#i've been waiting all month for this one lol
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yusuke-of-valla · 2 years ago
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throw away your mask (and then what's left?)
Or:
Ren: My girlfriend took my other girlfriend in the divorce
AO3
Despite it supposedly being nearly spring, Ren’s cold when he gets back to Leblanc. When he’s there, Sojiro is nowhere to be seen, and Haru and Kasumi are sitting in a booth together, holding coffees.
“Oh? Is it just going to be all three of us tonight?” Ren asks. “Am I going to beat the cold with some curry and cuddling with my two lovely girlfriends?”
Instantly he knows something is wrong. Haru’s face is completely neutral, and Kasumi won’t look him in the eyes.
“What? Too cheesy?” He asks, trying to break the tension that’s got the cafe in a vice grip.
“Do you remember when I told you about my nightmares about my father?” Haru asks.
“Yeah, ‘course. Did you have another one?”
“Something like that.”
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Ren asks.
“Haru-chan and I were talking,” Kasumi says, “about how, you know, growing up I used to think it would be so much better if my sister wasn’t around.” She chuckles. “Awful, right?”
“I don’t think that’s–”
“I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her, I just thought if I could match someone without being a matched set, people wouldn’t decide they wanted her all the time instead of me. Guess they were right to be disappointed with me, since apparently I'm the stupid one, since even my boyfriend prefers her over me, and he’s never even met her!”
“Kasumi–” 
“My name is Sumire,” she snaps. 
Huh. It’s been so long since aren't experienced genuine dread he doesn’t immediately recognize the twisting sensation in his stomach.
Haru’s glaring daggers at him too.
“How’d you find out?” He asks.
“We all thought something was wrong,” Haru says. “We talked it out, then we remembered. Then Akechi told us about the deal. We wanted to hear it out of your mouth.”
“...is it really so bad living in Maruki’s reality?” Ren asks. “I mean, Sumi, you got what you wanted anyway.”
“You will call me Sumire,” she says. “And you were there when I changed my mind and wanted to live as myself.”
“Did you really? Or did you just think you had to?” Ren says. “Maybe we were wrong! Society’s always telling us that we have to suffer to learn lessons, that it’s the proper way to do things, but that’s bullshit! Haru it wasn’t fair that your father died, he was just collateral damage of someone else’s scheme! And Sumire you killed your sister! Do you really want to live with that?”
Sumire flinches, and Haru puts a hand over hers. 
“No one wants to live with pain, Ren,” Haru says. “But it’s preferable to this.“
“Why? Is that fair to everyone else in Tokyo? Or the people who were brought back, they’re the same as if they never died, you’d just be killing them again!” 
“I’ve already lived my life under the control of my father, I don’t want anyone else to have the power to decide what’s going to make me happy but me,”
“Maruki is not your dad,” Ren says, “he’s a good person, he means well, he’s not—”
“WE’RE NOT TALKING ABOUT MARUKI!” Sumire shouts suddenly. “We’re not talking about him, or this reality, or if it’s fair to everyone else! We’re talking about the fact that you made this decision without talking to us!”
Haru nods. “We already rejected this reality, and without consulting us you tossed us back in and made us forget that anything was wrong. And I know you think Maruki means well, and he probably thinks he means well, but how well-meaning can he be if he opted to continue condemning Sumire-chan to play act as Kasumi instead of bring her back?!“ Haru adds, getting more and more worked up. “Oh but even then I’m reading too much into it, aren’t I? Well I’m not as stupid as you think I am. If you actually cared about us or any of the things you were talking about you would have discussed it with us before taking the deal or even brought it up throughout Maruki’s Palace but you didn’t because you agreed, all the way up until something that affected you personally came up right?”
Haru’s gripping her mug so tightly that Ren thinks it’s about to crack. “I’d yell at you for choosing my father’s murderer over me, but that’s not fair is it? Because Akechi is just as angry as I am, so you really didn’t choose him either? You chose yourself.”
“I mean, it fits, doesn’t it?” Sumire adds. “You did teach me to be more selfish, senpai, so I guess I’ll have to give you points for consistency! But you know, the thing is just because it’s alright to be selfish doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences.”
If Ren were in their shoes, he wouldn’t take a hollow apology, especially now that they’re so far gone.
“So what will you do now?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Sumire says, “we’re going to finish what we started. If you like it so much, we’ll see if there’s a way we can leave and you can stay here. We won’t force you to fight him if you really prefer… all this.”
“It won’t work,” Ren says. “It’s been too long, he’s too powerful now. You’ll die.”
“I’ve already died once resisting the will of a self-proclaimed god, I don’t mind doing it again,” Haru says. “Besides isn’t that the best outcome for you? He’ll kill us and bring us back with no memories and you can continue on like none of this ever happened.”
“Haru, I don’t want that!”
“Why not? Didn’t you just say the versions of dead people are exactly the same as they were in our reality beyond being alive? So you shouldn't have anything to worry about!”
“That’s not–”
“Is killing us and replacing us a step too far? You’ll let him wipe our memories after we poured our hearts out to you explaining why we wanted to go back, but that’s where you draw the line?”
“I–” Ren doesn’t know what to say. “I didn’t want any of you to suffer.”
“We were already suffering,” Sumire says. “God these past few months, I thought I was crazy. Feeling wrong, looking at myself in the mirror and thinking my face is different. The others have too. We all felt like we were forgetting something. But we didn't say anything because ‘Ren said it was probably fine, just finals anxiety. Obviously Ren wouldn’t lie. Obviously Ren cares about us.’ Can you really care about someone if you don’t trust them to decide what would make them happy? If you don’t listen to them when they say this isn't what they want?”
Ren’s silent. He usually has a million and one ideas for things to say, but now? Nothing.
“I don’t particularly care if someone promises they’ll wield that power well,” Haru says, “you’ve made it abundantly clear that one person can not be trusted to have control over the lives of everyone in Tokyo.” She gets up and hands Sumire her coat, all in one elegant motion.
“...you know what’s worst?” Haru asks as they reach the door. “Despite it all, I can’t truly wish harm on you.”
And they disappear into the cold.
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demaparbat-hp · 1 year ago
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Almost
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sysig · 1 month ago
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Skelekinz (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Webkinz#Gaster#Sans#Papyrus#Smol's a genius and I'm giving her at least a solid 50% of the inspiration credit on this one#Like I've already been in the mood of Webkinzifying others - there's more Helix stuff in the works I just aghldsjafskdlf#But then she tossed the idea of Gaster's blue hands being Buddies and agh gah what brilliance how quick on the draw#Lol#Really tho! Gaster's PSI being a Buddy - or like a Pet of the Month special or something - so cool! So clever!#And so the rest of it haha#Once again drawing his hands signing ''s'' and ''p'' :3c Who remembers my old vector of him still haha#And then also Void!Gaster! :D Looking much sadder haha his Happiness just never quite fills all the way nooo#Does momentarily when you give him a labcoat but then he just asks for something else to wear weh :'D#And obviously if he was Skele-kinz'd (hehe) then the boys had to be as well! ♥ Always deserve the cutes and sweets#Sans' is easy enough - there's no actual white turtleneck under blue jacket item but there Should be! It's so cute!#There is the Hotdog Buddy hehe - if you'll recalled Mini Mint who is currently cosplaying Sans has one :)#But there's no Spaghetti Buddy! Agh! So unfortunate#There is a Marshmallow Buddy tho :3 Which is pretty fun hehe#All this Sans rep gotta find a good Papyrus clothes and pet!#Had a good bit of fun imagining how they'd move around in rooms and such - there are bipedal pets! I think they walk funny haha#Sans would definitely always have his hands in his pockets outside of like emoting animations haha - little wave with his left hand <3#You could probably replace Gaster's clipboard prop with other things - the Halloween candy bucket comes to mind lol#And then some requests :D Papyrus would want spaghetti but of course his spaghetti is the very best (it's not)#But he'd still appreciate the comparison!#Gaster's requests would definitely be outlandish and impossible haha - or else to go to work and then to go to work again lol#You have to wait eight hours you workaholic skeleton you're not allowed! We Just Did! Haha
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manasurge · 2 years ago
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Mourynn, my GW2 OC's bio page! This is just meant to be a simplified breakdown of her character where I will branch out (lol) to all the other aspects in detail in their own separate posts/drawings. I just wanted her bio to me more visual instead of all just text, and I also included some inspirations with a little background info to fill in some blanks (which will be expanded upon later as well). to note: - she does, for the most part, follow the canonical Commander storyline, except not EVERY part and with not the same exact personality of the in game player character either (tbh I don't think anyone's Commander OCs do so I suppose this is obvious lol) - allowing her to still play the Commander role (to a slightly lesser degree but still just enough) allows me to integrate her into all areas of Tyria, and with a more diverse set of experiences and characters to interact with and keep her involved in the major storyline (ESPECIALLY with the Elder Dragon storyline. I'm going to have lots of fun with those interactions and experiences) - this also opens more doors for giving her unique experiences in these different zones with different characters that don't happen in game (since it's easier for me to work with an existing storyline instead fo fully creating a new one. Uses up less of my brain battery) - this also allows me to poke fun at some things in game with Mourynn in character bc I have SO many things saved up that are highly amusing to me and this way I can use a bunch of my saved screenshots to my potential. - I'm also taking advantage of a bunch of plot holes and other spans of time (such as the Firstborn Era before the Secondborn came about) Her dragon form will have it's own page (with inspirations) since there is lots I still need to design and showcase, and I wanted it to have it's own separate focus! Everything will make more sense once it's all done (such as explaining how a firstborn and scion(?) are to exist at the same time, I have a fun way to which I wanna explain it once I'm done the dragon bio page). I'll also have a separate breakdown of her Elite spec and showing/explaining what it does and how it works bc it was a lot of fun to create.
Anyways this is a VERY self indulgent OC, and since I only ever make one OC (since they're almost always a self-insert to some degree with me), she's going to be very spoiled and will allow me to give her lots of attention and have fun with all the dynamics. I also can't mentally handle more than one OC bc that is WAY too overwhelming for me lol.
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sisterdivinium · 1 year ago
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She had sworn. Against her better judgement, against her nature.
"I feel something for you."
"… So do I."
"Something forbidden."
"I don't believe in sin."
"Not sin. Forbidden by an oath I took for life. I can't be with you, Jillian."
She had touched her then.
"… That implies you'd want to."
She did. Both of them did.
And so she swore not to willingly lead Mother Superion astray, swore to resist when they both felt the magnetism, the electricity of the most innocent touches.
She heard her own words — small, distant — perish when at last Suzanne's lips reached her own.
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guinevereslancelot · 5 months ago
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let a first grade student scroll thru my picture roll on my phone yesterday at work and one of them saw a pic of my little brother (2 years younger than me) and asked if he was my son 😔
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taegularities · 1 year ago
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thingswhatareawesome · 1 year ago
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i hate you stellar warp, i hate you i hate you i hate you i fucking HATE you
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doodles-by-noodles · 1 month ago
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You were real.
THIS was my piece for the @everybodyloveshajime zine and I am so so so so so proud to share it with the world after months of production and patience... and also waiting for my partner to finish sdr2 lol.
I've got an explanation for this one under the read more, but regardless of if you read all that, I'm so genuinely proud of this piece and I'm so happy to share it with the world. I love these two <3
When I was assigned Chiaki for this project I already knew I had to do something to illustrate my love for the mutual tragedies these two had been through in both sdr2 and... as much as I hate to say it... dr3's despair arc.
Regardless of what you've seen with these two and how much you adopt into your personal canon the fact can't be denied: by the time sdr2 happened neither Hajime nor Chiaki technically existed anymore. Hajime's consciousness should never have come back considering what the Kamukura project did to him, and Chaiki was an artificial consciousness designed to help rehabilitate the Remnants of Despair. Neither of them... should have existed AND YET- both of them had real and tangible effects on the people around them.
Considering what dr3 introduced their story is just... so much sadder. Thinking about them being friends, Hajime losing himself to try and be someone worthy of being her friend and Chiaki being made a spectacle to torment her classmates all while wondering where that boy she used to hang out with went. As much as I dislike the anime I was so gut wrenched realizing that these characters had history.
So I wanted to draw that final scene... where Chiaki comforts Hajime and gives him the strength to make the decision he needed to. It's important to me.
Even if Hajime died then and there, if him and Chiaki would never be recovered both of them left an impact on those around them and that means...
that both of them... were real.
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slapintoaslimjim · 5 months ago
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requited love
how the mha characters would react to finding out you also have feelings for them
includes: i.midoryia, k.bakugou, s.todoroki
a/n: this is part one, i'll be making part two with Kiri, kami, and sero soon :3
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izuku midoryia
-found out by uraraka just randomly dropping in her sentences about how you always talk about him
-"yeah y/n mentions about you two hanging out to me a lot, she also called you cute!" "wait whAT?!"
-but, he doesn't want to jump to conclusions and make a fool out of himself in case if he's just reading into it too much
-cue him stressing himself out over it to the max
-because what do you mean the person he's crushed on since his first year at UA likes him back?! no she might not.. okay but she does because she talks to uraraka about their hang outs all time and called him cute!
-yeah, its an internal battle for a while
-i've mentioned in a previous drabble that he is the type to write a love letter. so yep! you guessed it!
-he's writing that letter for you
-BUT! before he gives it to you, he manages to get a somewhat concrete answer if you actually like him from uraraka
Katsuki Bakugou
-he already knew lol
-he's a highly observant person, and as your friendship grew he watched as the way you act with him is so different (to him) versus with your other friends
-its the way when he talks your full undivided attention is always on him, a soft smile on your face, too
-or when events happen around campus, your first instinct is to invite him with you
-or how you're constantly checking up on him and making sure he doesn't over do himself when training
-you didn't do this the first few months of the friendship, and it can be very easily overlooked by the others and it is but he notices these subtle things
-and when you two are hanging out alone, that tough, hard exterior that he had, crumbles
-you become his kryptonite, and he has a hard time for a while accepting the fact that he has feelings for you too, beyond platonic
-because why did that hug you gave him make his heart palpate? Mina is constantly hugging everyone, including him, and that never happens with her
-because yes, katsuki may struggle with his feelings. but he's not an idiot. he knows the difference between romantic and platonic
-and what he feels, he knows it's not platonic anymore
shoto todoroki
-he suspects it, but doesn't think too much of it at first
-he's dense, yeah. maybe bad with knowing and spotting romantic feelings. but, he does realize how you act with him
-because you're a bit more forward with your actions and words to him (because lets be honest, if you're not, he's not going to get the slightest hint)
-''awe the suit looks so good on you, sho! you look so cute!" "..huh..?"
-or your excuse to constantly be around be at some extent, always hugging him or wanting some sort of skinship with him
-which he slowly but surely opens up to the idea with you
-and izuku is the wingman for both of you; hearing both of your stories about each other and offering advice the best he can
-eventually izuku just blatantly tells him that you like the boy while he's talking to izuku since shoto is obviously conflicted
-"todoroki.. y/n does like you. you're not looking too deep into it" "........"
-time for him to steal his daddy's card and take you on that date he's been mentally planning
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shockercoco · 6 months ago
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Nothing Like Honey
Tyler Owens x reader
warnings - 18+, smut, aphrodisiac, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, penetration, ig premature orgasm?, some swearing
word count - 4126 (idk how lol)
a/n - this is my first Kinktober as a writer, and I was gonna skip it bc of my schoolwork, but there's no way I'm gonna miss out. I haven't posted in a month and college is taking all of my energy with all the writing i'm doing. also disclaimer: I've never tried honey packets so idk if they actually work lol. thx for reading and I hope you enjoy :)
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“You can’t say no without even seeing what it is first,” Boone smiles.
You, Boone, and Tyler were sitting in a booth at the bar, celebrating after a good day of chasing. Dani and Lily were off somewhere beating Dexter in darts. The bar is noisy and pretty crowded for somewhere so rural, but you got lucky and found a quiet booth in the corner.
“With you, yeah I can,” Tyler laughs, before taking a sip from the beer bottle and placing it back down.
“Just look at what it is before you make a decision,” Boone rolls his eyes. He reaches into his pocket to retrieve two small packets and places them on the table.
Your eyes widen. “Is that what I think it is?” you ask, leaning forward to get a better look.
“It sure is,” Boone nods. He smirks, folding his arms against his chest and leaning back into the booth. 
Tyler looks between the two of you, confused, before asking, “Okay, what am I missing here?”
You look up at Tyler. “They’re uh…,” you begin, but trail off. You then look over at Boone, silently telling him to answer for you.
“They’re horny packets,” Boone smiles proudly.
“Honey packets,” you correct him, sending him a playful glare.
Boone waves you off. “Same thing.”
Tyler reaches the hand that wasn’t resting on the booth behind you to grab one of the packets. “And what exactly do these honey packets do?” Tyler questions, his eyebrows furrowed as he turns the packet over in his hand.
“Like I said, they make you horny. They’re like an aphrodisiac so they’re supposed to take everything to the next level. If you know what I mean,” Boone wiggles his eyebrows.
“Oh, come on,” Tyler looks at him in disgust, but you just laugh. If you hadn’t known Boone for almost as long as Tyler, you’d be disgusted too, but you’re used to his antics.
“What, man? I’m just keeping it real,” Boone raises his hands in surrender.
“And do they actually work?” you ask.
“Believe me, they work,” Boone gives you a look. You let out another laugh, and this time Boone joins you.
“What do we do with it?” Tyler asks, still eyeing the packet.
“Just take the packet and wait for everything to kick in,” Boone says, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.
Tyler squints. “Where the hell do you get these kinds of things from?” asks Tyler, not too surprised since Boone is always showing him something new.
“A magician never reveals his secret,” Boone playfully shrugs, causing Tyler to kick him under the table.
“Ow!” Boone leans down to rub his shin.
“You’ll be okay,” Tyler tells him, a small smile forming on his lips.
“Do you guys want these or not? There’s no need to harass me,” Boone looks between you and Tyler. You look up at Tyler, and he looks back at you with his eyebrows raised. 
“Your choice,” Tyler shrugs.
You contemplate for a moment, before nodding and looking over at Boone. “We’ll do it.”
“Alright!” Boone claps his hand.
Ten minutes later, the packets are in your system, and you and Tyler decide to call it a night. Tyler heads to the bar to pay his tab and you follow behind him. You normally don’t like to hover, but the bartender has been making eyes at him all night. 
“Gone so soon?” the bartender asks with a tempting smile and a tilt of her head, a cowboy hat placed on top.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tyler nods, giving her a kind smile as he hands her his card. You watch her return the smile before heading off to close his tab. 
When Tyler turns his head to look at you, you give him a smile. Tyler knows it’s a fake one which is why he sends you a smirk before wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
“Well, I sure do hope I see you back in here soon,” the bartender says as she comes back to hand him his card and receipt, leaning against the counter to show off her breasts in the process. You turn your head so she doesn’t see you roll your eyes. This also makes you miss her eyeing Tyler’s arm around you.
Tyler gives her a quick thank you before walking off with you under his arm. You run into Lily right in front of the entrance who looks disappointed when she sees you and Tyler leaving.
“Already?” Lily pouts. “You’re really going to leave me here with the others?”
“It’s nothing you can’t handle,” you laugh at her reaction, quickly leaning in to give her a hug. 
“Tell the others we said goodnight, will you,” Tyler tells her. She nods before telling you and Tyler goodnight and walking away.
“Where are you two lovebirds going?” you hear Boone call from behind you, as you and Tyler walk to his truck.
“It’s late, Boone,” Tyler calls back, not turning to look back at him.
“Is that the only reason?” you hear Boone’s voice coming closer as Tyler opens his passenger door for you to enter. You can hear the suggestiveness in his tone.
“Goodnight, Boone,” Tyler rolls his eyes, as he watches you get in.
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to tell me about your private life,” Boone says, a smile evident in his voice.
You stick your head back out to see Boone laughing. You let out a giggle as you call out, “Goodnight!”
Tyler playfully shoves your head back into the truck, before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.
“Don’t make me run you over,” you hear Tyler tell Boone, before he opens the door and climbs in beside you. Boone sends you a wave, before heading back inside the bar while Tyler pulls out of the parking lot.
“Was that jealousy I saw back there?” Tyler asks you as he starts the drive back home.
“What?” you innocently ask as you look out the window at the land zooming by, the sun almost completely set.
“Oh, okay you want me to say it,” he teases, but you don’t turn your head.
“Still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I turned this truck around and reopened my tab with that flirty bartender then would you?”
That makes you turn your head. “I dare you, Owens.”
“So you do know what I’m talking about,” Tyler quickly glances over at you with his eyebrows raised and a playful smile on your lips, before turning his attention back to the road. He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the center console, your favorite position. Although, it seems even more attractive at the moment for some reason.
There’s no way those packets actually work.
“Just keep driving,” you mumble, crossing your arms and looking away again in the process. 
Tyler chuckles as he moves the hand on the center console onto your thigh, giving it a small squeeze. You feel warmth spread through your bottom half at the action.
Yeah, there’s no way.
“No need to get embarrassed, sweetheart. You know I love when you act like that.”
Little did you know, Tyler was feeling odd too.
When Tyler pulls in front of the house, you wait for him to open your door as always. You begin making your way to the front door, but Tyler grabs your hand and pulls you back, causing your bag to collide with the truck door. Tyler takes a step closer to you, pressing his body against yours.
“What, no thank you?” he asks, raising a playful eyebrow. 
“Like you deserve it,” you joke and make a move to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let you budge.
“Is that so?” he questions as he nudges his face into your neck. You let out a squeal as you begin feeling his fingers dig into your sides.
“Don’t you dare tickle me,” you laugh as you try to move his hands away from you.
“Why not?” he asks, his breath tickles your neck as he laughs. His fingers begin to move again.
“Tyler!” you jump. Tyler laughs again.
You place your hands onto his chest and somehow manage to pry yourself out of his hands. “Behave yourself,” you laugh.
“Sorry, darling, I wish I could,” Tyler tells as he pulls you away and gives you a look.
“What do you mean?” you ask. Tyler doesn’t answer, he just quickly looks down before looking back at you, silently telling you.
“Really?” you raise your eyebrows.
“What, you’re telling me you don’t feel anything?” he asks. 
Now it’s your turn to be silent. You feel your face heat up as you avoid his gaze and look past him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug, folding your arms across your chest. Tyler moves his head into your line of sight, giving you a look that says he knows you’re full of shit. “Okay, fine. I do. I just didn’t expect it to…y’know…actually work.”
“Neither did I, but look at us now,” Tyler says.
“What do you mean ‘us’?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking down at the bulge in his pants before looking back into his eyes. You let out a small laugh. “Seems like you have a bigger problem than me pal. No pun intended of course.”
“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” Tyler playfully rolls his eyes before tightening his grip on you. “I’m not sure why you’re laughing, though, you’re the one that’s going to help me fix this.”
“No self control, huh?” you tease, and Tyler glares down at you. “Relax, it’ll wear off soon.”
It did not wear off anytime soon.
Tyler followed you around like a lost puppy as you moved about the house. Inside the bedroom right when you were just feeling like you could control the overwhelming feeling in your lower half, Tyler came up behind you in the bathroom. 
His eyes meet yours as he wraps his arms around you and presses his front against your back, trapping you between him and the bathroom sink. The bulge in his jeans pressed against your backside, making you throb.
“How about we just cut to the chase and get this over with, huh?” Tyler whispers into your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. You can’t help but lean into his touch and subconsciously tilt your head to give him more access to your neck.
“We have to get up early in the morning. We’re meeting with everyone to discuss the potential storms, remember?” you try to remind him.
“They can just fill us in after,” Tyler mumbles as he begins to place soft kisses on your favorite area on your neck, right below your ear.
He notices the goosebumps forming on your arms as his fingers run up and down them. You feel the small smirk forming on his lips as he continues his trail of kisses on your neck. You allow your eyes to close for a moment, enjoying the sensations, before opening them and meeting his eyes through the mirror once again.
“It’s not the same, and you know it,” you tell him, your resolve quickly diminishing.
“Come on, sweetheart. You want this just as much as I do,” says Tyler.
“I don’t know,” you pretend to contemplate, “I think I’ll be okay.”
Tyler doesn’t respond. Instead, he raises a daring eyebrow at you, not believing you for a second. He knows you like the back of his hand. You just give him an innocent smile in return. 
You then begin to feel Tyler’s hands abandon your arms and land on your waist, one of them traveling further south. His fingers make their way to the waistband of the jeans you have yet to take off. Your smile fathers and your breath hitches at the ticklish feeling. His movements are purposely slow, wanting you to crack as soon as possible. 
Tyler lifts his head from your neck, so he gets a good look at your face when he asks:
“So you’re saying if I move my hand a little further down, I won’t feel your wetness soaking those pretty little panties of yours?” Tyler questions. His bold wording catches you off guard, making you shift slightly in his hold, your throat starting to feel dry. “What? Nothing to say?”
“Why don’t you find out?” you quip, somehow finding your voice again. 
Tyler gives you a knowing smile before swiftly unbuttoning your jeans and moving his hand inside, his other hand still firm on your waist. You look down and watch as he wastes no time and dips his hand into your panties, quickly bumping into your clit, making you jump. 
Tyler breathes out a laugh before continuing and easily finding the wetness he already knew was there. He runs a finger through your sticky folds, his hand trapped between your ruined panties and your pussy.
Your hands instinctively grab onto his forearms. A small moan escapes your lips as you try to keep your hips from bucking into his hand.
“Well, what do we have here?” Tyler smirks. “Just as I thought, she’s eager for me.”
You hate the fact that you love when Tyler refers to your pussy as a she.
Tyler moves his finger back up to your clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bud. You both know it’s not enough to get you off, but it’s enough to turn you on more – and it does. You let your head fall against his chest as your hands tighten on his arms. Tyler moves his head back into your neck, hovering his lips right over your ear.
“All you had to do was say something, baby. Y’know I always take care of you,” he whispers into your ear, his tone condescending.
He suddenly adds a bit more pressure to clit, causing your hips to involuntarily buck into his hand. You can feel your legs beginning to shake, the honey packet causing you to be sensitive. You bite your lip to keep the sounds rising in your throat at bay. His unoccupied hand leaves your hip and moves to your waist, keeping you against him.
“Don’t be like that, there’s no need to keep those pretty little noises away from me. All you have to do is admit that this is what you wanted this whole time and I’ll give you what you want.”
You send Tyler a glare through the mirror, causing him to chuckle, the rumble in his chest vibrating through your body. You really don’t want to give in that easily, even though your body is saying otherwise.
Tyler starts kissing behind your ear again. “You know you want to.”
Tyler removes some of the pressure on your clit, his movements turning gentle – which is the exact opposite of what you need right now. 
“Fuck, okay. Fine,” you breathe out.
“Okay what?” Tyler smirks, pretending to be confused.
“Fuck you,” you tell him through gritted teeth.
Tyler’s voice drops an octave. “Oh, darling, I will. As soon as you tell me what I want to hear.”
Your body betrays you, allowing a shiver to run through you.
“This is what I wanted,” you mumble.
“Sorry, what was that?” Tyler asks.
“This is what I wanted!” you repeat louder this time.
“I don’t like the attitude in your voice, but I’ll let it slide,” Tyler tells you.
He pulls away and removes his hands from your panties, sticking the wet fingers into his mouth. You slightly frown at the loss of his touch, your body suddenly feeling  cold.
“Let’s get started then,” he gives you his charming smile, which at the moment makes you want to slap him, before bending and lifting you into his arms. You let out a small yelp as your feet leave the ground.
He carries you into the bedroom and tosses you onto the bed. The two of you can’t seem to undress fast enough, tugging and tossing articles of clothing here and there. You’re pretty sure he tossed his shirt perfectly into the hamper in the far corner of the room, but at the moment you don’t care.
Tyler moves to hover his naked body over you, quickly attaching his lips to yours. It’s rough and needy, neither of you wanting to pull away for air. Both of you are panting. He shoves his tongue through your lips, haphazardly moving around your mouth. 
You pull away just a tad to wrap your lips around his tongue, gently sucking. Tyler’s hardened cock twitches against your abdomen as he breathes out a moan. Your lips curve into a smile at the noise. His hips begin to grind against yours, allowing you to feel the precum dripping from his slit onto your abdomen.
Tyler pulls away and moves his lips to your collarbone. He begins a trail of kisses, going through the valley between your breasts, stopping to give each nipple some love, before continuing on his way. Your back arches into his touch and you feel yourself throb as heat blooms in your stomach.
He goes all the way down your body, pulling your legs down with him as he kneels in front of the bed, coming face to face with your center. He grunts as he gives his poor, leaking cock a few tugs. 
“Y’know, we could’ve been doing this 20 minutes ago, but you wanted to play games,” Tyler tells you, his breath hitting your exposed pussy as he speaks. 
You go to rebuttal, but words instantly leave your mouth as Tyler runs a finger through your dripping folds, then spreads your lips apart for better access. A whine leaves your lips instead as your hips buck towards his face. He gently blows air onto your sensitive pussy, causing you to involuntarily clench around nothing and your body to jerk. Tyler notices and smiles to himself at the sight, deciding to do it once more for the hell of it. Your body jerks again.
“Look who’s playing games now,” you point out, holding your body up with your elbows in order to get a good view of him. Your expression is mixed with frustration and desperation.
Tyler chuckles, his eyes never leaving your pussy. “Not for long.”
With that, he dives into you, dragging his tongue through your lips. He quickly dips the tip of his tongue inside of you before pulling back out and attaching his lips to your clit. Your fingers dig into the blanket beneath you, your mouth falling open in a gasp as his tongue flicks against the sensitive bud. Tyler’s grip on you tightens when he feels your hips buck into his face once again. 
Your head tilts back in pleasure as he continues his movements. Feeling your arms about to give out, you let your back sink into the mattress and allow your eyes to close. He can’t help but grind his hips against the bed, needing something to alleviate the overwhelming pressure running through his cock.
Tyler pushes his face further into you as he feels his own orgasm quickly approaching. He moans into your pussy and continues to grind his hips against the bed. Your thighs tighten around his head and your legs tremble a little as you feel the vibrations from his body travel through yours.  
He knows he’s not going to last long, but he doesn’t try to stop himself. His cum spurts out and onto the side of the bed, dripping onto the floor beneath him. His fingers tighten on your thighs as he finishes, his cock barely softening.
His climax remains unknown to you, too lost in the depths of pleasure. After a couple more minutes of your whining and your hips grinding into his face, he decides to give you what you want. He slides one of his hands down and pushes a finger into you all the way to the knuckle, meeting no resistance from your welcoming body.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, your back arching.
Tyler continues to thrust his finger into, feeling your slick coat his finger, making it even easier for him to move. You feel a slight stretch as he adds another finger to the mix, plunging his fingers deep inside of you. You reach a hand down and allow your fingers to tangle in his hair. Tyler hums out a moan when you give his scalp a small tug. 
When Tyler notices your orgasm approaching, he quickens the pace of his fingers. The change of pace allows you to hear just how drenched you really are. The sound of your wet squelching echoes through your ears as he curls his fingers and finds your sweet spot.
“Oh god,” you whimper, your back going into a deep arch.
Tyler releases your clit from his lips and replaces them with the thumb from his unoccupied hand. His lips glisten from your arousal as he rubs tight circles into you in time with the rhythm of his fingers in your tight walls. He glances up at your face and smirks at the reaction he’s able to pull from you. 
Tyler feels your walls beginning to clench repeatedly around his fingers, signaling your orgasm. His fingers speed up inside you even more, constantly hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. 
You feel that final wave of intense pleasure run through you, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you come undone. His fingers don’t slow down, though, he continues the movement until he sees that clear liquid gush out of you. It soaks his fingers even more, dripping down his arm and some hits him in the chest.
“There you go,” Tyler mumbles, keeping his eyes on your gushing pussy.
You cry out as you feel yourself squirt, the liquid running your thighs and onto the blanket beneath you. When you notice him not letting up on his thrusts, you let out a squeal and try to pull away. 
“Ty! Baby!” you wail, immediately feeling yourself being thrown into another orgasm. Tyler chuckles as he watches you squirm. 
When that second orgasm arrives, it hits much harder than the first one, making your body clamp up as you feel yourself squirt once more. Tears begin to form in your waterline from the overstimulation. 
“S-shit,”  you stammer. Your voice is high pitched and much weaker than it was a few seconds ago. 
Tyler smiles proudly at his work and decides to pull his fingers out. His cock jumps as he looks down at his body covered in your arousal. 
You try to catch your breath as you slowly climb backwards towards the headboard, your thighs still twitching.
“What’s wrong, darling? Where are you going?” Tyler innocently asks as he climbs up onto the bed. His voice is deep and raspy as he speaks, the way it always gets at a time like this. He grabs you by your ankles and pulls you back down a couple of inches as he hovers over you.
“Y’know, I’m actually really glad Boone gave us those honey packets. What about you?” Tyler asks he situates himself between your thighs. He wraps his hand around his cock and begins to lightly stroke himself. He groans and tosses his head back for a second, a bit sensitive from his orgasm. He quickly returns his attention back to you.
Despite the two orgasms Tyler just ripped out of you, you feel yourself getting turned on again. You gulp as you watch the sight in front of you unfold, your mouth beginning to water.
Oh, no.
“Nothing to say?” he smirks and begins to run his cock through your sore folds.
You tremble as he moves against you, not being able to stop yourself from moving your hips along with his motions. 
“Who knew they actually worked?” you try to laugh, but immediately get cut off by Tyler sliding into you. He moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you close and caging you in between him and the mattress.
Your mouth falls open and your eyes widen. Your lip quivers and your eyes flutter close at the stretch of him pushing until the hilt.
“Fuck,” Tyler rasps at the feeling of your warm walls contracting around him. He clenches his jaw as a chill runs through his body, needing to close his eyes to gather himself. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how good you feel.”
All you can do is whimper in response. You open your eyes to meet him already looking back down at you. His lips have transformed back into the irritating smirk.
Looks like you’re going to be stuck here for a while, might as well get comfortable.
Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)
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infamous-if · 8 months ago
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✭INFAMOUS UPDATE IS HERE ✭
238K -> 457K WORDS
Please read this post before playing! It's finally here! After five months of writing and rewriting and salvaging and crying and sweating and bleeding I finally finished sort of kind of! Firstly, I want to thank you for your patience and understanding over this duration of this rewrite. It was stressful at times but I'm happy with the end result and I hope everyone else will be too :)
This will be the last chapter I release without beta testers/other sets of eyes so expect errors. I can playtest until my fingers turn blue but I'm just one person </3 I'm bound to have missed stuff.
Please let me know of errors! I tested it a few times with no problems but we know how it goes lol
IN THIS CHAPTER THREE UPDATE:
drama
mayhem
chaos
some betrayal
some surprises
just...read it lmao
PROLOGUE - CHAPTER 2 CHANGES:
**chapter two was too large of a file to upload on dd so I had to split it last minute and I uhhhh dont know how that translates in the demo but it should work lol please let me know if its wonky!**
fixed up grammatical errors and typos
expanded some scenes and added some more choices
you can now choose that your mc has "changed" in some way (drinking, no longer drinking, partier, no longer a partier, negative, positive, attached, detached, or a general default. I was asked to add an MC who "gets around" or hookups a lot but I'm still debating on whether I'll add that since there's already quite a bit lolol)
you can choose to have changed your band's genre before/after seven
TECHNICAL CHANGES:
you will be able to explicitly state your sexuality in the beginning. this was a big ask and I apologize for not doing it earlier! I wasn't good at coding when I started and I knew I always wanted to make the genders separate from MC's sexuality but I didn't know how to do that at the start :) So you can still choose the genders of the ROs for story purposes and variety. IF YOU DO NOT SEE ROMANCE OPTIONS THAT IS NOT A BUG. You simply chose a RO gender that doesn't correlate with the sexuality you chose for your MC. Having said that, if you do see a romance option available and it's not supposed to be there please let me know! That means I may have missed it coding-wise.
the stats have been all fixed! I've added all the necessary variables and such. The stat portion of the game has been updated with the appropriate pages but they're not finished. Still, the stats should be fine.
You will now have confessionals in the stat page! The feature still isn't a thing yet because I haven't come up with the confessionals lolol but you can click on it to see what it's about. Essentially, as you progress through the story you will be able to see confessionals from the cast of Infamous throughout. They disappear and appear periodically so if you miss it, THAT'S IT! You won't get a chance to see them again until MC watches an episode where it's relevant.
There is now a: Discography page, Infamous wiki, botb cast and staff page, and other characters page for organization. Those are not finished but they're there!
I changed a few stat names but their functions remain the same.
You will be able to choose how you would like to be described (masculine, feminine, neither, both).
O is officially gender-selectable.
You can set the genders of the ROs at the start or wait till you meet them.
PLAY HERE
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skzdarlings · 8 months ago
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everything ; skz ; werewolf!felix x reader
requested by @yongbbokkie: if possible, can I have Sunshine!Felix with the prompt/s: ❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜ and ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜
((maybe it's a pining from afar situation and something puts them in close quarters and Felix just can't help himself anymore))
read on ao3
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pairing: lee felix/reader content info: werewolf!au. friends2lovers. miscommunication and misunderstandings followed by resolution and smut. mentions of reader being in a past abusive relationship though the circumstances are not detailed. not omegaverse just werewolves but mentions of rut cycles and slightly different physiology.
this is, um, the wettest thing i've ever written. there is no other word for it. so much come, masturbating (reader walks in on felix), pervy masturbating using reader's stuff lol, massive breeding kink, multiple rounds, scenting, possessiveness, throat-grabbing, biting, pussy eating, squirting, dirty talk. did i mention come.
word count: 15800 words. (hope it makes up for the delay hehe)
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy <3
-
For a few moments, Felix is yours.  There is no awkwardness, no reluctance, just dancing, just friendship. 
The club is packed so tightly, the lights and music as roaring as lightning and thunder.  The extra stimulation overwhelms the senses, even werewolf senses.  He doesn’t think and neither do you.  You just dance, finding each other in the bouncing circle of your half-drunk friend group.  He smiles and you take his hand, letting him pull you across the dance floor and into his arms. 
You’ve missed this smile.  You’ve missed these arms.   
Sure, Felix is still your best friend and he is never truly far.  The distance is not literal, just emotional, and that is so much worse. 
Ever since his werewolf genes kicked in, ever since a pack took him in, things have just been… different. 
Right now, you can pretend nothing has changed.  You are far away from ivory moons waning over woodlands, of werewolf packs and supernatural powers.  His senses are diluted here, overpowered by so many moving bodies and so much wild noise. 
Felix smiles, that wonderful big smile that crinkles his eyes so sweetly.  Lights flash over him, his blonde hair nearly glowing, his freckles like stars.  He’s your best friend again.  All yours for a few precious moments. 
He’s bigger than he was, you think, with a bit of a flush, as you dance closer to him, his arms circling your body.  Or maybe I just never noticed before. 
Felix is not very tall, but he is not small either, lean and athletic and confident in every inch of his body.  It feels like he is everywhere.  Every time a strobe light flashes over him, he seems a little closer.  You breathe in his cologne, subtler than it used to be because his sense of smell is so powerful now, but still recognizable. 
You are definitely not a werewolf, but you are captivated by that smell.  Something oak, woodsy, masculine but pretty.   So very Felix.  You want to bathe in that smell, luxuriate in him.  You spent so many nights curled into his side, sharing his bed, wearing one of his hoodies, that you associate that scent with everything good, safe, and home. 
His hands dance up your sides very softly, his breath puffing across your cheek as you dance and dance.  One song pours into the next.  You lose track of time.  In forgetting the world, you forget yourself.   You slide your arms around his shoulders and press close to him. 
You used to hug him like this so easily, but you have hardly touched him at all the last few months.  Felix could never be cruel to anyone so he has not outright rejected your usual closeness, but it is obvious that your touch now makes him uncomfortable.  The last thing you ever, ever want to do is hurt Felix.   So you have followed his lead.  Every time he accidentally pulls a face –  a displeased twitch of his nose, an upset furrow of his brow – you have backed away.   
It’s just the werewolf senses, you keep telling yourself.  He’s more sensitive now, that’s all. 
He still hugs the others.  The werewolf boys love rough-housing, in fact, tumbling all over each other constantly.
That’s different.  Yes, very different than this, right here, right now, his hands sliding down your sides – slowly, like he is memorizing the shape of your waist.  He squeezes your hips and it fills you with heat.  His hot face touches yours, cheek to cheek.  The music is pounding, a frantic sound, but you are slow dancing, keeping to the rhythm of your heartbeats where they beat against each other. 
You slide a hand up the back of his neck, into his long blonde hair.  You feel the shudder move through his whole body.   It makes your legs feel weak, realizing the effect you have on him.  It seems impossible, especially with how much he has pushed you away, but there is no way he is shivering for any other reason.  He cannot possibly be cold.  The club is packed and, besides, he is not human.  He runs hot. 
So hot.  He radiates it, burning where your bodies press together.  Felix has always been the sunshine that keeps you warm, but this is a different heat.  You know better than to succumb to it, knowing this moment will pass, but right now it is so easy to cling to him, to breathe him in, to feel like the world is just you and him. 
The real world soon returns.  It’s getting late so your friends call it a night. 
“We’ll drop you off, yeah?” Chan says to you.  Felix lives with him and the other wolves now.  They all have their own apartments but they live in the same high-rise.  You live a few blocks down, close, but not quite belonging. 
“I don’t mind walking,” you say. 
You do not want to intrude and you do not want to make Felix uncomfortable.  He doesn’t even know Chan is offering you a ride because he standing so far away. 
Felix is looking at his phone, slouched against the car while everyone organizes themselves.  He is wearing a leather jacket, a white shirt, blue jeans, his long hair falling into his face.  You want to brush it back, feel it between your fingers.  You want to lift his face and see his smile.    
But he doesn’t look at you.  Now that you are outside, now that the heat has dissipated and the cold breeze carries your bland, dull, human scent, now that he can remember you are not special and not like him – now, he is someone else, and you are too, and it is cold and dreary and miserable. 
“What?”  Chan says.  He is such a good pack leader and a good friend, but it makes him utterly oblivious to little dramas like this.  “You’re not walking by yourself this late at night, don’t be crazy.  Come on.” 
The pack leader does not take no for an answer.  Even though you are not in the pack, being human, there is no refusing Bang Chan.  He grabs you by the wrist and drags you to his car. 
Jeongin is in the front seat.  Seungmin takes a back corner before Felix can lift his head, before he even knows you will be in the car too. 
Felix looks tense when realizes he is trapped with you.   Whether he takes the middle seat or the other corner, you will be beside him.  If standing together outside is so intolerable, then being in a car is going to be torturous.  
“I can walk,” you say to him. 
“What?”  He shakes his head.  When he smiles, it is not his usual smile, not something real.  You know the difference.  His proper smile brightens you but this smile makes your heart sink.  “Of course not,” he says.  “C’mon.  It’s late.  Let’s get home, yeah?”   
“Yeah,” you say, but he is already gone, taking all sense of home with him.   
You take the middle seat.  Felix rolls his window down and leans towards it.  His eyes are closed the entire journey, the wind blowing across his tired face. 
Seungmin is also a werewolf but he does not seem bothered by your human scent.  Jeongin and Chan, the other packmates, likewise seem indifferent, chatting about everything and nothing, totally unperturbed.   And you must cross paths with many werewolves during the day, but no one ever seems bothered by you. 
Felix is the only werewolf who seems to have a problem with your scent.  You do not know what it is that affects him so deeply.  You have tried changing soaps and shampoos but nothing seems to help.  It must be something natural to your human body.  Humans do not smell like werewolves in general.  Werewolves release pheromones that humans cannot smell, and it is important in forging interpersonal dynamics.  That includes romance.  Werewolves mate for life.  You know they find their true mates through smell as much as the other senses.  They are biologically wired to pursue their perfect match based on all those senses. 
You are not a werewolf.  You can never be his true mate.  In the few months since he fully and rapidly developed his werewolf senses, Felix has withdrawn from you even though he promised it would never separate you. 
You used to talk about what would happen if his werewolf genes activated.  He comes from a family of werewolves but the gene lays dormant in certain carriers.  Most werewolves develop in puberty if they develop at all.  Some people never develop their wolven senses or powers.  A minority, like Felix, are triggered by something in adulthood and succumb all at once. 
It was always a possibility, however minute, but he promised things would stay the same.  He said you were his person, that best friend did not even suffice as a word to describe your love.
You’re my world, you know, he said one night, speaking with the sort of earnest sincerity that only Felix could, his deep voice rumbling in your ear as you cuddled into him.     
You wanted to say it back but you were hurting at the time.  You ended a bad relationship a year earlier.  It took your tender heart far too long to realize how badly your ex-boyfriend was treating you.  When Felix found out the details, he was furious, though he kept it down around you.  You had never seen your best friend so emotional.  He became even more protective in the aftermath. 
He showed you, time and time again, what real love is supposed to be.  It doesn’t rush or demand, it doesn’t manipulate or coerce, and it doesn’t ask you to be small.  He would hold you all night if that’s what you needed.  He would make you laugh and let you cry. 
You slowly realized true love had been in front of you, all this time, begging to be seen. 
At least, you thought so.   After such a bad relationship, you were taking it slow, and Felix never rushed you.  You thought, maybe, one day…
But just when you were ready, everything changed.  The werewolf gene unexpectedly activated.  Felix was admitted to a wolven hospital and underwent his first transformation under a full moon.  When he came home, he was different.   Sure, he was still Felix, with his long dyed hair and his many freckles and his sun-kissed skin, but his brown eyes were so very different when he looked at you. 
If he looked at you, which he avoids these days.     
“Home sweet home,” Chan says, parking the car outside your apartment building. 
Felix wastes no time getting out of the vehicle, practically spilling onto the sidewalk in his haste.   He holds the door for you but averts his gaze. 
You thank Chan, say good night to the other boys, then you shuffle across the seat and step out of the car.   Felix still does not look at you, pretending he is distracted with something across the street. 
You are a little tipsy, your emotions easily riled.  You want to say good night so it will finally prompt him to look at you, but you are suddenly very choked up.  Thoughtlessly, you touch his arm instead.
He flinches.  It feels worse than a slap.
You do not look at him again, hurrying to the building before he can see the tears in your eyes. 
Miraculously, you hold them in until you reach your apartment.  You are one foot in the doorway when the tears spill, all the emotions you’ve suppressed over the last few months finally flooding free.  The door falls closed with a slam and the whole world collapses under you.
You drop right there, knees pulled up to your chest and face buried in your hands. 
You spent so many nights like this, crying all alone until you worked up the courage to tell Felix about your bad relationship.  He was immediately understanding.  It was so foolish to fear he would ever judge you.  He put an arm around you and held you all night.
He is the person you want to call when you are hurting.  It is agonizing to be without him.  He is the one person you need and the one person you cannot call right now. 
You let yourself feel sorry and miserable.  When the tears have subsided and you are slouched against your door, empty and tired, you make a decision to end this.  You have spent too much of your life collapsed on the floor and crying on your lonesome.  You refuse to do it again. 
As horrible as it is, you need to distance yourself from Felix.  This slow deterioration of your relationship is excruciating.   If he decides to reach out, you will be there, but you simply cannot continue to compromise yourself. 
You somehow manage to wash up and get in bed.   You sleep through the morning and rise late, delaying the inevitable a little longer by scrolling on your phone.  Felix used to be the first text of the day but there is nothing from him.  You would usually message anyway but today you put your phone aside and get out of bed. 
So much of Felix is in your apartment.  Borrowed hoodies, games, books, and so much more.  Items are littered everywhere from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen and back.   It takes an hour and you are not sure you find everything because he is so inextricably woven into your living space.  You do not even see it anymore because it – because he – is always there. 
You fill a cardboard box.  Your plan is to walk the couple blocks to the high-rise and return it with a vague explanation.  You are not sure what to say.  Perhaps it is best to opt for brevity.  After all, this is not a break-up because you are not a couple. 
No, you think, staring at the full box with watery eyes, this is worse. 
You make it a few steps out your door before you drop the box.  It is way, way too heavy for you to carry two feet, never mind two city blocks.  Already panting with exertion, you stare at the box taking up a huge slab of the narrow corridor. 
You really don’t want to ask him to come get it, nor do you want to make multiple trips.  You are scared that if you give him the opportunity, he will try and reassure you that nothing is wrong and you don’t need to do this.  You’ll believe him in the moment, but then it will start all over again.  
Like ripping off a bandage, it has to go all at once.  It’s time to heal. 
You push the box, budging it down the corridor inch by slow inch.  You reach the elevator and press the call button.   You calculate the logistics of pushing and shoving the box for two blocks, mostly concerned the cardboard will rip if it snags on something outside. 
Lost in thought, you don’t see a person in the elevator and accidentally shove the box at him.  He yelps, a loud cry of surprise as he jumps aside.  It makes you leap out of your skin, shooting upright to look at him. 
Some of your despondency leaves at the friendly face of your neighbour.
“Changbin!” you say.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t even see you there.”
“Hey now,” he says, winking, his handsome face plastered with a grin, “I’m not that short.” 
“No, of course not,” you say, laughing along with him. 
Changbin is a werewolf as well.  There are a lot of packs on this side of town because the large national park is nearby.   The wolves like to use the expansive forest when the full moon cycle swings around. 
“Moving out?” he asks with an eyebrow quirk.
“Ah,” you say.  “Not quite.”
You explain your predicament, that the box belongs to a friend and you need to somehow reach his apartment building two blocks away.  Changbin, ever the charmer and ever the helper, immediately offers his aid. 
“Oh, you don’t have to—” you start, but he has already swung the big box into his arms.
Werewolves do have supernatural strength.  Changbin looks strong, with big biceps and a stocky frame, never mind the supernatural enhancement.   He doesn’t even break a sweat.  The box might as well be empty for all the difference it makes to him.
He is kind enough to walk two blocks to the high-rise.  You chat on the way and find the conversation flows easily.   You also can’t help but notice he has no problem with your scent.  It really is just Felix who seems so repulsed. 
You ring the buzzer for Felix’s apartment but there is no answer.  You try a couple more times, embarrassed because Changbin is waiting.  Fortunately, he is very non-plussed, humming to himself while you ring the buzzer. 
After a few tries, you ring Chan instead.  He answers promptly and you explain the bare bones of the situation, that you have a box for Felix and you would appreciate if he could pass it along.   Chan agrees, of course. 
Maybe it is for the best. You can leave the box with Chan and not even have to confront Felix at all.   
Chan buzzes you into the building.  Changbin walks you to the elevator where he puts the box down.  You thank him profusely but he waves it off and states he was happy to help. 
It looks like he wants to say something more, looking at you while he rubs the back of his neck.   In the end, he says he will see you around and departs.
You exhale.  The worst of your nerves have dissipated since Felix is not even home.  You have been the one instigating your interactions the last few months so you figure if you just quietly step back, he won’t even notice. 
It pains you to admit it, that you could disappear from his life and he would just… not care.  You stuff those feelings down, down, down for now.  You prepare a friendly smile for Chan so he doesn’t ask too many questions. 
When you reach the pack floor, you give the box a good shove into the corridor.   Chan lives directly across from the elevator so you don’t have far to go.
Except there are voices in the corridor.  You turn towards the sound. 
An awful chill freezes in your blood, your whole body going rigid at what you see. 
Felix is home.  He is standing in his open doorway, half-dressed in a pair of jeans and nothing more.  His long hair looks more dishevelled than usual, like someone has been running their fingers through it. 
Someone.  He is talking to a young woman.  You don’t know her too well, simply that she is the only female werewolf in Chan’s small pack.  She is wearing more clothes than Felix but still very casual in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot like this is her home.   You suppose it is, much more her home than yours.   
She belongs.  You do not. 
Her and Felix are standing close while they converse.  So close.  They speak to each other in hushed tones, her expression tender and sympathetic while Felix winces in seeming pain.  The details of their conversation are inarticulate at a distance but their voices are nonetheless audible. 
Your scent reaches Felix first.  He straightens so fast it would be comical under any other circumstances. 
Nothing is funny right now.  You feel like a complete and utter fool, standing in his corridor with a box of his things like he cares about them at all.  He has already moved on.  You were in denial, a stupid little human girl still clinging desperately to old memories.   
“I better go,” the woman says.  She leans up and kisses Felix on the cheek, gives him a little wink and mumbles something only he can hear.   She turns and walks into the apartment next door, giving you a genuinely friendly wave.  She has always been polite to you and you have no reason to dislike her.  You can only wave back pathetically. 
Your hand slaps your side when she disappears into her apartment.  You and Felix look at each other. 
He looks guilty.  Sweat dots his hairline, streaks his bare chest, and his face is flushed.  It is very obvious what he has been doing all morning.  
The thought of such a fantasy was once tantalizing.  The sight of him, like this, would make you dizzy. You remember the last time he casually took off his shirt, the swoop of desire that moved inside you, a sensation you did not even know you could still feel after your bad relationship.
Now that swoop is just nausea.  There is no pleasure in it at all.   
You are completely mortified. 
“Hey,” Felix says.   His deep voice breaks on a high-pitched twinge.  He clears his throat.   “Um,” he says.  He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more.   He can’t seem to bring himself to meet your gaze, eyes darting all over the corridor but never you.
You curl your fingers, nails pressing hard into your palm. 
“Look,” he says, clearing his throat again.  “We need to talk about—”
You don’t want to hear it.  You can’t hear it.  You are hurt and embarrassed and devastated.  Why couldn’t he just tell you he wanted to pursue a werewolf?  It makes sense, biologically, and you can hardly fault him for the desire.   Honesty would have hurt but not like this.  Now you have to suffer the rejection of the only man you ever truly loved and suffer the fact you were not even worth a conversation. 
It is too late to talk.    
“It’s fine, Felix,” you say.  All your messy, menial scripts crumble in your mind.  Emotion takes over, bitterness and pain and irritation.   “I brought you your things,” you say, pointing to the box.  His eyes dart there for the first time, brow furrowing.  “If I find anymore, I’ll give them to Chan.  He’ll pass them along.”
“Um, what?”  He looks from the box to you. 
“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, blinking back tears.  Your feelings come out in fragments, word after word with little coherency.  “After everything I went through last year – I just – this is too much.  The werewolf thing – I just – I can’t.  I’m sorry.  I can’t have you in my life like this.  Thank you for your friendship.  The memories will always be important to me.  But it’s for the best we don’t see each other again.”
You had not planned on so much finality, but that was before.  Now you need to leave.  If you stay here another second, you are going to fall apart. 
“Good luck with everything,” you say. 
You turn to leave but he says your name.  You suck in a breath, wait a beat, and slowly turn back around. 
Felix walks partway down the hallway, his whole face screwed up with pain and confusion.  His mouth is moving but no words are coming out.  Finally he closes his eyes and shakes his head, slamming a hand into his hair. 
“Hold on,” he says.  “Hold on, I – what are you talking about?  You – you don’t want to be friends?  How can – You can’t—”  That deep voice breaks again, fracturing with emotion. 
A part of you knows that you are being too harsh, letting your own emotions dominate your words.  Another part of you is too heartbroken to care. 
“It’s for the best,” you say weakly, your voice barely more than a breath of a sound.  “Really.” 
“For the best?” he asks, voice pitching up again.   He has not looked at you so intensely for so long.  “How can you say that to me?”
Much to your horror, he starts crying first.  His tears seem to catch him by surprise too, his expression puckering as he tries to stop it.  A hand flies up, covering his eyes.  He shakes his head rapidly. 
“Felix,” you whisper. 
“For the best?” he repeats.  He drops his hand and takes a shuddering breath. 
You avert your gaze.  You can’t stand to look at his eyes so full of tears, his face so strained with hurt. 
“Did something happen?” he asks, taking a few more steps towards you.  “Was it – was it me?  You said – the werewolf thing –  Did I do something?  Please, please tell me.”
He doesn’t even realize how much he has withdrawn from you.  He is bad at controlling his face, as evidenced now, so he probably has no idea how blatant his repulsion has been.   Maybe he thought he was being subtle.  Maybe he thought you wouldn’t care, that you were just his friend and you would be content to relegate yourself to the sidelines of his life.  Maybe that is all your fault after all. 
If you were a better friend, you would have coped with his new feelings.  You would have been happy for him.  If you were a better friend, maybe he would have told you sooner. 
“You deserve a better friend than me,” you say. 
He looks at you like you are completely crazy, his head tilted, his eyes narrowing. 
“What?” he asks.  “Where is this coming from?  Please, I don’t understand.  You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.” 
“I already told you,” you say, as calmly as you can.  “I just can’t do this anymore.  Our lives are heading in different directions and I – I – I just need to go.  I want to go.  Please.” 
You have known Felix all your life.  You were children together, hapless youths on a playground that immediately loved each other with the easy, thoughtless affection of childhood. 
He reminds you of that child now, innocently standing in the corridor with his arms hanging limp at his sides and so much bewilderment on his freckled face. 
“You want to go?” he repeats, voice low, soft.  
You nod.  After a second, he nods back, bottom lip still quivering.  A fresh stream of tears spill over his eyes.  He hiccups on a sob, turning away and covering his face.
“Fine,” he says, speaking between shaky breaths.  “Go.  I can’t – I can’t keep you here if you want to go.” 
“Thank you,” you say softly.  The elevator is still waiting when you press the call button.  You step onto it and say, “Good bye, Felix.” 
As the doors close, you hear another choking sob.  You name is lost in the sound.    
The door closes. 
-
The regret is instantaneous.  You stare at your phone for hours and even debate returning to his apartment, but in the end you do nothing. 
You replay every moment, from seeing him with the other werewolf to his confusion and your departure.  It was a long, long walk home, tears streaming down your face as your mind went back even further, remembering every moment of your friendship. 
How could this have happened?  You and Felix have always been open with each other.  He was the first person you confided in about your bad relationship and he immediately did everything to save you from it.  But when it was the other way around, when the werewolf gene activated, he turned away from your friendship.  You poured your heart out to him, trusting he would catch it and keep it safe, but he did not feel the same way. 
Secrets, confusion, heartbreak.  It plays on a loop in your mind. 
It is the middle of the night when you get a text.  He has not messaged in a while, not in a substantial way.  If you scroll back on your phone, you can see the disintegration of communication, the days when he would send message after message with any and every thought slowly petering down to brief replies and a vague acknowledgement at the very best. 
This message is more.  You can hear his voice when you read it, can picture those dark eyes. 
Tell me this isn’t real.  Please. 
You feel sick.  You are angry at him for being the one to withdraw only to suddenly turn on his heel.  You are angry at yourself for reacting so drastically and immaturely.   Mostly, you are just sad. 
If I did something, I’m sorry, he writes.  I’ll never stop being sorry.  I’ll fix it.  I’ll keep my distance.  Just don’t say I can never see you again. 
You type a reply, then delete it, then repeat.  
You say nothing. Every time you try, you see him and her in that corridor, you see him flinching from your touch, you see him recoiling at your scent.  It twists and tangles with memories of warm nights and tender smiles.  You wipe your tears and remember when he did it for you, his thumb so gently sweeping your cheek.  He used to touch you like you were precious to him.  Now he flinches from your touch.    
He does not text the next day, or the day after, or the day after that.   You are not sure if it is better or worse. 
After about a week, he messages again, stating, I miss you.   
You are at your work desk but he immediately seizes your full attention, as he always has. 
You stare at your phone.  You take a breath.   You have had a few days to decompress, to let the wound bleed.  It is still sore to the touch. 
You write, I miss you too. 
You do not check your phone for a while, listening to the relentless buzz as he sends eager message after eager message.  It feels like the old days for a minute, but slows to a stop when you do not reply.  You read them back later, his pleading, his sweetness.  It makes you spiral, on the one hand wanting to take it all back, but on the other hand picturing his flinch, his disgust, knowing it is only a matter of time before your heart breaks again. 
You do not reply.  He takes the hint and gives you a few more days, then he messages, I still have your stuff in my place too, you know? 
I know, is all you say.  I have more of your stuff too.
As predicted, you have been finding his things all over the apartment.   Even things which are technically yours are still stamped with his memory.  He helped you move into this place after the break-up.  He took you shopping and paid for so many things to get you back on your feet.  Everything from blankets to cushions to plates make you think of him.   This was just a room before he made it a home.  Without him, it is just a room again. 
There are a couple days of silence, then some of his packmates start messaging you.  You don’t think he is sending them after you, as Felix would never manipulate or coerce you like that.  They reach out of their own volition, curious because they have not seen you in a while.  But it is all so overwhelming, so you throw your phone under a pillow and go for a walk.
That is when you run into Changbin again.   His smile is charming as ever when he strikes up a friendly conversation.   
“I was wondering,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, not-so-inadvertently flexing his big bicep when he does, “I was going to ask a couple weeks ago, when I helped you with that box – ah, I was kicking myself after because I didn’t see you for a while.  But – I thought we had a nice conversation.  Maybe you and me could do something.”
“Do something,” you repeat.  It sounds like he is asking you out which is a little perplexing, because he is a werewolf and you are a human.  Surely nothing serious can come of it.  You used to think it was possible, as there are plenty of movies and romance novels to prove it, but your personal experience has led you to other conclusions.    
“A date,” he clarifies, grinning that handsome smile.  “You and me.  My treat.  No pressure.  I just think you’re clever and, ah, very beautiful, and I want to know you better.” 
A polite rejection is on the tip of your tongue.  You are not in any emotional state to try dating someone right now.   But you think of Felix and that woman in the corridor, and you think of your phone buzzing, and you think of another long, lonely night stewing in it all.   
Changbin must be looking for something casual anyway.  A werewolf would not truly settle down with a human.  Maybe this is a good opportunity to put yourself out there. 
“Sure,” you say.  “I’d like that.” 
Changbin takes you out a few days later.  You actually do enjoy yourself.  He is very charming and it is easy to talk to him, plus the date itself is very fun.  He takes you out for food then to an arcade, flopping at every game in a hilarious spectacle.  
“I’m a werewolf,” he complains later.  “I’m strong!  Those games were rigged.” 
You giggle, wrapping yourself up in the jacket he leant you.  You are walking back to the apartment building, the warm evening giving way to a cool night as you make the trek.   It is enjoyable until you reach the building, at which point you start to panic.  Does he expect to be invited into your apartment?  Does he expect… more?  The thought leaves you dizzy and not in a good way.  Changbin is so very handsome and so very likable.  Going out with him showed you that you can enjoy yourself without the crutch of a lifelong friendship. 
You don’t need Felix. 
But you still want him. 
You try to go back and find the moment it all went wrong, try to picture a different ending, but it feels impossible.  A foolish fantasy from a girl still clinging to the dying dredges of hope and affection.  There is a wonderful, handsome man at your side, a werewolf at that, and your mind is somewhere else. 
Changbin remarks on it, politely but nonetheless curiously.  He gives you a penetrating look, like he knows something is wrong and there is no use lying. 
You sigh. 
“I’m sorry,” you say.  “I just… I recently broke-up with a friend.”
“With a friend?” he asks, eyebrows jumping with surprise.  “What kind of friend?”
“A close one, very close,” you say.  “We’ve known each other forever, you see.  He’s the most wonderful person I have ever known.  He’s good to everyone, open-hearted, kind, warm.  I have truly never known a better man.  He just makes every room a little brighter when he’s in it.  You would like him, I think.  Everyone does.  He’s a werewolf but the transformation only happened for the first time this year.  Since then…”  You sniffle.  “Things have been different.  Werewolves are biologically wired to be with other werewolves and form packs… I think my human status just started affecting him negatively.”
“Biology,” Changbin says like it is a foreign word.  He looks at you with a cocked eyebrow.  “It exists, yeah, but werewolves still have hearts, you know?  It’s nice finding other werewolves so you aren’t alone, but it isn’t necessary.  Love is complicated.” 
That does give you pause for a moment.  A logical part of you knows it is true, that plenty of werewolves make relationships work with humans, but that is almost harder to accept.  If it’s just biological, then it cannot be helped.  But if it’s a choice—
“So he isn’t biologically wired to hate me now that he’s a werewolf,” you say miserably.  “It’s just something he chose to do.”
“Now, I didn’t say that,” Changbin says.  “But, if that is what happened, he’s an idiot.  If you were that obviously in love with me, ah, I wouldn’t let you go that easy.” 
“I’m not in love with him…”  The lie tumbles without an ounce of confidence.   Changbin just gives you an amused look.  Embarrassed, you drop your gaze.  “It doesn’t matter,” you say.  “He doesn’t feel the same way.  Believe me, I know how he’s been looking at me, or how he won’t. That’s why I walked away.  I was holding onto a friendship that once was and a fantasy that will never be.  It’s time to be reasonable.”
“Ah, I don’t think love is very reasonable,” he says.  “But you should stay true to yourself and do what’s right.  And, in the mean time, if you need a friend…”
You exchange smiles.  A weight lifts off your shoulder as Changbin changes the subject to friendship between you.
“I would like a friend,” you say.  “Thank you, Changbin.” 
“Ah, it’s been fun.  But give me back my jacket,” he teases.  “Since we’re friends I don’t need to impress you.  I’m cold.” 
 “I thought werewolves run hot,” you say, laughing.  You shrug off the coat and hand it to him. 
“Eh, a little bit, maybe more than humans.  But the blood really only gets hot during a rut cycle,” he says.
It is a casual statement.  He is too preoccupied with zipping up his jacket to notice you get a little flustered. 
You know a bit about ruts, namely that werewolves have a cycle which span a few days every month.  It’s a fertility and reproduction thing, pushing developed werewolves to find mates and, well, mate them.   It is a common part of the werewolf lifestyle so it is fair for Changbin to so casually mention it. 
It is not because of Changbin that you feel flustered.  You are thinking about Felix that night at the club, how burning hot he was compared to everyone else.  Now that you think of it, not even Chan felt so hot when he grabbed your wrist, nor Seungmin beside you in the car.  Felix, though, was radiating heat.  Was he starting a rut cycle?  Perhaps that explains why he was so hot and sweaty the next day during your confrontation. 
You remember the other werewolf in the corridor.  Your heart sinks again.  Was she helping him through his rut?  Then again, she left the second you arrived.  Why were they even in the hallway?  If she was spending his rut with him, surely they would have been inside together, not yapping in the hallway... 
“You look worried,” Changbin says. 
You are gnawing your bottom lip, eyes darting around as you contemplate that day.  At his words, you blink to attention, doing your best to shake the anxiety. 
“It’s nothing,” you say.  “I’m just confused about so many things right now.” 
“You know, if this guy really is so great and wonderful – and I think he is, if someone like you loves him so much – then he will probably be happy to answer your questions so you don’t feel so confused.” 
“Ugh.”  You slap a hand over your eyes and shake your head.  “Why do you have to be so decent and mentally competent and right?” 
“Jutdae,” he says, then flexes an arm and squeezes a bicep through the jacket.  “And lots of protein.”
You laugh again.  With a few more words of thanks and a promise to catch up again soon, you give him one final good night hug.  He says he might meet up with some friends so you part ways, Changbin strolling while you head inside. 
You look at your phone, considering his words as you ride the elevator to your floor.  Changbin is right.  Giving Felix the silent treatment is not helping you or him.  Even though the conversation will probably be uncomfortable in so many ways, you should talk to him.  It might not repair anything, but at least you will have closure.  That wound cannot heal so long as it is still bleeding and festering. 
You are drafting a text message in your head when you step off the elevator. 
Then you lift your eyes and stumble to a stop. 
Felix is sitting outside your apartment door.  He is wearing jeans and a blue flannel, a denim jacket on top of that.  A habitual joke is on the tip of your tongue, seeing him so decked out in his favourite colour.  It disappears at the morose look on his face.   
His long blonde hair is down around his shoulders, neglected black roots peeking at the crown of his head.  He looks a little wan and very tired, his head lolled to the side. 
He scents you before he sees you, eyes fluttering closed for a second, then he looks at you. 
He really looks at you. 
Felix always has such a softness in his gaze, but this look is searing.  It moves through you, a forceful heat twining its way around your insides.  It holds you in captivated thrall as he stands, one black boot thumping against the ground with the force of his push as he straightens himself out. 
That piercing looks crinkles as more of your scent registers to him.  His face twists with revulsion, except it is even more severe than usual.  It is so disturbed that it makes you think his past expressions were not disgust at all, because this face is so terrorized by whatever he smells. 
“Where were you?” he asks. 
You have been staring at each other in silence for so long that his voice reverberates loudly in the corridor.   It makes you jump as the smoothness of his deep voice pours into you.  It’s only been a few weeks since you last heard him speak, but somehow you forgot how profoundly that voice could affect you, especially when he drops it so deliberately. 
“Out,” you say.  You are so flustered that your body goes into defense mode, your tone sharp when you say, “I don’t need your permission for that.”   
That softens the slash of his gaze.  He shakes his head. 
“No,” he says softly.  “Of course not.  I’m sorry.”   
His apology is so sincere, eyes searching yours for something beyond the surface.  You feel like he is speaking to you without words, somehow conveying a lifetime of love in the way he looks at you, saying, it’s me.
You soften too, in every way, your voice and your posture, your heart and everything inside you.  So soft and malleable, all that heat expanding in every direction until you can imagine yourself radiating it like he did.  It feels so inappropriate to be aroused when there is so much drama between you, when a serious conversation needs to be had.  But he is looking at you so intensely, colours of emotions playing across his face.  A shaking breath draws your gaze to his lips. 
He says your name.  It feels like a touch.  You feel dizzy again, this time in a very good way, despite yourself.   
You hear his sharp intake of breath as you step a little closer.  Your scent is affecting him.  It makes him do a double-take, looking at you up and down without any subtlety.  It is blatant, searching.  For lack of a better word, predatory, a wolf on the prowl, scenting something it wants, maybe needs.   Your skirt is long, sweeping past your knees, but you feel like he can see past it somehow. 
His eyes, low on your body, flick up to your face.  Your knees knock.  That hungry look twists into something repulsed again, his brow furrowing.  It darkens his whole face.    
Of course.  He is disgusted with you and your boring human scent and he always has been.  You cannot give into hopeful delusions. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask in your most casual tone, striding up to him like you are unaffected by his presence. 
He steps to the side, staring while you fumble around in your purse for your keys. 
“I wanted to talk,” he says. 
You stare into your bag, rifling through mint wrappers and lipsticks and bus tickets.  You can feel his eyes, practically burning a hole in the side of your head.   You want to be chill, want to laugh and tell him he’s acting weird, to knock it off.  You want to be indifferent, remind him there is a distance between you now and his staring is not appropriate. 
Then he puts a hand on the door, near your head.  He moves around you, undeniably scenting you as he goes.  His other hand comes around the other side, caging you between him and the door.  Your back is to him but you can still feel his gaze, shivering when he breathes you in.  
You swallow, cringing at the wave of arousal that moves through you when his nose brushes the back of your neck. 
Werewolf instincts, you remind yourself, trying to find the resolve to snap him out of it, except that’s not what you want.  You want him to press right against you and put his mouth on your neck, to taste everything he is scenting. 
Until you remember he hates the scent.  So much so, he makes a guttural noise that sounds like a growl, rumbling at the base of his throat. 
You expect him to flinch and move away.  You imagine him shaking his head as he abandons his efforts to reconcile because you’re just not worth it. 
You are not expecting him to say, “Why do you smell like another werewolf?” 
“What?” you say.  “I – I don’t—”
“Yes, you do,” he says, taking another deep breath.  “It’s all over you.  Who is he?” 
Oh, you have been wearing Changbin’s jacket for the last half-hour.  You did not notice any smell but you are not a werewolf.   To Felix, you must be utterly smothered in it.   You wonder if it smells like a sex pheromone, given Changbin was taking you on a date, maybe permeating a desire your human senses did not notice. 
Whatever it is, it has Felix riled in a way you have never seen before.  He has been very careful to hold himself in check around you.  The worst of his werewolf symptoms have been hidden from the start.   It is part of why you are so hurt, that he would not trust you with it. 
Now it overrides his good sense.  His nose swipes the back of your neck again, his fingers curling against the door where his hands sit. 
“He’s just a friend,” you say. 
“A friend,” he repeats.  “He doesn’t smell like a friend.” 
“Well, he is,” you say.  All your desire, heartbreak, and desperation swell inside you, bursting like a firework, hot and crackling.  With a pounding heart, you turn around to face him, intent on confrontation when you snap, “Why would that even matter to you?” 
You look into his eyes.  He is so close, arms around you, that woodsy scent enveloping you.  It feels like coming home, falling into his gaze, letting the heat wash over you as he stares back.  There is something animalistic about his intensity, a predator with its hackles raised, sights set and hunger striking.    
“Felix,” you whisper, voice heavy with a thousand questions that never manifest. 
One hand leaves the door.  He grabs the back of your neck, not roughly, not cruelly, but with an undoubted and irrevocable command.  It makes another firework burst inside you.  You gasp. 
That gasp is interrupted when he dives in without any hesitation, his mouth thoroughly claiming yours in a hot, desperate kiss. 
Whenever you dared to fantasize a kiss with Felix, it was always soft, a little brief, giving it time to grow.  You never imagined so much heat overwhelming you all at once, that his mouth would be so ravishing.  You didn’t even know a kiss could move through your whole body, that when he puts his tongue in your mouth it would feel like he is already fucking you, your body throbbing with want. 
It is not just werewolf instinct because you react too.  You drop your purse on the floor and put your hands on him, one on his chest and the other his neck, clinging to him like he clings to you.  He takes it as invitation, his other hand leaving the door to hold your waist.  His grip is powerful, but despite the supernatural strength it does not hurt.  No, Felix would never hurt you.  Oh, it was so stupid to think he ever would. 
He makes a sound that has you whimpering in turn, the low grunt pressing at your most vulnerable places.  The kiss is open-mouthed, hot and wet and messy. 
He walks you back that final step, pressing you to the door.  He cups the back of your head so you don’t hit it.
You grab the collar of his denim jacket and yank on it, pulling him even closer.  You are completely delirious with him. Everything that has happened and everything that will happen is wholly unimportant as he slots his whole body along yours. 
His leg pushes between your thighs, his hips pinning you to the door.  The thought would have you terrified a year ago, but now it just feels right.  Of course it feels right, because this is Felix, who has seen you at your most vulnerable and healed you, who has caught you every time you fall.  He will always fix what hurts.  He will always take care of you. 
Your body knows it, begging for him, hips rearing towards him.  It presses his thigh against the juncture between your legs, makes it so your flimsy skirt doesn’t matter at all.  You are not thinking when you start to rock against him. 
You forgot your body could feel so much pleasure. 
“Oh, fuck—” he says, his already deep voice somehow even lower as he curses.  
You squeak as he holds you against the door, deliberately rocking his thigh between yours with more pressure and speed than you could manage.  It makes a torrent of mortifying sounds spill past your lips, but he gathers them all up lovingly, tastes them on his tongue as he chases down your gasping breath.  Every little mewl, every breath, every squeaking hiccup is swallowed up by him. 
“Come for me, please,” he whispers, roughly.  It sounds like begging despite how much physical power he has over you.  It would scare if it was someone else, but that supernatural strength doesn’t matter because it bends to you, waiting for your permission.
You just barely remember you are in the corridor.  You hope no one chooses now to step out of their apartment.  You wonder if the other werewolves on the floor can scent whatever pheromones Felix must be giving off. 
It doesn’t matter.  You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you can’t stop it.  You’re going to come on him, just like this, fully clothed but so wet that you can feel it gushing as he grinds his thigh against you. 
You grab onto his belt, feeling the curve of his bulge just below your palm.  It makes his breath stutter and it makes you surrender.  Your body seizes and your pussy throbs as you come, a strangled cry in your throat while rocking desperately against him.   
It settles slowly, the world coming back in increments.  You are breathing hard, clinging to each other, bodies still pressed so tightly together.  You can feel his heart beating hard and fast.  It keeps rhythm with the lingering thrum below. 
So much for conversation.  Grinding all over Felix in a semi-public space was not in the plan at all. 
“Oh my god,” you say, voice breaking as you are hit with realization.  You push at him and he goes obediently. 
“Fuck,” he says, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.  He runs his hands through his hair, shakes out the length of it while breathing erratically. 
Your heart is still pounding.  You put your hand over your chest like that will calm it down. 
Felix looks at you.
You recognize this look. 
This look – this is the face you have been mistaking for disgust.  Now that you have seen him truly reviled, snarling at Changbin’s scent on your body, you realize it is not disgust, not at all.  It’s pain, a wincing, cringing desperation as he fights to keep everything inside him. 
It is barely contained right now, his chest still heaving, his fly still bulging, hands shaking at his sides as he stares at you with open need. 
“Oh my god,” you say again.  You lean against the door for support, closing your eyes to try and make sense of the world.  You see the events of the last month play out, the months before that, going back further and further until you shake your head to clear your mind.  “I just—”  You open your eyes, meet his anxious gaze.  “Just give me some time,” you say.  “I – I need to think – I’m so—”
“It’s okay,” he says, hands out to placate you, but careful not to touch you.  He forces himself to smile despite his own emotional tumult.  Sweat breaks out on his hairline.  “Take your time, I – I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to—I just wanted to talk—I—”
“I know,” you say.  “I know.” 
He nods sharply, clearing his throat as he turns awkwardly to the side.  He points vaguely behind him, stutters something like, “I’ll go, um, I’ll just—”
He turns on his heel and walks away, taking the corner to the stairwell so fast that you blink and he is gone. 
You can hear him bounding down the stairs.  You stand there, listening until he is too far to hear. 
With every limb shaking, you pick up your purse and finally fish out your keys.  You manage to turn the key in the lock and step inside before you crumple to your knees. 
This time your thoughts are a very different whirlwind, just as confused and just as emotional, but so conquered by sensation that you find yourself just sitting there, touching your lips, thinking of him.
There is a lot to think about.
-
You realize you have been wrong about so many things.  You and Felix should have spoken a long time ago.  You have both been skirting each other, tentatively regarding the other, worried you might hurt them.  It resulted in you both getting hurt anyway.   
You are so, so scared of making that hurt worse.  It makes you hesitate. 
A day goes by.  Felix respects your space.  On the second day, when you contemplate reaching out for a conversation – a real conversation – your phone buzzes. 
You are surprised to see that it is Bang Chan. 
Hey, he writes.  I need to talk to you right now.  It’s about Felix. 
Your heart-rate shoots through the roof, terror obliterating every other emotion.
Is he okay? you write.  What happened??
Look, I’m just gonna say it, Chan writes.  Felix is in rut.  You know what that is? 
Yes, you say. 
At first, you are relieved he is not hurt and it is something so mundane.  Then you are flustered as you recall the other night.  You remember the heat between you, the way you came on his body and the way he begged for it.   Even now, you are more aroused than embarrassed, shivering as you remember the way he looked at you. 
Right, Chan says.  Look I promise I’m not asking you to sleep with him or something.  I wouldn’t do that.  You have no responsibility for anything.   But you also gotta know that dumb kid is in love with you, right?  Like… insane in love.  Like… won’t let anyone else see him or help him even though he’s a new werewolf, hasn’t had that many ruts, and it hasn’t even been a whole month since the last one. 
You watch as each text appears, your adrenaline building with every word.  The phone shakes in your tight grip.
Didn’t someone help him with his last rut? You ask.  I saw her at his apartment.   
What??? Chan answers quickly.  No.  I sent her over to see if he needed anything, because he kept telling me to fuck off because I was telling him to call you.  I’m telling him again but he still won’t listen.  You know he thinks he’s a monster right? 
You are still reeling from the revelation that he and the girl were not an item at all, that they were truly just having a conversation.  He was flushed and sweaty because he was in rut, not because he spent all morning with her.  You were the one racing to conclusions, not even giving him a chance to explain.  You remember him stepping towards you, asking to speak, but you cut him off before he could.  You assumed he just wanted to reject you. 
Chan says Felix is in love you.  Is it possible that after a conversation with another wolf, he was gathering the courage to tell you, only for you to say you never wanted to see him again? 
Now you read the last message and your heart sinks, a painfully heavy weight in your gut.     
A monster? you write.  What do you mean? 
That doesn’t even make sense.  Felix is the kindest, most loving man you know.  Assuming werewolves are monstrous is such a medieval thought that it never occurred to you for a second that he would feel that way. 
Yeah, Chan says.  Look, he never told me the details because he said it wasn’t his story to tell, but he told me that you went through something really hard and that was why he didn’t want to stress you out with the werewolf thing. It can be pretty intense, especially at the start, and especially when you’re already an adult.  He spent his whole life thinking he was one thing only for everything to change really quickly.  He was really scared of coming on too strong and losing you because of it.   
You made his worst fears come true, you realize, numb as you stare at the screen. 
You know Felix, Chan writes, He’d rather just suffer alone than have someone else feel it too.  I told him to trust you more, that you would want to help, but there’s no getting through to him when he’s like that.  I love the guy but he can be kinda stubborn.
You both have a stubborn streak.  The last month of drama attests to that. 
What do you want me to do?  you ask.  You have more answers but you feel just as lost as before, maybe even more. 
Can you just talk to him please?  Chan says.  He holed himself up in his apartment and he won’t let anyone in.  He stopped answering my messages too.  Ruts are a Molotov cocktail of hormones.  They’re intense even if you’re experienced and he isn’t.  I just don’t want him to get hurt and not do anything about it because he doesn’t want to bother anyone. 
You remember Felix in that corridor, arms hanging limp at his sides, looking at you with so much hurt and sorrow.  Despite that, he didn’t pressure you to stay.  He listened.  He let you go because he thought you wanted that.  He stood by himself in that corridor, crying over a box of his things that he thought had a home with you. 
Tears blur your vision.  You have to rub your eyes before answering Chan. 
I’ll go to him, you write.  I don’t want him hurt either.
I know you don’t, Chan says.  You have a spare key to his place?
Yes.
Good, Chan says.  He’s not answering his door so you’re gonna need it.  Give the guy a smack for me, hey? 
His joke makes you laugh, though it is strained. You give yourself a second to compose yourself then you are on your feet.  You are in a loose house dress and tights, face bare and hair undone, but you do not waste another second.  You know you can be yourself around Felix no matter what.  You wish he understood the feeling was reciprocated.
This time, instead of running away, you run to him.  This time, you will make him understand. 
-
The two city blocks pass in a blur.  You have never moved so fast in all your life, bumping into slow stragglers as you barrel down the street. 
By the time you step off the elevator on his floor, you are warm and out of breath.  You wipe a little perspiration off your forehead as you approach. 
You were so frantic in your determination to arrive, there was no time for nerves to materialize.  They strike all at once, twisting anxiously as you knock.   You wait a minute but he doesn’t answer, just like Chan predicted.
You take a steadying breath and put the key in the lock.  Hand over your heart, you push open the door and step into the apartment.   
It does not look any different from the last time you were here.  Even your slippers are still by the door.  You disregard them now, stepping out of your shoes and venturing forward with a nervous little patter. 
If you were a werewolf, maybe you would have scented a change in the air, but it smells and feels familiar.  The apartment is very still, maybe a little warmer than usual, sunlight streaming through the windows. 
You finally hear a sound.  You leave the small foyer and make a very clumsy entrance into the room. 
You can hardly blame yourself for stumbling.  Felix is sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of jeans.  It looks like the same blue jeans from the other night.  Yes, in fact, you are sure they are because you can see the faintest streak on his thigh.  You were embarrassed to find you were so wet that it came through your panties and skirt.  You wondered if it got on him. 
You certainly have an answer now.  
Felix is touching himself.  He is slouched back on the couch, his bare chest damp with sweat, his knees spread apart.  His jeans are pulled open and it looks roughly torn, the zipper snapped off the fly.  His hand is wrapped around his cock.  One of your t-shirts is clutched tightly in the other hand.  He is holding it against his face, covering his eyes, mouth, and nose.  He is clearly chasing the scent, knuckles whitening with how tightly he grips it.     
His abdomen clenches as he approaches a climax.  You watch as he quickly wraps the t-shirt around his cock, fucking the material.  His eyes are closed, head thrown back. 
You snap to the realization that he has no idea you’re here, so overwhelmed with your scent from the shirt.
You quickly cover your eyes with both hands and yelp his name. 
His reply is a startled yelp as well.  You peek at him through your fingers, watching as he frantically stuffs the t-shirt between the couch cushions.  He tries to stand at the same time, fighting to close his pants over an uncooperative erection that does not seem to be going down. 
“Fuck, sorry, I – hold on, fuck – I can explain—” he stammers. 
“Um, me too,” you say.    
He can’t get his pants closed but he gets himself tucked back inside.  He keeps a grip on the fly with one hand, the other running through his long hair. 
Then he is standing there, flushed and out of breath.  You slowly lower your fingers from your face. 
There is a moment of silence, both of you startled.  After a bit of staring, he cracks a nervous smile.  You tentatively return it. 
His brow smooths out, his dimple poking into his cheek.  He chuckles first, then you laugh, then you are laughing together.  It feels good, letting out all the ridiculous tension. 
“Why, uhh, why are you here?” he finally asks. 
“Um, Chan texted,” you say. 
“Oh, for the love of—”  He cuts off his own tirade, shaking his head and exhaling heavily. 
You twist your hands together, fingers budging in a nervous fidget. 
“Um, he told me… he told me…”  You forget your precise words because Felix meets your eyes, holding your gaze in his.  You lose yourself in the depth of his dark eyes.  You think your heart is beating loud enough to hear.  
You look away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his stare.  Your eyes stray to the couch, to your t-shirt poking out between the cushions.  You are startled by a jolt between your legs, like a lightning bolt of arousal, the previous scene suddenly resonating with clarity. 
“I—”  You almost choke on your words, so much nervousness, so much fear, so much need in your voice.  You meet his searching eyes, stepping forward as if compelled by them.  “I thought my scent disgusted you.” 
He blinks back at you, your words taking a moment to settle.  Then he furrows his brow and tilts his head.  A bit of hair falls forward and he tucks it back. 
“Uhhhh, what?” he asks.  “Dis—disgusted me?  You thought—”  He looks back at the couch too.  He is very flushed, his rut no doubt keeping him suspended on a perpetual edge, and his ears darken with a richer tinge of red.  “Um.  No.”  He laughs at the ridiculousness, looking at you with wide, blinking eyes.  “I, uh, I definitely don’t – I think you – I mean—”
“Um, yes,” you say, clasping your hands together again.  You rock a little on the balls of your feet.  “Yes.  I can see that, um, I think you’re not disgusted.”
“No,” it comes out on a breath.  His eyes drop from your face down your body.  You look so simple, but he looks at you like no one has ever been more beautiful.   “No, I’m not disgusted.  Why did you think that?”
“You, um, you make faces sometimes,” you say.  It sounds so petty and silly to say out loud, but it’s time to get it all out there.  “And you’ve been so distant, Felix.  I thought that maybe, now that you’re a werewolf, you didn’t want anything more to do with me.” 
His face scrunches up with bewilderment. 
“Nothing – nothing to do with you?” he asks, voice breaking where it pitches up.  It would usually make you laugh, but now is not the time as you stare back, all your insecurities and vulnerabilities on display.  He does not laugh at them either, taking a small step towards you with a tender look on his face.  “I could never feel that way,” he says.  “You’re my whole world. I – I’ve told you that.  You’re my – you’re my person.”
“Chan said you felt like a monster,” you say softly.  “I wish you would have told me how you felt.  I could have told you that you aren’t a monster, not at all.   You’re my person too, you know.” 
He exhales, shoulders deflating.  He rubs the bridge of his nose, thinking of something to say.  Eventually he shakes his head and drops his hand. 
“I didn’t want to be a burden,” he says.  “You’ve been through so much.  I couldn’t – I couldn’t ask you to take care of me too.”
“Felix,” you say, throat cloying with emotion.  You take a step closer as well.  “Felix, you’re not a burden.  I wanted so badly to take care of you.  I – I love you.”
The word love resonates like thunder.  It pierces the air, leaves a ringing aftermath. 
“You – you love me,” Felix says, like the words are incomprehensible.  “As a – as a friend – or?”  He tries to look disinterested but completely fails, staring at you with all that intensity again. 
You combat the instinct to make yourself small, to hide your vulnerabilities, to retreat into denial and just smile prettily.  You hold his gaze.  When you smile, it is honest and affectionate. 
“I love you, Felix,” you say.  “As more than a friend.  As everything.” 
“Oh,” he says.  His hand goes back into his hair, untucking it from behind his ear just to tuck it back again.  His eyes dart everywhere like he is replaying the scene and scanning it for answers.  He blinks at you.  “Oh.” 
“Yeah,” you say, with a small laugh. 
“But you – you never wanted to see me again,” he says, then lifts his brows, expression all at once understanding.  “Because you thought I didn’t want you.  Oh my god.  I’m such an idiot.”
“I’m not the brightest either,” you tease.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, closing the distance yet again with another step.  He forgets the state of his clothes and lets go of his pants, too wrapped up in his words to notice the startled drop of your eyes.  Not much is exposed, just the shape of his hips and a stubborn bulge, but it still leaves you sweating. 
“Look,” he says.  “I – I can’t just say I love you.”  Before your heart can sink, he continues frantically, “Because it’s not enough.  I do, I do love you.  The werewolf gene activated for you.  The doctors asked if I had been in any dangerous situations that might have triggered it and I said no.  They – they said it sometimes activates in peril, when you feel the need to protect yourself.  That’s what happened to me.  Except it wasn’t because I wanted to protect myself.  I wanted to protect you.”
“Me?” you say in a small voice, like you can hardly believe it.
“Yes,” he says, smiling, both hands moving as he talks.  “I felt so helpless, watching the way you were hurting.  I wanted to protect you.  I never wanted to see you suffering again.  I tried to be calm around you but pushing it down just made the feeling more desperate.  My wolf, it’s like my heart.  It’s just an animal, you know?  And it only understands loyalty and love.  And the first time I changed, I didn’t think like a person, no, but I thought of you all the same.  They could barely keep me contained in that hospital.  I just wanted to run to you. I wanted to protect you.  I wanted to keep you safe. Staying away from you… it’s been killing me.”
“Me too,” you say, so filled to brim with emotion you think you might burst.  “Oh, Felix, me too.” 
A laugh spills out of him, more of a release than humour.  You take another step towards each other, this time close enough to clasp hands between you. 
“I wish you would have told me,” you say.  “But it’s my fault too.  I know I’m still recovering in some ways.  I’m quick to think little of myself.  But I shouldn’t put you in the role of the mean voices in my head.  I’m sorry too.  So, so sorry.” 
“How could you think I’d ever be disgusted with you?” he asks in a low voice. 
When he cups your cheek, a shiver moves down your spine.  You straighten, leaning into his touch, looking at him with wanting eyes.  He swallows hard, staring back. 
“It was silly,” you say.  “I even thought you were seeing someone else.  That werewolf lady in your pack.  I thought maybe you wanted a werewolf mate and I wouldn’t be enough.” 
“That’s crazy,” he says.  “You’re my everything.” 
“And you’re mine,” you say.  
You touch his arm, just the lightest caress of your fingertips.  His skin is so hot it makes you gasp.  Your cool fingers must be a balm because his eyes close and a little sigh parts his lips. 
“Uh,” he breathes, eyes still closed.  “Sorry for what you, uh, saw, coming in—  I promise I don’t usually – ruts are just—”
You step a little closer.  You can feel his breath on your cheek when he breathes in and out. 
His hands drop to his sides as you lean in and kiss his neck.  It is just a chaste touch but it makes his eyes fly open.  He looks at you and you swear his eyes have never been so dark.   
“You want me,” he says.  When you nod, he releases another deep breath, a massive exhale of relief.  “Ruts are… intense,” he says. 
“Mm,” is your gentle reply.  Your eyes run down his bare skin, fingers itching to touch.  You meet his gaze.  “But it’s you, right?” 
Some romances depict ruts as an out of control haze.  Though Felix is certainly more intense, it is your best friend’s familiar eyes locked on yours.  You realize it actually makes him the vulnerable one, all his desires so blatant, his needs on the surface, unable to hide them for a second.  You understand why he held back, especially while you were in recovery.   There is so much of him. 
But that is what you love.  You can never have enough. 
“Yes,” he says.
His deep voice is so rough that it makes you whimper.  His hand jumps at the sound, settles on the back of your neck like it did yesterday.  Anticipation tingles from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, every inch of your body aware of him, desperate for him. 
“Yes,” he says again, staring at your mouth.  “Yes, it’s me.” 
Your breath catches when he squeezes your nape.  In the back of your mind, you recall all those little courtship rituals of werewolves, the instincts that manifest between them and their mate.  A gentle squeeze of the nape is a request for your submission, for you to put your trust in his strength and his affection.  
You do, utterly.  You rest your hands on his waist, your cool palms against his hot skin, making his eyes flash with hunger. 
“What are you waiting for?” you ask, his mouth so close, kissing a tantalizing promise.  
He smiles that real smile, eyes crinkling sweetly, sunshine radiating with all that heat. 
“I told you, ruts can be intense,” he says.  “I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”
“You have it,” you say.  Your eyes drop to his chest and you run your hand from his collarbone all the way down to his abdomen, watching the muscles tense under the caress of your fingers. 
You smile at him, swiping at his hot skin with your fingertips as you step back.  He lets you go, hands dropping to his sides.  He moves when you do, like his whole body is tethered to yours, magnetized to your core.  Each step you take, he follows with a fixated prowl. 
“Do whatever you want with me,” you say, peeling down a strap of your dress.  “I’m yours.” 
His steps gain speed, his smile brightening.  In a matter of seconds, he is chasing you into his bedroom, laughing behind your trail of giggles as you scamper ahead of him. 
He catches you around the waist inside the bedroom, pulling your backside into his front.   The straps of your dress are both lowered and you hold it to your chest with your hand, heart pounding from excitement and the little chase. 
You make a sweet sound when his nose swipes your neck.  You tip your head, offering more skin.  It is a good thing his grip is so strong, because you tremble when he exhales, breath caressing your skin.  He gathers your dress in his hands, plucking the fabric out of your grip.  He pushes it down your body and it puddles on the floor. 
“Felix,” you say on a sigh when he kisses the back of your neck while working his fingers under your bra.  You help remove it, dropping it onto the floor.  You rock back against him when he touches you.  He uses both hands to cup your breasts and squeeze. 
“Can’t believe you thought I was disgusted,” he says.  “Like I didn’t spend my whole last rut in here thinking about you.” 
“Y-you did?” you ask, with a little whimper, because his open jeans are not doing much to shield him and you can feel how hard he is against you.  
“Yes,” he says, a hand coming up to circle your throat, gripping it possessively as he puts his teeth in your neck.  It makes you jump in his arms, body shaking. 
He holds you tight against him, the denim of his pants rough through the thin fabric of your tights. 
“I’m sorry for all that,” you rasp.  “I must have made it so hard for you.”
“Mm,” he says, grinning against your neck.  “You made it very hard.”
“Pfft.”  You slap a hand over your mouth when laughing.  “That was a terrible joke.”
“Mm. True though.” 
You squeak when he nudges you forward, so close to the bed that you stumble right onto it.   He climbs up behind you, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back. 
“At first, I was just sad,” he says. 
He leans back to grab something off his bedside table.  You admire the length of his body as he does, the low-slung jeans, the sheen of sweat across his chest, and his subtle, slender musculature.  
You meet his gaze when he comes back.  He is kneeling over you, a cocky grin on his face.  He gathers his hair and ties it with the band he just grabbed. 
“Then I really thought about it,” he says.  “Mm, yeah, thought about hunting you down.”  He straddles your thigh, his hands planting on either side of your head.  “I’d find you and I’d remind where you belong.”  He leans down, kissing along your jaw.  “With me.  Under me.  Moaning my name.  Forgetting about everything else.” 
“Did you—”  You start but gasp, his mouth on your throat, biting, sucking, licking.  You arch your back, leaning into his mouth as he works his way down your body.  “Did you… like with my shirt… when I saw you before…”
“What?  Did I get off to your scent?” he asks.  “Yes.”  His hand follows his mouth, fingers curling into the band of your tights.  “I told myself I shouldn’t.  The last few ruts I managed.  It wasn’t fun, mostly too hot, but I got by.  But – you weren’t coming back, were you?  You left so many pretty things here that made me think of you…”
He abruptly kneels upright.  He uses both hands to grab the waistband of your tights. 
“Found one of your cardigans,” he says.  “Soft, like you.  Put it on my pillow and fucked my hand like I wanted to fuck you.” 
He rips your tights open with little effort, tearing right down to the thigh. 
“Put it on my face,” he says.  “Tasted it.  Like I wanted to taste you.” 
You moan for him, threading your fingers through his hair as he gets between your legs and opens his mouth on your pussy.  He licks right through the material of your panties, like he doesn’t care at all, tormenting you with the obstruction until it is soaked through.   You say his name over and over, your thighs already shaking just from warming up. 
“Mmm.”  He pushes himself up again, his mouth wet, tongue sweeping over his lips.  He grabs your panties by the waistband and tugs them down. 
By now, his jeans have slid down his hips.  He is so hard, beading at the tip, as wet for you as you are for him.  You watch as he uses your panties to quickly jerk his cock, gathering the wetness at the tip, then tossing them over his shoulder. 
He falls back on top of you, face between your legs, licking you with nothing in his way. 
“Wanted to find you,” he says between teasing kitten licks, looking up at you, smirking with the flick of his tongue.  “Wanted to make you come so hard – mm, fuck you so good…”  He slips two fingers inside you.  Even though it has been some time, they move with no hindrance, your pussy so wet that he sinks right in. 
“Yeah,” he says, momentarily going cross-eyed with his face so close to your pussy, watching his fingers move in and out of you.  He grins when you clench around him.  “Show you we were meant to be,” he says.  “Just like this.”  He licks you again, fingers moving so quickly that it sounds as obscenely wet as it feels.  “Wolf or not.  Knew you were mine.  Was gonna make sure you know too.” 
“Ohh,” you say, tugging at the blankets beneath you.  “Who are you and what have you done with my sunshine Felix?” 
He laughs, a low chuckle, the vibrations moving in your pussy.
“Mm, I’m right here, sweetheart,” he says.  “Right… here…” 
Then his mouth is occupied, little licks replaced with broad strokes of his tongue, then a repeating pattern that has you swelling and gushing on his tongue.  You come so hard that it makes you dizzy, head thrown back as you squirt all over his thrusting fingers. 
“That’s it,” he says, kissing your wet thighs. 
While you are recovering, he grabs you and moves you.  He arranges you neatly in the middle of the bed, making sure you are comfortable.  Then he lets down his hair and removes his jeans.
“Felix,” you say, though it is generous to describe your voice as anything but a needy whimper.   
He runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs, coaxing you open with murmurs of sweet nothings.   You let him in, stringing your arms around his neck as he fits his hips between your legs and leans over you.   You feel the head of his cock against your pussy, still throbbing with aftershocks.  You are clenching around nothing, needing him, so ready you could scream. 
You don’t scream, but sigh, like you are relieved when he gets inside you, like this is what you have been missing all along.
He takes his time despite the fever of his rut.  Maybe because of it.  His senses are so heightened, the pleasure felt so strongly.  He groans, eyes closed, putting his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he slowly rocks into you. 
“What were you thinking,” he murmurs, lips moving on your throat, “Trying to run away from me?” 
“I’m – I’m sorry,” you say, interrupted with a hiccupping little uh-uh when he rolls his hips and you feel him deeper, harder, faster. 
“You thought I wanted someone else?” he asks.  “Impossible.” 
Your eyes are closed, head thrown back.  He grabs your chin and pulls your face to him, says, “Look at me.  Right now.” 
You do, blinking your eyes open.  His thumb rubs your bottom lip and you open your mouth.  You don’t even need to think, instantly accepting the intrusion of the digit, sucking on it while holding his gaze. 
It would have terrified you a year ago, with anyone else, losing yourself to instinct like that, opening yourself up so willingly.  With Felix, it feels right, it feels good. 
“It’s you and me,” he says.  “You understand that?”
You nod, humming affirmatively around his thumb.  It rubs over your tongue, opens your mouth a little more.   You want to close your eyes with every rolling thrust into you, but he tugs your face back to him when you try. 
“You’re my mate,” he says.  “Just you.  It’s always – always been you.”  He groans on the second always, picking up some speed, making you whine against his fingers.  
He is so hot, clearly in the grips of his rut fever, but you cling to him, accepting everything he has to offer. 
 “Gonna be mine,” he says.  “That’s right, yeah?”  You nod frantically.  “Yeah.  Gonna put a ring on your finger.  You’re gonna be so good to me, aren’t you?  Gonna let me take care of you.  Gonna be my mate.  Gonna have my children.  You and me.  Home.  Oh, yes, sweetheart, that’s it—”
You clench so tightly at the mention of children.  It catches you off guard, your body’s visceral and immediate response, faster than your brain compute can why.  You have told Felix you want children one day, in the future, back when you were just friends and it was an abstract thought.  Thinking of a home with him, having his children, making a whole life together, being bound so completely …
“Fuck,” you say, his thumb sliding out of your mouth.  He cups your face to keep it locked on him, your lips brushing each other. 
“Look at me,” he whispers. 
You do, though you are so close that you barely see him.  It feels like he is everywhere, everything, around you and inside you.  You melt when he kisses you, stealing your breath as he claims you so completely.  You kiss back, messy and haphazard, all heat and wetness, but it feels good.    
“C-can’t get pregnant,” you say with a pout, a bit delirious from getting fucked, letting the words roll thoughtlessly off your tongue.  “B-birth control.”
“I know,” he says.  He moves a little, gets up so he can hold your hips and pull you onto his cock with every thrust.  “I’m stronger,” he says, just as deliriously, watching where his cock moves inside you.  “Yeah.  Gonna fill you up so much, it’ll happen anyway.  It can’t stop me.” 
He holds your hips, keeps you in place.  He thrusts into you deeply and says, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and comes inside you. 
It is not quite like all the werewolf pornography, with exaggerated knots on preposterously sized cocks, but werewolf physiology is still a little different than human.  That difference is exacerbated on a rut.  You feel it as he comes, the way he swells and gets harder, just enough that you feel your fullest as he releases.  Pushing at you walls, stretching you around him, making you his without question. 
He doesn’t really soften after, the rut sustaining him, but the swelling goes down.  Even then, not entirely, as you feel a sharper burn when he pulls out of you.  The flicker of pain is oddly tantalizing, a biting sensation on top of so many others.  It ripples through you, makes you moan. 
Your whole body is twitching, eyes closed as you come back to yourself. 
You look up at Felix.  His eyes are between your legs, his hand running up your thigh.  You feel his thumb spread your pussy open, feel his release spilling out of you.  That is the other different element; with a werewolf, there is a lot more of everything.  
Though you know your birth control will function regardless, when you feel all that inside you… for a moment, you believe he might be strong enough to overpower it. 
It makes you giddy, pleasure moving through your body.  He smiles at you, all sunshine and sweetness.   Then he takes control of your hips and puts himself back inside you.  The refractory period on a rut is virtually nonexistent on the peak day, which is usually the second day, which is today. 
“You okay?” he asks, rocking into you slowly even though he fits so easily now, your body made to take him. 
You nod, sliding your hands over his shoulders.  You scratch across his back then up in his hair, making him grunt and close his eyes.  He leans down and kisses you, continuing to fuck you until you are making all those sweet sounds again. 
“Good?” he asks, kissing your jaw, your neck. 
“Good,” you say. 
“Not too much?” he checks. 
“Mm, no,” you say.  You give him a teasing smile.  “Not enough actually.”
“Oh, really?”  He laughs, eyes big with playful incredulity.  “Should I growl and bite more?”  He makes a playful snarl like the werewolves in all the erotica. 
It makes you laugh.  You can’t remember the last time you laughed while having sex, but it feels so good, just as good as all the hot, desperate stuff.    
“Hmm, maybe not,” he says, laughing too.  “Maybe all the making-a-bitch stuff is a bit much, hm?” 
It seems you will learn more about yourself than him over this rut, because that also makes you clench involuntarily.  He blinks with surprise, mouth in a soft ‘o’ as he looks down at you.  He laughs just a little at the look on your face, a low chuckle as his grin widens. 
You cover your mouth, blinking innocently up at him. 
“Oh shit,” he says.  “I see.” 
You pout when he pulls out of you, but there is little time to feel bereft because he flips you over onto your front.  Your face lands in the pillows, then he yanks you down the bed.  
Oh, it feels filthy suddenly, because the new angle opens you up and you can feel come dripping out of you.  It catches his eye too, because he puts his fingers there and stuffs it back inside you.  
With little effort, he gets you back under him, pushes down your shoulders and lifts up your hips.  You feel him at your entrance again, pushing the tip past the rim. 
“Is that it?” he asks, dropping his voice so low yet sounding so sweet.  “You want me to make you my bitch, baby?” 
He slams home, holding your hips up while pounding into you with relentless measure.   You grab a pillow to hold, yelping and whining into it as he fucks you with wild abandon.  
For a few seconds, you succumb to that single-minded animalistic pursuit, and you really do believe he can put a baby in you.  You start babbling the desire – begging for it, asking him to fill you up. 
“Please, please, please,” you say, gasping. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, draping himself over your back, not stopping his hips for a second.  “I got you.  I’ll give you a baby.  So good for me.  Made to take it from me, yeah, baby?” 
 You know you are going to come again, his angle and precision too much to withstand.  Sure enough, you are coming all over his cock in a matter of seconds, squeezing him into another orgasm too. 
He kneels behind you, throws his head back while coming.  Then he grinds inside you like he is trying to get it as deep as possible. 
“Oh, Felix,” you say, whimpering when he pulls out, still hard, the burn less this time because you are so filthy wet that he slides so easily.   You can feel his release gush out of you, his fingers chasing it, pushing back into you. 
He rubs at you until you are rocking your hips and coming on his fingers.  It is so much stimulation that your eyes water and your nose starts to sniffle. 
He rolls you over and cups your face.  You open your mouth instinctively, tilting your head to expose your neck.    He looks at you like he can’t really believe you are exist and that you are here. 
“Wow,” he says.  The hand on your face slides so he can put his thumb back in your mouth, letting you suck on it like it is giving you life.  He clenches his jaw, makes a rough sound, presses down on your needy tongue.  “Next time,” he says, while starting to put his cock back into you, “Your mouth.  And my mouth.  You’re gonna sit on my face for hours.  I’m gonna take care of you.  Oh—”
He is halfway inside you when you reach up, putting your hands on his chest.  He stops immediately, pulling out, taking back his hands, looking at you with a concerned tilt to his head. 
“Will you lay on your back?” you ask, voice hoarse. 
He blinks, like for a second he doesn’t understand words, but then he obeys.  His hair is in absolute disarray, a veritable lion’s mane.  He rakes it back, smooths it down as best he can.  He never takes his eyes off you, watching as you sit up, as you climb on top of him, as you put him back inside you and set a slower pace. 
“My turn,” you say, smiling.  “I want to take care of you too.” 
He smiles, putting his hands on your hips but not guiding them.   He lets you take the lead, moving on top of him, finding all the ways to make him moan and close his eyes and twitch inside you.   
You make him come twice that way.  After the second time, he finally starts to soften enough that you can take a break. 
You lay down beside him, squeaking with surprise when you press down on your belly and a little more come gushes out of you.  You look at each other, his face the picture of total innocence despite his hand in it.  You swat his chest, rolling onto your side and putting your head on his chest. 
He laughs, putting his arm around you, stroking your back. 
“You know I do mean it,” he says, looking down at you.  “I want everything with you.” 
“Me too,” you say.  You kiss his chest, then his neck, under his jaw, making him sigh contently.  “I love you, Felix.  Everything about you, wolf and all.” 
“I love you too,” he says, pressing you close, kissing your forehead. 
There is a long moment of content silence.  He strokes your back, up and down, lulling you to a dozy state.  It is too early to sleep and, besides, the sheets need changing before that – even though you suspect they will just be dirtied again. 
You are contemplating these sweet mundane nothings when he says, “You’re in the pack, you know.  As my mate.  That makes you one of us.” 
“Does it?” you ask. 
“Yes,” he says.  “I’m telling you this, because you’re a packmate and Chan is leader, but you’re my mate, so you have to take my side and tell him to fuck off when he tries to say I told you so.” 
You laugh, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes. 
“Sounds good,” you say.  “Hmm, I might go have a shower before… the next… round…” 
You do not have to look down to know that he is hard already, his blinking gaze revealing all.  You giggle together and kiss again. 
“All right, fair enough,” you say, eyes closed, exposing your neck obediently when he cups your nape.  You press against him, moaning softly when he scents your neck then sucks a bruising kiss there.  “It can wait,” you say, smiling.  “We’ve been waiting for this long enough.” 
“Mm,” he says, already slipping back into his feverish need.  He grabs you and pulls you back on top of him. 
There is not much talking for a while, but there is some laughter and plenty of smiles, and for the first time in a long time, you are looking forward to everything that follows after.   
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il-miele-che-scrive · 1 year ago
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you know what people are saying when a girl gets cheated on? go for his brother.
a/n not tryna offend anyone, I just love a lil drama
Part 2 here
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username1 Miss Y/n Y/l/n getting cheated on? No one is safe fr
↳username2 Yeah cuz how's he casually cheating on a literal goddess??
username3 they were together for almost 2 years😭
username4 My therapist will hear about this
↳username1 And Arthur is paying the bill
username5 that's it I'm NEVER trusting a man
username6 Isn't that girl Y/n's friend too? Poor girl getting cheated on twice
↳username3 yes it is 😭 guess Arthur got it from his brother
username7 Except Charles didn't cheat 😭 he's a homie hopper but he got morals
username8 I don't worry about Y/n, she's gonna find a new bf, but she wasted almost 2 years on him
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yourusername excuse my state i'm as high as your hopes
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username2 Miss girl about to enter her hoe phase
↳username3 As she should tbh
charlottesiine Lots of fun last night🤍
↳yourusername nothing will beat an ex wags night out
↳username2 best ex wags fr 😭
yoursister Next time I'm going too to keep an eye on you wtf
username4 Wait so Y/n and Charlotte are friends? When did this happen?
↳username5 Yeah cuz we've never seen them hang out back when ChaCha was a thing and suddenly the girls are partying together?
↳username6 I mean it could be just a "we both suffered a Leclerc so let's hang out" kinda thing
username5 WE BOTH SUFFERED A LECLERC 💀 no okay but that's valid
username7 Am I the only one noticing this post was liked by Charles?
↳username2 He knows his lil bro messed up lmao
username8 Okay guys so what are we betting on - did Charles like this post because of Y/n or because of Charlotte? Also, isn't he in a relationship?
↳username3 Charles has been single for a few months now, he's free to like whoever he wants lmao
↳username9 It's just a like it's not that deep
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arthur_leclerc You were my cup of tea but I drink vanilla latte now
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username1 The AUDACITY some men have
username2 and she was her best friend 😭
username3 I really want to believe they broke up before he got with the best friend but I don't think it's true
↳username4 Y/n and Arthur literally attended Charles' race a few days before we got the pics of Arthur with the other girl
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yourusername you don't mean nothing at all to me
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yoursister And I didn't even have to stop you from calling your ex
↳yourusername why would I even wanna call him anyways
yoursister Riiight, you were too busy getting to know some other interesting people:)
username1 What is Y/s/n talking about?
↳username2 Or rather WHO is she talking about?
username3 No Charlotte in the post but Charles is in the likes again 😶
↳username4 Have you seen what this one gossip page posted? Charles being in the likes isn't the thing I'd worry about here
username5 WHAT.
username3 Care to elaborate?
username4 Charles was also at the club with Y/n. It honestly looks like it was organized by a friend of his and he took Y/n there
username2 OH
username2 That's what Y/s/n is talking about
username5 Our girl Y/n is getting promoted from F2 to F1 and I love to see that
↳username6 LMAO it's so funny because it's true 😭
↳username2 Do we know who else was at this party?
username4 Allegedly the party was organized by Gasly, so obviously there was his gf Kika, but also some fellow drivers like Albon, Russell, Sainz, Ocon, Ricciardo and their gfs
username5 I was joking but now it looks like Y/n is actually becoming an F1 wag now lol
username7 Gossip girl on wheels I've been saying it for months
username8 But the caption SLAPS
↳username9 no because it looks like Y/n and Arthur are having a caption war lol it's funny
username8 It's childish but let a girl heal from a heartbreak in peace
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yourusername karma will take it from here
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username1 MISS GIRL?? WHO IS THE MAN??
↳username2 We all know it's Charles (allegedly)
username8 Nah cuz I told yall she's gonna find another boyfriend soon
yoursister Loving to see you happy again ❤️
↳yourusername just needed a little upgrade
username3 I have no proof but I just know it's Charles
username4 Do we think she went for Charles because she genuinely likes him or just to get back at Arthur?
↳username5 Wait until someone starts a "she cheated on Arthur with Charles" gossips
username6 My two favorite red flags
↳username7 The homie hopper and the brother hopper, a match made in heaven
username6 The homie hopper is so real, Y/n recently hung out with his ex Charlotte 💀
username8 What kinda brother gets with his brother's ex?
↳username9 Imagine the next family dinner lmao
username10 Y'all it's not even confirmed that the man is Charles, y'all are crazy
↳username6 The post was liked by all the F1 drivers and their partners that were on the party from Y/n's previous post, it says a lot
↳username2 What @/username6 said and also Y/n is now followed by half of the F1 grid AND the wags
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charles_leclerc Not your cup of tea, but my glass of wine
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yourusername KARMA IS MY BOYFRIEND❤️
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thingswhatareawesome · 2 years ago
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have super torn through the materials from the $bp, nice to make good progress on some characters though (like march/himeko/yukong and their light cones as I mentioned earlier). also did a ton more work again on evaluating relics. making sure to max out any gold ones that have 2+ needed substats. been trying to be conservative with the resources but that's holding my characters back, they're weak bc of low relics. so i think i've been too picky waiting. so yeah, so long as it's got the right main stat and at least 2 substats, i'm upgrading.
also then had to take a ton of time to do more with salvaging to then generate more of the material, and i really struggle with salvaging what really isn't a great item vs but what if a future character needs it or what if a 2/4 pc bonus combines with unexpected stats and gets recommended in the guides, like i wouldn't have suspected healing stats being needed on what looks to be non healing relic types. so hard to know what's trash and what the guides are going to suddenly say is useful. (and jfc is everyone going to end up in hackerspace?)
but doing my best. trying to use mats and not just hoard them for 'just in case' when characters need them now and i can tell it's why i'm so much weaker than other players. and trying to learn, like i know it takes me so much longer to pick up this information (just finally getting to where i understand pity and 50-50). wish there were a bit more info on this stuff for those of us who're new to hoyo games (like my dabbling in genshin never got me to gearing and evaluating stats so sr is basically my first).
not that many levels left on the battle passes, i'm in the 40s, so yeah, it'll be a bummer when that dries up. bc there's quite a while left before the new one.
#it'd still be nice if i could find people doing text guides about salvaging basics i'll have to keep looking#just not youtube i need writing >_>;#it's sad that i'm this game dumb but i've always been like that#took me all of vanilla wow to really learn the basics of mmos and raiding and to start to understand my class (rogue)#ofc then i promptly switched to warlock with burning crusade lol#but i think this style of game is different enough that i've really been clueless even though it's been since june#though it's *only* been since june like a few months? compared to the years i spent in other games (or near a decade and a half in wow)#it's just kind of like i think so many are so familiar with these systems from so much time in genshin or even that other honkai game#that it's all second nature like everyone's in hoyo college and i'm still in grade school#trying to find guides that handhold and speak to my 'for dummies' level >_>;;#and lord i still don't know if i'm rushing it and wasting materials maxing out upgrades on relics that match 2+ substats#maybe others wait for 3 or 4 substats? bc i tried and was upgrading so few it was so rare?#or do people max out just if the main stat matches or with that or one substat?#this is where i miss the social aspects of mmos i could ask others easier and compare what i was doing vs them#i like game8.co but i still have made so many so many mistakes bc even being a guide that assumes more knowledge of the system than i had#like i needed guides that said no don't trust their automatic relic assignment button it's bad you have to evaluate each item and here's ho#and here's where you use your resources to upgrade#finally have the achievement for synthesizing 5 relics though i'm going to be super cautious on doing more#what with the extreme rarity of the resin#anyway... babbling to the void here i know#please ignore my sr bs#and figures i salvage all that disciple stuff bc i don't have blade and the guides say other stuff for arlan (who i won't lvl for ages)#only to find out that it's exactly what fx will need and while i don't have her what if i do get her?#it's exactly why i've been in 'save everything' mode bc the moment i got rid of something i didn't need whoops turns out it might be needed#i swear this game makes me so often feel like i'm always not doing the right thing while constantly doing the wrong thing#i'd like to feel like i truly understand the basics and am mostly competent with them but i'm not to that point yet :/
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mintseung · 9 months ago
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I don't like waiting baby
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PAIRING ୨୧ Boyfriend!lee heeseung x fem!reader GENRE ୨୧ pure Smut — MDNI WARNINGS ୨୧ swearing | pussy sucking | p in v | rough sex | unprotected sex | Pet names (slut / baby) | slight choking? | Nipple sucking ( tell me if I missed one )
💌: Don't mind my typos and grammar (I suck at grammars lol)
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You heard the door opened, "Hey, baby," your boyfriend said as he opened the front door, removed his shoes, placed them on the shelf, and throw his bag on the couch. "I'm home," he smiled, walking towards you in the kitchen.
He hugged your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the aroma of the food you were cooking. "Mhm, I love the way you cook my ramen," he said with a contented sigh. "It's so much better than instant ramen."
"Tired from the work, baby?" you asked, turning off the stove and facing him as you wraped your arms around his neck.
He buries his face in your neck and mumbles. "Hungry already, love?" you ask as you pat his head. He slowly kisses your neck.
He looks up at you, then at your lips, and presses his lips to yours, making the kiss hard and passionate.
He lifted you up onto the counter and started to remove your shorts with your lips still attached with his, when you stopped him. "Not right now, baby," you said.
"Why?" he asked, pouting.
"I'm on my period right now, baby," you said as you kissed his cheeks. "But I've been craving for you all day!" He whines as he start to squish your tits hard making you moan softly. "Love, we just had sex this morning" you cross your arms while glaring at him.
"but I want right now" he looks at you with his Bambi eyes. "I have my monthly period baby, we can't have sex"
"I'll make your period gone for 9 months then," he said smirking, leaning in to kiss you while squishing your tits, but you stopped him.
"Wait for a week baby be patient, okay?" you said as you gracefully stepped down from the counter to fetch bowls for both you and Heeseung leaving him pouting while he looks at you walking away.
A week later you found yourself in bed with your legs on heeseung's shoulders as he pound himself inside your warm walls.
"Fuck baby, I missed your pussy so much" his balls hitting your skin every pound, while he lowers himself to suck your harden nipples.
"Keep your legs up" heeseung grunts as he watches your boobs bouncing up and down.
"Slo-slow down heeseung!" You said as you tried to touch his stomach signing him to stop.
Heeseung smacks your ass again, watching it turn red and becoming more aroused. He thought his cock was about to burst at any moment. "Such a little slut" he says. Heeseung leans over you and puts his hand back on your neck. His lips are practically on yours, He chokes you as his thrusts are never ending.
You let out a loud moan, Heeseung went down to your ear and whispered. "yeah? you like how i fuck you, baby? like how my cock stretches you out?" he smirks as he hold your throat.
Heeseung touches your lower abdomen feeling his bulge moving in and out inside you.
He smirks and throws his head behind as he poke his tongue to his cheeks.
His thrust getting harder, harsher, faster, you gasps and roll your eyes up into your skull feeling your orgasms closer and closer. "Mhm so tight, missed my dick so much hm? " He bites his bottom lip.
"sh-shit fuck wait-wait- it ah-eung" you squeak feeling his hot warm cum filling inside your hole, dripping to the bed sheet. "Such a good slut hm?" his hand starts to rub your swollen clit. He starts thrusting slow, pushing his cum inside you more, as he pull out and went to your pussy and start sucking your sensitive bud. After that he lay down beside you.
"Can't wait to see you pregnant with my child~" he teases as you playfully hit his shoulder.
Oh yeah did I mention this was your 27th round with him? 😉
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