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#i was in a part of a mall where kids play?
cynicallyneutral · 2 years
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i had a dream
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tired-biscuit · 6 months
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A friend, a mate, and all things in-between
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18+ MDNI, fem!reader/werewolf!bsf!kiba
premise: after finding out the truth about the role you supposedly play in kiba’s life, you settle on a compromise of taking things slow and seeing where the wind takes you while you’re at it.
cw: monsterfucking, knotting, implied breeding, mounting, size difference, omegaverse themes, werewolf saliva used as aphrodisiac. college/modern AU, friends to lovers, established mating bond, jealousy, descriptions of a close call-cheating encounter in the past, usage of sweetheart and bunny as pet names for reader.
wc: 22.8k
find part one here!
———
On Saturday, Kiba takes you out for dinner, exactly like he’d promised.
The restaurant by the lake that you’ve decided to visit is quaint as much as it is familiar. The lighting is dim but warm, and the tables are clean even if some of the edges have been smoothed out with age and use. Pictures and framed newspaper articles cover the walls. All of them feature your little town in some way or another.
There’s a pleasant tune playing on the tiny, white speakers that are fixed in the corner. You’re pretty sure you’ve heard the song on the radio before. The easy-going notes resemble the elevator music you sometimes hear whenever you go shopping at the local mall and have to reach the garage underneath, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad, necessarily.
If you had to describe the place, it reminds you of a diner that’s gotten stuck in the past, that is if a diner was situated next to a lake and the modern aspects of it were entirely excluded, of course.
After all, there is a shiny new coffee machine sitting behind the counter, and the waitress is wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt instead of a uniform and rollerblades — the latter being a missed opportunity in your opinion.
But speaking of time; both yourself and Kiba used to come here all the time back when you were younger, even going so far back that your feet were left dangling in the air as soon as your butts had plopped onto the same plushy chairs you’re sitting in now. Making choices was easier back then — the only food you ordered had come from the kids menu.
You can still hear his, ‘Are ya gonna finish that?’ somewhere in the back of your mind. 
As well as his mother’s immediate hiss of disapproval, ‘For goodness’ sake, boy, let the poor girl eat her food in peace! With the way you’re acting, people are gonna start thinking that I don’t feed you enough.’
In the beginning, you both ate here with your parents. Afterwards — when the soles of your sneakers were able to firmly touch the floor and Kiba had won the bet and got his driver’s license well before you did — it was mostly just the two of you.
But as you sit across from him at the table that’s situated right next to the window, and which you’ve personally favoured for years — you know that he prefers the one that’s in the corner — you come to realize that this date is different from all the previous ones that you’ve been on in this exact place with him.
Because unlike the rest, this one is actually for real.
And it shows, you think. In many ways, with the most obvious one being the fact that your best friend has tidied himself up rather nicely despite the high temperatures outside.
There are jeans instead of gym shorts on his strong legs, and clean shoes on his feet instead of the busted sneakers that he swears up and down are still holding on just fine. He’s even gone through the hassle of putting on a short-sleeved button-up with a pretty pattern that cleverly melds into the colour of the cotton if you’re looking closely enough — not that you are!
In classic Kiba fashion, the top two buttons of his shirt are undone; open just enough for the glint of a thin golden chain to catch your eye whenever he tilts his head to the side or stretches his neck.
You haven’t been staring at the piece of jewelry for long, wondering where or who he’d gotten it from, however you can still tell that there’s no pendant hanging off the necklace. No charm or initial either.
Good.
Wait, wait, wait… why is that good? Are you by any chance hoping that he’ll agree to wear yours because of it?
The thought succeeds in heating up your face with stress — a popular emotion this entire situation has been evoking as of late. Ever since he had admitted that you were his mate back in the tent, you’re still feeling the pressure of deciding if you actually want to be one. 
And placing a mark like that on him, clasping your golden initial around his neck and consequently announcing that he’s your property now… It’d signal just that, now wouldn’t it?
Attempting to whisk away the dilemma that’s been plaguing your mind for the last couple of days, you force your eyes to dip from your best friend’s neck, down to the plate of half-eaten food that you’ve still got sitting in front of you. 
Your grip on the fork is tight as you chew. The food is good, even if you can’t taste it all that much from how absent-minded you are.
In a mere instant, Kiba is leaning in to ask, “You okay?”
He’s always asking that as of late.
Are you all right?
Is everything okay?
Are you sure?
“Yeah.” The nod you give him is so stiff and fast that it comes across as unnatural instead of genuine. “I’m fine.”
You try to ignore the curious smile that curls his lips as he continues to watch you eat, undoubtedly inhaling the anxiety that riddles your scent in subtle waves now. 
He’s learned that it intensifies whenever his foot accidentally touches yours underneath the table. That it doubles in strength whenever he looks you in the eyes for too long. Sometimes it even happens when he grins. Practically everything seems to be setting you off today.
You’re nervous, that much is clear. Are way up in your head about this entire thing just like you are with everything else that happens in your life. And while finding out that you’re basically a perfect biological match for your best friend is no small feat, the young werewolf’s opinion remains: you need to fucking relax. 
With how hard you’re squeezing that fork, it’s making him fear that you’re trying to split it in half — an act that he definitely wouldn’t mind doing to you again.
Woah there, reel it back in, lover boy… Easy!
Willing himself to push the dirty thought away by thinking about the food he’s eating instead, Kiba swallows the bite of steak he’d just been chewing on with a small, albeit conflicted sigh. 
The meat tastes rich despite the fact that it’s been served nearly raw — the bloodier, the better when it comes to dining with a werewolf, you suppose — however, he finds it hard to fully appreciate the meal when unlike his taste buds, his libido is far from appeased.
“Anyways.” He pauses to glide the tip of his tongue across his front teeth, further appreciating the savory taste that’s stuck there before he leans in slightly closer again. “You look really pretty tonight.”
Hearing his compliment, you look up from your plate; carefully eyeing him from underneath your lashes which you’ve taken the time to coat with a thin layer of mascara before leaving the house. It was a decision made solely for your own peace of mind.
Well, probably. 
Taking a shallow breath now, you ask, “I do?”
“What kind of stupid question is that… ‘Course you’re pretty, bunny. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on,” he says, chuckling quietly and propping his cheek against one palm with such ease that it’s almost scary.
Watching you succumb further into yourself in response to his niceness is entertaining as hell, he can’t lie. You’re lost, vulnerable. If looks as sweet as the one that’s sitting on your face right now had the power to kill, he’d be proclaimed a dead man ages ago. 
It compels him to add, “You’ve always been pretty to me.”
Messing with you or not, what he says now is the truth. Sticking by your side in the role of your best friend for so many years, Kiba has seen you be at your best as often as he’s experienced you at your worst, and has nonetheless always, always thought the exact same thing about you: that you’re perfect. 
Perfect for him, that is.
Whether you’re wearing trendy skirts or hoodies so big that they entirely hide your shape, he still likes you all the same. Whether you’re walking around with freshly washed hair and with make-up on your face, or you’re still stumbling around because you’ve just woken up from a nap that has left you all disoriented and sweaty — to him there’s no difference as long as it’s you.
Part of it is the bond’s doing. It veils you with an appeal that draws him to you no matter what. However, whilst that may be the case, he thinks that the majority of his wild infatuation has to do with plain familiarity instead.
After all, it’s your heart that is his favourite thing about you, that much he’s positive about… Even if the shy little smile that you give him now could be considered quite the competitor. 
And quite the competitor it is! Kiba’s eyes are practically glued to the wet-like sheen of your lip gloss when you slowly shake your head to chide a meek, “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” he inquires immediately with a grin of his own.
“Stop flirting,” you say, placing the fork back onto your plate with a soft clink. Crossing your legs underneath the table, your body language is trying its hardest to appear strict as you add, “We said we were going to take it slow, remember…? Or are you just playing dumb on purpose?”
“What’re you talking about; we are taking it slow,” he says, his tone a matter-of-fact one. “Actually, I doubt it can get much slower than this.”
Your lips purse in response. “Talking in a way that makes you sound like you’re trying to get into my pants does not mean slow, Kiba.”
“You’re not wearing any pants, though.” His gaze slips down to the light sundress you’ve put on for the night. It makes your tits look great, but he knows you wouldn’t be happy to hear that.
You snap your fingers in front of his nose, forcing him to avert his attention from your dress. “That’s besides the point and you know it.”
“Oh, c’mon.” He takes another bite of his food, then points his fork at you, seemingly in an accusatory type of way as he mutters, “I’m just saying… If we did it my way, I would’ve bent you over ages ago.”
“Can… Can you not?! God.” You fight to extinguish the heat that immediately begins to simmer on your cheeks, but it’s proving to be quite difficult. The warmth is so strong that it even manages to travel down to the base of your neck. “Just… be quiet for a second, okay?”
His upper lip twitches as his grin widens. “Why?”
“Just ‘cause!”
Kiba huffs a laugh at the slightly higher pitch that you speak in now, shoulders shaking the tiniest bit. He watches you clear your throat and readjust in your seat, and even goes as far as to drag his gaze from your face to your neck when you reach over to take a small sip of the cocktail you’ve ordered. It still sits on the table looking half-full; creating a prominent circle of moisture on the crispy white table cloth underneath. 
The drink is colourful and summery. Even has a little paper umbrella on top. He had joked about how girly it looks earlier, but had secretly considered ordering the exact same thing just to see what the inside of your mouth must taste like. After some consideration, he’d ended up settling on a coke though.
He knows you’d nag him to no end about drinking when he’s the one who’s driving… even if alcohol doesn’t do shit when it comes to him.
Still, girly drink or not, the ice somewhat succeeds in cooling you off and poses a challenge to the sudden heat of bashfulness that threatens to sweep you off your feet. It’s like all your senses have gone acute all of a sudden.
The sigh you let out because of it is one of only partial relief.
“What’s the matter? You hot?” Kiba teases instantly, his voice dropping so dangerously low that you can almost feel it reverberate in your bones. “Hot and bothered?”
“Shut up,” you hiss before taking another sip, this time a larger one. You need it if you wish to endure this menace of a man.
“What’s in it for me?” the mentioned menace questions now, taunting you with that infuriating half-smile that he knows damn well provokes you immensely. He even goes as far as to wiggle his eyebrows as he gives his best effort to purr, “Does it make you feel things, mm? Makes you wanna— Hey!”
His taunting gets replaced with a huff of disapproval when you suddenly kick him in the shin, making the fork rattle atop your plate. The kick itself is nowhere near to being powerful enough to actually hurt him, considering his thick skin and the firm cords of muscle that hide underneath, but it does get the message across. Kind of.
“What’d you do that for?” A playful little pout sits on Kiba’s mouth now. It makes him look younger than he actually is; makes him resemble the kid that you spent all your time with back in high school, as well as all the years prior to that. 
“Because it was well deserved, you dumbass,” you mumble, still staring at his face. A small, slightly less nervous chuckle bubbles up your throat when he bristles in answer. “Now be quiet and eat your dinner.”
Not even batting an eye, he blurts out, “I’d rather eat you, though.”
You give it your best shot to scowl at him even if the tease sparks heat somewhere inside your middle all over again. It’s the reason why your voice doesn’t sound as strong as you want it to be when you say, “You’re hopeless, you know that? Actually hopeless.”
“Actually, I think I'm quite on my game tonight.” He gives you a wink, reaching for his fork again. “But you can keep tellin’ yourself that if it makes ya feel any better, sweetheart.”
He’s right. 
It makes you sigh.
———
The rest of your first proper date with your best friend goes well. Scarily so.
In fact, neither of you picks up the phone during the entirety of it. The only exception is when you decide to stalk your old classmates from high school together and share a good laugh about some of the results you stumble upon.
“Oh shit, he’s actually completely bald… What the hell?”
“Called it! I fuckin’ called it!”
Your face hurts from laughing so much and with the initial nervousness gone, dinner goes smoothly. You end up sharing dessert and talking nearly until closing time — releasing the growingly impatient waitress from your clutches at long last and mumbling sheepish apologies along the way because of it. 
To be honest, the entire outing isn’t much different from all the previous ones you’ve indulged in the exact same restaurant all those years ago.
However, you soon find out that that is because the change in your dynamic presents itself afterwards; when he turns to look you in the eye the second you sit in his car and asks you if you want to go to his place, despite the fact that it’s getting late and he doesn’t live with his mom anymore.
And you go. You nod your head yes and you fucking go. For what reason, you, yourself don’t know, but you might as well find out while you’re at it.
So around quarter to midnight, you arrive to the little apartment that Kiba calls his new home. It’s cozy and a little messy, though not to a degree that should cause concern. Otherwise, it’s lived in and definitely your standard guy apartment.
He shows you the kitchen, immediately rolling his eyes when your gaze lands onto the small pile of dishes in the sink — two cereal bowls and a mug that for some reason says ‘World’s Best Dad’ on it — and points you in the direction of the bathroom, his roommate’s bedroom, and finally, his own room, which you tell him you’ll take a look at some other time, preferably during the day and when you don’t have three sugary cocktails coursing your blood and clouding your better judgement. 
You did say that you were going to take it slow, after all.
By the time he drags you into the living room, you let out a small gasp of joy when you come face to face with Akamaru, who lays curled up on the couch, depicting the epitome of comfort.
Scurrying to sit down next to the big pup and offering him your hand to sniff so that he can hopefully recognize you despite not seeing you in years, you begin to understand what Kiba had meant with the term ‘senior dog’ during your camping trip earlier.
Christ, he’s gotten so old.
“So, what do you think?” your best friend calls out from the hallway now. He’d gone there to hang up your jacket for you at first, but it seems like he’s also using the chance to turn off the lights as he goes. 
…As well as to run off into his room to change his fancy clothes for a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a simple T-shirt. Typical.
“It’s a nice place. Pretty spacious.” You’re too busy petting Akamaru, pretending you aren’t interested in him when he throws himself onto the couch right next to you, even if your body tenses up just the tiniest bit at the closeness.
You’ve already fucked him, for crying out loud — several times in the span of one night. What are you acting so damn nervous for?
“But?” he mumbles, seemingly not noticing the subtle change in your body language as he crosses his ankles and flicks on the television. 
“What do you mean but? There’s no but,” you chide in answer, still scratching the white canine behind the ears and really trying to put all your focus into the movement instead of the warmth of your best friend’s body that is slowly spilling into your side now. 
The brown patches in Akamaru’s fur have gotten dull in colour with old age. His eyes look tired and he’s also nowhere as lively as he used to be, though he still puts in the effort to give you an appreciative little wag of his tail when your fingers dig into the sweet spot that you remember is hiding underneath his chin. 
“There’s always a but with you,” Kiba insists, changing the channel yet again. He’s not paying attention to the TV, not really anyways, but he pretends that he does just so that you can breathe a little easier.
However, when you turn your head so that you can shoot him a glare for the sly remark, you catch him staring right back at you with that stupidly lovestruck smile playing on his lips.
Lowering your gaze, you try to act like it doesn’t cause butterflies to start fluttering inside your belly. Meanwhile, he tries to act like he can’t smell the sudden sweetness that the feeling evokes in your scent.
“Oh, fine.” You pause, ceasing the petting for a moment. “I suppose it could use a little bit of a woman’s touch here and there… And you definitely could’ve washed the dishes prior to inviting me, but that’s all.”
“For your information, I didn’t wash the dishes ‘cause it’s Kankuro’s turn to do ‘em,” he says. And grins. “And if the place really needs a woman’s touch as badly as you say it does, then you’re more than welcome to touch it all over.”
“Kankuro is your roommate, I take it?” you ask, choosing to skip over the thing he’s hinting at. The butterflies still continue to flutter, though.
“Yep,” Kiba replies, playing with the remote now. The symbol on the power button has long since faded out with use and it doesn’t surprise him really. Him and Kankuro had found the TV on Facebook Marketplace. Bought it so cheap that it felt like a steal.
You listen to the quiet click of claws as Akamaru slides off the couch and ventures down the hallway, aiming straight towards Kiba’s bedroom. He’s probably going to use the chance to hog up as much space on the bed as he possibly can before his owner can beat him to it. Smart dog.
“What’s he like?” you inquire. “This Kankuro guy?”
“He’s, you know… Kanks is just a regular dude as far as I’m concerned,” your best friend says, still staring at the remote. “Cleans up after himself and is good with Akamaru. He does that cosplayin’ shit from time to time, though… Paints his face for those anime conventions that you see online and stuff. It’s pretty dope.”
“Does he know about,” you trail off, making sure to lower your voice just in case, “you know… The whole howling at the moon thingy?”
“Fuck no.” Kiba shakes his head, his lips curling into a smile. “You, Hana and mom are still the only ones who know, but now I’m kind of starting to think that I should’ve kept it a family secret instead of telling your dorky ass about it… Howling at the moon thingy? What are ya; twelve?”
You stick your tongue out at him at the remark. He tries not to stare at it for too long.
“Say…” A couple of moments pass. Your gaze dips to your lap as you ask, “How come you never told Tamaki?”
The mention of his ex-girlfriend makes Kiba want to cringe. His smile falters, twitching downwards at the corners, but he forces it to remain at least semi-present despite the fact that you’re not looking at him. Either your hands must have become the most interesting thing in the world, or you’re ashamed for inquiring about his past relationships.
“Ah, you know,” he mutters after a short moment of silence. His tone sounds very distant out of the blue. “Just never found the right time for it, I suppose.”
You hum at his answer; just a little noise of acknowledgement. “You never found the time even after being with her for… several years?”
How could he, if it also meant having to explain that he was eternally tied to his best friend; the girl he’d always assured her that she shouldn’t be worried about?
Kiba gives a hard, obvious swallow, unable to stop his jaw from clenching a little. “Yeah.”
You pick at your nails, pretending there’s something underneath them in order to appear busy. “Do you miss her?”
“I, um… I think I used to, but I definitely don’t anymore.” He sees the dumbfounded look you give him now and scrubs a tired hand over his face. “I know it sounds awful when I put it like that, trust me, I know, but the bond between me and you doesn’t let me feel things like… that anymore. For other people, I mean. It’s just… It’s a bitch to explain.”
He had loved Tamaki. Perhaps he still does; in a way that would never be enough for her and that is considerably less than what she actually deserves, but after finally connecting with you, his mate, the mere thought of ever being intimate with someone else again repulses him greatly. 
He’d tried to make it work. To give her what she’d desired, deserved. Every embrace, kiss, conversation, trip, and so much more. However, you’d always been right there, sitting in the back of his mind during it all. And now that he’d gotten the chance to place his mouth on yours, and had tasted you, had been inside you, he feels so fucking stupid for even attempting to do such a thing in the first place.
It’s either you or nobody.
“So, anyway… Cosplay, huh?” you ask randomly, clearly trying to brush the heavy topic away despite being the one who initiated it. 
He blinks, slowly. “What about it?”
“You really think it’s cool?”
“Yes,” he snips all of a sudden. The change of tone makes you even more puzzled than you already are, especially when he adds, “Is it that hard to believe or somethin’?”
“Well… yeah,” you mumble while scratching your cheek. It’s a challenge to contain the surprise that tries to show on your face now; your eyebrows are insisting on rising up nearly to your hairline. “I mean, the Kiba I know would’ve straight up bullied a person like that.”
He blanches at your statement. “That was one time! I was just being honest with the poor suckers when I told them that carrying Yu-Gi-Oh! cards to school is the reason why they’re all still virgins… In fact, I was probably doing them a favour!”
“No,” you object. “You were being mean.”
“Then it’s a good thing that we’re not in high school anymore, I guess.” He flicks the remote onto a nearby pillow and crosses his arms behind his head before he says, “And just so you know, I’m not just some mean asshole that you constantly keep referring to me as. People can change. Myself included.”
“I didn’t–... I didn’t mean it like that,” you reply a bit too fast, feeling every blink your eyelids make. His gaze is unmoving from your face and it’s causing you to become hyper-aware of your body. “I know there’s more to you than just acting like a prick, come on. I wouldn’t be friends with you otherwise.”
He sighs in answer, his face tight. You do the same.
Awkwardness settles in.
“Uh,” you utter at some point, finally daring to look up at him again. “Want to tell me the reason why you like it, though?”
“Like what?” he asks dumbly.
“Cosplay.”
“Oh.” A brief second passes before he, at long last, chuckles. You’re relieved to see his shoulders sag a bit with it. “Well, if I’ve gotta pick one thing, I guess it’s ‘cause most of the chicks are dressed in those hot, skintight bodysuits?”
“Seriously?” A pang of jealousy resonates within you, but you do your best to repress it. It’s too early to be feeling all that. “That’s the best thing you can come up with? Girls in tight bodysuits?”
“No, I’m just messin’ with ya, hah…” He grins, but swallows thickly again and runs his fingers over the back of his head before he continues, “While those are nice, don’t get me wrong, I guess I really like it because it’s like Halloween, in a way?”
“Halloween?” you repeat, even more confused.
“Yeah.” He gives you a nod that could almost come across as sheepish. “Someone can dress up as something that’s supposed to be big and scary, and when people see it, they aren’t… Well, they aren’t afraid of it, necessarily? Instead they just think it’s cool and fun, you know?”
Finally, Kiba tears his gaze from your face, allowing it to settle onto his lap instead. Silence stretches between you once more as you continue to stare at him. Your head tilts to the side just as his drops lower, and you make the decision to reach out so that you can gently pat his knee in understanding.
Your entire body begins to glow from within when his hand rests atop your own. He traces your knuckles and gives them a gentle squeeze. The sensation is truly something you haven’t had the chance to experience before with anyone other than your best friend. There’s just so much nostalgia hiding in the small portrayal of affection.
The tone of your voice slips into something soft because of it, so soft that it comes across as barely above a whisper even to his sensitive wolf hearing when you ask, “I take it that that someone is you, in your… other form?” 
“What? No, I, uh… It’s not me.” He lets go of your hand to awkwardly clear his throat, trying to ignore the sudden ache that appears in it before he sits cross-legged and rests his elbows on his knees. 
By the time he’s ready to speak again, he’s already fiddling with his fingers. “Besides, even if I actually wanted to go, I still couldn’t. I’m far too big for that. Far too… scary-lookin’.”
He wants to though, you can see it bright as day. Can see that he’s tired of hiding a whole other half of himself — a half that he’ll unfortunately have to keep hidden for as long as he lives. Tired of making excuses and being overly cautious when he’s the exact opposite of it, and missing out on important events whenever they’re set on days following up to a full moon. Tired of receiving weird, uncomfortable glances whenever instinct takes over and his true nature pushes forward a bit too far past the barriers, when all he yearns for is to be liked.
Just… fed up with it all.
However, you also know that Kiba hates being perceived as vulnerable. So rather than moping with him and indulging his sadness and thus worsening it, you instead use the chance to snort and playfully nudge him in the shoulder. 
“Oh, yeah?” you say, making sure the lilt in your voice is overly noticeable. “Is that so?”
The nudge you give him makes him look up, as does the sudden change in your tone. At the sight of your friendly smile and the challenge simmering in your eyes, his expression eventually lightens to something a bit less stormy.
You’ll do just about anything to drag your best friend out of the bubble of melancholy that he’s surrounded himself with. 
And the best thing about it? You know that he would’ve done the same for you.
“Yeah,” he says, playing along now, albeit reluctantly. He’s still not quite where you want him exactly, but you’re getting there.
“Well, how big and scary are we talking, big boy?” you continue to inquire, wiggling your eyebrows. 
“I–” He snickers at your flirtatious prodding, rolling his eyes right afterwards. “Too big for anyone to handle,” he says, “and that includes you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Can he truly get that big? You’ve never had the chance to see him turn full wolf yet, so his statement causes your stomach to fill with warmth. Heat travels downwards, over your thighs and between your legs, and you swear that you can hear him inhale a breath that’s slightly deeper than usual when it happens. 
The unannounced nerves are making you want to start pacing around the room, but you force your body to keep still.
“Well, you not believing me ain’t my problem, now is it?” he says, his smile suddenly wistful now. The light that comes from the TV makes his unnaturally big canines glimmer with moisture. It’s hard to not look at his mouth because of it. 
Words slightly wobbly, you manage to say, “I’m your mate, though.”
Mate. He perks up at the word, just like he always does, but his voice doesn’t make him sound particularly fazed as he utters, “And?”
“And that makes me your problem,” you explain, finally daring to move so that you can scratch your cheek again. It’s nothing more but an attempt at self-soothing. “Doesn’t it?”
You’re unsure why you’re pushing on this specific topic — especially after being the one who had once again suggested taking things slow in the first place — however, to be fair, you’ve been curious about it for a long while, even before you’d tangled yourself into this whole ‘bonded for life’ mess.
But now that the link has been revealed, the desire to lay your eyes on the unthinkable has become as potent as ever.
There is just something so undeniably appealing about the idea of seeing him in his werewolf form. Something thrilling in discovering the unknown; touching it with your hands and grazing it with the tips of your fingers. Something reassuring in accepting all of him, especially after he’d just partially trusted you with his insecurities revolving around this specific topic.
So yes, it’s either that, or it’s the newly discovered monsterfucker that’s been hiding inside you this whole time that’s talking and coaxing him into showing himself now. Or perhaps it’s both. Who knows?
You try to feign indifference to the best of your capability as you wait for his answer, even if every single inch of you is buzzing with relentless expectation. 
With bated breath that could very well match your own to perfection, Kiba inches ever so slightly closer, seemingly completely unintentionally. His gaze is laser-focused as he studies every feature that your face provides. The curve of your jaw, the shape of your lips, the colour of your eyes — he burns it all into memory before he at long last settles on the upper corner of your left cheek.
His burning stare causes your heart to pound faster than it normally would, and you know that he can hear it despite the fact that his ears are nowhere near your chest. Still, you insist on not moving a muscle. Insist on being brave.
“I’m too big for ya,” he says finally, gesturing over himself with his hand. “This is all you’re gonna get after you’re done playing the ‘takin’ it slow’ game with me.”
You bristle, clearly displeased with his answer. “But I’m–”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “Believe me, I wish it would, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re only human.”
“Humans can adapt! And being one, as you’ve so kindly pointed out, I’m pretty sure I can take it,” you object, heart still going thump, thump, thump! Something tells you that this isn’t just about cheering him up anymore. “Actually, I know I can.”
If he’s fucked you like a feral animal without transforming, how off the rails can he get if he doesn’t have anything holding him back anymore? 
You tense up when he gives you a harsh, almost derisive kind of laugh. Sit straighter when he says, “I’d tear you to shreds.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“The point is that I could.” The corners of his mouth twitch downwards at the horrible thought. “And that’s not something I’m willing to risk.”
You roll your eyes. “Since when are you one to say no to taking risks?”
“Since last week,” he replies. “Give or take.”
“You mean…?” A quick wave of heat washes over your face again. You went camping last week and he’d slipped into rut whilst sharing a tent with you; accidentally confessing everything that’s tied him to you ever since he’d first laid eyes on you all those years ago. 
He nods. “You’d be surprised how much being with a mate can change a wolf… I’m boring as fuck now.”
“But I don’t want you to change! I love you just the way you are,” you find yourself saying. The reason must be that last cocktail you persuaded yourself into ordering and eventually drinking. It’s untied your tongue like it’s nothing but a measly shoelace.
Nevertheless… 
Love.
Kiba’s breath hitches at the word, deeply-rooted emotions swelling within his broad chest, however he — very painfully — chooses not to ask to hear it again as soon as the subtle whiff of anxiety wafts over to his nose.
You’re embarrassed because of what you’ve just said. It makes his chest squeeze to the brink of pain.
“I mean–” you start, fumbling with your words. “I–”
“It’s okay,” he says, patting your knee as casually as he’s able despite the fact that the smile he gives you now seems just a smidge too tight. “I know what you meant. Now stop making it awkward or I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
Hyper-sensitive — his touch lights your skin on fire. His palm barely moves from its initial spot, but you can feel every callus to adorn his fingers, every minuscule stroke, as well as the reassuring squeeze that makes you want to straight up jump his bones.
And fuck, it’s nice. So nice, in fact, that it persuades you to stop him when he goes to pull his hand off your leg.
“Wait… don’t.”
“Mm?”
“You can touch me.” The words roll off your tongue before you can reel them back in again, but you still decide to put on your bravest front even if your upper lip is a second away from quivering.
Short-lived surprise crosses Kiba’s face. You watch with nervous eyes as his hand falters before it eventually settles on its original spot again. He grasps it more firmly this time. Squeezes with intent instead of reassurance.
There’s a beat of unsure stillness in the air before he brings himself to ask, “Like that?”
You give him a nod, feeling a little more confident while also paying mind not to be so tense. There are so many things you have to keep track of; god, why can’t you just relax and be more like him? Everything has to be so darn complicated whenever it comes to you! 
“Bunny,” he says, his tone still slightly unsure. “I thought I told you to stop making it awkward.”
Phantom lightning strikes your insides, melting them into liquid. “I’m not making it awkward.”
“‘Course you are. You’re completely stiff.” His grip tightens and it makes your eyes grow wide and your body turn even tenser in response. 
His own eyes aren’t their usual chocolate brown shade when he lifts his gaze to look at you again, but they sure are dark as sin. 
“See?” is all he says, a little out of breath. 
“I’m not,” you insist, the sentence completely useless. Your throat feels terribly dry all of a sudden. It makes your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth. “You’re just… imagining things.”
He quirks one brow. Repeats your challenge from earlier with the same tone, “Oh, yeah?” 
You bite your lip — a lame attempt to refocus. “Yeah.”
But before you know it, he uses one hand to shove you until you’re laying flat on your back, sinking deeper into the couch cushions, causing you to let out a little noise of startlement. 
His head pops into your field of vision as he hovers over you now. Aside from the light that comes from the TV, the room is shrouded in darkness. It makes only half of his face visible, however you can still see the glimmer of his teeth when he smiles down at you.
“You’re still sure about me imagining things?” he asks, clasping his fingers around the fat of your thigh. “‘Cause this is looking pretty real to me.”
“Y-yes,” you reply, challenging him further. “I’m sure.”
His grin turns wolfish as he drags his gaze over your somewhat disheveled form. Across both of your collarbones, now exposed due to the thin spaghetti straps of your dress slipping off your shoulders slightly, as well as the rising hem that’s slowly showing off more and more of your legs.
He’s looking at you like he’s planning to eat you. But rather than digging in, all he does is sneer as he says, “Brave words for someone who oddly resembles a plank right now.”
Well… that certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.
“Fuck you,” you drawl in answer, a mere hint of disappointment crossing your features — disappointment you’ll never admit to feeling. Urging your body to relax once more just so that you can prove him wrong, you instead try to focus on calming down your breathing.
However, it’s hard to do so when your best friend is literally on top of you, watching you with hungry eyes and the most complacent of smiles. Hard to do so when his fingers are now toying with the string that ties the front of your dress together and holds your tits in place. Hard to do so when—
A small gasp escapes your lips when he jabs you in the side all of a sudden.
The bridge of your nose scrunches in annoyance. When you try to stop him from repeating the action, he just takes you by the wrist and uses the chance to pin it above your head. “Don’t do that.”
“Or what?” He huffs a laugh at your weak attempt to fight back. Pokes you in the side again, making you whine. “What are you gonna do ‘bout it, hmm?” 
You don’t say anything as you squirm underneath him, trying to break free from his grip, but your efforts are to no avail. He’s got you locked in tight; has even made sure to pin your other hand the same way he did the first one when you tried to use it to push him in the chest.
“C’mon, bunny,” he taunts, his smile growing, growing, growing. Gosh, he really is such a wolf, isn’t he? “Is that really the best you can do?”
“No, it’s just not fair,” you say, trying to tame your pulse. The position you’ve wound up in is making your mind wander to all sorts of things. Dirty things.
“What’s not fair?” he asks, rubbing his thumb across your wrist.
“The fact that you’re so much stronger than me and expect me to throw you off like it’s nothing,” you mumble, huffing as you look up at the spot where he’s pressing down on your wrists. “I mean, how am I supposed to do anything, when you can hold me down with just one hand?”
The way his pupils widen with obvious excitement at your statement should concern you, but you know better than to think that he’d ever actually hurt you. It’s just the predator in him playing. A side he cannot stop from slipping into the spotlight every so often. A side he feels safe enough to share with you.
He likes being described as big and overpowering. Call it a guilty pleasure.
“Try using your legs,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with want. You can still distinguish the smile in it though. “I heard bunnies are supposed to have quite a kick to ‘em.”
“I’m not an actual bunny, shut up,” you fuss, but do exactly as he says. You kick your legs…
…and end up wrapping them around his waist instead.
Flustered warmth sears your face, neck and chest all over again as your ankles lock on the small of his back seemingly by their own accord. The skirt of your dress hikes up with the movement, exposing more of your thighs; offering him a glimpse of your cutesy underwear that you didn’t think twice about wearing because you weren’t planning on starting anything with him tonight.
And yet here you are.
The rise in temperature that you’re feeling all over blazes into something more profound now. Heat gathers in your stomach. Your legs. Between them, too. Anticipation tightens your skin, bringing the blood that runs underneath it to an angry simmer.
Kiba’s smile slowly fades when he senses the particular tension that now riddles the air around you. You stare at each other even if it’s hard for you and easy for him. For fuck’s sake, it feels like he’s burning holes into your fucking forehead when he looks at you like that.
“What is it?” you ask, nerves working overtime. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”
“You smell so fucking good when you’re turned on, did you know that?” he rasps in answer, completely ignoring your question and pitiful attempt at diffusing the situation. His nose is already leading him to that very tender spot hiding in the crook of your neck.
You flinch when he nudges your jawline, silently asking you for permission to give him more space. Not trusting the lump of nervosity that’s taken up residency inside your throat to not betray you all of a sudden, you allow it wordlessly and by angling your head slightly to the right.
“Your scent is so… I can smell how wet your cunt is even from here, god,” he trails off without an ounce of shame, every word lower and lower in tone. He takes another deep breath. Savours it with a soft groan. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”
Embarrassment flashes through you like lightning does a stormy sky. The realization that he can immediately pick up on the scent of your arousal — as well as the aftermath that the ability brings — is overwhelming. 
It makes your heart thrum even faster than it did before. Consequently, your thoughts are now nothing more but a jumbled mess as you desperately attempt to tame your pulse back into a rhythm that’s normal instead of completely erratic.
But it’s not just you who’s having a hard time. The muscles in Kiba’s arms have gone completely stiff and his inhales are deep and audible instead of calm. He only pauses them to press cautious little kisses over your neck, most of which he eventually starts mixing with even smaller nips with the help of his teeth.
You’re pouring with sweat because of it. His apartment is warm, too warm even if it didn’t feel like that before, and his mouth is hot just like his tongue is as it repeatedly presses against your sweet spot. The action even causes goosebumps to appear all over your arms and legs. Great.
“Relax,” he mumbles, the tip of his nose practically smushed against your neck. “We’ve done this before.”
“What makes you think that we’ll do it again?” you hiss, fighting tooth and nail to appear authoritative. It doesn’t come off as strongly as you want it to, though.
“Call it a hunch,” he says, unable to resist a smirk. “Or whatever.”
Your lips remain a firm line. Unimpressed. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“Sure am,” he trails off with a lazy grin as his fingers brush the side of your neck. He looks at you. And winks. “You can be too, if you wanna. Full of me, I mean.”
“N-no?! The hell,” you splutter out, squirming even more. Sly motherfucker, damn him. “I thought I told you-”
“Relax! C’mon,” he repeats, huffing another laugh. “You know damn well that I’m just fucking with you, sorry, messing… No need to lecture me all the time.”
You roll your eyes. “You say that as if you can actually be lectured in the first place.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Did it ever cross that naggy mind of yours that I don’t listen to you because I don’t want to, and not because I can’t?”
“Oh yeah, many times,” you reply, glaring at him. “Drives my naggy mind crazy.”
He muses like a satisfied cat at your statement. “You drive me crazy.”
“Stop hitting on me!” Your entire face scrunches up in annoyance. “Sweet talking isn’t gonna get you laid.”
“Then what will?” He drags his tongue along your pulse point. Blows air on the trail of saliva so that he can watch you writhe at the cold sensation to overcome you, then. “You want me to chase you around a lil’ bit first? Play a little game of prey versus predator with ya to get you to sit on my dick tonight?”
A small groan of agitation is the best you can do when it comes to answering his taunting.
“Or do you want me to really work for it, hmm, bunny?” His grip tightens around your wrists. As if to serve as a reminder. “Even though, judging by how you’re lookin’ right now, I could just take it all for myself either way?”
Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. “You wouldn’t.”
His upper lip curls, revealing those sharp canine teeth again. “Yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t.” 
But he could.
Still, your breaths continue to intermingle. Doubt gets overridden by lust. Hands explore; one pair of them courageous as it can be, the other perfectly timid in contrast. The former even uses that courage to hike the hem of your dress up to your waist, completely exposing your lower half amidst all the grinding and writhing that’s slowly, but surely, coming into fruition. 
Kiba looks like he’s already won as he leers between your legs with that obnoxiously knowing glint in his eye and the equally as infuriating half-smile. 
He seems to be aware that you’re trying your absolute hardest not to react to the obvious bulge that’s in his sweatpants now. That you’re trying to ignore the rushing thrill that surges through you whenever he presses it against your traitor of a cunt — which still hides under the plain cotton panties you apparently swore you wouldn’t let him see tonight.
So he pushes it against you again. And again. Applying pressure, rubbing, testing out the playing field, waiting for you to tell him to stop. 
You don’t though. No, all you do is bite your lip in order to suppress the moan that’s impatiently waiting behind your clenched teeth and wiggle your hips whenever the hot contact strikes.
“Fuck, you’re so cute.” He can’t hide how entertained he is as he mumbles, “You want my cock? ‘Cause I’ll more than gladly give it to ya.”
A low hiss slips past your lips when his hard-on manages to bump your clit over the layers of clothes. It makes your brows furrow and your legs squeeze around his waist even tighter. 
“I didn’t–” You pause to close your eyes and inhale a rather wobbly breath. By the time you open them again, he’s already staring right back. “I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to,” he says, his own eyes flashing with what you think could be pride. “I can already tell from how fuckin’ soaked you are... Look.”
He reaches down between you then, running a single knuckle down your clothed slit. Your hips buck in answer to the touch almost immediately; the damp patch that’s formed on your underwear now turning more noticeable, shaping the outline of your pussy even further.
It makes him yearn to tug your panties to the side so that he can feel the slick coating his fingers before he can push them into your tight little hole, but he knows you’ll cause a fuss and close up on him if he moves even a smidge too quickly for your liking.
Still, the sight nearly makes him drool. His cock twitches. Starts to physically ache with need. It’s not as bad as it was during his rut last week, but fuck… this entire stage of foreplay and trying to lure you into pound town could be a close second, he can’t lie.
“Do you always get this wet whenever someone touches you,” he finds himself asking, “or is all of this just f’me?”
He hopes it’s the latter. Wants it so bad. The mere thought of someone else seeing you like this, touching you, spreading their scent all over you, claiming you, loving you… He’d let you go if you wanted to be with someone other than him, he’s told you so before, but that doesn’t mean that he’d be particularly happy about it.
Actually, he’d be quite miserable. Excruciatingly so.
You give him a pointed glare, face stern. He’s received the same look from you so many times over the years that he’s grown to love it, but you don’t fail to notice how his smile tightens with each passing moment that he waits for you to answer his question.
“Well?” he pushes, unable to resist. His eyes are getting more yellow by the second and his teeth are getting bigger. It makes his voice sound gruff as he says, “Who’s it for, bunny, mm?”
“I’m not telling you,” you say quietly, trying to make sense of all the emotions that are swelling up inside your chest now.
It’s a challenge to do so when they’ve been continuously swept under the rug for years on end and have only just recently been brought back into the open, though. When you’re unsure where your friendship stands. When you don’t even know if the love that your best friend feels for you is actually genuine, or if it’s just a thing that’s been forced forward solely because of the mating bond that eternally connects him to you.
You can’t help but wonder: would he still love you the same way he loves you now even if you weren’t his mate? If he were nothing more but a simple human, unable to connect with someone on such a deep biological level. Would he still fall for you — his best friend?
Or would he still be with his now ex-girlfriend, surely renting an apartment with her and exchanging doting glances and smiles during breakfast every morning, mind completely free from you the second you’d leave for college after every summer?
Would he even be your friend?
What if you’re just a burden to him?
“Hey.”
The sudden pinch that you receive to your left cheek tugs you out of your inner turmoil that has come to plague you all of a sudden.
Kiba’s eyebrows are cinched tight when you blink up at him. A small wrinkle of worry etches into his forehead and continues to deepen with the heavy silence to surround you. Even his jaw seems to be set firmly in place. 
Instead of hot and bothered, he just looks plain worried now despite the gleam of sweat on his brow and the almost sex hair.
“Mm?” is all you decide to let out whilst rubbing your wrists that he’s since let go of.
“You okay?” he asks, choosing to stroke your cheek instead of pinching it this time around. The pads of his fingers are rough, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. “You’ve completely zoned out on me just now.”
“I’m fine,” you say, despite that your chest remains feeling unbearably tight. The urge to touch it as a means to console yourself is hard to suppress, however you’re well aware that it’d just cause him to worry even further. “Sorry.”
“You sure? ‘Cause you smell kind of sad all of a sudden,” he mumbles, wolf eyes still zeroing in on you. He’s following every minuscule movement you make and it’s unnerving. “And I don’t know about you, but that definitely ain’t a thing a dude would want his girl to feel when he’s planning on sinking balls deep into her.”
“Sad?” you repeat, ignoring the lewd comment even if it makes you feel tingly between your legs. His cock, albeit not as hard anymore, is still persistently pressing against your pussy.
“Yeah,” he says. “Kind of like rain.”
This fascinates you. Your expression lightens as a result. “You mean like petrichor?”
He gives you somewhat of a dumb look, biting the inside of his cheek. “What?”
“Never mind, it’s just something dorky we learned in school,” you say, chuckling faintly at the confused puzzlement that now sits on his face. “Forget I said anything.”
He doesn’t respond, so you sigh, running your palm over the side of your neck he’d just been kissing a moment prior. The skin there is still warm. Tender. It makes you shiver when your fingers graze it.
“C’mon, what’s wrong?” he mutters, still eyeing you just as intensely as before. “I can tell whenever something’s bothering you… Spit it out.”
“Nothing is bothering me, okay? Gosh,” you try to reassure him, but still turn your head to the side to stare at the television. 
The movie he’d put on earlier is already halfway through and you doubt he has the option to rewind it. Oh, well.
Watching you dismiss the entire thing, Kiba looks like he’s about to fight you on it, surely getting ready to accuse you of being a liar like he’s had a habit of playfully doing in the past. However, just when his mouth pops open to say the words, you prevent him from doing so by pressing both of your palms on his front and gathering up his T-shirt between your fingers.
He stills only for a second before he starts to push out his chest at your touch, puffing up with male-like bravado as he goes. His shoulders square up. His eyes flash with that sublime yellow colour. And you might be imagining the whole thing at this point, but you swear that even his scent grows stronger in intensity. 
The entire room is engulfed by that signature amber scent now. You peer up at him once more, mind slightly hazy and astounded.
But besides the astonishment, you also feel… soothed. Kind of.
Burden or no burden, he’s down bad for you all the same, isn’t he? 
“What is it now?” he grumbles in answer to the wide look in your eyes. “You’re starin’ at me all weird-like again.”
You swallow the saliva that’s gathered in your mouth for what must be the millionth time tonight. It’s runny and thin, laced with adrenaline. “Are you courting me right now?”
“Huh?” His face twists into a look of pure confusion for a second time in a row.
“You’re pushing your chest out like a bird during one of those mating dances that you see on TV,” you explain, tugging on his T-shirt as if it’ll help you prove your point. “Are you trying to impress me or something?”
“Tsch… What? No... It’s just, ah… The fuck?” He blinks, shaking his head as if he’s trying to get his thoughts in order. His back hunches slightly with the action. You’ve caught him completely off guard.
You smile. “What is it, then?”
“It’s just my body reacting to a mate’s touch, damn… I told you about it in the woods last week, didn’t I? What’s with all the questions all of a sudden?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth once more, apparently unaffected by what you have to say, but also immediately draws back; causing distance until he’s lying between you and the backrest of the couch instead of on top of you. 
You’re not aware of it, but he’s beginning to blush like a sucker after he realizes how that treacherously primal part of his brain had made him react just now — fully without his knowledge.
Trying to appear bigger and wooing you with his scent? What are you, animals? Besides, you aren’t even capable of distinguishing pheromones like he can, for fuck’s sake! What’s he doing all of this weird shit for?!
This time, heat continues to climb up Kiba’s neck instead of yours, and overtakes his entire face with such speed that it makes his cheeks itchy. Even the tips of his ears have turned hot to the touch. He feels like he’s on the verge of melting into a puddle of despair any second now.
Gosh, you must think he’s such a loser.
He doesn’t say anything else as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer until your back is pressed against his chest, feeling slightly relieved to not hear any protests from your side. 
But to some extent, he’s not all that surprised. While you might be taking this entire thing slow, spooning is nothing new. You’ve done it even whilst you were both desperately trying to keep your friendship as something purely platonic instead of whatever it is now. So when you compare it to all the grinding that you did just now, this is angel city.
His voice is barely above a sheepish murmur as he says, “Whatever… Let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
You don’t mention that the film is nearing its end and that you’ve already seen it in theaters a couple months ago with your friends from college. Nor the fact that you found his little portrayal of desire — as well as the feeling of embarrassment that followed it afterwards — outright adorable and that it helped ease your worries a little bit.
No, all you do is snuggle up closer to him and nod your head yes.
———
Summer passes by quickly when you’re reunited with your best friend again.
If you had to describe the last couple of months with one word, it’d be nostalgic. During the days when he’s off work and you’re not busy with your family, Kiba makes sure to take you on a trip down memory lane one way or another. 
On some evenings, you drop by the small convenience store that you used to constantly occupy as kids, so that you can buy popsicles and then sit on a bench in the nearby park; taking turns licking the different flavours and talking late into the night, or at least until the artificial colouring has been wiped away from your tongues. 
On particularly hot days, you drive to the lake where you’ve both been taught how to swim by your parents in order to cool off, and compete to see who's able to hold their breath the longest. He ends up being the winner almost every time, of course, and never misses the chance to rub it in your face.
You even still do shitty movie marathons, however this time they’re occasionally accompanied by Kiba’s roommate, Kankuro, who you’ve since learned is a pretty cool guy, despite his slightly odd obsession with purple face paint. He’s also the one who’d helped you bake Kiba’s birthday cake back in July.
All in all, things concerning your best friend have remained quite the same as they’ve always been. Well, most of them did.
There may have been a couple of changes here and there ever since you’ve learned you were his mate. 
Some are pretty tame. For example, you can’t brush over the look of pure longing that appears in his eyes as he watches you lick a rogue droplet of sugar whenever you’re sucking on the popsicle he’d just handed you. Or the way his touch lingers on your shoulders and traces down your spine and hips when you ask him to help you apply sunscreen on your back after your swim.
But then there are some of the more twisted kind. Sometimes, whenever Kankuro can’t make it to your movie marathons, you also can’t ignore the way your best friend sighs and grunts and whispers the nastiest of profanities into the side of your neck as you sit on his lap and rub your clothed pussy against the hard-on in his pants.
It’s always done the same way. On his couch, in the dark, and never talked about afterwards since it tends to make you both agitated with even more lust. Your skirt is bunched up in his too-big hands — you’re always making sure they don’t go any farther than that because they try, oh boy, do they try — and there are zero kisses exchanged between you in order to keep things moving slow but still giving him the fix he needs so that he doesn’t slip into another unannounced rut, as he likes to call it.
So far, your compromise shows promise. Over the span of the last couple of weeks, there had only been one single occasion of actual skin on skin contact; when he’d somehow managed to distract you for long enough to pull your panties to the side and pull out his cock from the confines of his clothes without you being quick enough to stop him. 
However, much to his — and secretly your own — misfortune, you’d been mewling his name and rubbing your pussy against him for a long while back then, consequently overstimulating him to great, almost unfair lengths in the process. The second his cockhead had gotten the chance to bump against your soaked entrance, he was not bound to last. 
So he’d spilled everything he had with a sharp hiss and a frustrated “fuuuck” and just like that, you were safe from being pounded into oblivion once again — if you exclude the sticky, cloudy white mess splattering between your thighs, that is.
And that was that.
But now, with summer coming to a swift end and a new school year waiting right around the corner, the time has come for you to say goodbye to your best friend once again.
Kiba accompanies you to the airport and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug when it’s time for you to board your flight, his features unusually impassive during the entirety of it. He leans down to kiss your cheek, surely receiving curious glances from your parents with the act, and mumbles something about texting him when you land so that he knows you’re safe.
You do as he asks of you when you arrive to campus that day, even going as far as to send him a picture of your little student apartment that you share with two other roommates, jokingly calling it a dump. He reads your text message almost instantly, but his reply is curt. When you call him to say good night after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff and settling in, you barely recognize the sound of his voice.
“G’night,” he mutters. “Try not to be a dumbass on your first day.”
The jab is meant to be playful, but instead it comes across as void of any kind of emotion whatsoever. Flat and unlively. You can tell even if he desperately tries to cover it up with more teasing remarks and lame jokes. 
It gets better over time, though. You’re well aware that he’s handling the distance way worse than any other regular human would, especially since he’s a semi-mated wolf now, so you try to keep him in the loop as often as you can. He, on the other hand, tries to give you space and keeps his more possessive side on a tight leash. His main priority is to make your friendship — or should you say situationship — work.
Speaking of his more possessive side, you’ve both made precautions to lessen the chance of the beast within him from going haywire. He makes sure to go completely off the grid during a full moon, and every so often, you mail him a T-shirt or two so that he still has a way of inhaling your scent and thus satisfying the urge to come seek you out. After the scent fades out, he sends your clothes back washed, but not ironed; typical for a man like him, before the cycle repeats itself again.
He’d once, jokingly, not so jokingly, texted you about sending him a pair of your panties instead, however all he got in response to that was an angry wall of text and a series of pissed off-looking emojis. He’d abandoned the idea soon after.
You do indulge him with phone sex from time to time, though. And while you do keep telling yourself that it’s done solely to keep him in-check, deep down, you know that that simply isn’t the case. 
Because when the hour is late, Kiba likes to remind you just how badly he misses you in that warm, rich, confident voice that makes your back want to straight up arch from the bed. Likes to talk about all the things that he wants to do to you with zero hesitance — hesitance you wish you, yourself didn’t have — while he strokes his cock; all until you find yourself reaching into the drawer of your nightstand so that you can hurriedly press your trusty pink vibrator to your clit. 
But it’s not just you who finds him hot — your roommates do, too. They’ve peered over your shoulder once or twice while you were FaceTiming him in the kitchen, fully clothed, of course, and have since been asking for regular updates on your so-called ‘boyfriend’, wondering when they’ll get to meet the guy who’s actually managed to swipe the rug from underneath your feet, in person.
And the answer is: on Halloween. They’ll meet him on Halloween.
———
Oddly enough, Kiba seems to fit right into the college party scene, despite never pursuing a degree of his own.
After successfully planning out his visit together, you realize that the frat house that you’ve dragged him to in order to celebrate this year’s Halloween in, is packed with people; some of them in costumes, while the rest have decided to go for a more casual approach. 
Dressed in jeans, the same faded baseball cap that you saw him wearing back when you’d bumped into him in the grocery store at the beginning of summer, and a simple T-shirt and flannel combo, your best friend doesn’t particularly stand out amongst the latter. 
He’d landed this morning, grinning tiredly and with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. You nearly started bursting at the seams with joy the second you caught sight of him halfway across the airport. He wasn’t much better.
Hugging out all your emotions first, you then spent the entire day catching up, as well as healing the phantom wounds that the distance had caused. It was nice. So nice, in fact, that you’d almost forgotten how easy and complicated it was at the same time with him.
And now here you are. Together again.
Eyes glimmering with fondness, you watch as he leisurely chats with your friends who he’d already gotten to meet back at the apartment. As is expected for an extrovert like Kiba, he has no problem keeping up with the conversation. 
His body language is relaxed even when he has to lie about wearing yellow contacts; swiftly feigning that it’s because he wants to keep the spirit of Halloween alive and because he, of course, couldn’t possibly have brought a full costume with him to the airport. 
Meanwhile, you’re well aware that his reasoning couldn’t be farther from the truth. His eyes had shifted from their regular brown shade the second he’d caught you emerging from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of tight jeans and with a bunny ears headband sitting atop your head — a rather mediocre choice of a costume, but one that you knew he’d dig nonetheless.
“What, no heels?”
“Have you seen the floor of a frat house before?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re going to now, and then you’re going to understand why I chose normal girl shoes.”
While riddled with mischief at your answer, his eyes haven’t gone back to normal since.
And neither has he. No, instead he had spent a good twenty minutes scenting you in the privacy of your little bedroom; embracing you and running his rough hands up and down your arms and sides, touching your neck and face all over until you were almost late to the party and glittery highlighter coated every last one of his fingers.
“You do realize that normal people don’t have a heightened sense of smell like you do, right?” you’d grumbled by the fourth repetitive stroke, making a face when he even went as far as to lean in and start rubbing his cheek against your own. “Nobody is going to be like, ‘Woah, watch out! This one smells like werewolf property!’ if I get kidnapped or something.”
The laughter-like sound he’d let out had come across as terribly jeering. “You say that like anyone would even have a chance of forcibly taking you away from me.” 
With a soft incline of your head, you had asked, “Wouldn’t they?”
“‘Course not, you silly bunny.” He’d looked you right in the eyes then, his pupils briefly thinning into feline-like slits, allowing the apex predator within to shine on through. “I’d rip out their throats with my teeth before they’d even get a chance to blink. Easy as pie.” 
His gaze had been shiver-inducing. The words even more so. “But what if there would be like… ten of them?”
“I can take on ten people.”
“You can barely handle me whenever I’m in a lousy mood.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that you don’t count, then.” The grin he’d given you in return had been sharp. Too sharp, despite the cutesy dimple digging into his cheek. Especially as he held your face between his palms and purred, “Also, you’re not my property, you’re my mate. It’s supposed to make us equals, so please try to act like one for my sake, yeah?”
And they said romance was dead.
“Yeah.” Attempting to not pay attention to the butterflies that were wildly fluttering in your stomach again, all you managed was, “Equals who are going to be late.”
“Shit.” His eyes got wide as saucers at that. He’d given one last stroke, one last squeeze, and had pressed a hasty kiss onto your forehead before saying, “Okay, I think I’m done... Ready when you are.”
You’re unsure if it’s placebo, but you think his scent still clings to you even two hours later, when the party is in full swing and you’re chatting away with one of your guy friends in the kitchen.
Besides said friend, there are only two other people in the room — none of which you can recognize, from the way they’re too busy eating face only a few meters away from you. Kiba, reluctant to leave your side despite your many reassurances, had somehow gotten dragged into a round of beer pong by a group of rowdy jocks.
Every so often, you can hear cheering coming from one of the rooms nearby. You don’t doubt that he’s acquired quite a crowd for himself already. His dream and your worst nightmare.
“So, what’s the deal with you and the dunce?”
Blinking at the sudden question that whisks away your brain fog, you look up from your plastic cup of cranberry juice that others have been using to mix their cheap vodka with. Not feeling like taking the risk of being hungover because of particularly shitty booze the next morning, you’d decided to stay sober tonight, hence the juice.
“Sorry, what?” you ask. “I wasn’t listening.”
Your friend, Shikamaru Nara is his name, looks at you with signature exasperation at having to repeat himself again. 
“I was asking about your… friend,” he mutters after a brief pause, using the second chance of you not hearing the initial jab. 
“Oh, you mean Kiba?” you say, bringing the cup up to your lips. “Yeah, what about him?”
“Are you hooking up with him?”
The sip of cranberry juice you’d just taken lodges itself into the back of your throat at the question. It hurts like a bitch as you fight to swallow it down, unable to resist squeezing your eyes shut at the sensation, however you manage to avoid sputtering and coughing yourself into embarrassment by the end of it.
Clearing your throat as discreetly as you can, your voice sounds slightly hoarse when you ask, “Why do you ask that?”
Shikamaru, without missing a beat, says, “I dunno, he just looks at you like he’s planning on eating you or something. It’s odd.”
You glance up at the man that’s leaning against the kitchen counter next to you, noticing how the whites of his eyes are red instead of as the name suggests. His pupils are so big and round and hazy that they remind you of a cat looking around in the dark. He seems to be so high that he doesn’t have a problem with saying whatever is on his mind.
Either that, or he simply doesn’t give a shit. Both are valid reasonings whenever it comes to him.
“Kiba’s just… protective,” you manage to say after a brief moment of thought, shoulders shrugging. “He’s been like that ever since I can remember.”
Shikamaru’s eyebrow raises at this piece of information. “Even when you were kids?”
“Oh, yeah.” You nod vehemently. “Back then, it was even more intense than it is now, I think. You should have seen him playing a friendly game of dodgeball when we were in high school.”
‘HEY! AIM THAT BALL AT HER HEAD AGAIN, AND I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL SMASH YOUR FUCKING TEETH IN NEXT, YOU LOUSY FUCK!’
The memory makes the corners of your lips curl upwards. You’re quick to hide the smile behind the rim of the cup.
“Hm.” Shikamaru hums, puffing out a tired sigh that you’ve had the pleasure of hearing countless of times ever since meeting him during your first year of college.
“What is it?” you inquire.
“Nothing,” he replies. “Just thinking.”
“You’re always doing that,” you say. “Thinking.”
“Someone’s gotta do it,” he answers, giving you a lazy grin that doesn’t seem to reach his dark brown eyes.
You huff a laugh at the tease. “And what is it that you’re thinking about with that brilliant brain of yours, Megamind?”
“Stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah.”
You turn to look at him, using the chance to drag your gaze over his side profile. Over his high cheekbones, as well as the sharp outline of his nose. The cigarette that’s tucked behind his ear. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows that tells you he’s thinking very hard about something.
A couple of loose strands of dark brown hair have escaped his ponytail, framing his face in a way that flatters him greatly. Being so dark, they’re a perfect contrast to his creamy skin that’s so unlike Kiba’s sun-kissed one.
Come to think of it, they’re nothing alike. Shikamaru is lean in build despite being awfully lazy by nature, whereas Kiba packs muscle with hard work. He’s smart, rational, not at all prone to anger, and can sometimes come across as borderline aloof. 
Besides a couple of other things, all he seems to care about is putting in the minimal amount of effort when it comes to getting by in school, so that he can achieve mediocre — but passable — grades, and thus has nothing left to worry about by the time the weekend rolls around and the bong comes out to play.
His tendency to be overly laid-back was the exact reason why you had decided to go out of your comfort zone and fool around with him last spring. With no strings attached, you’d fucked while still managing to remain friends afterwards. Besides that, he was such a perfect opposite to the man you’d left behind in your hometown, that it had almost been a, dare you say, refreshing experience.
But Kiba never did go fully away, now did he? Not even after you’d completely ghosted him and finally ceased stalking him on Instagram; trying to rid yourself of the sinking feeling in your chest that appeared whenever he posted a picture with his girlfriend at the time. Not even after you’d deleted the chat logs you shared with him on just about every app you could find, knowing you’d regret it afterwards. Not even when you’d left the pictures and other memories back at home, sealed away in a box underneath your bed.
You’d been sleeping with the deer while silently yearning for the wolf.
It’s why you broke the entire thing off with Shikamaru sometime after the New Year, aiming to rather try and move on solely by your own efforts — fresh start and everything. All whilst not knowing that you’d become a mate to your childhood best friend by the end of summer.
“Shika,” you utter, your gaze as soft as your voice. “I–”
“It’s okay. I think I got the gist of it,” he cuts in, staring at his shoes. “Whatever it is that you two have going on between you; it’s older than what we had. So, it’s more… fleshed out? From being best friends since kindergarten and stuff.”
“Yeah.” You sigh, angling your cup so that you can take the last sip of your drink. “I guess it is, when you say it like that.”
Shikamaru reaches out to wipe away the rogue droplet of cranberry juice that comes sliding down from the corner of your mouth, then. However, before his thumb can even make contact with your bottom lip, you’re quick to do it yourself.
“Am I interrupting somethin’?” a voice calls out from your left.
Kiba’s jaw is set and his eyes are hard when you turn to look at him. He stands in the middle of the doorway that leads into the hall; the light that’s shining behind his back obscuring most of his face from view, however you can still see that he forces his expression to remain fairly neutral as he begins to approach you. 
Every step he takes towards you makes you feel like it could make the ground shake. It doesn’t of course, at least not in a physical kind of sense, but his anger is becoming so palpable the closer he gets that it very much could. For some reason, it’s even worse that he’s trying to hide how pissed he is.
After all, Kiba is prone to anger that resembles a wildfire — the kind that spreads quickly and consumes everything in its path. Once it’s started, it’s hard to make it fizzle out before it does too much damage. You just have to let it do its thing and pretend like everything is normal.
Burn, baby, burn!
“No,” you say when he reaches you, pretending like the entire ordeal doesn’t faze you at all, despite the fact that your heart is now pulsating wildly in your chest. “You aren’t.”
You’re well aware that he wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean the others are safe.
He stands before you like a wall of muscle, emitting white-hot rage with every exhale. With how tense his shoulders have gotten, as well as the bulging vein in the side of his neck that’s surely there because of how harshly he’s gritting his teeth, he looks like he could crush someone to death. 
However, his touch ends up being surprisingly tender when you allow him to grip you by the chin. You repress a relieved chuckle as he angles your head back slightly, making you realize that he’s touching the exact same spot Shikamaru would have if you’d let him. So possessive.
His brow furrows as he inspects you and his voice is rough as gravel as he says, “Why are your lips so red?”
“Cranberry juice,” you explain, pointing to the empty cup you’re still holding in your hand. “How did beer pong go?”
“It sucked ass,” he drawls, tugging on the brim of his hat with impatient fingers. The fireball of anger keeps on sizzling in the pit of his stomach. It makes his blood run hot. “The two dudes I went against were both so shit-faced that they could barely stand, much less score... I regret being sober.”
“Weren’t you drinking before, though?” Shikamaru asks all of a sudden.
Uh-oh. At the sound of the Nara’s voice, you watch as he slowly turns his head to the side in the same uncanny way a robot would have done.
Kiba looks the other man right in the eye, making a quick mental note to keep both of his arms glued to his sides in order to refrain himself from swinging just because he even had the balls to speak up while he was talking to you.
Jesus fucking Christ, since when did his temper get this short? He needs to work on it in the future or else it’s going to become a problem.
“Beer doesn’t do much for a guy like me,” he grits out after a brief moment of recollecting himself.
His tone is completely flat. Icy. 
You stare at the muscle that keeps on fluttering in his cheek even if he’s trying his hardest to tame it. At how yellow his eyes have gotten, nearly glowing in the dimly-lit kitchen, threatening to ruin the ruse of being contacts. At the way his chest heaves; rising up and down in such a manner that it makes you fear he’s seconds away from pouncing.
Shikamaru, being the intelligent man that he is, must have come to the same conclusion, because now he pushes from the counter with an awkward bounce in his step as he says, “Well, I guess it’s time for my smoke break… If you’ll excuse me.”
Either that, or the more primal part of his brain is telling him to get the fuck out before it’s too late. It’s so bad that even the make out enthusiasts proceed to follow his example.
“Bye, Shika,” you utter quickly, giving your fellow classmate a small wave when he passes by. Meanwhile, Kiba only stares, probably drilling warning holes into the poor guy’s back all the way to the very end of the hall.
Alone in the kitchen at long last, your best friend allows himself to sigh as a means to relieve some tension. The muscles in his arms relax as he rests them on either side of you, successfully trapping you against the counter.
You don’t feel caged, though. That’s the important part.
Led by that comforting feeling, you place the cup onto the counter before reaching out to carefully stroke him over the chest. “You okay?”
“No,” he grumbles, trying not to preen right in front of you at the touch. 
Your eyebrows draw together. “What’s wrong?”
His do, too. “You know damn well what’s wrong.”
“Enlighten me, please.”
“Not that it’s a you problem or anything…” He sighs again and this time the sound is way longer than earlier. “But I can’t leave ya alone for two seconds without someone immediately trying to sneak their way into your pants.”
“What?” The laugh you let out is a slightly incredulous one. “I know that you’re forced to see me in some kind of holy light because of the mating bond, but you’re seriously flattering me way too much with this one, Kiba.”
“Well, it’s the truth,” he says, his lips thinning into a firm line. “What do you think that the douchebag with the cig and the big-ass forehead was tryin’ to do just now? Ask you to join his debate club?”
You push aside the insult for now, making a note to prohibit him from saying it aloud whenever you’re in the company of others. “His name is Shikamaru.”
“I don’t care what his name is,” Kiba says, bristling. “All I know is that I could smell how hard his dick was getting around you from a mile away, and it made me-”
“Jealous?” you cut in.
He frowns. “I was gonna say grossed out, but sure.”
You giggle before biting your lip to stop the sound. “Come to think of it, that does sound pretty gross, you’re right.”
“Whatever.” He huffs, lowering his gaze. It’s not long before there’s an even deeper frown gracing his mouth.
“What is it now?” you ask.
“Nothing. Well… I just- Ugh.” He groans in frustration, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know I said that I’d always respect your decision when it came down to choosin’ between me or someone else, but I didn’t think it’d be this… hard.”
“What are you going on about?” You pry his hand away so that you can look him in the eyes. His pupils are nothing but slits. “I haven't made any kind of decision yet. Nothing happened.”
“Okay, but still… Seeing someone else trying to touch you like that, scenting it…” he says. “I thought I could handle it for your sake, but clearly that ain’t the case. I should’ve cooled off before trying to start shit, and yet I actively chose to behave like a dick instead.”
“Actually, I thought you did a pretty decent job at controlling your awfully jealous self. Give or take,” you console, giving him a playful wink. It only causes his brow to furrow further.
“That’s not the point. Jealousy might be all fun and games to regular people, but it’s different with me. I felt like I was seconds away from skinning the dude alive… And maybe eating him afterwards, I dunno,” he says, his expression turning even more troubled than before. “Bet he’d taste like shit, though.”
“Well… What matters is that you didn’t do that.” You pat his shoulders as a form of encouragement and quickly decide on not telling him about your history with Shikamaru just yet since you’re not particularly fond of the idea of having a body on your hands. “One step at a time, yeah?”
“I guess,” he mutters. Disappointment still continues to bubble in Kiba’s stomach. It brings forth a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.
You stare at him, raking your gaze over the great expanse of his shoulders, down to his forearms, which he’s got revealed due to the sleeves being rolled up to his elbows. Now that the initial anger has diminished from his face, he just looks plain miserable. Like a puppy that’s been soaked to the bone, despite that he’s far bigger than that.
“You wanna go home and cuddle it out?” you blurt out all of a sudden, tracing the tattoos on his left forearm with your index finger.
He peers up at you from underneath his lashes. Not wanting to come across as even more clingy or suffocating, all he utters is, “If that’s what you want.” 
“I’m asking you.”
He looks down again, bright yellow eyes zeroing in on his shoes. If it weren’t so dark in this godforsaken kitchen, perhaps you would’ve noticed the subtle blush tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
“I mean… If you really don’t wanna stay here,” he trails off, swallowing thickly. “Then, yeah. I suppose we could go back to yours and cuddle a little.”
You grin. “Look at you getting all mushy on me.”
Kiba gives you an eye roll. “Oh, shut up before I change my mind and just catch the first flight home.”
———
Despite initially not wanting to seem clingy, Kiba becomes exactly that after you both rinse off and clamber into bed that night.
In the dark, surrounded fully by your scent that lingers everywhere in your room, he feels safe enough to let his guard down; allowing himself to really dote on you properly — like he’s wanted to do for the last two months. 
As a result, his arm is protectively slung over your waist, and his legs are entangled with yours as he spoons you. His hand is beneath your shirt, tracing soft, lazy circles over your stomach. There are no claws in sight.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he grumbles at some point, sighing with contentment and squeezing you even closer to him. 
“Me too,” you admit, enjoying the close proximity. “Especially our dumb late night convos.”
You’ve been talking about everything and nothing in particular for the last hour or so; giggling and snickering like children and continuing on catching up, simply enjoying each other’s company. Just like old times.
Kiba clicks his tongue against his teeth in disagreement. “What d’you mean? They’re always dumb.”
“Well yeah, but that’s because they include you,” you tease, suppressing a tiny squeal when he pokes you in the side.
“As far as I know, it takes two to hold a conversation,” he fires back, squeezing your hip. “Unless you’re a nutcase, that is.”
“Hey, now… I talk to myself sometimes,” you say, turning your head to the side just enough to face him. “When I’m, like, thinking out loud and stuff.”
He quirks a brow at this. “Weirdo.”
“Pfsh.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “If anyone’s the weirdo here, then it’d be you, Mr. On all levels except physical, I am a wolf.”
“See, that doesn’t make any sense because I am a wolf on a physical level.” He drums his fingers against your skin playfully, hinting that he’ll maybe poke you in the side again. “Therefore, your joke sucks.”
“It’s still funny, though,” you protest. “And look at you, using your big boy words. Therefore. What’s gonna be next? Begging for a shilling?”
You watch as he smiles that wretched grin that shows off his dimple. His laugh is quiet, but it kindles a flame of affection inside your heart.
“You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that?” he says, still laughing.
“So I’ve been told, yeah,” you reply with a beaming smile of your own. His mood is contagious. “Multiple times.”
“Mm. I like it, though. This more confident, outgoing version of you.” After a brief moment of silence, he adds, “It makes me less worried.”
You ask, “Less worried about what?”
“If you’ll be able to stick up for yourself in case I’m not around,” he explains, not offering much more.
You blink as slight confusion begins to settle in. “And why wouldn’t you be around?”
“Well, you know,” he says, shrugging as a means to appear indifferent, but failing. “If you decide on being with someone other than me, then I guess there’d be no reason for me to stay in your life.” 
“What do you mean there’d be no reason?” you say, frowning deeply now. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware that the thing you say next is selfish, but you just can’t help it, “You’d still be my best friend… Wouldn’t that be enough?”
He smiles again, but this time it’s a little less beaming and a little more painful. “Bunny, of course it’d be enough. I’d spend my whole life trying to give ya the love that I think you deserve, even as just a friend. But let’s be real here… If I did that, it’d just cause… problems.”
“Problems?” you repeat, your voice hurt. “What kind of problems?”
“You’ve seen for yourself what happened tonight,” he says.
“Nothing happened tonight.” Quick frustration makes you groan. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve told you that already, so why are we going over the same conversation again?”
“Exactly, nothing happened, but look at the way I still reacted to it,” he says, sighing out of exasperation instead of contentment this time around. “I was ready to go batshit crazy over nothing… How do you think I’m gonna react if we meet up and you’ve got your boyfriend’s scent all over ya? Who says I’m not gonna go and try to bite the guy’s head off?”
You stare at each other. The knot in your belly tightens at the way he looks at you; his eyes still burning with that striking yellow shade, despite the inner conflict that subdues it ever so slightly now.
“Do you think we were destined to be together?” you ask out of the blue.
Kiba gives you a look that tells you he’s starting to worry if you’ve gone a bit nuts. “What?”
“I mean, like, do you think that we had no say in this entire thing,” you attempt to explain lamely. “Or, well… that you had no say in it?”
“I don’t believe in destiny,” he says finally.
“Well, what would you call this thing between us, then?” you mumble. “I mean, isn’t a mating bond supposed to be just some kind of a wolfy version of it?”
“I- No, I don’t think so,” he says, slowly shaking his head. “I already told you that I approached you because of the bond at first, yeah… But over the years, I’m pretty sure that I’ve come to love you on purpose. Like, on my own terms.”
Your heart skips a beat. The world feels like it’s spinning all of a sudden.
“How can you tell the difference, though?” you croak out. “Between genuine love and the forced one that the bond is pushing on you?”
“Um… Because I’m willing to spend the rest of my life alone, fighting against the red string of fate or whatever the fuck you want to call it, if it means that you’ll be happy, I guess,” he whispers quietly, his expression suddenly thoughtful. “Come to think of it, it’d be like my own personal fuck you towards destiny, hah.”
There’s no one else beside you and him in the house right now — your roommates are still out partying and doing god knows what — but he says it like it’s a secret that he’s been keeping for years.
And you, well, you feel like crying. Like curling yourself into a little ball underneath the covers that you’re sharing with him at the moment, and simply sobbing your heart out until it’s leaking out of your chest.
But instead of that, you look at him. You reel the tears in as you really look at him, and you say, “All right.”
You’ve always been so cautious. So hesitant and unsure — nothing like him. Ever since he’d revealed the truth during that godforsaken camping trip, Kiba speaks of the love that he feels for you so openly. 
Goddammit, he loves you. He actually loves you. Not because of the bond, not because you’re his perfect biological match, not because his instinct is telling him to do so. 
No, he loves you because of the memories that you’ve made together. Because of the laughter that you’ve shared. Because of all the good and the bad and everything else that’s in-between.
He loves you because he wants to, not because he needs to.
“All right?” he repeats, studying your face. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”
“It means that I’m done taking it slow. I think,” you say, trying to stop your upper lip from twitching. Your body feels tense all over once again; you feel like you’ll start bursting at the seams because of the storm of emotions that’s brewing inside you. “For once in my life, I think that I’m choosing to go all in.”
Kiba’s heart begins to pound so hard that he can hear it ringing in his ears.
“You… You mean…?” he trails off, not even daring to finish the sentence.
“Yes,” you say as your breathing slightly quickens. “We can give this thing a try; properly this time. I-I mean, fuck it, right? We haven’t been just friends for a long while now, so what’s there to lose anyway?”
He smiles at that, and for a second it’s like you can see him again — your childhood best friend. Short and scrawny, but equipped with that brazen assurance that used to get him into all sorts of trouble.
“Yeah,” he says. His smile nearly grows from ear to ear. He feels like he could touch the sky at that very moment; unbridled joy is beginning to overcome him completely. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I, umm… I guess it’s time to admit that I’ve been crushing on you for years, then. Well, I think! I’m pretty sure I was always head over heels for you, even back in high school, but I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it too much because of… well, you know,” you trail off, still riding that high of confidence that allows every bit of truth to spill out of you now. 
“So when we almost kissed before I left for college, I… I got scared. You were with Tamaki at the time, and I was leaving, and I thought you’d end up regretting it from the way it would surely mess up your whole relationship and our friendship.” You look at him, eyes apologetic. “I didn’t mean to ghost you like I did, but god… The entire thing was so messy, just chaos waiting to happen, and I was too big of a coward to deal with all that, especially after moving across the country and turning a new chapter in my life. And I’m well aware that it’s no excuse for what I did, but I just wanted you to know… the real reason behind it. And that I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t have regretted it, though,” he says, his gaze softening. “If you’d kissed me back at mine that night, I would never have regretted it. My relationship with Tam was a fuckin’ bust either way.”
“I know that now, you dumbass!” You huff, eyebrows cinching with frustration and stress. “But what’s the use if I didn’t know it back then.”
“Bunny,” he coos, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Breathe.”
“Oh, shut up,” you fuss, pushing him in the chest. “I’m over here, pouring my heart out to you, and you’re basically telling me to calm down. Idiot.”
He snickers at your anger, thinking it’s so cute that it’s to die for. “Well, what do you want me to do, then?”
“I want-” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, chewing on it as shyness manages to creep up on you at long last. You don’t feel as confident as before when it comes to admitting to your desires out loud, so the only time you stop your incisor from digging deeper, is when you mumble, “I want you to kiss me.”
If Kiba’s gaze had been soft before, now it’s gone utterly sweet and gooey. It makes his lids drop very, very, very low on his eyes.
“Yeah?” is all he says.
“Yeah. But not like you did back at home,” you say, remembering the urgency and the forceful clash of teeth that he’d given you because of the rut that had been cooking his brain into mush at the time. “I want it done properly this time.”
“I can do that,” he says, chuckling quietly. “But don’t act like you didn’t enjoy our first kiss. I could smell how excited you got over it, remember?”
“Whatever,” you hiss, bunching up the front of his T-shirt into your fists. “Either you behave and kiss me like a gentleman, or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.”
“Hah, all right, all right! No need to threaten me, jeez,” he says. He’s still laughing as he caresses your cheek with one hand and angles your head so that he can do what you’re asking him for. “C’mere, you grouch… Let’s get smoochin’.”
“I hate you.”
“I thought you said you loved me.”
“I said I liked you, not-”
The rest of your sentence is broken off by a kiss.
Unlike the first time, it’s gentle. Perhaps you could even call it romantic. He cups your cheek instead of gripping it, and doesn’t become pushy; rather allowing you to take charge of the pace. There’s no tongue, only lip brushing against lip. Your breaths intermingle, to the point that you both start quietly panting in-between the short little pauses that you use for air. 
Your stomach is doing backflips by the time he slowly pulls back to look at you. His eyes are not only yellow, they’re also ravenous, and they get even more intense when you reach out to comb your fingers through his hair.
The sudden yearning that swoops down upon him makes Kiba’s throat feel so dry that it’s like it’s burning from the inside out. It’s not quite the same as it was back during his rut, but he’s getting there. Oh, he’s getting there, all right.
“More?” he asks after the longest time of silence. His voice has turned completely hoarse. 
“Mhmm, yeah,” you hum your approval, turning around to lay on your back. He instantly uses the chance to prop himself up with one elbow and drapes his upper half over you.
With his face only a couple of centimeters away from your own now, you end up nearly nose to nose. His golden chain dangles from his neck, the sleek metal occasionally cooling your skin in places that it comes in contact with. It causes you to giggle. He smiles when he leans in to kiss you again.
“Wait. I’ve got a question,” you mumble against his lips.
“Mhmm, spill,” he replies in-between kisses.
“I was thinking… Would it be… too much, if I maybe bought a golden initial of my name for you to wear?” you ask, gliding your finger along the piece of jewelry. “Like, as a not-so-secret birthday present for you next year?”
“Nah, I’d wear it,” he says simply. “Only if you wear mine, too, though.”
“Sure.” Your smile grows, little by little. “I’m in need of a new necklace anyway… Just nothing too flashy, okay?”
He snickers. “We’ll get you one of those big-ass golden dollar signs with the diamonds on top, all right?”
“Okay, yeah, that way I can always resell it.”
“Meanie.”
Your hands run through his hair for a second time as you proceed to explore each other’s mouths after months of nothing. They tug at the roots once or twice, making him grunt, before travelling down the nape of his neck and settling on his strong back. Nails grazing the soft cotton of his T-shirt, you nearly start to claw at it when his tongue touches your bottom lip.
Eventually, the kissing gets needier. More desperate. You part your lips for him and he takes his time dragging his tongue across the roof of your mouth, the flat of your teeth, tasting you fully and savouring the minty flavour of the toothpaste that you used earlier. So much saliva gets exchanged.
Besides that, there’s also phantom electricity sizzling across your skin when he carefully sinks one fang into your bottom lip and tugs on it. His caution is endearing and hot to die for, but it also feels like he’s edging you kind of. It takes you all the effort you can muster to not let a moan slip out. 
What you do end up doing, however, is taking his hand and pushing it between your legs. Just like that, all by yourself.
And it’s warm there, between your legs — perhaps even a bit too much, Kiba thinks. He stiffens at your actions, hesitating only for a second before he cups your pussy right over the comfortable shorts that you wear to bed. Watches with semi-focused vision as your hips buck without any sort of doubt that would otherwise be common for you, searching for more friction despite the seam that is now pressing against your clit.
As you continue to rub yourself against the heel of his palm, more and more sweat begins to ooze out of your pores. You’re getting hot, so your hands work seemingly on their own to try and subdue the sudden rise in temperature as you curl your fingers around the hem of your T-shirt and hike it up — all until it’s touching the collar.
With your front now almost fully exposed, Kiba curses under his breath when the sweet, musky aroma of your arousal steadily begins to fill the room that you’re in. The door is closed and the windows are shut, so it hits him like a truck. His mind is getting foggier by the millisecond because of it.
“Something the matter?” you utter sweetly, honey dripping from every word. At this point, your chest has begun to heave with some untamed form of anticipation. You sound nothing like yourself.
“No, everything’s fine,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. Once again, he’s beginning to borderline drool, this time at the sight of your tits. It makes it hard to talk. “Just enjoyin’ the view.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that so?” You fondle your breasts, running your thumbs across the sensitive nipples, making a show for him just to rile him up further. Who knew you had it in you? “Wanna tell me just how much you’re enjoying it?”
Spit threatens to drip down the corner of his mouth. He sucks it back in the last second. “Bunny… What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing’s gotten into me? Well, not yet at least… But come on, tell me.” You continue your ministrations, testing his patience. “You love to talk, don’t you?”
“I love to show off more,” he says before he moves his hand from its spot between your legs just so that he can grab you by the wrist and make you touch him below his waistline. “Here... This is all ‘cause of you. Happy?”
You blink as he curls your fingers around the bulge that’s pressing against his boxers, wanting out. Let out a breathless, almost patronizing kind of laugh. “Fuck, you’re so hard… I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt.”
“It does hurt,” he says, voice incredibly strained now. His lips quiver slightly when you give him a stroke all on your own, without him having to ask or beg for it. It makes his mind shift to other things than whatever it is that’s making you behave this way. “I want you so bad; like, so fucking bad… You’re drivin’ me completely nuts.”
You smile at how honest he is. “Touch me and we’ll get there, okay?”
And he smirks, even if his teeth are getting bigger again from the way he’s slowly losing control, gradually affecting his speech. “Don’t hafta tell me twice.”
He kisses you again, but this time it’s harder than before and done in a way that mashes your lips against your teeth. When you open your mouth wider to ease the pressure, all he does is fill it with his tongue. He gets so pushy that you have to resort to tugging on his hair to make him relent.
“Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly, rather moving his hot mouth to your jawline and neck.
“It’s fine,” is all you manage to say before the grazing of sharp canines immediately shuts you up.
He moves fast after that, almost urgently, from how exhilarated he is to have you like this underneath him; only taking the time to get your T-shirt out of the way so that he can lick your collarbone next. You don’t even get a proper chance to react to it before he’s already dipping even lower to suck on your nipple instead.
“Ha-ah.” Your breathing stutters as you watch his nose smush against the fat of your breast. He’s swirling his tongue around the nipple, nipping it ever so gently from time to time and tugging on it with his lips.
Meanwhile, his hand has slid between your legs again. He’s running his knuckle up and down your slit the same exact way he’d done back at his place during the summer, making the seam of your pyjama shorts rub against your clit. The sensation makes your legs want to close up from the sensitivity that’s sparking there, but he makes sure you’re spread wide open for him at all times.
Eventually, he pops his mouth off your nipple only to begin paving a path of kisses down your stomach. And they’re audible, the kisses. He’s leaving little remnants of glimmering saliva on your skin as he goes, making your middle covered in it.
It’s almost fascinating how smoothly he moves for such a big guy. Before you know it, your shorts are tossed onto the floor right along with your panties, and your legs are propped on his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back.
“Fuck, your pussy smells so good,” he rasps when there’s no barrier separating him from you anymore. He swallows hard at the scent of arousal that’s as strong as ever now, Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. “It’s makin’ me drool… I can’t stop it, m’sorry. I know it’s gross.”
You want to hide your face into the pillow because of how timid his words are making you somewhere deep down inside, but instead all you do is arch your back when he noses his way between your thighs and presses a sloppy kiss there.
His tongue follows suit immediately afterwards and he wastes no time with licking your slit, nudging between your folds, groaning with satisfaction at the taste. Your hands dig into his hair in an instant, grabbing fistfuls when he suckles on your clit.
It’s all happening so fast but at the same time it doesn’t seem fast enough. Heat intensifies inside the pit of your stomach, spreading throughout your thighs, your legs, right to the very tips of your toes. You dig your heels deeper into his back, pull him closer by the hair so that you can receive more.
“Shit, fuck, oh, fuuuck,” you half-moan, half-whisper, borderline gasping for air when you feel his tongue push inside you. It’s longer than a normal human’s, slightly coarser too. It makes you wiggle your hips as you try to fuck yourself against his goddamn face in response.
You have no clue if there’s some secret chemical component in his saliva that’s making you act this feral, but you simply can’t stop writhing and moaning like a slut. What’s even worse is that he tongue-fucks you like his life depends on it. In and out, in and out, the occasional swipe up and down. It’s getting messier and messier, so sloppy that there’s surely a puddle forming on the bed sheet that you’re lying on currently.
And just when you thought you had it all, his tongue gets replaced by his fingers. You tense up, an alarming thought about his claws rushing through your dazed mind, however you’re quickly relieved to find out that they’re nowhere in sight.
They’re just normal, human fingernails on normal, human fingers. Reaching deep inside you. Fuck, reaching so deep inside you. Making you see stars behind closed eyelids. Stretching you and filling you at the same time, making you nearly jump out of your skin when they curl upwards and touch that especially tender spot.
The heat that’s swirling in your tummy worsens as a result — if that is even humanly possible. You feel it rising, feel your face scrunching up, feel your teeth gritting, feel your hips picking up pace, feel your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair again, tugging way more harshly than you otherwise would as your climax starts to approach fast.
“Gonna- I’m gonna-...!”
“Nuh-uh,” he says all of a sudden, turning his pace to something painfully laggard, to something that isn’t nearly as quick and fulfilling enough to make you cum. “You’re not gonna… Not yet, at least.”
It hurts, it physically hurts; that unsatisfied feeling that resides in the place where your pleasure should be by now. Especially when he purses his lips and allows a glob of spit to land directly onto your pussy, turning you practically slippery between your legs.
He pushes the spit in with the help of his fingers.
“Wha-?” Your eyes grow big as saucers, stinging with upcoming tears at his denial. He’s gotten you so worked up that you just can’t help but behave like a spoiled pillow princess now. Like a proper crybaby.
“What, hm? You gonna cry?” He sneers — surprisingly meanly — at the lost look that appears on your face now. Wiping his mouth against your thigh, he kisses it before he says, “Relax, you’re gonna cum… I just want your bunny cunt squeezin’ around my dick, not my fingers.”
“Then lemme sit on it…! C’mon, lemme ride you or something,” you cry out, voice cracking with urgency and desperation that even you, yourself, don’t recognize. 
You push up from the bed with the help of your elbows so that you can clamber on top of him and ride him like the best cowgirl to ever live under the fucking sun, but all he does is press his hand into the middle of your chest and shoves you right back down onto the mattress.
For fuck’s sake, was this how he felt back when he’d begged you to help him find relief during his rut? Your body feels like it’ll drop dead any second now if you don’t get dicked down soon.
“No, you’ll hurt yourself if you do that ‘cause you ain’t stretched out enough yet. Besides, I’ve got a different idea anyway,” he says, reaching for the back of his T-shirt’s collar so that he can tug it off. “Turn onto your side.”
You stare at the rippling muscle, as well as at all the tattoos that run up his left arm to his shoulder. His hair is messy and his eyes almost glow in the dark. He’s buff, hairy, with sharp teeth and equally as keen-edged facial features. 
In that exact moment, he looks like the embodiment of animalistic hunger. Either that, or it’s just straight up carnage if it were a person.
“Are you going to mount me?” you ask, guts squeezing with anticipation at the mere thought of it. “Like you did back in the woods? ‘Cause I really… enjoyed that last time.”
His brows rise, short-lived surprise crossing his face before he chuckles. “Hah… Later, okay? Gonna fuck you sideways first and stretch you out a lil’ so my cock can fit.”
While Kiba tugs down his underwear, you busy yourself with doing as you’re told. You lie onto your side, clenching and rubbing your thighs together with lewd suspense and bated breath. By the time he spoons you, finally completely naked himself, you’re already bending your legs at the knee, pushing your ass out for him.
“Somebody needs it bad, huh?” he taunts as he pulls you closer to his chest. 
You’re in the same exact position as you were before all of this had started, the only difference is that you’re both naked now.
And, well, you’ve also got his cock sliding up and down your sticky pussy now. Got it smearing pre-cum and arousal and spit together, making you both groan out quiet noises of pleasure whenever the fat cockhead catches against your entrance, which feels like it’s fucking throbbing at this point.
He did something to you, didn’t he? He stuck his tongue fully inside your cunt for the first time instead of only licking and prodding it, and all of a sudden you’re forced to behave like a cat in heat.
“Kiba,” you whisper, breathing so fast that it’s almost frantic. You’re clawing at the sheets and rubbing your cheek against the pillow as you say, “Put it in... Fuck… Mmph, for the love of god, just put it in already…! I need your dick inside me.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m trying,” he mumbles, frustration making him bite the inside of his cheek. “But I gotta go slowly first so that I don’t rip ya to shreds, bunny... And you beggin’ me for it is not helping ‘cause it’s only making me want to do just that.”
“I don’t care about any of that, just… just put the tip in at least,” you mewl out between words, wiggling your hips, curling your toes. Turning your head to the side to look at him, you instead kiss him with the same forceful shove forward the second your eyes land on him. “Just the tip, yeah? Okay? Like we did it back in the tent.”
He stares at you, jaw clenched and teeth grinding together from how intensely he’s trying to keep himself in-check while also having to do the same exact thing for you as well now. He can smell your need, the sweat that coats your skin, the arousal. Can hear the heavy beating of your heart.
You’re both going to devour each other if one of you doesn’t have some self-control. So Kiba tries to be the one to have it, taking another long moment to grind against you before he finally lets his gaze slip from your nearly bewildered expression, and rather focuses it on guiding his cock straight into your cunt.
You arch against him when his cockhead spreads your folds apart and slowly makes its way inside. Jaw relaxing at the sensation of finally having something to ease all that painful throbbing that’s going on, you gasp for air almost in relief despite the pesky feeling of your pussy squeezing around the girth of his dick.
It’s already demanding more.
“Fuck, bunny,” he grunts, thrusting slowly, easing himself in. “What’s wrong with you…? You’re suckin’ me right in… Shit… Makin’ it real hard f’me to not push in all the way.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, just-... j-just keep going,” you whimper out, face turning hot when you feel slick dribbling down his length. He’s so big, perhaps even too big, but your cunt just keeps on taking more and more. It never seems to be enough.
Minutes pass and you’re gradually losing your sense of self right along with them. All you care about is having him inside you. So you fuck the tip first, then half of his cock, and afterwards — fucking finally — you start taking the whole thing.
And it feels good, relieving almost. He’s got his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling and drooling over the spot where your scent is the strongest as he holds your leg up for you and just slowly pounds away. In and out. In and out. In and out.
Meanwhile, you’re drooling all over the pillow as well, blindly reaching behind you to stroke his hair with twitching fingertips as your hips help him in meeting yours over and over again. Every time his fingers dig into the soft spot that’s underneath your knee, it makes you tighten up.
His cock twitches inside you when he buries it in to the hilt, really allowing himself to sink balls deep and making you do that cute little wince that wants to make him go batshit crazy. But instead of doing that, he steadies himself. Reels it back in. Tries to listen to your quick-paced heartbeat and even quicker breaths, despite that he’s paying attention to other things.
Because even if the sounds of skin slapping against skin aren’t that loud from how slowly he’s pushing into you, that doesn’t mean that they aren’t present. He can still hear them all. As well as the occasional gushy little noises that your pussy makes.
They make his balls tighten.
You don’t know how long you do this entire thing, but you orgasm three, three fucking times during it. To some it may be like a dream come true, however to you it’s exhausting. The overstimulation is wiping you out, and yet you keep pushing, keep asking for more, keep turning around to kiss him and whine out little pleas of ‘don’t stop, please don’t stop’.
The stretch stings, as does the spot on your neck where he sank his fangs earlier, but you welcome the overwhelming sensations with open arms. In fact, you’re so feral that you feel like you won’t survive the night if he doesn’t fuck and bite and squeeze this craving for pleasure out of you.
He does a pretty good job with it, though. With how wet you are, it’s fairly easy for Kiba to turn rougher; to turn more bestial and wild and relentless with every push and shove of his hips that he drills into yours. He even uses the vibe he’s had to listen to you pleasure yourself with over the phone these last couple of weeks, in order to help you with your little problem.
But you’re not just wet, you’re also insatiable — yes, that’s what you are! Constantly making noise and clawing at him like a little slut, looking at him with tearful eyes as the fever keeps on kicking you into the goddamn ground. So it’s only when he mounts you, aiming to fuck you like an animal, that you start feeling any sort of satisfaction that actually manages to stick. 
He uses his weight to roll you onto your tummy, and pins you down by placing you in a headlock that has you gasping for air, but also has you cumming on the spot again. You’re pretty sure that it’s the sheer, utter strength and the size difference between your head and his arm that has you behaving this way now instead of the daze, but who knows?
“Already? Christ,” he pants out, his hot exhales tickling your naked shoulder. His entire body is slick with sweat — you’re pretty sure you saw it dripping down his temples earlier. It’s no wonder that the last couple of kisses you’ve exchanged tasted salty. “Who would’ve thought that a good girl like you likes to be fucked this nasty, huh?”
Your lips try to part so that you can answer his jab with one of your own, however your face is squished against his tattooed bicep, rendering that task nearly impossible. Besides that, he’s growling into your ear, crushing you with his weight, getting bigger and bigger, until he’s throbbing inside your cunt, making your voice useless either way.
“My lil’ mate,” he continues, seemingly in a daze himself. He’s whipped at this point, completely pussy drunk. “You are, right? Mine?”
You still can’t say anything other than choked up gibberish from how firmly he’s holding you, however you do make an effort to nod.
But it’s not like he waits for you to actually answer. No, all he does is start picking up speed; starts pounding away for real, eventually making you feel like he’s in your fucking guts each time he draws back and slams right back in.
“Nngh… I’m close, real fuckin’ close... Gimme one more and then I’m… I’m knotting ya, okay, sweetheart? Yeah?” he rasps between quick breaths, voice so hoarse and hot that it ignites a fire straight up inside your soul. “Jus’ one more and then we’re makin’ pups, ‘kay?”
That last sentence alone is enough to get you reaching your finish real fucking fast. Your eyes roll back, your ass pushes up so that he can reach even deeper inside you. His balls slap against your clit with every harsh, unforgiving thrust, and it’s like you’ve gone to heaven.
Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s got you trapped in a headlock. Besides it being the hottest thing that a guy has ever done to you in bed so far, it also ensures that you stay nice and quiet. 
So it only takes you a minute or two to become undone underneath him because of all that’s happening. And the second you tighten around him — the strongest you’ve ever squeezed him tonight — his thrusting turns irregular and almost kind of jerky, picking up in speed more and more until he eventually reaches his climax and comes to a full stop.
Kiba grits his too-big teeth when he cums, spilling every last drop of his warm release inside you and closing his eyes during it. Every muscle in his body hurts from how overly tense he’d forced them to be whilst trying not to go too far since you’re so fragile. But as he wills himself to finally loosen up a little bit, he realizes that that hurts even more. The groan he lets out as a result can barely be registered as human.
But it’s not over just yet. You feel the now familiar, but equally as strange, sensation as his knot begins to swell inside you. The stretch builds up while it fills more and more space, pressing against your tender walls and causing your pussy to protest as it tries to accommodate all of him.
You’re stuck together once again, panting, sweating, trying to piece yourselves back into what you once were while also feeling completely, utterly fucked out.
His breathing is still heavy as he releases the headlock to ask, “What the fuck happened just now?”
“Oh, gosh.” You let out a small, muffled groan underneath him, fussing into the pillow, “I could ask you the same thing.”
“You acted like you were in heat,” he continues, concern shining in his yellow eyes. “Went all feral on me and shit.”
“I feel like I still am,” you say, whining when you feel his knot throbbing inside you in answer. “We’re probably gonna have to go for round two.”
“Fine by me.” He muses before a breathless snicker escapes him. “I’ll fuck you until sunrise if that’s what you want, baby.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t almost die from a heart attack just now.”
He grins from ear to ear. “Pussy so good it kills.”
You roll your eyes. “I wish it did.”
“All right, that’s it. You’re getting squished as punishment.”
“No, wait-”
Ignoring your protests, Kiba succumbs to the tiredness and drops his weight upon you exactly like he’d done the first time when he’d mounted you during the summer. However, before he can kiss you and shower you in praise for doing so well yet again, a small, sudden growl resonates from deep within his chest.
His sensitive wolf hearing picks up on the sound of keys jingling from the other side of the front door, as well as the drunken giggles and wheezing.
Your roommates are back. Great timing.
Looks like you’ll have to play it quiet.
———
Dating a werewolf is easier than expected, when said werewolf is also your best friend.
But even after being in a relationship with him for almost five years now — the last two of those spent living in an adorable little apartment together — you still can’t help but be fazed by how rough he ends up looking after every transformation.
Kiba’s shirt is torn in some places when he comes home the morning after he’d ventured out into the woods to cross off yet another full moon off his calendar. Besides the shirt, you also notice that his shoes are muddy and that his jeans are covered in dirt. Oh, and you’re pretty sure that there’s a twig poking out of his hair. 
All in all, he looks absolutely dead-beat; so exhausted that he can’t even give you a proper smile as he kicks his sneakers off and drags his feet across the kitchen floor. When he finally plops down onto the chair he favours, it’s accompanied by a sigh.
You stand up from your own seat so that you can walk over and give him a kiss on the forehead. When you do, you catch a whiff of his scent. He smells earthy; like rich soil and wet moss. Like a rainy forest.
“Hungry?” you mumble against his tan skin, combing your fingers through his hair to get rid of the twig that’s definitely stuck in there. After a bit of effort, you succeed in pulling it out and make sure to toss it in the trash as you head for the fridge.
“Starvin’,” he answers behind you, his voice completely worn out. “My stomach hurts like a motherfucker from how empty it is.”
“Well, that’s your own fault, now isn’t it? If you’d transformed here like you did last time, I would’ve made sure you were fed throughout the night,” you chide, rummaging through the fridge to pick up the carton of eggs you’d bought the day before. “I even took a day off work because of it, and yet you still decided to go out there into the woods.”
“I gotta keep that dawg in me somehow, don’t I?” he says, laughing like a kid.
“You can keep that dawg in you while you’re lying on a warm couch instead of the cold, wet ground,” you reply, grabbing the eggs. “Bacon?”
“Yes, please,” he says, propping his cheek against one hand.
With his eyes back to their normal brown, Kiba watches you move across the kitchen that you’d built together over the course of an entire week after moving in. He’d boasted that he was entirely capable of doing it himself and had cancelled on the assembly guys without even as much as offering you the chance to argue back. 
Nowadays, whenever he gets another similarly dumb idea, you use the kitchen as a firm example of the consequences that it may bring.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that you were trying to domesticate me,” he muses, feeling his stomach clench at the smell of food that’s beginning to sizzle on the pan now. “Or you just want to sit on my face when I’m in my monster form again. That’s also an option.”
God, he’s so hungry that it hurts.
“You’re lucky I don’t put you up for adoption just for saying that,” you say, tossing the egg shells away. With how fast embarrassment swoops in, twisting your expression into a flustered one, you’re happy that you’ve got your back turned towards him.
“What? You gonna tell me you didn't enjoy the stuff we did last month?” he asks, smirking at the memory. “‘Cause I seem to recall someone whining like a lil’ bitch in heat from only a couple flicks of tongue.”
He’s not wrong. Ever since he’d finally allowed you to see him in his other form a couple years ago, you’d been excited to experiment a little after the initial shock had worn off. So far, there’s been a lot of licking, plenty of dry humping and zero penetration whatsoever; if you exclude that one time when you tried to take him into your mouth but had ended up slobbering all over his dick instead.
He’s simply too big, and you’ve learned to accept it by now. Rubbing your pussy over the enormous length of his werewolf cock is all you can do, but it’s still satisfying either way. Especially when he cums because of how turned you are at the sight of him even when he’s fucking huge and equipped with sharp claws and teeth that could kill just as easily as they could protect. During those times, his release ends up covering your entire tummy and makes a mess out of his fur.
Nevertheless, Kiba feels so lucky that you’re willing to accept all of him. Feels like the luckiest man — or should he rather say wolf — to ever walk the face of the planet. It’s easier when he’s got a partner to lean on.
“Hey. Language,” you say, your voice stern.
“Sorry.” He lets out a soft little hum in apology that’s meant to appease you further. “I’ll stay home next month, okay? I promise.”
“You don’t have to,” you say, definitely wishing he did.
“I want to,” he says back.
When you go to place the plate before him, he pulls you down so that you can sit on his lap instead. After a little bit of squirming and whining about how he’s going to get your pyjama shorts dirty, you eventually settle down when he places his hand on your thigh and pats it affectionately. 
“You sure you want to stay here next month?” you mumble. Watching your bare feet dangle freely in the air now, you stroke him over the back of his head with an absent-minded look in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel cooped up just because of me.”
“Yes, because I can’t take another month of seeing you be so worried about me,” he says sweetly, grabbing the fork that you’d placed on the table earlier.
Your expression turns blank. “Who said I was worried about you?”
He gives you a look that spells bullshit.
“…Oh fine, maybe I did worry just the tiniest bit,” you huff, pursing your lips. “But can you blame me? I mean, look at the shape you’re in whenever you come back!”
“Yeah, I look cool as fuck,” he mumbles before swallowing, already munching on the eggs. You just know he’ll wolf them down the second you get off his lap. “Like Bear Grylls.”
You blink, slowly. “Bear Grylls drank his own piss on live television.”
“I mean, if I-”
“No,” you cut in, sighing. “Whatever you were about to say just now, the answer is no.”
“Meh,” he says, taking another bite. “You’re no fun.”
You stare at his side profile, at the way his jaw works as he chews, at how the sun filters through the window that’s across the room and paints his tan skin golden. It’s not long before your hand is reaching out towards him, cupping his cheek so that you can press a warm kiss on his temple.
“Sucks to be you then, I guess,” you say, smiling cheekily. “Since you’re stuck with a lame mate and all that.”
“Nah, you’re cool as a mate,” he says, angling his head more into your touch on pure instinct. “You’re just a lame best friend. Still love ya, though!”
But despite the teasing remark that he’s just thrown your way, the truth is that Kiba loves you as his best friend just as much as he loves you as his mate. 
And judging by the little box that he’s hidden in the back of his closet recently, it seems like he’s going to love you as his wife very soon, too.
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misotsukiiyeooo · 2 months
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You could write a Seungcheol where he's worried because you've been sad for days, and when he asks why, he's surprised when you say it's because your kids are growing up and you miss having a baby at home.
Tks (:
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"Just one more?" Part 1
Pairing:Husband!Father CSC x F! Mother!Reader
A/N: This is such a cute req!! (I didn't know if you wanted a fluff or not so this one's a fluff, but I could possibly make a pt 2 smut if you want! hope you enjoy!(PART 2 IS UP!)
Genre: Fluff + Angst
Word count: 3.3k (not proofread)
Synopsis: You've been pretty sad for a while now and Seungcheol wants to know why.
Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3
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Seungcheol has been watching you, and he knows something's off.
Down to you pouting every time you look at the kids to you frowning all the time you guys talk.
You're all at the mall right now shopping for clothes and he's pushing the cart with your youngest son and daughter sitting in as he holds the oldest son's hand.
He notices you stop at the baby section picking up some little girl shoes. "Mommy, those won't fit me anymore!" Your daughter, Jieun giggles at her Mother.
Y/N seems unfocused somehow. "Oh..you're right. Anyways let's get going yea?" She looks at me "Yeah, I think we got everything we needed."
He brushes off whatever happened not putting too much thought into it.
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It's the next day, Monday, meaning the kids go to school Seojun, the oldest goes to 4th grade while Jieun goes to 2nd leaving Dohyun in daycare.
I make their breakfast and pack their lunchboxes while Y/N gets them dressed.
They come out of the room one by one to eat and Y/N comes out holding Dohyun and putting him in the high chair getting ready to feed him until he decides to grab the spoon, attempting to feed himself. Y/N pouts at the sight of this.
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We get into the car and you can't stop thinking about your grown babies.
Dropping them off is never easy, Seeing Seojun wave goodbye and walk into the school himself then Jieun who looks back and smiles before leaving.
The only person you actually walk to their class is Dohyun, but at his age, he doesn't even wave bye, too invested in a shiny toy he spotted. Entering the car Seungcheol looks at you. "Is everything alright Babe?" He caresses your hand. "Yeah, why?"
"I don't know...you seemed a little out of it for the past week." He focuses back on driving as the light turns green. "Really? I'm fine really." Trying your best to reassure him earning a nod.
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Arriving home you sit on the couch and turn on the TV.
A Pampers commercial pops up and you can't help but frown. Seungcheol sits beside you and turns off the TV, "Y/N look at me, you can't fool me I know something's wrong, and I hope you know I'm here for you."
He looks into your eyes fondly. "It's nothing really, just some thoughts..this is stupid."
Fidgeting with your fingers, he holds them. "It can't be stupid if you've been thinking about it for a week." He waits quietly for you to talk. "Well, the kids, our kids are growing up so fast...and I kind of miss that feeling of having a newborn baby.."
Seungcheols eyes widen, completely surprised. "That's what's been making you sad? So what you're saying is you want another kid?" You nod looking away.
"Baby, our oldest is only in 4th grade, let alone Dohyun's in daycare."
"I know but you've seen what happened earlier when I went to feed him? he took the spoon himself.."
He chuckles leaving you confused. " I see, so that's why you were looking at little girl shoes and pouting whenever you see the kids playing."
"That's not funny" You look at him trying to hold back his laughter. "It's not funny you're right, it's silly how you held that in for so long.
"You know if you wanted another baby that bad you could've just asked me. I'm always open to seeing another little you walk around the house."
Smiling at the thought, you blush, hitting him lightly, "Don't just say things like that!" Seungcheol giggles, "What? I can't say how I'm willing to give my beautiful wife whatever she wants? Even if it's a fourth child?" He looks at you, eyes big.
"Really? just one more?" You put your pointer finger up. "Yes, just one more, if that's what you want, that is."
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Reqs are open!
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frillsand · 1 year
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What jobs did Wally and friends do before becoming actors?
Before they became actors ✨🎥✨
I’m going to use this question to give more information from when they were younger. Before their lives as actors, they all lived in a secluded neighborhood where they all met over the years, with Wally and Barnaby meeting first as neighbors. Wally was often in charge with looking after younger kids because it was a small community and Wally just happened to be great with kids. He played a big role with them, serving as a kind of mentor. He usually spent his time entertaining the entire neighborhood when he wasn’t with his friends. As far as he could remember, Wally always knew he wanted to work with kids. He loved teaching them, singing to them, their energy, the brightness he felt when he knew that he was helping their path to the future, everything. It’s hard to dislike small beings that have never done wrong.
So when Wally got older, he decided to move to the city where he would pursue his dream of having his own children’s show. His friends, believing in his dream and not wanting to stay in that small community forever, went with him to help any way they can.
So here are the jobs that they had before their big break.
Howdy Pillar was a construction worker
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Eddie dear was a Milkman,(it’s not as cool as a mailman but whatever)
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Julie swept hair up at a hair salon.
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Frank worked at the public library
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Sally was part time at a small shop in the local mall.
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Barnaby worked long nights as a bartender
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Wally was a secretary to a very busy newspaper company. Often working 7 days a week nonstop
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Poppy had a difficult time keeping a job and was fired multiple times so they all decided that she was to stay and take care of the house while they were away. She would pack lunches for them everyday and kept the apartment clean. The parental instincts are strong in her with her being the oldest. 💖🌸
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Unfortunately moving to the city with no money , set them into debt quickly and with puppets being paid less, made it more difficult to keep up with expenses.
But they’ve stayed fairly happy nonetheless
Friends to Family trope if I may. I don’t think this counts as found family( my mind is slipping away more and more each day)
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formosusiniquis · 3 months
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Robin's Guide to the Care and Feeding of Your Newly Adopted Former Mean Girl
Happy @stevieweek everybody! This is Day One: Stobin with none of the bonus prompts, but keep an eye out cause i've got a few more incoming this week.
Robin Buckley & Stevie Harrington; Pre-Stevie Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 9483 | T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: transfem!Steve Harrington; Platonic Soulmates Steve & Robin; Robin Buckley is the Stevie Harrington Defense Squad
AO3
On July 4th, 1985, Steven Joseph Harrington died in the Starcourt Mall Fire. 
The story Robin Marie Buckley tells, after two weeks of hospitalization and an additional month in Indianapolis for “personal reasons,” when she returns to her senior year at Hawkins High a full week after the first day of school is one of abject heroism on the part of Steve.
It’s true, even if it isn’t the whole story. Just like it isn’t hard for her to play morose and avoidant, because that’s how she feels. She might know Dustin, but it’s too hard to spend much time with him and she doesn’t want to be the weird friendless senior who only talks to freshmen. She’ll leave that to Eddie Munson, who snatched Steve’s weird little child friends up only a few weeks into the first semester. 
Nancy and Jonathan avoid her as much as she does them, she doesn’t think they know what to do with the new girl in the know. It paints a picture, well she realizes later that it paints a picture, but she doesn’t want to sit at a table and eat her peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Nancy Wheeler’s big beautiful eyes are staring at her like she’s an article that’s half an inch too long and needs to be dissected while Jonathan Byers is also there.
So she drifts through the halls of Hawkins High like a ghost, she’s Cathy on the moors. Avoiding anyone who might try to ask her too many questions about the final days of Steve Harrington and Starcourt Mall.
Until the day she spots a baby blue jeep pulled into the Henderson’s driveway, a tall brunette unloading a single suitcase from the back. She’s got her bike across the road before she can even think of a game plan. A noise that’s almost like a scream erupting from her mouth the entire time she coasts over.
“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” It’s an uncharacteristic bit of grace, that lets her drop her bike to the ground and use its momentum to catapult herself into the other girl’s arms. Too excited for a second to remember that she’s in a place where small town gossip exists, and a new neighbor can fuel the mill for days.
But she enjoys her hug for a second before settling into a more appropriate character. She extends a hand, ignoring the laugh it gets her, “Welcome to Hawkins, I’m Robin, occasional Dustin babysitter.”
The girl’s smile pulls lopsided at her mouth, kissed with a bit of irony and undeniably charmed. “It’s nice to meet you Robin,” her voice is soft, and a little unsure. Wavering like Becky Simpson’s tone deaf oboe playing, unsure of what pitch and timbre to land on. “I’m Stephanie Henderson, Dustin’s cousin.”
The bit crumbles immediately between Robin’s fingers.
“Stephanie? You went with Stephanie? Are you kidding? We workshopped so many names!”
“I liked my name! But it’s weird apparently to be a girl named Steve.” She distributes finger quotes randomly throughout the sentence like Robin hadn’t been the one to say she didn’t know any girls named Steve. “Stephanie is pretty!”
Robin looks her best friend dead in the eye, unsurprised that there’s not a hint of humor even underneath the drama. “Never mind that it sure would be strange for Steve Harrington to die just for girl Steve who looks like she could be his cousin to move to town.”
“Affair baby,” Stephanie presents the solution with a flick of her hand. Robin notices that her nails are still chewed short, more noticeable  after they talked about what it would be like for her to grow them out and manicure them.
“Give me the whole name right now,” Robin demands, “I wanna hear how it sounds.”
Steph, cause they’re going to have to figure out nicknames immediately they just aren’t the kind of friends that can go around being Robin and Stephanie, kicks the curb with her scuffed up Nike. Her arms crossed across her middle accentuates the way her body has already started changing, Robin feels like a creep for a second for noticing her friend’s boobs before deciding that they weren’t the kind of friends with those kinds of boundaries.
“Stephanie Marie Henderson.”
“Oh my god!”
“Shut up, don’t even.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“You’re already making a big deal out of it, which it’s not.” Stevie insists.
“You stole my middle name, you’re so obsessed with me.” It’s the best thing she’s ever heard actually, that Stevie might be as into this friendship as she is. She’s always the friend that’s too much.
Stevie’s smile is small, shier than she’s used to seeing it. “Yeah well whatever Stephanie Robin sounds like a straight to VHS Winnie the Pooh movie character or some shit.”
Dustin comes scrambling out of the house before Robin can make another joke. “You were supposed to call before you left! Ma isn’t finished setting up your room, and Tews is stuck under your bed.”
They share a look, and Robin thrills a little that she has a friend that she can share looks with. “Henderson,” Stevie shouts, sounding a little more like she did this summer. “Are you really going to make me carry my own bags in? I'm a fucking lady, dickhead.”
“Sure don't fucking talk like one,” Dustin hollers back from the door, already trudging out of the house.
“Gonna have to work on your feminism,” Robin says. wondering what kind of weird shit a person would have to sort through when they realized they were transsexual. “Just because you're on estrogen doesn't mean your arms are atrophied.”
The butter-wouldn't-melt smile is still the same, even though her face looks softer. She hands off her suitcase, patting Dustin on the head as he visibly stumbles under the weight. “Don't drag it on the sidewalk, it's new,” she directs. 
He can't flip them off when it takes both hands to lift the luggage in his hand, “How are you more of an asshole, oh my god.”
“Is that anyway to talk to your cousin, Dustbunny?”
Dustin doesn't answer directly, but he's muttering under his breath the whole way to the house. 
“My ribs still hurt some when I'm doing heavy lifting,” Stevie says when he's out of earshot. “Better to be a high maintenance girl all of a sudden than someone he doesn't think he can count on.”
“Don't love the way you used girl in that sentence, Dingus.” Robin shoves at her shoulder, “Let's go look at your room, we can plan how you want to decorate.”
“I'm not saying I'm upset we got the job, Rob, just that it's weird the way Keith was acting. He always hated me, you know that. Before all this,” she gestures down her striped top, well Robin supposes she’s actually gesturing down at the way it hugs her figure, “he hated me. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t spit on me if I was on fire.”
“That seems a little dramatic, but welcome to your first workplace sexism.” Robin gives Stevie a comforting pat. Hopeful that it communicates a ‘welcome to the bad parts of everyone knowing you're a girl’ and not how she’d been prepared to work some of that sexism to their advantage. But apparently Keith was charmed by Stevie’s list of favorite films, he’d even laughed when she said her favorite Star Wars movie was the one with the teddy bears. When they’d gone to pick out movies last week she’d heard him lecture a guy for five minutes on how it was Episode VI not ‘the third one.’
Stevie flips her hair, sending Robin a playful glare, “I’ve experienced sexism, thank you, have you already forgotten what I used to look like.”
“I’m sure he’ll go back to hating you once he realizes you working here is going to mean this is one more place that Henderson and the brats are always hanging around.” She went with Stevie to the arcade once and she almost understood why Keith always hid in the back when they walked in. 
“Probably, but at least then I can stop being nice to him. He’s such a-” Robin can hear the way Stevie swallows the rest of the sentence. A frustrated, red blush flooding her cheeks as she bites down on her bottom lip. It’s confusing, the small shake of her head and how upset she suddenly seems to be with herself. “Sorry, sorry, never mind.”
Maybe it’s stupid, but for some reason that’s when Robin realizes that Stevie was about to say something mean. That Stevie stopped herself but she is, Robin supposes, frustrated that the instinct is still there. And it’s not like Robin doesn’t remember that they’ve talked about this before. Stevie with that eyepatch on from where they reattached her retina and Robin laying in the hospital bed next to her still under doctor’s supervision. Neither one of them were high anymore, it had been almost sixteen hours since Everything, they were only in the hospital at all because Robin’s mom had found them both passed out in her bed and panicked. When Mrs. Henderson had seen them both in Hawkins General and did what Stevie said was panicking and had them shipped to the city, her car speeding closely behind.
The only thing they could possibly be high on was the sudden crushing awareness of their own mortality, when Stevie’s one good eye locked with hers and she said, “I don’t want the first thing people think of when they remember me to be how I was a douche or an asshole. Or a bitch, I guess, if they actually let me change like they said they would.
“All the girls I know,” she paused and seemed to consider that, “all the girls that I still like, are good and kind and badass.”
“Including me?” Robin had teased, but she had remembered the way she had given Stevie such a hard time from the second they started working together until the moment they as the ‘adults’ realized they were going to have to protect Dustin and Erica from something that might kill them all.
“Especially you.”
So yeah, of course, when she catches herself about to verbally eviscerate Keith behind his back two weeks after being back in town she shuts down. But Robin isn’t about to let that happen. Stevie is good and kind and definitely a badass, if Keith were in trouble she would absolutely risk her life to save him -- as long as saving him didn’t keep her from saving one of the kids. 
Stevie was a good person who had some mean girl tendencies, Robin wasn’t going to make her feel bad about that. As long as she was using her powers for good, or like Claire in the Breakfast Club she was kind of Mean Girl lite.
“He’s kind of a slimy creep,” Robin admits. The kind of comment she thinks, but couldn’t ever really say with her last group of friends. It would break the loser code.
Stevie’s shoulders drop from around her ears. She’s still idly picking at the nail polish they just painted on her thumb, but she smiles over at Robin. A little sly, a little catty. “He touched my shoulder while we were leaving and I swear to god he left orange cheese puff residue behind.”
“Maybe half of your new clothes shouldn’t be dry clean only.”
“ Maybe he should help cover my dry cleaning bill if he’s going to put his hands on me in the workplace. I could call Family Video HR, probably. You know his dad owns like half of this strip mall, and people gave me shit about having money, I’m pretty sure they own the dry cleaning place too.”
“So why do these polyester nightmares smell like the BO of employees past?”
“That’s what I’m saying!”
With the job and Stevie back, Robin almost forgets that she spent the first three weeks of school sad and miserable. She’s maybe even a little distracted that they have plans tonight, and forgets that there are reasons other than the threat of bacterial infection to avoid the girl’s room in the language hallway. And more than any of that, it’s really hard to think about any of that when she can feel her bladder starting to pickle her brain.
The door to the bathroom swings open before she can exit the stall. Voices she recognizes as Patty Taylor and Molly Smith already mid-conversation filter in. “I mean she’s pretty, like really pretty, but I mean why would you even move to Hawkins.”
It’s definitely too late to leave.
“Carol said that she heard from Heather that she moved in with her aunt, she was from the city or something.”
The squelching sound of a lipgloss wand leaving the tube is punctuated by a bitchy hum, “Well, you know who spent all that time in the city this summer.”
“I mean yeah, but how would they have even met? I’ve heard like six different stories about why she was there.”
Patty’s voice echoes, through the crack in the stall door Robin can see her lean over top of the sink putting her face even closer to the water spotted mirror above it. “Well she was in that mall fire, but I heard she had to stay so long after initial treatment because she…”
There must be some facial expression she’s missing, Patty trails off like she’s dropped some grand secret. Robin isn’t a total loser, she hears gossip. She knows that Mrs. Click is going through a bitter divorce from her husband because he had that affair with the gas station attendant from the Chevron by the highway. She knows that Tim Morris got sent to military school after he put a cherry bomb in Mrs. O’Leary’s mailbox. She knows that Vickie is definitely a shoo-in for clarinet first chair even though Michael Lewis had it last year and he’s a senior this year.
And yeah okay two of those she had heard from Stevie.
But she thinks she should have had some clue that there was some kind of rumor going around about her. Molly wrinkles her forehead, maybe she isn’t the only one who has no clue about this rumor. “Because she what?”
“Because she lost the baby and they put her in the psych ward,” Patty says loud enough that it bounces off the tile walls of the bathroom. A hand covers her mouth and they both look around like they’ve just remembered that they’re in public. Robin pulls her feet up on the toilet seat with her.
“What baby?” Molly asks in a whisper that seems even louder with the way she forces it out.
“Come on, everyone knows the reason she was so upset that Steve died. He knocked her up while they were working together and with the stress she lost the baby. She was such a freak already, the new girl and her must have been in the same padded cell in the loony bin.”
“Really? I mean with Steve Harrington? ”
“I mean Carol said it so I’m pretty sure it has to be true, you know how close she used to be with Steve.” 
The bell rings, sending them both fleeing from the bathroom with muttered curses. Robin stays in the stall too stunned by what she’s heard to move. Stunned and filled with the thought that all she wants right now is to see Stevie.
She bumps into Eddie Munson on the way to the payphone. He gives her an unreadable look, mostly eyebrows that she can’t see beneath his bangs anyway, so she isn’t sure why he even bothers. Is he wondering why she’s skipping class? Or did he see her running from the bathroom and now he’s wondering if maybe the rumors were only partially true, that she’s still pregnant and she hadn’t lost the baby like apparently half the school thinks.
If a wet rat like Munson knows more about her status in the school than she does she really might have to go back and hurl.
She puts in her change and dials the increasingly familiar number for the Henderson place.
“Hen-”
“I need you to come pick me up, now.”
It isn’t hard to convince the school nurse, who’s more worried about when she can slip away to sneak her next cigarette than she is about doing any nursing, that she’s too sick to stay. So she’s waiting out front when Stevie’s new Jeep rockets into the parking lot, the woman of the hour flinging herself out of it before it’s fully in park. 
“What happened? What’s wrong? The kids are fine right?” She’s pressing the back of her hand to Robin’s forehead, the other at her side clenching into fists as she looks over Robin’s head for any creature or person that might need to be put down.
“Everything’s fine,” she lies, “I needed to see you.”
A single eyebrow raises, Robin helped her pluck that eyebrow into that arch and now it’s being used in disbelief at her own blatant lie. “Fine,” she relents, “I’ll tell you when we aren’t standing in the middle of the parking lot, okay?”
The radio is off but so are the doors, so even as Robin refuses to talk the sound of the wind rushing past them fills the silence of the car. With no destination in mind, Stevie seems to be driving a slow meandering circuit of Hawkins.
“I overheard Patty and Molly talking about us in the bathroom today.” She says only after they’ve passed Melvalds twice with no sign of parking.
“They were talking in the bathroom about us or they were talking about us in the bathroom.”
“That’s the same sentence twice.”
“No it’s not. In the bathroom or in the bathroom.” The emphasis is nonsensical, but after a second it clicks.
“They were in the bathroom. I guess I was also in the bathroom but it was definitely not about our bathroom conversation.”
“What were they saying?” Stevie noses out gossip like a search dog noses out missing kids.
Robin sticks her hand out the side of the car, dancing it up and down in the wind like a wave. Letting the force of it glide up and over her like she wishes she could just get over whatever it is that has her so upset. Gossip and rumor that she knows isn’t true.
“Technically you got to be two characters. They think we know each other from the psych ward because boy you got me pregnant and when you died I lost the baby and went crazy.”
Her seatbelt catches her hard against the chest, forcing the air out of her lungs. Stevie’s hit the brakes so hard that the smell of rubber is in the air, uncaring that they’re in the middle of a main road. She’s just looking at Robin with something, disbelief or outrage, maybe a little bit of that rage she gets when her people have been hurt.
“Patty said that? Patty Taylor? Patty with the retainer breath whose lipgloss makes it look like she’s always drooling on herself, Patty?”
A nod is enough answer for Stevie to let out a little humph, setting her eyes back to the road and easing them into drive like they’d just been caught by a stray redlight.
“What?” 
She shakes her head, gazing around the upcoming turn like they don’t both know it’ll be the rundown place that used to be Benny’s. It’s going to be something mean, something she’s worried will make her sound too much like the person she used to be.
As far as Robin is concerned whatever it is won’t be any different than when she swung that phone at that Russian guard. Or crashed that car into Billy’s. It’s all just different ways of helping to protect the people she loves that aren’t as good at protecting themselves.
“Tell me,” she insists, wheedles even. “Whatever it is I won’t tell anyone else. It’s time honored girl code you have to tell me.”
“Girl code?”
“I’ll mimeo you a copy of the handbook, tell me. It’ll make me feel better.”
Stevie’s sigh is audible over the wind rushing past them, her side eye not bad enough that Robin is at all worried about it. “I just think it’s funny that she’s passing judgment on you and your possible pregnancy when everyone knows she’s banned from the U of I campus because she went streaking to impress a guy that wasn’t even interested in her. The only reason she doesn’t have an arrest record for it is because her dad is a former professor or donor or something and threatened funding if the Dean pressed charges.”
“Oh my god, really?”
��Totally, the guy was on the basketball team. He came back and told everyone when he came home for the pre-season kegger.”
She grabs Stevie’s hand off the gearshift, holds it just because she can. Relishes in the closeness the two of them can have now that she’s back and everything is better again. “You are the strongest woman I know, all this knowledge and you just keep it to yourself all the time.”
She snorts, squeezing Robin’s hand, “I literally don’t, I just told you something. Pretty sure that’s like if I had the nuclear launch codes or something and I gave them out to just one person because they’re having a really bad day.”
“Oh! Do you remember doing those stupid duck and cover drills in elementary school?”
“Oh that's really nice of you, Mrs. Buckley, but Aunt Claudia is expecting me home for dinner.” Stevie's voice calls from outside the door, only a surprise because they didn't have plans to hang out today.
She scrambles from her bed, the wire on her headphones tangling around her neck until the weight of her walkman drags them off her. Flinging the door open she's just in time to save her best friend. “Thanks for bringing her up, Mom, we’re just gonna hang out in my room til Steph has to leave, okay?”
Shoving Stevie toward the bed before her Mom has a chance to say anything else, Robin at least smiles before she shuts the door in her mother’s face.
“What happened?”
Stevie is digging through her jewelry box, has a ring Robin picked up at a garage sale because it looked cool and didn’t think about trying on, and doesn’t bother looking ashamed at being caught snooping. “Why does something have to be wrong?”
She slips the ring on her finger, the gold band and mossy green stone looks better on her than it would have Robin. “You can keep it if you admit something happened.” Stevie starts to raise an eyebrow, but it halts half way up her forehead when Robin gives the Family Video vest she’s still wearing a tug.
Her smile goes lopsided, tilts too high on one side before she wanders over to flop down on the bed. “I, maybe, did something stupid.”
Flopping down beside her, Robin swears when she lands on her walkman first. “Stupid like when you put Re-Animator in the romance section or stupid like when you tripped into the Back to the Future cutout and apologized cause you weren't wearing your glasses.”
“Stupid like I don't know, Rob, you know how at first I was pretending that I didn't know anyone when they came in right, cause I'm supposed to be new in town.”
“Like bad witness protection because they put you right back where you left.”
“Right, well I kinda forgot to do that this morning when I was working by myself?”
Looking now she can tell this is something that has had Stevie really worked up. The strands of hair at the front of her face have lost some of their beachy wave from where she's been fussing with it, pushing it back, tugging at it. Waiting for when she saw Robin again.
Sitting up from the bed, she grabs Stevie's hand in a too tight grip. “What happened? You're okay right? They didn't recognize you and do anything shitty, right?”
“Well that's the thing,” she somehow looks even more distressed, it gives Robin another clue. Stevie is afraid she's broken some unspoken rule of girlhood by doing whatever it is she's done. Which means the story will be interesting.
“So Roger came in, you know Roger right? Second stringer on the basketball team, his footwork was too slow to ever actually be any good on the court but he had an amazing three pointer as long as no one was ever anywhere near him. So he'd make a great professional HORSE player but not really going anywhere with the actual game. He came in with his girlfriend-”
“Mindy Peterson.”
“Right, and when did they even get together?” She shakes her head. “Not the point, I was flipping through the Tiger Beat that Cindy left in the drawer after her shift, cause this months Car and Driver was a total waste of money. And he wanders up, surprising me cause the bell over the door still doesn't work and I thought I was alone in there. He starts talking to me like he already knows me.”
“He was flirting with you in front of his girlfriend!”
“That wasn't flirting, he was just being friendly; and I didn't know Mindy was there, she was back in the romance section picking something out.”
“So he's flirting with you while his girlfriend is picking out something for date night.”
Stevie rolls her eyes, shoving not so gently at Robin's shoulder. “He was talking to me like he already knew me, and I do know him so I did the same. I mentioned the last game he played in, well we played in. And then he starts looking at me and I realized what I look like.”
She gestures down at herself, and Robin isn't sure if this is a compliment time or a diffuse the situation time. Stevie really doesn't look that much like she used to. Her face has softened, her hair is longer, and she's leaned into the blonde highlights that she had in the summer.
“He's all ‘Do I know you?’” She continues, and Robin laughs, it's crazy how deep she can still get her voice and even though Roger does not have anything approaching the bass that Stevie has given him. It makes the situation feel even more bizarre. “it's not like I can say, ‘What you don't recognize me from all the times I gave you advice on how to keep yourself open on offense so you could actually get a hand on the ball?’”
Robin reaches for the nail polish on her bedside table, the robin's egg blue Stevie has taken to and the taupe brown that she likes but doesn't clash with Stevie's. They both pick at their nails when they get nervous, and Stevie has definitely been nervous.
“You could have said that,” she says just to be contrary, Stevie hand held in hers it means Robin avoids the smack that would have come.
She puts blue on every finger but one, letting Stevie think as she caps the polish and grabs the taupe to finish the hand. “Hi remember me, I faked my death so I could get boobies without getting murdered in the pumpkin patch I already avoided almost dying in once. Did you know they give you a new social security number for that?”
“So what did you actually do?”
“I lied, obviously.” She blinks twice, opens her eyes wider so she looks doe-eyed and vacant. “Oh gosh, well I guess you wouldn’t remember me. I used to only come to Hawkins during the holidays to babysit my little cousin, and I always try to catch a basketball game when I’m in town. Sometimes I’d sneak out and go to the parties, but I’m shy so...”
“Oh my god, like you’ve ever been shy in your life.”
“I’m going to have to be now!” She throws her hands up, fingers spread wide to avoid accidentally smudging her fresh nails. “It’s not like I can lie my way out of admitting to sharing homeroom with someone next. I’m just lucky Roger’s never took his eyes off the bottom button of my blouse.”
“Do you remember that movie I made you watch a couple months ago, the black and white one?”
“Oh yeah, that really narrows it down.”
“Gaslight, the one with the opera singer’s niece and her new husband tries to make her think she’s crazy. We just lie until everyone is convinced that it’s the truth.”
“The truth being that Stephanie Henderson always existed?”
Eye contact isn’t easy, unless it’s Stevie. They hold each other’s gaze as the excitement bubbles between them. “Exactly,” Robin says, “and that if they think anything else, they’re crazy.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She says, but it sounds like ‘you’re on.’
“Can I be a bitch for a second?” Stevie asks. She doesn’t look up from whatever magazine she was already flipping through when Robin walked through the door. It’s too casual, too calculated.
Progress has been slow but she’s slowly getting Stevie to the point where she doesn’t feel like she has to be nice all the time just because she’s a girl. Where she still acts like the bitchy dingus she'd been before, just a happier version.  
“Obviously, just let me clock in.”
When she gets back Stevie has a stack of returns that she’s working on rewinding. One thumb in her mouth as she chews at the cuticle. “So what’s-?
“If I hear one more word about Eddie the Freak, I’m going to lose it, Rob. I mean what’s he got that’s so great? I could have taken us to the All State Championships if I hadn’t gotten that last concussion saving the twerps. I’ve saved all those twerps’ lives at least two times! I was cool. I am cool! But all I get to hear these days is ‘Oh, Stevie, Eddie just did the coolest thing in the campaign today.’ ‘Thanks for the advice, Stevie, but I’m going to go with what Eddie said instead.’ ‘I know it’s your only day off, Stevie, but could you pick us up late after school? There's Hellfire today.’ ‘Stevie, since Keith actually likes you could you hold Ladyhawke for us. Oh, no we’re going to do a movie night with Eddie.’”
She’s panting slightly when she’s finished, like she’s been holding this in for weeks. With all the quotes she’s racked up she probably has been.
“You know he kicked my tray off the lunch table last week,” she encourages. She snags a box of Sour Patch Kids from the candy counter. Popping one in her mouth before waving the bag under Stevie’s frowning face. She doesn’t even have a movie turned on. Well she does, but it looks like it was one of the weekend returns Stevie wasn’t going to put on Watership Down.
“Well he’s inconsiderate,” Stevie says, digging around in the box until she finds a red one and popping it into her mouth. “Everything is all fuck the man until he’s the man in question and then he’s the only one anyone should listen to about anything. Lucas is going to make the basketball team, he’s been working really hard on it with Jay and some of the other guys on the team.”
She’s basically taken the whole box of candy at this point. Robin doesn’t even care, just watches as Stevie picks out her favorite colors and lines them up on her magazine on the counter like a sweet and sour army. Completely oblivious to the quiet devastation that’s playing out on her face. Her brow furrowed and tight when she talks about Lucas, basketball another thing Robin wonders if she’s being unintentionally left out of.
“I just know Munson’s going to turn it into some us or them thing, like it isn’t possible to like more than one thing.”
“Maybe you-”
“And maybe that’s why they’ve been so cool with all of this,” she shrugs her shoulder in place of gesturing down at herself, too busy tearing apart a lone sourpatch general, “like it was a send off before they moved on to an actual guy who can actually do something for them. That’s probably a better send off than I deserve even right, like I mean, the kind of person I used to be. Maybe I don’t get more than one happy thing.”
Robin flattens the little red and green army underneath the flat of her hand, “Absolutely not. You are not going to let a… a… a dumpster raccoon with Mrs. Goble’s mystery meat on the bottom of his stupid shoes make you think that you don’t deserve the entire world.”
“But-” Stevie tears at the cardboard of the box between her fingers, leaving little pieces of it on the floor between her feet.
“But nothing, your little shithead kids might have latched onto the first giant nerd that looked at them when they crossed through the doors of the high school like freshly hatched ducklings but you’re the coolest person they’ve ever had the chance to meet and it’s their loss if they don’t notice.”
“I mean they’re in high school so-”
“So they’ve decided to get all the stupid decisions out at the start. It’s a bold decision but maybe that will keep them from-”
“From crashing their dad’s truck into half the cars at prom?”
“I wish one of them had been yours,” she steals the last red Sour Patch from between Stevie’s fingers, popping it into her mouth before her best friend can do anything about it.
“You’re never going to pass your driver’s test, I hope you like the bus.”
“You’re going to drive me to work forever because you love me,” she drags love out as she dances away from Stevie’s slapping hands, snagging a stack of tapes to return to the shelves as she goes.
There’s no way Stevie isn’t rolling her eyes, but Robin also knows that she’ll look all soft and pleased. Knows because a yellow candy smacks hard against the copy of The Breakfast Club that’s right beside her head.
“What the hell is going on with that rabbit?”
“Pretty sure it’s proof that you should never be trusted to pick the shift movie.”
“Stevie’s being a total headcase this week, will you tell her to chill out,” Henderson delivers what Robin is going to generously call a request after cornering her between fourth and fifth periods. Cause if it isn’t a request then it’s an order or a demand, and her small friend is not going to be happy with what she has to say in that case.
“Well that depends, Dusty, why are you calling my best friend a headcase?”
He rolls his eyes at her, a trait that Stevie might put up with but Robin is not about to. “Because she’s being one, every time I try to talk to her it’s like…” he trails off. That’s probably for the best.
“It’s like all you can talk about is your new best friend Eddie? It’s like you aren’t interested in her now that you’ve got some new brother that you can hang out with instead? It’s like all she’s good for is a ride to see the boys? It’s like you can’t ask her how to talk to girls anymore or how you should do your hair because she’s not the same anymore.”
“I didn’t say that,” he shrieks, hands waving between them like he can swipe away the thousand bees that are her accusations. She feels stinging mad actually now that she’s started putting words out there for the things that she’s feeling.
“You don’t have to say it, it’s what you’ve been doing.”
“Did she say that?” Robin gently swings her locker door just shy of closed. Dustin looks younger than she thinks she’s seen him since the first time they met. Looks smaller than she’s seen him in her life. Looking up at her with big watery eyes, waiting for her to make it okay.
Stevie’s gonna be pissed if she doesn’t at least try to make it okay.
She picks each word carefully, not wanting him to feel completely off the hook, “She didn’t say it exactly like that.”
Dustin looks at the floor, his hat obscuring his face enough that she can’t tell if he’s followed through on the watery eyes to full crying. The ambiguity makes him easier to talk to for a second, now that she doesn’t have to worry about watching what his expression is doing.
“She’s still the same person who walked down the train tracks with a kid she barely knew looking for his runaway science experiment. She’s still the person who did your hair for the snowball. She’s the person who went hunting for Russian spies with you. She’s the person that would like to keep giving you terrible advice on how to date.”
His next breath is phlegmy and ragged. “It wasn’t terrible advice.”
“Right, right, your Moonchild Empress or whatever.”
Dustin hasn’t been quiet once in the entire time that she’s known him so Robin assumes the quiet means he’s done talking. Swinging her locker back open she goes back to what she was doing before he interrupted, which had, coincidentally been Stevie related. Deciding whether or not she was going to bring her copy Watership Down to work with her so Stevie could see what was up with the rabbits.
“They should meet.”
Robin had also been leaning toward introducing her to Fiver and Hazel, but she doesn't think that’s what Dustin means.
“Who should-”
“Stevie and Eddie,” he looks at her with a wide grin. An expression she recognizes from shortly before she found herself in an elevator to hell. Dustin thinks he's just had a good idea. “Stevie can see that Eddie's super cool, Eddie will stop- And once they know each other we can hang out all the time, why didn't I think of this before!”
It does occur to her that she could remind Dustin that Stevie existed before July of 1985. That she went to school here and definitely already knows Eddie, that's where half the problem comes from even. But then she thinks of how much fun their next sleepover will be, when Stevie has brand new things to hate and make fun of.
“Maybe you're right Dustin, maybe that is the problem.”
He pumps his fist in time with the warning bell. “This is going to be great, I can't believe I didn't already think of this.”
He's still talking to himself as he starts to scamper off to a class he's going to be late to. But she isn’t about to let him leave without making sure he took away the real lesson he was supposed to. “And pass along to your little friends that her new meds didn't lobotomize her brain or amputate her legs. She can still tell you how to talk to girls, she can still shoot a free throw, she can still show you how to change a tire after it's blown out on the interstate.”
Dustin's staying with the Wheelers, Claudia has the night shift which means she and Stevie have the whole house to themselves.
Robin is making herself at home in Stevie's room, moving extra quilts and pillows from the linen closet into a fort she's making on the floor. Because today is going to be the best bitch day in the world, once Stevie makes it home from playing chauffeur. Because today Stevie gave in and went to lunch and a movie with Dustin and his new best friend Eddie.
She keeps trying to imagine what Stevie will say. Maybe Munson dips his fries in syrup or something disgusting. Maybe he showed up to the movie in his nerd brigade shirt. Maybe he showed up thirty minutes late! And the Stevie in her head has devastating things to say about all of those things, but she knows none of them are right. She just can't manage the right amount of even toned bitchery that Stevie can, the clever double entendre that makes the person she's insulting look all the dumber for getting upset at the blatant quips.
“Did you really bike here, you weirdo? You know I would have picked you up.” Stevie's voice carries down the hallway, accented by the sound of her keys hitting the bowl by the door and her shoes getting picked up from the floor and set down in the shoe tree.
“You got that bike rack for the Jeep. I wanted to make sure it actually got some use.”
The answering laugh is the one Robin possessively thinks of as hers, a little ugly, high pitched and snorting. It makes it to the bedroom just a second before Stevies face. A face that's wearing the lipgloss with the glitter in it, the one she saves for when she's trying to impress someone or make them look at her mouth.
“You look nice?”
“Such a charmer, Rob, no wonder you've got so many girls banging down your door.” She eases herself down onto the floor beside Robin, smoothing out a buttery yellow skirt that has to be new. She knows every single item in Stevie's closet, except this skirt.
She isn't going to think about how Stevie went out shopping without her though. She'd rather focus her attention somewhere more entertaining. “How was lunch?”
Stevie fusses with the edge of her skirt, rolling the hem of it between two fingers. Her face pinking though under that she's smiling. “Ugh you wouldn't even believe Henderson was a twerp, as usual. Insisted that he had to have one side of the table to himself, ordered two milkshake flavors so he could mix them together, and of course I'm paying for the whole thing.”
“Dustin being a dweeb is old news, what else happened at lunch.”
“I mean,” she trails off, making a face Robin has never seen before. Which shouldn't be possible, she thinks she is supposed to have seen all of Stevie's faces.  “Munson was a total freak, obviously. Kept calling me ‘My Lady’ and all that nerd shit. You’d think I came in with a cast with the way he opened every door and kept pulling out my chair.” 
It all sounds decidedly unfreakish to Robin, in fact it sounds like Stevie finds the guy charming. She realizes with something close to horror that she does actually recognize the expression on Stevie’s face. Just not on her best friend. It’s the bashful, twitterpated expression of a girl at a sleepover trying not to admit she has a crush. An expression that might as well be a death knell, cause the only time she’s ever seen it is right before date night started beating girl’s night.
“Not that it matters, the guy doesn’t know how to take a joke,” Stevie goes on, her smile still too shy to fully bloom but no less in place. Even as she pretends that whatever this is is supposed to be some dealbreaker. “I asked him what he gets out of playing Halflings and Half-wits with the dweeb squad and I thought he was going to climb on the table right there. Ed-weird went on for like five minutes on how the gremlins are some of the best players he’s ever played with, and they're an endless fount of creativity that keeps him perpetually on his toes.”
Stevie never actually stood a chance. And if Robin had been paying attention she would have realized that. 
There wasn’t anyone who loved passionate, nerdy people as much as Stevie.
Eddie Munson wore his king of the loud mouthed nerds crown with pride. And he was as obsessed with the gremlins as Stevie was 
“Why are we talking about him?” She flops over until her head is in Robin’s lap, flopping one arm outside of the pillow fortress to reach under the bed. She crows, victorious, holding a jar that's pond scum brown like it’s treasure. “Had to hide this after Dust put it in his hair. Put this goop on your face and tell me about what Vickie said in band yesterday again. Cause I'm pretty sure she was dating Dan Summers last year, and he didn't really seem like the type of guy to stay with his high school girlfriend.”
It's coincidence, pure and simple, that puts her right outside O'Donnell's fourth period class. Thompson's study hall, her own fourth period, was technically across the building but everyone knew Mr. Thompson came to work on Mondays too hungover to care about attendance.
And study hall didn't have a certain wannabe friend-dater standing outside it, debating whether or not he was going to go inside.
She is still figuring out her angle of attack when it looks like he's decided he is actually going to class. Considering O’Donnell is the type to write office referral slips to kids who aren’t meant to be in her room for ‘being a distraction’ there isn’t really any time for subtlety. Still, she’s surprised by the tone of her own voice when she shouts, “Munson!”
Heads turn in the hallway, of course they do. Faces she only knows by virtue of twelve years of school watching on with a lust for future violence she recognizes from that concrete bunker. But if Munson is concerned that a girl he's never spoken to is yelling at him, he doesn't look it as he turns on both heels to face her.
He smiles first, benignly pleasant. But Stevie taught her that trick, smiling to diffuse anger or hide how she has no idea how the person talking to her actually knows her. Munson is doing both, they had two classes together last semester and she was in the orchestra for the last school musical.
The blankness eventually clears from his eyes, “Bye Bye Buckley!”
Not about to be distracted by the dumbest reference she's ever heard, and with the eyes of at least two people she can see on her, she drags Munson away from class. It's bound to be all around the school by the dismissal bell, but rumor is less important than the mission.
The girls room by the library is always abandoned. The mirrors are dingy or cracked and it always smells like cat piss for no discernable reason. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He looks around the bathroom with an inquisitive eye like the grimy bluish tile is somehow more interesting than her. “I'm not actually carrying if you were-”
He doesn't have the decency to stumble when she shoves at his chest, trying to push him back into the stall doors.
“What are your intentions with Stevie?”
“Ah yes, the mysterious cousin Henderson. Who says I have intentions?” His only saving grace is that it takes her too long to get her thoughts in order. A miasma of rants at the tip of her tongue about Stevie and how she was too good for him and any thoughts he might be having about her. 
But in the time it takes to see through her friend based rage, she’s able to watch a transformation take place on Eddie’s face. The smug aloofness that had taken over his face from the moment she cornered him in the hallway washes away. Leaving behind something giddy and young, bright eyes and a flushed face. “Unless she was asking about me. You two are bosom friends, are you not Diana? That would make me Gilbert Blythe, hell of a role.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of people who wish they could break a slate over your head.”
“You’re probably right, doesn’t answer my question though. Was your dear Anne Shirley talking about me?” He scuffs a boot against the floor. Doing an impressive impression of a bashful school boy while standing in front of her in his ratted out, heavy metal glory. There are at least four chains that she can spot on his outfit right now but his face would be just as at home on Opie Taylor.
But she isn’t going to get fooled by some routine. She has something to say and she’s going to make sure she says it.
“She’s really special, Munson. She’s not some cheerleader you fuck in the woods because she wants to get back at her parents that are divorcing and you’re the scariest thing available that isn’t actually dangerous.”
“Tell me how you really feel, Buckley.” The retort seems to drag itself from his mouth on instinct. Cause the aw shucks routine he’d been giving is lying broken on the floor replaced by open mouthed shock.
“I am.” The bell rings, marking them both officially late for class. She glares him down, waiting to see if he’ll leave, effectively flinching first. He glares back. “She’s an athlete, likes sports.”
Maybe it’s wrong to list the things about Stevie that she knows Munson won’t like. But she also isn’t about to let her best friend water herself down for some stupid boy.
“Wayne will be thrilled to have someone who understands what he’s talking about. Go team.”
“She hates fantasy. Dustin loaned her his copy of Fellowship of the Ring and she gave it back when they kept singing.”
“I’m sure she’d like it if I sang them for her.”
“She isn’t going to become some demure, church mouse just because you’re around. She’s snarky and confident and, and…”
He sets a hand on her shoulder in a way that is so patronizing she wishes she were as good at being a bitch as Stevie was. But she suppresses her first instinct to bite him if only because she’s working at keeping up her record of 4578 days without biting a classmate.
“I don’t know what any of that means,” he says, “but it sounds like you and your hot best friend have been talking about me. So thanks for that intel, Bucks.”
People wearing leather and motorcycle boots shouldn’t be able to skip. The stupid hanky in his stupid pocket flaps behind him like a wagging tail as Munson leaves her in the girls room with the smell of ammonia.
Stevie has Breakfast at Tiffany’s playing on the TV when Robin makes it to work. Keith let them have most of their shifts together but drew the line at letting Stevie shut the store down to come pick her up after school. So on days where Stevie works a double, she’s stuck arriving to work sweaty and guessing at whatever movie will have ended up on the big TV.
And today she gets to catch Stevie standing in the middle of the floor, a stack of tapes in her arms, while she watches the party happening in Holly Golightly’s apartment. Audrey Hepburn swaying with her guest in the middle of the floor.
“Someone’s in a mood.” 
From over her shoulder, Stevie sends Robin a look. Something loaded with dry humor and a smugness that usually means something juicy happened in the time before Robin got there.
Usually.
There’s something about the look today that feels personally directed at her.
“Well it was this or Some Like it Hot, and the stay at home moms are weird about black and white movies that aren’t the first few minutes of Wizard of Oz.”
“That’s sepia.”
“Bless you.”
Making sure Stevie can see her rolling her eyes, she heads to the back to clock in. By the time she makes it back, Stevie has the volume turned down on Holly Golightly’s romantic disasters. She’s back behind the counter, head pillowed in her hands and Robin remembers why people used to be a little scared of her popular kid cabaret. Walking up the center aisle, she feels like she’s headed straight toward a tiger with its mouth open and she’s about to put her head in there. 
“So you’ll never believe what happened earlier,” Stevie taps her nail against her cheek.
“Paul Collins came in with his mistress to look at porn again?”
Humming, Stevie doesn’t say anything as Robin comes behind the counter with her. There’s a stack of tapes that need to be rewound and a roll of Be Kind Rewind stickers that need to be stuck to cases.
“Still time for that,” she says right as Robin started to think they were going to drop it. “Sally Tyler called from the payphone.”
“Sally from the basketball team?”
“Yeah,” that smile is even wider. This is almost certainly payback for the You Suck board. “I’m thinking about joining her rec team but we’ve played one-on-one in the park once or twice.”
“And she had a Family Video emergency that only you could solve?”
“Sorta. She was just really concerned, she’d heard a rumor that my best friend was dragging the guy she saw me having lunch with this weekend into the girls room.”
This is definitely payback for the You Suck board. Stevie’s looking a little too pleased with herself as she smiles at what can only be Robin’s slack jawed surprise.
“I get if you're mad,” she says and that’s all she can assume is happening, she isn’t sure how else to read what’s happening on Stevie’s face. “But-”
“Thank you.”
“I was just trying to- What?”
“Come on,” she rolls her eyes, swipes a half hearted smack to Robin’s shoulder. “I’ve been on the other side of that, you know. Well meaning friends pulling me aside to ask what my intentions are.”
“Oh my god, did she follow us in there?”
Delight makes Stevie’s eyes sparkle, “Did you actually? I love you. Did you give him hell?”
“I think he got the upperhand.”
“I think it’s all the playing pretend. The shitheads will run circles around the unprepared too.”
It seems a little too good to be true. “You really aren’t mad?”
Someone abandoned The Breakfast Club at the scene where Ally Sheedy gets the makeover. It had seemed like a stupid scene when she’d seen it in theaters, now it makes something weird pit in the bottom of her stomach. She doesn’t get the chance to hit rewind, to send Allison back in time so she can be strange and herself again, because Stevie is flipping her around and pulling her into a bone crushing hug.
“First of all,” she says into the side of Robin’s hair, “the only thing I’m even a little miffed about is you thinking I couldn’t kick Munson’s ass myself. But no one’s ever done anything like that for me before so I’m cool with letting it slide.”
“But we are acknowledging that you definitely have a thing for the guy with the rattiest hair in the school. Probably even Roane county.” Robin says, face pressed into the meat of Stevie’s shoulder.
Stevie shoves her away with a groan that Robin’s laughter is already drowning out. “Yeah, alright. He’s kind of okay I guess.”
“Such sweet words for the father of your brood.”
“He’s not the father of my anything,” she flips her hair over one shoulder, “anyway I think he gets off on it so I’m gonna keep being mean to him.”
“That was more than I wanted to know about either of you.”
“No it wasn’t, you like that I’m mean too. You get all sad faced when you think I’m trying to bury my impulses.”
For the second time today Robin is left too surprised to say anything. She’s left gaping, not that Stevie is looking at her now; too busy picking at the nail polish left on her pinky. 
“I like it,” she says quietly after a moment. Robin has shut her mouth by the time Stevie looks up at her again, something soft but serious on her face. She reaches across the counter to grab Robin by the hand, melding what’s left of their coordinating manicures by linking their fingers. “You’re my number one. Even if Eddie does anything about anything, he’s going to have to compete with you.”
Neither of them move as the weight of the moment surrounds them like one of Mrs. Henderson’s quilts. Heavy and homey and right. But they are still at work and as the bell beside the door dings, and they break their silence to greet their new customer in tandem, they shrug off the heavy sincerity for something more functional. Stevie’s smile turns sly, and she tugs Robin closer while keeping an eye on the man now browsing the comedies. “You’ll never guess who came in earlier to ask if we had Nine and a Half Weeks yet.”
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estrellami-1 · 1 year
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If I Should Stay
Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.
Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.
She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”
Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”
She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.
“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”
“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”
“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”
“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”
Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.
“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”
“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”
“Fuck,” Robin whispers.
“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”
“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”
“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”
“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”
“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.
Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.
“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”
“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”
“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”
“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”
Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”
“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”
Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.
“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”
Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.
“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”
A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”
“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”
A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”
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aureatchi · 9 months
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⛇₊˚ʚ₊˚✧ SATORU SAYS: YOU’RE ON THE NICE LIST ! . . .SATORU GOJO
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synopsis. you wake up to see your snow white-haired boyfriend dressed up as santa. and even better…he decides to act like him! for the entire day, gojo will give you whatever you wish for.
info. fem!reader. fluff it’s so fluffy, crack? established relationship. just gojo spoiling u tbh. kissing. he makes a dirty joke. wc. 1.2k
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There were good and bad mornings. This morning would be a best morning. Sun rays overshadowing nimbostratus clouds that snowed the night previously peeked through the windows. Though the room was cold, your soft blankets were warm. You stirred in bed, tossing once until your arm subconsciously found and clung around a broad shoulder. The corners of your mouth tugged upwards in satisfaction, and you finally opened your eyes. Everything seemed so ideal, when…
“Uh…”
“Morning, baby.”
Satoru couldn’t tell if the way you looked at him right then was stomach-clenching hilarious or adorable. Regardless, he wanted your reaction framed. Your half-asleep self suddenly shook awake, jolting a few centimeters back in shock. Your eyes were wide open as you registered the sight before you.
“What the hell, Satoru?!”
“Those kids didn’t call me Santa for nothin’.”
You immediately shook your head on your palm. This idiot had actually let those thoughts get to his head. It had been a few days since you and your lover were taking a stroll in the park, where the surroundings matched the color of his hair, when a couple of boys suddenly came up to you two.
“Are ya Santa?” one of them asked.
“Look at his hair!” the other one exclaimed. “Did you shave your beard?”
“And you’re Santa’s girlfriend?” the first one turned toward you. You hesitated, but Gojo swiftly picked up for you, playing into the idea as he always does.
And now, he had actually done it. He was lying on the bed beside you, dressed as the real thing. With the beard, too.
It was your turn to laugh as you took in his entire costume. Though he actually…looked good. You weren’t sure how someone could pull that off, but he was yours, so there were no complaints.
“So, what’s the whole point of this?” you asked. “Are you just going to wear that around all day or?”
“Well, yeah,” Satoru replied. “But also, I’m literally Santa.”
“I see that, yes…”
“So that means, today, I’ll give you whatever you wish for! Because…” he pulled out his phone and opened his notes app before showing it to you.
The title was SATORU’S NICE LIST.
And under it was singularly your name.
“…It seems like my pretty girl is on the nice list!” Satoru winked. You could almost chuckle…this was actually really creative. And you kind of liked it.
“So, what does my sweetheart want first? Don’t be shy.”
“Uh…” you stopped to think. In that moment, everything you’ve ever wanted disappeared from your head.
“I can give you some ideas. I can wake you up real good with some mindblowing hea-”
“No!” you choked, flushed. “…Not right now, anyway. I’m kind of hungry…”
“What do you want, dear? Chef Satoru is right here.”
“This is so delicious,” you complimented as you and Gojo had your favorite breakfast and coffee. You always loved it when he cooked this particular dish.
“I’m glad you like it,” he replied. He had barely touched his food and had instead been watching you fondly. “We’re going to the mall next, so get ready when you’re finished eating.”
He smiled at the way your eyes lit up in excitement. “Okay!” you responded eagerly.
“What about you, though? Are you actually going out in that?” You pointed out his bright red costume once again, which stood out from his black apron.
���Duhh,” Satoru replied. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s comfy and warm, too.”
“Just take off the beard,” you said.
“But that’s the best part!”
“…Everyone’s going to mistake you as a mall Santa!” Honestly, he would probably like that. He would indulge in all the photo taking and signatures.
“Well, whatever my baby wants…” the Santa in disguise finally said in a sulky tone, taking off the white beard.
“Get whatever you want, pretty,” Gojo had told you when you guys walked into the mall. “I was going to give a budget…just so I wouldn’t go broke, but you look so beautiful today that I don’t think I can.”
You gave him a kiss on his cheek shortly after. “You don’t have to worry about me breaking the bank,” you laughed. “Because there’s only so much the two of us can carry back home!”
“I’m afraid I’ve alleviated that problem, too,” Satoru chuckled back before looking at his watch. “They should be arriving just about now…”
Looking down the plaza, you saw two familiar faces scurrying towards the two of you.
“Megumi? Yūji?”
Followed behind them more gracefully came Nobara, who already had a couple shopping bags of her own.
“Of course, Santa can’t work without his elves!” Satoru smirked, hugging both Megumi and Yūji, who were confused as to why their teacher had invited them on his date with you and was dressed up as Santa Claus.
“I’m sorry, what?” asked Megumi.
You (and Nobara) shopped for hours with a lunch break in between until you were exhausted, Yūji and Megumi taking your bags. Gojo’s plan had sort of worked counterintuitively because you didn’t want to make the boys suffer so much, so you didn’t break the bank in the end. All the attention was on you guys—the amount of gifts, the receipts, the white-haired man with a girlfriend…
After your purchases, you all got hot chocolate before all your things were loaded into the back of your car.
“Merry Christmas [name]-san!” the three students said in unison to you before leaving.
“Merry Christmas, thank you for helping me!” you responded.
“You look tired,” Satoru said as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other in your grasp. It was already dark outside—the sun set so early nowadays.
“Shopping’s exhausting,” you yawned, playing with his fingers. “I want to go to one more place, though.”
“Wherever you want.”
“Let’s go to the beach.”
You were glad you had used one of your warmer coats today because the freezing ocean and breeze always made the beach feel so cold in the winter.
Yet the seaside looked so pretty in the evening, and you knew that though there were good and bad nights, you wanted this to be a best night. You walked through the sand, arms clinging onto Satoru to stay warm, admiring the sound of the waves and the stars that revealed themselves in the skies.
“I loved today so much, thank you,” you whispered to Satoru, even though nobody else was around. “Five stars for Santa—you checked off almost everything on my Christmas list.”
“Oh?” he asked. “What did I miss?”
“Hmm…” you replied and then looked at him.
“I haven’t gotten a kiss from you yet.”
“Of course, baby, how could I forget?” Satoru replied, tucking strands of hair misplaced by the wind behind your ears.
With the sun no longer in the sky, the ocean appeared deep and dark, but its cerulean color seemed to be replaced in your lover’s azure gaze, so full of awe for you.
Satoru kissed you gleefully, lips soft and tasting like that one sweet peppermint chapstick you loved. He paid no mind as his Santa hat slipped off, releasing the rest of his snowy hair.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” Satoru said. “I choose to give the presents because why would I need anything myself? When I already have the best present of all—you, love.”
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i heard gojo puts u on the nice list if u rb. rbs are cherished; they are ur christmas gift to me! <3
i hope this wasn’t too ooc! it’s my first time writing 4 gojo ‘n i haven’t acc finished jjk (i’ll b [re]watching everything soon dw lol)
tags: @kissesmellow21 @osaemu
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© AUREATCHI 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + animated divider by cafekitsune. heart lights divider by benkeibear. manga header made by me - DO NOT save/use.
476 notes · View notes
simplyvyn · 2 months
Text
224 DAYS WITH YOU.
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Nagi, lying for love? Thats not like him. But it is him. And he will love you today, tomorrow and forever. Even if it is just a fragment of his memory.
Seishiro Nagi x reader | wc 3.7k
Warnings: fluff to angst, ooc Nagi, implied fem! Reader, sick! Reader, some parts of this oneshot may not be similar to the original series i was gonna make, reader has like parent issues but it can be ignored
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You were minding your own business at your class, there were only a few of your classmates in the classroom. Guess you were early. The door opened, a white haired boy entered, he was with a purple haired boy. You didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, they were only two steps from your seat.
"Reo, give back my nintendo switch."
"Not until you ask someone out. I can't believe you haven't even tried having a date. Let alone a crush at all."
"But 's such a hassle.."
"Just pick anyone! At all!"
And so he did.
Looking around for a few seconds, you felt his eyes land on you, even if you weren't looking. He wasn't gonna ask you, right?
Until the door opened, your teacher came in and the lesson started. The whole class, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You think it was from that white haired boy- what's his name anyways? Nagi was it?- Nagi Seishiro? Yea, that. Anyway, whenever you check him, his head seems to be plopped down on his forearms, on top of his table like he's sleeping.
Class ended and you stood up. Every student in your class left as you fixed up your items in your table, everyone seems to be in a rush.
"Hey. You." You startled when someone spoke, you look up at the voice and noticed Nagi. When you look up he asks you the golden question. Or request.
"Go out w' me."
You? You already ended things with your last boyfriend, thinking that he was your last. You only have at least a few months. You made sure nothing special will be left attached to you once you're gone.
"U-uh, yea, sure. Where exactly?" You asked as you held your bag in your arms. "Just the mall, lets go to the arcade?" That does seem kind of cute. So why not? After all this all will be fake anyways. You heard everything.
After that conversation, you asked for his number and waited for school to end. Eventually school ended and you went home.
You entered your cosy abode, taking off your shoes and putting it aside on the shelves. "I'm home." You spoke.
You were all alone.
You just took of your shoes with a sigh, putting them aside and going upstairs to your bedroom. Going back, the least thing you expected as of today was a date. You adming Seishiro Nagi had looks. But would having a date with him really matter?
Speaking of the date, you never asked when it is, did you? You decided to chat him.
Y/N: Hi Nagi! I didn't actually got to ask you, when is the date exactly? TT
You thought he'd probably reply late since he might be doing some soccer stuff so you scrolled down to your social media. To your suprise, a notification popped up from Nagi
Y/N: Hi Nagi! I didn't actually got to ask you, when is the date exactly? TT
Nagi: Tmr, after school. Is that good?
Y/N: Yea, sure! ^^
Nagi reacted heart on your message.
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Time seemed faster than it usually did. Class ended, and you two eventually were off on your date. You two went to the arcade immediately and played alot of games. He even played a claw machine and got a stuffed toy for you!
Eventually you two had your last tokens and spent it on a shooting game.
"You're very noob at this." Nagi commented.
"I don't do stuff like this much!"
His hands went out of his pockets and got behind you and held the shooter as you held the shooter.
He was so close to you, you can even smell him not in a creepy way, you know. The next thing you know he finished the game for you and you both even got alot of tickets. You both decided to give the tickets to a kid instead. After all, Nagi already got you a stuffed toy.
You both decided to just eat on Mcdonalds for simpler vibes you know.
"Hey Nagi."
"What" he spoke while munching his food.
"Why did you take me out? Not to be a creep but i heard you and Reo's conversation about it."
He pauses for a moment to swallow his food and to think. "Cause you're pretty."
You didn't expect that answer. You heard that little compliment most of the time, but from him why does it feel like your stomach your stomach just did backflips thirty times at sonic speed?
"I see. I'm guessing by tomorrow he will give you back your nintendo?" You said.
"Probably."
After the two of you ate, he insisted on paying for the food and you left some tip. You both went outside and you excused yourself to go to the restroom so you can drink your meds.
Gladly you did bring your meds and you have a water bottle so you drank your meds. You went out of the restroom as you see Nagi waiting on a bench.
"Lets go." You said and he stood up.
While you two were walking, he stopped.
"Are you taking the bus?" He asked
"Oh yeah."
Do.. you have money?"
"Of course i do."
"Oh okay." You didnt notice the slight disappointment in his eyes as he scratches the back of his neck.
"By the way, can you take a picture of me?" You ask and he nodded, he brought out his phone and you held the stuffed toy he gave you in your hands.
Click!
"Send it to me, okay? Oh! Thats also for proof if Reo asks you for some." You said as you both look on to the picture.
"Well, I will leave now. I don't wanna miss the bus." You turned around and took your step before you felt a hand on your shoulder.
"Be safe. Chat me when you get gome, alright?" He said. Your eyes widen at his words before smiling at him.
"I will and you too." You said as you wave goodbye at him and so did he.
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28 DAYS
Its been about what? A month since your date? If it is then why do you still keep each other updated? Right, Nagi told you that Reo said you guys need to last longer to make it look real. But its not really.. I mean. It's fake, right? Right now you're chatting him all night. At rare times, you vc with him and play minecraft or roblox. Even Reo is believing this whole relationship. But hey! Today, spending time with Nagi is quite fun.
— "Hey N/N.. lets play roblox.. i don't have anyone to play a horror game with.." LIE. But for Nagi, you accept. "Sure! But you go first. I get scared easily." You took with a note. "Pshh, basic."
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56 DAYS
Time flies quite fast, its shocking really. Nagi has a soccer match tomorrow, he insisted you go. Who were you to decline? People will be shock if you, the Mr. Genius lover, to not go to his match? So you did. You cheered your heart out for him. He even kind of seem motivated, it scared Reo a bit. But hey, they won! Nagi was a bit more happy than he usually did. His best friend noticed it but he, himself, didn't.
— "Hey, N/n. Don't forget i have a match tomorrow, y' better wear my jersey, okay?" Nagi reminded to you while tying his shoes for practice. "Yea yea. i always do anyways. Stay safe when you go home, okay? I need to go home now." "Alright, Buh bye." He said and you kissed him on the cheek. + motivation for practice you know.
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84 DAYS
Out of curiosity Reo asked, Nagi seemed so out of character rather than he usually was. Why? Then it made Nagi think, now that he mentioned it, he seems like he is. He also dont know why. He didn't even know when it started. Reo said it started when he stopped playing games alone at night. Then it hit him. He stopped playing games alone when you came. When you came, he stopped playing alone and thats when he started being not like himself. He felt better than before. Not like what he was before was bad but this feeling was better. He wanted this feeling forever.
Reo asked what he saw in you. He saw everything. Everything he wished he'd seen sooner. Other than striving for seeinv people lose, he had only realize feeling this kind of comfort and joy is quite calming. Chill. He likes it
— "Why're you asking me this, Reo..?" Nagi look at Reo with a sigh as he leans more to the couch inside Reo's penthouse. "What? Can't his best friend find more about your relationship?" Reo asked as he played video games on the TV, Nagi paused. It came to realization to him again. What did he see in you? If it was your pretty face, it would be lust. Nagi Seishiro is not about lust. He eventually got more close to you.
"Maybe 's because shes really comforting." Reo also paused to look at Nagi. "Or maybe because her voice soothes my ears. Like shes singing a lullaby." Then Nagi looks down. "Or maybe i genuinely like her because her presence is very chill."
"Or maybe you can focus on the game now? You just killed us!" Reo answered.
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112 DAYS
It was raining at your school. How could it rain when its about to be summer? Gosh, you didn't even have an umbrella. You didnt have any options left honestly. It was like your unlucky day on this time. Woah will you look at that! Nagi's there! He took you home and let you sleep in his apartment. Today, you met his pet Choki. You were still abit taken aback of him having a pet cacti. Is he that unsociable? But hey, Nagi said his pet liked you, you we're happy about it. You two even watched Netflix and just chill for a while. And even ate ramen. You had to feed him because he was lazy.
Eventually the day after that, you two prepared for school together. You had cooked pancakes for the two of you while he showers. While he eats, you shower. He even helped you put on your shoes while you dry your damp hair. And then you two went to go to school together.
— Why did he even help you? You didn't ask for it anyways, he offered to help. You only accepted it because you do need it. And he wasn't particularly busy. And now he's beside you, walking you to school. You didn't even notice the your hand was brushing against his. Now he wants to hold yours. Your hands feels cold brushing against his warm hands. "Hey N/N?" "Hmm?" "Can i hold your hand?" He asks "My hands are cold though.." you answered. Gently he held your hand. "Then i will make them warm."
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140 DAYS.
What's wrong with you. You didn't go to school for at least three days. You weren't chatting him as well. Was he worried? Don't worry, you came to school tomorrow by that time anyways, he had ask you what happened, you said you just have been busy with stuff and needed alot of rest. He understood and said if you needed help, you can call him. You wish you can.. but theres no point in looking for help. No one can help. Nothing can help.
You hate it. You hate it so much how you just need to accept you only have one choice and it is to ACCEPT you don't have any choices. No one can help. Your sick. Life is this, life has 50/50 chances of ruining or fixing your life and how you much you hate it because it broke alot of your relationships and friendships.
— Nagi had been calling you. 17 calls at least in a day. 11 chats per hour. Within three days, you responded to his chats. "I'm completely fine, Sei :> no need to worry just got tired and stuff, will come back to school tom !" He already read it within 2 seconds and he sighed in relief. "Whats wrong?" Reo asked beside him. "N/n is safe." "Of course, you're worried about her." Reo said.
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168 DAYS.
"Hey. Y/N." He called. You turned your head to him as you both walked to class. "Wanna go to the night market later? There's some good food there." He said while scratching the back of his neck. "Oh yea sure!" You answer while smiling at him.
"Hey Shiro." You were resting your head on his shoulder as you watched him play his game and eat. "You haven't loved someone genuinely, right?" Nagi paused. He already did. You did that to him. He just nodded. "If you ever did, will you love them today of tomorrow or even forever? Even if they will leave you soon?" You ask. Silly, he would already do that for you. And you only. "Pretty sure i will." Oh, he will. And he would gladly do that for you. "Then the chosen person for you must be lucky." You are lucky.
Sometimes, you wonder why did fate brought you a Nagi Seishiro. What is he, your soulmate? You were just too late. You didn't have time. You came home with crying eyes, walking to your neighborhood. Why were you even crying? Because you feel guilt for Nagi? Or because your scared you don't wanna leave Nagi?
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196 DAYS
Later that day, you asked Nagi to talk with you, thinking to stop the relationship now. But is it really the right thing? Why bother even wondering? Its not like even if its the wrong thing, its better this way. Fate just needs it to be this way so you chat your 'lover'.
— Y/N: "Nagi? Are you still awake? Ik its 10 at night but can we meet up at the night market? Our usual spot there?🥹" Read.
Nagi Seishiro sent a 'thumbs up' emoji.
You were waiting for Nagi at the bench. The night seemed colder than you thought. Or are you cold? You were even shivering, you were holding yourself. Maybe you werent cold. Or was the night cold. You were nervous. Of what?
A jacket was wrapped around you from behind. You turned around and see Seishiro there, he went to you and was about to sit down but you stopped him. You'll make this quick. "Whats wrong?" Nagi asked. This is wrong.
"Look i can't keep up this time Nagi." Nagi tilted his head. Its not Sei? Nor Shiro? "I know this whole thing is fake but we need to stop this relationship." Nagi's eyes widened with fear. "What? Why?.."
"I-.. I just can't do it anymore. Okay? If you need a new fake girlfriend, feel free to do so. Thank you, Seishiro Nagi for an unforgetable experience, i won't forget you." You bow at him. Well neither will he! So don't go bowing at him, no ones leaving!
"N/n.." he called, making you look up at him.
"I am not leaving you." What? No, he can't. You will die soon! Its a pity, he doesn't even know your sickness..!
"Why? Its just fake anyways! Was everything not..?" You ask. It was a mistake and you knew it when he went silent and looked down. "Nagi. Answer my question."
"I love you, Y/N." Nagi finally looked up at you with those eyes. What eyes exactly? Maybe its eyes of adoring someone. Or eyes of searching for an answer. Or eyes of loving you. "I love you so much, Y/N. I don't like this feeling of letting go.. Letting you go."
But you can't deny it either, can you? You also love Nagi. But the only thing that's stopping you is that will he accept that your dying? When your parents heard that you were dying of a young age, they stopped caring for you. Instead, they focused on getting more money. They just kept you buying stuff. Exchanging for their presence.
You don't want that again. You don't want to feel that pain again.
You sigh, then sitting back down again, and pat the seat next you, signalling Nagi to sit down as well. "Can i tell you a secret, Nagi?" He only nodded.
"I'm breaking up with you because.. I'm gonna die soon."
Nagi's eyes widen.
You chuckle slightly "I know I'm sounding insane right now like i can read the future but the doctor said so. Saying i have some lung disease that doesn't even have a cure yet. Today is my 196th day, you met me when i had 224 days."
"Y'know, when i met you, i actually saw in the internet, 224 means Today, Tomorrow and Forever. Meaning, like, One will love you today, tomorrow and forever!.."
You look at Nagi, who was already looking at you the whole time, You slightly smiled. "Crazy right?.."
Please say something, please tell me fate really brought us together, please say that we're meant to love eachother forever.
"Crazy. Very crazy." Nagi answered.
"Y'know what's crazier?" You were surprised Nagi was able to answer you, keeping the conversation in flow. You slightly tilt your head in confusion.
He put his large hand on top of yours. "It's that I'm willing to actually love you today, tomorrow and forever." He smiled looking at your shocked expression. But, you're gonna die soon! Is he even sure of this?..
"I know you will die even if i love you right now but if you've notice.."
"I'm glad i'm mostly the last person your spending time with." You were also glad.
"You're not gonna leave me?" You ask without even thinking.
"I love you so much, Seishiro Nagi but I'm gonna die, and you! I should be nothing to you by now, I'm dying! Are you hearing yourself?" You stood up in shock.
"No, Are you hearing me?" That took you back.
"I'll say what i said better.. I said, I am more than willing to love you today, tomorrow and forever, even if you're gonna die and I'll have to experience it. How are you saying you should be nothing to me by now, when you were everything to me? Even now, I'll make sure you were everything to me, today, tomorrow and forever."
Nagi stood up to face you closer. "Y/N, I am so fuckin' glad that i met you when you still had 224 days. If you're asking me, fate brought this to us, brought us together as if we're soulmates. As if you and i we're meant to love eachother. If loving you means i will get to see you dying soon, then i will keep loving you and have you in a special place inside this heart of mine when you're up there."
"Accept my love for you already and i'll make your remaining days feel like it's special, today, tomorrow, and forever."
Dear, he did.
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219 DAYS...
Recently, you just lived in with Nagi, as promised, you two spent everything together and did everything together. Even Nagi asked Reo for help which shocked him, and you even became friends with Reo. What a nice guy. Reo was the one setting you two up on dates and places where to go. Of course, Reo don't know that you will die soon. Its just a little secret between you and Nagi. Other than having dates, you guys also have private moments where you two just in his room, cuddling or kissing. Who knows? But you appreciated every moment you have done with him. Even if its just playing video games.
— "You're still aware that i love you, right?" Nagi asked out of the blue. "Forever. How bout you? You aware that i love you?" "Always." And you chuckle, putting a peck in Nagi's lips which he chases for when you let go. Continuing in a kissing session.
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223 DAYS
Tomorrow is your last day. By the time of 7 PM, you will surely die. Right now your in a hospital bed. Sitting up, and Nagi was laying his arms on your bed while resting his head in his arms. He seemed like he was waiting for you to wake up.
Gently, you pat his head making him awake and look up to you. "Thank god, your still awake.."
You giggled. "For now. Only have a few hours left till i go up."
"I love you, Y/N." you look at Nagi and he looks at you.
He hold your hand, and puts a ring in your hand.
"Just a ring. A promise ring." Nagi said.
"A promise ring?"
"A promise ring that i will love you today, tomorrow and forever."
Clearly, this is making you tear up. You didn't hesitate and let tears flood your eyes, pouring down your face like waterfalls. Nagi stood up and wiped the tears away your face. You were trying to say something and he just shushes you till you calm down, waiting for the opportunity to let you speak.
Soon, the tears stop falling from your face, you, having a red nose, reddish eyes and Nagi having his hands on your face as you hold one of his hands.
"I'm scared of leaving you.. I don't want to leave you just yet, Shiro.." tears were still slowly falling from your cheeks and Nagi kissed your forehead and the finger with his promise ring on it.
"Yours and my love will always be connected through this ring. So you better keep it in your hands till you go up there, okay?"
You nodded.
Silence was given to you two and you decided to break it.
"I'll always be watching your matches. Cheering for you, y'know."
"And i will know that you will through these rings. Our rings."
"Today, Tomorrow and Forever?" You ask.
"Today, Tomorrow and Forever." Nagi answers.
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Ya ill end it there.. I FINALLY FINISHED 224 DAYS W U aka love at first and last sight.. decided to change it a bit, same plot though BEEN MAKING THIS FOR WEEKS BRO IM FRL. Sorry for those who read the series and have been waiting for this.. its very long and i tried to make it not fast paced w/o so much words ok..
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ayeyolooo · 9 months
Text
Memory lane
This is part 2 part one is here!
Please excuse any grammatical errors 😥!
"MAN ION LIKE BOYS BUT who was that fine ass boy you was talking to at the mall yesterday n/n?" London asked. "Oh he's someone from middle school." You shrugged and smiled.
"One of them kids that made you leave?" You nodded. You clacked your nails together as london mugged you. "No no he was the one who made them stop." You said defending armin.
"Ohhh okay." She said. "I'm happy that you found someone my love." She said smiling and wrapping you into a hug. Paris was sleeping cuddling with your dog kody who was also sleeping.
"I wanna see how they look now." You mumbled and laid on your stomach before opening instagram and clicking armin's page. You scrolled on his page.
"But maybe imma see them later." You said. "Girl you over there worried bout them,youn got nothing to be worried bout." London said. "Okay?" London asked. "Okay." You said clicking your phone off. "Now let's go do summm." She said smiling and getting off of your bed. She grabbed your beats pill speaker and grabbed your phone. She unlocked it and clicked shuffle on your playlist.
'Run tha streetz.' By Tupac started to play as you both of you starting singing. "YOU COULD RUN THE STREETS WITH YOUR THUGS ILL BE WAITING FOR YOUUUUUU." The both of you began singing outloud and laughing.
London went on her Instagram and began to go live.
User1: ouuuu who is thaaaat?
3rennn joined.
Mi.mikasa joined.
Meelasplayhouse: ouuuuu she reall prettyy.
"I know right!" London said bringing your face into the camera. You just smiled and lip synced to the song.
Armin.alert joined.
"Ohhh y/n there go your mannnnn." She said as you jerked your head back before looking closer to the phone and seeing that armin joined. Your face went hot as you just sucked your teeth."Girl that's not my mannnn." You said. "Yet." She whispered.
Niseyuserlol: whoooooo!?
^gossipqueennn: that basketball player armin alert.
Jaecomments: no way she talks to armin alert.
"That's cause I don't." You said throwing some hair over your shoulder.
You pulled your pants up and buckled them finally after jumping just to get them up. You took a breath out and just laid on your bed out of breath. "Lord have mercy." You sighed out and stood up before you walked to your dresser and grabbed a shirt and slid it on.
You walked to your closet and grabbed your jordan 4's before abusing your finger trying to put your shoe on.
You grabbed your bookbag and threw some blank journals, a binder,some mechanical pencils pens and some paper in it. You grabbed your France fragrance perfume by Victoria secret and sprayed some on you before placing it into your bookbag.
You grabbed a hoodie and made your way downstairs. You seen your mom throwing last minute things into her purse before looking up and seeing you.
"Oh hey baby you look beautiful as always." She said kissing your forehead. "Thank you ma." You said cheesing. Your mom grabbed her phone and held it up. "I need my pictures,this your last year mama." She said.
You groaned. "Maaaaaaaaa." She shook her head. "Ion wanna hear it,now pose." You did a pose with a fake smile and she clicked the button making the flash shine bright in your eye. Your eyes watered as she took a thousand more pictures.
"Okay ma. It's getting late." You said looking at your Apple Watch. "Okay fine."she said smiling at the pictures she did get. "Ahhhh my baby got so big." She said. You sat in the front with her as she started the car and backed out of the driveway. "Okay here's your schedule,just ask around and someone would point to where you have to go okay?" Your mom said handing you your schedule. You nodded before taking it from her.
You looked at it and scanned for your first class. "Psychology." You read outloud. You walked around asking for directions as everyone pointed to where your class was. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you knocked on the door.
Someone opened it as your heart was beating out of its chest as you walked to the teachers desk. She had glasses with a ponytail and a green suit on.
"Hello." She greeted as she took your schedule. She scanned it and nodded. "Okay you can sit in this group right here." She pointed to a group that had one seat missing. You nodded "thank you ms...." You trailed off you her name. "Oh it's hanji! Don't worry students always have a hard time pronouncing my name." She said smiling.
You just gave her a little smile before you turned and made your way to the back where you sat down in the seat drawing attention to yourself. "My goodness she's so pretty." One of the girls whispered to the other who just nodded in agreement.
"Y/n?" You heard someone call you. "You looked around and seen the familiar blonde. "Armin?" You asked scooting over to him and hugging him.
"Wait your name is y/n? As in y/n l/n?"the boy with a buzz cut asked as you nodded hesitantly. All of their eyes widened and their jaws dropped.
"Pick ya jaw up off the floor before someone step on it." Armin said mugging them. "How do you know that?" You asked them tracing your forearm tattoo. "Um I'm Connie,that's mikasa,Jean,Sasha and eren." Your body went hot as your eyes widened.
"My bad man we didn't mean to run you away." Connie apologized. You just shooed it off. "You good,I just hope that we're passed that point." Everyone eagerly nodded as you just chuckled. "You're so fine." Jean said as you just smiled. "Thank you." You said. Armin just chew on his inside cheek.
"Okay class so we're going to be talking about the mind responds to different things." Hanji said titling the board. "Make sure you take good notes and use a pen,do not write with a pencil in my class." Hanji said pushing her glasses up and turning around.
"Y/n." Armin lightly nudged you. "Hm?" You asked looking at him. "You're left handed?" He asked looking at you holding your pen. You just chuckled and nodded yes. "That's so cool." He said with a pearly smile.
His pink plumped lips looked so kissable right now. "Wanna go catch up wit you." He said. You nodded "yeah when?" You said bouncing your leg up and down. "Today after school." You nodded. "Yeah but you gotta come get me cause ion gotta car yet." He nodded his head. "Ight imma come get you around what? 5:30?" He asked. You nodded. "Bett." He smiled.
My kitty kitty meow meow is not meowing right now. It's growling,barking and waterfalling. Heyyy do you like hello kitty cause my kitty wanna say hi to you lollll.
His nose is so rideable. I can see his abs though his shirt. I should ask him what size shoe he wear for research purposes..
"Y/n you good?" He asked you "I'm good." You cleared your throat and continued to write the notes down.
"Okay so now that we're done with the notes! Please review with your partner what you've taken down. And exchange some information between the two. After that please give me two examples of the different types of responses and stimulus's" hanji said writing on the Promethean board.
You were sitting beside Sasha and armin. "Hiiii." She exitedly waved as you smiled and returned her wave. "Okay so I'm just going to let you know nowww,I'm INLOVE with you." She said. You just laughed and covered your mouth. "Thank you." You said barring your false eyelashes at her.
"Girl I'm so serious." She said with a serious expression before the both of you buses out laughing. "Na I'm just playing but wanna work with me?" She asked. "Yeah sure." You said.
Both you and Sasha exchanged socials and phone numbers before getting to know eachother. Hanji had to ask you two to quiet down more than once,which was horrible due to the both of you laughing out loud.
"So what's something you've been interested in?" Sasha asked you as the wrote down the answers "I've learned how to do hair." You replied as you worked.
"Ohhh that's niceee,I know how to do nails." She said showing you. You gasped and grabbed her hand as you looked at her nails. "Girllll these are so cuteeeeeee." You said looking at her short nails that were black French tipped with little planets on it.
"These $45 for you ma." She said with a little wink. "Ouuuuuuu." You covered your mouth from being excited. "So y/n..." Connie drew attention to you as they all started asking you questions until class was over with.
You placed your things in your bookbag and you looked up to see Sasha waiting for you at the door. You just smiled as you walked next to her. "I didn't think you was going to wait for me." You took your beats out and placed them around your neck. "Why?" She giggled out. "Becauseeeee." You trialed off.
"Listen I'm truly sorry for how we all treated you in middle school,but I promise you that we aren't like that anymore." You just played with your lanyard that held your id in it. "Okay." You said with a small smile.
She wrapped her arm in with yours and walked with you to where everyone was. "Y/nnnnnn!" Connie said running up to you.
This was honestly so weird. "Yes?" You asked looking for Armin.
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themlemever · 2 months
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So I had a Sam and Max dream, and there was a fucking minigame in it.
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Basically, the plot is aliens. Alien invasion, again, except they're actually good at it so Sam and Max are like "Oh fuck wait-"
The rest of it is a bit of a blur but they ran through a newly abandoned mall and almost got pepper-sprayed. The aliens are smart but kinda dumb too cause they thought they could make pepper spray by using actual peppers. (It was fucking bell peppers bro, like-)
A lot of running away from alien soldiers and actual police officers that have joined their side because they don't want to fucking die.
The part I remember vividly is the ending segment. Max gets kidnapped, rightfully pissed that it keeps happening, and is brought to the surprisingly childish alien leader. It explained that it came to Earth out of boredom and viewed the planet and all the others it's invaded as toys. (It/it's pronouns alien go wee)
This is where the minigame I actually put thought into because I just woke up and was bored manifests. You know those plastic fake food toys for young children? The alien has those, but like, big ones. They can be stacked to the height of a person, and the baby-brained overlord forces Max to play with it.
Max has to humor the alien by playing along or he'll be shot dead, he isn't that concerned though because Sam is already in the building trying to find him. And bro is fucking pissed. Like, Noir Sam part 2 electric boogaloo, pissed. Max can call out to Sam or throw something to make a loud noise to draw him closer. It's just Max shouting his name and stuff like:
"Over here!" "Hurry up, dummy!"
Two meters will both fluctuate based on Max's actions, one shows how close Sam is to finding him, (if the meter is high then you'll hear him respond when Max calls him) the other is how suspicious the alien is of Max. Actually playing with it, which is just stacking the fake food to make a plastic burger, will make it less suspicious while alerting Sam will raise its suspicion. Max can only alert when the alien looks away, it has the attention span of an iPad kid. Sam's meter will slowly drain when he's not being alerted.
Filling the suspicion meter is a game over, filling Sam's meter is a win and will have him bust through the door.
Then they beat the shit out of the alien kid together and kiss afterward. The end ✨️
I literally only decided to write this down because I thought it was funny so wee
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 months
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She Stays (Part 3)
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Summary: Could you please write one where student!reader appears in Supernatural universe taken from normal life and becomes an angel? Pairing Sam/reader?
Part 1 Part 2
Pairing: Sam x student!/angel!reader
Word Count: 1,800ish
Warnings: language, implied smut
A/N: Wow this is only how many years late? I know it’s been asked for many times for more of She Stays and here it is! Please enjoy this final part!
________
“Ow,” you heard Dean shout from the kitchen. When you came in he was sucking on his finger. “Cut it,” he mumbled, moving to the sink to run it under some water. He hissed as the cold hurt and you yanked his hand away.
“That needs stitches,” you said, Dean letting you twist his hand around. He smiled as he nodded approvingly.
“Yes it does,” he said, your hand reaching out and pulling a fresh towel to wrap it in. “You’re coming up to speed on the medical side of things,” he said. “Sammy’s been a good teacher.”
“I like when Sam teaches me,” you said, pulling him along to grab a first aid kit. “You on the other hand...”
“I’m an asshole who doesn’t give you an inch of slack, right?” asked Dean, putting on his mentor face. “Sam would go too easy on you in fights and target practice. You know it too.”
“I know, Dean,” you said, fiddling through the bag to find a needle and thread. “I don’t feel like I make any progress with you though. Sam tells me I’m doing a good job at least.”
“Kid,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist before you grabbed the supplies you needed. “You’ve come a long way in two months. I might even let you go on a salt and burn by yourself.”
“Really?” you said, eyes lighting up. 
“No, but only because Sam would kill me,” said Dean, chuckling as he moved your hand to the towel. “I know you can stitch and blood doesn’t bother you. Go ahead and try.”
“No, Dean,” you said, jerking your hand back. He frowned and feigned sorrow.
“Guess I’ll just bleed out since, Fledgy wouldn’t help me,” said Dean, holding up his finger.
“I need Cas,” you said, Dean scowling hard as he hoped onto the counter. The hunting stuff, that wasn’t so bad compared to knowing you had these abilities. You were still too scared to use them without Cas close by, afraid of hurting someone. 
“I trust you,” said Dean, holding out his hand. “I’m in worlds of pain here, Kid. Help a guy out.”
“Dean, I don’t want to,” you said, reaching for the medical bag again. “Angel stuff is not your area, remember, it’s Cas’.”
“I’m also bad cop,” said Dean. “Now try or I’ll work you so hard today so you’ll be too tired to go on your first date with Sammy.”
“Thank dad you’re not my soulmate,” you said, Dean chuckling as you grabbed his wrist. “Just don’t move or anything.” Dean stopped playing as he moved the towel back and you saw it still gushing blood. You thought of how big a cut it was, how it was deep and throbbing. You pictured it in your mind and then how it was supposed to be. 
Dean shut his eyes as you let warmth trickle from your fingers and told your grace to heal him. Dean jerked a little but when you pulled back he was good as new.
“I didn’t tell you about the bruise on my knee,” said Dean, shoving his pants up and seeing the black and blue mark missing.
“I wanted it to heal whatever was wrong with you,” you said a little timid. It felt intimate to heal someone, like you were touching their pain for the briefest of moments.
“I won’t tell Cas if you won’t,” said Dean, hopping off the counter. “Now it’s time for your surprise.”
“Please no more push ups today,” you said, Dean chuckling as he pushed on your shoulders.
“You’re going on your first date with your soulmate tonight, kid,” said Dean. “I’m taking you to the mall to go pick out whatever you want to wear. Then I’ll tell you a bunch of horribly embarrassing stuff about Sam you can bring up at dinner if you feel so inclined.”
“You’re such a good big brother,” you said, Dean already moving the two of you towards the garage.
Dean had surprisingly been a good shopping buddy. You picked out a few simple black dresses but Dean had found one with an open back that you fell in love with. You weren’t sure at first how it would look on you but once you were in a pair of heels even you couldn’t help but think you looked hot.
Leaving your room wearing it that night, knowing it was just you and Sam in the bunker, you felt a little silly. You weren’t going out or anything, it was dinner at home. But Sam had asked if you could wear a dress so your first date wasn’t in flannels and ripped jeans and you wouldn’t deny him that request.
“Hi, Y/N,” said Sam, working over the stove. “Could you grab...” he trailed off when he spun around and saw you. You could feel him light up as he lost the ability to speak.
“Plates?” you asked, Sam nodding, his eyes glued to every part of you. “Sam, I’m not that pretty.”
“You’re gorgeous,” said Sam, a little breathy. “You’re always beautiful but...I’ve never seen you dressed up before.”
“Slight improvement over you sweats and tee from that first day,” you said, stepping beside him to reach plates from the cupboard.
“You’re comparing apples and oranges babe,” said Sam, reaching up and grabbing the too high plates for you, an excuse to get you close dawning on you. “I love both those outfits. Anything really. I can almost see your wings in your back like that.”
“Sam,” you said, looking down shyly. “I don’t have my wings yet.”
“Yes you do,” he said, ignoring the cooking and running a hand up to the back of your neck. “They’re just very small right now,” said Sam, his hand moving lower and lower until his long fingers scrapped over the ridge of your shoulder blade.
You giggled as it tickled, the motion pulling something from you that you hadn’t quite felt before. 
“Beautiful snow white,” said Sam. “They’re right there, just under the skin. I can’t wait to see them when you’re full grown.”
“How do you know what they look like if you can’t see them?” you asked, resting your head on Sam’s shoulder. You would stay like this forever, him touching this vulnerable spot you didn’t know you had, making you tingle and smile all over.
“I just know,” said Sam, tilting your head back so he could cup your cheek. “I’m glad we took it slow. Got to be best friends first before trying this.”
“There’s no trying, this is...” you said, letting your angel side take over for a minute. “Cas told me something, about fledglings.”
“You’re very pure creatures,” said Sam. “It’s okay, Y/N. He told me too.”
“Then you know we can’t get frisky or anything like that at all,” you said, backing away from him, seeing the hurt on his face. “Where I came from, it didn’t matter but here...you’ll be stuck with me forever.”
“Spending forever with my soulmate? Yes that does sound awful,” said Sam, taking a step closer wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’m not scared, Fledgy. I will never pressure you one way or the other. It doesn’t mean I don’t have a preference for how things will turn out between us.”
“I’m not too young?” you asked, Sam unable to fight back a laugh.
“That’s...that’s what you’ve been worried about?” asked Sam with a smile. “I’m barely older. Fledgy, I love you. Nothing, absolutely nothing will ever stop that. Before you ask, I love you for you, not because of this soulmate thing. I’ve felt that perfect at home feeling with you every second I’m with you since the start, before we touched.”
“Can we eat dinner later?” you asked, the burnt smell of chicken filling your nose. “I’d like to do something with you first.”
“Make me yours, Y/N.”
Dean got home after midnight, only slightly buzzed as he found you and Sam eating pizza on the counter in pajamas.
“How’d the date go you two?” asked Dean, stealing a piece of your leftovers. “Going to be a second one?”
“Yup,” you said, Sam eyeing you up and down.
“Yup,” said Sam, a smirk on his face.
“Is this some couple thing or some angel thing?” asked Dean, watching the both of you. “Or did you two do it finally?”
“All of the above,” you said, Sam smacking your arm playfully. “Hey, someday I’m going to be stronger than you ya know.”
“That’ll be fun in bed,” said Sam, winking as Dean looked ready to gag. “Fledgy’s growing up,” said Sam, holding up a single perfect snow white feather. Just like he’d said it be.
“Angel’s getting her wings, huh? All you two had to do was go at it?” asked Dean, genuinely curious about the fledgling rules as they seemed to differ than a normal angel.
“Actually, it kind of...made me more human in certain areas,” you said, wondering if Dean would be angry. “Mating as a fledgling, with a human, it turns off that angel bit that let’s me...live forever. Normal life expectancy for me now.”
“Makes sense,” said Dean, both you and Sam raising an eyebrow. “Why would Chuck make soulmates that don’t get to be together when it’s all said and done? You two must really like each other to do that.”
“He’s okay,” you said, bumping into Sam’s ribs with a smile.
“It’s not so bad having an angel looking out for me,” said Sam, holding onto your feather like it was precious. 
“So you get anything else new while I was out beside some feathers?” Dean asked, silently reaching out to Sam asking to look at the one in his hand. Sam handed it over carefully as Dean inspected it. “Okay, I’ll admit that’s kind of cool.”
“Too bad you can’t see them like Sam,” you said, moving your left wing to tickle his arm, still so small it didn’t jut out past your back, Sam smirking and Dean looking on confused.
“Don’t stay up too late having angel sex, we’re going to work on werewolves tomorrow,” said Dean. “Night Sammy. Fledgy.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a full day a head of you,” said Sam. “Make sure to carve in some time for your boyfriend if you can.”
“I can always make time for him,” you said, brushing your wing up against his arm again, making Sam laugh. 
“Let’s go to bed,” said Sam, hopping off the counter and picking you up.
“I’m not tired though,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I said go to bed, not sleep, Fledgy,” said Sam with a wink. “I got too much energy I need to burn off before I even think about curling up with you all night long.”
__________
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echantedtoon · 1 month
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A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch7 Date Weekend: Sunday
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(Or alternative title- Obligatory anime shopping montage. Just an excuse for Y/n to get to know everyone before the real romance starts. I'm using the chart above as headcannons ages for Sanemi's sibs for a modern au for future reference. Short chapter. 
Warnings for some nudity mentioned but nothing NSFW.
Hearts conquered so far: Mitsuri and Gyomei and secretly Kanae.)
Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml @tengensangel
@miniverse-zen @mysteri0uz
Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know
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Bright sunlight shown down from the sky and illuminated the entire world in a nice warm glow. Soon fall would be hear turning the leaves shades of yellows, reds, oranges, and brown. Cold weather would soon follow after with the spookiest day of the year right around the year before eventually snow would fall and bring with it icy sidewalks and the likelihood of being pelted by snowballs. 
So it was a good idea to get out and enjoy the warm weather while you could.
"Dammit! Im fine!" Obanai scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes but didn't stop his girlfriend from pushing his bangs from his face to frown at him.
"But what if you get lost?"
"We're going on a hiking trip to see a waterfall and then we're going to the movies," he deadpanned, "It's not like we're going skydiving."
"I know but what if you run into a wolf? Or a wild bear?! "
His hands were held up bluntly. "We'll be fine. It's not the first time we've been in the woods. You go have fun at the mall."
She still frowned at him but didn't argue- Only reach over to give him a big kiss to his forehead leaving a red lipstick mark he'd wipe off later. Right now they were in front of the local park waiting for everyone else to arrive. Most of them were already there, minus Shinobu who needed to wrap up some last minute emails concerning her part time job at an office and Gyomei who was coming by bus after picking up his .. Girlfriend? Did she count as his girlfriend if they've only been on three dates? He guessed they were still just casually dating right now and testing the waters. Y/n seemed like a nice girl or 'unicorn' as Shinobu put it but he still wasn't too sure what to think..She seemed ok at least to him. Maybe that'll change later but who knows?
The sounds of the park around them continued through the air as kids ran around giggling and squealing their little heads off playing. Swings to be swung, slides to slide, and jungle gyms to climb. Lots of little smiles on little cute faces running around playing or toddling after parents walking around. Or in Sanemi's case allowing his little brothers and sisters to be climb all over him where he stood eating an energy bar in one hand while his other arm was slowly lifted up and down with two little boys and one little girl clinging to him. Three of his little siblings with a fourth standing just standing off to the side. The second oldest other than himself. No doubt babysitting a few of their little siblings today.
Kanae was letting one of their other little sisters mess with her hair and admire how pretty she was. She was rather pretty. However the sounds of a little PING sound took his attention off his friends and towards the pocket on Mitsuri's right side as her hand automatically dug out her phone and looked at the screen. 
"It's Shino! She says she's running late so she's just heading to the mall to meet us there."
"Oh. That's convenient." He didn't think they'd be able to leave on their hiking trip until Mrs. Shinazugawa came back to take over her youngest children. "Anything else from Mei?"
She shook and one of her braids smacked against his cheek. "Nope! But the bus should be here soon! Ooh! This is gonna be so much fun!"
Considering if they'll get here already. They were taking so long and it was already painful enough to have to fork over fifty bucks after loosing that stupid game Tengen decided to make them do. Sigh. Oh well still better than loosing a hundred dollars each. He didn't want to lose that too-
"THEY'RE HERE!"
Well it's about time!
The tall, unmistakable form of Gyomei walked down the road and started making his way towards them walking slower than normal because of the smaller woman walking next to him holding his arm. You smiled at them all and waved an arm at them all as you got close enough to be heard.
"It's about time you all showed up. I was starting to grow a beard from how long it took."
"My apologies." Gyomei smiled despite his apology. "But we're here now. Is everyone else here?"
"Except Shinobu. She's gonna meet the girls at the mall. We still gotta wait for Sanemi's mom to come back before we leave too-" he gestured behind him at the giggling little kids despite Gyomei obviously not being able to see them. "-but she should be back anytime now. The girls can go ahead and leave." 
"Are you sure?" Mitsuri gave him a puppy eyed look. 
"Yeah. We'll be fine. You girls go enjoy your frilly spa day. Well meet up with you after Sanemi drags us to the movies."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
It wasn't him her cupping his face and gifting him a giant smooth to the forehead before excitedly looping an arm around your arm and excitedly began to pull you towards the other girls. In fact you were barely able to shout a goodbye to Gyomei before the unusually strong woman literally dragged you off towards the other girls. They were all there except for Shinobu whom Mitsuri briefed you about meeting you all there, and Kanae who had to wrestle one of Sanemi's baby sisters off her before joining you all there. Mitsuri and Suma both super giddy with excitement.
"This is gonna be great! We're going shopping and then to Salan,Sauna, and Beyond!"
..You blinked. "What's Salon, Sauna, and Beyond?"
As if you had insulted her,her family, her friends, and cat- Suma gasped so loud you jumped as she clutched her turtleneck. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT SALON, SAUNA, AND BEYOND IS?!"
"Um. No? Should I?"
"YES!," She yelled at you waving her arms around, "It's like only the greatest place ever to get your nails done and get pedicures and it has like these REALLY good massages that help melt stress awa- HEY!!"
MAKIO shoved her head aside with a hand with a deadpanned look. "It's a salon and spa with an attaching sauna room and one. It's a pretty popular place to go unwind and relax."
"Oh. I've never been there before."
"YOU'VE NEVER BEEN THERE?!"
"YOU DON'T HAVE TO REPEAT IT, BLOCKHEAD!!"
"Kanae, tell her to stop being mean to me!"
"Ok. Let's calm down now. C'mon. We don't want to end up missing our bus."
Hinatsuru was lightly surprised you didn't run away or show annoyance at the fighting but remained smiling as Kanae hered the still arguing wives towards the bus station where you first arrived with Gyomei. It also turns out the boys were not going to be going with all of you like they did Friday night and all day Saturday when you weren't around. Instead they planned on having a few hours to just bond with the boys as the girls just bonded with each other which includes a nature hike, movie Sanemi insisted on dragging them too, and then they planned to go somewhere to eat before meeting back up with the girls near the end of the day at the sauna. Sounded like a plan. 
The ride to the mall was pretty generic. On the way there you sat by Mitsuri and talked with her about your pets. Her cats and bunnies and your goldfish you named Goldielocks.  It was a peaceful ride up to the ginormous building that was your city's local mall complete with a lot of stores inside. And conveniently waiting for you all in the parking lot was Shinobu, eating what looked like a granola bar while she was waiting for you all to show up by the entrance. It got a raised brow from Makio.
"Really?"
Shinobu shrugged again looking at you all. "You all were taking too long. I got hungry and ate something."
"Too long? It's eight in the morning still!"
"Let's not fight anyone! I wanna swing by CePora's! They have this new Summer's End eye shadow palette I've been wanting!" 
"I think the yellows and oranges would look good on Makio," you added trying to get the group moving, "Let's go in and see if it's still there!" Your arm gestured towards the large building.
Luckily that seemed to have worked and the group ended up being dragged by Mitsuri all the way to the escalator and up to the second floor where she then proceeded to not stop until she was dashing through the automatic front doors of the famous make up chain of stores. It was ok. You got a cute little compact mirror in the shape of a Tanuki so it all worked out before someone directed your group towards the check out and then a few different stores. This time a few clothes stores.
Honestly you were surprised one mall could have five different clothes stores and no one seemed to care. 
Your attention was mainly upon the plethora of outfits Suma and Mitsuri thrusted into your arms and insisted you try on because-
"You'd look even cuter next to Gyomei if you wore these!"
Nice to know that they cared about their friend at leas and you did end up liking a few of the outfits so that was a plus. Until Hinatsuru pointed out something with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 
"Hey. We've been going to all the places we like. It's not fair to Y/n to just drag her everywhere without stopping where she wants to go as our guest. Let's go where she wants." She smiled at you. "Pick wherever you want to go, Y/n."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! Where do you want to go?"
"Well, there's a bookstore here that has a new recipe book on deserts from Canada I'd really like to get."
"Consider it done!"
It was a nice trip to said bookstore where Mitsuri bought herself at least three romance novels and you think Shinobu got herself a book of space sciences. It was another small thrift store or two before it had occured to you all that it was noon already and you all were very hungry. Mitsuri's immediately reaction was to suggest going to the resident cat cafe, but knowing her appetite Shinobu suggested that you all go to the other mall restaurant that had an all you can eat buffet instead. Yeah. That was probably the better idea considering that Mitsuri had finished off her twelveth plate by 12:45 and about ready to go back for her thirteenth. You weren't even done with your own plate yet but giggled as she looked at you in question before you held up a napkin to her and smiled sweetly.
"Here. You have some gravy on your cheek from the mashed potatoes."
She blinked at the kind gesture but smiled widely. "Thanks!"
It was a mutual agreement that they approved of your gesture by the many smiles you've gotten from them. "So, Y/n. How's your day so far?"
You beamed brightly. "It's been wonderful! I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun!"
"Don't you go to the mall?"
You shook your head. "Only sometimes if I need to pick up something or if I'm shopping with my family. I don't really have a lot of friends who're free or like to go shopping with me."
"You don't have friends?"
"Well...Not a lot. My one friend is usually working and studying hard for his bachelor's and he's already busy enough with his boyfriend so we don't get to hang out as much as we used to."
"AW! That's so sad! It's ok!" You were suddenly grasped up into the arms of one pink haired girl who squeezed you tight enough to make you wheezed and pop a few of your bones as she hugged you to her. "We'll be your friends now! We can go on trips and I can do your nails and-"
"Mitsi! You're suffocating her there!"
Green eyes blinked before looking down at your pale face before she squealed out and pushed you away with a worried look. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! Oh my gosh! Are you ok?!"
You slowly gasped a lungful of air after getting squeezed like a lemon before nodding. "Y-Yeah. I'm ok." 
If you counted being squeezed like an orange ok. But you weren't going to fault her for it especially since she's been so nice to you so far. After a moment of you all just talking, mostly about what they were doing for classes starting Monday tomorrow or what they all did at the beach together yesterday when the waiter stopped by the large table to collect the dirty dishes ..and gave an annoyed dirty look at Mitsuri who was scarfing down the remainder of her thirteenth plate before adding it to the stack he had to take away eventually.
"Eh...Is there anything else I can get you ladies?," he asked despite still eyeing the stack of plates with narrowed eyes. His tone not hiding his annoyance either.
"Can I get some of the devil's food cake on the menu?" Mitsuri beamed up at him widely as his nose wrinkled up. 
"I'm sorry but we're OUT," he bluntly stated before reluctantly grabbing the tall stack of dishes and grunting annoyed. "Can I get anyone else anything?"
Mitsuri blinked giving a glance at the stack of dishes the waiter was forced to carry away before guiltily and ashamedly looking down at her own hands. It caused a chain reaction of glares and frowns from the other girls glaring at him annoyed back.
"No. Just bring us the check."
The waiter seemed annoyed still but relieved to start collecting everyone else's plates adding it to the big pile in his arms before pausing as you gently reached out to gently tug on his sleeve and smiled politely. "May I please have some of the devil's food cake on the menu? Just add it to my part of the check please."
Now this time every gave you wide eyed looks at the audacity of the situation especially when Mitsuri was literally right THERE next to you but the waiter was all too happy to smile at you. "But of course. Give me just a minute to get back to you."
"Thank you very much!"
There was just dumbfounded silence as he walked away after picking up Kanae's dishes and hauling them away from the stunned group as you all sat there stunned other than you who only smiled... Eventually Mitsuri broke the silence with a mumble. 
"I thought they were out."
"What the heck, Y/n?!," Makio demanded as you just smiled at her as she gestured to Mitsuri and you. "She's right there! Did you freaking forget or something?!"
"Oh no. I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Why you-"
"Makio, calm down. We can't stop her from buying her own dessert if she's paying for it herself." Despite Kanae's soft tone, her look was obviously disapproving. "It's not like we can demand someone that they can't eat something."
Makio didn't say anything but she shot you a glare as you still smiled at her and Mitsuri sunk down further into her seat as everyone awkwardly waited for the checks to be delivered along with your dessert. About five minutes later the same waiter returned looking a little less annoyed but still had that blunt tone to him as he placed down at least seven checks for you all and a second later a VERY big delicious smelling, mouth watering, chocolate upon chocolate cake slice in front of you. 
"Here you are, Ma'am."
"Oh thank you! If you wait just a second, I'll give you your tip!" You clasped your hands happily as he smiled at you... Before you bluntly reached over, grabbed the plate, picked it up, and just placed it back down in front of Mitsuri who blinked in surprise. "Look, Mitsuri! They had some after all and what luck we were able to get you the last piece!" Her eyes widened bigger at you. "Aren't you lucky?"
Everyone stared gobsmacked as you just hummed along going to dig around in your purse for a second to pull out a five dollar bill before holding it up to the waiter whom looked like he was slapped across the face. The moment you waved the bill in his face, he glared at you before snatching it from your hand and stomping away from you table. There was another awkward moment as you left the thirty dollars for your part of the meal on the table before you blinked at the wide eyed stares given to you.
"What? Did I get her the wrong cake?"
Instead of an answer you were given a squeal from Mitsuri and then after another bone crushing hug as she hugged you with a large smile. "THANK YOU SO MUCH!  THIS IS LIKE THE NICEST THING A NEW PERSON HAS EVER DONE FOR ME!!"
You smiled wider looking at her. "No need to thank me. You shouldn't be treated badly just because of your appetite." She blinked as you patted her arms. "That guy's a jerk. Forget about him and just enjoy your cake. My treat."
She continued to stare at you before her face turned to a bright red and her hands let go of you to clasp her cheeks. "I-I don't know what to say. Oh my- Such a gesture!"
"You don't have to say anything. Just enjoy yourself. Sorry if I didn't explain it earlier."
"Oh. So that's why you ordered it." 
Makio slowly relaxed as you nodded.... Oblivious to the lovestruck, blushing face Mitsuri was giving you before you slowly got up to excuse yourself to the bathroom and asked them to watch your shopping bags in the meantime. The SECOND you disappeared from sight, Mitsuri slammed a determined palm down on the table and clenched a fist.
"Ok! It's official! Let's do all we can to get her together with Gyomei! She's absolutely perfect!"
"Huh? Where did this come from?"
"Oh..N-No where but we owe it to Mei to try and get him a great girlfriend like he deserves! So let's make her feel welcome! I mean like c'mon! She's literally perfect! She even tipped the waiter so we didn't have to!"
"Are you..blushing?"
"N-NO! I'm just very flattered at the gesture!"
By the time you got back, Mitsuri was already done eating and giddy again especially when you came back. The group gathered up the bags and decided to stop by two more small shops to pick up some pre-ordered stuff Tengen already paid for (a canvas and a box of hard to get paints) before they ushered you back out of the mall and on the street. At least four shopping bags hung from your own arms as Mitsuri held your hand and pulled you along behind her continuing to babble on about...Well you lost track after the part where she told you about how she got into ballet but you politely listened since she seemed so happy now dragging you down the road as cars drove by and people passed by on the sidewalk.
The building they stopped in front of was a smaller building than the mall but still bigger than your house. The sign on the front saying Salon, Sauna, and Beyond. Ah! So this must be the place that they were so excited to go. You allowed Mitsuri to excitedly drag you in after the others and the nice smells of rose air freshener hit your nose along with the cool air from the ac. The inside of the building was mostly white with a few paintings on the wall, some soft looking chairs, and a reception desk where a middle aged woman smiled at you all. Ah. This must've been the waiting area. 
The woman smiled at the group and waved a hand. "Good afternoon. Are you here to book an appointment?"
"I have a reservation for a group under Kocho actually!"
The lady took a moment to rummage around on her desk and look for something.. before nodded and happily looked at Shinobu. "Of course! We have your party booked for our three o clock reservation. If you'll follow me, you can get a locker for your belongings before proceeding to the salon floor."
In an instant Mitsuri looked excitedly at you. "Have you ever been to an onsen before, Y/n?"
You nodded. "My cousin had everyone go to one for her bachelorette party, so I've been to one once."
"Oh you'll love it then! The water is from natural hot springs so it's got minerals that's really good for your skin! But first we're getting our nails done and-"
And off she went again. 
It was ok still. You still were going to have a good time. It was just a small matter of getting a small safe place to put your shoes and bags before following the others to the other section of the salon separate from the onsen addition. Other an an older woman getting highlights in her hair, your group had the entire place to yourselves. 
It was a strange and new but not unpleasant experience there. After all you've never had your nails done let alone had anyone else take a nail file to your nails or had your feet soaked before getting a pedicure for the first time. As said it wasn't a bad experience just new. However you declined the massage offered to you. By the time three hours had passed and everyone had a turn to everything that was offered to them(none of you noticing the second group being escorted towards the onsen), it was time for the onsen according to Suma. There was only one problem however-
"Hey. Um..I don't know how any other way to say this,  but I don't feel comfortable washing with you all before we go to the onsen."
You weren't actually planning on getting into any onsens either and was just going to sit on the edge as they soaked, but you had to bath before going into the onsen and you didn't feel comfortable doing that as a group. Luckily Shinobu seemed very understanding and smiled at you. 
"That's fine. We're not going to make you do something you're not comfortable with so why don't you want outside for about fifteen minutes? We'll all be done by then and you can join us when you're done."
You sighed relieved. "That's great!"
"Good. When you're done just go through the doorway and down the hall. We'll be through the green door."
"Ok! I'll remember that!"
Guess who decided to show up in your life again? Yep that's right. Bad luck.
You had waited outside of the bathing area with the long fluffy white robe and the soap the spa ladies had given you to use and waited about twenty minutes for them all to get done (an extra five minutes just to be sure) before deciding to see if everyone was clear. A quick shout didn't get any response and a careful peek inside revealed that indeed no one else was in the room. Perfect! You were able to scrub down really quick and change into the robe you were given before wrapping a towel around your hair. Now let's see. Shinobu said they'd be in the room down the hall from here through the green door. Perfect! Easiest directions ever!
...or it would've been if you weren't staring at two exactly identical green doors at the end of the hall. 
You stood there dumbfounded staring between the doors again. There was a sign saying which one was the men's section.. unfortunately it had fallen off the wall where it was hung up and for some reason had been kicked to the middle of the hall so you had no idea which door it had been hanging above. Was someone trying to play a joke?! Or did no one notice the sign on the floor?! Or did they just not care and just kick it out of the way?! Either way you were screwed in this situation. Great.
Ultimately you decided to go through the right door. There was no one else in the spa besides yourself, your group, and the employees. The worst you'd do is enter an empty room or run into an employee who you'd just explain that you were were lost, and you might just run into the group. So you didn't think when you pushed open the door. When you stepped inside. When you smiled at first hearing the sloshing sounds of water. When you called out happily.
"Hey! I'm sorry I took so long! I got lost so-"
You froze as at least six heads turned to look at you in the doorway. 
It felt like an eternity to process what you were seeing as your mind just blue screened, but at the same time it felt like someone dropped a boulder into your stomach and jabbed ice into your veins with a syringe. There was definitely a group occupying the onsen in here alright...however it was uh...
They were definitely not girls. 
Six pairs of eyes stared at you. Some frozen in shock, some confusion, and at least in Sanemi's case it was a big 'wtf' look. Speaking of which-
IT WAS THE WRONG DAM ROOM!!
The boys all stared at you from somewhere in the room. Rengoku, Tengen, and Sanemi from in the water. Obanai sitting on the ledge looking wide eyed frozen at you with a towel around his middle and his mask still on his face. And Gyomei and Giyuu standing off to the side looking like they had been having a conversation but stopped when you walked in. However-
HOW WERE THEY ALL SO RIPPED-
"*ahem*" Eventually it was Gyomei who broke the extremely awkward silence by clearing his throat making you jump and calmly gesturing a hand back to the door. "Y/n, I believe you meant to enter through the o-other door."
"IMSOSORRY!!OHMYGOD-"
The door all but slammed behind your quickly disappearing form and the sound of your quickly retreating footsteps left everyone else staring there stunned in the aftermath.. before Tengen snickered body shaking lightly before his entire head was thrown back with his loud booming laughter echoed off the tiled walls.
"HAHAHAHAHA!! Well if she didn't think you were good looking before she does now!," he loudly announced with more laughter that turned into sputters and coughs once Sanemi splashed water into his face.
You didn't mention anything about this to the others. Didn't even answer them when they asked what took you you so long and why your face was burnt red. You only squealed out that you got lost but didn't answer anything else. Thankfully they didn't push it and you were able to try to forget about it..but failed. You were horrified by the time you all left and the guys were literally RIGHT THERE  in the lobby and...
Absolutely chill?
They didn't look the least bit out of the ordinary and just greeted their girlfriends like it was any other day except for Tengen who gave you a deeply amused smile but before he could say anything Obanai kicked his leg hard enough to make him wince. So hopefully he wouldn't be telling anyone else about this- A gentle large hand placed on your shoulder causes you to jump out of your stupor and snap up to a concerned looking Gyomei. 
"Are you alright?," his tone was gentle and concerned. "If you're uncomfortable being around after..*ahem*" His own face dawned a light pink. "I-I can pay for a taxi to take you home."
"N-No! I-It's ok! That was m-m-my fault! Um...How was your hike?" You quickly changed the subject.
Taking the hint he nodded clearing his throat. "I-It was wonderful. The forest was very vibrant with life and the waterfall was especially alive. There's not really anything that sounds quite as powerful as the Earth's own power."
"It sounds beautiful."
"It was."
*Until Sanemi dragged us to that ghost story knock off."
"HEY!!" You turned to catch Sanemi pointed and angry hand to Obanai. "SUPERNATURAL ACTIVITY TWO IS A FANTASTIC HORROR MOVIE! WAY BETTER THAN THAT SNAKE CRAP SHOW YOU BROUGHT!!"
"YOU DON'T KNOW GOOD STORYLINES WHEN YOU SEE THEM!!"
"That is enough!" The sudden shout from the otherwise soft spoken Gyomei was so out of the ordinary that it made everyone turn on the spot in shock and surprise. His face turned down on a frown towards the both of them. "This entire day was supposed to be about spending time with one another not argue over who has better taste in films. Further more you both are being very inconsiderate to make such fools of yourself in front of our guest for this trip. Now will you both please kindly stop going at each other's throats?"
There was a stunned small moment of silence as the both of them slowly relaxed back looking suddenly guilty. After another few seconds Gyomei nodded before looking back to you apologetically. 
"I'm very sorry."
"It's ok. I really don't mind anyways." 
"No. It's not ok. We were supposed to relax today without any fighting. They promised and now-.." He just sighed. "It's getting late and we all have classes and work tomorrow. We should all return home and get a good night's sleep. Do you need me to drop you off?"
You shook your head at him. "No it's ok. I can walk home after I take the bus back." 
"Then allow me to walk you home. It's the least I can do."
After such a kind gesture,how could you say no? That's what lead to you both walking down the street with your arms linked and the sun barely in the sky, and him carrying your bags in his other hand even though you told him he didn't have to but he insisted. It made a warm fluttery feeling go off in your chest that barely let you register saying goodbye to everyone else. And you definitely didn't see the way Mitsuri was giving you the 'first crush' eyes or the very approving look Kanae gave you. Only focusing on the fact that you were home now and the good feelings in your chest didn't go away even when he handed over your bags. 
"Thank you for walking me home."
He smiled. "As I said before it's the least I could do. I'm just happy you had fun with the girls today. I hope Mitsuri and Suma weren't too overwhelming. I know they can be a lot." 
"No they're great! I had so much fun. It's the best time I had for a long time to be honest." 
He chuckled too and looked like he was going to say something but at the same moment and elderly couple smiled at you while walking into the building next to your home. "Oh look, Dear. A young man walking his lady home. How charming. I remember when you used to walk me everywhere-"
"Oh no. He's not my boyfri-..He is?"
The look of surprise on his face as his head turned to you wide eyed. "I am?"
There was a silence other than the chatting older couple just entering into the building and leaving you both alone staring at each other for a long moment. Eventually you looked down at your feet and rubbed your arm.
"I-I mean.. Would you like to be?"
His white eyes widened to the size of plates as he was taken aback before the brightest shade of red came over him as he just.. couldn't believe it. Before a big smile replaced the shock and he nodded. "Y-YES! I mean- *ahem* I would like that very much. However are you sure you'd like to have me for a boyfriend. I will not sugarcoat the obvious." A hand gestured to his face. "I am blind and scarred."
"If I was really shallow to not date because of looks, then I wouldn't have agreed to that first date with you."
"I am seeing other people whom I love and care about very much. .. I'm not going to break up with them or any other outrageous demands."
"I wouldn't even dream of asking you to break up with them! I think they're wonderful people so I couldn't ask you that. And it's not going to be me dating them. I'm going to be dating you and I'm ok with that." You smiled. "You're the first guy I dated that's been completely honest with me and so kind. It makes me feel like I'm the luckiest person in the world."
"I-... Don't speak like that please."
You blinked. "Huh. Why?"
"Be-Because the beauteous genuity of your words only make you sound more beautiful to my mind."
Huh. You were both closer than he remembered. Just a few inches from one another twinkling under the lights. And you blinked at the sudden closeness too. Face going a dim pink and a few chuckles from the moment escaping you. Barely anyone was outside now, too busy inside mingling, eating the food, and enjoying the evening. So it was just you two. Alone out here with nothing but each other for company. His mind felt completely blank and numb but in a good way, compelling him to reach his hands up and cup a cheek of yours something his rational brain wouldn't allow himself to do. Inches away now. You didn't move away.
He stared at the woman in front of him, this silly silly woman with the beautiful voice. If he was watching this as an outsider, he would've laughed at how they were literally just strangers less than a while ago, but right now it didn't seem any of that or anything else mattered. Not even the topic they had been discussing just a few seconds ago. Or removing the hand that now cupped her cheek. Maybe it really was a mutual madness they both shared or some form of chaos in their lives, but right now....With them being so close...And so vulnerable. It was only natural of course-.. It's what soulmates do-.. Of course they would since-...
They kissed.
"Hey. Do you think Gyomei is going to be angry at us still?" Sanemi gave his girlfriend a glum look as she patted his back. 
"Of course not. He's just stressed trying to make a good impression is all. I'm sure he'll be just fine." Her boyfriend didn't look convinced as he gave her a pout. Oh well. She was distracted anyways by the ringing of her phone in her pocket to which she promptly pulled out and automatically held up to her ear. "Hello?"
"Kanae! Quickly I need help!"
She blinked as Gyomei's voice cut through the phone. "Mei? Are you ok? What happened?"
"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BOYFRIEND!!"
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give it up for @stevieweek day 3- girls' night! using the sports prompt to spread my sporty stevie agenda like let that woman put her ponytail through her baseball cap!!!!!
wc: 812 | rating: G
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Today, Stevie Harrington is a woman on a mission. She’s gonna revolutionise girls’ night.
Before her transition, she spent most of her time with the boys of the party (and also Robin), and while she’s still pretty close with them and has maintained her hybrid sibling-chauffeur relationship, the girls have started muscling in on her time a lot more under the pretense of ‘showing her the ropes’ of femininity. Which mainly seems to entail Erica dragging her through stores in the mall a few towns over and El practising her new nail painting skills on Stevie’s hands.
And don’t get her wrong, Stevie loves it. There’s a certain sense of joy that warms her heart every time the girls make a point to involve her in anything, especially something overtly feminine. Her hair, skin, and nails have literally never looked better thanks to their new weekly girls nights.
But recently, Stevie’s had something of a revelation. She’s always been a sporty gal, but with the exception of Lucas, none of the boys have shown any interest in joining her in her hobbies. In fact, they’ve repeatedly shown an interest in doing anything but her hobbies. She’d pretty much given up on getting to play any kind of sports with the kids a long time ago, beyond the occasional one-on-one with Lucas.
At least, until she realised that while the boys had banned all mention of sports, she’d received no such ultimatum from the girls.
The more she thinks about it, the more perfect her plan seems. Max is already kind of sporty- she’d taken Stevie out skateboarding once and that shit was hard, involving a lot of muscles and balance skills that Stevie wasn’t really used to. Erica and Nancy aren't specifically big sports fans, but they have a lot of rage within them that Steph thinks could really be put to use in, say, swinging a bat around or throwing a ball real hard. If anything the only real concern Stevie has there is that they might become too powerful. El tends to just be happy being part of a group, and Robin is dedicated in her role of Stevie’s Best Friend Slash Twin Sister, so while she’ll probably complain the entire time about how she’s too uncoordinated for sports, she’ll still do it as if not doing it wasn’t even an option.
So now she’s sitting in her living room, the designated venue for girls’ night, surrounded by various sports equipment while the other girls stare at her.
“It could be fun! Like a bonding thing!” she says, eyes big and pleading.
Erica squints at her. “You look like a dog begging for food right now.”
Before Stevie can even begin to get offended by that, El pipes up from where she’s inspecting a tennis racket. “I saw a pretty dog the other day that was playing with some children. I think you would be that kind of dog.”
Max nods sagely. “Golden retriever. You have golden retriever energy.” She picks up a baseball. “Explains why you want to play ball so much.”
The one-two punch of almost compliment and harsh critique is frankly kind of devastating. Luckily Robin seems to sense Stevie’s distress. “I think it’ll be fun! And, like, this could be a girl power thing, right? Like, look at us go- bam, baseball bat.”
“Bam, baseball bat?” Nancy says, failing to hide a smile behind her hands.
Erica picks up a baseball bat, swinging it a little too vigorously a little too close to one of Stevie’s lamps, but she guesses she had to have seen that coming when possibly handing something that could do damage to Erica Sinclair. “I guess I could see the value of bam, baseball bat.”
“I have never played a sport before. I would like to learn,” El states in her matter-of-fact way. Max visibly softens at that, so Stevie knows she’s got both of them on board.
“That’s great!” Stevie pops out of her seat, excitedly walking over to her supplies. “What do you think you’d like to play? I have a couple different things-”
“We better be playing something competitive, you people need some humbling,” Erica mutters, but the small smile on her face shows she’s in.
Nancy smiles at Erica, one of those sharp smiles that reminds Stevie how much the two girls have in common. “Anything’s competitive if you try hard enough.”
Five for five. A grin overtakes Stevie’s face, and she quickly gathers up a basically random selection of balls and bats and rackets, excitedly running into the yard. “This is gonna be great! Best girls’ night ever!”
She’s so thrilled with a plan well executed that she even graciously decides to ignore the whispered remarks of “yeah, definitely a golden retriever,” coming from behind her.
Retribution will just have to come in the form of sports.
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scary-grace · 5 months
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Enough to Go By (Chapter 6) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Chapter 6
You find out what Tenko’s up to from the news – or from Kazuo, who texts you to tell you that “your friend” is making headlines again. It’s an uncharacteristic move for Tenko, who you know has been trying to keep to the shadows while he gathers allies, and it gets weirder when you find out that he showed up in a shopping center to have a conversation with one of the students from the class he attacked. You weren’t really watching the Sports Festival, but this kid made headlines for repeatedly breaking his fingers while trying to use his quirk. Every so often, quirked people make you really grateful that you don’t have one yourself.
Tenko didn’t get caught. He was long gone before the heroes and law enforcement showed up. But the incident leaves a weird taste in your mouth. He wandered into a mall to chat with a high school student. Why didn’t he talk to you? You’re supposed to be his best friend, his sidekick. He called the two of you hanging out together a date. What could he tell a high school student that he didn’t feel safe telling you?
The question consumes you more than you want it to, so you fall back on your now time-honored tradition of drowning yourself in tasks to avoid thoughts you don’t like. Work, and sitting with Yoshimi through her treatments, and ducking phone calls from your parents, who are moving the whole family – again – and want you to come home and help. Your mom threatens to throw away all your old stuff if you don’t, and even though you took everything you cared about with you when you moved away, the thought of your things being thrown out with the trash bothers you. It bothers you enough that you use your one day off in two weeks to go back to your parents’ house and clean out what’s left of your room.
When you get there, you find half the house out on the lawn, and your mother arguing with the oldest of your younger siblings. “Don’t take that tone with me, Haru,” she’s snapping. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not as important as helping out your family. We need you here to –”
It’s like something snaps in your head, and you’re swamped in the memories of a hundred times where you were told the same thing. You thought that with you gone, your parents would have pulled themselves together, but it looks like not. It looks like they just dragged your brother into replace you. You step forward without thinking, right into the middle of it. “Hey, Haru. Hey, Mom. Sorry I’m late.”
Both of them stare at you. There’s something accusing in Haru’s stare, not that you blame him for that. Your mom looks more relieved than anything else, and with her temporarily neutralized, you turn to your brother. “Go do what you need to do, Haru. I’ll fill in until you get back.”
Haru doesn’t need to be told twice, and he doesn’t wait around for your mom to protest. He books it, and you turn to face your mom again, the feeling of accomplishment at defusing a conflict drowned almost immediately by your frustration with yourself. Two seconds. You’ve been here two seconds, and you’ve stepped back into the part you used to play like you never left.
Your mom hugs you. “Haru’s been just terrible these last few years,” she complains. “Any time we ask him to help, he throws the biggest fit. I can’t count the number of times I’ve told him to act more like you –”
“He’s nineteen, Mom. He’s got his own life,” you remind here, like it’ll help at all. You step back out of her embrace. “I came to sort through my stuff. Where is it?”
She gestures vaguely at one corner of the front yard, and you make your way over, at which point you discover that what your mom described as your stuff is actually only half yours. The other half seems to be every picture and keepsake your parents have of you. You knew your relationship with your parents wasn’t ideal, that they stopped being interested in you the second you stopped being useful to them, but seeing this gives you pause. “Mom –”
“We’re downsizing,” your mother explains. “Take what you want. We’ll throw the rest out.”
Fine. If that’s how they want it, that’s fine with you. The first things you dump in the throwaway pile are every photo that consists of just you and one or both of your parents. There goes the whole first year of your life, like it never happened at all. After that, it gets a little more difficult, because your siblings are in the pictures and it’s not their fault they were born. You find a partially filled photo album, start stripping the pictures you want to keep from their frames, and fit them into the remaining spaces. You don’t have a lot of space for picture frames. And this way you don’t have to look at them unless you want to.
Most of your toys and books went to your siblings as hand-me-downs, usually before you were actually done with them, so most of the things that are yours are things you had to fight to save. Your favorite books, which you rescued by carrying them around in your backpack twenty-four seven. A journal with a lock on it and no key, but you know how to pick locks now, so it doesn’t matter as much as it did before. Then there’s a box that’s been taped, glued, and stapled shut, with DO NOT TOUCH written all over it. You remember mummifying this box when you were ten or so. You just don’t remember why you did it.
You can open it once you’re home. You stack the photo album on top of it and keep hunting through all the pieces of your life that your parents are planning to throw away.
In the end, you can’t take much stuff. You don’t have very much room, and while Kazuo would probably agree to let you store things in his house, you don’t want to have to ask him to do that. There’s not really that much important stuff here, anyway. The books and games from when you were really little? You outgrew them a long time ago, so what would you even be keeping them for? It’s not like you’re going to have kids.
That thought came out of nowhere. You sit back on your heels, frowning at the change of tune. In spite of the shitshow of your childhood and the fact that you’d most likely pass on your quirklessness and put the next generation in the same second-class position as you are, you’ve always seen yourself having children. Not very many children. Two, most likely, and a decent difference in their ages – enough that you could let them have their own time instead of treating them like twins, not so much that you’d run the risk of parentifying the older one even slightly. You think you’d be a good parent, maybe. At the very least you know what not to do.
You’ve been sure of that since you were old enough to figure out where babies come from. This is the first time you’ve had the other thought, and it feels like a certainty. When did it change?
The answer is lurking somewhere in the back of your mind, and you decide you’re not interested in answering it right now. With your stuff sorted, you dump the things you’re not taking into the garbage pile, making sure your mom sees which photos you’re getting rid of. You really should leave after that, but then the rest of your siblings come barreling out of the house, and you don’t think you should leave without saying goodbye.
Isuzu, the oldest of your younger sisters, is in her last year of high school. Music is her thing, and she’s applying to every conservatory in the country – keeping her options open, she says, but you know she means getting away from home. The twins, Shigure and Shinji, are both at Ketsubutsu Academy, training to be heroes. They’ve enhanced their control over their quirks to the point where they can induce specific parts of the vomiting process at will, and they demonstrate it on you, making your throat burn and your mouth flood with bitter-tasting saliva before your mom catches them at it and makes them stop. The triplets, a full ten years younger than you, aren’t even out of primary school yet. They want to be heroes, too.
Your dad arrives, with Haru in tow, as you’re making your second attempt to escape. He hugs you, too, and asks why you don’t come home more – right before he asks you to get the triplets washed up for dinner and check that they’ve done their homework. You almost tell him to go fuck himself, but ultimately you don’t want the fight. You herd the triplets back inside and start with the homework.
Isuzu follows you, not speaking up until after you’ve confirmed that the homework is completed and shooed the triplets off to the bathroom. “How did you do that so fast? It takes me and Haru forever to get them moving.”
“Practice,” you say. “More than I should have gotten. More than you’ll get if you get out of here.”
“I’m working on it,” Isuzu says. She looks uncomfortable, and like she wants to say more. You wait. “I’m sorry I told on you back then. If I hadn’t, maybe –”
You shake your head. “I had to go.” You cover your upper arm, the same motion Tenko made, and a chill runs down your spine. “I didn’t leave because you told them about this. I left because I got into my apprenticeship, and they told me I couldn’t do it.”
“What?” Isuzu looks shocked. “Why?”
“They needed me at home.” You shrug, your nonchalance masking the memory of the bolt of rage that shot through you when you realized what they were trying to do. “The only way to stop it was to make sure I wasn’t home anymore. I wish it hadn’t landed on you and Haru.”
“Haru’s madder about it than me,” Isuzu says. She leans against you, her head on your shoulder. “I remember stuff he doesn’t. Like that friend you had across the street. I don’t remember his name –”
“Tenko,” you say. Your heart lurches into an unsteady rhythm. “You remember him?”
“Not really. I remember you talking about him, though. You always had so many stories to tell.” Isuzu sighs. “Did they ever find out what really happened to him?”
“No,” you say. You did, though. You might be the only one who knows what became of Shimura Tenko, and even you don’t know the details. “I’m surprised you remember. Mom and Dad didn’t like me talking about him.”
“They didn’t like you being sad,” Isuzu corrects. “They don’t like me being sad, either. I’d be sad if it was my best friend who vanished. You said you were gonna marry him.”
“I – what?” Before you can follow up on the absolutely batshit thing your sister just said, one of the triplets comes back into the living room with obviously unwashed hands. “Arisa, I know you didn’t wash those. Go back in.”
Arisa sticks her tongue out at you. “You can’t tell me what to do. You don’t even live here. And you don’t have a quirk.”
“Right,” you say, a moment before Arisa activates her quirk and wallops you with every ounce of the contempt she feels for you. It takes all your self-control to avoid bursting into tears. “I can leave, though. Mom can’t get me in trouble any more, because I’m grown up. But she can definitely get you in trouble. Risk it if you want.”
Arisa glares at you for a moment longer, then heads back to the bathroom. You clear your throat and blink hard, digging your nails into your palm to give yourself something else to focus on. “Even I felt that one,” Isuzu remarks, wincing. “How do you take this stuff?”
You clear your throat again. “Practice.”
You make it through dinner, then book it, telling Isuzu and Haru to look you up the next time they’re in Yokohama and hitting the road before the twins or the triplets can use their quirks on you again. You cry a little bit on the train home, just enough to let off steam, and text your friends, who know what your family’s like and all advised you not to go. When they ask how it went, you send back a sad face.
Mitsuko: fuck them, then. they don’t deserve you
Hirono: come over and get trashed if you want. always makes me feel better
Sho: ooh, party at Hiro’s
Sho: count me in
Yoshimi: I can’t but 💛💛💛
Mitsuru: can I bring Izumi
Mitsuru gets a resounding thumbs-down from everybody for that one. Ryuhei chimes in, saying he’s down for a party, and Kazuo moves the venue to his house from Hirono’s shitty apartment in Kamino Ward. When you get off the train in Yokohama, you head over to Kazuo’s without stopping at home first.
Your friends have varying ideas on how to make you feel better. Mitsuko and Hirono think you should get drunk, so you drink a little, and Sho thinks you should bitch as much as you want about your family, so you do. Mitsuru’s got lots of siblings, so you complain about siblings together, and Ryuhei, not to be outdone, offers to beat up the triplets for you. “My quirk is perfect for it,” he says. “They’ll never know what hit them.”
They wouldn’t – Ryuhei’s quirk is called Reflection, and it bounces any quirk-based attack right back in the face of whoever sent it. “They’re ten,” you say.
“So?”
“Wait until they’re adults and it’ll be legal,” Kazuo says blandly. “What’s in the box?”
“Oh,” you say. You haven’t let go of it, although you relinquished the photo album to Mitsuko and Hirono after extracting promises that they wouldn’t take the photos out. “I’m not sure. I guess I thought it was pretty important.”
Kazuo touches his temple, then lowers his hand. “You don’t know, so I don’t know, either.”
“Let’s open it,” Hirono suggests. Mitsuko is still flipping through the photo album. “What kind of dirty secrets have you got in there?”
“I was ten. Not a lot of dirty secrets at that age.” You hold the box out to her. “Mind doing the honors on the tape?”
Hirono’s quirk is called Slice. It lets her cut narrow lines in any substance she draws her finger over, and you know she’s used it for good and evil at various points in her life. She cuts through the tape, you pry out the staples, and you and your friends from high school look down at the things you thought were worth hiding when you were ten years old.
There’s another journal, which means the one you grabbed was probably a decoy. You don’t remember being this sneaky, but you’re guessing you had a reason, and as you look through the other things in the box, you realize what it was. “I hid this before my memory got wiped,” you say. “It’s all things about my friend.”
“I thought they were just wiping your memories of the murder scene,” Mitsuru says, frowning.
“That’s what they got, sort of.” Memories are coming back to you as you peer into the box, memories of collecting these things, squirreling them away, panic beating at the base of your throat the entire time. “They were going for all of it.”
There’s a plush toy – a corgi, the same kind as Tenko’s dog, because you’d always wanted a dog and your parents always said no. Tenko got it for you for your birthday, the same year you had to go home early from his party. There are a bunch of photos, too, stolen out of a photo album – possibly the same partially-empty album you found when you were sorting. Some are from school. Some are from parties – yours, Tenko’s, Hana’s. Some were pretty clearly taken by Tenko’s mom. Seeing them makes you want to cry.
In the pictures, Tenko’s house is still standing. Tenko’s family is still alive. There’s Tenko like he used to be, dark-haired and grey-eyed and quirkless and happy. The two of you were always happy together, even if you weren’t happy at home. “These are cute,” Sho remarks. “Lots of puppy love going on here, and I’m not talking about the dog.”
You remember that you apparently told Isuzu you were going to marry Tenko and cringe from the thought. “Don’t be weird.”
“If it helps, it doesn’t look all that unrequited,” Mitsuko says, peering over your shoulder. “Check that one out.”
The photo she’s pointing at is from your class’s Valentine’s Day party. You and Tenko are trying to trade valentines, except you’re too embarrassed to look at him while you hand yours over. He’s not embarrassed to look at you. He’s grinning, that same smile that some of the other girls called creepy, the one you still like seeing because you know that it’s real, and he’s holding out a valentine of his own for you.
The valentine Tenko gave you is in the box, although his handwriting is impossible to read when you’ve had as many drinks as you’ve had tonight. In the corner of the box is another, tinier box. It looks like a jewelry box, and when you pry it open, a memory floods over you. There’s a locket inside. You put a picture in it the day before you got your memory wiped, and when you pick it up, you find the picture staring up at you. Tenko. Even five years after he vanished, you couldn’t let him go.
You shouldn’t have had so much to drink. If you were sober, you absolutely wouldn’t be bursting into tears.
Your friends aren’t exactly clear on why you’re crying, but they comfort you anyway, Mitsuko and Hirono and Sho hugging you while Ryuhei and Mitsuru hang awkwardly back, patting your shoulders. The only person who doesn’t get in on it is Kazuo, but Kazuo was never the touchiest, even before his mind snapped. And something’s up with Kazuo tonight. Even through your own mess of emotion, you can tell.
You wait until everyone else is drifting off before you try to get it out of him. “What’s wrong?”
“The HPSC is reactivating me.”
“They – what?” The alcohol’s made you just a little slow – the anger hits before the understanding’s truly formed in your head. “No, they can’t. They can’t, Kazuo! After what they did to you –”
“My provisional license is still active. That means they can.” Kazuo extracts a letter from his pocket and holds it out for you to peruse. You can barely read it. Your vision is swimming with rage. “When All Might crippled the black market, he took down every possible informant with it. Someone is backing the League of Villains. They need to find out who. My quirk is the fastest way.”
“They can’t do this. Not with what happened last time.” Your heart is hammering. Kazuo’s work-study was in Yokohama. When he collapsed, they brought him to your clinic, and you saw firsthand what overuse of his quirk did to him. “It could kill you.”
“There are safeguards, theoretically.” Kazuo’s voice is flat, emotionless. Like it’s been for two years and counting. “If you read further in the letter, you’ll see the protocol they outlined.”
You don’t need to read it. “You’ve got a medical condition. Using your quirk will exacerbate it. They can’t just conscript you like this!”
“It’s done,” Kazuo says. You look at him, speechless with fury, still too close to tears. “I didn’t tell you so you could get angry over something you can’t solve. I told you because I’ve predicted the types of questions they’ll instruct me to ask. I can ask them in a way that will preclude you in the answers.”
You hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “But in order for me to do that,” Kazuo continues, “you must keep yourself out of their search parameters. As long as you don’t directly aid your friend in the committing of a crime, you’ll fall outside their net.”
“Directly aid,” you repeat. “What does that mean?”
Kazuo gives you a look. “Failing to stop something is not the same thing as assisting in it.”
Now you get it. Kazuo’s telling you that simply knowing what Tenko’s up to isn’t enough to get you in trouble. In order for you to come under suspicion through Kazuo’s quirk, you’d have to actually do something – not just to help Tenko, but to help Tenko commit a crime. “I understand.”
You do. But that fury is still bubbling up within you, pointless as it is, at the thought that catching some vague scraps of information about the League of Villains is worth Kazuo’s sanity, Kazuo’s life. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let them keep using you.”
Kazuo’s eyes are blank. They’ve been blank for years. But every so often you’ve seen a flash of something within them – some feeling, something familiar, something of the boy you knew. “You can’t save both of us,” he says, and his right hand falls from his temple to rest in his lap.
He was using his quirk just then. What was he asking? What did he see? You want to ask him, but he’s just picked up a half-empty bottle of vodka and drained it, and now it’s all hands on deck to hustle him to the bathroom in time for him to throw it back up.
The thought crosses your mind, as you’re rubbing his shoulders and offering him tissues to wipe his mouth, that it would have been easier if you’d fallen harder for Kazuo. If you’d fallen hard enough to cling to him even when his heroic ambitions pulled him away, hard enough to hold on even when the overuse of his quirk destroyed his ability to feel anything at all, hard enough to fight for him even when he doesn’t see a point to trying at anything any longer. It would have been hard, sure. But at the same time, it would have been easier for everyone involved if you’d felt for Kazuo the way you feel for Tenko.
You and Kazuo fall asleep on the bathroom floor, and in the morning, you’ve got a backache and a hangover. So does everybody else, but there’s something at least a little relieving in the fact that you’re all suffering together. You’ve got work, but it’s a half day, and it starts at noon. Plenty of time for you to go home and take a shower and try to sober up the rest of the way.
At least that’s what you think. When you step out of the bathroom in your apartment wrapped in a towel, you step directly into a warp gate, and it swallows you whole.
Kurogiri said he’d tell you what you were walking into the next time Tenko summoned you, but maybe he just forgot. You think you can probably talk Tenko into sending you back long enough to put on clothes. But once your feet touch the ground, it’s clear that you aren’t in the bar, where you’ve been nearly every time Tenko’s called for you. The air is cold and clammy, and there’s a strange smell, half antiseptic, half rot. You know this smell. You remember it from a field trip you took in nursing school. It smells like a morgue.
It smells like a morgue, and it’s pitch-black. You can’t see your hand in front of your face. Where’s Tenko? You can’t imagine him summoning you here without an explanation – which means he’s not the one who summoned you. Who did?
A voice issues from the darkness, deep and almost friendly. “Do you know who I am?”
The revulsion and terror that sweeps over you at the sound of his voice are almost enough to bring you to your knees. But you grew up in a family full of quirk users whose quirks affected the mind and body, and they loved to practice on you. Sixteen years of surviving it gives you the experience to stay on your feet. And when you think about it, you do know who this is. “You’re Sensei,” you say, and the man in the darkness makes a pleased sound. “Shigaraki’s master.”
“Very good,” the man says, but it isn’t – you only remembered to use Tenko’s new name at the last second. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me who you are – and who you are to Tomura.”
“I’m – nobody,” you say. Sensei’s influence over you intensifies, and you keep your feet with an effort. “I’m a nurse. He came to the clinic I work at last year. He’d hurt his wrist.”
“I see,” Sensei says after a moment. “Had you met Tomura before that time?”
Tomura? No. You shake your head, only to remember that Tenko’s master probably can’t see in the dark. “No.”
“But you’ve seen him since.”
“Yes,” you say. “When he’s injured, he sends Kurogiri to find me. So I can help.”
“I see,” Sensei says again. You’re tempted to point out that if the doctor, whoever the doctor is, had treated Tenko’s gunshot wounds, Tenko wouldn’t have needed to call for you in the first place. But that would escalate things. You keep your mouth shut. “Do you possess a healing quirk?”
“No.”
“That’s a shame,” Sensei remarks. “Would you like one?”
“No,” you say at once. Maybe too quickly, given the insanity of the statement. “It’s not possible to give quirks.”
“It is. And they can be taken away just as easily,” Sensei says. You stay quiet, and when he speaks again, it’s a change of subject. “It seems Tomura has taken a liking to you.”
“I – I wouldn’t know,” you stammer. How much does Tenko’s master know? “I don’t know how Shigaraki feels about anything.”
“Thankfully, I do.” Sensei goes silent for a moment. “I suppose it’s wise of Tomura to keep a medical provider in his orbit, even if you would be more useful to him with a healing quirk. What is your quirk?”
Your stomach instantly twists into a knot. “I don’t have one.”
“Mm.” Sensei’s voice takes on a reflective note. “Let’s remedy that.”
The darkness is complete. You don’t see the hand coming; all you can do is startle when it clamps down over your face, enormous and rough and hot. Your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp, too quiet to be a scream but still too close for comfort. But just as suddenly as the hand settled over your face, it pulls away with equal speed. Sensei chuckles, a low, dark sound that makes your skin crawl. “You’ve been dishonest with me, but I can’t fault you for not sharing what you don’t know.”
You’ve been dishonest, yes. It doesn’t seem like he knows about that. But what don’t you know? “Sir? I don’t understand.”
“You have manners. It’s a shame Tomura won’t appreciate them,” Sensei says. “You will understand in time. Kurogiri?”
The mist begins to billow around you – and at the same time, it clears partially, revealing the shape of the man standing before you. He’s terrifyingly large, looming over you, and his face – “I would advise against telling Tomura of our meeting,” Sensei says as you stare up at him in terror, “but that is ultimately your decision to make. You and I will have no further dealings. Tomura has chosen you as a piece in his game. I will leave you to him.”
The terror drowns you. You fight to keep your head above water. “Yes, sir.”
“Sir,” Sensei repeats. “I do like that.”
The tone in his voice breaks your composure, just as the mist closes around you. By the time Kurogiri deposits you back on the floor in your apartment – in your apartment, they know where you live – you’re hyperventilating, panicking, almost out of your mind. “Shigaraki Tomura will call for you this evening,” Kurogiri says. “I do not know his purpose. I advise you to be prepared for either possibility.”
For a date. Or for a meeting with his new allies. You’ve never felt less prepared for anything in your life. Kurogiri vanishes, and you curl up in a ball, shivering. Maybe it’s from the cold. Maybe it’s from the smell of rot. Maybe it’s from the pure terror of meeting Tenko’s master, of the lingering sensation of his hand closing over your face. Whatever it is, you have to get rid of it. And you still have to go to work. You crawl back to the bathroom, turn the shower on scalding, and climb in.
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squoxle · 2 months
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⋆˚✿˖° This Means I Love You ~ YunKi
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𐙚𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: bf!jake x bsf!riki x fm!reader | 𐙚𝓌𝒸: 3.6k | 𐙚𝓅𝓁𝑜𝓉: with your birthday coming up, your best friend, Riki, took this as a chance to get closer to you. | 𐙚𝒸𝓌: fluff, drama, and a bit of crack <3 (use of nicknames) oh, and some kissing, i forgot to mention that
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ᯓ★ "Still playing Jeopardy with your teacher?" you laughed as you read Riki's text. "If you're referring to my history project, then yes," you responded.
ᯓ★ "Yikes, what a dork. I guess it's better you than me," he replied, attaching a shrugging emoji to the end of the message. "Wow, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better," you joked. "You're welcome," he said sarcastically. "Let me know if you need any more cheering up, m'kay."
ᯓ★ Introducing your best friend, Riki Nishimura: tall, dark-haired, witty, and just about as sweet as a sour patch kid. You first bonded on your shared homeschool experiences and have been friends ever since.
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There was a time when you started to like him, but you quickly moved on as it was obvious that he was not interested in a relationship with you. You were more like a sister to him, though the amount of times he called you "bro" or "dude" made you sound more like a brother.
A part of you sometimes felt those old feelings resurfacing, but you just blamed them on the history the two of you had. Especially once you started a real relationship with your current boyfriend, Jake.
With your birthday coming up in five days, you were hustling to get your last assignments done before the weekend. You wanted to enjoy this day without the stress of your instructors. Cramming like this wouldn't be easy, but you knew it would benefit you in the long-run.
"Hey, babe," your boyfriend, Jake sang as you answered his call. you were in the middle of completing a history project that wasn't due until Sunday. "How's my birthday girl doing?"
"It's not my birthday yet," you smiled, closing out your tabs. "I still have to wait a few more days."
"I know, but I wanted to make sure I was the first one to say it," he mumbled, you could tell he was pouting by the tone of his voice. You always loved that cute puppy expression he had. "What are you doing anyway?"
"I was just working on something for my history class," you replied, closing your laptop.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were busy," he apologized.
"It's okay, I was getting ready to take a break anyway," you shrugged. "So, what are you doing today?"
"Well, I was actually just about to head out."
"Oh, really? Where?"
"Ah, I was just gonna go pick up my beautiful girlfriend we can go early birthday shopping."
"What!?"
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Unless she'd rather keep tickling her keyboard."
You laughed before responding. "Just let me throw something on real quick, okay," you climbed out of your seat, stretching your back as you stood up. "And you don't have to go overboard. It's just my birthday."
"That's a very important day, baby. And we don't have to do too much, but I wanna make you feel special."
"You already do enough for me, Jake."
"Alright, well I'm on my way over there and you better be ready, or else I'm gonna pick your clothes out for you," you giggled, thinking about the last time he put an outfit together for you. It wasn't the worst, but it definitely wasn't the best.
"Fine, fine. I'm going," you smiled. "Byeee~"
"Bye," he chuckled before you cut the call.
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You were excited to spend some time with your boyfriend, especially at the mall. You quickly pulled on some sweats and a comfy top before slipping into some sneakers. Luckily you never really took too long to get dressed so you were ready about ten minutes before your boyfriend pulled up.
"That's what you're gonna wear?" he asked as you climbed into the passenger seat.
"Uhhh, yeah. Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"No, I just thought you were gonna dress up y'know? Like wear something nice..."
"Oh," you awkwardly replied as he pulled out of your driveway.
"So, do you know what you wanna get for your birthday?" Jake asked trying to change the conversation.
"Umm, not really. I just wanna enjoy some free time with my friends."
"And your boyfriend," he added in a singsongy tone.
"Of course," you smiled. "How could I forget about you?"
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You and Jake spent about two hours at the mall, shopping and eating, before he pointed to a Photo Booth. "D'you wanna take some pictures over there?" he asked as your eyes darted in the direction of the colorful booth.
"Do I have a choice?" you asked.
"Nope," he chuckled, dragging you behind the curtain.
You sat next to your boyfriend as he pushed the quarters into the machine. The booth was illuminated with a bright white light and the control panel was an array of cute colorful buttons that Jake pressed eagerly.
"Smile, babe," he pulled you close to him as you both took turns posing. "You can put these on your mirror," he smiled as he reached to grab the photo reel before handing it to you.
"This would look super cute," you smiled, looking over the multiple headshots.
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"I'm gonna print out a copy for myself," he giggled, leaning forward to pay for a copy. "Damn," he swore.
"What?"
"I ran out of time," he sighed. "Oh well, we can just take a few more. I'll keep that set," he said as he paid for another round.
You prepared yourself for another round as he placed a hand on your thigh. "____,"
"Yeah?" you turned to face your boyfriend.
"I wanna give you an early birthday gift," he smiled picking up your hand.
"You don't have to do that," you titled your head to the side. "I just have to wait five more days. It's probably even less now."
"But I really want you to have this now," he smiled, reaching into his back pocket. "I've had it for a while now," he said as he opened the box, revealing a gold chain with your birthstone on it.
"Jake," you hummed, admiring the necklace. "It's beautiful."
"Wait, you haven't even seen the best part yet," he smiled excitedly before breaking the clasp with a click. A picture of you and him on one side of the gold frame. On the other side the words "I love you" were engraved with the day you first started dating sitting beneath it.
"This is so sweet. Thanks, Jake. I love it," you smiled as he reached to secure the necklace around you.
"I love you, ____," he smiled as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“Hey, look. The pictures came out,” you pointed as the sheets fell into the tray.
Not to make a big deal out of something so small, but saying "I love you" always felt really awkward. So you never said it. Not one time over the past three months you'd been together.
Luckily, Jake didn’t make a big deal out of it either.
“Wow,” he exclaimed. “These are perfect!” You looked at the sheet to see that it had captured shots of your reactions. Jake was right…the really were perfect.
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You wished you could just be a better girlfriend for him. You thought back to the first time he said it. You felt like time had stopped completely as you stood there dazed.
From the moment you started dating you had this feeling. Like something was preventing you from loving him. Yes, you liked Jake. But did you love him?
You, Jake, and Riki were all friends at one point. Jake, being the oldest of the group, wasn’t around as much. But that didn’t stop him from falling for you.
By the time Jake dropped you off at home, the last thing you wanted to do was play “catch up” with your history teacher. So you went to bed. But one question sat in your mind.
Why should you be with someone that you can’t love. We were great as friends, but everything is different now.
To this day, you could only ever say that you truly loved one person…
The next few days practically flashed before your eyes as you submitted your last assignment.
"Finally," you sighed as the words "successfully uploaded" popped up on your submission. You leaned back in your chair, taking in the last few moments before your birthday.
You watched as your digital alarm clock blinked at 12:00. It was the next day. Your birthday. You felt your phone buzz and turned it over to see a long text from your parents and your boyfriend.
You slowly glazed your eyes across the screen as you rested your head on your pillow. Not having much energy left in you, you simply reacted to the messages with a heart and thanked them for their wishes.
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The sun warmed your back as rays peeked in through your blinds. The sound of footsteps followed by some inaudible murmurings came from behind your bedroom door. You already knew it was gonna be your parents so you pretended to be asleep and hid under the covers just as they walked in.
"Happy Birthday,____," they hollered in unison. Your dad was holding his phone up to record the whole thing as your mom held a plate of pancakes topped with whipped cream, berries, chocolate chips, and sprinkles.
She slowly approached your bed, careful not to blow out the candle on top as she sang the birthday song. Your dad, of course, was off-key as usual which always made you smile. Sometimes you thought he did it on purpose.
"Thanks, Mom and Dad," you smiled as your dad hollered, "Make a wish!"
"I was going to," you giggled as you closed your eyes to blow out the candle. To be honest, there was only one thing on your mind right now and you hated the fact that it wasn't your boyfriend. Instead it was...
"Riki!" your eyes widened in shock as he grinned from ear to ear. You wondered why he didn't send you a text, but you just assumed he had gone to sleep already. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see your mom," he joked as your dad sneered at him. "It was a joke," he chuckled. "I'm joking one hundred percent."
"Uh huh, you better be," you dad raised an eyebrow.
"Well," your mom smiled awkwardly as she grabbed your dad's hand. "Let's leave them alone, Hun," she suggested.
"I got my eyes on you, buddy," your dad pointed at Riki as your mother led him out of the room. Riki smiled as he raised his hand to his forehead, saluting your dad.
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"Okay, so what are you really doing over here?" You asked.
"I wanted to hang out with you for a bit before 'you-know-who' shows up," he rolled his eyes before swiping whipped cream on his finger.
"Hey!" you gasped, pulling the plate closer to you.
"What? It's not like you were eating them anyway," he shrugged, picking up a pancake slice before dipping it in the pool of syrup.
"Well if your gonna mooch off me you should at least ask first," you hummed, poking a fork through on of the fluffy stacked slices.
"Fine. Then can I have some of your pancakes," he smiled sarcastically.
"Sure," you nodded as you held the fork to your mouth. "Hey!" you exclaimed as he grabbed your hand, pinching the pancake off of your fork before plopping it in his mouth.
"You said I could have some," he said with a mouth full of pancakes.
"Ugh," you sighed before dividing the stacks in two. "There now you have your side and I have mine."
"Why do you have more than me?"
"What? No, I don't it's the same on both sides," you said turning the plate left and right.
"Look, I get it's your birthday and all, but I'm obviously bigger than you. So I need more calories for my body size," he smiled, tipping the plate downward.
"Yeah, right," you scoffed. "You either eat for your side or leave my pancakes alone."
"Jeez," he sighed. "I liked the person you were yesterday."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Now that you're a year older, you're a cranky old bit-" you pulled the plate out of his reach. "I'm kidding," he laughed.
"Nah, you better go find something else to eat, you moocher."
"Look, I'm sorry," he tilted his head to the side. "See I apologized. And I don't do that often."
"Hmm, that's true."
"So I think I deserve a reward."
"A reward? For what?"
"For showing you a little kindness," you rolled your eyes as he flashed the cheesiest smile he could muster.
"The only reward you deserve is me not shoving my foot up your ass," you mumbled, stuffing a pancake in your mouth as you place the plate between the two of you.
"Thanks, birthday girl," he smiled, nodding his head slightly before picking up a pancake and a strawberry. "When we finish we should probably go help your mom set everything up huh?"
"Yeah," you hummed. "I missed hanging out with you."
"I missed it too. It's just been different since y'know..."
"Jake?"
"Yeah..."
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The two of you finished eating, you went to the kitchen to help decorate for your party. Your dad was busy outside grilling and your mom was pulling out supplies. You didn't mind helping your parents set up your party. A lot of times you actually enjoyed it.
"Hey, I'm gonna head out for a bit," Riki waved as he walked over to the door.
"Okay, well since you're gonna be out already, can you pick up the cake too," your mom asked, looking over her shoulder. "They're already paid for."
"Sure," he nodded, twirling his keys around his finger. "Did you need anything else?"
"No, that's the only thing we had to pick up."
"M'kay. I'll let you know when I'm on my way back," he twisted the doorknob.
"Okay, well don't be too long. The party starts at 2."
"I'll be back before then," he said, pulling out his phone to check the time before leaving.
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After what felt like thirty minutes you heard a knock on the door. "I'll get it," you hollered, assuming it was Riki.
"Hey, birthday girl," Jake smiled, holding his arms behind his back.
"Jake? The party doesn't start until 2," you raised your eyebrow as he wrapped his arm around you.
"I know, but I wanted to bring you this," he pulled a medium-sized bag from behind his back.
"What is it?"
"A dress for you to wear tonight."
You pulled it out of the bag to see a baby blue dress. "Thanks, Jake. It's really pretty. And it's my favorite color," you smiled.
"I knew you'd like it."
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Your dad walked in wiping his hands with a towel that he swung over his shoulder as he extended his hand to your boyfriend. "Hey, Jake. You're kinda early for the party. It won't start for another hour."
Jake shook his hand, "I know, but I want to bring her something to wear tonight."
"See this is why I like you better than that Riki kid," your dad rolled his eyes, looking over to you.
They liked to joke about how much they disliked each other, but you'd lost count of the times you caught them up late hanging out together. Honestly, Riki was right. Even a couple months before you started dating Jake a lot of things had already started to change. Today was the first time in a while you hung out like this.
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"Riki? I didn't know he was here," Jake tilted his head to the side.
"Oh, he's not right now. He went about 30 minutes ago to pick up the c-" Your dad was cut off by a knock at the door. Your mom walked over to open it, letting Riki in.
"Got the cake and some throw-away stuff. I didn't know if you had some already," he said as your mom took the cake box out of his hands, two bags dangling from his arms.
"Hey," Riki nodded in Jake's direction.
"Hey," Jake said in a concerned tone.
"I'm almost finished grilling if you want to help me out here," your dad smiled, placing a hand on Jake's shoulder, guiding him through the back door.
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The party finally started a little bit around 2:15. Friends, family, and neighbors brought gifts for you. You wondered if they still would've brought gifts if your parents did make it a requirement.
The dress Jake bought for you earned you a lot of compliments, but you were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed so you walked off to your room.
"Riki?" you paused at the door, noticing that he was sitting on your bed. "What are you doing in here?"
"Getting away from the noise."
"You couldn't do that anywhere else?"
"I'm not really in the mood to marinate in your bathroom."
"Fine, well if you're gonna be in here don't talk to me."
"I didn't plan on it."
"Good. Because I came in here for some peace and quiet," you hummed, plopping down on the bed beside him. You felt his eyes on you as you lay there struggling to go into your headspace. "What?"
"Nothing," he shook his head turning away.
"Just tell me," you sighed sitting up. "I can tell that you wanted to say something."
"I thought you didn't want to talk."
"I don't, but I don't like you looking at me all weird either."
"Sometimes I wonder how things would've gone for us if I asked you out before Jake," he mumbled.
"Wait, what?"
"Nothing, just forget I said anything," he exhaled as he stood to his feet.
"Riki," you called his name as he approached the bedroom door.
"What?"
You walked up to him, placing your hands on his shoulders as he stood in front of you. You stood there for a moment before he held your chin in his hands, kissing you on the lips. "What are you doing?!" you spat, swatting his hand away.
"I can tell you don't like Jake as much as want people to think."
He wasn't entirely wrong about that. It wasn't that you didn't love Jake, because you did...or at least you wanted to. As much as you hated the truth, you used Jake to help u get over your feelings for Riki.
"Just think about it, okay," he tilted his head to the side.
"I'm already with Jake."
"He's just your boyfriend, not your husband."
"Rik-" you were cut off by your mom coming into your room.
"Hey, we're about to do cake and presents," she smiled. "Come on,” she huffed, pushing past Riki and grabbing your arm. “Everyone is waiting for you.”
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As you walked down the hallway into the kitchen you heard all of the guests singing happy birthday as Jake held the cake.
Riki stood in the hallway, staying out of the way of the many cameras circling around you all desperately trying to catch the perfect moment.
You smiled as everyone took pictures of you.
“Okay, you can blow out your candles now,” he smiled as they finished singing.
You closed your eyes again. Darkness surrounded you as you thought back to your wish from earlier.
You saw yourself with Riki, holding his hand as the two of you sat on the wooden fence that enclosed the nearby lake. The sun was setting as he looked over to you, resting on his shoulder.
He leaned over to kiss you on the forehead. “Why’d you do that?” You asked.
“Because you looked stupid.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That means, I love you,” he smiled, pulling you in for a side hug.
“I love you too.”
Your eyes shot open as the sounds of everyone clapped filled your ears.
“What’d you wish for?” Jake asked.
“If I tell you it won’t come true,” you smiled.
“Hmph. Fair enough,” he smiled before turning back around. “Who’s ready for some cake!” He exclaimed.
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After the party was finally over, your mom came into your room. “Hey, I forgot to tell you that Riki left something for you in the fridge when he came over this morning. He told me he didn’t want you to open it until the party was over. And since it’s still your birthday I figured you better hurry,” she smiled before walking off.
“Wait, mom! Aren’t you gonna tell me what it is?!”
You waited in silence as you heard your mom's footsteps trail down the hall before closing her bedroom door.
"Ugh!" you sighed before hopping out of your bed and checking the fridge. At first, you didn't see anything that wasn't there earlier. You bent down a bit to look through the glass shelves before setting your eyes on a brown cardboard box.
You reached to the back of the highest shelf and pulled the small box out. Inside was a red velvet cupcake with a charm bracelet around the bottom and a small handwritten note.
Riki's handwriting was probably the worst you'd ever seen for someone his age, you thought to yourself as you casually opened the note and rolled your eyes, the cool air from the fridge still kissed the back of your legs as the door shut slowly.
You were expecting to see some stupid comment inside the card, but instead, there were two theme park tickets and a little message that read, "These are for you and a special someone." Though you initially assumed he was referring to Jake, your conversation from earlier made you think otherwise.
You bit into the moist cupcake as you thought about who you should take on this little date.
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𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎!!! @leejenosworld I made this story just for you lol :) I hope you liked it. <3
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❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
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❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa
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tightjeansjavi · 1 year
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐫.𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫?
Part 2: “Chains and Whips Excite Me”
Joel Miller x f! reader NSFW 🔞
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A/N: so originally I was not going to write a part 2 to this little slice of sub! Joel heaven but then the idea struck me today so I was like fuck it! Let’s roll with it. I gotta say, this is beyond filthy. The end has SO much fluff it’s got me giggling and kicking my feet like a little girl. Enjoy! 🫶🏻
~word count: 6.1k~
Summary: Joel really enjoyed the last time you took control so much, that he wants you to do it again. This time, with the proper tools.
Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, sub/switch! Joel!, dom/switch reader, consensual power play, use of a safe word, BDSM, bondage, whip play, collar play, edging, teasing, praise kink, handcuffs, Joel doesn’t like being a sub but he does it for you, till the cuffs snap of course, reader calls Joel a good boy, dominatrix vibe till the cuffs snap, pussy eating, unprotected p in v, (wrap it kids) rough consensual sex, light choking, overstimulation, lots of filth, sex toys, very short game of cat and mouse, consent, heavy after care, Joel feels bad for overstimulating you, all the feels, no angst, just a whole lot of debauchery, fluff at the end with you, Joel and Ellie the next morning (+18), NSFW MINORS DNI!
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“Joel? Baby? Where the actual fuck are you taking me?” Your eyes were blindfolded with a thick piece of fabric but you were acutely aware of your lover's close proximity to you. His hands were at your waist, guiding you protectively to…well, wherever the hell he was taking you.
“Easy now, sugar. We’re almost there.” His lips were at the shell of your ear and his warm Texas drawl sent shivers down your spine.
“This isn’t where you murder me..right?” You nervously giggled.
“What? Ain’t no way—you’re bein’ silly baby. Why on earth would I do somethin’ like that?” He responded incredulously.
“Okay okay. I’m just checking because you brought me god no’s where. Y’know, I think it was just a logical thing for me to ask.”
Joel chuckled deeply, his warmth breath tickling the sensitive skin below your ear. “Yeah well trust me, baby. You’re gonna love where I brought you.” He reassured you.
“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that Miller.”
Joel had grasped your hips firmly in his calloused hands, yanking you back against his chest before he took one hand and brought it around your face and untied the makeshift blindfold. “Surprise.” He whispered, a grin spreading across his lips.
You blinked a few times as your eyes readjusted to the lighting and after a few seconds you realized he had brought you to an abandoned mall. Your eyes drifted up to the faded moss covered sign that read Spencer's.
“Oh my god, you’re joking right?” You said in disbelief as you turned and looked over your shoulder at your grinning man. “Joel, you know what this place is right?”
“Do I know what this place is? Honey, I’m old but I ain’t that old. I had a girlfriend back in highschool that dragged me to this place before prom night. She wore one of those candy bras and matching thongs. She wanted to put me in a collar and I said absolutely fuckin’ not.” He chuckled as he watched your reaction.
“Are you purposely bringing up your ex-girlfriend from highschool to make me jealous? You remember what happened the last time I got jealous?” You responded with a light giggle.
“Oh baby, do I remember? Fuck yeah I do. Why the hell do ya think I brought ya out here in the first place?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in your direction before he gave you a firm nudge forward.
“You sly fucking dog. You want me to tie you up again?” You gave him a playful glare as he nudged you forward into the store that took you right on back to the early 2000’s.
“Yeah baby, I do. Figured it would be way more fun if you had the proper tools y’know?” He followed closely behind, stepping over moth eaten shirts and moldy backpacks. You both seemingly knew that what you were looking for was in the far back of the store.
Your eyes zoned in on the bondage section immediately and Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes when you picked up a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs and twirled them playfully around your finger. “How do you feel about these, big boy?”
“Jesus Christ. Do they really gotta be pink? I swear to god if Tommy—or god forbid Ellie finds ‘em, I might actually have to kill ya after all sweet cheeks.”
“Baby, you can use them on me too y’know? I don’t think we have to worry about your brother or adopted daughter finding our stuff Joel. Relax, honey.” You shot him a playful wink.
Joel grumbled under his breath, saying something unintelligible as he crossed his arms over his chest with a huff.
You had picked up a black riding crop that had a red heart stitched on the faux leather. You couldn’t help but teasingly drag the crop across his chest with a giggle. “What about this baby? You into me whipping you a little?” You looked up at him, lashes fluttering as you lightly tapped the crop against his bulging bicep.
“How can I say no when you’re lookin’ at me with those goddamn eyes?” He uncrossed his arms from his chest, bringing his thumb and forefinger against your smooth chin before he stole a quick kiss.
“Mhm these eyes that make any man go weak in the knees, but especially my man.” You hummed against his lips, kissing him back sweetly before slipping the crop into his hands along with the pink fluffy handcuffs.
“Look, my only request is that you don’t get any nipple clamps…well, unless you wanna use them on you, and please god nothing that would hurt my balls.”
“Oh baby, you’re so cute. You’re not down for a little nipple play?” You were already reaching for a packaged pair of nipple clamps as you fluttered your lashes at him once more.
“Fuckin’ hell. Fine, you little minx.” He grumbled.
You blew your man a kiss before tossing the small packaged nipple clamps into his hands. “So, I know you said that you wouldn’t let your ex girlfriend put you in a collar..but what if it were me asking you? Would your answer be different?”
Joel’s mouth went dry as you innocently were holding a black spiked collar that had a metal heart connecting in the middle. He watched as you twirled the chain between your fingers, swinging it back and forth. “I’m really startin’ to regret tellin’ ya that story.” Even though the thought of you yanking him around like a leashed dog, was undeniably turning him on just a bit.
“Are you sure you’re regretting telling me that story baby?” You softly cooed as you stepped towards him. “Because just close your eyes, just for a moment. Now, I want you to picture me handcuffing you to a chair. I want you picturing me putting this collar on you while I slide up and down your thick cock. You can feel every inch of my pussy on you baby. Can you picture that?” You purred and Joel just about folded right then and there.
“Fuck me darlin.’” He rasped out, his voice sounding slightly strained as the images of you riding him deliciously settled into his brain. Your fingers wrapped around the chain, tugging on it so he’s looking up at you. Calling him a good boy—
“We’ll get to that part baby I promise. Now I think we have just about everything I need..is there anything you’d like to grab?”
Joel was already making a b-line for the lingerie section, of course. He loved seeing you naked but god, to see you wearing one of these little numbers just for him? It would surely be the end of him.
You watched in pure amusement as your man grabbed various different lingerie sets. He looked like a kid in a fucking candy shop with how excited he was.
“You’re not wasting any time. Huh cowboy?” You giggled.
“Absolutely fuckin’ not darlin.’ It ain’t everyday I get to see my girl dressed up in lingerie. Man’s fantasy fuckin’ come true.” He moved to the sex toy section, humming to himself as he grabbed a purple wand that was marked as waterproof along with a few packs of batteries that (hopefully) would still work. “Don’t think this comes into any comparison of what my tongue is capable of, but I think we can have a little fun with this honey. It’s waterproof too.” He shot you a wink.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his comment of a vibrator being no match for his tongue. “Yeah? Well, keep eating pussy like a man starved, and there definitely will be no comparison.”
“Ain’t got no reason to not eat your pussy that way, sweet cheeks.” He chuckled as he grabbed a couple bottles of lube and suction cup dildo.
“What the hell are we gonna need lube for Joel?”
“You never know darlin.’ We might find ourselves needin’ it one of these days. Better to be prepared, right?”
“You’re not sticking it in my ass Miller. There’s no fucking way.” You slid your backpack off your shoulder as you packed it filled with the things from the sex store.
“Who the hell said anythin’ about me stickin’ it in your ass?” He grinned at your immediate reaction.
“Oh bullshit. You’re totally fucking bluffing baby.”
Joel just gave you a little shrug as he zipped up his bag. Before leaving the store, and while he wasn’t paying attention, you grabbed a t-shirt that said “I Love My Lesbian Daughter” and stuffed it in your bag. Ellie was going to fucking love this.
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The ride back to Jackson was filled to the brim with laughter and sexual tension. Dinner in the mess hall was quick and you and Joel were both relieved that Ellie was going over to Dina’s for the evening. Joel still hadn’t caught onto the fact that his kid was dating Dina but Ellie had told you one night but you swore to her that you wouldn’t tell Joel.
Your man was having a quick, head clearing shower while you placed the folded t-shirt on the end of Ellie’s bed with a little note.
You used the spare bathroom to put on one of the many lingerie sets that Joel had picked out for you. This set was pretty, lacy, and would in no doubt drive Joel up a fucking wall once he saw you in it. The top was a laced up bodice, and the cups barely contained your breasts that were nearly spilling over the top of the fabric. You paired it with the black stockings that had delicate lace that sat at the top of your thighs. You attached the two clips to the garter and surely they were not built to withstand much pressure at all. The matching black thong left little to the imagination as the tooth floss thin fabric sat perfectly between your cheeks.
Heels would have been ideal to finish off this look but you stuck with your usual boots knowing that Joel would enjoy seeing you in them.
As soon as you could hear the water shutting off through the pipes, you quickly grabbed your bag and headed downstairs. You flicked all the lights off, just like the last time and you waited patiently for your man as you made yourself comfortable on one of the kitchen chairs. You gingerly crossed one leg over the other as you lightly twirled the pink fuzzy handcuffs around your finger lazily.
You heard his heavy footsteps padding down the hall and the staircase as he called out your name. When your man finally came into view, you were pleased to see that he was wearing just a robe. You were pleased till you realized it was the fucking robe that one of the mess hall ladies gifted to Joel at last years town Christmas party. She had an enormous crush on your man and after a few too many glasses of spiked eggnog, she had no problem flirting up a storm with him.
“Hey baby.” He rasped as his eyes adjusted to the low lighting. He sucked in a harsh breath when he found you sitting, and wearing his personal favorite choice of lingerie that he had grabbed for you.
“You wore that robe on purpose, didn’t you?” You raised an eyebrow as you leaned forward slightly so he could get a good look at your cleavage nearly spilling out to his greedy eyes.
“What? This old thing? Yeah, Susan gifted it to me, remember?” He grinned as he strode around the table towards the empty chair that wasn’t occupied with you.
“As if I needed to remember the way she flirted your fucking ear off. Sit down, Mr. Miller. Don’t make me ask you twice.”
Joel swallowed the thick lump growing in his throat hard as he slowly sank down onto the chair opposite of yours. “My god, you look so fuckin’ gorgeous right now baby. Jesus Christ. I’m so happy you picked out that one it’s my—”
You cut him off sternly. “Did I fucking say you could talk baby? Don’t think so.” You slowly stood up from your chair, walking the short distance till you were standing between his open thighs. You leaned down, grasping his chin between your fingers. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me baby?”
Joel was itching to touch you already. To grab a handful of your ass and yank you forward so he could bury his face between your two luscious, pillowy breasts and lick every inch of skin that he could reach— “yes baby, of course I’ll be a good boy for you. Before we get into this, I think we should uh—come up with a safe word yeah? Cause if you’re gonna be whippin’ me and shit..” he trailed off as he lifted his warm, dark brown eyes up to gaze upon your pretty face.
You just about folded from his look alone as you ever so slightly tighten your fingers grip around his chin. “A safe word? Yeah, of course baby. We can always use a safe word.”
Joel tapped his fingers along the outside of his thighs, already feeling his cock twitch under the robe. It really took nothing for you to turn him on and he fucking loved it. “Alright darlin’ how about—hmm..Beetlejuice?”
You let out a soft giggle at his suggestion for a safe word and the sound alone was sending blood southwards as he took his lip between his teeth, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “Like..Michael Keaton’s Beetlejuice?”
“Yeah, there a problem with that sugar?”
“No no. That’s perfect actually. I had a huge crush on Beetlejuice at one point.” You giggled, dragging your thumb across Joel’s lower lip as he nibbled on your fingertip gently.
“Oh of course you did.” He fought the urge to roll his eyes at your response.
You were grabbing a fistful of his dark, salt and pepper speckled hair as you yanked his head back against the chair. “Just remember to not say his name three times baby or else we’ll be in trouble. I catch you rolling your eyes at me again and you’re going to regret it Joel.”
Joel felt a growl crawling up the deep cavern of his throat as he gritted his teeth tightly, feeling his fists clench at his sides. “Yes ma’am” he rasped out.
“Good boy.” You gave him a quick kiss before you were stepping away from him and walked behind his chair, leaning down so your lips were at the shell of his ear. “Arms behind your back baby. Wrists together for me.”
Joel reluctantly brought his arms around the back of the chair, holding his wrists together. “Guess I’m gonna have to get real creative with snappin’ these off, Huh baby?” He chuckled.
“If you manage to snap these off somehow, you can take me any way you want to baby.” You whispered against his ear as you snapped the pink fuzzy cuffs around his wrists and gave them a good tug to be sure they were secure.
“Oh, I am absolutely fuckin’ snappin’ these off at some point honey. Better have your fun while you still can.” He spoke with amusement laced in his tone..which was short lived when he felt your hands untying the knot that held the robe together and exposing his warm, damp skin to your wandering eyes. From the angle you were at, you could see the head of his cock resting against the base of his stomach, leaking in precum.
“Is this turning you already baby?” You cooed softly, letting your lips kiss down the expanse of his exposed neck, greedily sucking on his skin, licking a hot stripe up to his earlobe before you lightly nibbled on it with your teeth.
Joel let out a low rumbled groan as he tilted his head to the side, granting you easier access. He was so used to being the one to kiss on you but god, your lips felt delicious against his warm skin. “Mhm. My cock is aching for you darlin.’”
You reached behind you, grasping the leather hilt of the riding crop and slowly dragged it across his jaw, down his neck, across his chest as it lightly grazed his nipples. The sensation to him was new, and unfamiliar, but he liked it. So much so that he let a low hiss slip past his lips.
His cock instinctively twitched against his stomach and his muscles clenched as the cool leather descended past his navel. He could feel your grin creeping against his skin as you dragged the leather across his leaking tip. You couldn’t help but giggle as his hips bucked up from the feather light touch.
“You think this is fuckin’ funny darlin?’ Teasin’ me like this with that fuckin’ crop? You little minx I swear to god when I break out of these—” his low growl transfixed into a whimper when you brought the crop down swiftly against his inner thigh, stinging his skin from the sensation. You wasted no time to grab his jaw with your free hand and yank his head up so he was forced to look at you. “You shut the fuck up and be a good boy, baby. You got that?” Your eyes narrowed into his.
Joel let out a shuddered breath when he saw how dark your pupils had grown and he let out a low hiss when you brought the crop down on his inner thigh once more before he swiftly nodded. “Yes, baby. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be a good boy for you.” He pleaded.
Joel being a sub for you was by far the hottest fucking thing he had ever done. You were obsessed with having him at your mercy. To do with him whatever, and however you pleased. You rewarded him with a chaste kiss, slotting your lips together as you took full dominance. As soon as you felt him trying to take control of the kiss, you slapped his thigh with the crop a little harder this time and the leather just barely grazed his balls. He retreated shortly after.
Your tongues tangled together, teeth clashing as you lightly dragged the whip up and down his thick veiny cock. The sensation wasn’t nearly enough for Joel. It was driving him up a wall already and you could sense his frustration brewing deep in his gut. “Baby..” he mumbled against your lips, letting out what sounded like a groan, mixed in with a whimper. “Please don’t tease me anymore honey. I can’t take it much longer. I’m hurtin’ real fuckin’ bad. I need your touch. Your mouth, your pussy. Fuckin’ anythin’, please darlin.’” Joel Miller was begging you to touch him.
You grinned against his lips, parting from the kiss slightly so you could watch his face, see his brows furrowed and his eyes darken. You just barely kissed him now, tilting your head back slightly when he tried to properly kiss you once more. “Yeah baby? You want my touch that fucking bad? Huh pretty boy?” You cooed, letting your free hand slowly dip down his chest, navel, dragging your fingers along his taut skin that clenched inwards from the contact.
Joel let out a deep growl as he tugged harshly on the handcuffs secured around his wrists. The desire to have some sense of control was driving him mad as he narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m fuckin’ begging you to touch me darlin.’ Please do somethin’ before I lose my goddamn mind over here.”
You slowly wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, giving him a firm tug before you dragged your thumb across his ruddy head, collecting the leaking precum from the tip. You gave his cock a few more firm tugs before you leaned down over his shoulder, and spit over his cock. Your saliva trailed past your soft lips and down his happy trail and cock. You used your saliva as lubricant as you continued to slowly pump your fist around him.
Joel’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull when he watched you filthily spit over his cock. You were something fucking else entirely and his brain was feeling like a goddamn scrambled egg. “Shit. Yeah baby, that’s it. Fuck. Can I get your sweet mouth too? You always suck my cock so well—”
“Who the fuck is running this show huh? You, or me, Miller?” You squeezed his cock slightly, scraping your nails across the veiny skin.
“Jesus fuck—you are baby. It’s your show. Not mine.” He hissed.
“That’s right. It’s my show. Don’t even fucking think about cumming either. You’re not allowed to till I fucking say.”
“Yes, baby.” He nearly whimpered when you dragged your thumb across his sensitive head as he jutted his hips into your hand desperately.
When he could no longer feel your touch around his aching cock, he tugged on the restraints once more as he watched you ever so casually release your grip around him and walk away from his chair.
“Where the fuck are you goin’ now? I swear to god darlin’ if you even think about leavin’ me down here like this I’m gonna make you regret it.” He tugged on the restraints again, trying to get a feel for if these things were cheaply made or not.
You didn’t respond as you bent down. Ass on full display as you reached into your backpack, pulling out the collar and attached chain. You swung the chain around in a tight circle, using your free hand to pull the thin fabric covering your pussy to the side, revealing your slick cunt to him as you faced him.
Joel’s jaw went slack at the sight of you. Your pussy in his direct view, looking soft and wet for him. His mouth watered at the sight and he swore he had drool dribbling down his chin. “Fuck me. You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby. Is your pretty little pussy wet for me? I bet she is. I bet she’s fuckin’ drippin’ right now. Can I have a taste? Please?”
You slowly dragged your panties down over your thighs and ankles, casually tossing the fabric at him with a giggle before you walked over to him. Your boots were heavy along the old hardwood and you slowly stopped between his thighs, unclasping the collar before you fastened it around his neck. You gave the chain attached to the collar a firm tug, yanking his head towards you. “You wanna have a taste of my pussy baby? That’s what you really want? Huh, pretty boy?”
Joel was not expecting his body to be so willingly responsive to the leather fastened around his neck. Nor did he expect the groan to be elicited past his lips when you tugged on the chain. “Please, pretty girl. Let me have a taste of your pussy. Let me bury my head between your thighs and drink you dry.”
You propped your one boot clad foot right between his thighs, feeling his body jolt slightly from how close your boot had gotten to his dick. You grabbed ahold of his shoulder with your free hand as you held yourself as close to his face as you physically could. You yanked on the chain once more, pulling his face to your soaked cunt.
Joel’s eyes flicked up to yours as he nuzzled his face between your thighs, nipping at the soft flesh before he buried his face deep into your cunt. He could already feel his back aching from the angle he was forced into but did he care? Not one fucking bit. His nose was firmly pressed into your pubic bone as he lapped frantically at you. His tongue swirled around your clit while the sharp stubble on his jaw was scraping at your inner thighs. You let out a low moan as you tightened your grip around the chain. “Fuck. That’s it baby. You’re being such a good boy for me right now. Mouth full of my fucking pussy. Eating me like a man starved.”
Your free hand that was gripped around his shoulder found purchase in his hair, tugging at the roots tightly. Your nails lightly scraped his scalp as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly on the little bud. The sounds he made were nothing short of obscene and filthy. Joel let out a hum against your pussy, driving his face deeper into your folds as you began to rock your hips into his face.
“You taste so fuckin’ sweet baby. Sweetest taste a man could ever dream of consumin.’ He mumbled, mouth full of your pussy. “She’s so needy for me baby. You gonna cum for me? I know you’re close. C’mon my pretty girl. Cum all over my fuckin’ face.” He growled. Joel desperately wished that his hands weren’t restrained right now just so he could grab your ass and drive your pussy deeper into his eager mouth. Alas, he was still biding his time.
You were falling apart above him. Stuttering over your words as filth spilt from your parted lips. If anyone were to walk in on your debauchery, you both surely would be getting a one way ticket straight to hell. Your hips desperately bucked into his face as you chased your impending orgasm. Your stomach grew taught and tight as you cried out his name. “Yes! Fuck. Don’t stop, Joel! Don’t you dare fucking stop!”
Joel could feel himself becoming a little light headed as he wasn’t taking breaths in between. He could feel stars pricking behind his closed eyes but he didn’t stop till you were spasming above him and cumming along his tongue. He drank up every last drop before your fingers released their tight grip on his hair and he was finally able to take in a lungful of air. His entire face, down to his beard and chin were coated in your slick. His breaths were heavy as your sex stained gaze fell upon his face between your thighs.
“Holy fucking shit Joel. I thought I was about to fucking pass out.” You let your free hand drop down to his jaw, gathering up a bit of slick along his chin before you brought your thumb up to his parted lips. You watched as he wrapped his lips around your thumb nail, nibbling on it with hooded eyes.
“You and me both, baby. I could barely fuckin’ breathe. Started seein’ stars behind my eyes and everythin.’ Your sweet little pussy is just that fuckin’ good.” He spoke breathlessly, revealing a boyish grin that would make a rare appearance every now and then.
“You were such a good boy for me baby. I’m going to reward you, okay?” You slipped your thumb from between his lips and yanked on the chain, bringing his lips up to your mouth where you could taste yourself on them as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue around yours before you were firmly pushing him back down into the chair.
Joel felt his throat go dry as you slowly lowered yourself into his lap, planting your feet on either side of his hips and he yanked at the restraints once more. He could tell that the cheap metal was slowly becoming pliable, bendable and it would only be a matter of time before he would be snapping those stupid pink fuzzy cuffs off. “I wish I could touch you so fuckin’ bad right now baby. Just wanna wrap my arms around ya and pound into that sweet little fuckin’ pussy.”
You both let out a low hiss when you had grabbed ahold of the base of his cock, dragging his tip across your slick folds as you rolled your hips against his. “Patience, pretty boy. I know how badly you want to fuck me. I’m aching for your cock Joel. Just want to feel you stretch me open..” you moaned wantonly, yanking on the chain so his face was close to yours. “C’mon and be a good boy. Tell me how bad you want my pussy, Joel. Tell me.”
A low growl was elicited from deep within his chest as you rocked your hips into his at a deliciously, agonizing slow pace. “I want your pussy so fuckin’ bad darlin.’ Only ever have wanted your pussy. She’s all fuckin’ mine.”
You slipped the head of his cock past your slick folds as you finally sank down onto him to the hilt. Your warm walls immediately clenched around him as he filled you up to the fucking brim. “All yours, Joel. All fucking yours Mr. Miller.” You moaned as you slowly rose up and down on his cock, rolling your hips as you rode him.
“That’s right baby. You’re all fuckin’ mine and I’m all fuckin’ yours.” He groaned deeply, eyes flirting down to watch the way you would hug his cock each time you rose and fell above him. He loved watching the way he would disappear inside of you and the way your thighs were already quivering. “Taking my cock so well darlin.’ You always grip me so fuckin’ tight. So pretty, so perfect for me.” He bucked his hips up into yours causing your lips to part as you let out an unexpecting gasp from the motion.
“Oh, fuck. Yes baby. You always fill me up so fuckin’ well Joel. I love you, I love your cock. Such a good boy for me.”
Joel thrusted his hips up into yours once more as he tugged on the restraints hard. From the force of his tugging, and harsh thrust of his hips, the cuffs suddenly snapped with a loud pop as they clattered to the ground.
You were already scrambling off of his cock when you heard the cuffs snap and you didn’t even get far from the chair before he was grabbing your wrist and yanking you firmly against his chest. The collar around his neck was unclasped and thrown onto the kitchen table as his hand found purchase around your throat. “Now, now. Where the hell do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart? Not so fuckin’ fast baby. Told you I was gonna break out of those stupid fuckin’ things.” He tsked under his breath as he used his free hand to wrap around your middle and pull you back down into his lap at his mercy.
“How the fuck did you even break out of those huh? They were on fucking tight!” You grumbled.
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter how I did it. Don’t ask anymore fuckin’ questions. Got it? Be a good fuckin’ girl for me and get back on my cock. You think I was done with ya or somethin?’” He growled against the side of your head, taking in a deep inhale of your natural scent mixed in with vanilla shampoo.
You took your lip between your teeth as you grabbed ahold of his cock once more, sinking down onto him. Your thighs were spread across his lap, feet on either side of his thighs as he held you in place. He filled you up even more if that was even possible. This angle had you feeling like you were being stretched to your limits as he bucked his hips up into you, feeling his balls slapping against your skin.
His arm stayed firmly wrapped around your middle, holding you flush against his chest as he fucked into you at a harsh pace, exerting all his energy into making you scream ontop of him. His hand that was wrapped around your throat, dropped to the kitchen table as he grasped the leather whip and wasted no time to continuously slap it against your swollen, puffy clit.
“You gonna fuckin’ cum all over my cock like a good fuckin’ girl baby?” He grunted against your hair, tapping the whip faster against your clit as he forcefully pulled your hips down on him as he continued to harshly thrust into you.
Your moans were turning into choked sobs as the sensation was becoming too much, too overwhelming and the safe word was on the tip of your tongue but you struggled to get the words out. “Joel—J-J-Joel baby I—can’t”
Joel’s ears had zoned in attentively on your sobs as he tried to decipher if they were sobs of pleasure, or if it had become too much and when you let out a strangled cry, his heart snapped and he immediately stopped, gently slipping you off his cock and tossed the whip aside, cradling you protectively against his chest. “Shh..shh..baby. Hey, breathe baby. You’re okay. You’re okay. I got you honey. Deep breaths for me, okay? I got you. You’re safe.” He whispered.
Your entire body was trembling around him as you continued to sob, clutching yourself around him like a koala.
“My sweet girl..m’so sorry. Why didn’t you use the safe word?” He spoke softly as he kissed the top of your head before gently grasping your face in his warm palms, wiping away your hot tears.
“I—I tried to say it but it was..it was too much.” You whimpered.
“Shh. I know, baby. I got you. M’sorry I didn’t stop sooner. You’re okay now. Safe here in my arms. I got you.” He continued to hold you till your body had seemingly recovered and had gone slack in his grip. He wrapped your legs around his waist gently before he lifted you up and carried you upstairs.
The rest of the evening you spent in the tub with your back resting against Joel’s chest as he took care of you. His movements were gentle, attentive and soft. He hummed against your ear as he gently washed between your thighs. He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, applied lotion to your legs before he dressed you in one of his T-shirts and boxers to sleep in. He carried you to bed, letting you be the little spoon as he held you close to him.
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Sometime in the night, Ellie had come home with Dina to grab her stash of weed. The two girls were mortified to say the least when they found the sex toys scattered along the floor in the entryway. Thank god for the booze in their system as they headed upstairs, hands interlocked and girlish giggles slipping past their lips.
Dina was the first to find the t-shirt and she held it up for Ellie to see as she grabbed her jar of joints. “Hey, El? Which one of your parents got you this shirt, you think?”
Ellie turned her focus on the white tee that her girlfriend was holding up and she couldn’t contain her giggles. “I Love My Lesbian Daughter. Yeah, my mom 100% is the one who got that for me. She’s so fuckin’ rad. My dad would totally never. He doesn’t even have a clue about us babe.”
“I literally want one of these shirts. We’ll have to ask her where she got it.” Dina said with a grin, tossing the shirt to her girlfriend who caught it with ease.
“I have a sneaking suspicion that they were at fucking sex shop or something.”
“Chains and whips must really get your parents going, huh?” Dina teased.
“Oh my god, gross! I do not need those images in my head Di!” Ellie giggled, stuffing the shirt in her bag.
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The next morning at breakfast, Joel was complaining about his back as usual and your thighs were absolutely killing you. Joel hadn’t even noticed the shirt his kid was wearing when she came through the front door with Dina in tow.
“Hey kiddo, how was your night?” Joel asked his daughter as she kissed his cheek and gave him a side hug.
“Pretty good. Although, Dina and I stopped by at like midnight or so and we found yours and moms uh..”
“Oh god.” You and Joel both said out loud at the same time.
“It’s cool you guys! We just thought it was super fucking funny!” Ellie said with a grin as she stuffed her face with fresh pancakes.
Joel scrubbed a hand over his face with a deep sigh before taking a long sip of his coffee. His eyes narrowed in on his kid’s shirt and he nearly choked on his sip of coffee. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“Oh, this? Mom got it for me!” Ellie proudly stated.
Joel looked between his daughter, and you before he smiled over the rim of his mug. “Yeah? Well, I think your mom is gonna have to get your old man one as well.”
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