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tired-biscuit · 7 months

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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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saintsugu · 6 months

Text

PLAY TIME; KINKTOBER DAY 5

rating: mature; mdni

pairing; yuuji itadori / ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

word count: 5.6k

content warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+, apocalypse au, vague horror (aka it’s kind of creepy), vaginal penetration, all of the explicit sex is with sukuna, manhandling, true-form sukuna, monster fucking (two cocks // four arms), non con, sadomasochism, slight dacryphilia, dvp, usage of pet, bellybulge, unprotected sex, cumflation, alluding to cucking

Author’s note: super unedited. i’m really proud of this fic + the idea as a whole, but i’m really proud of the fact that I got the last 2/3k done in about 1.5 hrs. please enjoy the last piece of 2023’s Kinktober!<3

Today, the forest is ominously quiet—even more so than usual. Dead leaves crunch underneath your boot with every step and it makes your skin crawl; not to mention how freezing cold it is. How did you even end up out here alone to begin with?

Letting out a shaky breath, which is painfully visible, you try to tug your sleeves down to cover your numb hands. As you’re in the process of doing so, the frightening noise of a twig snapping has your hand instead finding your knife on instinct.

It could be an animal, but it’s not likely. Given the time of year, most are hibernating, and those that aren’t have already been skinned and cooked.

You turn around yet are met with nothing except the forest from which you came. With the trees being as crowded together as they are, it’s easy for someone to hide, so your guard isn’t exactly down just yet.

After many excruciating minutes of silence, a voice speaks and you’re too terrified to realize who it is. Unsheathing your blade, you take a step behind you and are ready to hit whoever may be in front of you.

“Hey, stop, it’s me!”

Yuuji catches your wrist within moments of impact. Despite his desire to always be gentle with you, the current predicament required a bit of force from his end and you couldn’t help but wince before releasing the knife. The blade clatters against the stones below you and you sigh so loud in relief that you’re sure the entire forest could hear it.

Your eyes soften and you press your head against his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was you.” The statement is fairly obvious, yet you still feel the need to clarify that you didn’t mean to try and stab your boyfriend, rather than the stalker you figured he was.

“Don’t be,” you can feel his hand intertwining with yours and it makes you feel safe. “Let’s go home. I already carved out a path for us, I was just looking for you.”

The trek back to the cabin is short but a bit steep. Yuuji’s holding onto you tightly the entire trip. The grip on your hand aids in making you feel a little more at peace despite the eerie crawl of the woods.

The cold weather has been well appreciated. Both you and Yuuji find it much easier to layer up and use blankets, rather than deal with turning the generator on fully to keep cool. The way you have it now, you’re able to keep it on for a few hours at a time—just enough for you to shower and do whatever else requires electricity, before shutting it off. There are only a few downsides to the chilling temperatures; one of which, being the fog that occupies the forest.

It completely limits visibility; that’s nice if you’re holed up in the cabin, but when you’re out scavenging? Horrible. You can’t even see two feet in front of you.

“Be careful. Step over,” he carefully directs you, quiet as he grips your hand a little tighter. It’s how you know you’ve arrived home. You’re careful to raise your feet and make sure you don’t bump against the fence that Yuuji had staked into the ground.

The wiring itself isn’t awfully thick, but it keeps most animals away; not to mention that it’s main function is sound purposes. Along the wires, there are different cans and bells that will rattle if the fence is at all bumped or tugged. It’s a good method to keep you and Yuuji up worrying all night.

It’s so cold. Your words are barely above a whisper, hands shivering slightly as the cabin comes into view. You can nearly hear the frown in Yuuji’s voice when he tells you that you’re almost there. He’s been very….overprotective of you, to say the least. It’s not like you can blame him, though. The world is scary now.

“Close it a little softer next time.” You can’t help but teasingly scold your partner as you step into the warm home.

“But I wanted to shut it before the wind picked up.” It’s cute, the way he snickers at you before moving towards the fireplace. “You should change into something clean while I start the fire.”

You had planned to already, so you have no issue bouncing towards your shared room to change your clothes. When you return back, Yuuji has busied himself with the fireplace.

Moments like this are nice. Those times, no matter how brief they may be, where you get to watch your boyfriend clumsily set the logs on fire. The simplicity of it all nearly makes you forget the world right outside of your door that has gone to hell.

It’s just you and the boy occupying the cabin. At different points, people have come and gone, but it’s been a long time since you’ve met eyes with anyone other than Yuuji. A man by the name Megumi stayed with you for a bit, nearly six months, actually, before taking his leave in search of his father. The rest, you’ve long forgotten their names. It’s quite…sad, actually. You spend a lot of nights wondering about their whereabouts.

“You like what you see?” He teases. His palms are pressed against the floor behind him, lanky limbs spread out a bit as he uses his locked out arms to hold him up.

“Oh always,” you nearly giggle. He never fails at finding a way to cheer you up.

Eventually, he stands up to help you make some food. It’s nothing special, really. You just boil rice over the fire and cook it with some canned chicken that Yuuji managed to find on a run last week.

Food has been getting harder to manage as of late. Thankfully, when this started, there was already a large pantry full of non-perishable food inside the cabin. Even with that being said, it’s been years and supplies are depleting rapidly. Between the two of you, you surprisingly don’t eat much, so it’s easier to ration better, but with less than half of the supplies left, you can’t help but worry.

“It’s good,” he says, taking a bite. He’s leaned against the wall across from you—you’re both still keeping warm near the fireplace.

If it weren’t for the bitter temperatures, you would’ve probably sat at the large, oak table in the dining room— a table that’s much too big for only the two of you —but with the crisp and cold air, you opted to eat on the floor in favor of the warmth.

It’s sweet but it makes you laugh a little. He always tries to make you feel better, no matter what the topic at hand is; he’s like a man consoling his wife. “If it wasn’t, I’d be worried. Takes a lot of work to fuck up rice and chicken,” you say playfully.

“Better than I could do.” His laughter is contagious. It fills the air the same as it fills your lungs. The pure joy you feel when hearing it, spreads through your entire being as your lips curl into a smile of their own. “I’m serious!” He grins even wider. “Gramps used to make all my meals for the most part.”

“‘Dunno how you got this far like that.” You’re laying on your stomach while you tease him. Your body is nearly perpendicular with the wall, but the side of your head rests against a pillow. Having already finished your meal, you have nothing better to do than shamelessly stare at your lover.

The sound of the fire crackling mixes with the boy’s voice and fills the room. It all feels so cozy that it makes you forget what awaits you outside of that small wire fence. He makes it easy to forget—or to ignore, for better lack of words.

When you’re staring into his eyes, it’s easy to pretend like you’re unaware of the storm raging outside. As if you don’t know the world is burning the same way the shriveled firewood has.

Once he finishes his bowl, you find it as a perfect chance to straddle his lap. With your legs spread, your knees press into the plush carpeting. The moment can only be described as intimate as your foreheads touch.

“I love you.” It’s a quiet affirmation that you both repeat at the same time. The repetition causes you both to laugh, before he silences you with a soft kiss. “My girl,” he whispers.

Slow kisses begin to get more desperate as his hands roam your body. He’s in nothing more than a black tank top, and a pair of thin pajama pants that are too baggy for him. It gives you easy access as you kiss his neck, uncaring of how you do so; it’s not like anyone will see.

For the rest of the night, Yuji conveys just how much he loves you. Your time spent together consists of limbs messily intertwining as he has his way with you on the floor. Despite having full control over a willing partner, Yuuji is still so sweet and kind to you. He may accidentally overestimate his strength and manhandle you slightly, but he always tries his hardest to not hurt you in any way.

He brings you to the edge more times than you would have ever imagined and he’s a bit more…clingy than usual—not that you mind, of course. You just hadn’t realized how scared he had gotten when you got seperated in the forest. He definitely did a good job of hiding it from you.

After cleaning up and triple-checking that the doors are locked and the windows are still boarded up, you make your way into the bedroom. You feel extremely safe and secure as you lay beside him. An arm draped over your side as he pulls you close into his chest.

“Goodnight,” he whispers softly. You swear that your name has never sounded sweeter than when it’s dripping off his tongue.

Thanks to his comforting touch, you’re asleep within minutes.

— three years ago.

Run. Keep running. Don’t stop.

Those words repeat through your head on a loop. They got louder and louder the more you felt your body start to slow. You’re running out of energy. As much as you wish it could, even your sudden burst of adrenaline isn’t enough to combat your starvation and dehydration.

You feel like you’ve been running for days—like some wild animal that’s being hunted down. Every time you try to take a breath, they’re on your heels again.

Nearly 3 weeks ago, you had stumbled upon a small group. They offered you food and shelter, in return for manual labor. Due to your starved state, you didn’t think to ask many questions before taking the water they offered you and mindlessly agreeing.

Unfortunately, what you had hoped to be a new companionship, turned out to be psychopaths trying to force you to kill unsuspecting people. They would track down homes and kill whoever resided in them. You tried to sneak out, but they caught on and were quick to chase after you.

It’s been over a week of this little chase, and you can barely stand. You’re beginning to wonder if running is even worth it, at this point.

Despite seeing it, your brain doesn’t fully process the branch in the path until after you’ve tripped over it. You have absolutely no time to recover as you fall straight towards the dirt.

“Shit,” you curse, feeling thorns poking against you. As you lie on the ground, exhaustion setting in even more so now than before, your inner monologue morphs.

Get up.

You’re nearly screaming at yourself. Every part of your body feels heavy. No matter how hard you will yourself to get back on your feet, you’re rendered incapable.

The approach sound of footsteps confirms that this is the end. Once they find you, they’ll kill you without a second thought. At least I tried. It’s the last thought that runs through your brain as the footsteps get louder and everything goes dark.

It’s quiet. You like it.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt so…at peace.

“You’re awake.” The voice sounds panicked but…happy?

You’re quick to shoot up, but you’re surprised when your hands move freely. If they didn’t kill you, you had at least expected them to restrain you somehow. Yet, when you look around the room, it’s so unfamiliar.

“…who are you? A-are you with them?” You feel weak at the stammer in your voice, but it can’t be helped. Despite his soft features, you’re terrified of the man sitting across from you.

It’s clear that he’s confused, but you still aren’t convinced. “With who? When I found you, you were unconscious in the dirt.”

That doesn’t make sense. Did they…stop looking for me?

You nearly ask again, but you’d rather not be questioned about why you were running. If he wanted to kill you he would’ve done it when you were knocked out cold. There’s no reasonable explanation for him to bring you back to his home and do it there.

“I’m Yuuji,” he says and you can tell that he’s worried he’ll upset you. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It didn’t take long for you to warm up to him after that. You truly had nowhere else to go, so you slept in the guest room of his cabin for months, until one day, things took a bit of a…different route.

“How’d you find this cabin anyways, Yu’?” Your voice is a bit higher than usual as you lean against the plush couch. On his latest supply run, the boy brought back a good amount of alcohol and you both agreed that it’d be a shame to let it go to waste.

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, words a bit slurred. “It was my Gramps’. Been in the family since before I was born. It was my family’s designated rendezvous place—we all kind of picked it as a joke but,” he pauses. The silence is deafening as you hang on his words. “I was the only one who made it here.”

Your expression drops. Neither of you had attempted to ask about the other’s families in the months you’ve known each other, finding it a bit of a personal topic to bring up at random, but now, considering you’re both tipping over the edge from the alcohol…your filters are a little less engaged.

“It’s okay, though,” he takes a sip of his beer as he plasters a fake grin onto his face. He pauses, before his face turns sour. Initially, you believe that he’s about to open up, add on to what he said, but you quickly stand corrected when he bolts up and starts to walk— no, run off.

“Yuuji?” You call after him as he disappears from your view. Due to the drinks, your reaction time is a bit sluggish, so it takes a minute before you’re up and following him. Once you finally follow him into the open bathroom, you find him hunched over the toilet and it suddenly makes sense.

His beer can is on the floor, its contents pooling around the base of the toilet as Yuuji uses his forearms to keep himself stable. He doesn’t throw up much, mostly just coughing and gagging— Still, the sight brings up a few…unpleasant memories and the sounds alone make a melancholic feeling settle in your chest.

“Do you want some water?” You offer, but he shakes his head.

“Stay here.” It’s a simple request. His words are slurred, but the look in his droopy eyes tells you he means it. He rests his head against his right forearm, staring directly at you as he tries to regain his strength.

Eventually, you settle onto the floor a few feet away from him. With your back against the door, you curl your knees up to your chest and just wait for him to feel better. A few minutes pass, neither of you would really be able to count how many, but he finds himself leaning against the bathtub rather than the toilet.

“’m glad I found you,” he says quietly, voice hoarse from coughing so much. “I was kind of going crazy all by myself. I swore I started hearing things,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

It’s so peculiar to you how Yuuji is so…positive. Even now, drunk and hunched over a toilet bowl, he finds it in him to laugh. You don’t have it in you to tell him that you’re happy to— cause that would require admitting that you care about him.

“What were you doing before all this?” You ask him curiously, trying to change the subject. It’s something you’ve wondered for a long time yet never found a way to bring it up.

“I was just a college student,” he laughs a bit, the skin of his eyes creasing at the thought. “I delivered pizzas when I could. Did some odd jobs, too. Like…landscaping for my grandpa’s neighbors and shit. What about you?”

“Just bartending,” you nod, thinking back to those simple times. “It was good money.”

The two of you sit and talk like that for a little longer, until Yuuji eventually starts to doze off. As cute as he looks as his eyes flutter shut, you know better than to let him sleep there. “C’mon, let's get you to bed,” you say softly, helping him stand up.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmurs, half asleep and still inebriated as he leans against you. You’re practically dragging him towards the bedroom with his arm around your shoulder. “And pretty too. ‘M so happy we found you…”

That night and in that moment, you were too hung up on him calling you pretty to acknowledge the we in his words; or maybe you did notice, but it was subconsciously easier to just…chalk it off as a slip of the tongue.

—

You’re drenched in sweat as you suddenly wake up, body practically launching away from the bed. You press your palm to your chest, feeling the way your heart is beating at an inhumane rate.

For the past few weeks, you’ve been having vivid nightmares. Usually, they’re all similar; all having to do with you being taken or something of the sort. Tonight’s dream was a bit different.

You were in the cabin, but nothing was working. The boards were off the windows, the fireplace wouldn’t light, and the generator wouldn’t work. Thankfully, you woke up before anything bad could truly happen, but waking up was bad in and of itself, considering the bed is empty with Yuuji nowhere to be found.

“…Baby?” You call out nervously, leaning over to turn your bedside lamp on. You were hoping that he was just in the bathroom, but that hope is quickly squashed when he doesn’t call back.

With a stuttered sigh, your legs swing over the side of the bed as you prepare to search for your lover. Shaking hands sift through your drawer, pushing around objects you forgot existed, before landing on a thick flashlight. It illuminates the room, making your eyes widen in a weak attempt to adjust to the light.

Your footsteps are light and cautious against the creaking wood and it’s a scene straight from a horror movie. Once on the stairs, you can hear something creaking— a door or a window— but when you get in the kitchen, you can’t seem to find anything.

Timid as a mouse, your voice is quiet as you call out for Yuuji. There’s no response, of course not, but as you begin to speak again, you’re very quickly disrupted.

A thick hand wraps around your face, easily covering your lips and practically suffocating you as his fingertips dig into your cheekbones. Panic bubbles out of your throat, eyes wide with adrenaline, yet as you go to scream, another hand finds its place around your throat.

“Don’t scream.” A dark and eerily familiar sound pierces your ear. It’s a contorted and dark version of a voice you hear every day. “Or you could, but who’ll find you?” He mocks sadistically.

Your head is yanked back, nearly giving you whiplash as it makes contact with the man’s chest. You feel as though you’re about to hurl. The panic is presenting itself clear in the form of bile in your throat, and the fear in the form of tears.

“I’ve sat on the sidelines for too fucking long.”

Another hand begins to tug at your flimsy pajama shorts— wait, another hand…?

Looking down in absolute horror, you’re greeted by a third arm tussling at your clothes. You’re convinced you’re going insane, but it’s so real. At this point, with dead people walking around, nothing should surprise you, but even so, you can’t help the way your eyes widen in horror at the side of multiple sets of arms.

You’re far too distraught to even register the way the fabric tears at your thigh, completely ripping apart with a flick of his hand. The lump in your throat grows, making your mouth dry as you struggle to speak.

“W-who are you?”

The man behind you just laughs— a deeply disturbing sound as it vibrates throughout the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, just grabs your waist with one of four hands and begins to drag you; where exactly, you aren’t sure.

Amongst the laughter, he covers your eyes as he manhandles you away. He’s keeping your sight obscured until you can ‘properly see me’, as if it’s some sort of game. It’s terrifying.

It feels like the wind is knocked out of you with how roughly he’s shoving you against a hard surface— your table, you soon realize. He maneuvers you as if you’re some kind of doll and gets you laying onto the table before your vision is finally returned. He retracts two out of four hands; keeping them only on your waist and throat.

Your heart drops when you finally see the man in front of you. It’s Yuuji— your Yuuji, but his body is deformed. He’s much taller and stockier for starters. He’s missing the lean figure that you’ve grown to adore. Instead, he’s towering over you ever more, with an extra pair of arms sprouting from his midsection. One of the most disturbing parts, though, are the second and third eyes. They’re placed directly under his regular eyes, but they’re half the size. It makes you want to throw up.

“What? You don’t like seeing your baby Yuuji?” he imitates you with a sadistic grin.

You’re shuddering in fear, throat constricted just enough to let you speak. “You are not my Y-Yuuji,” you stammer, shaking like a goddamn leaf.

He just laughs, tugging at your panties. Even with you desperately squeezing your thighs together, he rips them apart with ease. “You’re right, I’m not. Yuuji couldn’t fuck you properly even if someone was telling him how.”

What is he talking about? Who is this?

“And trust me, I tried,” he says, like he’s exasperated as he rips your panties off. “Every time I talk to him, he just ignores me. Little brat.” He’s muttering to himself as thick hands pry your legs apart.

“Please, don’t,” your voice shakes, resorting to your seemingly last option of begging whoever this imposter is. “I-I’ll give you anything else just don’t…” you can’t even speak it out loud. You know what he wants to do to you— what he’s about to do.

Your pleading is met with a loud, and mocking laugh. “You look so cute like that; all helpless and crying. You humans have always looked best like that.” It makes sense. You would’ve never described him as human. You don’t know where he’s going with this tangent, but his voice soon drops an octave and answers your question.

“Do you really think I’m gonna pass up the chance to get what I’ve been craving for so long? Why, because of a few tears?” You hadn’t even realized you were crying until then, but now that you know, the dams are releasing.

“W-who are you?” Sure, he’s claimed to be Yuuji, but it’s clear that you aren’t falling for that. His eyes zero on your cunt as thick fingers begin to prod at your folds. None of the movements make sense and it’s clearly not for your pleasure. It feels more as if he’s just inspecting it.

It’s been a long time since he’s been let out to play, after all.

“Call me Sukuna, Doll.” His words are eerily dark before he roughly shoves a finger into your cunt. For the most part, you’re fairly dry, but he knows that he can change that; and he knows that it won’t take him long, either. Humans are simple creatures.

Tears slip out of your eyes faster, only fueling him on even more as he starts to finger fuck you. His fingers are a lot thicker than the slender digits that you’ve gotten used to. It hurts but it also..feels good? You hate even thinking that, but you can’t deny the physical pleasure you’re experiencing despite the mental anguish alongside it.

“You’re wet,” he obnoxiously observes, uncaring of the way it makes you squirm. “Do my fingers feel that good? Or are you just used to Yuuji treating you like glass?” You don’t respond, instead opting to turn your head away.

A third finger slips in and you swear that it’s already the equivalent of your boyfriend’s cock. “I always told him that he needed to be rougher. The little brat wouldn’t listen but I knew better; I know that girls like you just want to be treated like whores.”

As the pad of his fingers press into your g-spot, you finally let out a moan. It’s whiney and high pitched and out of fucking nowhere. In all of the times he’s listened in on you and Yuuji having sex— which has been every time — he’s never heard a noise like that leave your lips. It has his ego inflating even further.

Immediately, you’re trying to bring a hand to your lips, trying so hard to muffle the noises that keep seeping out like a waterfall. Still, it’s no use once Sukuna catches onto what you’re doing. A large hand overpowers your own as he pins it against the hard table.

“Don’t do that,” he demands, a sick grin on his face. “I want him to hear.” Him? Yuuji can hear?

You’ve been far too scared to put together all of Sukuna’s implications. Too riddled with fear to even think about if Yuuji knew that this demon was living inside of him. Even so, from everything he’s said, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out.

It doesn’t take much longer for his patience to break. With one hand still buried inside of your cunt, two others are undoing his sweats. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight you see next.

Not only is his cock considerably bigger than Yuuji’s, but there’s two of them.

With panic spreading through your body, you’re very quickly trying to scramble away. “T-those can’t—“ you’re stammering, body attempting to crawl away from him and up the table. Even with you slipping away, he’s trying to line one of his cocks up. “Those can’t go inside of me. Y-you’re fucking crazy,” you curse, mind reeling just at the thought of him trying to jam just one of those things inside of you.

“Stay fucking still,” he barks, yanking you back down and right onto his dick. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, and your eyes begin to roll back. With your lips parted in an O, he finds himself groaning at the feeling of your tight heat and the sight of your oh so beautiful face twisted up in both pleasure and pain.

With a deep groan vibrating his entire chest, he bottoms out inside of you. He feels impossibly deep as he nestles inside of you. Your nails scrape against the wooden surface, and your back arches. Your entire body is being overwhelmed by the intense pain he’s causing, yet you can’t deny the element of pleasure that’s mixed in.

You would’ve never mentioned it to him, but Yuuji did always treat you like glass. He was always a bit too kind and a bit too gentle. It felt good, just not…intense.

“Sukuna,” you nearly scream the name, hips stuttering as you try to not cum right then. He’s pushing your knees up to your chest, leaning forward to get a good look at the pathetic puddle he’s turned you into, as he fucks you roughly.

“You sound good saying my name, pet,” he laughs, thrusting deep into you as his second cock rests above your stomach. “I always knew you would.”

The two of you stay like that for awhile— Sukuna fucking you within an inch of your life, and you taking it like some sort of rag doll. It doesn’t take much longer for you to cum. With the length of his second cock rubbing against your clit, you’re easily overstimulated until you're squirting all over him.

That’s another thing you’ve never done with Yuuji. It feels so dirty and twisted, but fuck, you can’t deny how good this monster is making you feel. His cock is reaching places you didn’t think possible and it’s driving you insane.

After what feels like forever, Sukuna’s finally starting to pull out. You’re practically half-conscious at this point. Your body is lolled out on the table, limply laying there as you stare up at him with lidded eyes.

You watch as his, seemingly permanent, grin widens, and you don’t fully understand why it is, until you feel something else prodding at your hole. He’s not…is he?

For the nth time tonight, your eyes widen at the sight of him trying to push his other cock into your pussy beside the one that’s already there.

“S-Sukuna it won’t fit, it won't—“

“Will you ever learn to shut up?” He snarls, starting to push in. Thankfully for him, two cocks is a quick way to get you to quiet down. You’re far too preoccupied with getting stretched beyond your limits to worry about talking back.

It feels like you’re going to explode at any given time. It’s just too much. You could barely fit what was in you before, let alone double. Your eyes twitch due to how hard they’re rolling.

Finally, as you begin to regain some semblance of control over your body, you try to refocus your vision. Your eyes land on Sukuna once more, studying how he begins to look less like Yuuji the longer this goes on. He’s beginning to morph into his own self. It’s weird and creepy and you want it to stop.

Drifting away in search of something else to latch onto, your eyes find another thing to focus on. This one, though, is much more alarming.

A thick bulge can be seen poking through your skin in the shape of his cock. You watch in absolute horror as it moves in tandem with his hips.

“You little humans,” he purrs. “All so fragile. Look at that…” once his hand goes to trace the bulge and you finally see just how large his hands really are. “Look how deep inside of you I am. C’mon,” he taps your cheek, trying to pull you from your dazed state. “You can’t fall asleep yet.”

He doesn’t even give you the chance to say something in response. Instead, he begins to fuck you at a rough pace. Not as fast as earlier, but a lot deeper. With each stroke, you find yourself crying out his name and reeling from the pleasure he’s providing. It’s sick and insane that you’re finding any aspect of this enjoyable, let alone all of it. Every single movement has you one step closer to cumming.

By the time Sukuna’s emptying both of his cocks inside of you and filling you to the brim with cum, you’ve already hit your climax two additional times. You’re completely dazed over at this point, barely even conscious, and definitely not aware enough to notice how swollen your tummy is due to the copious amount of cum he dumped inside of you.

He hasn’t even pulled out yet, but he’s letting out a deep sigh. The deal he and Yuuji made was that he got to fuck you once and only until he came. He has a feeling Yuuji won’t allow him any other fun than that, especially since it’s going to be hard enough trying to convince you this was a nightmare or whatever other bullshit he’ll try to feed you.

“Okay, brat,” he mutters, pressing down lightly on the bulge and watching you haphazardly squirm. “I’m done now. Let’s go.”

One. Two. Three.

Nothing comes. No one switches.

A devilish grin finds Sukuna’s face once more.

“God, you’re such a little pervert,” he laughs. “You want to watch me fuck her brains out again, don’t you, Yuuji?” Even with no response, he knows he’s right.

His hand strokes your cheek gently, before roughly grabbing your jaw, scaring you but not enough to jolt you awake.

“Seems like we get to have some more fun, Doll.”

tagging: @enchantedforest-network , @themovingcastlez , @hannzai , @pussydrunkfyodor , @chaoticmoonave , @kkittycries , @dilfhos , @saintriots , @suyacho , @princess-okkotsu

#jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #yuuji itadori #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #itadori yuuji #yuji x reader #tw noncon #.kinktober 2023 #.ezra’s writing #.file } itadori #.file } sukuna

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ahhhwomen · 2 months

Text

I don’t know why I bite.

Vampire Empire

Part 1

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: We are going to ignore how long I disappeared, okay thank you. Also, y/n will not be in a proper relationship with the girls, she will very much be viewed and treated like a pet not a partner, but she will obvi still get the love.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death (later on)Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Your Master is a cruel woman, but you would never stand a chance against her, but what if they can?

Word Count: 3.5k

The keys jingle in a pattern.

With each step, the clash of metal calls out. It changes tune, depending on the day. If she’s tired, she drags her feet, it’s a slower melody. When she’s angry, there is a harshness to the smashing of the chain against her belt and a thud to her heavy boots.

You don’t know what her happy steps are, you think the sound would be smooth. Maybe, like she´s floating?

You wonder if you are ever going to hear it? If you are being honest with yourself, you don’t really know if you want to. At least her other behaviors are predictable, you can handle predictable, uncertainty however, that is an entirely different game. Not one you are very keen on playing.

Today, her steps boom like thunder, and her keys shriek like lighting.

Chills run down your spine; you press against the cold concrete wall. It scratches your skin. You press harder and cower closer.

You are shaking as she sweeps around the corner of your prison; she’s frowning today.

But…?

It hurts.

From yesterday. It still hurts.

She always gives you a day.

It still hurts.

You need a day.

It doesn't matter. You know you can’t stop it.

You close your eyes and submerge yourself in the void. You don’t like the dark, but she doesn't like it when you see.

Your cage opens with a shriek. You flinch as she touches your face, she is breathing down your neck and you feel yourself panic as she struggles with your collar.

It's never good when she takes away your collar.

Before you do something stupid, like fight back, a soothing voice guides you. It’s a whisper, that only you can hear. Drag in slow breaths, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Rinse and repeat. You do as they tell you.

You're in a sunflower field.

The heavy feeling in your stomach is from the big dinner you had, half an hour earlier.

The sun is setting, and you are smiling and laughing as you run through the field of flowers. They're ginormous, almost bigger than you. There is a weight to them as you push past. They scratch and irritate, but it's only temporary, so you keep laughing to yourself.

There is a whip to the wind, the sound loud and frightening. The flowers are louder, so you pretend not to hear. They rustle and dance in the harsh wind.

It's dark, but the yellow glow of plant life guides you. You don’t know where you are running to, maybe home, maybe the ocean. It matters not. You are happy, just you and the flowers.

When the wind calms and the sun peaks over the horizon you know it’s time to leave.

You trek through the soil and ignore the sharp stones that prick your pale skin, you wish you could stay, but it’s time to return.

You open your eyes when she leaves. She almost killed you today.

It's okay.

You deserved it.

Tomorrow, you rest.

Maybe.

Natasha smirks over the rim of her whisky glass. One would think the blonde would be professional after almost a century of doing business, yet she still stomps around like a child throwing a tantrum when she doesn't get it her way. The redhead almost feels bad for the poor pet that was going to be at the end of Carol's rath tonight, almost.

“Knock, knock.” Wanda stands in the doorway, her knuckles lightly tapping against the dark oak.

She’s dressed modern today. Her suit is fitted to perfection, it hugs her waist and expands her hips. She also went for a smokey makeup look, her eyeshadow a mix of dark brown and black, her lips a deep amber, just like her suit.

If attraction could kill Natasha would be one dead woman.

She smiles at her wife before signaling her in with a wave. She’s surprised to see Wanda, her wife comes by occasionally, and she has always dressed nicely, but this is new. Due to her desk stealing her view, Natasha can't see, but she can hear her wife's high heels as she passes through the threshold. Same color as the suit she imagines.

“What brings you here?” Natasha questions as she pours her wife a drink.

Wanda settles herself in the plush chair in front of her wife before bothering to answer. “Do I need a reason lovely? Maybe I just want to see my beautiful wife in her place of work.” Wanda grins while the other redhead hands her a glass of whiskey. Neat, just how she likes it.

Natasha scans her wife with suspicion, she wants something. She can tell by the way Wanda leans her body slightly to the left while her lips lift into a flirtatious half-smirk.

The shorter redhead lifts her eyebrow. “As nice as that may be, why are you really here?”

Wanda deflates slightly at her wife’s accusatory tone. She is right, of course, but Wanda was hoping she could butter her up a little before getting to that. Wanda will have to ask her out on a date soon and make herself a little less predictable.

She is ashamed to say it's been a while since their last dinner date, or movie night for that matter. However, it's hard to find the time when you have been married since the eighteen hundreds, and you both work more than any human would be capable of.

Which brings her to her point.

Wanda pulls in a breath, “I want a pet.”

Before Natasha can get a word in Wanda continues to ramble all in the same breath, “And I know, I know, we have already gone over this. But I'm lonely. The business has been slow since the Stark clan agreed to our peace offering. And while you are busy here, I want someone to come home too.” Wanda keeps her tone open and light.

She wasn’t here to accuse her wife of not giving her enough attention, they both knew that their different work would keep them apart, but while Wanda would spend long nights in her home office, Natasha would spend them in her company office on the other side of the city.

Natasha drums her fingers sharply against her desk, she wants to shut the idea down immediately.

Having a frail human pet would mean having a weakness. Natasha knows her wife well. She knows her wife will get attached, and she knows it will never end well for either of them.

On the other hand, she understands her wife's needs. Natasha spends most of her days in the office, working to uphold their cover, while Wanda spends her days all over the city settling their other business. Their schedules never align either, Natasha works days, Wanda nights. She has to admit, it doesn't sound half bad to have someone to come home to the few nights she can afford it.

Wanda is waiting with bated breath as her wife concludes.

“You have already set up the meet, haven’t you?”

Wanda gapes slightly but conceals it before her wife sees. She knows her too well indeed.

She slumps into her chair, “Yes.” She lifts her finger to stop Natasha from commenting, “In my defense, I was coming here to get your approval.” Natasha chuckles to herself.

“And if you didn’t get it your way?”

Wanda smiles bashfully, “Then I would go without you.” Natasha has to blink away tears from how hard she laughs, she is gripping her stomach, wheezing while answering, “I would expect nothing less my love.” She rights her posture and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. She glances at her wife hiding her blush behind luscious red locks.

She can never say no to her.

Clapping her hands together, she responds. “Fine, you win.”

Wanda practically shines with mirth and joy, “But,” her companion eyes her carefully, nodding to confirm she´s listening. “I get to pick the name that goes on her collar.”

The other redhead huffs, “Fine, but it better not be something stupid.”

Natasha shrugs and her wife leans over the table to slap her shoulder in warning. Natasha smiles all the same and shakes her head, “Yeah, yeah, nothing dumb.” As much fun as she is having with this, she is a busy woman.

She runs her hands down her black suit, thinks of what paperwork to finish, and mumbles a question about when they need to leave while sorting through the latest update about their progress on Project X. Wanda, without missing a beat, states a simple, “Now.”

Nat drops her pen and pinches the skin between her eyebrows. Wanda shrugs half apologetically as Natasha fixes her with a hard glare.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha grumbles a short, “Right, we better get going then.”

It's been almost a decade since she has set foot in one of these shitholes. Nothing has changed, the cages are just as small, and the odor stinks the same, alcohol, blood, and fear.

Wanda shifts uncomfortably as they wait for the salesman to get his spreadsheet, Natasha silently watches from the sideline as he sorts through a mess of paper and fast-food containers to find what he is looking for. She chastises Wanda for not finding a better establishment. Back in their time, this was the usual, but nowadays they have far better alternatives.

Wanda leans against Natasha to whisper, “It was the only place by a few miles Tash, and it’s the only place we have time for.” Natasha stays unimpressed. Wanda smirks at her wife and tucks a strand of loose hair behind the other redhead's ear before discreetly licking the shell of it and whispering sweetly, “I will make it up to you.” Natasha shivers under the attention and the salesman grunts a weak, “found it” before leading them into the main hall.

The ocean swishes in the background as you lie on your blue, shark-themed blanket in your modern bikini. The sun gleams over your head. Your skin stings and you shift onto your stomach, you must have forgotten sunscreen again.

Nonetheless, you purr under the shine of good weather; you wish you had taken a book with you. Maybe next time. For now, you stretch out and lay your bare arms against the warm sand. It will be stuck in every crevice, but it's nice.

A light breeze passes you.

You suck in a big breath, it burns, but you ignore it. It smells of salt and….. salt… and….?

Ice-cream.

It smells of salt and ice cream.

You think you may stay for a while today. You might visit tomorrow, but you would rather not.

If it doesn't burn too much, you hope to sleep tomorrow through. After all, if you are really lucky, you may not wake up again.

This place is even more depressing than Wanda had anticipated.

She and the other redhead had been to a similar place a few decades ago, but this was just sad. Not even the potent scent of blood can get her to ignore the uncomfortable sound of churning, empty, stomachs.

If they lived in a different city she would have taken her wife to a more humane operation, but with limited time comes limited opportunity.

The male and female sections are separate, in the left hall she can smell the odor of young men eager to please, while in this hall she can see the curious and smell the fearful. The gruff man showing them around had introduced them to a few pets by now, but she had to admit they were not what she was hoping for.

There had been one pet she took a slight liking to; a young woman, in her mid-twenties, she was in the puppy section, an enthusiastic little thing. But in the end, she was a little too pushy for Wanda’s liking, Natasha hadn’t seemed too keen either, so they left it there.

The kitten section wasn’t too bad, but every time she thought she was building a connection, Natasha would step into the pet's line of sight and they would cower away one by one. She knows her wife is putting on a stern face to test the poor little things, but it was starting to piss her off big time.

Wanda rolls her eyes as the feeble man struggles with yet another lock, she lifts her suit jacket and checks the expensive gold watch ticking away, fifteen more minutes or they will have to come back another time. Given that this was the only available time she and Nat had had in a few weeks the dire truth of not getting a pet today was settling in.

“Here she is, now she's not much to look at, but since you wanted to see them all,” the man shrugs and Wanda has half the mind to bite his head off. Before she can do anything of the sort Natasha takes her by surprise by stepping into the cage before her.

Nat ignores her wife as she steps into your cage, she has seen you before.

You were Carol's pet, or at least she thought you were. But it seems you were a less permanent part of the blonde’s life. Your cage was different, it was slightly bigger, the poorly dressed man had said something earlier about you being a leased pet.

You look horrible. She is studying you from a few feet away and she can still see the horrors you must have been through.

She knows Carol is violent, it's why she has spent so long trying to negotiate with blondie. Their clans were never on the same page and yes, threats were constantly made, but this was something else. Natasha would never think the pathetic woman would do this just because she could.

She hears Wanda step in and gasp at the sight of you.

You are lying on the hard floor with your back turned to them, a rag the size of a hand towel barely covering your bottom. Your hands are stretched out under the lamp, the only heat source you have, you have been beaten to a pulp. There are deep lacerations covering you, your entire body is one big bruise, and dried blood covers every crevice of both your skin and even part of the walls. But that was not what caught either of their attention, no, it was the lack of life they could sense from you.

Natasha kneels a few feet away from you and studies you carefully. Her hand rests against her cheek as she tries to focus on your heartbeat. It beats, but there was something off about it. It's slow like you are asleep, but she can hear in your breathing that you are still conscious.

She tilts her head and talks off-handedly at the man behind her.

“Is she sick?” She hears him scoff but ignores it in favor of closing her eyes and trying to feel you.

“Of course not-“ He waves his hand, “all that,” he gestures at your body, “was her own fault.”

Before Natasha has time to reprimand the pig, she hears a crunch behind her followed by a heavy thud.

She huffs and raises herself slowly before opening her eyes and looking at her wife with her peripheral vision. “I thought we agreed to not kill anyone today.”

Wanda stares at her with empty eyes. “No. We agreed on not killing any innocent people tonight. As far as I am concerned, I am just following his logic, after all this was all his fault.” Wanda gestures at the dead man's body.

Natasha turns to her wife while rolling her eyes.

Wanda ignores her wife's sass and looks past her to take you in once more. “Who is she?”

Natasha shrugs and gazes at you over her shoulder. “She was Carol´s plaything, but I guess Carol never owned her like I thought.” Wanda raised her eyebrows in surprise and stared at Nat, “That’s y/n?”. Her eyes move down to you again, “last time I saw her she sure as hell didn’t look like that.”

Natasha nods and crosses her arms in thought, “well it seems Carol is an even worse owner than she is a negotiator.”

The last time Wanda had seen you was when she joined one of Natasha’s meetings a few months ago, you were a new thing back then. You had scars, but they were pink and healed, you were a skittish little thing, but you ate, you had some color to you, and you sure as hell didn’t feel like this.

You could feel their eyes all over your body. You hated it, you never liked it when people looked too hard or thought too long, it always meant the same thing. They were assessing whether or not you are a feasible option as a pet. You know you aren’t, you know they will scoff and turn their backs to you as if you disgust them, like you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.

You get it though, they are probably right.

Usually, such a thing wouldn’t bother you, you are used to it by now, but there was something about their scents that put you off, you felt out of place even more than usual, and you hated it.

You were too focused on pretending to be asleep to assess what the heavy thud against the concrete could have been.

Whatever it was, must have had something breakable inside of it as you could hear a clear crack as something bounced off the floor. You decided you didn’t care, you only cared about the sudden voice that took over all the space of your enclosure. Powerful enough to command any and every room, you know this voice. It belongs to one Natasha Romanoff, and suddenly the voice behind her made sense too. You had only seen the redhead once, but you would remember her anywhere, just as commanding as her wife, and even more scary, Wanda Maximoff.

If you weren’t scared before, you were positively shitting your nonexistent pants now.

You try to keep your breathing even so as to not show any hint of awareness, you have no idea what they could be doing here. Had Master sent them? Were these the last moments you would have, were you going to die in this tiny, claustrophobic hellhole?

You were panicking, and you know they can sense it. Feel it. No matter how many times Master called you such, you weren’t an idiot. You know what they are, you know what they can do, what they will do.

As you hear one of them take a step closer you turn into a stiff board. You stay completely still as you feel your lungs start resisting the air you desperately try to force into them, you have this sudden need to flee or to bear your neck and beg for them to finish it quickly. Right after the thought passes your mind you shrink in shame, Master will kill you for ever thinking of bearing your neck to another.

You can hear them pause for a moment as you feel their eyes on you again. You have been made.

You don’t know what comes over you, you don’t know where you suddenly find the strength, but before you even know what you are doing you are leaping towards the women, your hands ready to claw out their eyes if need be.

You know they are stronger, faster, and smarter than you could ever wish to be, but this is a survival instinct, nothing makes sense, nothing matters. And as you collide into a warm body and start ripping into it, to the best of your ability, you realize, you have no idea what you are doing.

Natasha knew what you were about to do, possibly before you, and as you crashed into her and started scratching and ripping at anything you could get your hands on, she realized that maybe you still have a chance at this life. For the first time during their little visit, she can feel something in you, it’s small, scared, abused, but there is a will there, a will to live, a will to fight. That is more than most in this bleak city.

She holds you gently as you rip apart her coat, tear at her skin, and bite her hands. She hears Wanda take an uncertain step toward the both of you, unsure of what to do. But Natasha waves her hands nonchalantly and asks Wanda with a calm voice to stay back.

Natasha understands that to her wife you must look positively rabid. You were in the kitten class, but you were fighting Natasha as if you were a fighter dog. All teeth and claws. However, compared to Natasha, you might as well have been a mite.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t pierce her skin, can’t topple her balance, you can’t win.

Your fingers dig into the soft skin, your nails gripping and tearing, but nothing happens. There is no skin underneath your nails, no blood, no sight of damage against pale skin. You bite the hands that hold you, and you can hear your jaw creek as you strain your weak body, but the skin doesn't break, the only blood you taste is your own.

You are scared, you don’t know what to do, there is no sunflower field to hide behind, no sea to drown in, you feel powerless, even more so than she makes you feel.

You don’t know what they want, you don’t want to die like this.

Even after all your effort goes to waste you can’t give up, you have to keep trying, you have to-

“Stop.”

Wanda looks at you with an unreadable expression, you look up in terror as you realize you can’t move your body. One simple word, in one simple tone, has made you paralyzed.

#dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #vampire!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader

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nsharks · 5 months

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part fifteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.7k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Pearly sunlight weaves through the trees, casting freckles across the calm current of the creak. Somewhere, a raven bleats loudly, but your ears block out the sound. The skin between your brows wrinkles with concentration as you tightly grip the wooden makeshift spear, its carved point hovering just above the water.

Numerous fish writhe below you, and your eyes dart between them studiously before finally settling on the meatiest one. With a quick stab, your spear pierces the water's surface, but all it hits is the mucky bottom of the creak. The fish startles with a splash and swims off downstream.

"Fuck me," you huff, standing up from your squatting position on the rock to soothe the growing ache in your thighs.

Fishing shouldn't be much different than hunting, yet, it's been hours and all you have to show for it is a small chub the size of your palm. With a sigh, you decide your craving for fish isn't worth all this effort and leap off the rock, carrying your measly catch in one hand and spear in the other. Maybe the still waters of the pond could be an easier spot to try someday.

You chose the creak over the pond because it's a greater distance from camp. The longer walk allows you to fixate on the emerald green leaves fluttering in the breeze and the soft chatter of swallows that are returning after their winter migration. Everything is starting to turn into Blue's favorite color. For the first time, you departed the cabin without a jacket, opting for only the long-sleeve tee from Ghost. You had the sleeves rolled to your elbows while fishing, but as you trek back through the wild grasses, you push them down and allow the fabric to brush your knuckles.

There are hardly any flowers left on the Pink Sorrel after all your foraging. It's a shame they taste so good because the petals are a beautiful fuschia. Arriving at camp, you amble over the plucked stems, bound across the trench with ease, and spot Blue on the other side of the gate offering Grim a wad of grass.

The moment you returned yesterday, she had asked how training with Ghost went. That was quick, she'd observed. Weasling past the rules of your friendship, you gave her a half-lie: He went easy on me this first time. She didn't seem fully convinced that Ghost and 'going easy' belonged in the same sentence together.

"Hey," you greet. "Open the gate for me?"

Grim is given a pet across his back before she leaps up to undo the locks.

“Hey. How’d it go?” She looks at your near-empty hand. "Fucking noodles. That's it? I thought there were lots of fish there."

"There are. I just suck at catching them."

She gives you an apologetic smile. "Oh— Ghost was looking for you, by the way."

It takes you a moment to respond. "He was?"

"Not sure what for." Her brows furrow. "I'm also not sure where he went. He was here, and then—" Her blue eyes glimmer like water in the sunlight as they shift to something in the distance. "Oh, there he is."

The very person you'd spent hours of alone time trying not to think about arrives as a shadow, lugging what appears to be—you squint—a fucking corpse behind him. Upon closer inspection, it is certainly a body, and with how wonky the limbs look as they drag against the ground, it must be a Grey. That's a little more reassuring, and a lot less bothersome, than if it were a human corpse.

He drops the corpse in front of the trench, rubs his gloved hands together, and then passes through the parted gate.

"Is that what you wanted Twix for?" Blue asks, nodding to the Grey.

Ghost explains himself in an even more gruff baritone than usual. "Knew I smelled something." He speaks at you. "I wanted you to check south while I checked north."

"Oh. Sorry," you say lamely and hold up the small chub. "I was, uh, fishing. Looks like you found the source, though. Just one?"

He nods. "Only found one. Could be others so we'll keep an eye out."

"Why did you bring it here?" you ask curiously.

Blue is the one to answer. "To burn it. Sometimes it seems like they attract each other, haven't you noticed?"

"Right," you grimace. "Blood and rot. Their favorites."

Setting down the catch and spear, you help Ghost gather some wood from the modest pyramid stacked beside the cabin. He nudges the Grey with a booted foot, making it tumble limply into the trench. Starting the fire in there should keep the flames contained.

As you silently place the wood and some kindling over the carcass, your mind is in two places at once. With Ghost right next to you, it's impossible to not think about yesterday; how it felt to be grabbed by him, how he questioned you again about the ammo trip, and how you can't help but detest the thought of him looking at you in pity like he once he did.

You also think about how much you fucking hate Greys. Christ, they are disgusting. Your fingers accidentally brush against the paper-thin skin that hangs off the bones and a shudder travels up your spine.

Ghost starts the fire with a match and the two of you watch the flames catch, quietly at first— then, they roar through the corpse, quickly turning it black. Bitter smoke intermingles with the crisp spring air and the smell has you coughing into your arm.

Blue has taken it upon herself to avoid the fire, making an audible gagging sound before scooping up Grim. In her absence, you shift from foot to foot, stealing a glance at Ghost. He watches the ash build up and the flames tamper down in mild interest.

Your fingers curl up into balls, fisting the excess fabric. "Are you worried about more?" you ask him.

It's the first thing you've said to him - actually said to him - since cutting your training short. He loosens a breath and slightly shrugs his broad shoulders. "No. I told you. We never see more than a few at a time." You weren't worried, but if you were, his dismissal of the subject would reassure you. "You should be careful until I finish your bow, though. Unless you're good at throwing knives."

"I'm not," you almost snort, voice no louder than it needs to be. "But Blue is quite good at it. She's been killing squirrels for me."

He hums his response, a low sound that gets lost in the crackle of embers, and you wonder if that's him showing a lack of interest in this kind of conversation with you. With a deep inhale, you change the subject to one you can't ignore.

"Ghost— I want to apologize," you turn to face him, straightening your shoulders. "I wasted your time yesterday. It won't happen again. If we could... give it another try, I would like that."

The smoke is starting to fade. Ghost breaks his gaze from it to study you. You try not to shrink away, wondering what he's thinking. If he feels pity, it's impossible to detect in the dark irises set behind his mask, though, you've never been able to find much of anything in them.

"You didn't waste my time, Twix. I have an interest in your capabilities."

"What?"

"If you're going to be staying here," he elaborates, "—then your strength is of value to me. I'd like to know that if I ask you to do something, you can do it. That if shit happens again, I can rely on you."

"You can," you breathe out. "I am... capable."

"You are," he agrees, looking away. "You're good with a bow. You think quick. But you're still weak, and you doubt yourself." The blunt comments make your brows lower, but you can't help but feel satisfied with the glimpses of approval. "Yesterday was my fault. You weren't ready for it and I should've known that."

"I am ready," you protest, lips parting as you shake your head. "Let me try again. I don't want to be coddled."

"I'm not going to coddle you," he replies in a firm drawl. "I want you stronger first. Let's start there."

“Okay.”

A hand.

There's a hand on your shoulder, heavy and firm, offering a slight shake. With a gasp, your eyes fly open to darkness, only the white of a skull visible above you, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight.

"What the hell?" are the first words you sputter, voice harsh and raw from sleep. You grip your throat to clear it.

He scans your face. "Get up. Come on."

"What? What... what fucking time is it?"

"Almost dawn. Let's go."

It takes a few deep breaths to calm the rush of adrenaline ignited by his abrupt wake-up call. Go where? you think to ask, but instead, you slick a hand through your hair, warily rubbing your eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

Somehow you end up outside, wading through the sprawled-out fog as you follow behind his silhouette, the morning so early and quiet that it would've felt like a dream if not for your crunching footsteps. You braid your into a single, tight braid along the way. With such shitty sleep, you're too out of it to even scowl at his backside, wondering how getting up at this hour will in any way make you stronger.

The answer is in the two axes he carries and the towering oak tree he stops in front of, your eyes climbing up the height of it before landing back down on Ghost. Your hands are forced out of your coat pockets when an axe is offered to you, fingers curling around the handle and abs tightening from the surprising weight of it.

Confusion rolls around in your gut. Slowly, you ask, "Um. You... want me to cut this thing down?"

"We need more wood after yesterday." He inclines his head and gives a tap of his own axe to the thick trunk. "Good size for you to start with."

"It's huge," you mutter under your breath. "Why do we have to do this so early?"

If there's any reasoning to it at all, he doesn't bother sharing. Rather, he stalks over to another tree about ten meters away. The calm air is soon shattered by the rough sound of metal biting wood as he starts effortlessly cutting the trunk. A large part of you considers dropping the axe and leaving without a word, but you ignore it.

"Alright then," you whisper to yourself.

It's not the first time you've chopped down a tree. You used to help Paul with it, and truthfully, you're surprised Ghost has never asked you to do chores like this sooner. It's certainly bigger than the skinny, young trees you used to go for, evident in how little of a dent you make with the first swing.

Either you're as weak as Ghost claims, or this axe of his is heavier than the one Paul had because your biceps feel strained by the third hit.

"Have you never done this before?"

The voice at your back nearly makes you drop the axe. Whirling around, you face the colossal presence of him and wonder how you didn't notice it sooner.

"I have." You rest the thick blade on the ground, grumbling. "Do you have a thing for sneaking up on people?"

"Be more aware of your surroundings." His tone teeters towards admonishing, and he looks you over before ticking up a brow. "And fix your stance before you throw your bloody back out."

He nudges the toe of his boot against yours, forcing you to spread your feet further apart. Your lips roll together as he grunts in approval. "Try again now."

When he takes a step back, you face the tree again, bending your elbows before extending them sharply. The blade cuts deeper this time, if only by a little.

"You're focusing too much on your arms," he remarks behind your shoulder.

Your eyebrow twitches. "I'm... I'm holding the axe with my arms. Why would I not focus on them?"

"When you're shooting arrows, what muscles do you use the most?"

Thinking back to those lessons from Paul, you answer almost immediately. "My back." It's always the part that gets most sore. "And my... my shoulders, I guess."

"Focus more on those."

His advice helps. The next swing deals considerable damage to the bark. You turn to see his response, but he's already gone back to his tree.

The next few days involve so much chopping and sawing that you think you might be starting to hate wood and all of its forms. After the trees are down, you have to cut them into sizeable logs. The back-and-forth motion leaves your arm numb. You quickly realize why Ghost is making you get up early for this work— once the sun is out, it becomes miserable, cold sweat cascading down your back and temples.

Blue decides this is not the kind of training she's interested in watching. You don't see much of her except during dinner where she offers to cook the squirrels she's caught for you. You don't object. You pick the meat apart down to the needly bones, wiggle your sore toes of their confinements, and knock out earlier than either of them. Fatigue goes back to claiming you swift and heavy, like a current that pulls you down, down, down. The dreams sit behind a dark wall, blocked for now.

It goes on like this for a whole week, and somewhere along the way, you stop hating it. The grunts that leave your mouth are laced with exertion and focus. Your arms don't hurt as much. You split the logs apart as your mind fills with thoughts of everything you hate. Greys. Death. Pity. You imagine breaking all those things into a hundred, rotten pieces. It feels... good.

One morning, you awaken to sunlight already bleeding through the plywood, and confusion sits you up. You look around, wondering why Ghost didn't get you up sooner, only to find Blue lying belly-down on the raggedy rug, flipping through one of her new magazines.

"Where's Ghost?"

"Good morning to you, too," she sings. Her chin inclines from where it rests in her palm. "I decided you need a different kind of training today. He's setting it up."

"You... you decided that, huh?"

She hums. "I made you breakfast. Go eat." She waves her hand. "I'm sure he'll be done soon."

You have no idea what she's talking about, but your stomach guides you to the cooked meat calling your name. She points out things in the magazine, like old celebrities and ridiculous perfume ads, cute boys and yummy sweets she wishes she could try; you nod along as you eat.

When he returns, she perks up. Practically tugs on your arm. You have to remind her that you're still barefoot. She impatiently groans the entire time you are lacing up your boots, taking your sweet time on purpose.

The pond is where she leads you. That place where you first saw her.

Except today, there is a thin log stretched across one end to the other. A bridge.

"We have got to work on your balance, my student," Blue announces, hands on her hips. A gentle, warm breeze tousles her hair and she swipes it from her face. "We can't have a repeat of you-know-what."

Your brows shoot up and a chuff of breath leaves your nose. "Are you trying to say I have no sense of balance?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Come on, now."

You almost forgot Ghost followed the two of you out here until he sits on a tree stump with his carving knife and the bow he's making. He's been working on it for a few hours every day. Today, when you steal a glance as Blue clasps your hand and leads you to the homemade bridge, it almost looks like a bow, finally taking on a curved shape. You can't see much of it, though, because soon you are being instructed to cross the log.

"Without falling," Blue adds.

"Easy," you tease, shrugging.

"Prove it."

The log is about the width of the metal beam, but much shorter. You cross over it, arms outstretched at your sides and boots hovering a few feet above glistening water that is teeming with fish. When you step down on the other side, you shoot Blue a grin.

She rubs her chin. "Not bad, not bad. Again."

You do it again with ease, even though your muscles are still stiff from your morning workouts.

"Okay, this time, we're going to make it more realistic."

By realistic, she means baring her teeth in a growl and sticking her arms out like a Grey. All of a sudden, you are being chased across the log, Blue running behind you. Explicatives leave your lips until your boot misses a step and you fall into the water. This time, the shallow pond offers a comfortable temperature that doesn't send your body into panic mode. You break the surface, able to stand up on the rocky bottom, and throw your wet hair out of your face as laughter bubbles up your throat on its own accord.

You look up at Blue, playfully glaring. She smirks.

"Come here, Grey," you say.

You grab her by the ankle and pull her down into the water with you. She gasps and giggles, thrashing around in her soaked clothes as you splash water in her face.

"Or," you taunt, "Should I say Amelia?"

Her eyes widen. "How did you—"

Then, she's leaping at you, pushing your head under the water. "Don't ever call me that."

"Or what?" You tease and swim away, scaly fish brushing against your ankles as the wide legs of your jeans ride up. "You'll kill me?"

"Might have to!"

You're not sure how long the two of you swim in there. Minutes. Maybe an hour. Until your fingertips are pruney like how they used to get when you used to swim in the pool with your sister.

You hoist yourself out of the pond and sit by the water's edge, drenched shirt clinging to your breasts uncomfortably, but you don't care. You've felt far more uncomfortable things. The buttery sunlight kisses your exposed cheeks as you wring out your hair, Blue sitting beside you to do the same thing.

She peels off her wet jeans, probably uncomfortable in them. You would do the same if you were eleven and didn't care. On her thigh, the thick scar from her bullet wound blemishes the soft, pale skin.

"I'm a better teacher than Ghost, huh?" she says.

"So far," you nod, glancing at him. When you do, his eyes meet yours across the short distance. Only for a second. Before they flicker back down to the bow.

"He hates swimming, you know."

You look at her. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. He never really goes in with me." She shrugs and buries her fingers in the grass. "Hey. Look. There are those violets I told you about."

You follow the direction of her eyes and sure enough, a patch of wild violets decorate the ground, gently bent in the breeze. As your clothes dry, the two of you pluck them. They are beautiful. Dark purple petals. You braid them into her hair. She tries to do the same for you, but her braiding skills need some work. It's a nice break from the past week you've had, your sore limbs sprawled against the grass to dry.

It's when the sun starts to lower that Blue puts her jeans back on. Your clothes are still wet, and the wind is starting to pick up, spreading gooseflesh across your skin.

"Here."

The familiar low voice announces his presence. Tucking your wet hair behind your ears, you look up at Ghost. The two of you haven't exchanged many words except for his occasional correction of your form while cutting wood.

He stands against the sun. You take the finished bow from him in quiet awe. It's even nicer up close, the smoothed oak caressing your palms as you glide them up and down the length of this new weapon. The first one he gave you was made for a child, but this one is larger, the perfect size for you. Your index finger gives a pluck to the string, feeling the hum of vibrations. He must have just added that.

"Thank you," you tell him honestly. Whatever uncertainty or irritation you might feel about him doesn't change the swell of gratitude you feel in this moment. It’s a tangible thing that sits in your chest. “It's... great, really."

"Might take some getting used to,” he says gruffly.

You shrug. "That's alright."

You glance to your left where Blue is still changing. With a swallow, you hold the bow tight to your chest. "Do you think I'm ready to try more tomorrow? Not just the wood. I feel like... I feel like I've been getting stronger from it already."

He gives a short nod. "Tomorrow, then."

#simon ghost riley x you #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction

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dustykneed · 27 days

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fem or not, spock totally has a thing for jim being casually buff as hell. ("It is merely logical to desire a capable mate.") bones calls bullshit.

(that's because bones knows from personal experience ;))

but also i'm curious lmao.

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arachine · 1 year

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. . . 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

— pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

general tags: college! au, established relationship, fluff, suggestive

content warnings: period cramps, reader is a baby, ellie is patient, kissing, allusions to sex, brief mention of dealer!ellie + not proofread and also not my best work bc i was in pain !

note: this is super self-indulgent bc i am, unfortunately, on my monthly, and so, i am making it everyone’s problem >.<

ellie’s annoyed. actually, she’s concerned—maybe, slightly, kind of more than that too, but right now, she’s annoyed. this wasn’t like you—not answering messages, not answering calls.

she’d understand it if you were busy, especially since finals season was steadily approaching as the days passed, but she knew you didn’t have any plans today. that much was confirmed the last time she’d spoken to you, which was, if she could recall (she could recall it perfectly), last night at 8:00 p.m.

future wife 👰‍♀️: gn baby, see you tomorrow for breakfast! get some sleep ok? <33

ellie: alr goodnight baby. i’ll come get you at 9 ok? don’t oversleep this time, wanna get some french toast before all the athletes take it :/

future wife 👰‍♀️: never gonna let me live it down, huh?

ellie: never!

future wife 👰‍♀️: god alr, i won’t oversleep!!! promise :3 now gn fr this time!!! gts!!!

ellie: ok bossy i’m going to sleep 🫡 love you

that was the last message she’d sent to you that night. this morning, however, she made an effort to send you a slew of follow-up texts before making her way over to your dorm:

ellie: good morning sexy, you up?

ellie: it’s french toast time ☝🏻

ellie: don’t tell me you’re sleeping…

there was five minutes sent in-between each message, and yet, still no response. that’s when she got the bright idea to call.

“alright, this should wake her up,” she raised the phone to her ear, pacing around her apartment while waiting for the line to go through. to her dismay, it rung a few times before going straight to voicemail—to which she almost got excited over because you’ve got one of those annoying ass voicemails that sound like someone picked up the line.

“hey […], this is (name). sorry you can’t reach me right now, but leave a message and i’ll get back to you as soon as i c—”

“fucking hell.” ellie pinches the knot between her brows and sighs, ending the call before voicemail you can finish your sentence. again, she calls, thinking this time you’ll answer, but to no avail. it goes right to voicemail.

“the fuck…” she doesn’t even bother leaving a message. beelines right to her closet and grabs her sneaks, a hoodie, and her wallet, then heads out of her apartment building and begins the trek to your dormitory.

when she gets there, she buzzes in with her student keycard, and pads right up to the security desk. just as she’s about to open her mouth, one of the guards sitting interrupts her.

“can i see your proof of residence, please?” he says blankly, raising a fig bar up to his mouth.

“randy, really? you know me, i’m here almost every other day—just without my girlfriend—who i’m actually here to see,” she raises a finger, forearms leaning forward over the desk. randy feigns indifference, and opts to stuff the last of his bar in his mouth.

“you’re not a resident here, ellie. sorry, but you know the rules.”

“how about you shove the rules up your a—actually, that’s alright. my buddy right here will sign me in as a guest.” she grins devilishly at the dark haired man across the lobby, blinking once, twice, before flashing him a smile.

“jesse! my life saver, my best-friend, my messiah, my—“

“what do you want, ellie?” he rolls his eyes, pulling out his student keycard to flash randy. ellie purses her lips as if she’s been found out, then pulls jesse aside by the cloth of his jacket. she leans in real close so that what she says is out of earshot.

“sign me in as a guest and i’ll give you free weed during your next visit,” she bargains, wiggling her brows like she knows the offer is too good to pass up. jesse doesn’t answer her right away. instead, opts to tease her. puts his index finger on his chin, and opens his stance as if he’s really mulling it over. ellie’s not impressed.

a beat, then, he shrugs, mumbling a quick ‘better keep your word williams’.

ellie grins, something real big and cheshire-like, because she knows him. who’d be stupid enough to pass up free weed? exactly, no one. especially not a stressed college student, that’s for sure.

“thanks man, you’re really doing me a solid, you know,” she pats his back, to which he mutters a knowing ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’. she watches intently as he signs her in under his name, then makes a face at randy when she hands over her student keycard for him to keep.

“see ya later rand’!” the auburn haired girl says with the flick of a hand, turning the corner of the desk to get to the elevators.

“yeah, whatever.”

. . .

once the elevator comes to a halt on your floor, ellie gives jesse a final thank you before departing. as she walks down the winding hallway, she can’t help but to think the worst. what if you were unconscious? what if you’d been axe-murdered? what if you’d been kidnapped? all very unlikely, she knows, but not impossible.

when her mind sifts through a few more frightening scenarios, she realizes she’s already made it to your door. should she knock? she feels like she should knock, but then she figures if all her previous attempts to wake you up were unsuccessful, then who’s to say a few measly knocks would do the trick?

she decides against it. instead, she unhooks her carabiner from her jeans and fiddles around with her set of keys until she finds the spare you’d given her. until now, she’d never used it. the day you’d given it to her, you’d told her it was strictly for ‘emergencies’, and what better time to use it than now? this was surely an emergency, right?

the door unlocks and she immediately goes to twist the knob, pushes the door open and then shuts it closed behind her.

“babe, you here?” she calls out, walking through the kitchen, “you alive?” turns down the hall, “you in one piece?”

a beat. silence—save for the heavy padding of her boots as she makes her way towards your bedroom. the door is cracked open, just by a sliver, but she can see—or at least somewhat make out—the beginnings of a sleeping silhouette.

she pushes the door open and ambles to your bedside. you were fast asleep. curled up into a tight little ball with the duvet pulled up to your chin, and a mean little pout on your lips. it was adorable, and it made ellie’s heart twang with relief. at least now that she was able to verify your safety, she could forget all those terrible thoughts that she was getting herself all worked up over.

“hey, sweet girl,” she cooed, brushing the pad of her thumb over your cheek. your brows cinched in response, but you didn’t move. not even an inch. “baby,” ellie drawled in a sing-song voice.

she let her hand fall from your cheek to your back, and she rubbed it in slow, steady circles in an attempt to rouse you. after a while of this—a combination of her rubbing and cooing—you started to react.

“mmm,” you groaned, curling your knees up higher, “it hurts.”

“what hurts? what’s wrong?” opening your eyes, you were able to pair the voice of concern with a familiar face.

“ellie? what are you doing here?”

she lets a small chuckle escape her lips, then raises a hand to rest atop your head.

“what am i doing here? what are you doing here? had me worried sick about you,” she smooths a hand over your head, “missed our breakfast date.”

sighing, you slap a clammy hand over your head, then reach over ellie to grab your phone from the nightstand.

ten messages. three missed calls.

“god, i’m sorry, bellie. took some midol and melatonin last night so that i could beat these cramps, but i guess they worked a little too good, huh?”

“yeah, you nut.” she takes a glance at your nightstand and picks up the bottle of pills, shakes them around before settling them back down. “how many did you take?”

“just two…maybe three?” ellie’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“three? babe, these are 500 mg. why would you do that? the bottle says take two every six hours, and here you are taking more than the recommended amount, on top of taking melatonin,” she chides, though, it’s more out of genuine concern than it is her actually being upset.

you laugh at your own expense, but it’s short-lived because a second later, you’re clutching for your belly and writhing in pain.

ellie sighs, kicks her boots off and fully climbs up onto the bed and under the covers. once she settles into a comfortable position, she pulls you into her side.

“i know, baby, let me take care of you,” she strokes your back soothingly, “but next time, please don’t take that much. were you planning on sleeping forever?”

“maybe.” you jest, snuggling further into her warmth. admittedly, mixing both of those drugs was kind of stupid—maybe really stupid, but in your defense, you were in pain!—and really desperate. when you have cramps this bad, sometimes death sounds like mercy.

“oh, yeah?” the laugh she lets out is a deep rumble, and you can feel the vibrations of it as you lay on her chest. it’s soothing. a remedy that you should’ve utilized sooner, and you would’ve, had you been in the right headspace.

“mhm…” you purr, looking up at her, at her lips. ellie scans your face for pain, then dips down and pilfers a kiss from your lips. it’s slow, and sweet, and ends far too soon for your liking. before she can pull away, you tug her by the collar of her shirt. look up at her with pleading eyes, and fist it tighter between your knuckles.

“more,” you drawl, pulling her back down to meet your lips. she indulges you, because of course she does, and pushes you onto your back.

“thought,” a kiss, “your,” another, “cramps were bothering you?” she queries, breathless as she holds herself up above your sprawled out body. she thumbs with the hem of your shirt, waits expectantly for you to answer.

“they are,” you say, “so why don’t you make ‘em go away?”

and what kind of girlfriend would she be if did otherwise?

#:: — LEXI WRITES !#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie william x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Note

Hello to one of my favorite writers! I saw requests are open. If I may request one in the mafia au with Steve x reader x Bucky. I'm currently sick and clumsy so I have a broken wrist on top of it. Could I request the boys taking care of sick or clumsy reader please? Fluff and sexy times with them melt my heart!

No Touching // Mafia!Stucky x fem!reader

A/N: thank you so much for the request (and the compliment ღ). I hope you are feeling better soon! x

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, fluff, smut, hurt/comfort, injured reader, anxiety, dom/sub, size kink, size difference, sir kink, daddy kink, hint of subspace, edging, oral sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise kink, begging, pet names

Words: 6666

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“Are you sure you have to go in today?” you asked in a hopeful tone, following Bucky around your home, almost like a lost puppy as he and Steve prepared to leave for work.

“Sorry Doll, but you know it's shipment day and if anything goes wrong, Fury will be on our asses and that’s not a sight I particularly want to see”, Bucky joked, leaning down to peck your lips before walking past to stand by the front door, easing each glove onto his hands.

Your shoulders sagged, resorting to childish tactics by sticking out your bottom lip but that only caused Bucky to chuckle and continue to get ready to leave. “Are you sure both of you need to go? I’m sure they could survive this one time without one of you there”.

“I don’t want Fury on my ass either”, Steve quipped, as he descended the stairs, kissing your cheek as he passed, pulling on his own leather jacket and zipping it up. Glancing between both of your boyfriends, you decided to do your next tactic, tiptoeing over to Bucky as he waited for Steve to finish getting ready.

From only your expression, he knew you were up to something, particularly as you raised further on your toes, hands on his shoulders to kiss him gently on the lips, breathing in the faint scent of his aftershave mixed with his leather jacket. “You know… I think Steve’s just saying you can’t do the job by yourself Buckaroo”, you tease with a sly smile, eyes flicking between his crystal blue eyes.

Bucky laughed, his gloved hands cupping your cheeks tenderly, muttering against your lips, “nice try hot mama, but we are both still going”. He released his hold as you sighed in defeat, leaning into his chest as the brunette kissed your temple.

“Just please be careful and drive slowly, the snow from last night is starting to turn into ice and if anything happens I will personally trek through this winter storm and-”.

Any further threat was cut off as another warm body slide behind you, two hands gripping your hips, swiftly turning you on the spot and distracting you with soft lips which you melted into instantly. You could have stayed like that for the rest of the day but Steve pulled back first, amused at your flushed expression as he stroked a finger down your cheek.

“We’ll be careful, I promise”, Steve reassured, standing to his full height, passing the car keys to Bucky over your shoulder.

Bucky had a different reaction to your threats however as he whispered, “such a mother hen” into your ear, briskly kissing your cheek and opening the front door causing a shock of icy wind to brush over your skin. Turning, you leaned against the door, watching both men walking towards the car but Steve had one more reminder for you.

“You know that your little threat goes both ways. No leaving the house - or at least if you do, ask one of the guards out front to come with you just so you have someone to hold onto”.

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean? My feet are very sturdy thank you” you glanced down at your sock-covered feet.

Both Steve and Bucky seemed to disagree with the deadpan expressions they both held as they looked at you, still not getting into the car. Bucky was the first to remind you, “you do remember a couple of months back-”

“Yes ok, one time I tripped over and scrapped my knee but that doesn’t make me a liability”.

“Did you also forget about the time in Montana-?”

“Fine there’s been more than a couple of times, but your lack of faith in me is really shocking boys”, you teased, not being able to hide the smile spreading across your face.

“We have all the faith in you baby” Steve agreed with his own smile, finally getting into the car.

“Yes, all the faith to fall over so please don’t leave the house!” Bucky shouted cheekily as he too climbed into the car, only to receive a playful shove from Steve as he started the car. Giving them one last wave before shutting the door and shivering, trying to feel any warmth.

Having the Rogers mafia leader and the second-in-command as your boyfriends did mean you led a very protected life which sometimes could be frustrating by rarely being alone. However, for the topic of today, you were fine with playing along with their requests, not wanting to be out in the cold at all.

For the next half an hour, you watched the car's location on your phone closely which was one of the perks of being with overprotective boyfriends. They wanted your location which means you could have theirs so could watch as they had arrived safely at the warehouse and then were swiftly followed up by a text from Bucky reiterating that they had arrived safely.

This meant you could relax for the day, put your feet up and not have a worry in the world. However, this was not how it proceeded as it was spent finishing the menial chores such as responding to emails, washing clothes and cleaning the house. It was also a nice distraction to keep busy, even though there were no potentially dangerous meetings, anything involving the gang could go wrong so instead of sitting and worrying, you liked to stay busy.

As the sun began to set and the evening rolled around, you decided to cook some chilli, something that could easily be left to simmer or reheated for when the boys returned. As you left the pot on the stovetop, you casually began emptying the trash bag, tying it up and walking towards the back door.

The frozen backyard was enough to have you standing and contemplating your next steps. The bin was only a few steps outside, and you’d only be outside for 30 seconds, it wasn’t like going for an actual walk and there was no way you’d call a guard to walk you to the trash bin.

This was the deciding factor for you, moving to find your trainers, not needing a coat as you were only going to be in and out quickly. Of course, however, the boys seemed to have a sixth sense as your phone began to ring and a picture of Bucky graced your screen.

“Hey Buckaroo,” you answered, smiling as you held the phone to your ear.

“Hello beautiful”, he answered, and you could almost hear his smile.

“Did everything go ok?” as you spoke, you multitasked by pulling your trainer onto your foot, and balancing the phone against your shoulder.

“Yeah, everything went peachy surprisingly. I was just calling to say we’re heading home soon”.

“Good! Please be careful driving, I think it’s snowed a little more since you left earlier - oh and I have some food ready for you both”.

“God I love you” he praised making you grin giddily.

“If I knew it was this easy to please you, I would cook more often” you responded, easing your other foot into the trainer.

“Oh trust me, mama, you please me in lots of different ways, especially when you flick your tongue right over-”

“Bucky! I know for a fact you’re surrounded by other people, can you not!” your whole body warmed at Bucky’s words.

Your boyfriend chuckled deeply down the phone, “trust me, it’s nothing they haven’t heard or seen before”. He had a very good point, but this wasn’t the point you were trying to make.

“Just- I-, I’ll see you later Bucky, drive safe please,” you tried to move on from the smutty talk and hang up.

But Bucky quickly asked, “what are you doing?” From his tone of voice, he had his suspicions, almost like he could see that your hand was on the back door’s lock.

“Cooking”.

“So you’ve not been outside?”

“No, I’ve been good and stayed in” you responded far too quickly, glancing around the kitchen area for any cameras that you definitely knew weren’t there.

“I’m shocked I thought you would have been outside just to prove a point”.

You tried to laugh convincingly, “your lack of faith in me is really starting to become offensive, Barnes”.

“Yeah well, I’m sure I’ll make it up to you with my own little tongue trick-”

“Alright I’m hanging up now! Have a safe drive both of you, love you”. Quickly you hung up to the sounds of Bucky laughing loudly. Damn that man and his wicked words because now not only were your cheeks warm but in between your legs were dampening.

Shaking your body, you tried to continue with your task of taking out the trash, the back door opened wide and the cold wind almost took your breath away. Luckily it wasn’t snowing anymore but there was a thick, icy layer on the floor that crunched underneath your trainers as you took a step outside, holding the trash tightly.

Just as predicted, it didn’t take you long to reach the trash bin, discarding of the bag into the container and then start the short journey back, the kitchen lights being the only luminosity that you had.

Only a couple of steps away from the door did your luck run out as the fresh covering of snow coated a puddle that had frozen over. It all happened so quickly that you hadn’t any time to put your arms out to soften the blow, instead as your feet slipped back, you managed to fall onto your side, your right arm tucked into your ribs which also meant it was the first thing to collide with the floor.

Not only this but as your elbow then took the impact of your ribs causing the wind to be knocked out of you, taking a minute before you were able to take in a breath of air and the pain was excruciating. It started in your wrist, travelling the length of your arm and down the right side of your rib cage.

As the initial shock wore off, it wasn’t long and you were crying from the pain, attempting to stand as adrenaline and the cold were causing you to shake which only made the pain worse. Somehow, you’d managed to walk your way back into the house, closing and locking the back door with your uninjured arm as silent tears rolled down your cheeks.

Trying not to lose composure completely and have a complete meltdown, you even managed to take off your trainers before walking into the bathroom and staring into the large mirror above the sink.

The entire right side of your body was drenched from lying in the snow, the whites of your eyes were red from crying and the wet streaks left behind by the tears were obvious to anyone that you were in pain. You’d been too scared to look at your wrist in case it was broken but from what you could see in the mirror, there wasn’t any obvious bone sticking out of the skin, thank god.

Beginning with your fingers, you moved each one slowly and then all together. Next was your hand which ached a little bit but again this wasn’t broken, but as you attempted to straighten your arm, you audibly shouted in pain as the burning hot sensation spiked through from your elbow to your shoulder.

Having dealt with Steve and Bucky and their multitude of injuries, you were sure there was nothing broken, possibly just a strain, needing to keep it wrapped up with some ice and painkillers. You attempted to sigh in relief but as you sucked in a deep breath, more aching pain shot through your ribs. Again you were sure there were no broken bones as the pain wasn’t as significant as how the elbow felt but it was enough that you’d be in discomfort for a while.

With your left hand, you began to clean your face, attempting to brighten yourself up and then returning back to the kitchen to take some Advil and check the food wasn’t burning which thankfully it wasn’t.

Then it dawned on you. Steve and Bucky.

Luckily your clothes were beginning to dry from the heat on the stovetop but how were you expected to hide this injury from them? And should you even keep this a secret, maybe they wouldn’t freak out if they heard you sprained your elbow?

Ok that was a lie, of course, they were going to overreact, as well as being injured from something they explicitly asked you not to do and it was embarrassing, if they could go without knowing you had slipped over, that would be wonderful. All you needed were a few days as you contemplated the excuses, making yourself feel sick with the nerves that were building.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed loudly, knowing there was no use. Whenever you were around either man they were always touching you, no excuse would stop them. If it was your period they would be massaging your abdomen to help the cramps. If you said you were feeling unwell, they would lie in bed with you, stroking your hair and being at your side until you felt better. There was nothing Steve and Bucky wouldn’t do for you so you’d have to just face the consequences for your actions.

Switching off the stove and leaving the food to sort out later, your hands began to tremble slightly as you decided to call them and tell them, at least you wouldn't have to say it to their faces. Steve would most likely be driving so you clicked on Bucky’s name, lifting the phone to your ear as a heavy sensation filled your stomach, biting your lip to try and distract yourself.

The first ring hadn’t even finished before his gruff voice was answering, “we really have to stop meeting like this Doll, people are going to think you like me” Bucky teased.

You attempted a half-laugh under your breath, he always found a way of making you feel at ease. “Wouldn’t want them thinking that” you responded quietly, staring at a spot on the floor.

“What’s up anyway, sweet mama?” he asked casually.

“How far away are you?” you asked, feeling the full weight of your anxiety throughout your body, feeling almost nauseous.

“Only a couple of minutes, just a block or two away now. I told you we weren’t going to be long”, he politely reminded you. “Why? Did you need anything from the shops or something?”

You found yourself shaking your head rather than answering, not entirely sure what to say. Apparently, you had not answered for a suspicious amount of time because Bucky spoke up again, sounding worried. “Sweetheart? Is everything ok?”

In the background, you could hear Steve as he asked, “put her on speaker. Honey? What’s wrong?” he sounded more serious than Bucky had.

You could feel your eyes filling with tears again as your nerves got the better of you, “don’t be mad at me”.

“Mama you’re scaring us, what’s wrong?” Bucky was using his “work voice now”, with no hint of sarcasm or joy as you could hear the car’s engine revving louder in the background to show that Steve had begun driving faster.

“Don’t rush, please be careful still, I’m ok! Well I’m not but I um- fuck!” you exclaimed, your anxiety causing you to stutter and panic more. “I did something stupid and I don’t want to tell you because you’re going to be mad at me but I also can’t hide it either” you rushed out, still pacing across the kitchen.

“Baby girl, I’m going to need you to take a deep breath for me and try and explain what's going on, do I need to get some of the guards to come in?” Steve asked. You tried to take some deep breaths but this only caused the ache to return to your ribs.

“No, it’s ok, I don’t need them. I just wanted to tell you on the phone because I don’t think I could say it in person because it’s embarrassing and you told me not to and-”

“You went outside didn’t you”, it was Bucky who made the point and you hated how quick it was for him to guess that you’d done something you’d been told not to.

“Yes”, you whispered into the phone, tears still slipping down your cheeks.

You’d expected them to groan in exasperation or even laugh at your stupidity but they didn’t, both asking questions along the lines of, “are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance? Have you hit your head? Are you ok?”

“I didn’t hit my head and I don’t need an ambulance, I think I’ve just sprained my elbow and bruised my ribs that’s all,” you explained to them.

“We’re just pulling into the drive now mama, can you still move your fingers?” he continued the conversation, even as you heard them exiting the car outside.

“Yes, and I can move my hand still”, you began walking towards the front door sheepishly as it opened, Steve rushing through first followed by Bucky who hung up the phone. You weren’t sure what to have expected, maybe a frown of displeasure or anger but instead, it was only worry as their eyes frantically searched you up and down.

“I’m sorry” was your automatic response, wishing you could run and hug them both but not wanting to move your arm and risk the pain. Steve reached you first, cupping both of your cheeks, his thumb wiping away any of the tears that were still there.

“Shh, it’s ok, just show us where it hurts,” he said in a much softer tone than anticipated. Glancing down at your arm that was still kept close to your side to reduce the pain, you wiggled the fingers of the injured hand.

“It’s this one but as I said, I don’t think it’s broken, I can still move it but it just really hurts”.

Bucky delicately placed your hand in his, inspecting every inch of skin with his eyes first then his own fingers, checking for any lumps or tender spots. Once satisfied, he too agreed that it was most likely a sprain, even noticing that the area had begun to swell slightly. “Think it’ll be best to wrap it up and place your arm in a sling to stop it moving as much, maybe some ice as well to help with the swelling”.

So this was exactly what the two of them did. Over the next half an hour, they helped you out of your shirt which became too painful to manoeuvre off so Steve ripped it off instead, promising to buy a new one. Then Bucky delicately wrapped the area and placed your arm into a sling, before helping one of their larger plain t-shirts over your head the wrapped arm remaining inside of the t-shirt.

Then after returning downstairs, Bucky dished up the chilli you’d cooked earlier, as Steve placed some ice into a towel and helped to hold it against your arm. This he did for the entirety of the meal, even after you’d said it would be fine and could do it after, he insisted on holding it to the injured area.

Sometime later, you were in a warm sandwich on the couch, Bucky to your left and Steve to your right, careful as to not touch your arm or rib, the TV showing some random show that Bucky had been recommended by Sam.

“Thank you, for not freaking out about my arm and not being angry with me”, you said glancing between your two boyfriends with a thankful and relieved smile.

“I don’t know why you always assume the worst of us, we’d never be angry with you mama”, Bucky’s voice was gentle, his own smile glistening in the shallow light.

“It’s not assuming the worst, it’s just the whole ‘I told you so’ scenario spiralled in my head. I mean, I’d be angry if you didn’t drive carefully and got into an accident”.

Steve’s finger delicately traced over your jawbone as he leaned down to kiss your temple, mumbling against your forehead, “I’d love to see you try and be angry with us”. You raised an eyebrow at his teasing, looking towards him as his lips dipped to gently caress yours before he continued on. “Anyway, we don’t need to say I told you so for you to feel the repercussions for your actions and ignoring our warnings”.

Your smile dropped, pulling away from his kiss to try and get a better understanding of what this meant. “What repercussions?”

Steve leaned back fully, watching the TV as he spoke. “Well of course you need to heal, and that’s going to take quite a few days by the looks of things which means no touching.”

No touching… what was he talking about? You found yourself frowning now, looking at the mafia boss. “What do you mean no touching?”

It was Bucky who spoke next though, his metal hand moving a few strands of hair away from your face as he addressed you. “Exactly what he said, no. touching.”

“But you’re touching me now, I don’t understand-”.

Oh.

Oh no.

“But….but that part of me isn’t injured?” It felt like you were watching tennis with how fast you were turning your head between Steve and Bucky who were both smirking as they watched the TV.

“Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart,” Steve asked in a light tone, clearly finding the situation funny.

“But I can’t, my ribs hurt”.

“Exactly, do you really think you could handle one of us, let alone both of us fucking you? Now, we could use our mouths, a couple of fingers or even a toy but that’s only going to hurt you more when you’re taking deep breaths to scream our names”.

Even just talking about it was causing you to feel turned on, thighs rubbing together just thinking about all of those scenarios, all of which apparently you would not be experiencing until you felt better.

“But…but that’s not fair, I think I could handle it!” you sounded unbelievably needy but you didn’t care.

“Shall we test out that theory? If we take you upstairs and you flinch or gasp in pain, even once, neither of us will be making you cum until you are better” Bucky threatened but you were past the point of no return, needing to feel him, watching his hands on your body so you were instantly agreeing, letting them help you to stand.

It was definitely not the most attractive you’d ever looked getting ready for bed, deciding to keep the t-shirt on as it meant your arm could stay close to your chest but Steve had to help pull your joggers, panties and socks off as it was difficult with only the one arm.

Finally, however, you were lying in the middle of the bed, and a leg was thrown over Bucky’s shoulder as he ran his tongue up your dripping cunt. Your ribs were already aching from breathing at a faster rate but the flicks that the tip of his warm tongue, something he had promised to do earlier on the phone, were distracting you enough from the pain.

He was taking it nice and slow, making sure to touch every area between your legs with his mouth, building your arousal up but it already felt like you were going to orgasm. Bucky could also tell from where he was between your legs, his eyes watching your every moan and movement, the same with Steve whose lap your head was laid in.

You were trying to relax your face as you desperately wanted to flinch but you were so so close, just a few more minutes. This was when Bucky decided to seal his lips around your clit and suck, causing you to both suck in a deep breath and arch your back.

Not only did you scrunch your face up but also hissed from the pain, reaching with your good arm to hold your ribs.

Bucky was instantly moving away, making sure you were ok but now you were shouting in frustration for another reason. “No, please! Don’t stop I was so close!”

Steve tutted above you, stroking your cheek, “we did warn you, baby girl, we just need to make sure you’re feeling better first”.

It felt like you were being punished for something, and in a way, you were but to be edged so closely to have it all taken away and for this to go on for a few days! You were half tempted to lock yourself away in the bathroom and finish it yourself but they also would be kicking down the door to stop you.

Admitting defeat, you sulked further up the bed, wanting to just go to sleep and forget about the whole ordeal. Even worse was having to lie on your back to protect your arm and ribs which meant that you couldn’t be properly spooned by either boyfriend, only having room for Steve to place one arm across your thighs.

Just as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, Steve’s fingers began to wander up and down the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Steve stop that” you whispered tiredly, clenching your thighs together and trapping his fingers.

“Hmm?”

He stopped for only a few minutes before continuing his actions which were causing small bursts of pleasure to spark in your abdomen. This time you batted away his hand causing him to chuckle.

“Stop that, you know I’m sensitive there, I thought you said no touching”.

“Maybe we should have been more specific. Remember when we said there would be repercussions, maybe we wouldn’t be saying ‘I told you so’ but you did do something stupid even after we told you not to for exactly this reason, and you get hurt. So I stand by no orgasms but these touches? These are your punishments for not listening”.

24 hours later and you were wishing they’d come home angry instead, wished that they had shouted at you or said I told you so because this punishment was near torture for your pussy.

Neither went to work the next day, instead, they continued to look after you, checking over your arm which was still slightly swollen and still very painful and once it was rebandaged, the torment continued.

It started in little ways, a hand high on the thigh whilst sitting at the table for breakfast, lingering kisses up the column of your neck or eyes wondering too low along the neckline in a suggestive manner that all had your cheeks burning and panties dampening. However, as the day progressed it only increased which only made it more difficult as they were being so caring in other ways such as helping hands to stand, being cooked for, helping to get changed or getting painkillers whenever you asked.

By the time it was bedtime, their teasing had reached a new level of torment however after finishing brushing your teeth, you found both of your boyfriends lying on the covers, completely naked, mouths gaped open in loud moans as they wanked themselves off.

Your eyes were wide and unblinking as you moved from watching Steve, taking in every detail of his naked body, over to Bucky who you now realised was moaning your name.

Your knees felt unsteady and they pumped both of their cocks, a light sheen of sweat coating their bodies, something you wish you could lick up, as well as the small drips of precum on the tips of their cocks.

“Like what you see?” Steve asked, snapping you out of the horny trance you seemed to be stuck in.

“This- this isn’t fair!” you shouted, watching as Steve thrust his hips up to meet his fist, wish it was your mouth he was thrusting into, wanting nothing more than to taste him.

Not being able to watch anymore, you quickly returned to the bathroom and shut the door, hoping to drown out the noises they were both creating but they were still very audible so you also turned on the tap.

Even then you could still hear their deep moans and you desperately tried to pull down your joggers but the movements only caused pain to flare up in your still-healing ribs and arm. You sighed aggressively, unbelievably horny and frustrated and not able to do a single thing about it so you sat on the toilet lid and hoped the next few days would fly by.

Of course, it didn’t though and with their teasing it seemed to make the days drag by and at one point, you’d even begun to feel slightly floaty from being so horny. The overwhelming sensations in your abdomen and in between your legs were driving you insane and as the fourth day was coming to an end and the word “daddy” began to slip from your lips, Steve and Bucky decided maybe they would tease as much as they had been.

By the sixth day, your ribs were feeling a lot better, even being able to stretch as you woke up. Your arm was still tender when moving but it didn’t need to be in a sling anymore, the sprain having been quite mild in comparison.

Still, however, you continued with the day, trying to distract from the uncomfortable feeling in your cunt and having a restless night's sleep once more.

On the seventh day, your ribs were nearly back to normal and you could move your arm as you had before, maybe you couldn’t rest your weight on it but this was as best as it was going to be.

Steve and Bucky were still sleeping on either side of you, and as you turned on your side to look at Steve on his side facing towards the centre of the bed, you could feel how drenched in between your legs were. Your juices had spread over the top of your thighs and ruined your pyjama shorts.

Hating the sensation, you tried to shuffle out of them in the centre of the bed, thankful that you were finally able to use your other arm to do so. Your movements were not subtle either, hoping to wake either of your boyfriends.

Thankfully this master plan worked as Steve grunted, “what are you doing baby?”

You didn’t answer, instead reaching for his hand and bringing it up to your thighs, letting him feel your arousal. He peaked one eye open at the wet sensation, a cunning smirk creeping across his lips, “did someone have a good dream?” he teased.

Once again you didn’t say anything, your thoughts on one thing only as you moved down his naked body which was also another punishment that she had to sleep in clothes and they slept naked, feeling their warm soft bodies against her side but not being able to touch. Until now that is as your mouth was finally level with one of the objects you desired most and his flaccid cock was being sucked into your mouth

Steve sucked in air quickly, cursing under his breath and then he was pulling back your head as you could already see his cock hardening. This didn’t stop you however as you pushed back on his hips so he was now lying on his back, batting away his hands, crawling to sit between his legs and continues to suck his cock.

With your once pained arm, you held down one of his wrists that was starting to make its way to pulling you off him again and then it clicked for him

“I see someone is feeling better” he muttered before groaning and closing his eyes as your tongue lapped up the underside of his now fully erect cock. “Fuck you’re good at that”, his praises were like music to your ears as his hand settled lightly on your head as you began to take his length into your throat, trying to take every inch of him, needing to taste everything he had to offer.

“Well good morning to you two” Bucky’s deep morning voice had your attention snapping towards him as he watched you closely, his attention on your arm that was still holding down one of Steve’s wrists. Releasing Steve’s cock with an audible pop, your eyes drifted lower on Bucky, seeing the visible tent under the sheet, smiling slightly at the awaiting treat.

“What do you want mama?” Bucky asked, sitting up, causing the sheet to pool around his hips.

“I want you both”, you admitted desperately, eyes flicking between the blonde and brunette.

“Come and sit on Daddy's lap, that way you can taste Bucky and still have me, baby” Steve demanded, sitting up as well, helping as you were instantly moving to sit in his lip, not wasting another second as your hand wrapped around his cock and aimed it for your awaiting entrance.

Your dripping arousal was all the lube you needed as you sat on his cock, the girth stretching you out completely, eyes rolling to the back of your head in overwhelming desire.

Again, you weren’t waiting around, needing them both now so as your cunt adjusted to Steve’s cock, you reached out for Bucky who was standing on the bed so his hard member which was throbbing in the air, was now eye level with you.

Hungrily you reached for it, pulling him straight towards your mouth, starting with a long lick up the underside before flicking the tip of your tongue over the head of his cock causing him to grit his teeth in pleasure, “fuck I have missed that tongue of yours”.

You grinned before taking a couple of inches into his mouth and sucking whilst simultaneously beginning to move your hips up and down Steve’s cock.

This had to be the closet you’d been to being in charge, normally at the complete submission to them both but the days of teasing had caused any sort of sanity to leave your body, your arousal doing the only thinking for you now.

The boys were just as eager to help you out as Bucky held back any hair that was getting in the way, and Steve began to move your hips up and down, your juices causing obscene noises to come from between your legs but it only matched perfectly to the ones coming from your throat.

You tried to take as much of Bucky’s cock into your throat as you could before gagging and the moans he was producing as he stared down at you were pure perfection. But before long you were pulling away, having to suck in air quickly, not having time to ask permission before shouting, “I'm cuming!”

You had to hold onto Steve’s shoulders tightly as your body was rocked with your first orgasm in a week, your cunt contracting around his cock in waves that last longer than usual.

You were thankful for Steve as he basically held you up, waiting patiently for you to catch your breath, kissing along your shoulder causing shivers to erupt through your body. “Do you want to have a break?” Steve asked gently.

Shaking your head against his shoulder, you responded, “I want you both to cum inside of me, please sir”.

He chuckled, kissing you just below the ear where you were most sensitive, feeling your cunt tighten around him. “I’m sure we can both do that for our best girl” he praised, wrapping both arms around your back, and switching positions, lying you in the centre of the bed and this was where you stayed.

It started with Steve, you thought he was going to continue fucking you but instead he dropped his face between your legs, lapping up all the extra juices you’d produced, not stopping until you were cuming again before he finally began to fuck you again.

Starting slow and then building up the pace until your hips were slapping together, his large thumb brushing back and forth against your clit until your third orgasm was trembling through your body. Enough so that you’d not even noticed that Steve had came with you, his hot seed dripping out of you and onto the sheets below as smiled happily up at him.

Steve leaned down, kissing your lips once before rolling off and watching his best friend, move to take over his position.

Bucky took a minute to appreciate your body, his metal hand gliding over the skin causing goosebumps to appear. “I’ve been waiting all week for this” he grunted as he too dropped his face between your legs and instantly was sucking your already oversensitive clit into his mouth, much like he had seven days before.

Your guttural scream echoed around your bedroom, hands gripping his hair tightly, keeping him them. Bucky licked up every drop of Steve’s cum from your cunt before inching two of his fingers in and as he curled them, his mouth and tongue played with your clit.

With all the previous stimulation it wasn’t long before you screamed out his name in pleasure experiencing yet another orgasm. It took a while for you to catch your breath after this one but you still wanted Bucky to also cum inside of you, “please sir, I still want you!”

He was more than happy to complete your request as he knelt between your legs, lifting one of them up until your foot rested on his shoulder and then he was easing his cock into your sensitive hole.

Your bodies moved frantically, and you desperately tried to reach him with your hands so he repositioned himself so you could wrap both legs around his waist, using his forearm strength to rest on either side of your head. His hips continue to move at a quick pace as he plunged his tongue into your mouth, mixing the taste of him and Steve’s cum with your taste and you were moaning in a constant stream, fingers gripping into his hips.

Bucky gasped loudly, pulling away from the kiss to rest his forehead on yours as your cunt desperately fluttered around his cock, nearly yet another orgasm. He knew it was most likely your last before you needed a rest so he frantically demanded, “don’t cum, not yet hot mama, I’m so close, just a little bit longer”.

You grunted in exasperation, needing that release and tried to will your body to do as you wanted but it was no use. “I- I can’t, I’m going to cum Bucky”.

“Ah, that’s ok baby, I’m cuming, cum with me, that's a good girl, fuck!” You had to push yourself away from Bucky your cunt contracted that hard and was so sensitive, causing his streams of cum to cover your abdomen but you didn’t care. Your entire body felt like it was floating in euphoria, everything felt perfect and truly satisfied, the sensation you’d been wanting all week.

In your exhaustion, you hadn’t heard anything Steve and Bucky had said between one another. Only noticing when a warm flannel was being brushed between your legs to try and clean you, a feeling that you tried to get away from but Steve was quick to calm you, “shh it’s ok, I’m just cleaning you, just relax”.

You did as instructed, allowing him to clean the rest of you off including the drying streaks of Bucky’s cum.

Bucky on the other hand had returned with a glass of water, encouraging you to drink it all and then climbing back into bed, pulling you into his side. Steve also did the same, his fingers grazing over your naked spine in a comforting manner.

“That’s the last time I ever don’t listen to you both,” you mumbled against Bucky’s chest, half asleep.

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #mafia bucky #mafia steve rogers #mafia stucky #mine*#marvel smut #marvel fanfic

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lokideservesahug · 15 days

Text

A Whole New World

Part of the 𝓕1 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: No descriptions of reader except she has hair, sexism, Abu is actually Max Fewtrell

Notes: Here is the first of two parts for the Lando/Aladdin au. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Princess Y/N has turned down many suitors over the years. So why is it that a certain 'Street rat' has captured her attention?

Word Count: 4.1 k

Part 2

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Throughout your entire life, all you have known is the confinement of the Palace walls you were raised in. You understand why you were kept in the grounds of the palace but it didn't make things any more exciting.

So with that train of thought, you devise a cunning plan one morning. No one could let you leave the Palace... but practically, could leave if no one knew. So that's what you did. You waited until the right day came (when the guards that always fell asleep were on rotation).

For a place that was wanted to be so "heavily guarded", it was surprisingly easy to sneak out. All it took was a moth-bitten, aged brown robe of your mother's, may she rest in peace, and a calculated amount of agility (that was all but taught to you in your lessons of grace and decorum as a child). When you finally step foot outside the Palace for the first time in your life, you are left awestruck.

Colossal warm-toned pillars towered over you; despite your power in the country, they make you feel insignificant.

Despite this foreign territory, you find that the city is easy enough to navigate, just as long as you remember the way you came. City life was unsurprisingly bustling yet the unfamiliar loud noises make you smile rather than wince. It truly was a nice contrast to your regular surroundings. When you eventually reach the centermost part of the town, a plethora of market stands decorated in all sorts of attention-catching fabrics line every corner. As you trek further, someone runs past you, pushing you slightly to the side. When you turn to berate them, however, you see that it's only one of many children playing - by running slightly too fast.

Your heart warms at the sight. However, your attention was drawn to a pair of boys, no older than about 8 standing in place, longingly staring at the baker's cart. You crouch down to their level and think about how best to approach this interaction with the first stranger you've spoken to in years.

"Oh gosh. Are you hungry?" You ask the scrawny boys. The taller of the two looks at you and the wordless answering his eyes is enough to act. You grab a loaf of bread from the cart to your side and hold it to the boy staring at you in what now appears to be awe. "Here. Take some bread." At your actions, the pair light up like children on Christmas day and proceed to run off with a newfound pep in their steps.

As you watch them run off, you hear a new voice begin to shout. "Hey! You are stealing from me?" Left dumbfounded at his words, you try and utter a response. "Stealing? No, I was just-" The man doesn't even begin to let you explain your actions as he cuts across you "Well you have not paid!" You see his eyes give you a quick one over as he continues "You either pay, or I take your bracelet."

Once more, you try and explain your predicament. "Sir I don't have any money" At your words, he grabs your bracelet-clad arm and begins to try and pry your jewelry from you. "Let go of me!" Despite your words, the man does not stop his attempts at removing your accessory. Your aggressor once more goes to shout in your face when suddenly, someone steps between you and the vendor. "Woah, take it easy man."

"Kalil walks away from the stall and she" The added emphasis on the pronouns makes you shrink into yourself "steals the bread." "Those children were hungry" This man's behaviour was outrageous. How can he be so cruel to those so unfortunate?

"Those children were starting. I did no-"

"OK. Just give me a second" After he speaks, your 'saviour' turns to you as the man behind him says "Keep your street rat nose out of my business! Huh?" The younger man turns to you again and asks in a soft, quiet tone "Do you have any money?" "No!" Your response comes as his hands easily find a place around your bracelet-clad wrist. "OK," His look becomes much more determined as he says his next words "Alright. Just trust me."

Before you can fully register his words he has turned around and you notice your bare wrist as he speaks to the vendor once more. "Here you go" You don't even have any time to protest. "This is what you wanted right?" He holds up your bracelet almost like a trophy and his actions make you sick to your stomach. The street vendor then sports a massive grin as he resounds to the man you thought was your Knight in shining armor. "Yes. Thank you." The younger man adds "Oh and an apple for your troubles."

By the time the fruit has left his hands, he has already turned and grabbed your wrist to swiftly guide you away. "Hey! That was my-" You let out a frustrated huff " I think not leaving without my bracelet." "You mean this bracelet?" The younger man all but huffs lowly. "Come on."

His actions leave you starstruck but as you hear the vendor shout, you begin to worry. "Lando. Thief! Lando." "Are we in trouble?" You turn to the man to your left. "Only if we get caught."

"Lando!" "Down that alley. The monkey knows the way." You'd been so wrapped up in the unwilling events that you had somehow managed to miss the monkey sitting on the man's (Lando you assume) shoulder. You can hear the vendor shout in the background but you're more focused on the freaking monkey moving from his shoulder to yours.

You go to protest but his gentle murder of reassurance that "You'll be fine" leaves you with no room to argue. As promised, the monkey really does know the way. You find yourself darting over and under places you never would have dreamed existed as you can hear the distant shouts and murmurs of the so-called "street rat's" escape.

As you dart around yet another corner, the man almost runs into you. Damn, he's good at this. You watch in amusement at his theatrics covering his elution of the guards. After kicking over some scaffolding with some Kingdom guards on, he turns to you. "Together on three." You repeat his words back to him to show your understanding. "We jump." "We jump?" There isn't much time for your confusion before he smiles and leans down. "There's no need to repeat everything I say"

He begins his counting and as he reaches the final "three!" He leaps from beside you. You look down at his safe landing but when he notices your absence and whips around to find you, you can't help but apologize. "I'm sorry. But I just can't do this." His eyes never leave yours despite the increasing volume of shouts "Look at me. You can do this." You spare a glance at the guards. Well, you have nothing to lose if you jump (aside from your life).

You aren't even fully aware of your feet leaving the ground or even your body in the air. Yet you certainly notice when you land tangled up with your savior. You glance nervously at the man and quickly detach yourself as he stands up and begins to run away. With no choice but to follow him, you find yourself running along rooftops and jumping (albeit smaller gaps) once again.

You lose sight of him for a moment but when you see the monkey from before look over and squeak at the edge, you begin to worry. That disputes when you see the man stick his head above the edge. "Let's go. I know somewhere where we'll be safe."

He leads you down to the ground once more. You can't help but stop and ask "Where are we?" His only response response "You'll see" as he grabs a rope. Suddenly, the sound of mechanical wiring fills your ears and in front of you where there used to be nothing, a set of stairs appears.

"Woah. Is this where you live?" He smiles in response to your words. "Yep. Just me and Max who come and go as we please." So Max is the name of his monkey you note. When you reach the top of the stairs, your eyes are greeted by a tremendous sight.

A giant cloth roof hangs over the brick space with smaller paper lamps hanging off the material. Your attention however is caught by the balcony on the far side of the space that you instantly rush to. You take in the city skyline for the first time properly. You shed your cloak as you began "I can't believe..." "What?" "I can't believe that we just did that. That we're even alive. With that chase and all of the running and jumping. It was amazing." "Tea?" He asks yet you don't focus on his words.

"Thank you. And thank you for getting me out of there... Lando? Was it?"

"Uhm You're welcome..." At his silence, you try and rack your brain for a quick lie. "Dalia! I... am Dalia" "Dalia. From the Palace?" Your eyes widen at his words. Oh no. "How could you tell?" "Well only someone from the palace would ever be able to afford a bracelet like that. Oh obviously and that silk lining is imported as well. It goes from the merchants at the Dock straight to the Palace. You look down as if you've been caught.

"At least not to servants" Oh no. He really was good. "Well, not to most servants. Meaning you must be a handmaiden to the princess!" You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Impressive." "If you think that's impressive, you need to see the city from up there." He points to a ledge above the balcony and you turn in excitement to view more of this spectacle. You climb up and look upon your city in awe. It truly is beautiful. You mumble to yourself about how you should get out more (the irony not being lost in your mind) but Lando overhears your words.

"You should tell the princess to get out more. No one has seen her in years." "They won't let her. Ever since my-" You catch yourself before eyes dully slip up "the queen was killed in cold blood the sultan has been terrified for the safety of his daughter. So she's kept locked away." "It seems everyone has been afraid since then. But the people really had nothing to do with it. The people truly loved her." You can't help yourself smiling "They did, didn't they?"

You pick up a small, guitar leaned up against the wall. "Is this yours?" Lando doesn't look you directly in the eyes as he responds. "Sort of, it's borrowed." You then begin to play a tune of your past. "My mother taught me that song" He sounds almost sorrowful as he says it. "Mine too.: "It's all I can remember of her." You frown at his words. "You say you live alone? What happened to your father?" "I lost them both when I was extremely young. I've been on my own ever since. It's alright it's just..." "What?" He begins to make his way up the stairs to your level as he continues "It's a little sad. Having a monkey be the only authority figure in your life." His words cause you to laugh slightly. And for the first time since your meeting, you finally have the time to take in his features.

His brown hair juts out in many directions with one curl in the centre hanging over his forehead. His blue eyes staring at you are enchanting. As you look down during your chuckle, you can't but notice that (unsurprisingly with his lifestyle) his physicality isn't bad on the eyes either. His words bring you back to reality as he continues.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm" "Trapped." You finish his words off, knowing exactly the feeling. You continue as his gaze fixes on you again "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He murmurs a quiet "yes" whilst nodding. The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes when you both hear the shouts of sailors coming to Dock. "Welcome Prince Anders" the guards exclaim. A giant extravagant ship, carrying a royal crest on the sail shatters your brief, calm fantasy.

"I have to get back to the Palace!" "This way." Lando nods to the way you came. And once again, you did yourself blindly following the man (after you pick up your cloak of course). You begin to gravel the way you came but with increased pace. Lando smiles behind you at your urgency. "It's just another prince coming to try and court the princess." You stop briefly. "Yes. And I need to prepare her... Oh! Do you have my bracelet?" "Yeah," He rummaged in his pocket whilst you scan the horizon to gauge how much time you have. "I'm sure I put I in here." His movements become more frantic as he tries to search for your lost jewelry. "Somewhere... Max, did you take it?" The monkey stares at him and just scratches his head.

"That was my mother's bracelet..." You feel almost, lost. "Yes. And it's truly beautiful." You suddenly come to a realization. "You are a thief." "Yes but-" "And I am so naïve" You quickly then away from him and begin to rush towards the Palace as a mix of disappointment and sadness swirl in your gut. You hear his shouts behind you but you can't even bring yourself to turn around and look at him.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Welcome Prince Anders" Your father's words become a blur as you stand at the top of the palace stairwell. You began to descend the stairs as you pondered. Your patience was growing thin with the amount of suitors coming to court you. It wasn't that you had an issue with marriage, it was just that you had an issue with the suitors that kept coming. Every single one was here for power (which you understood you suppose) but all had fatal character flaws. They were either too involved with the patriarchy or wanted 15 children or some other outlandish thing. You hadn't found the perfect suitor yet. You couldn't even think of what this perfect man would be like but you knew that you would just know. Your brain drifts momentarily to the blue eyes from earlier and you don't have any time to ponder on it before your father's words cut through your thoughts.

"Prince Anders, this is my daughter Y/N." You hear a gasp from the man now standing opposite you. "Wow. Why did no one tell me of your beauty?" "No one mentions yours either." Your words (arguably a jab) at the man only make him chuckle. " Oh! Thank you. They say that in Skånland. Yeah. Right?" He turns to his men behind him. They laugh with the prince but if it's genuinely funny to them or just to amuse their leader, you're unsure. "It is very amusing." "Is it?" Your words cut him off slightly. "We have the exact same title yet are never described the same way." Your father clears his throat and mutters your name as a warning.

The prince awkwardly nods his head in agreeance with your words when he suddenly spots your tiger growling slightly. "Oh! What is that? Wait, don't tell me. It is a cat... with stripes." A distant voice calls to the prince "He likes you." Once more, the prince continues to talk of his greatness by adding "Oh yeah! In Skånland, cats love me. Here kitty. Pst pst." He begins to approach your four-legged companion and with this, the tiger to your side begins to growl with increased volume. You aren't even looking at either of them when you hear a scream followed by many sets of laughter.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After you kindly dismissed the prince with soft apologies and promises of friendship. You find yourself wandering the halls of the palace in search of your father. You assume that he is in his regular place in his office. But as you walk down the corridor, you hear shouts that you can't quite make out and then two murmurs of "Invading Shiribad is the" You cut across your father's words "Invade Shiribad?" You turn and look at the man accompanying your father. Jafar, your father's second in command and a true thorn in your kingdom's side sometimes. "Why on Earth would we invade the kingdom of my mother?" "We would never, ever invade Shiribad" At your father's agreement, you opt for a sharper glare to give Jafar. "But an ally I'm Skånland would improve our situation." You brush off his accusatory tone as your father answers him. "Yes. If you consider giving Prince Anders a chance-" "To rule? Father that man is power-hungry and clearly only cares about his own image. Even Rajah would make a better leader than him!" You point to the tiger sitting beside you. "My dear, I am not getting any younger and as more time passes, the urgency of finding you a husband increases. And we are running out of kingdoms."

At his chuckles you roll your eyes. "What...foreign prince could care for our people as I do? I could lead if..." "My dear, you can not be sultan. It has never been done in the 1,000-year history of our Kingdom." "I have been preparing for this my entire life. I have read every book possible, I have-" "Books?" Jafar finds a way to weasel know your conversation. "You can not read experience. Inexperience is lethal. People left unchecked will revolt. Both walls and borders will be attacked if left unguarded."

"Jafar is right. One day, you will understand. You can leave now." Your father's words cause you to huff in frustration but flee the room.

As you exit with Rajah following closely behind you, you hear footsteps pacing towards you. Rajah growls as Jafar says softly yet condescendingly "Life would be kinder to you princess. If you were to accept these traditions and understand that it is better for you to be seen rather than heard."

You refused to meet his eyes and after he was clearly done with his demeaning speech, you walked away to your Chambers.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Surely there is something I can do." You speak to your handmaiden, Dalia (the real handmaiden Dalia) as she rubs your shoulders. "Oh, what a hard life you lead. I wish I would have the struggle of having to choose which prince to marry. Oh, the tall and clever one or the clever and handsome one. A handsome prince wants to marry you, when will life get easier." You disregard her sarcastic tone "It's not that I don't want to marry. It's just... "You want to be sultan. But why would you with life like yours?" You turn and smile at her. "Do you remember remember my mother used to say? We would only ever be as happy as" Dalia choruses the last few words as you say them " our least favorite subject." You paused. "If she saw what I did today she'd be shattered." Dalia takes your hands and gives you a sympathetic smile. "She would also want you to be safe. And clean, I'll draw a bath"

"Jafar's guards on every corner? What kind of dystopia are we living in? I can help." You then look at the woman now behind you. "I know I can. I was born for so much more determined just marrying some useless prince!" "If you had to marry a useless prince prince could certainly do much, much worse than this one. Who's tall and dreamy? And he may be a little bit dim but you're only getting married. It's not like you'd have to talk to him." You furrow your brows at her. "But you'd much prefer that boy from the market." You feel your cheeks heat up. She laughs as she walks off and you can't seem to find it in you to disagree with her words.

As promised, she leaves to go to the adjacent room and draw a bath for you. Suddenly, a loud knock cuts through the quiet night breeze. That's odd. There aren't usually visitors coming to see you at this time of night. You open the tall door (that is surprisingly light) and you are met with the same blue eyes that have been plaguing your thoughts all afternoon. You don't even register your gasp before he is asking the same thing as he asked you this afternoon. "Tea?" He smiles warmly at you. "You... You! What on Earth are you doing here?" The sound of guards growing nearer fills your ears. "Get in here." You grab him and push him into the room whilst also surveying the corridor.

"I needed to come and return your bracelet." You freeze momentarily at his words. "What? Where is it?" You can hear his subtle smirk as he says "Already on your wrist." You glance down and as promised, your mother's bracelet once more on your arm. You can hear Lando compliment your interior design choices but your biggest worry is "How did you slip past the palace guards?" He turns to look at you, tray of tea and saucers still in hand. "I'll admit, that was challenging. But I have my ways." Once more, an accomplished smile finds its way on his face.

"Whilst the princess is out, would you perhaps like to go on a stroll?" You almost forgot about the Alias you adopted later... "Have a little chat?" "You are unbelievable. You can't just break into a palace and begin to walk around like you own the place!" Despite your reprimanding him, you feel a slight smile tug on your lips at his sheer boldness. "Well, you have to act like you own everything if you own nothing... So what do you say? I did find your bracelet after all." "Find it? You were the one that stole it!" "Actually, the monkey stole it." "He's your monkey!" "He smirks and says "Still a monkey." His words make you laugh and you can't remember the last time someone made you this happy.

"Who ordered the tea?" You didn't even notice your handmaiden return but at Dalia's words, you both quickly spin to look at her. All Lando can muster is a simple "Uh..." Before you cut across him " I did!" You go to move behind Lando so you can subtly communicate with Dalia. "For you, Princess Y/N." "Your majesty" Lando bows as Dalia shoots you a very confused look. but you respond by pointing to your returned bracelet. "Why are you being weird?" Dalia's confusion annoys you. You were trying to keep this storyline up!

Lando turns and gives you an awkward smile in almost support of what he thought your predicament was. You try again. You point to your bracelet and then to Lando. As if by magic, her eyes light up in realization of what you were attempting to do. "Oh, I'm the princess...Yes" Her recovery isn't the best but it works "And it truly is good to be me with all of my fancy dresses, one for each minute of the day and my giant karts of gold things and palaces." You gesture at her to wrap up her truly painful attempt at a lie. "Now it is time for my cat to be cleaned. She walks away and you can't wait to laugh at her display later.

"She doesn't get out much." Lando just hums in agreement as he places the tea tray down. "Clearly." Your tiger then begins to growl at him. "Aren't you supposed to be in the bath?" Lando shoots you an uneasy look as the cat sniffs his hand. Before you can think on it too much, Dalia's voice is heard once again. "Oh servant girl, this cat isn't going to clean itself." "Don't cats clean themselves?" You turn to Lando, eyes wide "You have to go." "Alright. But I'm coming back tomorrow." You go to protest but he continues. "Meet me in the middle of the tea courtyard by the giant tree when the moon is above the highest branches. To return this." He pulls out your hairclip and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I promise." You see him walk off and can't help but smile at him and his antics.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain second in command to your father was alerted as Lando entered the palace and the guards had finally caught up to Lando. He looks at the head guard as the man gruffly speaks. "Evening." Lando can hear his voice break as he replies. "Even- good evening." He doesn't even need to ask to know that there are more guards behind him and he feels well and truly stuffed.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

I hope you enjoyed this! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1fau #ldah's writing

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edenesth · 5 months

Text

In Pursuit of Serendipity

Pairing: best friend!Hyunjin x fem!reader

AU: high school au

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: Your friendship is tested when Hyunjin starts crushing on his new classmate. What you didn't expect was that your own emotions would come into play. Denying your feelings, you decide to be the ultimate wingwoman, helping him while battling your own heartache in silence. Will the pursuit of love lead to happiness or heartbreak?

A/N: Lowkey inspired by the Mixtape: On Track music video, still one of my favourite MVs from SKZ.

MAIN MASTERLIST

The busy hallways of your high school were alive with the energy of students rushing to their next classes.

Amidst the sea of students, you made your way through the crowded corridors with an excitement that bubbled within you. The reason for your enthusiasm swung in your hand—a gaming magazine had just revealed the release date of the highly anticipated video game you'd been eagerly awaiting.

Hyunjin and Felix, your partners in crime since kindergarten, were waiting for you.

As you neared your usual meeting spot, a sudden obstacle appeared in the form of an unnoticed puddle. Before you could react, your foot lost its grip, sending you careening toward an embarrassing collision with the cold, tiled floor. In a split second, strong arms wrapped around you, breaking your fall.

"Whoa there! Quick reflexes, Hyunjin style." Hyunjin exclaimed, his grin showcasing his pride at the successful save.

Felix laughed heartily, "Nice dive! You should consider joining the school's gymnastics team, though I hear their routine doesn't involve slipping in the hallways."

You shot him a playful glare as he approached to make sure you were unharmed, "Thanks, Jinnie. And you," You said, turning to Felix, "Can save your sarcasm for someone else."

Felix chuckled, brushing off imaginary dirt from your shoulder, "Just making sure you're in one piece. You know, you should work on your gracefulness. It's not very lady-like to trip and fall."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "Oh, please. Who needs grace when you've got Hyunjin's superhero reflexes? And besides, I'm not planning to win any 'Miss Graceful' contests."

Hyunjin grinned, leaning against the row of lockers, "True that. But you might want to consider it. You'll never find a boyfriend if you keep stumbling around like a bull in a china shop."

You scoffed, the idea of conforming to societal expectations not even registering on your radar, "Who said I'm looking for a boyfriend anyway? I'm perfectly content with my PS5 and the upcoming release of Assassin's Creed. Relationships can wait."

Felix raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Hyunjin, "Famous last words. We'll see how long that sentiment lasts."

You brushed off their teasing with a nonchalant wave, determined to keep your priorities in check. As the three of you continued down the hallway, you couldn't help smiling at the thought of the virtual adventures awaiting you in the upcoming game—an escape from the typical high school drama and the perfect reminder that, for now, you were content marching to the beat of your own, unapologetically clumsy, drum.

After grabbing a light breakfast together from the school cafeteria, you, Hyunjin, and Felix made your way through the bustling hallways, weaving through the student traffic. Despite being part of different classes, your morning ritual of meeting up for breakfast had become a comforting constant.

As you reached the fork in the hallway leading to your respective classrooms, Felix grinned, "See you guys at lunch. Don't trip over your own feet without me around to catch you!"

You playfully nudged him, "I'll try my best, Captain Obvious."

Felix waved, disappearing into his classroom, leaving you and Hyunjin to continue down the corridor. Although your class was situated at the far end of the school, you were used to the daily trek. Hyunjin, however, insisted on walking you there, despite the inconvenience it posed for him.

"Why do you bother walking me all the way to my class, Jinnie?" You asked, your voice tinged with amusement as you walked side by side.

He shot you a teasing grin, "Well, for one, I don't trust your coordination skills without Felix or me around. And secondly, what if there's a stampede, or a meteor falls from the sky? I need to be sure you make it to class in one piece."

You scoffed, "A stampede? Really?"

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, adopting a mock-serious tone, "You never know. High school can be a dangerous place."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile lingered on your lips. It was moments like these that reminded you of the unique bond you shared with your friends. Despite the exaggeration, there was a genuine concern in his eyes that touched your heart.

Nearing the entrance of your classroom, you stopped, "You really don't have to do this every day, you know. I can handle walking to class without tripping."

Hyunjin leaned against the wall, his expression softening, "I know you can, but I want to. Call it my daily act of heroism."

You chuckled, shaking your head, "Fine, you overprotective hero. Thanks for the escort to class."

He grinned, walking you right up to the door, "Anytime, damsel in distress. I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest at the genuine care your friends showered upon you, "Okay. Don't save too many people on your way to class."

With a playful salute, Hyunjin turned to make his way to his own classroom. You watched him go, appreciating the small gestures that defined your friendship. As the classroom door closes behind you, you feel a sense of gratitude for the protective duo that made your high school journey more adventurous and, most importantly, full of genuine companionship.

Later that day, the cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos as you approached your designated spot between Hyunjin and Felix, your tray already waiting for you. Your heart warmed at the sight, and you skipped over with an infectious beam.

Felix, always quick with banter, smirked at you, "Look who decided to grace us with her presence. You missed the riveting conversation about Hyunjin's newfound muse."

Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, whose cheeks sported a subtle shade of pink. Felix couldn't resist the opportunity to tease, "He wouldn't shut up about her just before you arrived."

You slid into your seat, the playful glint in Felix's eyes not escaping you, "Oh, really? What did I miss?"

Felix leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "Our dear friend Hyunjin here has developed a massive crush on the new girl in his class. Couldn't stop talking about her smile, her laugh, you know, the works."

Hyunjin shot Felix a mock glare, but his eyes twinkled with an undeniable excitement, "Felix is exaggerating, as usual. I just mentioned her once or twice."

The three of you were engrossed in the conversation when, like clockwork, the cafeteria doors swung open. Hyunjin's head snapped up, his gaze fixating on a girl who entered with an effortless grace. She was undeniably beautiful—Lia, the new girl who had captured your friend's attention.

"There she is." Hyunjin whispered, as if afraid the mere mention of her name would make her disappear. Lia glided through the cafeteria, a radiant presence that drew the attention of many. You couldn't deny the allure; she had an undeniable charm that seemed to captivate everyone in her vicinity.

While Felix seemed excited for Hyunjin, you couldn't shake off the inexplicable discomfort settling in the pit of your stomach. You smiled, or at least you tried to, but it felt forced.

As Lia joined a group of students at a nearby table, laughter and animated conversations surrounding her, you couldn't help but wonder why the idea of Hyunjin being enamoured by her left you feeling strangely uneasy.

Oblivious to the atmosphere shift, Felix continued to prod Hyunjin about Lia. But as your eyes met Hyunjin's, you sensed a vulnerability beneath his excitement—a vulnerability you hadn't seen before. The unspoken truth lingered in the air, and you couldn't escape the realisation that your heart seemed to protest against the prospect of him falling for someone else for reasons you couldn't quite comprehend.

In the following days, you found yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. You tried to rationalise the unease that had settled within you, convincing yourself that it was merely a consequence of your friends growing up. After all, it was only natural for them to develop romantic interests outside your tight-knit trio.

You repeated the logic like a mantra, assuring yourself that this discomfort was nothing more than an adjustment period.

"It's just new," You told yourself, stirring your food absentmindedly during lunch. Felix continued his good-natured teasing about Hyunjin's infatuation with Lia, blissfully unaware of the internal struggle you were facing, "They're growing up, finding other people. It's normal. You'll get used to it."

Yet, as days turned into weeks, the knot in your stomach refused to loosen. You grappled with the notion that the dynamics of your friendship were shifting, and it wasn't centred solely around the three of you anymore. The idea of someone else occupying Hyunjin's thoughts in a way you hadn't witnessed before tugged at a thread of discomfort deep within you.

"It's just silly jealousy," You scolded yourself in the quiet moments of introspection, "He's my friend, and I should be happy for him."

Deep down, you couldn't ignore the hope that Hyunjin's crush was just a passing phase—a temporary diversion that would fade with time. You yearned for the days when your trio's world revolved around shared laughter and inside jokes, not about some new girl that caught your friend's attention.

One day, as you all gathered for lunch as usual, Felix couldn't resist poking at Hyunjin once again, "Come on, Jinnie, just admit it. You're head over heels for Lia."

Hyunjin sighed, his cheeks tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and genuine affection, "Fine. I like her, okay? Happy now?"

Felix's victorious grin was matched only by the subtle tightening of your chest. You forced a smile, attempting to mask the twinge of disappointment.

As the conversation continued, Hyunjin's genuine excitement about Lia became increasingly evident. Felix's teasing took on a more playful tone, but every word seemed to emphasise the growing reality that your friend was genuinely interested in someone beyond the confines of your trio.

Each day that passed, Hyunjin's interest in Lia became a constant presence in your lives. While he physically joined you and Felix for breakfast and lunch, his mind seemed to linger elsewhere. Conversations that were once filled with silly jokes now revolved around Lia—her interests, her quirks, and every mundane detail that seemed to captivate Hyunjin's attention.

The unintentional distance you felt from Hyunjin left you perplexed and, admittedly, frustrated. Despite your attempts to rationalise these emotions, a growing sense of unease settled within you. It was as if the equilibrium of your friendship had been disrupted, leaving you feeling somewhat adrift.

One day, after Hyunjin had passionately detailed yet another encounter with Lia during lunch, you found yourself unable to contain the frustration any longer.

In the quiet corner of the school courtyard, away from prying eyes and curious ears, you decided to confide in Felix. As you sat on the familiar park bench, the one where countless secrets had been shared among the three of you, you hesitated before finally breaking the silence.

"Lix, I don't know what's going on. I mean, I should be happy for Hyunjin, right? But every time he talks about Lia, it's like... I don't know, something's off. It's like he's here with us physically, but his mind is somewhere else."

Felix regarded you with a knowing gaze, the crinkles in his eyes softened with understanding, "Feelings are complicated. It's okay to feel the way you do. Maybe it's just an adjustment period. Things will settle down."

You sighed, grateful for his calm demeanour, "I've tried telling myself that, but it doesn't seem to be getting any better. It's just frustrating. I miss the way things used to be."

Felix leaned in, his tone gentle, "Change is hard, especially when it comes to friendships. But maybe Hyunjin needs this. Maybe it's his time to explore something beyond our trio. And who knows, it might just be a phase. People get caught up in new crushes, but that doesn't mean they forget their old friends."

You nodded, appreciating his perspective, "I just wish I could understand why I feel this way. It's like... I'm happy for him, but there's this nagging discomfort that won't go away."

Felix placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "Give it time. Sometimes, feelings need time to catch up with logic. And in the meantime, know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

In the days that followed, you made a conscious effort to follow Felix's advice. You reminded yourself that Hyunjin's sudden obsession with Lia was his first experience with romantic feelings, and it was only natural for him to be caught up in the excitement of it all.

Trying to be understanding, you even forced a smile when he recounted every interaction with Lia, assuring yourself that this phase would pass.

But just as you began to convince yourself that you had your emotions in check, things took an unexpected turn. Hyunjin, who had always insisted on walking you to class, suddenly approached you with an apologetic expression.

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry, but I can't walk you to class anymore." He admitted, avoiding eye contact.

The unexpected blow left you momentarily speechless, "What? Why?"

Hyunjin sighed, looking genuinely conflicted, "It's just... I don't want Lia to misunderstand our relationship. I mean, she might think there's something more between us, you know?"

Your initial shock gave way to a slow-burning frustration. While you wanted to be supportive of his budding romance, the abrupt change felt like a direct hit to the heart. The walks to class, once a cherished routine, now seemed like a relic of a time when your friendship hadn't been overshadowed by romantic entanglements.

Forcing a tight smile, you responded, "Sure, Hyunjin. Do whatever makes you comfortable."

As he walked away, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, you felt a sense of abandonment. The once-predictable rhythms of your friendship were now distorted, and the realisation that you were no longer a priority stung more than you cared to admit.

Felix, perceptive as ever, noticed the change in your demeanour. As he joined you in the hallway, he raised an eyebrow, "What's up with Hyunjin? I thought he was going to walk you to class."

You sighed, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy on your shoulders, "He said he can't anymore. Doesn't want Lia to get the wrong idea about us."

Felix's expression shifted from curiosity to a mixture of understanding and concern, "I know this is tough, but maybe he's just caught up in the excitement of his first crush. It doesn't mean he values your friendship any less."

You nodded, acknowledging his attempt to console you, "I get that, but it still hurts, you know? It's like our friendship is being redefined, and I don't know where I fit in anymore."

Felix offered a sympathetic smile, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "Give it time. I'm sure things will settle down eventually. And in the meantime, you've got me. We'll figure it out together."

As Hyunjin's infatuation with Lia intensified, you found yourself grappling with the remnants of the once-familiar routine that now seemed like a distant memory.

One afternoon, as the final school bell echoed through the hallways, you made your way to the usual meeting spot where you and Hyunjin would walk home together. However, your anticipation gave way to disappointment as you saw him engrossed in conversation with Lia, the two of them making plans to spend time together after school.

Felix, who had been watching your expression closely, slung an arm around your shoulder, "Hey, don't let it get to you. You know, it's okay to feel upset."

"I'm not upset." You retorted, but the hurt in your eyes betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

Felix raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips, "You can't fool me, idiot. It's written all over your face. You miss your walks home with him, don't you?"

You sighed, giving in to the acknowledgement of your feelings, "Yeah, I guess I do. It's stupid, though. Friends hang out with other people. It's not a big deal."

Felix squeezed your shoulder gently, "It's okay to feel this way, you know. And there's nothing 'stupid' about it. You're allowed to miss your friend."

As you walked home with Felix that day, the silence between you spoke volumes. The absence of Hyunjin, once a comforting presence by your side, left a void that seemed to echo with the uncertainty of changing friendships.

The following days only deepened the ache.

Your attempts to be the supportive friend, cheering Hyunjin on as he pursued Lia, felt increasingly like a façade. The more you tried to suppress your feelings, the more they seemed to claw at the edges of your consciousness.

It was during one of your late-night conversations with Felix, the dim glow of streetlights casting shadows on your faces, that he broached the subject with a keen intuition that caught you off guard.

"You know," Felix said, his gaze fixed on the stars above, "It's possible you're jealous because you have feelings for Hyunjin."

Your immediate reaction was a vehement denial. How could you harbour romantic feelings for your childhood friend, especially when you had always prided yourself on being the voice of reason within the trio?

Oh hell nah, ain't no freaking way.

But as Felix turned to look at you, his eyes filled with understanding, you felt a sudden vulnerability. Despite your initial resistance, you couldn't escape the possibility that he was right. Your feelings for Hyunjin might indeed transcend the boundaries of friendship.

"What? Are you hearing yourself, Lix? That's insane!" You laughed incredulously, dismissing his implication with a wave of your hand. The idea of having romantic feelings for Hyunjin seemed preposterous to you, and you were determined to push aside any inkling of such emotions.

Felix, however, frowned at your attempt to brush off the subject. He could sense the unease beneath your laughter, the subtle deflection in your words, "I know you better than you think. You can't deny what you're feeling."

You scoffed, refusing to let his words penetrate your resolve, "Me? Having feelings for Hwang Hyunjin? Did you hit your head or something?" You chuckled, playing off the notion as absurd.

But as you met Felix's serious expression, you recognised the gravity of the situation. He was about to talk some sense into you, to unravel the emotions you had been desperately trying to suppress. But before he could utter a word, you beat him to it.

"Just watch me, Lix. I'll prove you wrong." Your tone carried a determined edge, a promise to yourself that you could navigate these confusing emotions without succumbing to what seemed like an inconvenient truth.

Felix sighed heavily, realising that there was little he could do if you were determined to turn a blind eye to your own feelings. He knew that sometimes, facing the truth required a vulnerability that not everyone was ready to embrace.

As you gathered for your breakfast routine one morning, Hyunjin began his usual recounting of Lia's latest escapades, and you found yourself unable to bear it any longer.

"Hyunjin," You interrupted, the words escaping before you could reconsider, "I'm sick of seeing you pine after Lia. It's distracting, and I can't focus on anything else. So, I've decided to help you win her heart."

Ecstasy washed over his face, "Really? You'd help me?"

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, "Yeah, I mean, why not? You deserve to be happy, right?"

Hyunjin's eyes lit up, and he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, "Thank you! You're the best! I'll buy you the next Assassin's Creed game when Lia agrees to be my girlfriend!"

As he cheered, Felix observed the scene with a mixture of disbelief and realisation. It dawned on him that your seemingly selfless act of playing matchmaker wasn't entirely altruistic. A smirk played on his lips as he shook his head, understanding the true motive behind your plan.

"So, this was your way of proving me wrong, huh?" Felix remarked, his voice carrying a note of amusement.

You avoided his gaze, the charade now exposed, "I just want him to be happy. That's all."

Felix chuckled, seeing through the act, "Sure. Just remember, you can't run from your feelings forever."

Later that evening, you walked home with Hyunjin for the first time in what felt like ages. But the reason behind his company left a bitter taste in your mouth. It wasn't because he missed your walks or longed for the friendship you once shared. No, the only reason was to strategise about his mission to win Lia's heart.

As you strolled down the sidewalk, Hyunjin excitedly started talking about his plan, "So, I was thinking maybe I should join some clubs or events that she's interested in. What do you think?"

You pushed all unnecessary thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand, "Sure, that sounds like a good idea. We need to figure out what she likes and find a way for you to connect with her."

The mention of 'we' felt strangely out of place, a reminder of the changed dynamics between you and Hyunjin. Nevertheless, you pushed those feelings aside, determined to help your friend succeed in his pursuit of happiness.

Felix, who had been watching the interaction with an amused smirk, couldn't resist commenting, "Look at you two, planning Hyunjin's love story. Who would've thought?"

You shot him a glare, not appreciating the smugness in his tone, "This is for Hyunjin, Lix, not for your amusement."

Felix raised his hands defensively, "Alright, alright. I'm just enjoying the show."

As you neared your doorstep, you took a deep breath, ready to lay out a rough plan for Hyunjin, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. First, we need to find out more about Lia's hobbies and interests. Once we have that information, we can create opportunities for you to interact with her in a more meaningful way."

Hyunjin nodded eagerly, trusting you with the details of his mission, "Leave it all to you. You're the best."

As you arrived at your doorstep, Hyunjin gave you a thankful hug before skipping off to his home just a few blocks away. Sighing deeply, you feel a twinge of emptiness. The hug felt different, less like a shared moment between friends and more like a transaction—gratitude for a service rendered.

With renewed determination, you wasted no time. The moment you stepped inside your room, you pulled out your phone and began stalking all of Lia's social media accounts. Your mission was clear: decipher her likes, dislikes, and everything in between.

Little did you know that this quest, seemingly straightforward, would lead you down a path of self-discovery and unexpected twists, challenging the boundaries of friendship and forcing you to confront emotions you had long been trying to ignore.

As the days unfolded, you immersed yourself in the role of the ultimate wingman. Your efforts to assist Hyunjin in winning Lia's heart were meticulous, each action carefully calculated to showcase his best qualities. Despite the outward display of support, a quiet turmoil brewed within you, a storm of conflicting emotions that threatened to break through the carefully constructed façade.

In your quest to prove Felix wrong, you inadvertently delved deeper into the complexities of your own heart. The more you tried to suppress the whispers of your own feelings, the more they seemed to echo in the quiet moments of self-reflection.

As Felix watched you navigate this internal struggle, he wished you would just confront the truth instead of burying it beneath the guise of friendship.

With your careful planning and Hyunjin's sincere efforts, you watched as he began to get things right. He made it a point to learn about Lia's favourite snacks and beverages, surprising her with thoughtful treats that garnered appreciative smiles. Conversations shifted from superficial exchanges to discussions about her favourite pastime activities, creating a connection that seemed to grow with every shared moment.

You watched from afar as he transformed himself, aligning with the qualities he knew she admired. He became more attentive, more considerate, and tailored his actions to better appeal to the type of guys she was attracted to.

While the genuine nature of his intentions was evident, each successful move felt like another layer of separation between the Hyunjin you knew and the person he was becoming for Lia.

Then came the pivotal moment.

Fueled by newfound confidence, he approached Lia and managed to ask her out on a date. From the way he pumped his fists in the air in victory, it was clear that she said yes. As he turned around to look for you, a beaming smile on his face, he spotted you observing the scene. With a thumbs up and eyes filled with excitement, he acknowledged your silent support.

Despite the clenching in your heart, you smiled back and clapped, showing him that you were genuinely happy for his success. The internal conflict between your desire to see your friend happy and the undeniable twinge of discomfort lingered in the background.

It was a bittersweet moment, a celebration of his triumph in love, overshadowed by the realisation that the dynamics of your friendship had undergone a significant shift.

During lunch, the three of you gathered as usual, but the atmosphere was tinged with an unspoken tension. As you sat with your tray, Felix shot you a look, his expression a mix of disapproval and concern. You avoided his eyes, focusing on your food and pretending not to notice his silent judgment.

The news of Hyunjin and Lia's upcoming first date buzzed around the table, and despite the apparent excitement, Felix's gaze lingered on you. He wished you knew that he was only trying to protect you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. Deep down, he feared that all this effort might lead to you getting hurt in the end.

As the conversation flowed, Felix couldn't contain his disapproval any longer, "So, playing matchmaker seems to be working well for you and Hyunjin." He remarked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

You glanced up, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before averting your gaze, "Yeah, I guess it is."

Felix sighed, the concern etched on his face, "I hope you know what you're doing. Playing with emotions is a risky game."

You could sense the genuine worry in his words, but a stubborn determination held you captive. You knew there was a risk involved, but you've already come this far. It was as if a self-imposed obligation drove you to see this through until the end, no matter the consequences.

As the lunch bell rang, signalling the end of the break, Felix shot you one last look—a mix of caution and understanding. The unspoken conversation between you two lingered in the air, a silent acknowledgement of the uncertainties that lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself for what was to come. The journey you embarked upon had no clear destination, but one thing was certain: you're committed to helping Hyunjin until the end.

As the final bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, you gathered your belongings, preparing to head home. Just as you were about to make your way through the crowded hallway, Hyunjin rushed up to you, grabbing your wrist in his haste. Startled, he twisted you around, and for a brief moment, your eyes rounded at the close proximity between your faces.

His eyes widened in realisation, and he immediately stepped back, stammering, "S-sorry, I was just—"

You shook your head, feigning nonchalance despite the racing of your heart, "It's fine, what is it?"

Hyunjin beamed at your question, his initial awkwardness dissipating, "I need your help in picking an outfit for my date this weekend."

You ignored the sharp stab you felt in your heart at the cruel reminder. Suppressing your emotions, you nodded, "Of course, I'll send you some ideas tonight."

But he shook his head, a hopeful glint in his eyes, "No, I was hoping you could come over before the date and help me put together something nice...?"

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected request, "Why not get Felix to help you with that?"

Hyunjin pouted, swinging your arm around playfully, "Oh, come on, you're the one who promised to help me until the end, right?"

Sighing, you realised he was right. It was your commitment, not Felix's. Relenting, you nodded, "Alright, fine. Sheesh. I'll see you then."

Hyunjin cheered, thanking you profusely before running off, presumably heading to spend time with Lia. As he disappeared into the crowd, you couldn't shake off the lingering discomfort that settled in your chest.

Hang in there, you can do this.

Standing in front of the mirror, you scrutinised yourself for the umpteenth time before questioning your actions. Why did it matter how you looked to Hyunjin? After all, you'd literally grown up together, and he'd seen you at your best and worst. The reflection staring back at you seemed to mock the unnecessary anxiety that had settled in.

The sound of your phone's notifications going off snapped you out of your thoughts. Unlocking the device, you found texts from both Hyunjin and Felix. Hyunjin's message was playful, urging you to hurry over, 'Bestie, get your ass over here already!!!😭'

Felix's text, however, carried a different tone, one of understanding and support, 'Hyunjin told me you're going over to help him. I know nothing I say can change your mind, but I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I'll be here for you.'

Reading Felix's words nearly brought tears to your eyes. It was a reminder of the loneliness that came with keeping these feelings to yourself. In that moment, you realise the weight of the emotions you've chosen to carry alone. But there was no one else to blame; you made the choice yourself, and now it was time to finish what you started.

With a deep breath, you locked your phone and shook off the lingering self-doubt. Adjusting your outfit one final time, you muttered a quiet affirmation to yourself and headed towards Hyunjin's house.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by his infectious excitement, "Finally, you're here! I need your expert fashion advice."

Suppressing the internal turmoil, you forced a smile, "Alright, let's get this over with."

As you entered his room, surrounded by the familiar scent of his space, you felt a twinge of nostalgia. The memories of your friendship flooded back, but now, they were tainted with a layer of complexity.

The process of picking an outfit began, with you providing suggestions and Hyunjin trying on various combinations. Looking at him more closely now, you hated that you suddenly found him so attractive.

You watched as he struggled with some of the buttons on his shirt before looking up at you with a pout, "Some help would be nice?"

His request cut through the air, and you couldn't hide the inward sigh. The situation was already complicated enough, and now he was making things even more difficult. Rolling your eyes in a feigned display of annoyance, you walked up to him, determined to maintain a facade of indifference.

As you carefully worked through the buttons, your concentration remained fixed on the task at hand. Hyunjin, however, couldn't help but let his gaze remain on you. His eyes naturally drifted downward, taking in the familiar sight of you deep in focus. At that moment, he found you adorable, with your tongue poking out from the corner of your lips and a small frown between your eyes.

Huh, guess not much has changed.

Standing up close, he began to notice details he hadn't paid attention to before. Your eyelashes were surprisingly long, framing expressive eyes that held a history of shared laughter and secrets. The baby fat in your cheeks had disappeared after the braces, leaving behind a more defined and mature look. He also noticed how pink and soft your lips appeared.

The realisation hit him like a wave—have you always looked this pretty? The question lingered in his mind, surprising even himself with the depth of observation he was suddenly making. It wasn't that he hadn't considered your attractiveness before, but in this moment, with the proximity and the shared history, it became more pronounced.

Finished with the last button, you stepped back, offering a casual comment, "There. All set."

Your best friend, however, remained silent for a moment, his thoughts still lingering on the newfound awareness of your features. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, unspoken sentiments hanging between you two.

Standing at his doorstep, Hyunjin, ready to go on his date with Lia, smiled down at you, "Thank you for your time and effort," You shook your head, "No worries, good luck and have fun." But as you turned to leave, a peculiar sense of unease settled in him; it didn't feel right watching you go by yourself.

Before you could take more than a few steps, you were surprised to find him beside you, matching your pace, "What are you doing? You'll be late if you don't go now."

He shrugged, unable to fully grasp his own actions but feeling the need to do this, "It's fine, Lia can wait a bit. I'll walk you home. You came all this way to help me. It's the least I could do."

Your heart skipped a beat at that gesture. For the first time since Lia entered your lives, he was putting you first, prioritising you over her. But the conflicting emotions only intensified; it wasn't making things any easier for you.

Reaching your home, you shooed him with a teasing smile, "Alright, I'm home safe. Now, hurry and go get your dream girl."

He smiled back but didn't move from his spot. You shook your head and playfully pushed him, "Go, you idiot. What are you—"

Suddenly, he pulled you into his arms for a hug, his lips close to your ear, "She may be my dream girl right now, but you'll always be my number one."

Your breath hitched at those unexpected words. Before you could react, he pulled away and ran off, leaving you standing there, a mix of confusion and warmth swirling within.

Stop doing this to me, Hwang Hyunjin.

The restaurant was adorned with soft lights and a pleasant ambience, the perfect setting for a romantic evening.

But Hyunjin was struggling to enjoy his first date with Lia as much as he had anticipated. Despite having dreamed of dating her for so long, his mind seemed to be preoccupied with thoughts that he couldn't fully understand.

As Lia spoke, sharing stories and laughter, he felt a subtle distraction, his mind involuntarily drifting back to you. It was as if a veil had been lifted, and he found himself unknowingly comparing his date to you. Of course, Lia was undeniably beautiful, a fact that anyone with functioning eyes could see. But she just wasn't... you? He didn't know about anyone else, but to him, you were prettier.

Realising the direction of his thoughts, Hyunjin mentally slapped himself for disrespecting Lia in such a way. Determined to salvage the date, he forced himself to focus on what she was saying, pushing away the distracting comparisons.

However, as the evening unfolded, he couldn't shake off the subtle feeling that the date wasn't going as well as he'd expected. He blamed himself for the disconnect, fully aware that he was the one responsible for the disarray of his own emotions.

Attempting to be present in the moment, he engaged in conversation, trying to enjoy the company of the girl he had dreamt of for so long. But the shadow of conflicting thoughts persisted, casting a pall over what should have been a joyful and momentous occasion.

As the night progressed, Hyunjin found himself immersed in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. Despite his efforts to be present on his dream date with Lia, a growing sense of unease crept in. The realisation dawned on him like a quiet storm—he wasn't being entirely honest with her, and perhaps, more importantly, he wasn't being true to himself.

The version of himself that Lia had come to like was a meticulously crafted persona, tailored to fit her preferences. They engaged in activities she enjoyed, ate food she liked, and talked about subjects that captivated her. He even dressed in a way that he believed appealed to her tastes. In the process, he wondered if Lia liked him for who he truly was or merely for the version of himself he had presented to win her over.

If he were to be himself, would Lia have liked him at all? The sincerity of their interactions seemed to be overshadowed by the facade he constructed. It made him question the authenticity of their connection.

Aside from that, a more profound doubt surfaced—he questioned whether he genuinely liked Lia for who she was or if he was just infatuated with the idea of her. Was he captivated by the fantasy he created in his mind, rather than the reality of the person sitting across from him?

That night, the weight of the evening's revelations lingered as he collapsed onto his bed after sending Lia home.

Sighing heavily, he thought about the missed opportunity. He hadn't kissed her goodbye like he used to imagine. Instead, all he managed was a simple 'goodnight, see you at school next week' before leaving her doorstep. It wasn't the romantic farewell he envisioned, but the weight of his internal conflicts restrained him.

In the solitude of his room, he decided that it was time for a change. He acknowledged that the version of himself he'd presented to Lia wasn't sustainable, nor was it fair to either of them. With a newfound resolve, he made a decision—he would give her another chance, but this time, he wanted to be genuine, to be himself.

Perhaps, if he allowed Lia to see the real him, and if he took the time to genuinely understand her, there might be a chance for something more authentic to blossom between them.

With this resolve in mind, Hyunjin closed his eyes, attempting to push all thoughts of you out of his mind. You were his best friend, and he had to remind himself of that fact. As sleep claimed him, he envisioned a future where the real him and the real Lia could find common ground, unburdened by the illusions that initially clouded their connection.

The following week at school, you and Felix were surprised by Hyunjin's demeanour. He didn't exhibit the expected excitement that typically followed a successful first date. Instead, he seemed to have reverted to his previous self, the Hyunjin you knew before the Lia obsession took centre stage.

Your surprise was evident when, out of the blue, Hyunjin began walking you to class again. His laughter rang out as he snickered at the puzzled expression on your face, and without warning, he playfully ruffled your hair, "Stop looking at me like that." He teased.

In response, you whined and swatted his hand away, "Not the hair, you jerk!"

His laughter continued, a sound you've missed, and he couldn't hide his happiness at seeing this side of you again. Deep down, he knew he pushed you away with his previous behaviour. Slipping an arm around your shoulder, he spoke, "Look, I'm sorry for the way I behaved previously. I know you must've been hurt. I promise to make it up to you."

Before you could inquire about the details of his date with Lia and the sudden change in his attitude, you arrived at your class. He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly before leaving, "See you at lunch."

You nodded, still slightly confused but undeniably happy. Maybe the date didn't go as well as he'd hoped? The possibility filled you with hope, and you couldn't shake the optimism that bubbled within. You found yourself looking forward to lunchtime, eager to uncover the mysteries behind his change of heart.

The lunchtime rendezvous brought an air of anticipation as the three of you gathered at your usual spot. Despite Hyunjin's seemingly improved attitude, a sense of unease lingered in the air.

As you exchanged casual banter, he finally broached the subject, "Guys, there's something I want to talk to you about." His tone carried a weight that immediately caught your attention.

"I've been thinking," Hyunjin continued, his gaze shifting between you and Felix, "About Lia. I want to take a different approach with her. I've decided to be myself, the real me, around her. I want her to like me for who I truly am."

Your heart sank at his words, a sinking feeling of déjà vu washing over you. The hope that had briefly ignited was swiftly extinguished. It became clear that Hyunjin's newfound determination was geared toward pursuing a more genuine connection with Lia. While on the surface, it seemed like a positive step, the implications were disheartening.

Felix, however, expressed his support, "That's a great decision, Jinnie. Be yourself, and if she likes you for who you are, that's even better."

While Felix's words were encouraging, his eyes betrayed a different sentiment. They shifted to you, a subtle expression of concern. He understood the implications of Hyunjin's decision, knowing how you probably felt at that moment.

Another week passed, and Hyunjin, beaming with pride, announced to you and Felix that he was going on a second date with Lia. While you feigned happiness for him, Felix saw through the facade. The strain of suppressing your true feelings became apparent, and Felix, unable to watch you suffer in silence, decided it was time to intervene.

On the night of Hyunjin's second date, Felix took it upon himself to keep you company and distract you from your thoughts. Together, you baked brownies and indulged in a fun movie night. As the credits rolled on the screen and the room dimmed, he turned to see you staring numbly ahead, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

Sighing, he reached across and placed his hands over yours, "Talk to me, please. I want to be there for you. Why do you keep doing this to yourself? What are you trying so hard to prove, hm?"

The concerned look in your best friend's eyes finally broke through the walls you'd built around your emotions. With a heavy exhale, you crumbled, unable to hold back the feelings that had been festering within.

"It's just... I don't understand why I'm doing this to myself," You admitted, "I keep pretending to be okay, to be happy for him, but every time he talks about Lia, it just hurts. I don't know why I'm trying so hard to prove something. Maybe I'm just scared of losing him, of things changing between us."

Felix listened attentively, his grip on your hands offering both support and reassurance, "You don't have to go through this alone, you know?" He said softly, "It's okay to feel the way you do, and it's okay to talk about it."

With those words, the floodgates opened, and you poured out the conflicting emotions that had been plaguing you, "You were right... I guess I do have feelings for him."

Felix listened with a soft, understanding smile, his eyes reflecting a sense of calm assurance. He wasn't at all surprised by the revelation, having sensed the undercurrents of your emotions for some time.

"I don't even know when it started or why I feel this way," You confessed, your voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and vulnerability, "Hyunjin has been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and suddenly everything feels so complicated."

Felix squeezed your hand, "It's okay, you know. Feelings can be messy, and they don't always follow a logical timeline. What matters is that you're opening up about it now. You don't have to do this alone, and I'm here for you, no matter what."

He smiled softly, a reassuring warmth in his gaze. Felix didn't have all the answers, and he knew that unravelling the complexities of emotions wasn't a straightforward task. But he was determined to be the support you needed, offering a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on, and a friend who understood.

Meanwhile, on his date with Lia, Hyunjin couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off.

Lia was a nice girl, but as the evening went on, he began to realise that she might not be exactly his type at all. It wasn't something he consciously thought about before, but as he spent time with her, he couldn't help comparing her to you again.

You, with your unladylike antics that he always teased you about but secretly cherished. Lia, in contrast, seemed different, and the more he pondered on it, the more he realised that different wasn't necessarily what he was looking for. He missed the easy banter and shared interests he had with you and Felix.

During their conversation, he noticed how Lia appeared bored or uninterested whenever he brought up stories about you and Felix. It struck him that, unlike your friendship, their discussions seemed one-sided, revolving mostly around Lia and her interests.

As she excused herself to the bathroom, he took the opportunity to check his phone.

Scrolling through Instagram, he stumbled upon Felix's story. The images and captions painted a vivid picture of a cosy evening filled with laughter—something he found himself envious of. At that moment, he realised that he wanted to be there with you.

As Lia returned from the bathroom, he felt that something was missing, and for the first time, he questioned whether pursuing a relationship with her was the right path for him.

Determined to move on from your feelings for Hyunjin, you decided to refocus on the things that once brought you joy – your love for gaming. Despite Hyunjin's announcement of giving up on Lia, a part of you understood that he was and would always be nothing more than your best friend.

Regardless of how things worked out with Lia, your feelings for Hyunjin would remain unrequited.

Returning to the library's gaming section, you immersed yourself in the digital worlds that always provided comfort. It was there that you met Seungmin, a fellow gamer who shared your passion for virtual adventures. The two of you quickly bonded over your favourite games, strategies, and the thrill of defeating virtual foes together.

Felix noticed the positive change in your demeanour and was relieved to see you returning to your usual self again. The laughter and excitement you shared with Seungmin during gaming sessions became a refreshing break from the emotional complexities that had weighed on you.

However, Hyunjin struggled to come to terms with the shift. Every mention of Seungmin stirred an unsettling feeling within him. He found it hard to reconcile the fact that you were forming a connection with someone else, and it left him grappling with emotions he hadn't anticipated.

Despite the internal turmoil, he understood that your happiness was most important. He tried to be supportive, but the subtle twinge of discomfort lingered whenever Seungmin's name came up.

After school, you excitedly ran up to Hyunjin and Felix, who were waiting for you by the school gates, "Hey, losers, sorry I can't walk home with you guys today. Go on without me; I'll see y'all tomorrow!"

Before you could dash off, Hyunjin's brows furrowed, and he reached for your wrist. Twisting you around, the moment felt like déjà vu from the day you helped him with his outfit. Both your eyes widened at the sudden proximity, and Felix cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away.

Hyunjin blinked rapidly before sputtering, "Wh-where do you think you're going, young lady? Your parents will be worried if you don't go home now."

You pulled away from him, rolling your eyes to feign nonchalance, "Jinnie, please. Do you think I'm you? My parents already know I'll be out after school today," Felix chortled to help lighten the atmosphere, "Hate to admit it, but she's right, bro."

Hyunjin scoffed, "Well, I'm just worried. You know how clumsy you can get," Before you could respond, Seungmin called your name from behind, and you beamed, "Don't worry, Seungmin will take care of me." He didn't like the sound of that one bit.

Just as he tried to stop you from going to Seungmin, Felix grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"Let her go."

Hyunjin didn't understand why it felt like those three words held a deeper meaning. He watched as you joined Seungmin, the two of you walking away, laughter floating back towards them. Felix turned to Hyunjin, his expression unreadable.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Hyunjin couldn't shake the unease that settled within him as he continued to watch your retreating figures. It was a feeling he couldn't quite define, and for the first time, he wondered if his worry for you went beyond the bounds of friendship.

As the two boys walked home, Hyunjin couldn't shake the lingering discomfort. The unease prompted him to turn to Felix, needing some clarity on the matter.

"Hey, what do you think about Seungmin?" Hyunjin asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Felix smiled knowingly, understanding the source of the inquiry, "Seungmin? He's a good guy. He's not just a gamer; he's dedicated to his studies too. I've noticed he's had a positive influence on our bestie, encouraging her to study harder as well."

Hyunjin nodded, absorbing Felix's words. He tried to accept his friend's reasoning and rationalise the situation for himself. Why was he feeling so unhappy about this anyway? Felix seemed just fine with your new friendship and even supportive of it.

Perhaps he should learn to be the same.

"Yeah, you're right," Hyunjin replied, forcing a smile, "I guess it's good that she's found someone who gets her interest."

Felix clapped him on the back, "Exactly! Seungmin seems like a genuine guy. Let's just be happy for her."

Hyunjin nodded again, attempting to bury the unease and be supportive like Felix. But deep down, a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing something, something intangible yet significant, and the journey to fully understand those emotions had just begun.

Meanwhile, you made a conscious effort to push aside the thoughts and emotions stirred up by the encounter with Hyunjin.

As you walked alongside Seungmin, chatting about the latest game releases, you couldn't escape the replay of the moment when Hyunjin grabbed your wrist. Your heart still raced as you wondered about the desperation in his eyes.

Could he be... jealous?

Did he feel the same way about you, or was it just a reaction to your attention being diverted from him and Felix? Rationalising, you convinced yourself that it was probably the latter. After all, Hwang Hyunjin, the charismatic and charming friend, couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. It was safer to assume that he wasn't used to your attention being on someone other than him and Felix.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that you needed to save yourself from further misery. The idea of Hyunjin shifting his focus to another girl loomed in your mind. Sure, the Lia phase was over, but he could very well set his eyes on someone new at any time.

Perhaps it was time to guard your heart, to protect yourself from potential heartache. Resolute in your decision, you pushed aside the uncertainty and focused on Seungmin, someone who seemed genuinely interested in you for who you were.

Despite your best efforts, you found your mind involuntarily comparing Seungmin to Hyunjin, and you mentally scolded yourself for these incessant thoughts.

Urging yourself to stop these comparisons, you recognised that if your feelings for Hyunjin weren't clouding your judgment, you might have fallen for Seungmin instantly. He was everything you could want in a guy – your dream guy, to be precise.

Seungmin shared the same interests, hobbies, and principles as you did. He was attentive, considerate, and almost perfect for you. Although he might not have been conventionally the ideal type for most, he fits your ideal perfectly. So close to perfection, if only he was... Hwang Hyunjin.

You snapped out of your thoughts when Seungmin called your name, informing you that he would be back in a bit as he went to collect your food order. You softened at his gentlemanly gesture, realising that you were being unfair to him by comparing him to Hyunjin. Seungmin was his own person, and you were determined to appreciate and like him for who he truly was.

The realisation hit you hard, and you resolved to give Seungmin the attention and consideration he deserved. After all, he had done nothing but show kindness and genuine interest in you.

Seungmin walked you home that evening after a day filled with fun and laughter. Arriving at your doorstep, you turned to him in gratitude, "Thank you so much for walking me home. Gosh, you really didn't have to. It'll be late by the time you get home."

He grinned, teasing, "Aww, are you worrying about me?"

You scoffed, "What if I am? It can be dangerous to be out late alone."

Unable to resist, he wrapped you in a hug. You stilled for a moment before lifting your hands to hold onto him, "You have no idea how happy I am that you care this much about me." He admitted, and you couldn't suppress your smile at his words.

"Of course, I care about you, Kim Seungmin. What kind of friend would I be not to?" You replied as he pulled away, a genuine warmth in your words.

He seemed to contemplate something before gathering the courage to ask, "H-hey, I was wondering... are you free this Saturday?"

Just as you were about to answer, a new voice interrupted you both, "No, she's not. She has plans with me, sorry." said Hyunjin, standing nearby and staring coldly at Seungmin. The unexpected interruption caught you off guard.

You glared at Hyunjin, annoyed by his sudden intrusion, "What? No, I don't." You retorted, not appreciating his assumption.

Hyunjin seemed hurt by your swift rejection, but trying to save his pride, he added, "Yes, you do. Felix got us tickets to see the latest Marvel superhero movie."

Furrowing your brows, you couldn't recall Felix mentioning any of these plans, "He did?" You questioned, feeling a bit perplexed.

Seungmin, aware that Hyunjin was your close friend, decided to be the bigger person, "That's alright, perhaps another time. I have to get home anyway. I'll see you at school." He said diplomatically, not wanting to leave a bad impression.

You nodded quickly, feeling bad about Hyunjin's borderline rude behaviour, "Text me when you get home, yeah?"

"I will." He beamed and patted your head affectionately before walking away. Hyunjin fumed from his corner, observing you watching Seungmin leave until he was out of sight. The tension lingered, leaving you with a mix of frustration and confusion as you turned your attention back to Hyunjin.

"Dude, what the hell was that?!"

Hyunjin rolled his eyes in annoyance, "What? Are you so upset that you don't get to go out with your little boyfriend again?" He retorted with a dismissive tone.

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden attitude, "Seungmin's not my—" You paused and took a deep breath, not wanting to entertain his childish behaviour, "What are you even doing here in the first place, Hyunjin? Did Felix really get us movie tickets this weekend?"

He gulped and looked away, unable to meet your eyes. That answered your question; he lied about the tickets. You sighed, growing tired of the drama, "I don't have time for this. If you won't talk, then I'm leaving."

Turning to enter your house, he quickly grabbed your wrist.

No, not again.

You distanced yourself before he could pull you close to him, determined to protect your heart.

But he couldn't hold back any longer. Frowning at the distance you deliberately put between you two, he exploded, "I've had it, alright? What's gotten into you all of a sudden? Seungmin this, Seungmin that! I'm sick of hearing about him! Do you even care about me and Felix anymore?"

You laughed humourlessly at those words, tears welling up in your eyes, "So, now you know how it feels, huh?"

He froze at that, realising the hypocrisy of his actions.

Wiping your tears harshly with your sleeves, you continued, "How selfish can you be, Hwang Hyunjin? I kept quiet and supported you while you obsessed over Lia, even when you pushed me aside. And now that I've found someone I like, you can't accept it?"

He gulped and lowered his head in shame.

"So it's alright if you do it, but when I do it, it's outrageous and unacceptable, huh? I see how it is."

Not wanting to hear another word from him, you stalked into your home and slammed the door shut, leaving him outside, confronted by the consequences of his actions.

The following day at school, you refused to speak to Hyunjin. When he attempted to chase after you and confront you, Felix stopped him with a serious expression that revealed he knew more than he let on. Stepping aside, the two of them finally decided to address the elephant in the room.

Felix began with a sigh, "She told me what happened last night."

Hyunjin avoided his friend's eye contact, feeling a deep sense of shame. This was a repeat of what happened with you before, but now it was Hyunjin's turn to feel the weight of his actions. Felix deduced that Hyunjin must have returned your feelings, seeing his reaction to Seungmin's appearance in your life.

"You know, it hurt her more than anyone for you to say those things to her," Felix explained, his tone serious, "It's extremely unfair to her. How you felt seeing her with Seungmin, was what she went through when you had Lia. But she kept it all in and suffered alone. She didn't even confide in me. I had to beg her to lean on me, seeing how much it affected her."

Hyunjin felt an overwhelming wave of guilt with this revelation. He had guessed that you'd be hurt, but he didn't fully understand the extent of it until he experienced it himself. He neglected you even more than he realised.

Goddamnit, I'm a horrible friend.

Felix, tired of all the charades, wanted his best friend to wake up to his own feelings. Firmly, he began, "Hyunjin, I want you to think carefully about this."

Hyunjin looked up at Felix's determined gaze, anticipating what he was about to say.

"Do you think that perhaps the reason you're this upset is because you have feelings for her?" Felix asked pointedly.

Hyunjin froze. The thought constantly lingered in the back of his mind, but he always refused to acknowledge it, let alone voice it out loud. It felt like it wasn't supposed to happen. After all, he had known you since you were all in diapers; you'd grown up side by side. How could it be possible that all of a sudden, he would be seeing you in a different light?

With Felix asking this question, Hyunjin knew the feelings must have been there for his friend to see through in the first place.

That would explain why he had been so unhappy to see you with Seungmin, especially when Felix seemed less than bothered by it. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt a mixture of confusion, denial, and a hint of something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Felix placed a hand on Hyunjin's shoulder, "I know it sounds crazy, but deep down, I trust you know the answer better than anyone else. Just... take your time and figure it out before deciding how you want to approach her. Whatever happens, I'm here for you, alright buddy?"

Hyunjin nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Felix." The weight of the realisation hung heavy in the air, and he couldn't deny that he needed to confront his feelings, as confusing and unexpected as they were.

As Felix walked away, Hyunjin took a deep breath, grappling with the newfound awareness that his emotions for you might be more complicated than he ever imagined.

During lunch, you decided to be the bigger person and chose not to ignore Hyunjin any longer. Instead, you opted to act like nothing had happened. You didn't want any confrontation and wished only to move on from the drama. Thankfully, Hyunjin didn't pester you, especially with Felix sending him warning looks.

As you sat down, you engaged in casual conversation with both of them, discussing topics that steered clear of any emotional tension.

Hyunjin found relief in the momentary peace.

He realised that this was for the best, a chance for him to figure out his own feelings for you without the weight of recent events clouding his judgment. The lunch table, which had once been a source of joy and comfort, now felt like a battleground of unspoken emotions. He couldn't shake off the guilt, but he was determined to navigate through the complexities of his feelings.

Little did he know, you were also fighting with your emotions, doing your best to maintain a facade of normalcy for the sake of the friendship you cherished.

That weekend, Felix decided to make a genuine effort to lighten the atmosphere within your friend group. He went and bought movie tickets for real this time, hoping that this outing could serve as a reset button for all of you, despite the underlying emotional tension between you and Hyunjin.

As you approached the two of them, your usual cheerful self, Hyunjin fought to keep his heart still. You weren't necessarily dressed up for the occasion, but in his heightened awareness of his feelings for you, he couldn't deny that you looked beautiful to him no matter what you wore. He tried to pull himself together as you threw your arms over both their necks in a group hug.

He instinctively reached his hand over your back, holding you against him. At that moment, he closed his eyes, savouring the feeling of having you close. The warmth of your embrace and the subtle scent of your familiar perfume made it difficult for him to ignore the growing realisation that his feelings for you were deeper than he had ever acknowledged.

The movie outing, intended to bring back the carefree dynamic of your friendship, unknowingly became a pivotal moment in Hyunjin's self-discovery.

Felix observed you two knowingly, shaking his head at how oblivious you were to each other's feelings. While you attempted to maintain a distance, Hyunjin made every effort to close the gap, taking a step closer every chance he got. Despite your attempts to push him away, Felix could tell that it was becoming increasingly difficult for you to deny your own heart's desires.

Throughout the entire day, Hyunjin took care of you in every possible way. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted, handed you his jacket when the cinema hall got too cold, and even accompanied you to the washroom during the long movie.

You stared at him incredulously when he followed after you, whispering, "Jinnie, what are you doing? I'm fine going alone; I know where the washroom is."

He shushed you and gently pushed you out of the hall, saying, "I won't forgive myself if anything happens to you. Just let me do this."

Despite the flutter in your heart, you rolled your eyes and relented, "Ugh, fine. Don't blame me when you miss what happens in the movie later."

One of the cleaner ladies witnessing your banter chuckled, "Young lady, you have a wonderful boyfriend. You should let him take care of you if he wants to, not all men are like that nowadays."

Choking on your spit, you waved your hands at her, "N-no! You've got it all wrong, he's not my—"

Squishing your cheeks to disrupt your attempt to clarify, Hyunjin smiled politely at her before grinning mischievously down at you, "Listen to the kind lady, my love. She's right."

Once the lady was out of sight, you slapped his hand away with a glare, "You do that again, Hwang Hyunjin, and I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine."

He burst out laughing at the threat, and you struggled to suppress the smile forming on your face as you entered the washroom.

The outing continued, and Felix marvelled at how Hyunjin's actions were a silent testament to his growing feelings for you. It was as if he had unconsciously shifted into a more protective and caring mode. Felix exchanged glances with Hyunjin when you weren't looking, silently urging him to confront his emotions.

Hyunjin's attempts to get closer to you were evident. He lingered beside you during breaks, shared his snacks, and even stole a glance or two when he thought you weren't looking. Felix hoped that this could be the turning point for both of you.

By the end of the day, as you bid farewell, Hyunjin's eyes held a certain warmth that hadn't been there before. Felix smiled knowingly, hopeful that the walls both of you had built around your hearts might finally start to crumble.

The two boys walked you home that evening. Upon arriving at your doorstep, you turned to bid them goodbye, "Thanks, Lix, for the movie, and thanks, Jinnie, for the snacks. I had a good time with you losers." You said with a playful smile.

Felix laughed, giving you a warm hug, "You're welcome, idiot."

Hyunjin, not one to be outdone, waited for his turn. As his arms enveloped you, your face pressed against his shoulder, you hoped he couldn't hear the frantic beating of your heart. Little did you know, his own heart was racing just as fast. Squeezing you in his arms, he pressed a subtle kiss onto your head and whispered, "Anytime, cutie."

You blinked rapidly, feeling a sudden warmth spread through you. Felix cleared his throat, and Hyunjin reluctantly let you go. You smiled and waved at the two of them, "Alrighty then, I'll see you both at school."

Waving back, they turned to leave. Unbeknownst to Hyunjin, Felix caught him muttering a quiet, "Can't wait."

A week had passed and Hyunjin was just glad you no longer brought up Seungmin again, perhaps you've drifted apart from the boy? Whatever it was, he was just happy to not hear that name again.

Ah yes, things are finally returning to normal.

Or so he thought.

The cafeteria bustled with students, the usual hum of conversation filling the air as the three of you settled into your regular lunch spot. Hyunjin's eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward, suggesting an idea for the upcoming weekend.

"Hey, let's do something fun this Saturday! I heard there's this new arcade opened—"

Before he could finish, your sheepish smile and the gentle rub on your neck halted him, "Sorry, I won't be able to make it. You guys can go ahead without me though."

Hyunjin furrowed his brows, "What? Why not?"

You sighed, conflicted about sharing the information but recognising the necessity, "I'm... going on my first date with Seungmin."

His cheerful expression faltered, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and disappointment, "Seungmin? You're still seeing him?"

You nodded hesitantly, your gaze shifting away, "Yeah, we've been hanging out quite a bit lately, and he finally asked me out. I didn't want to bring it up, but since you asked..."

The atmosphere grew tense, and Felix, who was listening to the conversation, threw a concerned look at his friend. Hyunjin tried to put on a brave face, forcing a smile, "Oh, that's... that's great. I hope you have fun."

Felix intervened, sensing the underlying tension, "Well, we can reschedule our plans. No big deal."

You offered an apologetic smile, "Thanks, Lix. I really appreciate it."

Hyunjin forced a smile, trying to mask the discomfort he felt, "Yeah, go have a good time."

His gaze lingered longingly on your retreating figure as you left lunch early that day. The once-clear path of friendship now seemed muddled, and the excitement for the weekend plans felt overshadowed by heartache.

The streetlights cast elongated shadows on the sidewalk as Hyunjin walked home, his steps heavy with self-pity. His gaze was fixed on his phone screen, flipping through your Instagram stories with Seungmin. Felix, catching up to his despondent friend, slung an arm over Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Dude, why didn't you wait for me?" Felix asked, noticing Hyunjin's distraction.

Hyunjin didn't respond, lost in his thoughts. Felix glanced over and sighed when he saw your stories playing on Hyunjin's phone. Swiftly, he snatched the device out of his friend's hands.

"That's enough. Will you keep wasting away while the girl you like is out there with another guy? Aren't you going to do something about your feelings?" Felix's words were firm, a mix of concern and frustration.

Hyunjin, taking his phone back, continued trudging home, "What can I do, Lix? All she sees is Seungmin. It doesn't matter how I feel."

Without warning, Felix smacked him on the back of the head. Hyunjin froze, rubbing the back of his head as Felix continued walking.

"Is that what you think? So you're upset with her seeing Seungmin because you have feelings for her. You do realise she felt the same way seeing you with Lia, right? So, what does that tell you?" With those words hanging in the air, Felix left Hyunjin standing there, the pieces slowly falling into place in his mind.

Wait, does that mean she feels the same?

The soft chime of incoming messages interrupted your preparations for the date with Seungmin. You checked your phone to find a series of texts from Hyunjin, desperation evident in his words. He insisted that he needed to meet you urgently, that there was something important he needed to discuss.

Sighing, you considered ignoring him, determined to focus on your evening with Seungmin. But the messages continued to flood in, Hyunjin's pleas echoing through your phone. You were tired of the emotional rollercoaster, the constant back and forth.

Just as you were about to throw your phone aside, a few more texts flashed across the screen. Hyunjin persisted, wanting to talk to you, to meet with you, 'Please don't go to him.' Frustration welled up in you, but you maintained your resolve.

With a firmness that surprised even yourself, you replied, 'Enough, Hyunjin. I'm going on this date with Seungmin whether or not you like it. You're not stopping me this time.'

As you hit send, a text from Seungmin arrived, informing you that he had arrived.

Fixing your hair one last time, you took a deep breath and made a conscious decision to put thoughts of Hyunjin aside for the night. Tonight was about you and Seungmin, and you were determined to enjoy the evening without the interference of unresolved feelings.

Except it was harder than you think.

The cityscape sparkled with lights as you walked beside Seungmin. Despite the vibrant atmosphere and your date's engaging company, every corner of the city seemed to whisper memories of Hyunjin. You couldn't escape the nostalgia that flooded your mind, remembering the countless times you and your childhood friend had roamed these familiar streets together throughout the years.

It became a bitter realisation that, no matter how much you tried to focus on Seungmin, your mind wandered back to your best friend. The restaurants you passed, the park you strolled through, every place held echoes of shared moments with Hyunjin.

To make matters worse, your phone vibrated incessantly with continuous messages from him. Despite your decision to ignore him, his texts continued to flood in, each one a reminder of his persistence. It tugged at your heartstrings, making it harder to immerse yourself in the date.

As the night progressed, you found yourself in a constant battle between the present and the past, between Seungmin and Hyunjin.

Just why are you doing this to me?

Letting out a tired sigh, you pushed your phone back into your pocket after seeing yet another text from you-know-who. You managed a convincing smile for your date, trying to push away the distraction of Hyunjin's persistent texts. But Seungmin's concern was evident as he placed a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Hey, everything alright?" He asked, his eyes reflecting genuine care. Your heart twinged with guilt for letting your emotions surface so easily. Nodding your head, you quickly regained your composure.

"Yep, all good. Ooh, let's go see that over there!" You pointed towards an intriguing stall, its shelves filled with peculiar items. You hoped the novelty would distract Seungmin—and, in turn, yourself—from the underlying tension of the night.

As you both explored the colourful array of trinkets and curiosities, you did your best to be present, banishing the persistent thoughts of a certain someone. Little did you know, Seungmin observed your efforts with concern, hoping to make the evening memorable for you.

Fingers intertwined with yours, he gently tugged you away from the crowd to a quieter corner by the beautiful Hangang River. The distant city lights reflected on the water's surface, casting a serene glow on both of you.

There, you stumbled upon a talented busker passionately pouring their heart into a soulful melody. Seungmin's eyes sparkled with delight as he guided you to a spot where you could enjoy the performance undisturbed.

In that moment, surrounded by the soothing music and the gentle night breeze, you smiled shyly. His presence felt warm and comforting, and for an instant, all you could see was him. He truly was a great guy, someone who could be the perfect boyfriend.

You could see it, see yourself being happy with him.

Until you couldn't.

The busker's next song struck a chord deep within you, a familiar melody that wrapped around your heart like a haunting echo from the past. It was your song, the one you and Hyunjin had dedicated to each other; it signified how much you meant to one another.

As the singer's voice carried the tune, memories of late-night talks, stolen glances, and the warmth of Hyunjin's presence flooded your mind. It was a bittersweet reminder of a connection that ran far deeper than you'd allowed yourself to acknowledge.

You knew you were hopeless when a voice you knew too well from behind you called out your name.

Hwang Hyunjin stood there, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of emotions that mirrored your own inner turmoil. The shattered fragments of the future you envisioned with Seungmin lay scattered like a broken mirror, and there was no escaping the truth that had resurfaced with the haunting melody.

Turning to face him, you knew you were a lost cause the moment you laid your eyes on him. You had no control over how your heart instantly reacted to merely seeing him.

Seungmin's smile faltered, his grip on your hand loosening. The sudden shift didn't escape your notice, and when you looked up at him with tearful eyes, you found a bittersweet understanding in his gaze. His hand gently patted your head, a comforting gesture that carried an unspoken message.

"It's okay. Follow your heart, go to him," He said, his voice soft and understanding. His reassuring smile attempted to dispel any guilt you might feel, "Don't apologise, please. From the beginning, it was clear that your heart belonged to someone else. I knew that, and I just wanted to try my luck winning it over. But it's alright; I can tell this whole time, it's still with him."

His words lingered in the air, carrying both acceptance and a touch of melancholy. Hyunjin, who had been silently observing, began to view your date in a different light. Felix's insight had been right; Seungmin was a great guy.

Giving your hand a final, supportive squeeze, Seungmin nodded encouragingly at Hyunjin before walking off into the night.

The atmosphere around you seemed to shift, the distant sounds of the city melting away as Seungmin left you alone with Hyunjin and the weight of his words hanging in the air.

"Great, he's gone now. Are you happy?! What is it that's so freaking urgent that you had to ruin my date—"

Before you could process the mix of emotions, Hyunjin closed the distance between you. Your anger bubbled up at his apparent interruption, but he cut through your words with a revelation that shook you to your core.

"I'm in love with you, okay?!"

The confession hung in the air, and for a moment, the world stopped. You looked at him, your heart pounding, thoughts racing.

The truth that lingered beneath the surface had finally surfaced, leaving you both vulnerable and exposed. As the weight of his words settled in, you found yourself at a loss for how to respond.

Time seemed to come to a standstill.

You stood there, eyes wide, trembling, as the weight of his words sank in, "Wh-what?" You croaked, almost disbelieving. You feared your mind might be playing tricks on you.

Hyunjin softened, reaching gently for your hands, "I said, I'm in love with you. Always have been. It's... it's always been you. I should've known when I couldn't stop thinking about you even when I was with Lia. I'm sorry it took me this long to realise."

Your eyes rounded at the sincerity in his voice as he continued, "And I know that you feel exactly the same way I do."

You scoffed lightly at his confidence, "And how would you know that?"

He smiled, his gaze unwavering, "Tell me I'm wrong then. Tell me I've never once crossed your mind while you were with Seungmin."

You huffed in defeat, and he brought a hand up to cup your face, making you meet his gaze, "It has been painful watching you be with him, but I deserved it after making you watch and help me chase after Lia. I'm an idiot. I don't know how I've been so blind to my own feelings all this while."

You chuckled, placing your hand over his affectionately, "Believe it or not, I'm not much better. I didn't realise I loved you until Lia came around too."

His heart skipped a beat at your words, and he rested his forehead against yours, "Say that again."

You frowned, "Say what? That I'm no better than you?"

He laughed, "Not that. What you said after that."

You blinked slowly, "That I... love you?"

He nodded, biting his lip, "Again."

You blushed, murmuring, "I love you, you idiot."

His heart soared at that, "I love you too." Before you knew it, you were both leaning in, and your breath was taken away when you finally felt his lips pressed against yours. The world seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of you and the shared realisation of a love that had been there all along.

Hyunjin took you home, and the journey was a blur of stolen kisses, laughter, and the promise of a future that was now crystal clear. He kissed you dizzy at your doorstep, a sweet and lingering moment that left you breathless.

As you unlocked your front door, still feeling the warmth of his touch on your lips, you couldn't shake the need to address things with Seungmin. Despite the confusion of your emotions, you felt responsible for any unintentional hurt you might have caused.

Pulling out your phone, you composed a long text to Seungmin, expressing your sincerest apologies for leading him on, even when that wasn't your intention.

His reply came not long after, and you felt relief as you read his understanding words. Seungmin reassured you that he cherished the friendship you both had and was genuinely happy for you. You sighed, grateful that he handled it with such grace, and responded with a heartfelt thank you.

The weight on your shoulders lifted, knowing that at least one aspect of the situation was resolved amicably.

As the night settled in, you found yourself sitting by your window, a gentle breeze carrying the promise of a fresh start. Texts from Hyunjin lit up your screen, each message carrying a piece of the happiness that now coloured your world.

You smiled, realising that sometimes, the best things in life were the ones that took time to unfold.

The following week, you and Hyunjin walked into school hand in hand, a couple at last. The shift in your relationship wasn't much of a surprise to anyone. It has always been clear to most people that there was something slightly more between you; Hyunjin's protective nature and constant presence by your side made it obvious, that the love he had for you was different from Felix's platonic one.

The subtle hints that hung between you two over the years were now out in the open, and the school could finally witness the natural progression from best friends to something more.

Felix, stationed by his locker with an amused smirk, "Finally! I was this close to losing my patience waiting for you fools to realise you belonged together." His words carried a teasing tone, but there was genuine happiness in his eyes as he looked at the two of you.

Hyunjin chuckled, "Thanks, Lix. I won't lie, we probably wouldn't have been together yet if it weren't for you."

You nodded in agreement, "For real, you're the best," Grateful for the support and nudges from Felix, you jumped into his open arms, embracing him with genuine warmth. He grinned teasingly at your boyfriend as he hugged you back tightly, "I sure am."

Hyunjin, feigning jealousy, cleared his throat, "Alright, alright, that's enough! Hands off my girlfriend." He pulled you back into his arms, giving you a playful glare. You giggled, basking in the joy of finally being able to show your affection openly. The three of you shared a moment, knowing that this new chapter in your lives had been a long time coming.

The laughter-filled atmosphere at the lunch table spoke volumes about the comfort and happiness that had settled into your lives. With your boyfriend sitting by your side and your best friend across from you, the three of you enjoyed the moment.

Felix, ever the playful instigator, decided to bring up a memory, "Hey, remember when you said you had no interest in dating? Funny how things turned out, now look at you."

You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes at his persistent teasing. Just as you were about to feed Hyunjin some of your kimchi fried rice, you paused midway, giving Felix a mock glare, "How many times have we been over this? Give it a rest, will you?"

Hyunjin whined at the interruption, and you turned to feed him with a coo, making him smile. Felix burst into laughter, thoroughly entertained, "Nope, I'll never let you live this down."

Your boyfriend swallowed the food in his mouth before throwing a tangerine at Felix, "Leave her alone and pick on someone your own size, Lee Yongbok."

Felix shook his head amusingly, catching the fruit in his hand, "Okay, okay, sheesh."

Amid the laughter and light banter, Felix suddenly shifted the mood, his expression turning serious, "Hey, on a serious note, you two. I just want you to know how genuinely happy I am for both of you. I wish you nothing but the best, and I hope you'll be together for a really long time. You both mean the world to me and your happiness is what matters most."

Hyunjin wrapped an arm around you and nodded, "I promise, Lix, I'll take care of her for as long as I'm capable of doing so."

Your eyes grew a bit wet at the sincerity of their words. Just as the moment was turning emotional, Felix, in his typical fashion, couldn't resist adding a touch of humour, "Oh, and by the way, if you have a kid, name them after me. Felix has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

You and Hyunjin stared at him, unamused, for a brief moment before bursting into laughter. Without missing a beat, you both reached over to give him a playful smack, "Dream on, Lix."

Deciding to go on a date after school, the two of you waved your best friend goodbye before skipping off in the opposite direction.

Swinging your intertwined hands, Hyunjin couldn't help but pout at the thought of your gaming plans with Seungmin over the weekend, "Can't you hang out with me instead of gaming with Seungmin, hm?" He asked, a playful whine in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, a teasing smile playing on your lips, "Jinnie, please, you're the one who told me the importance of maintaining our own lives outside of our relationship, right?"

He sputtered for a moment, caught off guard, "W-well, I mean, yeah, I did but—"

You shook your head, cutting off his protest with a gentle finger pressed against his lips, "No 'buts.' I'm playing with Seungmin, and you can't stop me."

Turning to continue walking, he tugged on your wrist and pulled you against him. With a gasp, you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself, "Really? You'd rather play games with some other guy than do this with your own boyfriend?" He murmured, his tone a mix of playfulness and a hint of something more.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, kissing you with an intensity that caught you by surprise. Your knees buckled, and you would have fallen if it hadn't been for his strong hold on you. Your eyes fluttered closed almost instantly as you melted into the kiss, all thoughts of gaming and Seungmin fading away.

When he pulled away, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, he gazed at your dazed state, "Tell me, is gaming better than this, hm?" He teased, his voice carrying a playful tone.

Lost in the trance of the moment, you shook your head, feeling his lips brush against yours before he kissed you again. The sensation was electrifying, but if Hyunjin thought he had won you over with that, he was severely mistaken.

Because when the weekend came around, and you were immersed in your gaming session with Seungmin, no amount of kisses from Hyunjin could distract you from the digital world you were exploring. As much as you loved the moments with your boyfriend, your passion for gaming was a part of who you were, and it was a promise you intended to keep.

But you did let him come over while you game.

Hyunjin pouted as he watched you talk excitedly into the mic on your headset, your enthusiasm evident in every word you spoke to Seungmin. Despite his initial playful complaints about being abandoned for games, he couldn't fight the smile that grew on his face.

As you laughed and strategised with Seungmin, Hyunjin appreciated how genuinely happy you were in these moments. He understood that your passion for gaming was a significant part of who you were, and he respected that.

Seated beside you, he immersed himself in his own world of sketches and drawings. The atmosphere was filled with the sound of your laughter and the clicking of his pencil against the paper. He was content, knowing that you were both doing things you loved, even if they were very different. Being by your side was all that mattered to him. And as he glanced at you with a soft smile, he thought, maybe, opposites do attract after all.

He couldn't resist leaning over to plant a kiss on your head as you played. You winked at him in response, making him laugh.

When the long match finally ended in your favour, you jumped up, arms thrown around his neck in triumph, "We won, Jinnie!" You exclaimed, and he cheered alongside you, savouring the victory.

As you celebrated, Hyunjin sneakily wrapped his arms around you and whispered, "Should I reward you for doing such a good job?" A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes.

You gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth when you heard a loud groan through your headset. Seungmin's voice echoed, and you realised he could still hear you with the mic unmuted, "Ew, I really didn't need to hear that. My day's completely ruined now, thanks."

"Shut up, Seungmin. You've been hogging my girlfriend all day. Can I have her back already?" Hyunjin scolded, and your face turned a shade of red.

Seungmin laughed good-naturedly, "Fine, she's all yours."

Hyunjin grinned in victory as you ended the call with Seungmin, and he wasted no time pulling you back into his arms as soon as you logged out of the game.

"Damn right, she is. All mine."

I'll be honest, this slightly strayed from the initial direction that I was gonna go for, but I'm happy with how it ended.

Thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids hyunjin #non idol au #high school au #best friends to lovers #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin #stray kids fic #stray kids oneshot

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