#Start Menu Features
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justnshalom · 13 days ago
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Windows 11: Missing Features from Windows 10
Take care before moving to Windows 11, as you may lose access to some familiar features from Windows 10. Here’s a detailed list of features from Windows 10 that users commonly feel are missing or changed for the worse in Windows 11: Taskbar Changes: Taskbar Customization: Drag-and-drop to the taskbar is missing. You cannot move the taskbar to the top, left, or right of the screen as it is fixed…
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bootyful-seventeen · 9 months ago
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YALL I GOT A DVD PLAYER AT WALMART AN HOUR AGO AND STARTED CRYING WHEN I POPPED IN THE BARBIE IN RAPUNZEL DVD
#oMFG I REALLY GOT HIT HARD WITH THE NOSTALGIA JUST FROM THE GOD DAMN DVD MENU 😭😭😭😭#also picked up a few movies while I was there cuz that 10$ and under bin was calling my name omfg#but the old Barbie movies were hitting so hard on just the dvd menus alone I’m so excited!!!!#even popped in Barbie nutcracker cuz I forgot how it opened and I just ughhhhhhhh they were geniuses for putting stage curtains up#and I am so gonna be going back again soon cuz I saw they had a Scooby foo collection and TMNT COLLECTION TOO#LIKE BRUHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVED WATCHING THAT ON YTV BACK IN THE DAY#my god I am never gonna ever want to leave my room once the movie collection starts to grow#and they had some collections in that bin too I was losing my shit#it was hard choosing between taking home the Batman collection and the cluesless mean girls and she’s the man feature collection#but I’ll come back again for mean girls cuz they had a few copies in that bin#my god I am going to be such an irritating person talking to people about my dvds lmao#and it’s gonna get even worse when my second copy of happily ever after comes in cuz my old one was so fucking scratched it would skip#well more like freeze and then skip at the scene where the evil queen’s brother is trying to kill Snow White by turning her into stone#and I’m def gonna be looking up more dvd discount stores in my area to find more dvds for the things I’ve liked#maybe if I’m lucky I’ll come across a movie that’s out of print!!!!!
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wackypomo2003 · 3 months ago
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youtube
#mp3#this makes me really teary eyed#it plays at the start of the film and it's the last song to play in the end credits....#and its so somber . it just reminds me that the film is over and there's nothing else afterwards .#leaving me to just restart the film again and again and again#idk it just reminds me that this movie is such an underrated gem and deserves some more recognition and it makes me sad!!#i remember reading somewhere that there were plans for a tv show but it (assumbly) never made it past the devlopment stage#...mainly because the movie bombed at the box office when it was released but i would've loved this!!!!!#the characters were so endearing to me and it would've been cool to see their personalities being explored even more .#also randomly found out that the contents for some of the dvds are drastically different from each other .#the european versions of the dvds have a lot of bonus features and the menu screen has a lot personality put into it#but here in the states we basically got....Nothing .like its so bland . the only two options are to play the movie or to select a scene .#i think it kind of puts it into perspective on how whoever was in charge of distribution for the film in the states just did not care .#it also shows in the cover art they choose for the us dvd like omg .#ok now i'm just rambling in the tags . sorry .#this is what happens when u grow up watching an obscure film repeatedly as a young child#my love for this film was recently rekindled and watching it again just reminded me of how much i really love it .
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marsbotz · 4 months ago
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found a rlly fucking epic app earlier that has solitare and water sorter and chess andddddd minesweeper and a bunch of shit on it. FOR FREE and works offline. this is the kinda shit im on btw
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valwrote · 6 months ago
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PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒
WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?
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featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.
synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.
warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)
a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.
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DILUC 🍷
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PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 
He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.
One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?
That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.
“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.
If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.
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ALHAITHAM 🌱
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PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.
Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?
Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.
“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.
“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.
This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.
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ZHONGLI 🪨
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PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.
"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."
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WRIOTHESLEY 🐺
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PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.
"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.
“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 
He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…
[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.
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NEUVILLETTE 🌊
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PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.
Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.
“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 
“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.
Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.
He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.
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a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??
don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.
©definitelysel
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shrenvents · 8 months ago
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Spellbound
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Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, cunnilingus, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader
Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.
Word count: 2.7k
...
Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.
She was his newest fascination.
He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.
He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.
“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”
“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.
Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...
Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...
Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.
“Where are we headed this time darling?”
“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.
“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.
“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”
“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”
“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus went quiet. You watched as his expression goes blank, before he acts as though he was in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”
“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.
“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”
“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”
The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”
He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.
“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”
After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.
That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.
Like any other day, your conscious is eating away at you, as you call upon another ancestor of those he plagues. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours, as you questioned his late brother through the veil.
“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes dart to yours, and his angry appearance softens. Instinctively, he grips your forearm and drags you out of the motel room.
“Love, what’s wrong?”
“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.
Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, let your guard down, and close your eyes. Such an urge that has only worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together…
“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."
Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”
After five minutes alone in a booth, you gather up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, heading back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you think. But you can’t help it.
When you enter the room, the door slowly creaks shut, and shadows engulf you. It’s too quiet, and you can’t see the hostage. Unease fills your system, and you begin to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off, when the captive grabs your torso, roughly caging your arms. His grip is inescapable, and when you try to scream, his free hand covers your mouth.
“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs with disgust, and you wince. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackles with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”
While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggle against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.
He muffles Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears prick your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.
The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carry you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.
His figure then disappears just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.
After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'
“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.
He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”
You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you, I’d probably be dead by now.”
“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”
“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”
“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.
“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You start to laugh too.
“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voices, airily. "I gave you my word.”
“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”
You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”
“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.
“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”
You freeze, heart dropping.
“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.
He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's most likely playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.
“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”
Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.
Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and palms your ass.
Continuously rolling your body into him, makes you feel his arousal, causing a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth runs down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.
“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”
“No,” you huff.
“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.
“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to your assailant…
“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him, and rushing out the car.
Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking the door open, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.
As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.
His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands soon make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.
He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus ogles you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.
He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”
“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every which way he could.
You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.
When your lengthy climax finishes, he moves to sigh pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.
“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act is.
“There’s only so much I can do before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”
He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.
Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.
You straddle him, and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.
“You’re too big,” you gasp.
“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“
“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.
“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.
“More,” he just about whines.
“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air abandons your body.
Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.
He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.
After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck.
Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.
“This is only the beginning.”
If you enjoyed this, i'm currently writing a klaus fanfic! it’ll be posted on my wattpad @ shrenvents <33
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spookaburra · 1 year ago
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Tumblr, please, just put the thing back on the other side, I hate this.
How do I get to my likes? Where's the search bar? Where are my drafts? Please.
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bit-b · 1 year ago
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About a trending Discord warning:
TL;DR: Discord is NOT making "Find your friends" enabled by default. You're probably not giving Discord your contact information without your knowledge. Their UI choices just suck.
There's a warning post going around by a person I'm not going to name, as I don't want people to dogpile on them. That is NOT the goal of this post, and if you DO harass anyone because of what I write, then you're a garbage person with garbage habits that needs to throw those habits in the garbage.
Rather, my goal with this post is to educate about a Discord feature that's not being represented properly.
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Supposedly in the new mobile update, Discord added this ""NEW"" feature called "Find your friends", and then they enabled it by default. This feature allows users to use their smartphone contacts to search for their friends on Discord. It also enables others to be able to find you in the exact same way.
Obviously, this would be MASSIVELY dangerous from a privacy perspective.
Imagine if someone had relatives that use Discord. In a scenario like that, those relatives would have an easy way of finding the accounts of family members. And in some home situations, online anonymity from relatives could mean the difference between having an outlet and not having an outlet.
I'm also pretty sure I know some folks with alt accounts (you know who you are). And if Discord was somehow able to cross-reference all your contacts with the Discord accounts you're logged into, that would be DISASTROUSLY EMBARRASSING, to say the least.
So I totally understand how concerning this would be if it turned out to be true.
The thing is, it's not.
The person who made that warning misinterpreted THIS page:
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This is the new "Add Friends" page for the Discord mobile app. Obviously, a page to help you add friends. There's a big 'ol window at the bottom showcasing Discord's "Find your friends" feature.
Now, this feature is actually NOT new. It's been around for a long time. But there's a very subtle change that happened with the new update. Take a look at how "Find your friends" used to look:
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It starts by giving you a banner at the top of your friends list, telling you that this feature is available. Then when you click on it, it takes you to a page with UI elements that look awfully familiar.
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It's pretty clear what happened. In an effort to condense down their friend-finding functions into one menu, Discord took the "Find your friends" setup menu and tossed it in with all the other ways to contact friends.
But by doing this, Discord has made this setup window confusing. It's not immediately obvious if the "Find your friends" feature is ON and running, or OFF and waiting to be activated.
Maybe it would have helped to make the blurple button read something like "Sync contacts" instead of "Find friends". At least then, you could tell at a glance that nothing has been sync'd yet. (Or y'know, maybe just stick to "Grant Permission". That was working just fine before.)
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So it seems the OP:
Looked at the "Find your friends" setup menu that Discord hastily slapped into the "Add friends" page
Noticed the checkbox that read "Allow contacts to add me"
Saw that it was already marked
Then assumed that it must be some kind of tucked-away setting that was left ON by default.
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To make this abundantly clear, "Find your friends" only works if you opt-in.
That checkmark allows you to tell Discord you are okay with people finding you in this manner. Unchecking it makes it possible to use "Find your friends" without others being able to find you the same way.
It doesn't get set up on your device until you press the big blurple "Find friends" button. Even then, you still have to add your phone number to your account and verify it via a 6-digit code sent via SMS.
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After that, you have to give Discord permission to access your contacts via whatever phone OS you use.
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You have to be pretty deliberate for any of these functions to start.
I won't say it's impossible to set it up on accident. It's a strange world, and stranger things have happened. If you want to, go check your app permissions to make sure you don't have contact permissions enabled for Discord. It's always good to be sure. But rest easy knowing that you probably don't have to worry about it.
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In my opinion, I think that anyone who reblogged that warning should consider reversing those reblogs.
Honestly, I also think the OP should just delete their post instead of repeatedly adding amended reblogs to it. At the end of the day, the core of that post was misinformation and misguided assumptions. There's no real reason to keep it up.
Besides, I'd rather pin Discord on things they're ACTUALLY guilty of. Like designing a new UI that's widely mocked. And making things 10x more confusing for the end-user.
Here's Discord's official "Find your friends" FAQ page:
https://support.discord.com/hc/en-us/articles/360061878534-Find-Your-Friends-FAQ
I hate to beg, but I'd appreciate if people would reblog this post. I fear that the warning post is gonna steer a LOT of people to believe a lot of things about Discord that are logically and functionally not true.
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twstowo · 6 months ago
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Their Magicam Accounts[Twst]
♡︎How I think their Magicam Accounts would look and what they do in them.
♡︎This was been catching dust in my drafts for months now. Crazy
♡︎Includes: NRC, RSA and Rollo
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⋆⋅☆Riddle: Owns two accounts on Magicam. The first one is only used to like or comment on posts from friends, Carter set up this account against Riddle’s will. He once accidentally posted a picture of the two of you and had a heart attack trying to delete it. The second account is a secret one where he only posts hedgehog pictures.
⋆⋅☆Trey: Has one account where most of his posts showcase his cakes, including pictures from unbirthday parties and moments of you cooking with him. His profile picture is him with that dog filter, you can’t change my mind.
⋆⋅☆Carter: Literally Owns Magicam, posting pictures every time he does something or is with someone. #Thevoicesarewinning. Comments on every post and totally knows that Riddle owns the hedgehog account. He also has a side account for stalking people. Changes his profile picture daily.
⋆⋅☆Ace: Initially only posted embarrassing pictures of people and would only take them down if they paid him. Got suspended quickly from Magicam. The second account is more relaxed, where he shares random content whenever he feels like it. He’s also the type to edit group pictures to make everyone look bad except himself, just to annoy everyone.
⋆⋅☆Deuce: Was the one who reported Ace’s first account since most pictures were of him. Has Shaky pictures, the best picture he has is one of him, Ace, and you together. Probably uses social media mostly for chatting with friends. Also, he, Ace, and you have one of those quirky couple profile pics.
⋆⋅☆Leona: Owns an account with no posts, profile picture, comments, or followers. Rarely uses Magicam, but he occasionally checks your posts.
⋆⋅☆Ruggie: Uses Magicam for selling stuff. Created a group for selling second-hand items and pins all his stuff to ensure faster sales than everyone else.
⋆⋅☆Jack: Gym pictures? Nah, I feel he’d be too shy for that. Probably has one image that he uses everywhere else just to identify himself.
⋆⋅☆Azul: Opened an account to promote Mostro Lounge, daily posts feature new dishes, prices, menus, and sales. He also has a personal account but doesn’t post (doesn’t think he looks nice in pictures).
⋆⋅☆Jade: Mushroom account, has so many followers who share his fascination. Their conversations are all about their mushroom hikes and can last for hours. Makes really aesthetically pleasing posts filled with detailed information about different types of mushrooms.
⋆⋅☆Floyd: For legal reasons I won’t say why, but his account got suspended after one week of its creation.
⋆⋅☆Kalim: Sends party invitations through Magicam, Jamil had to create a group to prevent Kalim from sending individual invitations constantly. Enjoys capturing pictures of the sky. Once posted a picture of Jamil, after it was deleted, he didn't post anything for a whole month, I wonder what happened.
⋆⋅☆Jamil: Similar to Leona, but he often checks Trey’s account for his cake posts. When he saw a picture of you and Trey together, he invited you over to cook with him but didn’t have the courage to ask for a picture of the two of you.
⋆⋅☆Vil: Posts frequently, sharing about himself and his daily routine, always looking impeccable. Regularly receives barking comments, he spends hours deleting all of them.
⋆⋅☆Rook: We all know he has a fan account for Neige. Likes posts of all the celebrities he adores. Writes extremely lengthy comments whenever he finds someone beautiful. He's been blocked so many times he's lost count.
⋆⋅☆Epel: Initially tried taking cute pictures following Vil’s advice but got annoyed as he looked too feminine. Instead, he started promoting stuff from his farm back home.
⋆⋅☆Idia: Uses an account with a weird name to hide his identity, posts about games and occasional activities. Engages in lengthy debates with anyone who disagrees with his new hyperfixation. Has a different notification ring for your posts.
⋆⋅☆Ortho: Shares many pictures of you and him and others doing silly things, sometimes posts gossips and causes huge scandals with them, to the point he decided to create an account with only gossip info. (Azul is literally taking notes.)
⋆⋅☆Malleus: This man owns a Nokia 3310.
⋆⋅☆Lilia: Creates posts about the Doramas he watches, managing a fan page to discuss them with others. Shares pictures of Silver, Sebek, and Malleus, although the latter two get embarrassed, leading Lilia to take down their pictures.
⋆⋅☆Silver: Posts images of nature and cute animals. There's only one picture of him – you took it while he was sleeping and posted it. He didn't have the heart to delete it, knowing it was you.
⋆⋅☆Sebek: Shaky hands #2. Takes pictures of his paintings of Malleus; if you scroll long enough, you might see an accidentally posted painting of you.
⋆⋅☆Che’nya: Shares pictures of people's scared faces, taken while invisible when the flash goes off.
⋆⋅☆Neige: Lost track of his posts; like Vil, he has many followers. Captures moments with the dwarfs and shares funny stories about his day in every picture.
⋆⋅☆Rollo: Has one account filled with pictures of Fleur City. His profile picture used to be a croissant, but he removed it since it looked dumb. He was blocked every magic user, except for you. Yet.
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tired-biscuit · 8 months ago
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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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ozzgin · 1 year ago
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Pyramid Head x Reader
Featuring Pyramid Head and a reader with amnesia lost in Silent Hill. This is Pyramid Head as originally intended for Silent Hill 2, so expect a lot of game-based immersion. Warning: NSFW, dubious/non-consent, violence, gore
[Horror Masterlist]
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"Oh, for fuck's sake!"
You grunt and slap the wheel, hoping your defiant act of violence will somehow convince the car engine to start again. It remains quiet. You run a hand through your hair and sigh. The palm is mildly sticky with moisture and you realize you've been sweating a fair amount. No wonder, you're stuck in this shithole. You couldn't see a damn thing ahead with all this fog. The only discernible object was a rusty, run-down sign showing "Silent Hill". You've never heard the name before, but reading the letters and allowing the words to escape your lips has brought you an unexpected wave of panic. You quickly began hyperventilating and your arms involuntarily twitched and twisted, pulling the wheel of the car along with them and causing the car to swerve into a street barrier. And now it refuses to turn back on. Fantastic. 
You hesitantly grab the door handle. After a deep breath in, you open the door and step out. Given the car crashed sideways, you can no longer tell which way is back and which way is forward. You can only see the first few inches of the barrier in both directions, but everything else vanishes under the thick clouds of mist. You rub your temples, becoming increasingly upset with yourself.  What were you even doing, driving all the way to-
Wait. Where were you going in the first place? You recall leaving from...home? But where is that supposed to be? No, don't do this. Not now. You walk back to the car and open the glove compartment, angrily pulling out a thick stack of documents and spreading them out onto the chair. You scan over them, growing more impatient. You don't recognize anything. The names and words and addresses don't hold any meaning. You glance up to the rear-view mirror in an attempt to detect some trail of blood seeping from your scalp, as a concussion might explain your sudden memory loss, but your appearance is fresh. Almost as if you didn't just crash your car in a strange place in utter confusion. 
You check your phone. Even if you can't remember, there has to be someone in your contacts that will come to your aid. The screen glitches briefly when you unlock it and the menu is empty. No contacts, no messages, no apps. No matter, emergency will do. You type in the digits and lift the phone to your head, but quickly remove it when loud static assaults your eardrums. Why is nothing working properly? You're tempted to just slam the junk into the pavement, but find enough composure to stuff it back in the pocket for now. 
All that's left to do now is to find another human. You begin walking. The road has to lead somewhere, that's for certain. And soon enough the barrier is replaced with a different kind of fencing that you use as guidance. It seems to be a small bridge. Just a few steps further and you discover the first signs of modern, populated world: a bus stop. Behind the waiting bench is a brief map of the area and you trace the plaque with your fingers, mumbling the path to yourself. "Now let's see...This is Nathan Avenue...Rosewater Park ahead...Ah, the Silent Hill Fire Station should be very close."
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You can't wait to be done with this mess. They'll call for a tow truck and get you out of here. You almost sprint to the next block, expectantly. In fact, you can already spot someone right outside the building. 
"Thank God! Listen, my car broke down before the bridge. My stupid phone is also...huh." 
Just as you mention it, the same static as previously erupts from the speaker. You're startled and fumble for your phone. You're about to apologize to the person in front of you, but upon lifting your gaze you instantly stop in your tracks. 
'Person' is a strong word for it. It resembles one, or maybe it was one long ago. What's crawling towards you, however, is not how you'd define it. The arms are melted into the torso, mimicking a straight jacket of skin. The bony, crooked legs are dragging themselves in an unnatural, unnerving way. The creature has no face, save for a gaping hole, a bizarre cavity deforming what should be a head. Your mouth grimaces with disgust, followed by fear. Terror. You have the choice of returning to your damaged car, or attempting to find actual help deeper into the town. You run ahead, praying that someone's out there. The dissonant sound of a siren can be heard, diffused into the persistent fog.  
By the time you reach the next building, you're gasping for air. You didn't expect to run this far. You went all the way around Toluca lake, avoiding the side streets. The center was swarming with those abominations. Each turn and each corner would eventually reveal its revolting murmur, that pathetic shuffle of disfigured limbs. Thankfully they're not fast, nor smart. A little distance and they lose their interest to pursue you. You fall against the brick wall of this small house and read the poster. "Silent Hill Historical Society". Doesn't look too promising, but it's surprisingly devoid of any monstrous being. At this point you'd be more grateful for emptiness. It's safer. 
You tiptoe your way in, wary of potential attackers. There's a faint buzz echoing from afar, but other than that no immediate danger. You examine the lobby and notice the paintings and old photos hanging from the decaying wallpaper. It smells slightly rotten. One of the art pieces catches your attention and you stop in front of it. "Misty Day, Remains of Judgement". 
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The abstract character depicted on canvas reminds you of an executioner. The more you stare, the clearer you can feel some kind of guilt knotting inside your stomach. Your shoulders are heavy and you're overwhelmed by the same anxiety of a child about to be punished. Awaiting the belt. The calloused hand of an unforgiving father. Your throat is dry.
Your musings are interrupted by the static that - as you've since learned - warns you of approaching creatures. The rooms are cramped and the walls are narrow and you dislike the idea of calculating your escape within this claustrophobic maze, but it's preferable to being dead. You jog along slithering paths, unsure of where they lead. The threatening turbulence of your phone goes up and down, like a sine wave, with each turn into uncharted territory. In your frantic efforts to flee you don't see the large hole blocking your way, or at least not fast enough. By the time you figure out the outlines of this pitch black well, you're flooded with the light sensation of gravitational force, stretching and compressing your innards as you fall. Is this how you end?
It's not so easy. 
As soon as you open your eyes, a burning pain metastasizes through the head, digging deep into your brain. You grab onto your scalp and press your fingers over the skin, hoping for a small relief. In your debilitating migraine you don't hear the agitated flutter of limbs. They're minuscule, but so many. Thousands of sclerotized joints frothing around your limp form. You lift yourself off the rusted ground and yelp voiceless at the sight. Cockroaches. The pile of vermin lets out a deafening, high pitched screech with every movement. You drag your elbows in an attempt to get away, but the creepers almost ignore your existence. They seem to be running away from something, retreating in masses.
You don't have to wait long in order to witness their source of fear. Heavy footsteps, muffled by the grating friction of metal against metal. A corroded stench invades your lungs and you cough. Whatever is coming has instilled the utmost dread in your very bones. You want to get up and run, until your legs give up and your body collapses of exhaustion, but your limbs are petrified in panic. Your chest constricts and throbs, as if your heart is trashing to escape this prison condemned to unknown doom. 
Finally, the fiend comes into view. A tall, large man wearing a leather apron layered with grime and encrusted blood. His skin is scarred and discolored, and a bulky, dense pyramid structure rests on his broad shoulders, concealing his face. He seems to be dragging along a great knife of sorts, although on closer inspection it looks like a halved pair of oversized scissors. The edge is dulled and has splattered visceral leftovers mattifying its surface. You remember the painting you've seen upstairs. Is this what it is? Your Retribution? 
You lower yourself until your forehead touches the rusty floor. Like an animal awaiting to receive the final blow from its hunter, like a prisoner resigning to his fate under the guillotine. If only matters could be dealt with so simply! Your neck is clawed into a tight hold by the large gloved hand and you're crudely pulled back up so that you can properly face your Punisher. There's a vague grunt coming from underneath his bizarre helmet. 
He carries you to the nearest wall and slams you against it. The great knife drops to the floor with a loud crash, and the other hand, now freed, begins to search your lower clothing. You can feel the seams of the garments tear and snap with no resistance. You want to vocalize a protest, but your throat is crushed under the forceful pressure of his clasp. At best, you can exhale in what sounds like a whispered wail. His apron is nonchalantly flipped to the side and your thigh lifted over his forearm, so that his hand can adjust itself securely under your bottom for support.
Abruptly, a prickling ache crosses your entire body as if you've just been split in two. Tears automatically begin forming in the corner of your eyes and spill down your cheeks and over the pyramid that's now pressing tightly against your quivering form. It's too big and you want to push away, but with each renewed plunge you grow weaker. The small tears and rips that blossom around your abused intimacy turn into bleeding wounds. You want to sleep. 
A creature of pure instinct, serving as a reminder of human perversions and immoral desires. Travesty, corruption, sin. And what about it? Before you know it, a small moan escapes your dried lips. You throw your arms around your captor's shoulders. The sharp edges of the helmet scratch your skin, waking you back into consciousness. Your lower muscles start to relax around the massive member and allow for a smoother glide in and out. The numbness is gradually replaced by pleasant sensations. The throbbing reverberates inside your abdomen and your other leg wraps around the creature's hips, asking for more contact. Once your compliance is confirmed, the hand pinning you by the neck wanders to other parts of your body in starved desperation. Your voice returns and more lewd whines roll out one after another. If only you had a mirror so you could look at yourself in this moment. What shameless expressions are you wearing on your face? You're clinging to your violator in feverish depravity. And in return, the creature responds to your cravings with increased intensity. He seems to resonate with your wishes and stiffens his hold on you with newfound obsession. His thrusts become almost feral, with a certain possessiveness to it. 
As you're about to reach your peaks, your mind once again travels to the painting. You wonder if you'd be hung and framed just like the prisoners behind their executioner. Pleasure mixed with guilt. 
What sin is eroding your entrails? 
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creature-once-removed · 2 years ago
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lex-the-flex · 3 months ago
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Soured Whiskey
Logan Howlett x reader
Summary: Your one night stand with a handsome stranger at the bar leads to a different endeavor.
Word Count: 2k
Warning(s): HEAVY ANGST, brief cursing, small moments of action and violence, brief drinking, Logan being protective, MEGA FLUFF, SMUT 18+ – Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral (f! receiving), fingering, skin + body appreciation, Logan being a gentleman and the reader being lovely. (Basically distant soulmates).
A/N: I'm officially seeing Deadpool and Wolverine tomorrow and I'm so excited! But in the meantime, I thought I'd add to the pile of Wolverine smut.
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Strings of ornately hung light bulbs decorate the bar, bringing a cozy old-school vibe to the modernized saloon. Closing the door behind you, the cold city atmosphere was instantly transformed into a quaint and warm invitation. You’re friends couldn’t stop raving about this new bar and that you all just had to go here and try the endless menu of cocktails and tapas. 
So through your busy work week, your friends informed you to meet at the bar on Friday once the sun started to go down. But much to your dismay, your friends bailed on you, even after repaying that they’d be there for you and help you unwind, to de-stress.
You got stood up. By your own good friends who you thought had your back. 
Sighing to yourself, it was too late to give up now. You were already here, so you might as well order a drink. 
Sitting at the bar, you sat up straight on the stool, not paying attention to who was sitting next to you. It didn’t matter. Patiently waiting for the bartender, the sight of someone sitting next to you crosses your peripheral vision. The man’s muscular arms lean against the counter, reaching for a couple of fresh cashews. 
“Hey there, what can I get you?” The bartender asks. 
“Just a whiskey sour, please.” You reply. 
“Got it, and same for you, sir?” He questions, pushing a singular whiskey glass to the person to your right. 
“Yeah, thanks.” The stranger replies. 
The stranger’s gruff voice takes you by surprise, but you pay him no mind. 
Rolling the coaster in between his fingers, the bartender places your bright whiskey sour in front of you. The refreshing yellow foamy drink is adorned with a lemon swirl and a dried cherry for garnish. Just the sight of it makes a well-deserved smile rise through your lips. Taking a sip of the cold drink, the bartender turns to the back wall with the more expensive bottles of liquor, and passes it to the stranger on your right. 
Getting a glimpse his way, the man finally comes into view. His masculine features take over your attention; the man’s full dark head of hair, beard, and strong jaw seem to put you in a hypnotic state. Glancing towards you, his light hazel eyes gaze into your e/c orbs, providing a somewhat welcoming gaze, however his stern and annoyed expression makes you turn away. 
Returning to your drink, the stranger lowers his arm next to yours, letting you see a freshly lit cigar in his hand. Blowing the smoke away from you, he silently watches you take another swig of your drink before checking the empty text message bubble once again. 
“Rough day?” He asks. 
Sighing into your hands, you jokingly squint your eyes at the stranger, and set your phone down.
“You have no idea. I‘be been craving this damn drink all day.” You reply.
Running your index finger around the rim of the almost empty glass. Smirking, the stranger raises his glass towards yours. 
“Name’s Logan.” He says. 
“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you Logan.” You answer, clinking your glass with his. 
Finishing your drinks and dinner in a comfortable silence, Logan silently watches you, observing some of your mannerisms that stand out to him. The way you sit perfectly straight, how you wipe your mouth after every bite, and even the outfit you picked for yourself. Your light grey cardigan sits perfectly on your shoulders along with the casual white button-up shirt that was underneath it. The pair of black dress pants and ankle boots make you look professional yet comfortable and he liked that. 
However, this minuscule moment of peace didn’t last long. The scent of strong liquor and the hint of douchebag lingers in the air behind you and Logan. Taking another puff of his cigar, Logan glances your way, warning you to not pay these drunken idiots any attention. 
Polishing off the remainder of your drink, Logan waves for the bartender, and prepares to take your tab. 
“I got it, Logan. Don’t worry about me.” You advise. 
Placing his hand over yours, Logan stops you from using your debit card, motioning to the three men behind you. 
“That’s not what I’m worried about, darlin’.” He warns. 
“You shouldn’t worry about her, man. We can take care of her. We’ll take her off your hands.” One of the drunk men sneers. 
“No thanks, boys. I’m happy where I stand.” You state, looking at Logan, rubbing your fingers over his knuckles. 
Joining you and Logan, the bartender slams his hands on the counter. 
“I told the three of you that you’re not allowed in here! Get out before there’s trouble.” He orders.
“Or what, man? What will you do? We’ve been coming here since… this place opened.” The idiot spurs, stuttering to give a clear answer. 
Blowing off his friends, the young man stumbles to your left side, slipping on the way to nonchalantly lean on the bar, still desperate to impress you. Ignoring him, Logan watches the other two men leave the bar altogether, clearly done with their friend’s shit. 
“Lemme take you out and show you a good time, beautiful. Surely I can do better than the guy on your right. I know I can fuck you better than him.” He explains. 
Not noticing that he’s crossed your personal space line, you instinctively back up into Logan, who’s nearly at his breaking point. 
“Look, bub. She said no. So, take the hint and get the hell out of here. She’s with me.” Logan rebuttals, just as a wave of rage overtakes his voice. 
The sudden sense of feeling claustrophobic creeps out on every single inch of your skin. Glancing down at your hands, you discover that you’re now white-knuckling the edge of the wooden countertop, and Logan begins to ball his fist around his whiskey glass. 
Leaning closer to you, the young man tries once again, and fully crosses the line. 
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me treat you better.” He whispers next to your face. 
Suddenly, you see red. The stranger’s hand touches your mid thigh and you merely fly back on the barstool. 
“Get the fuck off me!” You shout, pushing the man away. 
Within seconds, Logan pushes himself from his own seat, and grabs the young man by his hoodie. Punching the man in the face, he falls to the floor with a streak of blood leaking out of his nose. Wiping his nose, the bartender manages to pull Logan away, before returning to tend to the young man. Tugging Logan closer, he subconsciously wraps his arms around your frame, making sure that you’re out of harm's way. 
“You alright?” He asks in a low whisper.
Silently nodding, the two of you refuse to move, and your hand is still lingering on his chest.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You answer.
*****
Within seconds of shutting your front door behind you, Logan was on you. Deepening the kiss between you both, you could tell that he wanted more. Pushing you against the door, a growl escapes from Logan as he picks you up and walks into the kitchen. Placing you on the marble countertop, his hands work quickly to rid you of the cardigan on your shoulders.
Gliding his lips down to your neck, you wrap your legs around Logan’s waist. Feeling a small moan escape from your lips, you swore that he might fuck you on the cold countertop. But he wasn’t that rebellious. Tearing his own jacket off, Logan carefully carries you through the apartment and down the hallway to your bedroom.
Sitting you down on the edge of your bed, he momentarily breaks the space between you and lifts your shirt from your body. Tossing it across the room, Logan bends down and takes your face in his hands.
“You sure you want this, darlin’? I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.” Logan advises, gently stroking your cheek.
“I’m sure. I want this with you. And only you.” You consent with a nod. 
Silently nodding, Logan slowly leans in and pulls you in passionately. His kiss is slow and steady, allowing him to relax at this moment. Feeling his heart swell, Logan couldn’t remember the last time someone wanted him in the way that you do.
Discarding the remainder of both of your clothes, you lay down on the comforter, melting into the soft fabric and Logan follows suit. Gripping his broad shoulders, your fingers press into his hot skin as his lips lock onto yours. Trailing his hand down your bare body, Logan’s fingers reach beneath the waistband of your lacy underwear and press against your clit.
Meeting your throbbing folds with his fingertips, you break the kiss and moan into his mouth. Staring into his hazel eyes, his orbs light up, fueling the sensation of your lust. Rubbing circles into your clit, Logan descends your body with a series of longing kisses to each part he passes.
Discarding the fabric from your core, Logan kisses the sensitive skin of each of your thighs, feeling you shake before him. His scruff makes you chuckle as he can hear your heartbeat ringing in his ears. Licking your folds, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you watch Logan become more and more mesmerized by you.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N…” He whispers in the dark.
Connecting his lips with your clit, a moan escapes from your lips. Pushing his tongue past your entrance, Logan holds your hips in place to keep you from squirming. Gripping the thin comforter, you squeeze your eyes shut, unable to handle the heat rising in your face.
Watching you from afar, Logan continues to eat you out in a steady fashion, letting you enjoy the moment. Running your fingers through his thick hair, you can feel a butterfly sensation rising up to your core. Sensing your body working with his, Logan gently squeezes your hips, lifting you just a touch. Tasting your orgasm reaching its end, your toes curl against the bedding and you cum against Logan’s tongue.
Gasping for air, Logan crawls before you, and his entire physique comes to life. His strong muscles and veins don’t frighten you like so many others, but here everything about him brings you comfort. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Logan balances himself over you, still making sure this is what you want.
“I want you, Logan. All of you, I trust you.” You declare, wrapping your arms around him.
Your vow brings the thought of tears to his tortured eyes, knowing that he has truly deserved this moment.
Lovingly holding his face, Logan briefly touches the tip of your nose with his.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He responds.
“You won’t.” You advise him.
Leaning his forehead against yours, Logan rubs the tip of his cock in time with your folds, sending excitement through his veins. Sliding himself past your entrance, the two of you look at each other, sharing a loving moan. Thrusting his hips together, Logan longs to be deep inside you. He wanted to forget about the world and get lost in you.
Burying his face in your neck, Logan leaves no space between the two of you. Moving in time with his loving thrusts, the sensation of Logan’s manhood against your walls felt like a new stress reliever that you didn’t know you needed. Surrendering to this new wave of euphoria, your fingers run along the strong muscles along Logan’s back, touching the flexing fibers beneath his hot skin. Sinking deeper into you, Logan finds your sensitive spot, causing you to aggressively scratch his back. 
Clutching the back of his head, the new scars heal within seconds, whilst Logan slightly groans from the light ripple of pain. A burning sensation of heat starts to rise in your core, you could no longer handle the tension, and Logan continues to ride out the remainder of your orgasm in pure awe of you. Gasping for air, Logan surrounds his arms around your body, and rolls the two of you on your sides. 
Pressing his forehead on yours, Logan’s warmth cascades over you, giving you a blanket of warmth in the cool room. Shifting in his arms, he gently runs his fingers through your hair, just as you trace his dimples. 
“Well, thank you for a very interesting night, Logan.” You whisper. 
Smiling, the two of you share a loving laugh together, and Logan pulls the comforter over you, succumbing to the warmth beneath the blanket. 
wolverine taglist ~
@dreamliners
@miss1sarcasmo
@yellow-eyed-sams-wife
@lost-in-horrorland
@peterparkernotfound
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withwritersblock · 8 days ago
Text
Am I Okay?
~Am I Okay? Megan Moroney~
Author's Note: Requested! I rewrote this like six times and I don't really vibe with it but I hope yall enjoy it! Am I posting this at midnight yes do I care a little bit but oh well Summary: Y/N and Luke fall in love Warnings: smut! smut! smut! MDNI!! swearing Word Count: 9,059 Luke Hughes x fm!reader
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It was still dark outside but it usually was when she first got to work. The early morning shift was her favorite to work. Opening the coffee shop at six in the morning alone was her favorite part of the day. The sunrise always managed to shine through the windows. The pink and blue hues were breathtaking. 
It was usually quiet in the mornings, for the first hour and a half she would see maybe eight customers total. After eight in the morning, she would see thirty customers in an hour. But the first two hours she would be alone and she preferred it that way. 
The eight customers that would come in at that time were all the same, always on the walk towards their jobs. Specifically one guy who would always walk in few minutes after they opened. He showed up nearly every day that he was in town, always got a basic coffee he could probably make in his apartment but the fifteen dollar tip was enough to not question it. 
The playlist she put on was catered to her own music taste, her co-worker that usually shows up at eight changes it to the usuall coffee shop eroma. 
She poured the espresso shots into the iced plastic cup in front of her. She finished her latte with whole milk and carmel syrup. The small set of chims near the door rang and she spun around to see her regular Jack walking inside. His head covered in a black beanie and his usual long black coat. 
“Good morning Jack,” she said with a soft smile on her lips. He grinned widely as he glanced behind him before he walked up to the register. 
“Morning, Y/N,” he said as he looked up towards the menu pretending to search for something else to order. He always got the same drink. 
“The usual?” she asked as she started tapping on the Ipad. The chims went off as another man walked into the shop. She lifted her gaze and her heart jumped into her throat.
“Yeah and whatever my little brother is gonna get,” Jack expressed, looking behind him to see his little brother entering the shop. 
She met his eyes, they were tired as it was not for the weak to be out on the town this early. His lips curled upward as he met her gaze. His curly hair was hidden by a backwards hat. He walked up towards the counter and it was getting harder and harder to breathe for her. 
“Lukey, this is Y/N,” Jack said, pulling her attention back towards him. Swallowing hard, she realized that she needed to breathe because she was not sure if she was actually doing it or not. Luke nodded as he pressed his lips together as he looked up towards the menu.
Y/N scanned his features, he was tall and the soft smile on his lips was intoxicating. It was too early in the morning for her to feel dizzy. Her gaze looked down towards the Ipad, trying not to stare at him too long.
“Do you have anything that’s not coffee?” Luke asked shyly. Jack chuckled while rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms over his chest. 
She fought off a smirk forming to her lips, she glanced behind her towards the menu. “We have hot chocolate,” she mumbled. Luke’s smile widened. He squinted his eyes for a moment.
“I guess I’ll take a hot chocolate,” he said as he dragged his hand across his chin. Jack rolled his eyes as he handed Y/N his card. She finished putting in their orders and she completed the order. She spun the Ipad for the tip screen as she walked away from it to start making their drinks.
“Fucking, really?” Jack teased as he shoved Luke away. Luke chuckled as he shook his head. 
“I don’t drink coffee, asshole,” Luke muttered as they both stood awkwardly in the center of the shop. Y/N smiled to herself as she began to pour the coffee into the to go cup. After another minute Jack’s coffee was done and so was Luke’s hot chocolate. 
She placed the cups onto the counter, “How long are you visiting Jack?” she asked softly as she looked up and met Luke’s gaze. Luke’s cheeks flushed red as he glanced towards Jack.
“He’s playing his first game with the Devils in a few days,” Jack said proudly. Her eyes widened as she met Jack’s gaze for a moment before she looked back towards Luke.
“That’s awesome, I forget this hockey thing is a family thing,” she let out shortly as she tried to find the words. The boys chuckled, Luke brought his hot chocolate towards his lips and took a small sip.
“You should watch it,” Jack teased as he patted his hand against Luke’s shoulder. Luke turned his head and met her gaze, he smiled softly as he dropped his gaze towards the floor.
“I’ll think about it,” she mumbled as she watched the pair leave the coffee shop. Spinning around, she leaned against the counter, widening her eyes. “Oh my god,” she muttered barely above a whisper.
~~~
She returned to her on-campus apartment after shift. Her twin brother and roommate Ashton was sitting on the couch with his computer in his lap. Glancing towards her, he didn’t say anything beside waving towards her. He leaned forward mouthing something he was reading.
She pulled her coat from her frame and hung it near the front door. Stepping further into the apartment, Ashton glanced towards her. He took note of the smile on her face. It was always hit or miss on her mood after coming home from work. But she never had a smile on her face paired with silence. Usually she steps into the apartment and starts talking instantly.
There was a soft hum falling from her lips as she headed towards her bedroom. Ashton placed his computer beside him as he followed towards her suspiciously. She stood in her room humming a song as she was collecting a new outfit to change into after her shower. Ashton stood in the doorway watching her. 
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. Turning around, she jumped.
“Damn, Ash, you can’t just sneak up to someone like that,” she said while shaking her head. Raising her hands up she took a hold of her hair and pulled it from the updo she had.
“Why are you smiling like that?” he pressed as he continued to scan her features. She shook her head as she fought off a grin. “You’re face is doing something weird,” he pointed his finger towards her face. She smacked his hand away from her face as she let out a chuckle. She took in a deep breath as she rolled her eyes. His eyes widened as his mouth fell open, “Oh,” he let out knowingly.
“Oh, what?” she asked while crossing her arms over her chest, the grin still toying to her lips.
He nodded as he started walking backwards slowly, “No, I get it,” he said omniously.
“What?” she let out, a chuckle leaving her throat.
“Did you meet someone interesting today?” Ashton teased as he was still stepping backwards.
“Please leave,” she said as she giggled. Ashton threw his head back leaving as he headed down the hall towards the living room. Y/N shut the door as she turned around taking in a shaky breath. 
She pulled her phone from her pocket to look up his Instagram, if it was public what was the harm in that? Jack followed her on Instagram, which was not entirely strange as she has her own social media presence. She was a popular Tiktoker that had a decent following on Instagram too. So his fans did not find it weird that he was following her. 
She opened Luke’s Instagram and smiled towards the most recent photo set. It was his goodbye to UMich, she smiled to herself as she continued to look through the photo set.
~~~
A few days later, she was sitting in the living room with her brother and his friends watching the Devils game. Usually, she would only sit in if the game was a playoff game. Her brother was more into football until he met his college friends. They all would come over to watch the games. Which was nearly every night.
She sat on the floor, a blanket practically submerging her frame. Her brother and his four friends were tipsy and the game hadn’t even started yet. Despite it being a Tuesday, they felt that it was important for them to drink. 
Ashton knew that Jack was a regular at Y/N’s job and he always teased her about him. But she always brushed it off because she didn’t see him like that. But Luke on the other hand, she has not stopped thinking about him since she met him the other morning.
“Y/N, any reason you’re joining us tonight?” Ashton teased as he pulled the blanket from her head. She huffed as she took a hold of it and covered her head again.
“Got nothing better to do,” she mumbled.
“You sure it’s got nothing to do with-”
“Ashton,” she scolded as she smacked his shoulder. The boys erupted in ooooohs and she sunk deeper into the blanket. 
“What about that regular of yours?” Ashton further teased as he stood up from the floor to avoid getting hit again. The boys started yelling again as the first period was starting for the Devils.
“Ash, let it go!” she let out while laughing. 
“Jack Hughes is a regular at her coffee shop,” he let out as he ran away towards the kitchen, for protection. 
“Shut the fuck up!” Ashton’s best friend Logan said loudly.  The boys all cheered as if a goal was just scored.
Y/N planted her face into her hands, her face flushing. She lifted her head towards the screen to see the broadcast showing Luke on the bench. She dropped her gaze back into her hands. 
“If I tell you, will you leave it alone?” she said as her face was still in her hands. They all cheer loudly together. Ashton jogged back towards the couch and sat on the floor beside his sister. She took in a deep breath as she tilted her head back. “I met Luke Hughes, that’s all,” she let out barely above a whisper. They erupted in oooohs again and she sunk her head into her hands. “That’s all, I swear!” she mumbled against her hands.
“I fucking knew it,” Ashton said as tapped his hand against her shoulder.
“Can we just watch the game?” she questioned pointing towards the screen, just at the point when Luke appeared on the screen. They all started laughing.
“This is going to be fun,” Ashton teased.
~~~
She did not see Luke or Jack for several months after that. It was playoffs and Luke most likely went back to Michigan since he was not eligible to play. The last playoff run, Jack didn’t come into the coffee shop once. It was probably because he was sleeping in to get as much rest as possible.
But she was in a new school year, with the same hours. She would work from six in the morning to noon and have afternoon classes after that. She was always busy but it was better than over thinking. 
For the first time in months, the chims went off and she spun around to see Jack and Luke trailing behind him. She clenched her jaw to avoid showing a wide toothy grin. A little crush was not going to get in the way of her favorite regular. Jack was always super kind and an amazing way to start the day. She refused to let her little crush on his little brother change that.
Until he smiled a sleepy grin towards her. Suddenly her plan backfired and she grinned towards them.
“Welcome back boys,” she muttered while walking towards the register. Forcing her gaze towards Jack, she saw a smirk on his lips. Ignoring it, she started typing in Jack’s usual. 
“How have you you been?” Jack asked crossing his arms over his chest. She lifted her gaze, not really used to being asked that question.
“I’ve been good, I worked doubles all summer so I’m happy to be back on my normal schedule,” she explained glancing towards Luke. He hasn’t wavered his gaze from the moment he stepped into the shop. Jack nodded while glancing towards Luke, he rolled his eyes playfully.
“You gonna order or just stare at her?” Jack teased as he punched Luke’s arm. Luke chuckled as he rubbed the spot Jack hit. She pursed her lips forward as she met Luke’s gaze for the third time in a matter of two minutes.
“Right, yeah, I’ll take a-” he trailed off as his eyes scanned the menu, “Lemonade,” he mumbled. Jack rolled his eyes while pulling out his wallet. 
She grinned as she typed it into the Ipad before she spun it towards Jack, a new pay system was put into place over the summer.
“So, is this a new thing? You’re here for good?” she asked as she started pouring Jack’s coffee. 
“Hopefully, got to make it through training camp and pre-season,” Luke explained while crossing his arms over his chest. 
“He will,” Jack offered as he continued to nudge and lightly shove Luke. She thought it was for the best to ignore them and stay in her bubble. She set aside Jack’s drink before she started to pour out Luke’s lemonade.
“That’s good, I’ll keep an eye on the games,” she expressed as she added a lid to the lemonade. 
She took a hold of the drinks and spun around to hand the drinks towards the boys. She handed Jack his drink first, since it was burning her hand. Jack smiled gratefully towards her as he immediately brought it towards his mouth. Meeting Luke’s gaze she handed him the drink, their fingertips brushed against each other’s skin for a moment. Pressing her lips together, she quickly brought her hands towards herself.
“Maybe you should come to one of them,” Luke offered, it was obvious the words fell out of his mouth faster than he intended. Maybe the words left his mouth when he didn’t want them to. Jack brought the drink towards his lips, glancing towards Luke for a moment before looking back towards Y/N. 
“Yeah, I’d like that,” she mumbled as she met his gaze. Their eyes remained connected for a few seconds before Jack let out a long drawn out breath.
“This is the part where you give her your number,” Jack mumbled before stepping away from them, chuckling. Luke clenched his jaw as he fought the grin forming to his lips. His cheeks pinked up as he shook his head slightly. 
“I was getting there,” he let out while laughing. He glanced behind him to see Jack wandering towards the door. She let out a giggle as she pulled her phone from her pocket. 
“Seriously, Y/N, he hasn’t stopped asking about you,”
‘Jack,” he let out while he took a hold of her phone to type his number into her phone. She smiled towards Luke as he handed her phone back towards her. She quickly typed a simply hi before she slipped it back into her pocket. “I’ll see you,” he muttered before he stumbled away towards Jack. He shoved him out of the door.
“You’re a real dick, you know that?” she heard Luke say as they both left the shop at the same time.
She spun around, leaning against the counter and shut her eyes. Raising her hand up, she delicately tapped her skin against her cheek to feel heat practically radiating from her skin. “Oh my god,” she mumbled.
It didn’t take long for the shop to get busy after the boys left. In the middle of a rush, her work best friend, Tommy, jogged inside. Usually, it was busy when Tommy got there but not nearly a line out the door busy. He always blamed it on the back to school students in dire need of a coffee.
“Girl, how are you alive?” Tommy said as he took a plastic cup and read the ingredients before he started making the drink.
“I’m running on pure adrenaline,” she expressed as she began to steam some milk. 
“Oh it’s Semptember, let me guess-” he mumbled. She swated his hand as she began to finish the drink, “Oh definitely the pretty boys,” he let out teasingly. 
“Later,” she mumbled with a giggle leaving her lips.
After thirty minutes the line finally died down and there was no one waiting on a drink. The shop was full to the brim of people with laptops and enjoying a drink. She was cleaning the counters while Tommy was also cleaning a few of the machines. It was a disaster.
Tommy brought his iced coffee towards his lips as he leaned against the counter, slowly wiping it. She fought the grin forming to her lips as she stared towards the coffee grounds spilled in front of her.
“Okay fine,” she muttered as she lifted her gaze to meet Tommy’s. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and held it up to show the unread message from Luke. He leaned towards it and read it. Widening his eyes, his mouth fell open.
“No way,” he let out. She spun the phone back towards herself to read the hey he replied with. She grinned as she shut the screen off. 
She went into detail about what happened, excruciating details about how he looked at her, how his cheeks flushed red. Tommy was obsessed with it because every shift he would walk in and expect her to have some information about it but she had none. She was a little miserable about not seeing him.
It was a little embarrassing how often they were chatting and a customer was waiting, but the little five minute encounter was on replay until she left. She texted with him a few times throughout the morning but she could only do so much while she was working.
~~~
Tonight she was going to the game with Ashton and Tommy. It was the first preseason game in October. Since Luke did not play a home game during September, and she only wanted to go to see him. 
Every morning that Jack and Luke were in town they would stop inside the coffee shop. Luke would stick around for a while waiting for the next set of customers to come in. Jack would get his coffee and leave. She would spent an hour trying to convince him to try a sip of her coffee but he would still refuse. Her mornings felt lonely without him but he always kept her entertained when he was there. 
Her brother was driving the three of them towards the arena, dealing with awful traffic the whole way there. She was annoyed that he wanted to leave two hours before puck drop but apparently he was right. It was awful when Ashton was right because he never let her live it down. 
“I cannot believe we are going to this game because of you,” Ashton said while he watched the light turn green, except they didn’t move. “You better let me meet the guy at least,” he begged quietly. 
She rolled her eyes as she glanced towards Tommy for a moment before she looked out of the window watching the rain hit the window. “Maybe,” she mumbled. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out she saw a text from Luke saying, Stick around after the game, I wanna see you. Nico will stick around too so your brother can meet him. She lifted her gaze glancing towards her brother before she quickly typed an excited reply.
It took nearly another hour before they were parked in the arena. Luke was able to get them lower bowl seats on center ice. He didn’t want them close to the glass, felt like too much pressure; even if it was just preseason.
The seats were starting to get full by the time they arrived, the game was starting soon. They found their seats and Ashton was starting to fan girl. “Do you think we can sit here during the regular season? This is awesome,” Ashton let out as he was adjusting the Hischer jersey on his frame. Tommy sat down, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. 
She sat in the middle of them, awkwardly glancing around the arena. She’s been to a few games when she was a kid but now it felt completely different. Especially since she was told to stay after the game and he’ll meet up with her after. He even offered that her brother and Tommy could stick around too. She didn’t tell them that. She wanted it to be a surprise for Ashton, Tommy could care less. He was just along for the ride.
The team emerged onto the ice and puck drop started. Even for a preseason game the fans were ecstatic for the whole night. Suddenly it became obvious that she was obsessed with the game. It helped that she had someone to search for the whole night.
Her brother would explain the game to her and Tommy but they were still confused. Tommy was just enjoying the snacks the whole time. Ashton was screaming for every goal, high fiving every person around them. The entire game she was following Luke’s movements because he was the reason she was there afterall. 
After the game, both Ashton and Tommy stood up to get ready to leave but she remained seated. Ashton looked down and furrowed his eyebrows. “Get your ass up, let’s go,” Ashton said while waving his hands. She shook her head while staring ahead, a grin toying to her lips. “Come on, dude, I’m tired,” he whined.
“Too tired to meet the captain?” she teased. His mouth fell open as he immediately sat back down. Tommy chuckled as he sat back down, bringing his seltzer towards his lips.
“Do I get to meet Luke?” Tommy asked as he leaned towards her, raising his eyebrows. She nodded. 
Luke texted her letting her know that he was having someone come and grab them. It took another ten minutes before a security guard walked towards them asking to see her ID. She showed it to him and he guided them towards the lower level to meet up with the boys. 
The entire walk down towards the parking garage where the players exited the locker room to, Ashton was talking about how he was going to introduce himself to Nico. Y/N had to calm him down multiple times on their journey down there.
Luke, Jack, and Nico were waiting outside the door. They were all wearing matching t-shirts and shorts while laughing. Luke was the first one to look towards the three of them walking towards them. He smiled widely and led the charge towards them. He walked up to her and hugged her instantly. Her entire body erupted in flames as he engulfed her in a hug. Jack punched his hand against Nico’s arm as he was teasing Luke behind his back. 
“Um- Luke, this is my brother Ashton and my friend Tommy,” she said as Luke reluctantly pulled away from her. Luke reached his hand out towards Ashton first. Ashton shyly took a hold of it, all of his talk about what he was going to say to them disappeared. Luke shook his hand before he shifted his gaze towards Tommy, holding out his hand for him.
Tommy furrowed his eyebrows as he scanned Luke’s features before he shook his hand. Jack jumped in front of Luke to introduce himself to Ashton and Tommy with Nico.
“Ashton, nice to meet you man,” Y/N over heard Nico say as Luke took a hold of her hand and guided her way from the group for a moment. Lifting her gaze she met his eye and smiled softly.
“Did you enjoy the game?” he asked softly as he scanned her features. His cheeks were flushed red as he was pressing his lips together. She nodded while looking into his eyes.
“It was fun, thank you for letting me bring them,” she mumbled as she glanced towards Ashton and Tommy. Tommy was talking with Jack, laughing as they spoke. Ashton was still fangirling with Nico, taking a selfie as they looked over to them.
“Of course,” he mumbled.
~~~
It had been a month since they started dating back at the end of October. Luke was returning home from a roadtrip and she was over the moon. She was tired of waiting for him to call on FaceTime and fall asleep minutes later, she needed to see him. 
She was starting to fall for him deeply, something she didn’t want to do. She’s been afraid of falling in love for years but something about Luke made it easy. He was on his way over to her apartment and she was awaiting him.
Ashton walked out of his bedroom and smiled towards her as he walked towards the kitchen, “I’m ordering a pizza, will your boyfriend want any?” he asked.
“Yes please,” she sing-songed. 
“Okay, so I’ll order three pizzas,” he said teasingly. She rolled her eyes. He chuckled as he pulled his phone towards his ear and started to make the order. He opened the fridge and stared inside as he waited for it to ring. 
It took another fifteen minutes before there was a loud knock on the door. Ashton stood up from the stool he was sitting in near the kitchen. He wandered towards the door, with some specific intentions. She could tell by the dramatics he did while pulling the door open. 
Luke’s eyes widened when he saw Ashton instead of Y/N but he forced a smile on his face while he stepped inside. 
“Hey man,”
“Ordered a pizza,” Ashton said as he looked Luke up and down as Luke stepped inside.
She jumped up from the couch and walked towards him, watching his grin go from fearful to genuine in a matter of a second. Luke reached his hand around her waist, pulling her towards him.
“Come on,” she whispered as she guided him towards her bedroom. Ashton stood in the room, staring suspiciously. They walked down the hallway, “Sorry,” she mumbled towards him. He chuckled softly as they stepped into her room together. She shut the door behind him as she met his gaze. 
“Missed you,” he mumbled as he took a hold of her waist. A wide toothy grin formed to her lips as she took small steps behind her towards her bed. Her legs hit the mattress before she turned around and laid down. Luke looked down towards her, grinning before he climbed over her to lay beside her. “I heard there was pizza on the way?” he asked as he laid facing her. 
Turning her gaze, she met his eye before she leaned towards him, delicately kissing him.
“I’ve missed you too,” she muttered against his lips. A hum fell from his lips while he took a hold of her cheek. Rubbing his thumb across her skin, he watched her eyes shut slowly. Luke leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers. Waiting for her to part her lips to give him access.
Parting her lips, he slipped his tongue into hers as she glided her fingers through his hair. Climbing on top of her, he rested his hands on either side of her head. 
After a few seconds, there was a loud knock against her door. Luke pulled away, interlocking his fingers as he leaned on his elbow to prop himself up.
“What,” she let out, Ashton pushed the door open, leaning against the door frame. 
He stared towards them for a few long awkward seconds before he let out slowly, “Luke Hughes,”
Chuckling softly, “Ashton Y/L/N,” he said as he fought a grin forming to his lips.
“You travel a lot for work, don’t yeah?” Ashton started as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Dropping his head, he let out another laugh, “Yes I do.”
“You behaving?” Ashton said while raising his eyebrows.
“Ashton,” she scolded. 
“Serious question, Y/N. You must have a lot of groupies being a Hughes boy,” he let out taking a step into the room.
“Ashton, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” he let out as he shifted his gaze towards her. She met his gaze, suddenly self conscious of what Ashton was talking about.
“Don’t you have a pizza to go pick up?” she mumbled while looking towards Ashton wide eyed. Ashton met her gaze and scanned her features for a moment before he squinted his eyes suspiciously. 
“Don’t fuck this up and make me hate the Devils, alright?” he let out before he left the room, shutting hte door in the process. 
Luke looked towards her as she let out a nervous laugh, she shoved her face into her pillow. He chuckled as he took a hold of her waist, trying to make her lift her gaze to meet his eye. “You know, I mean that right? Nothing to worry about, I literally live in that hotel bed sleeping most of the time I’m gone,” 
She lifted her gaze and looked into his eye and nodded. “Yeah,” she mumbled as he took a hold of her cheek, running his thumb across her skin. 
“Yeah?” he let out, somewhat teasingly. 
“Yeah,” she whispered. He smirked before he leaned towards her kissing her delicately. He leaned his forehead against hers for a second, “I mean you do have a lot of groupies,” she teased. 
“Yeah, but you’re my favorite,” he muttered, fighting a smirk forming to his lips. Her mouth fell open as her eyes widened. Pulling away, a chuckle fell from her lips. Luke took a hold of the small of her back, pulling her back towards him. He shook his head slightly before leaning towards her devouring her lips.
“I am not a groupie,” she muttered as she climbed onto his lap. His hands started gliding up and down the backs of her thighs. She continued to kiss him urgently. He hummed against her lips as she tilted her head back, scanning his features.
“Still my favorite,” he muttered as he slowly opened his eyes. She squinted her eyes as she fought the smirk toying on her lips. His hands climbed higher and higher up her frame.
She slowly climbed off of his frame, a pout falling on his lips as she wandered towards the door. She twisted the lock before she walked towards him. He bit his bottom lip as he scanned her features.
“What are you thinking?” he asked her as propped himself up on his elbows. She shook her head slightly as she slowly climbed onto his lap again. He rested his hands onto her hips. He rubbed his hands delicately against the fabric of her shirt.
“I’m thinking-” she trailed off before she leaned down and kissed him. 
Loud bangs hit against her door again, “Pizza’s here!” Ashton shouted through the door. She sat up staring down towards Luke, a huff leaving his lips. 
“I thought he ordered it for pickup,” she muttered as she climbed off of his lap, he chuckled. Falling onto her back, a pout fell to her lips.
“It’s alright, my love,” he let out as he slowly stood up from the bed. Waiting for her to follow him, she still laid in protest. Holding out his hand towards her, she reluctantly took a hold of it.
~~~
The following morning, Tommy showed up at the same time as the new trainee Brianna. Today was her second shift with Tommy and Y/N. Tommy adored Brianna while Y/N was still warming up to her. It was always overstimulating for her to train someone and Tommy knew that first hand. Which is why he was taking point on the process. 
“You are so tense today, I thought Luke came over last night,” Tommy teased as he nudged his elbow against her arm. She rolled her eyes playfully while she vigorously cleaned the machine in front of her. “Oh damn, what happened?” 
“We didn’t-” she trialed off as she let out a huff of air. 
“Still?” he let out loudly. She turned around, glaring towards him. He chuckled as he glanced towards Brianna. It was obvious she was listening in. “Brianna, if you’re going to be working with us, you’ll need to get in on this,” he said, pulling her towards the conversation.
“Tom,” Y/N scolded while laughing. “She doesn’t need to know about my sex life,”
“What else do we talk about when we’re here?!” he let out while laughing. “Her and her boyfriend haven’t had sex yet,” he let out.
“Oh my god,” she mumbled while she covered her face with her hands. Brianna’s eyes lit up as she glanced towards Y/N.
“They’ve been together for a month and nothing,” he said while leaning towards Brianna.
“Okay, Tommy when was the last time you had sex?” she deflected while chuckling.
“Last night, thank you,” he let out confidently. Both Brianna and Y/N eyes widened as their mouths fell open. “But we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about Y/N. What is taking you so long?” he teased. 
“Brianna, my boyfriend and I live with our brothers. And they love interrupting us before we get a chance to get anywhere,” she explained.
“Well, is there a Devils game this weekend?” Tommy asked. 
“Friday,” 
“Okay so see if Luke can get them tickets and then you’ll have an empty apartment,” Tommy said confidently. Y/N squinted her eyes as she stared toward him.
“Really think about that Tom,” she said while fighting a laugh rising in her throat. The chimes rang and they shifted their gaze towards the door. Jack led the charge like he always does with Luke trailing behind him. Brianna stared towards them, her mouth agape.
Y/N smiled widely as she met Luke’s gaze. “Hi, she muttered as she continued to look into his eyes. Brianna shifted her gaze towards Tommy, looking for assistance. 
“Oh!” Tommy let out while laughing, he shook his head as he started making Jack’s coffee. “Y/N, take your fifteen,” Tommy expressed. She nodded.
“What are you guys doing here?” she asked as she pointed towards the empty table at the corner of the shop. He nodded as he followed towards her it. They sat down together, he pulled the chair towards him. Resting his hand onto the inside of her thigh as he pulled her closer to him.
“We’ve got a game at three,” he let out. Her eyes widened as she took a hold of his arm.
“Oh my god, that’s right, I forgot I’m sorry,” she mumbled. He shook his head as he pursed his lips forward.
“It’s okay, Jack needed caffeine, he couldn’t nap,” he explained. She nodded as she scanned his features. “His girlfriend is back in town, so he’ll be staying there tonight,” he mumbled, meeting her gaze. She hummed as she met his gaze suspiciously.
“Empty apartment?” she asked teasingly. He nodded.
“Thank god,” she muttered before she leaned towards him, pecking his lips. He chuckled as he glanced towards Jack who was walking towards them.
“Hate to interrupt but we gotta head out Lukey,” Jack muttered as he pursed his lips forward.
“Yeah, I’ll be out in a second,” he said. Jack nodded as he walked out towards the exit. “Will you be at the game?” he questioned. She nodded. 
“Ash will drop me off and I’m meeting up with Reanne,” she explained. He smiled before he pecked her lips.
“I’ll see you after then,” he let out while raising his eyebrows as he walked away towards the door. She leaned back into her chair staring towards the door watching them leave.
Brianna still stood dumbfounded at the center of the register. Her gaze shifted towards Y/N, who was walking back towards the counter. “I know way too much about-” she started before she shook her head. 
Tommy barked out a laugh before he patted his hand against her back, “The timing of that was insane,” he choked out.
~~~
The game ended with a win for the Devils, the first win in three games. Throughout the game, her mind was racing with the idea of what their plan was for later that night. She’s not used to having pressure on having sex with a partner. Usually, it came up naturally or it happened before they even got together. Something about Luke and how he made her feel, she wanted their first time to be perfect.
But now she was just nervous, almost like it was her first time ever. She sat in Luke’s car as he was pulling out of the parking garage, not once bringing up their previously discussed plans. She didn’t know if he wasn’t up for it or didn’t want to put any pressure on her. 
“Everyone going good with the other girls?” he asked as they stopped at a red light directly out of the arena. Tilting his head to the side, he met her gaze. She nodded.
“They’ve been super welcoming,” she expressed.
He smiled widely as he reached his hand over, taking a hold of her hand, “Good, I’m glad,” he muttered as he rubbed his thumb across her skin. “Are you hungry?” he asked. She nodded, shifting her gaze towards the traffic in front of her. Furrowing his eyebrows, he took in a sharp breath before pulled his phone from hsi cup holder. He pulled up his Doordash app and handed towards her. Traffic was still taking forever.
“You’re the best,” she mumbled as she happily took a hold of it and started scrolling through the options. He chuckled as he started driving ahead. 
The drive took another twenty minutes before they stepped into Luke’s apartment complex and the food she ordered for them was waiting for them to arrive. He happily took a hold of the food and guided her towards the elevator to lead them up to his apartment. He stood with the take out container in his hands, side eyeing her every soft often.
Squinting her eyes, she turned and looked over towards him suspiciously. “Why is your face doing that?” she asked while laughing. He pursed his lips forward as his cheeks turned bright red. 
“Nothing,” he muttered as the elevator doors opened to his floor. He stepped out first, holding out his hand towards her. She giggled as she took a hold of it and let him guide her towards his apartment. He stepped up towards the door and unlocked it, pushing inside. 
They stepped inside, surprised to see the light on. To their surprise, Jack and his girlfriend were sitting on the couch watching a movie. “Lukey, hey!” Jack said happily as he perked up. Luke clenched his jaw as he rested their take out food on the counter. He protectively wrapped his arm around her waist. 
“Hey, thought you guys were going to her place tonight,” Luke asked flatly. Y/N pressed her lips together as she started to take their chinese food out of the bag. 
“We changed our minds, traffic would’ve been too bad heading to her place,” he explained as he sat up slightly. Luke nodded silently as he took a hold of the containers and the plastic silverware before he tiled his head to the side. Y/N nodded as she followed him towards his bedroom. He opened the door allowing her to step inside. 
She climbed onto the bed, crossing her legs, she rested the container in front of her. Luke twisted the lock before he followed her in pursuit. Luke let out a groan as he flipped open his container. 
“I swear,” he muttered before he ripped open his silverware. Y/N chuckled while rolling her eyes. 
“At least he’ll be occupied,” she teased. He chuckled as he tilted his head back.
“Yeah hopefully,” he said while laughing. 
He pulled up Grey’s Anatomy, the tv show that they watch together. He’s never seen and it and it’s her favorite to watch his reactions to the episodes. They were still only on season two.
They sat silently while they ate and watched the show together, glancing towards one another every so often. His cheeks were flushed red. She could tell their minds were busy but she didn’t mind. She loved just being with him. 
“Question,” he asked while tapping his hand against her thigh. She shifted her gaze towards him, her heart pounding out of her chest. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Because you’ve got this-” he trailed off as he pointed towards the pout on her lips. Her lips curled upward into a smile. “There’s my girl,” he mumbled, a smirk on his lips. 
“I’m sorry,” she whined through her smile, “I am just nervous,” she muttered before she brought a bite of food to her mouth.
“Nervous?” he asked as he scanned her frame. His eyes widened as realization sunk in. “Why?” he asked as he jammed his fork into his food. A smirk toyed to his lips. 
She swallowed her food before pursing her lips forward, “I just feel pressured to make this happen,” she explained motioning between them. He furrowed his eyebrows as he placed his food beside him. He scooted towards her.
“From me?” his voice got quiet.
“No,” she let out instantly, a chuckle falling from her lips. “From me mostly an-and Tommy but mostly me. I never really cared this much before, feels weird,” she let out, avoiding his gaze. 
He smirked as he tilted his head to the side, trying to meet her gaze. “W-Why do you care so much?” he asked barely above a whisper. She pouted as she tilted her head back. His eyes widened as he fought a grin forming to his lips. 
“Stop looking at me like that,” she whined.
“It’ll happen when it happens,” he said softly. She rolled her eyes playfully.
“You’re such a dork,” she whispered. He grinned widely.
~~~
His hand was wrapped around her waist tightly, gripping her to his side as they waited for the elevator doors open. His hand started bunching the fabric of her dress in his hands. A giggle fell from her lips as the doors opened, he rested his hands on both of her hips as he guided her out of the elevator. “Luke,” she let out barely above a whisper. 
He brushed her hair away from her neck, pressing his lips against her skin for a moment as she began to unlock the door to her apartment. He continued to kiss the skin against her shoulder as she giggled. “Luke.” He pulled away, still resting his hands onto her waist. 
She pushed the apartment open and he excitedly pushed them inside. The door shut behind them as he excitedly pushed her against the door. Her eyes widened as she took in a deep breath. Her lips curled upward into a wide grin.
At some point, her heels were kicked off of her feet. She doesn’t remember when or how but she didn’t care.
“I’m so glad Ash is out of town,” she mumbled, looking into his eyes. He took a hold of her waist as he scanned her features. 
“Oh me too,” he mumbled before he took a hold of her neck as pulled her towards him, kissing her urgently. She hummed against his lips as she took a hold of the suit jacket covering his frame and pulled him closer. He glided his hands down her frame, he took a hold of her thighs as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. 
Her body erupted into flames as his hands gripped her thighs tightly as he guided her towards her room. Still holding her up, he took a hold of the door and pushed it open. He delicately lowered her body onto her bed, she smiled up towards him as she scooted higher up on the bed. 
He bit his bottom lip as he pulled the suit jacket away from his frame, tossing it to the floor. He brought his hands up and unbuttoned the first button before he climbed on top of her. He instantly connected their lips again as she took a hold of the buttons on his shirt, trying to unbutton them. 
“My dress,” she mumbled against his lips. 
“Is very hot,” he muttered as he started trailing his lips along her jawline, down towards her neck.
“No,” she said while giggling, she took a hold of his cheeks, forcing his gaze on hers. His eyes widened as he grinned slightly. “I mean, can you help me take it off?” she asked softly. He nodded instantly. 
Slowly leaning back, she followed in pursuit. Their eyes remained connected the whole time. She slowly climbed off of the bed, standing in front of him. Taking a small step, she faced away from him. Her hair was laid across her back, slowly she took a hold of it and pulled it across her shoulder. 
Luke raised his hand up and delicately took a hold of the zipper. Slowly, he glided it down to expose her skin. His fingers were hesitantly gliding along her skin. He took a hold of the straps to push the dress from her body. Her body were covered in goosebumps as took a hold of her waist, slowly turning her around to face him. Her body was still covered by her black lace underwear.
His fingertips glided along the fabric over her underwear. Biting her bottom lip, she took a hold of his shoulders. Her hands glided along the fabric as she met his eye, “Your turn,” she whispered. His eyes lit up as he scanned her frame.
“My turn?” he questioned softly. She hummed as she reached towards the buttons for him. He leaned back on his hands as she leaned towards him, slowly unbuttoning the shirt from his frame. The blush on the apples of his cheeks reddened as his gaze lowered on her frame. The last button popped open, revealing his body. She watched as his ab muscles tensed as the cold air hit his skin. 
He sat up slightly, pulling the shirt from his frame; he threw it to the floor. Standing up, he looked down towards her. Pressing his lips together, he began to undo his pants. She fought the smirk toying to her lips. Gliding the pants off of his frame, he kicked them away. 
He smirked as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around her waist. Lifting her up and tossing her down on the bed, she giggled as her back hit the mattress. He climbed on top of her, chuckling before he began to kiss her lips urgently only for a moment. His lips began to trail from her jaw towards her neck.
He slowly began to suck against her skin, biting before soothing the skin with his tongue. Her fingertips started tugging his curls as he continued to trail his lips and his hands down her frame. Tilting her head back, she took in a sudden breath. After a few seconds, “Oh my god,” she let out breathlessly. 
Smirking against her collarbone, he lifted his gaze to meet her eye. Nodding she arched her back and with one hand he took the clasp of her bra and slipped it from her frame. Swallowing hard his eyes lit up as he took in the way she looked. Leaning towards her, he pressed his lips against hers sensually. 
Softly, he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth sucking in slowly before he pulled away. 
“You’re so beautiful,”  he mumbled as he scanned her features. A soft smile formed to her swollen lips before she leaned towards him kissing him. His hands began to roam her frame, massaging her skin. 
She was starting to get more light headed the longer his hands roamed her frame. He looped her lacy underwear with his finger as he slowly started to slide it from her legs. He slipped it to the floor before he took a hold of her thighs. Pulling her towards the edge of the bed. “Lu-” she let out as she giggled.
“Yeah?” he let out with a teasing smirk as he delicately took a hold of her legs to part them. Looking towards her she nodded as she gripped the sheet beside her as her body tingled with excitement. His gaze lingered on her center as he softly grazed his fingertips across her skin. 
“You’re such a tease,” She breathed out.
“Oh am I?” he muttered as he climbed up towards her, hovering over her. Looking deeply into her eyes, she nodded as she took a hold of his cheek. Glidng her thumb across his cheek, “I think you just gotta be patient,” he let out slowly. Her eyebrows raised as she pursed her lips forward. 
“Patient? I’ve been patient for months,” she teased back. He chuckled before he leaned towards her kissing her urgently for a moment. 
“Then you’re good for a little longer,” he mumbled against her lips. 
Tilting her head back, she groaned quietly. He leaned towards her devouring her lips, pulling her bottom lip into his mouth again. 
Several minutes went by before Luke pulled his lips away from hers. He slowly lowered on her frame trailing wet kisses down her frame. 
Dragging his tongue as his lips got lower and lower on her frame. He took a soft hold of thighs as he slowly parted them, a smirk toyed to his lips. 
He took his thumb and softly began to rub his thumb against her clit. She took a sudden breath as her grip tightened against the bed sheets. He loved watching her squirm under his touch. A hushed moan left her lips.
 He smiled towards her as he took a hold of her thighs as leaned towards her center urgently. 
“Oh, fuck,” she muttered as her body was overwhelmed with heat as his tongue flicked against her clit. 
He gripped her thighs as he continued, holding her in place. His tongue continued to suck on her clit as his fingers delved into her center. 
“Oh my god-oh fuck-” her voice started to get louder.
He could feel her thighs start to clench under his touch. He pulled away from her, climbing up her frame, trailing wet kisses up her body. “Such a tease,” she mumbled as he hummed against her skin. 
“So impatient,” he let out before he pressed his lips against hers for a moment. 
“Please, I need you,” she muttered as she looked into his eyes. 
He pressed his lips against hers sloppily for another second before he stood up from her to slip his boxers from his frame. Her eyes widened as smirked towards him. 
He took a hold of his cock and slowly ran his hand up and down it a few times before he took a hold of her thigh. He further parted her legs, aligning himself with her center. He glanced towards her. 
Hw pushed inside of her, a low grunt leaving his lips. 
Slowly, thrusted inside of her a few times before he climbed on top of her. A breathy moan left her lips as he hiked her thigh up slowly as he continued to thrust into her. “Fuck,” he mumbled against her lips.
Her breathing was heavy as her hands glided through his curls, tugging them. 
“So good baby,” he mumbled against her lips before he started to leave wet kisses against her neck as moans left both of their lips as they were both chasing their climax. “Fuck, baby,” 
Her entire body tightened as she tilted her head back, a moan left her body as she fingertips dug into his back. He soon followed in pursuit, meeting his own climax. He grunted as he gripped her thigh tightly as they both started breathing heavily. It was as if everything was right in the world at that moment.
Just them, this close and completely falling in love.
He peppered kisses against her skin as he slowly pulled away from her. He laid onto his back as she rolled onto her side to face him. 
Glancing towards her, he bit his bottom lip as he fought a grin forming to his lips. He reached over towards her, pulling her towards him to lay onto his chest. Resting her head onto his chest, “Wow,” she mumbled. He chuckled as he leaned down and pressed his lips against her head.
“So beautiful,” he mumbled as he glided his hand through her hair.
~~~
The following day, she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. The entire morning while she was at work, her entire body was oozing with joy. There was no one in the shop when Tommy showed up. Spinning around, she smiled towards him as he walked inside. He furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he walked towards the counter. 
Y/N slid over the iced coffee she made for him. He pursed his lips forward as he took a hold of the drink. He sipped it for a second before he walked behind the counter. 
“What is wrong with your face?” he asked as he scanned her features. Her eyes widened as she shook her head slightly. “Oh my god!” he expressed. She shook her head as she fought a grin forming to her lips. 
“Stop-”
“You have that glow,” he said teasingly. “You had se-”
“Remember when I begged you to stop asking about my sex life while at work?” she let out with a grin on her lips.
“Oh but you’re the one with-”
“Okay, fine-we did and it was amazing,” she whispered. Tommy threw his hands in the air.
“Hallelujah!” Tommy shouted as he wrapped his arms around her. 
“Don’t be weird,” she let out while laughing.
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kcrossvine-art · 9 months ago
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Hi fellow adventurers!! A few weeks ago i caught wind of "Delicious in Dungeon". I'm not really an anime person, but I am a TTRPG, CRPG, and cooking person- . And holy shit. It is so good i  convinced my partner to binge read the whole thing. I'm caught up on dungeon meshi, the anime, and just yesterday i also finished dungeon meshi, the manga.
Its rare to come across a serialized story that is so thematically cohesive and knows its characters so well. All of the bonus content like the artbooks and monster tidbits are just the icing on top.
So, inspired by Ryōko Kui's writing and illustration I'm going to attempt to create a recipe for every single Delicious in Dungeon recipe!-
Today that means Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot is on the menu!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes in to a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot?” YOU MIGHT ASKThis is one of the pricier dishes until we get to the kelpies and dragons of the menu-
Rock lobster tail
Porcini mushrooms
Shiitake mushrooms
Snow fungus
Small potatos
Fensi (glass noodles)
Water
OPTIONAL: your choice of dipping sauces
There was a crossover/promotional event in Shibuya which featured various realworld dishes from the series. They had one for Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom, but they used prawns.  while those cook better in a hotpot, they also didn't look enough like the scorpion for me, they also used udon noodles for the slime and a seaweed/kale(?) mixture for the algae. If you're looking for substitutes due to price or availability i would start with those ingredients.
AND, “what does a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKI hope Senshi would forgive me for technically cooking the lobster outside the pot, once he tastes it.
Okay im always partial to veggies but wowowowowowowoowowowow the snow fungus and the mushrooms tasted soooooooooooo good in the lobster stock
A nice delicate layering of different flavors
Try to get a bite with the lobster meat and shiitake together, dip in butter then chili- trust me
Its up to you what texture you prefer if you want to put the noodles in at the end or put them in halfway through the meal. Either way dont go for eating those first as theyre very filling
I think this would pair well with a citrus drink, something light and clarifying
This would also pair well with being extremely high and hungry (if you feel safe cooking while inebriated lol) very calorically dense
For the trial run I did one lobster tail in the pot with everything else, and one lobster tail off to the side to be picked apart. The former is more in spirit with a hotpot, but it got rubbery as the meal went on and lost its nice taste. The latter may be a bit more work but all you have to do still is boil it and set it aside. I found it held up much better. It was also easier to get inside the shell.
. If you have hardshell maine lobster available, i think it would be superior to rock lobster (keep in mind crustaceans will get rubbery if cooked too long in the pot) . Green onions and/or lotus root would make excellent additions
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From getting the ingredients out to sitting down and eating, id say it took maybe 30 minutes max? It'd vary on how fast you can prep vegetables and get the various implements heated.
Hotpots are not something i do very often as i'm usually just feeding myself. I think thats why a hotpot makes perfect sense to start the series off. If you want to set the tone of "take care of yourself, eat food with others, and use what you have" (generally speaking) there is nothing more simplistic, flexible, and defeats-the-purpose-if-you-eat-it-alone than a hotpot. Gather around and let your friends bring ingredients to the pot if you want to fill your heart up extra full <3
I'm doing something different here because unlike previous recipes where i used a bunch of different sources and made my own recipe out of hodge-podging it, or just used another persons recipe entirely if they did it really well, i made this more whole-cloth based off of what i had available, what I could discover through research, and my existing knowledge. Instead of the recipe being 50/50 original, this one is more 20/80. So. I'll pass the final verdict off to you guys :D 
What would you rate this recipe out of 10? (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
2 Rock lobster tails
3 Porcini mushrooms
2 Shiitake mushrooms
Snow fungus (a good handful, should rehydrate in the hotpot)
2 Small waxy potatos
Fensi (glass noodles)
Water/lobster stock
Method:
Lightly rinse all of your vegetables beforehand and let them dry.
Vertically slice the porcini mushrooms. Cut off and dice the stems of the shiitake mushrooms. You can slice the tops if youd like.
Peel and cube the potatoes, roughly an inch each.
For the lobster tails; Boil a pot of salted water. Keep the shell on. Weigh the largest tail and add 1 minute of cooking time for every ounce of weight.
When done, strain the lobster from the water. Pour the water into your hotpot as the base. Serve the lobster on the side so people can pick the meat out to dip into the hotpot.
Bring the hotpot to a simmer. Add the potato cubes, snow fungus, mushrooms, and noodles.
OPTIONAL: this wasnt in the show, but its fun having sauces on the side :) i had oyster sauce, dry seasoned chili dip, melted butter, and soy sauce available
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brainddeadd · 3 months ago
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Accidentally calling your boyfriend "husband"
Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
Fluff
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Wandering around Vancouver with Quinn, you both decide to duck into a café for something warm while the rain beats down on the ground outside.
He leads you over to the counter, eyes scouring the menu, but you already know what you're getting.
"Hi, could I please get one large hot chocolate for myself and a large cappuccino for my husband?" You don't even realise you've said it, but Quinn does. He turns to you, eyes wide, jaw falling open slightly, before his face softens and a smile creeps onto his features.
"Sure, anything else?" The girl behind the counter questions, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.
"Two chocolate eclairs for my wife and I, please." Quinn adds, and it's your turn to look at him wide-eyed. The cashier nods, and Quinn pays, leading you over to the table in the back of the café, his hands taking yours in his as you sit across from him.
"Wife?" You question, voice soft and shy, a blush coating your cheeks in a way that makes Quinn want to die.
"You started it," he mumbles. "Callin me husband as if my heart won't beat out of my chest."
"I didn't.." You trail off as you run through what you'd said at the counter, your blush intensifying as you realise that you did, in fact, call Quinn, your husband. "I'm sorry."
Quinns heart constrcts at how you sound, almost as if you feel guilty, like you've said something you shouldn't.
"What for?" His fingers tangle with yours. "It's going to be true one day."
Eyes darting to his, your jaw goes slack, and he chuckles slightly, fingers gently pressing your chin closed.
"I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he shrugs, as if he didn't just make a life changing, world altering declaration. "Besides, my family would kill me if I let you slip away."
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