” he says, not a hint of teasing in his voice or his smile. As fun as it is to tease you and poke fun, he can tell when the moment calls for him to be earnest and take you seriously. You breathe a sigh of relief, or maybe you’re letting out a breath to ground yourself before you speak; either way, Seungmin watches you attentively, a bit puzzled but entirely patient. “Do you.. Did you ever think about, uh- doing more when we were kissing..?” you ask, nervously chewing on your lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Oh,” Seungmin blinks, his own face growing hot alongside yours. He promised he’d give an honest, serious answer, but even if he didn’t, he doubts he would’ve been able to play it off. Looking into your eyes while he tries to admit it makes the words lodge in his throat, so he turns his head and looks away, the hot red of his blush burning all the way to the tips of his ears. Same as when he admitted he wanted to kiss you, all he says is “yes.” No elaboration, no ifs, whens, or buts; just yes. And that’s all he needs to say, really. It speaks for itself.

He hesitates to look back at you and see your reaction, but the moment he does turn his head, you’re kissing him again, more eager and impassioned than you ever have before, the noise of surprise he lets out muffled by your lips. Your tongue peeks out, just barely brushes over his own, almost cautiousm and an involuntary noise of approval escapes you when you feel his tongue slip past his lips to meet yours.

You separate your hand from Seungmin’s, and he brings his hand back to your hip while yours returns to his chest. You open your mouth for him, invite his tongue further in, and he squeezes your hips once more when you do. The feeling of his tongue sliding against yours is dizzying, makes your stomach fill to the brim with butterflies, excitement building in your gut in ways you’ve never experienced.

You feel him growing hard beneath you, and you don’t ignore it the way you would have before; you purposely press into it, grind yourself down on Seungmin’s lap and swallow the gasp he lets out. You lose track of how long you stay like this, grinding on his lap while your tongues swirl around each other's, your heavy breaths and every noise swallowed by the other. You’re out of breath by the time you finally pull away, your chests rapidly rising and falling, his shirt twisted in your palms.

Seungmin looks almost dazed, and to be fair, you sort of are too; neither of you ever expected you’d be here like this. To Seungmin, you were unobtainable; someone he loved but could never have, and he tried so many times to make his peace with it, though he never could. There's a part of him that still can’t even believe you’re choosing him, that thinks maybe this is a dream he’ll soon wake up from. And in your case, it took you too long to realize your priorities were wrong, and your feelings didn’t always mean what you thought they did; that love is more than what looks good and correct on paper.

You realized you don’t need perfection and matching titles and fairytale romance. Love doesn’t follow a formula, it doesn’t adhere to standards of nobility and preconceived notions on who a princess should love. You have two best friends, and they’re both vitally important to you, but the one you truly fell in love with turned out to be so opposite from what you thought your type truly was. You love Seungmin, with his quips, sarcasm, imperfections, and all. It’s unfortunate you didn’t realize it sooner, but you’re happy you’re sure of it now. And now that you have him, you’re never letting him go.

“I want you,” you tell him, and though you’re the most shy you’ve ever been, and can’t quite look him in the eye as you admit it, you still get it out, clear and direct. It’s impressive, enviable, how shyness doesn’t prevent you from ever speaking your mind. “Do you.. want me too?” you ask, and he can feel your hands trembling as you continue to hold onto his shirt, waiting for his answer with bated breath. “Yes,” he assures; always has, and always will.

You smile before you lean down to capture his lips in another kiss, wet, hot and messy. “This okay?” you pull away just slightly to ask, still so close that he can feel your every breath on his lips, your hand traveling down his chest and over his stomach. More than okay, he wants to say, but all that he can manage to let out is another “yes.” Your fingers ghost over the hem of his pants, his breath hitching when you palm him over the fabric.

It’s embarrassing how much pre-cum has stained and moistened the fabric of his pants, and he’s sure you can feel it beneath your hand. He closes his eyes, furrows his brows as he tries not to become flustered and increasingly more red. A breathy groan escapes him when you slide your hand inside, your hand encircling his cock, and he opens his eyes to look at you, twitching involuntarily when he sees the hungry look in your eyes.

You kiss him when he starts to bite at his lip, greedily swallow every groan that tumbles out of him. Seungmin can’t believe how much better your hand feels than his own, how soft and warm and perfect- and when you pull away from his lips to stare down at him, he looks up at you like you hold the entire world in your hands. You’ve never done this before, but instinct carries you far, and if Seungmin’s reactions are any sign, you’re doing a good enough job so far.

Carefully removing your hand from inside his pants and sitting up completely, you move your hands to the end of your dress, where it pools on your upper thighs, and take it in your hands, pulling it up and over your head, tossing it onto the floor behind you. Seungmin’s eyes grow wide, swallowing thickly as he stares at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but it makes sense that you’d do this; you’ve always been the type to act first and foremost.

You smile at him, shy and sweet, but still impossibly confident too. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, let him grope you over your bra, and it sends him reeling. You’re assertive, direct, a go-getter; when you know you want something, you just go for it, simple as that. But still, this is.. you’re gonna drive him crazy before the night is over. You reach behind your back, unhook your bra with familiar ease, the straps sliding down your arm.

Seungmin swallows, knowing the moment he lets you go your bra will fall from your body and expose your chest to him. Deciding to take a page out of your book, and display some confidence despite the fact that his face is impossibly hot, he takes his hands away, lifts his back off the bed and pulls his own shirt off before he can get distracted by the image of you bare before him.

You toss your fallen bra aside, and he allows himself to stare for just a moment before he brings a hand to the nape of your neck and brings you down to kiss him. You squeak in surprise, but then he feels you smiling against his lips as you return his kiss. Mirroring what you did before, his hand travels between your thighs, feeling your heat over your panties. It’s a bit of an awkward reach that causes strain on his arm, but the minute he feels the wet patch, he doesn’t even fucking think about the strain anymore.

Seungmin brings his fingers to the hem of your panties, glancing at you before he moves any further. You nod at him, giving him permission to slip his hand inside. And fuck, you’re soaked- he barely even has to move his fingers around to get them completely coated. “You’re- ‘s so wet,” he breathes out, almost amazed, and you whine, burying your face in his shoulder as some semblance of shyness finally clutches you.

“Your fault,” you mumble, and Seungmin chuckles, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “You’re cute when you’re being shy,” he tells you, and you quickly lift your head to glare at him. “Don’t get cocky, I will actually kill you,” you threaten. “And spend the rest of your life without me when just one day makes you miserable?” he teases, and you whine, grabbing one of his pillows and hitting him with it.

“Remind me to never tell you when I miss you ever again,” you huff, and Seungmin coos, the menace that he is, before he pulls you into a sweet, passionate kiss. You easily melt into it, further complaints dying when his tongue touches yours. He takes your breasts in his hands again, thumbs rubbing over your nipples and making your entire body shudder. You gasp when he takes them between his fingers, squirming and whimpering when he rolls and softly pinches them.

His cock unceremoniously twitches in response to your pleasured noises, each one driving him crazier than the last; he needs you bad. “Want you,” he mumbles against your lips, and you hum, pulling away to look at him. “Wanna fuck me?” you ask, head tilted as a coy smile plays on your lips. Fucking hell- you call him a menace, but you’re the real threat here; you make him insane. “Isn’t that obvious?” he asks, ignoring the heat on his face and trying to act as unphased by your words as possible.

“Yeah, it is actually,” you smile and he scoffs, rolling his eyes as you giggle. Menace. You lift your hips off his lap, moving off to the side of the bed so you can slide your panties down your legs. He watches you intently, swallowing when you turn back to him and gaze at him expectantly. Right, he has to get undressed too. Lifting off the bed, he tries not to think about the fact that you’re staring at him as he pulls his pants and underwear down his thighs in one motion.

You crawl back in his lap when he’s finished kicking the bunched fabric off his legs, neither of you paying any mind to where on his floor it lands. Seungmin’s brain feels like it’s going to short circuit while he’s staring at you; you’re beautiful, sexy, straddling his lap entirely naked, a moment he thought would only ever exist in his wet dreams. You take a breath, steady your nerves as you reach between your bodies to take his cock in your hand.

It twitches in your hand, throbs as you align it with your dripping hole. You swallow, glancing back up at Seungmin’s face before you act. He can’t take your other hand in his as you’re using it to support your weight, so instead he reaches for your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. You lean into his touch, smiling softly and indulging in his affection for just a moment before you start to slowly sink down on him.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder as you continue. Even just the sensation of the tip pushing inside is overwhelming, and the more of him you take, the more the pleasure in your gut builds. It’s unfamiliar, there’s a sting and a dull ache, but mostly it just feels good- better than anything you’ve ever felt.

You open your eyes and look at Seungmin when your hips are finally flush with his, butterflies exploding when you see him struggling to keep himself together. His breaths are harsh and heavy, sweat dripping down his forehead, jaw clenched as he tries to prevent himself from cumming too fast. “You- you okay?” he asks, voice tense with effort, and you nod, leaning down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss.

He throbs when you do, his hands moving to your hips and holding them tightly, your naked chests pressed together. When you’re ready, you experimentally roll your hips, whimpering softly into the kiss while you cling to his body. He groans with each slow roll of your hips, and it takes all he has not to bruise you in his grip and to stop his hips from chasing yours when you start to carefully bounce.

It’s slow at first, still adjusting and finding the rhythm you're most comfortable with, what works for you and what feels good, but when you figure it out, God, please have mercy on him. The noises you make turn his brain into an absolute puddle, and when you whimper out his name he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to recover. And the way you clench around him, the wet sounds between your legs and of your thighs slapping together each time your hips rise and fall back to his lap- he can’t fucking take it.

“M-Minnie-” you gasp, your pace faltering, legs screaming from all the exertion. “C-Close, but- ‘m tired,” you whine and pout, doing your best to push through the fatigue, but you’re not sure how much longer you can. Your legs and knees ache terribly, having been bent long before his dick was even inside you, and they’re in desperate need of a break. “Wanna switch?” he asks and you quickly nod, uttering a small “please,” as you still your hips.

Seungmin helps you lie on your back, quickly taking his place between your legs and pressing himself back inside in one swift motion. You gasp, eyes rolling back when he starts to quickly fuck into you, your hands clutching and twisting the sheets beneath you. He grabs your hands and makes you hold his instead, intertwines your fingers and makes no complaint when your nails dig into the flesh under his knuckles.

He kisses you desperately, tongue messily swirling around yours, swallowing every loud whimper and moan that spills from your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, your stomach knots and twists, your entire body trembles from the overwhelming pleasure. You snake your dominant hand from out of his grip and bring it to your clit, rubbing it in quick, messy circles. He pulls away from your lips to look between your bodies and watch, cursing when you squeeze him tighter.

Before you know it, you’re gasping and crying, body jolting and squirming as your orgasm washes over you, hot pleasure licking every inch of your body. Seungmin’s head falls forward, gritting his teeth as he sloppily fucks you through it, his own release not far behind. You’re breathless and panting, but you grab his face and pull him into another kiss regardless, and it sends him over the edge, his eyes rolling back as his cum shoots inside you in long, hot spurts.

Seungmin pulls out slowly, carefully, paying no mind to the mess his cum trickling out of you makes on his blankets. It doesn’t matter, he can call someone to change the sheets for him later- right now he just wants to focus on you. He lies next to you and kisses you, over and over, holding you close to his chest and squeezing you in his arms. “Clingy, aren’t we?” you playfully mutter against his lips, and he can’t even bring himself to say something witty in response.

“Yeah,” he smoothly admits, not denying one bit how infatuated he is with you, “I’m obsessed with you. That a problem?” You blink, all the red that left your face instantly returning- you weren’t expecting a response like that, nor for him to say it so earnestly. “Not since I love you,” you say after you recover, smiling shyly and giggling when he seems surprised. “Do you?” he asks, and you pout; does he still not think you do, even after all that?

“Of course I do! I love you so much, Minnie, you.. You’re the only one I want,” you speak from the heart, and Seungmin smiles, playful and smug. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it again,” he tells you, and you shove him, whining loudly when he laughs. “You’re such an ass!” you cry, and he pulls you back to him, hugging you close and pecking your lips when you pout. “I love you too,” he says, so sweetly that it makes you melt.

You stay cuddled together like that for some time, limbs tangled together, comfortable and secure. Neither of you wants to be the one to break away first, and though you teased him for it, you love how clingy Seungmin can be when he lets his guard down. You hope he leaves it down a lot from now on; because you love him, and with how stubborn you are, you’ll never let him be pried from your fingers. He’s yours, and you're his, now, forever, always.

It took longer than you would’ve liked to realize it, but this is the love you’ve always wanted. Seungmin completes you, he’s your missing piece, the one who understands you. Similar in the ways that matters, and contrasts you perfectly in the places you differ. You bicker and you tease and sometimes you fight, but you love with your whole hearts; and you’ll never again doubt that or be confused on what it is you want, because this is it. It’s not the fairytale you dreamed of as a kid, but it’s better than that; because it’s real, Seungmin’s love is real, and there’s nothing better you could ever ask for.

#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #kim seungmin x reader #skz smut #kim seungmin smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune #stayed up all night proofreading and editing so if i look at this again when i wake up and saw i missed something i will kms

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