#wag more bark less

[darkwood-sleddog]

Tried these as a nail trim reward today and it was a BIG hit. Sigurd even let me do all his nails without the aid of the scratchboard which was amazing. They don’t smell as bad as you’d think either.

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ bark like you want it !!

ᝰ.ᐟ in the world of sports, there's only one thing people care more about than getting hot 'n sweaty with the athletes: the girlies who are the ones these men are running home to. alternatively: a headcanon post about the hyper-specific wag!reader the bllk boys would end up with. ( fem!reader & sfw )

featuring yoichi isagi, reo mikage, seishiro nagi, rensuke kunigami, rin itoshi author's notes since wives and girlfriends is wag + the song has been stuck in my head, i thought 'bark like you want it' was a silly, cute name for the post lol. warning that isagi's section mentions having kids!!!!

౨ৎ YOICHI ISAGI — the girl next door !! your dynamic is: the two of you have known each other since childhood, and throughout every stage of his life and career, you've been right by his side. when isagi confesses to you shortly after scoring the winning goal of the u-20 match, he's a blushing, awkward, stuttering mess. despite his newfound fame and notoriety (which will only continue to grow), yoichi isagi is still the same boy you've spent living next door to since your elementary days. when he goes pro and becomes a world famous athlete, surrounded by models and actresses, the only girl to still give him butterflies is you. you love him for him. in every speech he has to give, he's always singing praises about you and your unconditional support and love. the wedding you two have is intimate and fairly private, although isagi can't help but post a picture of the two of you outside the obgyn clinic with the cheesy caption of "my baby is having a baby!!!! 😍😁"

the girlies love you because: you're what people think of when someone describes someone as being down to earth. your social media presence is nonexistent, save for a private instagram with less than 200 followers. you live your life in peace with a man who doesn't stress you out in the slightest — in fact, your relationship with isagi is aspirational to a lot of people. one of the number one athletes in the world and super hot 'n rich, and the only thought that rivals soccer on his one-track mind is you, his wife that he's hopelessly devoted to. you're always seen at every single one of his games, sporting his jersey, and always cheering happily when he scores. once the two of you have kids, you'll be carrying your baby (who's also sporting isagi's jersey🥹) every one of his fans that happens to run into you in public can see why isagi is so in love with you; there are only stories about how kind and sweet you are. it's why you're known as the sweetheart of the soccer wags <3

౨ৎ REO MIKAGE — the ceo !! your dynamic is: an arranged marriage... gone right? you belong to a conglomerate family that runs in the same circle as the mikages. you're in the middle of starting up your own beauty brand, and you're trying to make a name for yourself. reo is occupied with his professional soccer career. neither of you want to go through with this marriage interview, but to appease your families, you two agree, not expecting that you two would match each other's freak for real. he's competitive and likes what he can't have; you're little miss independent and equally competitive. he tells you he doesn't mind the engagement, and you get your lawyers to draft a pretty prenup that'll milk him for all he's worth while keeping your assets safe. he buys you a massive engagement ring, and you ask him, "that's the best you can do?" the minute he's in control of mikage corp, he knows he'll gladly let you take the reins.

the girlies love you because: you are the corporate it girl. everyone is obsessed with your paparazzi photos that exude office siren but make it actually work appropriate. there are how-to videos on copying your style. not to mention, you're a businesswoman. every time you attend one of reo's games, you strategically reapply your beauty brand's lipgloss, or tease new products by applying said unreleased products while on camera. someone once asked you in a comment how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? to which you replied @.reomikage how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? just because your man spoils you doesn't mean you put him on a pedestal. princess treatment is the bare minimum for you.

౨ৎ SEISHIRO NAGI — the twitch streamer !! your dynamic is: so silly. you're the type of girl who looks good even with pimple patches on your face and your oversized glasses that you only wear because it has blue light blocking lenses on them. you're a well known streamer and got your start during the peak of fortnite (you started off being comically bad at the game, but again: you're a pretty girl. you being good would've just exploded every guys' brains), but once you got your bag secured, you started posting the content you preferred (dress to impress on roblox). everyone loves you because you're hilarious on camera, but you don't really keep up with sports, so when nagi joins your stream, everyone is going insane but you have no clue as to who he is. when they start spamming the chat about him, you ask your viewers "is he hot? no, scratch that. is he rich?" you've always been nagi's online crush & you basically made his whole entire month when you asked him to join you on your instagram live one day. the whole entire time, he's looking at you on the screen with literal hearts in his eyes, and he struggles to fight back his smile. it's so difficult for him to maintain a neutral expression, and this is the most any of his fans have ever heard him speak, and the comments can't stop talking about "how geeked bro is rn"

the girlies love you because: just like isagi's wag, you are a genuine sweetheart. you never hard launch nagi, but you do tease confirmation on your relationship. you'll wear one of his hoodies that people know is his, or sometimes you'll stream when nagi is over and people can see his shoulder in the frame or they'll hear him say something to you to make you laugh. you post pictures of your view of the field, usually captioning it with something like "damn. i could be going crazy on sims 4 rn" you're just such a fun person to watch, and people consider you + nagi to be their comfort couple (although most of the comforting energy comes from you and your antics).

౨ৎ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI — the pilates instructor !! your dynamic is: fun and flirty, and straight out of a romcom. you're a well-known pilates instructor and in an attempt to get more girls to garner an interest in the sports channel, the network reaches out to you to see if you want to be in a humorous segment where you try to host a pilates class with some of the pro sports team. these guys are all about bulking and lifting and stamina training, and they don't really hold pilates in a high regard, so the comedy could be there. you obviously agree, and you end up teaching kunigami's team first. he can barely concentrate on the class and fumbles a few times because he's too focused on how good you look in your lululemon hot pink set. he's trying so hard to be respectful, and when you talk to him after the class, thanking him for being one of the only guys to not look down on pilates before they had to endure a session, he's trying so hard to avert his gaze because the sight of you slightly sweaty and in your workout clothes is doing something to him. you love teasing him, and the fact that he's a gentleman and still believes in chivalry makes it all the more fun.

the girlies love you because: besides making working out fun, you feature kunigami in some videos and always tease him by making up and demonstrating some freaky positions that always have him turning red in the face. you're always so considerate and supportive of your followers, and in return, they're always supportive of your own endeavors. when you come out with your own workout line, you put your boyfriend's famous name and hot body to use. he's in your marketing campaign, but honestly, the videos of him looking at you when you're wearing your own workout set is advertisement enough.

౨ৎ RIN ITOSHI — the unbothered model !! your dynamic is: centered on the concept of private not secret. neither of you get too personal on social media; you just post aesthetic photos and sponsored content for revolve & rin's socials are managed by a team. like everyone else in the world with decent eyesight, rin's struck by your beauty. unlike most of the guys who are attracted to you, though, rin stands out. for starters, he actually has the confidence to approach you. even better: he's actually polite when he does. normally, the ones bold enough to approach you are bold and loud and kinda sleazy. rin is nothing like that. underneath both yours and his cold exterior, the two of you actually share some of the same niche interests. rin's a pretty intense person on the field and to the public, and there's not a single photo on the internet where you can be seen smiling. the aura the two of you have when paired together is insane... insanely intimidating. he's also the person you're most comfortable with and vice versa. the two of you can be messy and unfiltered and annoying with each other, and no one else.

the girlies love you because: you serve effortless cool girl. at every game you attend to watch rin, not once do the cameras catch you off guard. side profile? stunning. catching your usual neutral expression morph into concern and shock as rin gets shoved by an opponent? you still look insanely good. your hair is always done, nails are always done, your outfits are always fitted and put the other wags to shame. when girls think of iconic partners of athletes, you're always the first on their mind. there are tiktok tutorials that are trying to teach people how to emulate your energy, "[name] outfit inspo", or makeup videos trying to recreate your look. photos of you at rin's game is on every girl's "wag dream life" pinterest board, but the most popular photo is a grainy image someone managed to capture. it's taken after rin's game, and the two of you snuck off to the back of the stadium to be alone. he has his arms wrapped around your waist, and your arms are around his shoulders, and his forehead is pressed against yours and... it's the only photo where people have seen either of you smiling.

[nosyrobin]

“So..submissive..”

Dick Grayson x Superboy!Reader

Summary: dick Grayson is the most submissive man for his super boyfriend.

Warning: suggestive, sex indication but not written, submissive!dick, soft(?)dom!reader,dick and reader are 18+, & fluff/lime.

Dick Grayson, known as Robin. The sidekick of Batman, and adopted son of Bruce Wayne. What a shocker to know that when he grew up more as Robin. He didn’t expect to fall inlove with a kryptonian boy that was a sidekick just like him. Just to Superman, and son of Clark Kent. Coming to earth through natural birth of your mother Lois lane.

It was a blessing to be alive and trained well by your father before fighting by his side. Even seeing his way of life, it was amazing! What was even better was seeing the boy wonder himself and meeting him. You two met in a mission with your dads. You both awkward young kids didn’t know how to strike up a conversation. Or even a damn handshake towards each other, but when the mission ended. Dick had confidence to talk to you. And you talked back with a charming smile. It was soon history as dick would immediately get dressed in his hero costume when he heard from Bruce that Clark was bringing you along with patrol, missions and such.

He couldn’t help that he was crushing on the half kryptonian male. Years went on as the two sidekicks got older, and bigger. Though you were bigger than him still, even after years. The small crush dick thought would go away never did. And the same to you as dick always looked at you. Dick couldn’t help but blush everytime your muscles bulged. His stare was so intense on your arms, you turned around smirking. He looked away, nervously as he felt you close in on him. Not knowing what else to do, he looked at you to only see a soft gaze in your eyes. That’s when you kissed him, he was shocked! Hella shocked. But he kissed you back, having his hands all in your hair as your hands placed themselves on his hips.

You two started to date after. It was sweet to know that Clark approved a lot with Lois. Meanwhile Bruce was a little suspicious, but neither the less was supportive. The two boys started to live together when college years came up, they got their own space, their shared room, their two dogs. It was amazing and comfortable. Years and more years went by and the relationship between the two grew stronger and stronger. Soon Robin, became Nightwing. You were still superboy to what your dad said to you, but you didn’t care less as you lived with your wonderful and arobatic boyfriend.

Some nights are relaxing, chilling, even movie nights with you two cuddling. Hailey and your dog just sits next to each other, wagging their tails and barking happily at their two owners loving each other. Some nights are…lonely for dick or you. Dick goes on undercover mission or just long ass missions. The same for you as you both lay in bed. Missing each other. There’s phone calls, text messages, face time calls in worry that something is happening to the other.

But when it’s those nights when you aren’t home much, dick gets needy, moody, and clingy. He’s whining as he wears your clothes to sleep, he’s venting to his little brothers who gag at the most romantic shit he spurs out. Even his team agree with his brothers. But boy, when you come home. You better hold onto something cause he is like a wife that hasn’t met her husband after years of war.

Dick’s eyes widen as he hears you enter the house tired. “I’m home.” You say as dick immediately rushes you in a hug. He then pepper your face in kisses. Not leaving one inch unkissed. You start to smell his hormones with your sensitive nose. It makes you flustered as dick starts to kiss your neck, you start to pull him off. “Dick. Dick, stop.” Dick whines as he tries to kiss your neck again, your breath now shallow while you try to fight off your persistent boyfriend. With a mean glare at him, dick stops. Immediately with a pouted expression and big blue eyes staring at you. You rubbed his side of his face with one hand, making him lean in your touch.

You soon kiss him, slowly and softly. Dick followed suit and kissed you in the same pace you were going. You just wanted him to calm down as he was acting like a dog in heat. “I miss you…so much..” he says in between kisses. “I missed you too.” You said back, smiling in the kiss. The passionate kiss kept on until dick put his hand on your chest. “Baby…” he whines, breaking the passionate kiss. “Yeah?” You said, rubbing his back. His eyes trail your body, observing it like a hungry hyena towards a zebra. “I want you.” That’s all he said before he started to act in heat again.

Dick immediately hungrily kissed you, making your eyes widen as you held his hips so he could stay in place. He whined as he tried to get close to you, leaning his chest against yours to his. His blue eyes began to darkened as he breaks the kiss. Heavy breaths, he wrapped his arms around your neck. You lifted him up effortlessly as he kept kissing you rough. You kissed him back in the same pace, his tongue wrestling with yours as his fingers gripped your hair tightly.

He break the kiss, going to attack your neck. You hiss feeling his hands hold your head still as he bite and suckle your neck. “Baby…” he moans more as he then goes to kiss you again. You asserted dominance when you felt your tongue swirling with his, dick’s pupils were like hearts as he clawed your back. Small moans exit the man’s mouth, dick’s tan cheeks start to reddened. You felt his legs wrap around your waist tight and you knew that meant business.

You then go to the shared bedroom, where dick chuckled lowly as he kissed you more. The next morning, dick woke up to a lot of purple and red marks all over his body. And his ass hurts, groaning, he turned over to look at you. Looking at you peacefully sleeping as if you didn’t lose control towards him. Dick huffs, seeing he had a team to go to. He tries to get up, only to wobble and fall straight on his face. “I’ll be gentle he says,” dick scoffs trying to sit up. “I’ll make sure you don’t have to wobble he says.. my ass.” Dick sasses as he stares up at the super who’s hearing picked up. You immediately get up, wondering where your boyfriend went only to see him on the floor.

You held in a snicker before helping your poor boyfriend up, he glares at you. Hitting you in the chest, you jolted at first. Feeling the impact but not the pain. “Cmon dickie, I’m sorry.” You said as you help him get clean and dressed. He still glared at you before softening up and hugging you. “Ugh..now I have to explain a secure excuse for why I’m limping.” He says as he kisses your forehead. You smiled at the kiss and kiss him back. “Yeah yeah, but damn baby..” immediately dick felt his knees buckle at the look you gave him.

“You’re so damn submissive…”

[tojisun]

sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au)

part of the ‘if fwb’ spinoff // simon riley x f!reader

johnny’s been… doubting, you see, about the validity of simon’s dating life.

like, for example, if he really was dating anyone.

simon looks content in a way that he never was before—intense eyes turned down towards his phone, unapproachable aura less angry but more settled, like he’s warding off people not because of his dislike but more so because he’s not available anymore.

not like he ever made himself available before, but it’s fundamentally different this time around; self-imposed walls brought down to make room for unbridled fulfillment.

he looks like he’s won the damn cup.

and that’s what makes johnny twitch—someone out there was just as, if not more, valued as the championship cup to simon, but he’s never introduced anyone to them.

not a picture nor an update nor even a PSA that they need to commission another WAG jacket for his partner because simon is tight-lipped about whoever it was he’s seeing. it’s not like he’s even dancing around the fact, it’s just that whoever it was he’s dating was never free.

not for a game nor a night-out nor a party. in simon’s house.

this level of secrecy was just unheard of. even the other men in the league who have a tight leash on their private lives still have living proof of their partners unlike simon who leaves it at, “she’s busy,” like that covers anything.

which is why johnny would like to go on record and say: he is totally valid for choosing to crash at simon’s place without letting him know.

he remembers getting wasted with the others, then refusing to be driven home, only to take a cab to simon’s place. he must have been coherent enough to remember the code for simon’s house, and was shockingly coordinated enough to even punch it in, but his memories begin to splinter there.

next thing johnny knows, he’s waking up, feeling like he’s been hit by a freight train. his tongue is heavy inside his mouth, the pungent taste of last night’s alcohol rising from the back of his throat like bile. he groans, blinking blurry eyes as he tries to remember where he’s at or what he’s done, only for nausea to wash over him so intensely he flops back down onto the bed—

he pats at the cushioning.

—onto the sofa then.

by the devil, what did he do last night? got him drinking like he’s got a new liver to replace this one he fucked with.

christ. he needs water, or a whole bottle of mouthwash, honestly.

“mactavish?”

johnny jumps, twisting his head to the side at the call of his name. it’s simon, of course it is, but he looks dishevelled, unkempt in a way that looks criminal because—johnny roves his eyes over his friend—who the hell looks that good when they’ve just woken up?

simon looks like he can be the next cover of inside fitness; give tyler fucking seguin a run for his own money.

“wha’,” is all johnny gets to say because he starts sputtering, dizziness hitting him intensely again. he gags, and only has enough mind to cover his mouth with his fist.

“jesus– down the hall. go,” simon barks and johnny warbles his thanks before locking himself in the guest bathroom.

.

johnny comes back out to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and melted butter wafting through. simon did say he had a problem with his kitchen vents which made cooking a problem, but johnny sure isn’t complaining right now. although, he supposes that it is a whole different problem when it’s steak or some ribs that simon’s firing up.

oh well, johnny thinks, scratching his side as he ambles to the island, pointedly quiet because simon might kick him out before breakfast is even done.

simon eyes him with a muted approval and johnny grins because, hey, he just secured free breakfast.

he’s about to break the silence, to apologize once more he guesses, when the sounds of padded feet descending from the stairs leading up to simon’s lavishly decorated—sarcasm intended—second floor pierces through the silence.

johnny’s back straightens, his exhausted mind clicking awake.

he turns to his friend but simon’s already angled towards the kitchen door, facing away from johnny. he looks relaxed, previous half-bareness now covered up with a thin white shirt, and johnny doesn’t know why he missed it but simon looks like a perfect picture of a boyfriend fixing up breakfast post-coitus.

“jesus–” johnny begins to say, the pieces linking because yeah, simon’s never denied that he’s been doing some dating around and it’s just johnny’s drunken whim to assume that the most talented ice hockey player of this decade was lying about his relationship status and—good lord, that’s a fucking person diving in simon’s arms, alright.

johnny watches, with his mouth agape, as simon and the mystery woman talk to each other in hushed whispers, his friend having to bend forward to make up for the height difference.

johnny watches, like the third-wheel he is, as simon laughs, actual quiet chuckles and not that children-crying-in-terror-inducing cackle, before nuzzling his nose over your own, and breathing you in.

johnny watches the quiet kiss, just lips pecking each other, and it’s all so soft and tender and johnny feels really, really bad that he didn’t get to give simon and his girl the privacy you two surely deserve and—

your eyes open, flitting to him because johnny is sure that he’s standing out amidst what must be a normally empty kitchen. he doesn’t even get to count three seconds before you’re screaming, lurching out of simon’s hold and hiding behind his bulk in your terror.

simon, screw him, seems to not have cared that johnny was privy to such an intimate moment and just turns enough to catch your attention again before murmuring reassurances. he says things like, “mactavish? the punk ass who got his hair shaved for the new season only to realize no one’s actually gon’ see it because of the helmet? remember?”

“what,” johnny chokes out, embarrassed that that’s what simon told you about and not, like, his player number or something.

“oh,” you gasp out anyway, clearly having heard of the shaved-sides and using it as a marker for johnny. “oh!”

you dance away from behind simon to make your way to johnny, your previous embarrassment gone from your gait. he’s so sure, though, that he’s seen you from somewhere, but the thought’s dashed out of his mind when you chirp, “you’re my best friend’s favourite player!”

“yeah?” johnny replies, gaining his confidence back.

“yeah! she won’t stop showing me the highlights of your guys’ game against that big german fella an’ his team!”

johnny laughs, his own giddiness ramping up. he remembers that game, alright. he remembers the miracle play during the final period when price was able to score an empty-netter. he remembers how, in his adrenaline-induced ecstasy, johnny turned to the player to his side, konig, and laughed in his face.

johnny made headlines then, and he’s saved every single one. his fiancee even printed a copy of her favourite shot and stuck it in her wallet.

(“for good luck,” she said with a wink, like johnny doesn’t have his prick twitching in her fist.)

“well, y’got anything for me to sign for her?”

“uhh…”

“guess you can use that one group photo our marketing team gave to us,” simon finally pipes up, and johnny turns, surprise lining his face at seeing the rich spread of breakfast.

he didn’t even notice simon setting up the table, too engrossed in the high that came from reliving the memory of laughing at konig’s face which resulted to him being pushed into the glass protector by a protective horangi.

not even that had dampened johnny’s elation then and now.

“oh yeah. thanks!” you say to simon before you run out.

you’re barely out of their eyesights when johnny turns to simon with a grin.

“what.”

“oh, you fucken’ sap!” johnny sings because he’s still too hungover to come up to simon and playfully punch him. “and why were ye hidin’ lassie?”

simon grumbles something as he turns, pretending to busy himself with the now-empty coffee pot.

“wha’s’at?”

“i said,” simon begins, heaving out a sigh. “that we jus’ became official last week.”

“oh, shit,” johnny whispers sagely. he blinks. “so, uh, who’s the one you’ve been callin’ yer girl?”

“oh fuck off johnny,” simon hisses, sputtering, before throwing the tea towel at him.

“what now!?” johnny yelps, ducking away from the soaring towel. “what’d i do now–” he gasps, realization dawning on him. “you didn’t.”

simon looked like he was going to say something but by then you were running back with the photo and a marker pen, telling him your friend’s name—alessandra, “or sandy!”—for johnny to sign.

while johnny’s busy practicing his signature on a scrap of newspaper that simon gave to him, he pretends not to hear the giggly whispers between his friend and his friend’s new but longtime-pining-for girlfriend.

“and me? why aren’t you asking f’r my signature?”

“oh ‘cuz y’r mine.”

johnny dutifully ignores the lips smacking sounds as he finally signs the picture, making sure to add devil horns on simon’s head.

serves him right.

i just. love fluff and hockey au sm 😞

[maybaankk]

⠀sweetest puppy ⠀⠀﹒⠀　s.r x reader

this piece of work includes : smut, bdsm elements if you squint, sub!spencer, gn! afab reader (mentions of spencer eating reader out), no Y/N, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, riding, blow jobs, cunilingus, slight somnophilia(?), pre established relationships, pre established safewords, pup hybrid spencer; golden shepherd to be more specific.

originally requested by : @kameowwww on the #sub!spencer reid tag, and then by an anon on here :3

summary : spencer is needy, more now than ever as his rut is starting, and the only thing to satisfy his desire is his pretty owner.

wc: 3.7k

Spencer reid was needy, that was a known fact about him; even included in his files at work. Right now however the need in his gut, and his cock, where achingly painful, so much that he found himself at home waiting for his owner to wakeup while lay next to you with his hand around his cock.

He knew that jerking off while looking at you, while you were asleep no less, was wrong and that he was basically a voyeur. But it felt so good; the prospect of getting caught, and the pleasure of finally being able to touch his cock after such a long day at work.

Then he felt you shift, it made him stop in his tracks; hand still in a fist around his aching cock and precum dripping down into a pool on his hand; he gasps softly at you stirring, being too nervous and turned on to try and hide.

“spencer..?” you mutter, sleep clouding your mind; you could hear him whimpering and thats what woke you.

“i- uh, yesss..?” he trembles, his body shakes more when you turn around to look at him, his ears spiking up and his tail as still as a painting.

“what’re you doing, puppy?” the one question spencer begged in his mind that you wouldn’t ask him, but here you were, doing exactly that.

“n-nothing! i was- uhm-��� he couldn’t finish his sentence as your lips crash against his, he whimpers a sound out before his eyes flutter closed and his lips start to move against yours, his slender hand, the one that wasnt still around his cock, gently tracing its way down your jawline.

“are you in a rut, spence..?” you ask, pulling back from the kiss; he nods and you giggle, slowly reaching your hands down to tug off your panties, smiling at him still.

“y-yes.. i am; aand- you looked so pretty, owner.. just couldn’t hold m’self back..” he mumbles shamefully but then his eyes dart down to your hands pulling off your panties.

“wner what’re you- you doin- ahh~!” and thats when he feels it, your pussy on the head of his aching, throbbing and red cock; the wetness and warmth of you around him is almost too much.

He starts to squirm, his hands reaching for everywhere on your body, long slender fingers tracing your waist, and your figure. Like a kid in a candy store, his tail goes wild, wagging and thumping against the mattress.

When you push yourself further down on his cock, he swears he sees every god he doesn’t even believe in. That’s when he feels you all the way down on him, and he starts to squirm even more.

“ah ah ah.. stay still, puppy.. you touched yourself to me while i was asleep, you know good puppy’s don’t do that.” the way your voice carries makes spencer comply to your every wish.

“oh~! yesss- yes oowner.. i’ll take thiss” he starts to babble, tears pricking his pretty eyes as he stares at you, hands reaching for your face needily.

You start to move yourself on his cock, he gasps and tries not to squirm, oh he tries so so hard but the way your pussy sounds around him, the way you sound when his cock hits the good spots inside of you makes him feral.

He starts to bark and whimper, his hands darting to your ass, squeezing it like a chew toy, he moans louder than he thinks he ever has; his cock leaks more.

“please- please im gonna cum! i’ve been so good- ii- i’ve been a ggood puppy- please let me cum, ownerr, pleaseee!” he babbles as he feels his cock twitch inside of you.

“no puppy.. you know you don’t get to cum, especially when you touched yourself to me while i was asleep” god you’re so cruel, he thinks, he looks up at you desperately, trying to beg his way out of this punishment.

“those eyes, are cute as they are when you give me them, they aren’t going to work.” thats when the thought that devil, if she exists, has soldified herself into his lovely owner, you would’ve let him cum by now if it was any normal day.

authors note : part 2 is gonna cum ;) soon my lovelies, this is all my brain is gonna allow me to write right now, but thankyou to kami and the lovely anon who suggested this!!

[jameui]

THE BOY NEXT DOOR

PAIRING: ENHYPEN's Park Jongseong x M!Reader

GENRE: Smut, Fluff, Angst

WARNING: i guess some intense smutty action ✨, not proof read

SUMMARY: Park Jongseong. The name is known widely as the infamous fuckboy of the 4th floor in your apartment building. He insisted he shares a room with you for the night as he is being stalked. What's the worst that could happen?

Another night where you had your headphones on for a couple of hours now, knowing that your nextdoor neighbor was at it, again. Fucking horny boys and girls in his apartment room. In fact, it seemed to happen too frequently that you pretty much caught onto his schedule when he would start having his fun that you even had your alarm for it on just in case you forget about all of it.

Damn, Park Jongseong was one horny guy.

After that, he would throw them out of his room and leave them there almost naked, giving zero shits whether they would get fucked again on their way back home. Besides, it was just a one time thing. Practically, fuck and go. No strings attached. What a heartless guy, I must say. After taking advantage of their heart, he just leaves them as though they were just toys for him to play with.

But, of course, those were only the stories you heard. You knew Jongseong more than anyone can think.

Your eyes travelled its way up to the digital clock you owned above your closet after staring at your phone, scrolling through your feed to pass time. You saw that it was already half past six in the evening and that's usually the time when Jongseong would always finish.

You wanted to make sure first that he was actually done, pulling on one side of your headphones. When you thought it was finally quiet, you slowly took it off and sighed to yourself. "Finally."

You got off your bed to move to the mini fridge you have where you stored all your bottled water, since you loved drinking cold water rather than lukewarm. Soon, there was a knock on your door which got you feeling confused since you weren't really expecting any visitor.

You heard another knock bringing you to your front door to open the door for the person outside of your room. "Who is..." You trailed off when you saw your next door neighbor standing in front of you. "Jongseong?" You heard a loud bark from beside him, later noticing his pet dog that made you coo at how the cute creature looked like.

She was wearing a pair of sunglasses which you knew Jongseong had put on her himself while she wore a very cute shirt with the tag 'I'M THE BEST DOG' written on the back of it. You kneeled down to match the height of it and started to pet her, Charlotte, as you remembered it, wagging her tail happily.

"Y/N, can you do me a favor?" You heard the taller male speak out, you looked up at him with a smile. Jongseong looked like he was hesitating to say what he had in his mind to you, judging by the way he would stumble through his words or how he would open his mouth to say something only to shut them close and repeat.

Without looking at him you give him a soft laugh, all the while giving Charlotte the best belly rub who was now lying on her back. "Speak up, Park," you said, with Jongseong hesitating for the nth time. You paused for a moment facing up towards the other male, your head tilted over to the side a little. "I can't read minds, you know," You joked in an attempt to lessen what Jongseong is feeling.

Jongseong sighed, blushing due to his embarrassment. Your words were all that he needed, pushing him to tell you the tiny favor he would like to ask of you. "Well, you see. It's er... can I and Charlotte crash at your place for the night?" Jongseong stuttered a little, trying to compromise, thinking of the right words to make it seem less inappropriate. "It's very important and I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to do," he quickly added.

You rolled your eyes at him, then standing back up knowing just how it had come to this. "Let me guess. Another stalker?" You asked him in a teasing manner, Jongseong immediately shaking his head in denial. You raised him a brow while crossing your arms.

Jongseong was still pressed on denying it, but the look on your face made him do otherwise. He could only sigh in defeat and hang his head low whilst nodding his head looking like a dejected dog, his shoulders slumped down. You gave him a pat on top of his head, practically on top of your toes.

You opened the door for him to enter, gesturing for him to get inside. "Come on in," you welcomed the male into your place, the blonde male replying with a muttered 'thank you' and a smile. Once he's settled inside, you close the door behind you. "Just don't use my apartment room as your new strip club."

Jongseong quickly snapped his head toward you and shook his head. "I promise you none of that will happen," Jongseong reassured you, while you took something out of your dresser's drawer. He hears a soft laugh from you, the taller male realizing that you were just teasing him, making him frown.

"I know. I trust you," you told him before you threw to him a spare key that you kept with you in case you lost the one you're currently using. You popped a loli into your mouth and sucked down the flavor of the sweets. "So, how'd you get in this situation? Again?" You asked him, walking towards your bed and sat on top of it.

Jongseong contemplates, before he looks back at you and your eyes stared back at him with full anticipation. He lets out a sigh. "Well, you see. Tonight, isn't that normal night," he answered, but you didn't completely understand what he meant to which you just stayed silent for, as a signal for the male to continue. "Believe it or not, I didn't bring anyone today because I'm having a test coming up tomorrow," he continued.

"That... still doesn't explain to me why you're getting stalked," you subtly persuade the male to tell you the leading cause of the unnecessary attention, but it didn't have to take any of that since Jongseong is willing to tell you everything. I mean, EVERYTHING.

He laughs softly at how impatient you are. "Just wait and listen," he mocks you in the most polite way possible, afraid that your attitude is brushing onto him. Though you don't meet often, you're the one who practically saves him from your lousy neighbors. So, it's starting to kinda reflect onto him.

You raised your arms and let the male do the speaking. "I asked to be recommended a tutor and found out one of the guys who applied is actually one of my past side flings. The same guy I told you about. The one who endlessly obsessed over me," Jongseong pointed out and you thought for a moment before you snapped your finger and points at Jongseong, your mouth agape in shock. "Yeap, yeah, exactly. I was shocked as well that he found any of my socials. It still got me thinking how he did it." Jongseong seeped air through his teeth, cocking his head to the side.

You got up from where you're sat and patted the male's back. "I may not be able to do anything about.. this. But, you'll be safe here inside," you stated out and went to pick up your towel from the rack to take a shower. "I'll only take a couple of minutes. I better not catch you peeking, Park,"

"Oh, god. Please." Jongseong scoffs at your cocky attitude, then he hears laughter from you before the door to your bathroom is shut closed. As soon as you got hidden inside of your bathroom, Jongseong hears the light taps of Charlotte's paw on the floor approaching him. She had something in here mouth. "Charlotte, don't go snooping around someone else's stuff," Jongseong gently told his pet dog who threw the item across the floor and let out a bark.

Jongseong looks at it confused. "What's this?" The male picks it up and draws it near to him. It looked like a pendant. Only it wasn't. He noticed the small crack around it, probably an opening and ran his finger over it, before it slowly opens and a music plays.

'Dear, don't fret. You are wonderful.'

It was a small holographic message. It looked too advanced, technologically speaking. Who could have made this? It's... brilliant. It feels like a memory locked in a device to help you remember. "This is... incredible. Don't you think so, too, Charlotte?" The female dog barks in reply and pants happily with her tongue out.

After a few more minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom with a fur robe on while you dried your hair with a towel. You catch the male staring, or admiring rather, at something and had a huge smile on his face. He looked very fascinated. "Whatcha got there, Jay?" The male didn't reply and continued to stare at the item. You chuckled.

You make your way towards him and only then that Jongseong is able to acknowledge your presence. "Oh, you're done? Sorry, I sorta got distracted by this. Whatever this is," Jongseong told you, the smile still etched onto his face. "It's so amazing," Jongseong makes a comment and your face splits into a smile.

You sat on the nearest chair beside the taller male and spoke up. "My dad made it for me," you shared to the male, whose mouth turned an 'o' shape in shock, turning his head to you. "He created it so I'd never feel homesick, but it only made it worse." You let out a light laugh, head hanging a little low, unable to look at Jongseong who found sympathy in you.

"You have a really great father, Y/N," Jongseong said with a soft smile. You lift your face up to look at the other male and decided that that was enough sentiment for the day and chose to tease Jongseong, again.

"And who told you to go snooping around my room?" You smirked, making Jongseong widen his eyes and point at his pet dog, who whimpers and lay flat on the floor while she covered her face with her paws, which you found incredibly cute as though she's able to understand your language. At this point, maybe she does. "I'm just kidding," you stood up from where you are sat and moved to your closet. You are about to get changed.

On instinct, Jongseong turns on his back and puts the pendant down on your table, but there is one thing he couldn't get off his mind. "I'm sorry. Y/N, just minutes ago, did you just call me 'J'?" Jongseong scrunched his face, not able to trust his ears. He might have misheard things.

As you threw on what you could see as cute in your closet, you replied with a hum. "Yeah, sorry. I should have thought first before I spoke. Does it bother you?" Your brows furrowed. You really had the the idea that you and Jongseong are already that close to be calling each other by nicknames.

Jongseong shakes his head in reply, but guessed you couldn't see. "No, not a even a bit," he answered. "It's just new to me, but I guess I'll get used to it eventually," he continued, before he heard the closet door close and the bed creak on your weight which could have only meant that you're done. "Are you finished?" He questioned for safety measures.

"Yeah. You can turn around now," you replied. Jongseong cautiously turns around, making you raise a brow. "So, you're scared of seeing a clothed body than a nude?" You scoffed.

"No, no. It's not like that. I mean you're a very close friend. And if I were to see you naked accidentally that would mean an awkward atmosphere around us," Jongseong full on explained and hearing that the male considered you as a close friend made your heart swell in happiness.

You propped yourself down on your bed with your hands. "Point taken," you told Jongseong. "By the way, if you didn't bring anyone with you tonight, then what was the noise in your room all about?" Your curiosity got the best of you as you looked over at Jongseong who had his lips pushed into a pout and a blush on his face.

Oh, it's those kind of days.

You breathed in air through your nose and tapped your feet on the floor. "Well, Jay. I have to stop by the convenience store. Anything you want?" You stood up to take out your wallet and fix a few things where your other important items are hidden.

The taller male lit up at the mention of having to go outside. "Can I come with you?" Jongseong asked, a little too excited. Almost like a kid who wants to go only for the car ride.

You turn to him, a big smile riding on his lips, before you return to securing your things. "Uhm, are you sure? Wouldn't that be a little dangerous?" You started to make your way to the clothing rack where some of your coats are hanging. "Considering you have a stalker that's on the loose," you stated to which made Jongseong knit his brows.

"Damn those pricks," Jongseong whispered under his breathe, still loud enough for you to hear though. He tried looking for excuses, but only found the shorts you are wearing. "And how about you? You can't possibly be going out with just that," he pointed out.

You looked down and faced him with an 'are you kidding me' look. "What about it? They're loose jersey shorts. You should be more concerned about yourself. You could catch a cold with what you're wearing. A tank top and thigh length shorts." you told him yet Jongseong was already on his way out with Charlotte. "What is up with this guy?"

In the end, even when you felt skeptical with other male, you still let him sleep over for the night. When you arrived, the male kept on insisting he stayed. The poor male looked shaken up by something you can't determine, so here you are in one bed with Jongseong who is barely in anything, but a boxer after you tried to resist him from sleeping on the floor and it made falling asleep hard for you.

It ain't helping either that you used to have a big fat crush on the older male when you first arrived here in this building. Keyword: USED. After you realized he had a fuckboy tendency and it just didn't seem quite right to you.

You let out a sigh and your eyes went over to the time on your clock. '2:31 A.M', it reads and all you could do is groan silently, your eyes clenched shut at your distress.

You opened the bedside lamp to at least illuminate a small portion of the room as you rubbed your stinging eyes. You feel so tired, but your thoughts are circling around your head endlessly like your own brain is trying to torture you, but you have no choice. You brought yourself onto this and now you have to pay.

You looked over to the other side to see Jongseong sleeping so soundly. Like a baby, safe in his mother's arms. At the sight, a small smile made its way up to your lips. "At least someone's able to get some sleep," you muttered out with a scoff, before you adjusted the blanket, so it covered him comfortably. He might be cold already considering that you put the temperature down a few degrees down, yet he still had the strength to get almost completely naked.

You watched him snore lightly. He looks so peaceful. Has he always looked this good in this light? You thought to yourself, as your gentle grin stayed on your face.

You gave a sigh and moved a few hair strands that got in the way of his face, but were immediately stopped by the older male who took ahold of your wrist which made you flinch. His grip was gentle.

You quickly averted your attention to his eyes which you felt started to bore holes into your skin. His face is dimly lit by the lamp on your table, but he still looked so ethereal. "Y/N, what are you doing to me?" His sudden question made you look at him confused.

He sat up from the bed, all the while the hem of the blanket falling to his waist which gave you a just right view of his structured abdominal muscles. "I... I don't understand," you replied to him, Jongseong sighing audibly loudly.

"Ever since you arrived in this building, nothing ever went well for me," Jongseong continued, that got you taken aback as you pulled your arm away from the male whose eyes lingered onto you.

You raised him a brow, feeling literally offended at what he had just said. After you let him spend the night at your apartment, this is the thanks you get from him? "Excuse me? Be at least grateful—"

"Let me finish," Jongseong cuts you off mid-sentence with a chuckle and you folded your arms on your chest and you gave him the stage, letting him hit the microphone with whatever he had to say. "See, this will sound weird, just giving you a heads up, but I just... I can't get it up," he stated.

You scoffed at him in disbelief. "And that's supposed to be MY fault?" For your entire existence you've never had a person blame you for their erectile dysfunction and hearing this from Jongseong—the male you only considered your friend right now—is blaming you that he couldn't get an erection because of you. That's just completely fucked up.

"Yes," Jongseong replied, rather more solemn than bluntly. Your jaw dropped at his reply and your instinct was to just kick him out of your apartment, but he looked like he had a lot of things going on inside his head. Before you could even reply, Jongseong faces you with a bittersweet smile riding on his lips. "Because I like you, Y/N. I've liked you since... I don't know, before we even started talking which was like almost two years ago. And I couldn't get you out of my head. I didn't want to make you feel sexualized or in any form, sexualize your image. I can't do that to you, Y/N," he said, ending with a tone that told you he is truly genuine and truly cared about you.

You could only look at him with furrowed brows, your mouth opened, but unable to make a noise. You were shocked, to say the least. In the middle of the night, all because Jongseong had a problem with his hormones, confessed to you out of nowhere. Who wouldn't be so surprised with that sudden news?

"Jay, I... uhm," you let out, hesitant.

"It's fine, Y/N. You really don't have to say anything if you don't feel like it. Besides, hearing a reply without much of any—" he is stopped the same way, but you've put a finger on his lips to make him go quiet.

"I don't need time to think about everything, Jay," you replied, a small smile on your lips. You trailed off, trying to find out how to start, but you thought giving it to him directly would be the best way. "I like you, Park Jongseong. Less than you think, though. Look, I don't know when it actually started, but it gave me the ick that you're actually a call boy, but I thought I would have done the same for a check," you laughed lightly.

"Uh, thanks?" Jongseong let out, one brow raised upward.

You sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that, I like you, Jay. I love your personality, I love the way you care for me, your dog, your family, or the way you'd always update me about—" Jongseong gave you no chance to finish what you're saying and spare you no time to adjust as he grabbed the back of your neck and planted his lips onto yours.

You were quick to process as you melted into the kiss, your eyes shutting closed while your hands instinctively found themselves in his soft bleached locks, your fingers entangled within it. Your heads and lips perfectly sync with each other, untamed thoughts circling around your head like a broken record. They were unruly, but it somehow made your heart feel full.

It's like on a winter night and you start the fireplace to warm the room. You don't even remember any sense dawning over you as you just let yourself in to the spur of the moment as though your whole life depended on it.

A few minutes in and Jongseong decides to deepen the kiss, as he slides one hand under the pit of your leg, rising ever so slowly as he lifted the bottom hem of the jersey shorts you wore, a soft moan moving past your mouth, the older male swallowing the sweet sound. You feel one side of his lips curve into a smirk, satisfied with the reaction he received from you.

You were probably gonna regret this later on; being treated like one of Jongseong's clients, but you wanted his touch. You NEEDED his touch. You craved everything he can give. You yearned for his warmth. You need him, in general.

It's like he's some kind of drug that made you suddenly feel addicted with one taste and you know for a fact that you'll never be able to get out of this sensation.

Jongseong nipped at your bottom lip, asking for permission. As a reply to his request, you slowly parted your lips for access. With not much time to lose, Jongseong (gently) delved into the depths of your wet cavern, cupping your cheeks as he started to search for your tongue.

Thinking the placement was uncomfortable, the blonde male repositions himself, so he's fully facing you, all the while never breaking contact. Your tongues danced together, both in different pace, but found a way to synchronize with each other, as though harmonizing.

Whilst your tongues played with each other, your hands went down to feel his biceps, which you found attractive with all the muscles surrounding it. Your fingers smoothly glided over the protruding skin of his arms, still too high on the kiss to even focus somewhere else other than the shape of his lips. It's like they were carved to fit yours perfectly.

For a breather, Jongseong was the first to pull away, breaking the kiss as you start to already miss the intimacy. Hearing a whimper unconsciously leave your throat, Jongseong chuckles. "In a second, angel. We still have to breathe, you know," he smirks. Right now, his sight of you just raised the gauge of his sex drive higher.

As everything had started to heat things up inside the room already, you could no longer wait. You're feeling hot and the way he looked so sexy just made you want him to just take you; make him claim you as his only possession.

While Jongseong tried to find a better position, you sunk down to become face to face with his clothed crotch. This went unnoticed by the male, not until he felt a shiver run down his spine when he felt your finger om the waistband of his boxers that he looks at you, while your eyes were already clouded with lust.

"Y/N, what are you—ah," he moans at the contact of his clothed member on your open palm, teasing him before you pulled down the only item that restricted you from its full glory, his cock coming in contact with the cold air of your room. "Shit.." The male let out when he felt your tongue line the underside of his cock.

"A-ah, Y/N. I didn't—ah," Jongseong sighed at the pure pleasure you were giving him. Out of pure desperation to aatosfy the taller male, you fit the tip of his thick rod in your mouth, which earned you a hiss from the blonde as a hand found its way on top of your hair. "Shit, Y/N, ah... stop teasing," He moaned, feeling your tongue swirl around his girth, the older male pushing his head back, feeling so much bliss.

Soon enough, your chest swelled with pride as you made a spur of the moment decision to take the whole male inside your mouth, while Jongseong hitched in place, an electrifying sensation running down his back. "FUCK!" He moaned out, unconsciously pulling at your hair.

You bobbed your head up and down, only then taking the few inches you could take inside your mouth (after a realization that he was too big to take whole) and jerked him off to compensate for it. Jongseong seeped air through his mouth, peering down at you only to see that your eyes was looking up at him as he had the perfect view of your lips perfectly curled around his cock.

He got more turned on by the sight of you and could no longer hold himself back anymore, raising his hands to hold onto the back of your head and forced his whole length inside your throat, which made you gag and choke, earning a satisfied whistle from Jongseong who chuckled and caressed your beautiful face. "I can see that you were trying, Y/N, but you weren't trying hard enough." The male smirked, then went on with his plan to assault your unaccustomed throat in a fast pace, tears forming in your eyes as they rolled themselves at the back of your head over the euphoria that Jongseong brought to you by constantly hitting the back of your throat.

"Shit, fuck," Jongseong cursed through gritted teeth, the vibrations of your moan only sending a satisfying sensation to his girthy dick, you knew immediately that he was feeling good. "So, you were waiting for this to happen all this time, huh?" He questioned you, not stopping with his erratic movements.

If you hadn't lost all your senses, you wouldn't have let yourself be treated like you're a thirsty slut, but the pleasure is unbearable and at any moment you felt like your mind will finally break.

Without thinking much about it, you nodded your head in reply and the smirk on Jongseong's face only grew wider. "Me too, babe," He said and continued on violating your mouth, resorting to a more inhuman speed and laughing darkly at how easily you submitted to him, liking the idea that if he ever felt pent he could easily just run to you and you'd just let him use you, but of course he wasn't a bad guy to take advantage of you. It's just an idea. An impossibly dream, if you must.

"Damn, angel. Didn't know your mouth could do so much wonder," Jongseong groaned, you holding onto his thighs for dear life, hoping your neck wouldn't break at how strong his thrusts were.

You knew how much Jongseong is capable of being rough with anyone, he literally goes down with any sex play—it's not eavesdropping, it's overhearing—but damn, you never knew him being this rough with you would be so fucking hot. Even having to experience it firsthand.

"Maybe we can do more than just this, Y/N. Weren't for us having to rest for our class tomorrow." It was nice of the male to think of your welfare, but it already reached this far and he'll let go with just a simple blowjob? You wished he's just joking.

Jongseong's pace went unbelievably animalistic, suddenly not caring about how you were now crying due to the pleasure, finding it fun how those tears stained your cheeks like they were the perfect decoration on your face, him abusing your throat with all the strength he had left until he started to convulse and buried his dick deep inside your throat and filled your mouth up with his cum, feeding you every last drop, not spilling anything as it ran down yoir throat.

He was a panting mess as he stared down at you, finding it adorable that you were so fucked up and was made a mess of by him.

He thrusts a few more time to ride out his high, before he caressed your cheeks softly, then pulling his now flaccid cock and puts a finger below your chin to lift your face up. "Not a single drop, darling. Open your mouth," He demanded of you, you complied as you opened your mouth with you tongue rolled out.

Jongseong, feeling satisfied, bent down to your height and kissed you on the forehead. "Well done, angel," he said, then fixed himself up and helped you up to your feet with a slight chuckle. "You're already weak to your knees? We still haven't even got to that part yet, Y/N," He teased you that immediately made you blush.

"Sh-shut up, Park," You told him, your voice a little hoarse, Jongseong being the reason why.

The next morning you woke up, with your eyes still feeling heavy and the memory of what happened im the middle of the night engraved in your head.

You soon realize that the bed was empty and the space beside you where Jongseong slept has now gone cold. It dawned over you like a bucket of cold water. "I should have known. I was just one of his clients," you mumbled to yourself.

"You're not a client, Y/N," a voice started from somewhere in the room, which startled you as you got up immediately and saw Jongseong by the window reading a book, in a bath robe.

Jongseong looks at you and you did as well. You were in different clothes. Did he get you changed? "I, uhm, I thought you left," you stumbled in your words. You didn't want to sound too desperate.

"I wouldn't. I would never," he replied, before he closes the book and approached you with I want to be your partner." Jongseong looks at you with his eyes full of sincerity and truthfulness. "If you're doubting my words, I'll prove to you by my actions. I will stop these vices," he stated out with determination in his voice.

"Jay... you weren't being stalked, were you?" You asked him which took the male aback. "You just wanted to spend time with me," you concluded that made him blush a deep red color. You found it cute at how he gets very flustered easily, before you threw your hands around him for a hug. "And I would have done the same if I were you," you said as the taller male, wrapped his arms around you to keep you close to him.

[zhelin-thames]

Danny, Dex-Starr, Cujo, Hope Corgi, and a Playdate

here you go bianca-hooks123

Masterpost

Danny, Dex-Starr, and Cujo are joined by Hope Corgi in an intergalactic park designed for Lantern Corps members and their animal companions. The park is vibrant, with floating platforms, glowing fields, and zero-gravity fetch zones.

Hope Corgi: [Bounding over to Cujo and Dex-Starr, his blue aura glowing brightly] “Friends! Friends! Playtime!”

Cujo: [Barking excitedly, tail wagging] “Woof woof!”

Dex-Starr: [Rolling his eyes] “This is ridiculous. I’m a Red Lantern. I don’t play.”

Hope Corgi drops a glowing blue ball in front of Dex-Starr and barks happily.

Hope Corgi: *“Everyone can play! Even grumpy kitties!”

Danny: [Grinning] “Go on, Dex. Don’t make the space dog sad. You don’t wanna be that guy.”

Dex-Starr: [Glaring at Danny] “I hate you.”

Danny: *“You hate everyone. It’s fine.”

Reluctantly, Dex-Starr bats the glowing ball with his paw, sending it flying across the park. Cujo and Hope Corgi immediately chase after it, barking and yipping with excitement.

Danny: [Watching the chaos unfold] “See? Isn’t this better than being mad at everything?”

Dex-Starr: [Sitting down, his tail swishing lazily] “Hmph. I’ll admit… it’s less boring than usual.”

Cujo returns with the ball, dropping it at Dex-Starr’s feet. The glowing green ecto-dog barks excitedly, and Dex-Starr can’t help but smirk slightly.

Dex-Starr: *“Fine. One more time.”

Dex-Starr launches the ball into the air with a plasma-enhanced swipe, and the game continues. Danny grins as he watches the three glowing animals tear across the park, their auras blending into a dazzling display of green, red, and blue.

As the playdate wraps up, Hope Corgi curls up next to Cujo, both dogs happily panting from the exercise. Dex-Starr perches on a nearby ledge, licking his paw and pretending not to care.

Danny: [Leaning against the ledge] “You know, for someone who doesn’t play, you seemed to have a good time.”

Dex-Starr: [Snorting] “Don’t get used to it, ghost-boy.”

Cujo trots over and plops down next to Dex-Starr, resting his head on the cat’s back. Dex-Starr tenses, then sighs, his red aura dimming almost entirely.

Dex-Starr: *“…Fine. He’s tolerable.”

Danny: [Laughing softly] “Yeah, yeah, you’re a big softie. Admit it.”

Dex-Starr growls halfheartedly but doesn’t move as Cujo starts snoring. Danny smiles, realizing he’s just witnessed a miracle: the angry Red Lantern cat letting his guard down.

[reaperexe]

Puppy ♡

Summary : When your overly energetic puppy plays wingman for you.

warnings : none, just fluff <3

Who knew raising a puppy was so difficult not in the sense of the amount of work it takes but the amount of energy the tiny little life had. Nothing could tire him, no amount of fetch, runs or walks.

So when you took him for a walk that afternoon and he somehow got off leash and went out of sight in less than a minute you knew you were in for a long walk.

You seemed to be running for hours till you reached the little puppy only to see him approach a guy sitting on the park bench with a cat near his feet. 'Wow so much for stranger danger' you thought.

The cat hisses as the little puppy approaches earning a pet from the guy as your puppy sticks his tongue out and wags his tail regardless and barks to get picked up.

You are shocked and a bit jealous to see the puppy settle so calmly in his arms when he wont even stay in yours and always wiggles to be put down.

You approach the trio, the cat eyeing you cautiously. You have to admit this guy does look pretty cute up close, maybe your puppy does have some taste after all.

"Um excuse me?" You say as he turn away from the puppy and to you, ok this guy is hot, you think.

"Oh is he yours?" He says holding out his arms with the puppy, as the little guy wags his tail and looks at you with his tongue sticking out.

"Yeah he seems to like you" You sigh with a smile 'and maybe i do too' you think.

The cat near your feet now stands up rubbing herself all over your legs while purring softly. "Seems like we got the wrong pets" He laughs petting your puppy.

"Do you wanna take a seat?" He asks noticing your state from the run behind the little puppy as you smile, embarrassed and take a seat next to him, placing the cat in your lap.

You spend the next hour just talking and exchanging names till you notice your puppy has now fallen asleep in his arms making you feel a bit jealous but also happy, seems like you've got to be close to this guy now, only for your puppy's sake of course.

"Well we should head back now" you say picking up the little guy and you notice his face falls a little but he agrees, picking up his cat from your lap.

You spend the next week taking the puppy to walk in the afternoon and like clockwork he would run up to the guy and his cat letting you have a reason to talk to him as well.

Today was different, you were exhausted from this week and all the work you had to do still you mustered up the energy and took the puppy for a walk.

He dragged you by the leash pulling you to the usual duo who sat at the bench. The guys smile dropping at your tired face.

"Everything ok? is this guy giving you trouble?" He says petting the puppy earning him tail wags and licks.

"No its not him its just work" You sigh sitting next to him as he pats the spot next to him.

"Oh it will get better trust me I'm going through it too" He chuckles as you hum along.

Talking to him honestly makes things much better, as you feel a bit energized now and finally notice how he looks today.

He's wearing a nicer sweatshirt and pants than his usual one which has loose threads at the end, his hair looks nicer, more styled and he's definitely wearing some cologne.

He smiles at you awkwardly seeing you eye him "does it look bad?" he asks honestly as your eyes widen.

"No- No you look great!" You add quickly.

"Oh great thanks" He sighs with a relieved look .

"Um i wanted to ask-" He says before being cut off by the puppy's bark for more pets causing both of you to chuckle as he pets him.

"You were saying?" You ask again tilting your head.

"Yeah i was wondering if-" He begins again only to be cut off by a meow that comes from your lap and you look down to see the cat purring for pets as well.

Laughing at the situation he musters up enough courage and yells, closing his eyes "would you like to go on a date with me?"

You sit there stunned and so do the pets you guess stilling in their places adding to the dramatic feel.

You chuckle as he eyes you nervously for a response.

"Thought you'd never ask" You chuckle causing him to sigh of relief as he smiles at you.

Sensing the energy your puppy starts bouncing with energy again before trying to lick the cat earning a aggressive hiss as you both chuckle.

"Good pet" He exhales petting both while you rest your head on his shoulder with a soft smile.

[paperclip-skz]

Love 2 Walk

Chan x reader 

Warning: fingering, kissing, the mention of nicknames (babygirl), praising, teasing, squirting, fingering, overstimulation,cream pie (wrap it up), rough sex, over clothes stimulation, I’m sure I missed smt let me know in the comments!

WC: 6.5k.... I know..

Also note: This story is HEAVLY influenced by the Webtoon series Love 4 Walk. This is just "my" version of it, you could say. I am writing to write and I recommend you read the series. *** This is not an original idea, this IS INSPIRED BY AN ANIME**

Credits to: Nuria Sanguino for the ORIGINAL webtoon story!!

Synopsis: how does one fall hopelessly in love with their neighbor? Oh, no biggy, just by walking their dog 😉.

******

Beep beep beep. 

The sun streams through the cracks in my bedroom curtains, casting warm beams of light that punctuate the shadows of the room. I squint against the brightness, feeling the dull thrum of morning settling around me. “Ugh,” I groan, reluctantly peeling my eyelids apart to greet the day. But just as I begin to indulge in a few more moments of drowsy tranquility, a sudden, playful jab from a hard little foot strikes me squarely in the side. “Ow, Bruno! Just five more minutes,” I croak out, my voice thick with sleep.

Yet, my protest is short-lived. In mere moments, Bruno, my exuberant Doberman, has taken matters into his own paws. He’s showering my face with enthusiastic kisses, the warm, wet sensations breaking through my lingering sleepiness. “Ew,” I manage to squeak out, half-heartedly stretching my arms above my head and swiping at the slobber glistening on my cheek. 

As my senses awaken fully, I finally focus on the source of my morning disturbance. There’s Bruno, sitting next to my bed with his tail wagging vigorously; the unmistakable joy radiating from him is infectious. His glossy coat shines in the sunlight, and his big, brown eyes are practically pleading with me. Any lingering frustration I had evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming wave of affection. How could I possibly stay mad at that adorable, eager face?

“Awe, who’s my baby boy?” I coo in a sing-song voice, unable to resist the allure of his charm. “Are you just bursting with excitement to go for a walk?” 

With a playful bark and a little tap dance of his paws, Bruno seems to agree emphatically. 

Thirty minutes later, after a whirlwind of getting ready, I stand by the door of my apartment, dressed in my work clothes—an elegant blouse paired with tailored trousers and my favorite heels. I take a moment to adjust my outfit, making sure everything is in place, when Bruno bounces in anticipation, ready for our quick thirty-minute adventure before my workday begins. With a final glance in the mirror and a quick pat on Bruno’s head, I open the door, stepping out into the brisk morning air, ready for whatever the day may hold….

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< 

Bruno is an exceptional dog and undeniably the best companion I could ever have. His floppy ears and wagging tail always bring a smile to my face, even when he defies my commands with his playful mischief. We have a special bond, one forged through countless adventures and quiet moments together—always Bruno and I against the world.

Yet, our daily walks have become increasingly challenging. The moment we step outside, his excitement takes over; he pulls on the leash with fervor, eager to explore every scent and sound. It feels like I’m trying to hold back a small locomotive, making it more and more difficult to keep him by my side. And then there are my shoes. Oh, my poor shoes! They’ve transformed into his favorite chew toys, often left in a state of disarray, bits of fabric hanging from his mischievous mouth. Despite his less-than-stellar listening skills, I remind myself daily of the joy he brings into my life.

Today is a special day. As I prepare to leave for work, I’m excitedly installing my brand new doggie cam—a small but powerful device that promises to give me a window into his world while I’m away. “Now, Bruno,” I tell him, crouching down so we’re eye to eye. “With this camera, I’ll be able to see everything you do, so I hope you behave yourself!” His ears perk up, flicking back and forth in what seems like focused attention, and for a moment, I almost believe he comprehends the weight of my words.

Standing at the threshold, I hesitate, reluctant to close the door fully. I peek through the small crack, watching him as he sniffs around the room, his tail wagging like a little flag of excitement. “Be good, buddy,” I say softly, my voice laced with affection and a hint of concern. With that, I finally muster the courage to shut the door, leaving him in the safety of our home—hoping he’ll have some fun but also checking in on him from afar.

**** at work

“Gooood morning” I announce. 

“Good morning Y/N” Annie greets me behind her little cubicle desk. “So when can I tell you about last night's new hottie” he exclaims, clapping her hands. 

“In one sec, just let me check my new cam.” I eagerly open my phone to check my camera…

“Oh good heavens.” my face drops in horror as I watch my Baby Bruno shred the cushions of my couch to pieces!

“What??” Annie looks at me worried, and I turn my phone to show the scary scene unfolding in my living room.

“Oh, honey.” Her face mimics mine, hurt with a mix of fright. " You need to get that dog a trainer,” she admits. 

I sigh in defeat….”I think it's time.” 

***** back at home

After the day is done and my head is pounding, I finally make it up the stairs to my apartment. I steady my hand on the door handle, unprepared to see the damage. The door creeks open and my jaw drops. 

“BRUNO WHAT DID YOU DO!” the pillows are torn, the cushions are ripped, somehow the paintings on the wall are tilled at an angle and the carpet is folded over!

“BRUNO HOW COULD YOU! BAD DOG! BAD BAD BAD!”

~~~~

“There she goes again,” Chan grobbles, lifting himself off of his bed. He slings his arm into one of his shirts and slips his socked feet into some nearby crocs. “Wait here girl, I’ll be right back”.

The familiar sound of his neighbor's high-pitched screams fills the air, a jarring reminder of her vibrant personality. She often yells about movies, her passionately animated rants echoing through the thin walls whenever she's on a call. He can almost picture her pacing back and forth, waving her arms in excitement or frustration over the latest plot twist. And then there’s her dog, a big, overly energetic creature who seems to be the target of her shouts on most days. Whether it’s scolding him for stealing a shoe, begging him to stop barking, or even adoring him for the smallest things, her voice carries down the hallway, a constant backdrop to his weary journey home.

He slams his fits against her front door, “hello!” he calls. 

The sound of her heels clicking rhythmically against the wooden floor echoed through the hallway, growing louder with each step until the door swung open. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his irritation evident in the sharpness of his voice. “Can you keep it down? Your yelling woke me up.” 

She paused at the threshold, her wide eyes filled with a mixture of apology and concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice soft and sincere. “I pro-” But her attempt to explain was abruptly interrupted as Bruno seized the moment, darting past her and out the door in a sudden, frantic escape.

“BRUNO” 

“Sit!” Chan commands firmly, his voice cutting through the air and surprising Bruno, who hadn't been anticipating the order. The suddenness of it makes Bruno halt immediately, his posture shifting as he straightens up. He glances back over his shoulder, locking eyes with Chan, seeking reassurance or perhaps understanding. 

“Sit!” Chan repeats, his tone unyielding yet encouraging. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bruno plops down right in front of Chan, a look of bewilderment etched across his face. His large, expressive eyes convey a mixture of confusion and eagerness to please.

“Good boy, come,” Chan praises, his smile widening as he encourages Bruno to follow the next command. With an enthusiastic wag of his tail, Bruno leaps to his feet, ready to obey, his previous uncertainty dissolving as he tracks Chan's movements closely. He follows each instruction effortlessly.

“Go on,” Chan says, guiding Bruno back inside. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just keep it down, will ya?” Once he looks back at his neighbor, her jaw slacks, and her eyes are blown. 

“How…how did you do that?” 

“You just have to be stern. Now I’m going back to sleep.” Chan turns back to his door, but Y/N leaps in front of him. 

“Will you train my dog?!”

~~~~~~~

“I’ll pay you!” I exclaim. This has to be a sign. A gorgeous man that just happens to live right next door to me, AND Bruno listens to me, my prayers have been answered. 

“What” he furrows his brow. 

“Just watch him while I’m away at work, train him a little so he dosn’t ruin my apartment, and….don’t steal anything” I shrug. 

“Ruin your apartment?”.....

>>>> back in the apartment

“So this is ‘ruin your apartment’” he air quotes gesturing to the mess that is my living room.

“Is it not” I question, while Bruno makes himself comfortable on my torn couch. He wags his tail happily as he chew on one of his favorite toys. 

“Fair enough” Chan walks around the living room scanning all the little details of the room. He spins on the ball of his heel, “that’ll be…$20 an hour” he says bluntly.

WHAT! I scream in my head. “$20 an hour! I work a full 8-hour shift, thats too much!”

“Yup, take it or leave it” he shrugs. 

I took a deep breath, knowing full well that adopting Bruno wasn’t merely a casual commitment; it was a full-time job that came with a mountain of responsibilities. The thought of him sitting at home alone, wanting companionship and care, tugged at my heart. To me, Bruno wasn’t just a pet; he was family, and like any family, he deserved nothing but the best. 

After contemplating, I straightened my shoulders and decided, “Fine. I’ll do it.” My voice rang with determination, surprising Chan, who blinked at me in astonishment. It seemed my willingness to accept the terms had caught him off guard.

 I couldn’t help but add, “My Bruno deserves the best.” This was more than just a job offer; it was my promise to ensure he received the love and attention he warranted.

A moment passed and I could a hint of a smile on his lips…. His rosey plump lips that I am not just noticing how beautiful they are. And how his eyes shine in the light so perfectly, or how his hair falls just above his eyes, or how broad his chest is….Y/N snap out of it!

“Okay, well then you’ll need to pay me by the end of the week, and I’ll need a spare key to your apartment.”

“Right,” my voice wavers. It suddenly hits me at once: I just invited a complete stranger into my apartment, offered to pay him, and spend time with the most important person in my life. What the hell am I doing? 

My nerves are on edge, causing me to scrutinize each and every move he makes. I observe him intently, my gaze fixed like that of a hawk, as he gently strokes the soft fur of my beloved Baby Bruno. I can’t help but notice how his fingers delicately glide over Bruno’s back, and I feel a surge of protectiveness wash over me. Every interaction seems to unravel layers of my anxiety, making me hyper-aware of the atmosphere around us.

“I can hear your nerves from here, you know” Bruno spins a s circle around Chan; his little happy dance always eases my anxiety. “Look, I was kidding about the 20-an-hour thing. 20 a week is perfectly fine.” 

My jaw shuts like a cartoon. “But- why-” 

“Becuase I know how much you love your dog” 

“But we only just met” I counter. 

“I told you I can hear everything through the walls” 

I scratch my brain trying to think what he could possibly mean…until it hits me. 

<<<<<<<<<< the past

Four months ago, I was dating this guy. We thought that before moving on to the next steps—getting married, having kids, the whole shebang—it would be best to practice responsibility together by getting a dog.

But I guess we all show our true colors under pressure.

“LET'S JUST GET RID OF THE DAMN THING!” Noah shouted at the top of his lungs.

“NO, WE ADOPTED HIM! WE TOOK ON THE RESPONSIBILITY! WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF THIS WERE OUR CHILD AND THEY WERE ACTING OUT?” I screamed back at him, tears streaking down my cheeks as I held on tightly to Bruno's body. The shattered lamp lay broken into pieces around us.

“BUT THIS ISN’T OUR KID, THIS IS JUST A DAMN DOG. THAT’S IT, Y/N, YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE, ME OR THE DAMN DOG”

After that night, I told myself I would never let anyone come between me and Bruno. If someone couldn’t understand our bond, then no one could understand me. 

>>>>>>>>>> the present 

“You heard the fight that night.” 

Chan just hums as he continues petting Bruno’s fur. “I was so pissed off that night, but once I heard you yell at him to leave, I knew you and I were the same is some ways” 

“Oh?” I question crossing my hands over my chest. 

“You and I share the same belief: people can hurt, lie, and abandon you, but dogs simply do not have it in their hearts to do the same.” He says, his eyes bleeding with truth. Even though I’ve been a dog owner for only a short time, I love Bruno more than I could ever imagine. I see his innocence, and I know he would never hurt me or anyone else without a valid reason. He’s not like everyone else in the world; he simply can’t hurt anyone.

“Wait…the same belief?” 

Chan chuckles to himself, “Yeah, I have a dog. Her name is Berry, she’s a King Charles” 

>>>>> time jump!

And so the morning training walks began. 

Chan would come over during the week and stay with Bruno until you returned home from work. He’d train Bruno to listen and obey while you worked the day away. 

Chan would also accompany you on your daily morning walk, thats when you met Berry. She was clearly Chan’s princess, feeding her only the best treats and dressing her up in tiny bows to compliment her wavy fur. 

The weeks rolled by and you and Chan became pretty good friends, quickly finding a perfect medium in your relationship….so why did your heart race every time he got a little too close? Or why did you immediately recognize his vanilla smell every time he left your apartment, and why did it make your head dizzy with need? 

>>> another time jump!

“Ahhh, Saturdays. How I adore Saturdays,” I exclaimed softly, sighing contentedly as I cradle a warm mug of coffee in my hands. The rich aroma envelops me, and I take a small, savoring sip, letting the smooth brew awaken my senses. “No work, late mornings,” I murmur, my gaze drifting out the window. The horizon glows with the gentle hues of dawn, while the sun begins to rise, casting golden rays through the leaves of the trees that sway gracefully in the soft breeze.

“Woof!” Bruno barks enthusiastically, abruptly pulling me from my serene reverie.

“Ah, Bruno,” I say, chuckling lightly. Can’t you wait just five more seconds? You just have to have your walk, don’t you?” I lean my body weight on the counter, my fingers tracing the surface as I look down at him. His head tilts to the side, a curious expression illuminating his face, and those big, expressive eyes radiate eagerness.

“I can’t lie…I’m excited too,” I admit with a grin, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet. My excitement feels palpable as if it's sparking an electric current in the air around me. 

I can't wait to see those captivating coffee-stained eyes, filled with warmth and kindness, and that broad chest—strong and dependable—it makes my mind race with ideas of how strong his arms truly are. 

Moments later, I find myself stepping out of my apartment in my bright sunshine yellow sundress. The fabric dances lightly around my knees as I clip the leash onto Bruno’s collar, ready for our afternoon adventure. Just as I’m about to close the door behind me, I hear Chan’s voice call out from a short distance away.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Chan exclaims, his friendly tone breaking the afternoon stillness.

I turn my head over my shoulder, securing my clutch with one hand as I turn the key in the lock. There, walking out of his apartment is Chan, accompanied by his delightful little dog, Berry. A smile spreads across my face as I catch sight of them. “Hey, Chan!” I reply, my excitement bubbling up as I get down on my knees to greet Berry. 

“Hey there, pretty princess!” I say, reaching out to pet Berry’s soft fur. The small brown dog wiggles with delight, her tiny tail wagging furiously as she happily responds to my touch.

Chan walks a bit closer, observing the playful antics of our dogs. “You guys going on a walk, too?” he asks, a knowing smile on his face. He watches Bruno and Berry bounce around each other like they’ve been friends for ages. Despite the stark contrast in their sizes—Bruno is a towering fluffy creature and Berry a petite little ball of energy—their friendship is evident. It’s as if Berry doesn’t even notice the size difference; her joy is contagious. 

“Yea,” I answer, lifting from my knees. 

“Can we tag along?”

>>> Saturday walk

“Why are you still at that job?!” Chan exclaims, his laughter bubbling from his chest. 

“Because it pays well,” I laugh with him. I just told him about my last boss, who got fired for accidentally showing some… sensitive material during a meeting a few months ago. “I really enjoy my job. Even though it can be a bit boring sometimes, I love being in a business that brings joy to people,” I explain.

Chan listens and nods, watching our dogs as they walk closely together. “You know, you’ve never really told me in detail what you do for work,” I say, nudging his shoulder.

“Well,” he scratches the back of his neck. I’m a producer, as you know.” I nod. " People send me voice tracks, and I make other tracks to make a song.” He shrugs, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. 

“Yes yes, you’ve told me all that before, but who have you worked for” I raise my brow intending to tease him. 

“Haha, I can’t tell you that” he mimics my earlier shrug. 

“Uugh” I groan. “Fine, if you can’t tell me who you work with, then can you at least tell me what kind of music you work on?” I ask, pleading with my eyes. 

He just smirks and thinks about it for a second, making a dramatic attempt to stall, “okay…I work on a lot of hip hop music and rap music. I also dabble in rock” he sighs out, his smile spreading across his cheeks. He so obviously proud of his work it's cute. 

“Can I hear it?” I ask biting my lip. I know I’m asking for too much, he’s already so careful around me, especially talking about his work. 

He brings us to a halt looking down at me. I can tell he’s thinking hard about this, he’s staring so intently at me, but his face softens, and he relaxes, like a weight has lifted off of his chest. 

~~~~~

This is his chance, he finally has an excuse to ask you over to his place. Its the perfect timing, the perfect reason, and the perfect way. So why can’t the words fall off his lips? 

Why can’t he take his eyes off of you and why can’t his body move?!

From the moment you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Bruno while you were busy at work, a subtle shift began to take place in the dynamic between you two. As days turned into weeks, he found himself increasingly drawn to you in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Initially, he brushed off his feelings, attributing them to mere loneliness - He thought he was just infatuated with the first beautiful girl who caught his attention.

However, everything changed the day he heard your laughter for the first time. It rang out like music, bright and infectious, enveloping him in a warmth that made his heart race. It was like fireworks shooting out of his chest, and his whole body felt like it was lifting off the ground. And your smile, god how he could never get used to that smile. He loved the way your eyes squeezed tight when your smile met your ears, he knew you couldn’t fake a smile, your real smile was just too genuine.

At that moment, he felt an undeniable spark, a realization that his feelings ran far deeper than he had ever imagined. He would catch himself stealing glances at you, captivated not just by your appearance but also by your kindness, your passion—everything that made you uniquely you. It dawned on him that what he thought was a passing fancy had transformed into something much more.

“Have dinner at my place” it tumbles out like a wall crashing down. 

“What?”

Oh shit. Make words make sense. “You can hear one of the songs I’m working on, if you come over, and since you’d be over why not just have dinner?” nice. 

Your face is the embodiment of shock, and confusion…but the second he sees that lovely smile appear he finally lets himself breath. “Okay!” you bounce. 

“Okay, so my place, lets say….6?” stay calm stay calm stay calm.

“Yea, 6 is great!”

>>>>>> that night

Okay, red dress or black? I rummage through my clothes in my closet deciding what's best to wear to a friend's dinner. Ugh, but I don’t want to be friends. What says “I don’t want to be friends I want to be more, but I also don’t want to make you uncomfortable with the wrong message”? 

Black….just go with the black dress. 

I glide my hands over the soft fabric of the outfit, feeling how it clings comfortably to my skin. The cardigan, in a rich shade of blue, perfectly complements my favorite colors, adding a vibrant touch to my overall look. My cherry red lipstick stands out brilliantly, making my eyes sparkle when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. "Finally done," I say with a satisfied smile, admiring how everything comes together.

Turning away, I notice Bruno, my faithful companion, peacefully sleeping on my bed. His fur glimmers softly in the ambient light. I can’t resist walking over to him, and I lean down to plant a gentle air kiss on his forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, my good boy." With a fond glance back at him, I head toward the door.

Its only a few short steps before I’m knocking on Chan’s door. I can hear the shuffle of him and Berry behind the wood, before the door swings open. 

“Hey!” he says, his smile reaching his eyes. 

“Hey” I giggle back. He steps aside so I can gracefully walk in and I immediately lean down to pet Berry. “Hi princess” I sing. 

“Okay okay, the princess can go to bed” he says as he leans down to pick Berry up and take her away to some hidden room.

Once he comes back he sees the pout on my face, “she was fine” I say.

“I know, but now is the time for the adults.” my cheeks flush. “Wine?”

“Love some” 

*****************

“Wow, that was incredible!” I exclaim, setting down my knife, my plate completely bare.

“Thanks,” he replies, his cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness as he leans down to collect our empty plates.

“I really mean it! I had no idea you were such a talented cook,” I tease, my voice playful and inviting.

“Ha, yeah, well, I guess we both have our secrets,” he shrugs, his eyes sparkling as he heads to the kitchen sink.

His words linger in the air. I really don’t know much about him, maybe we could change this. “How about we spice things up and play a drinking game? It’ll be a fun way to get to know each other,” I smile, raising my nearly empty glass with a seductive glimmer in my eye.

He pauses for a moment, the intrigue clear in his gaze, then settles back onto the couch, nodding in agreement. “What exactly are the rules of this drinking game?” 

I smirk, pulling my glass closer to my chest, the heat of the wine pulsing through my veins. "Alright, we play my game. You guess something about me—if you’re right, I drink; if you’re wrong, you drink. And vice versa." I let a playful glimmer dance in my eyes, the alcohol enhancing the seductive atmosphere between us.

"Okay, I’ll bite, but I get to go first," he replies with a mischievous spark. I can’t help but let a soft laugh escape my lips.

“Fine,” I shrug, my anticipation growing as I lean in slightly, inviting his guess.

“You have a boyfriend. Or a significant other,” he states confidently, raising an eyebrow.

I giggle, the bluntness of his question only adding to the intrigue. “Nope, no boyfriend here.” I lift my glass, letting the rich wine flow over my lips as I take a slow sip.

With an amused nod, he watches me, his smile radiant. “My turn,” I announce, shifting into a more relaxed position, making the moment linger.

“Your tattoo has a special meaning.” I point to the subtle peek of ink just visible on his back.

He glances at where I'm pointing, pulling his shirt down slightly to reveal more of the hidden art. “Of course,” he replies, his confidence shining through. “All my tattoos have a story.”

“All?” I tease, my curiosity piqued.

He bites his lip, teasing me with the thought of dodging my question, but it’s too late for that. He lifts his shirt, revealing a breathtaking view—a chiseled chest adorned with art. 

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, my gaze fixating on the three delicate paw prints trailing down his shoulder, but it’s the intricate compass that captivates me most. “What’s the story behind it?” I challenge.

“That’s another question,” he replies, turning to hold my gaze.

“Had to try,” I smirk, reveling in the tension hanging thick in the air.

“It’s not just about the story,” he says, searching my eyes. “It’s about the people it represents—my seven friends. I owe them everything.”

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” I muse, my thoughts spilling out, fueled by the warmth of the wine swirling in me.

He turns fully to face me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. He slowly reaches out, his fingers brushing against my ankle. “It would look stunning here,” he whispers, tracing along my skin. A flush spreads across my cheeks, and I feel the closeness ignite something primal within me.

For a heartbeat, it feels like the world has paused—our breaths mingling, the air alive with unspoken desire. “The wine is sure affecting you, huh?” he chuckles softly, never breaking that deep eye contact.

“Lightweight,” I tease, biting my lip, the game intensifying. “Do you want to stop?”

“Now that it’s my turn? Not a chance, baby,” he replies, his voice low and teasing.

A desperate want ignites within me, a need that spreads like wildfire, consuming my thoughts. “You’d be bothered if I told you I dream about you,” he confesses, caught in the moment.

A gasp slips from my lips, but truthfully, I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t drink—because I dream about him too. So, I throw back the rest of my wine, not caring about the intoxicating aftermath, only focused on the tension lingering between us.

“My turn,” I start, I set my glass on the table in front of us, and move so I can crawl towards his trembling body, “If I kiss you right now,” I come close to his body, inches away from his lips, my breath coating his skin making goosebumps appear on his muscled arms. “You’ll kiss me back” I bore into his eyes, which are pooling with lust. 

A sheer moment of silence fills the room; you can feel the heat of the moment radiating off our skin, until finally, Chan grabs hold of the back of my neck, pulling me to crash against his lips in a hungry kiss. 

It's nothing soft, or tender, its starved and greedy. His hands make their way over the sides of my thighs, pulling me across his lap so I can straddle his bulky thighs. Its then that I feel the true effects of the alcohol, his growing bulge poking my dripping core, teasing my entrance for what awaits the evening. 

I can feel his bare fingertips trace circles along my skin; his touch is so gentle compared to his kiss. His tongue demands entrance, licking past my lips, making my head spin, and the way he moves his plump lips would make any sensible women drop their panties. 

My hands grab hold of his shirt, trying to pry it off, but when I try to disconnect our lips, he just chases my lips, trying to reconnect us. I push his body to the back of the couch and watch as his eyes grow even darker than before. I lick and bite my lower lip and that seems to be the end of the line for Chan; with his big hands, he grabs the underside of my thighs, lifting me up along with himself. He carries me to a secluded room with a massive bed. 

He throws me across the mattress, letting my back settle into the cushions, but not for long because within less than a minute, he flips me over like I weigh nothing, and his hands immediately palm my ass. His hands grab the rim of my dress, throwing it over my ass enough where he has access. I fist the sheets and press my thighs together, feeling how much arousal has already pooled in my panties. 

Suddenly, I felt Chan’s front press against my back. I don’t know when he did it, but I feel the warmth of his bare chest covering my back. Even through the sheer fabric of the dress, I can feel his warm, bare body. “I can be a gentleman, or I can be a madman. Which do you want?”

His words make me moan, and my mind races with what other man I could see tonight. I think about how Chan could be a gentleman, treating me kindly while he fucks me nice a slow, claiming me like I’m his prey. But then a part of me, a deeper, hornier part of me, the pit of my belly burns with the need to see the madness in Chan. The side of him that shows no bounds, that could fuck me into tomorrow without warning. 

“Show me your wild side,” I smirk, letting my body buzz with excitement.

I feel the growl in his chest and pull the fabric from his teeth. His fingers trail up to the zipper of the dress, pulling it all the way down until most of my back shows. I let my arms slip through the holes, and he pulls it down until it's bunched up at my hips. 

The next thing he does is tear my panties apart, shredding the garment and tossing it to the side. I squirm in the sheets making him groan as I wiggle my ass in the air.  

He palms my ass hard enough that I’m sure it will leave marks in the morning. I can feel his finger tracing along the slit of my glistening pussy, playing with my folds, before finally I feel the stretch of a single girthy finger enter pass my fold. I moan at the feeling of the slight stretch; it's not the burning stretch my body craved, but I’ll take anything at this point. 

“Fuck this pussy is so greedy, look at your cunt sucking my finger in” he continues to pump his finger slowly into, spreading my wetness all around my folds, making my body squirm more. He harshly grabs hold of my hip with his other hand, his finger still holding place inside me. “You’ll take what I fucking give you” 

His harsh words only send sparks throughout my body, doing nothing but heat up the desire bubbling inside me. “more,” I whine out, rocking my ass against his finger, trying to get more friction. 

“More?” he questions, leaning in to kiss my left asscheek. “Say please” he growls against my skin. 

“Please” 

“Good girl,” without warning, he adds another finger past my folds and starts pumping both with no mercy, making my whole body shake. 

I scream as I feel my insides tremble from the cheer power Chan holds in one hand. Its in mere seconds that my body is shaking with my first orgasm of the night, but he doesn’t stop until I’m squirting, making a mess against his skin. I can feel the small feather lgght kiss against my ass, just like before, when he removes his fingers, letting my body squirm as it pleases. 

“Your so goddamn beautiful,” he growls. My body flops right side up, letting my back spress against the mattress. But I’m only allowed two breaths before Chan seizes our lips together, his hard member poking in between my thighs.I could sense his growing impatience, the way his teasing touch ignited a fire within me. Yet, beneath that playful exterior, I knew he was battling his own inner turmoil, wrestling with desire and frustration. The tension hung thick in the air, a delicious mix of longing and urgency that only drew us closer.

I slide my hand down to feel the smooth skin of his length and start pumping the coat of precum around his angry tip. He pulls away, but not before biting my lip and sucking in a breath. “Fuck” he breathes. 

“Me” I whisper back. 

~~~~~

Fuck, you are so tight around him. Even when your dripping cunt soaks him, he still feels your tight grip. Tight enough to feel like a warm vise wrapped around his cock, and oh did it feel good.

He slides his hand to your hip, holding you in place and ensuring you won't squirm away. "Don't tense up, I won't be able to last." He grits out between his teeth.

"I won't," you hiss out as he sinks another inch past your wet folds. "fuck your so big"

Chan couldn't help but puff his chest at your words. "Too big?" Was it wrong that your words turned him on more?

"no. give me more," you moan out.......no, no, it was not.

He wanted to take things slow, inching further into you so you could easily take all of him, but you just haaad to say the magic words.

he ventures in another inch or two and sighs as he hears your moans of approval. then he slips out to the tip, coating himself in your slickness before shunting his hips forward, hitting a deeper part of you that sends you gasping for air.

Fuck, you were so tight. He shut his eyes as he felt you spasming around his length. "m-more," you grunted. Barely holding yourself up.

"you don't know what your asking for" 

"yes I do, I can feel you holding back" he knew it too. He wasn't one to brag, but he knew how big he was, and from the way he so badly wanted you, it was taking every bit of willpower in him not to pound into you like some uncaged beast.

"I need to take my time, or else I might hurt you," he breathed out.

"I don't care if it hurts. I need you. Now, please." Your wines were like music to his ears. A hidden melody that he didn't know he needed.

He slowly eased out of your pussy, relishing on how your walls clung to him and how the slickness felt like butter. "fuck I need this pussy" he voiced his thoughts.

"then fucking take it. Claim it. Take me"

That was it. That was the last straw. Chan shifted your angle, taking your arms in his and using it as leverage to fuck into you. Chan's hips snapped forward, meeting your shaking form at tenfold.

all thoughts of what could hurt you were clouded by lust as more wetness coated the space between your bodies. Your hips bucked against his, and meeting his thrust sent shockwaves of more pleasure through you.

It was rough. It was wild. It was precisely what you needed and wanted at the same time. You asked him to claim you, and by goddamn it, he was going to make sure he was imprinted so deep inside you that you couldn't take any cock but his for the rest of your life.

You didn't have to worry about laying any claim on Chan. He was yours even before you started your walks. He was yours when he saw who you are. You already owned him, mind, body, and soul. The cherry on top was that each thrust of his hips sent another moan echoing around the room that tightened your hold on him.

He leaned back just enough to see what he was doing to you. he could see the way his dick disappeared into your tight pussy. "tell me you on the pill," he practically whined.

"yes, don't pull out."

He could feel you tightening around him, and he wasn't far behind. The feeling of his balls fighting the urge to finally release the pent-up tightness became painful.

He let one of your arms go to balance yourself as he snuck in below the both of you and down to pinch your clit between his fingers. That in itself sent you screaming, sobbing, begging, your tight cunt gripping his length so hard he could barely keep thrusting in and out of you.

That was his official undoing. He let go. Unloading inside you and releasing a sigh that sounded like waves crashing on the beach.

He stayed there for a moment, letting both your orgasms settle in before either of you said another word.

Once the heat of the moment settled and he slipped out of you. 

 he watched his cum drip out, and he won't deny it made his cock twitch.

"Jesus Christ, you should see how beautiful you look right now" he says under his breath.

"I think I'll take your word for it," and just like that, he found your whole body flattened against the bed, basically passed out.

"you okay?" he says, half jokingly, half worried. you just hold up an easy thumbs up before closing your eyes and letting sleep take over.

Chan laughs to himself and carries you to lean against the pillows the right way, and maneuvers you under the covers. He'll clean you up in the morning.

He slips in beside you, giving you a small kiss and whispering goodnight to you. You hum. Content and warm, and drawn to that same warmth, you cuddle up into Chan's side.

"We are going to have so much fun together."

*******

AN: I'm making so many Chan fics lately that I almost feel bad. But if yall want to see a specific member please let me know I'm more than happy to fulfill comments/asks/ etc!! love yall.

p.s/ also I'm not sure if yall know this but I make all the banners on my page including the small ones on my ko-fi. I only say this because I had an ask earlier asking about where I get my banners or where I go to find these photos, the photos I take from google but all the color, wording, fonts, etc I make myself !! 

[colourstreakgryffin]

So…

Alastor is a deer, yes? How would a relationship with him and a Coyote Reader go, I’ve been having brain rot over it for the past few days, it’s just to ironic

Much love xoxo

I definitely can do! Hehe. I love contrasts like this and I think about stuff like this too. I chose bears, not coyotes. It’s so silly yet perfect! Alastor out here hating dogs so this’ll be an enemies to lovers thing… not my favourite but new

Alastor- The Prey and the Predator

Let’s get this clear… Alastor does not like dogs. He actively dislikes dogs so when he finds you. A coyote sinner, he is not interested and he’ll avoid you like the plague. You remind him too much of the dogs of his past that he despises

For a while, Alastor has a one-sided disliking towards you. Solely because you’re a Coyote sinner but after some more time of working/staying at the hotel. He begins to examine you more as a person and less for your canine features

And he realises just how much of a prick he was being for… mostly no reason. You are a dog on the outside but you’re a dove on the inside, Alastor supposed he can try get around the whole Coyote thing you have… it’s not like you want to be a Coyote

Alastor goes from ignoring and snarling at you openly to shyly approaching you with a bouquet of roses and asking for you to forgive him. It’s so interesting how hew went from closed-off, uncaring and hateful to your overall presence to clearly having a fat crush on you. Your personality is beautiful, he eventually can ignore the dog features

Now. If you think you’re the one who’s dom in this relationship, just because you’re the coyote and Al’s the deer. You’re very wrong. Al’s a predator in a prey’s body, a wolf in deer’s fur. He is in charge and he’s the one hunting you down

Alastor has a mix of prey and predator instincts around you when you’re angry. He has the urge to subdue you when you’re in your own predator instincts mode but he also has the urge to avoid you. His predator urges always wins though

However, you swear you can smell delicious fresh venison off the Radio Demon… he does smell gorgeous but you’re not a cannibal like that

Alastor actually can’t help but find the way your tail wags when he pets through your ears and the soft dog-like whines of happiness you let out when hugging him… insanely cute. He may not like dogs but he has a exception for this precious coyote

Alastor doesn’t find it funny when you joke about eating him. It’s quite a sensitive topic and he regularly asks you to not make any type of joke, such as that. This connection you share with him may have grown from being a one-sided hatred to a full-blown relationship but that doesn’t mean he will completely excuse all dog-like mannerisms you have

Alastor actually really likes it when you climb into his lap and curl up. You’re the same size as Vaggie, maybe a bit taller. You’re a shorter person but you’re not so small to be identified as an actual Coyote, you just have the ears and tail but yet. Here you are, curled up and sleeping in his lap in the most canine-like way possible

Alastor has a bad sense of general personal hygiene but yet, he needs you to regularly check up on your own personal hygiene since he cannot stand the smell of your wet dirty fur…

Angel Dust definitely gave you a collar and leash for your birthday, as a sick joke and Alastor is like… “may we use it?”

Alastor enjoys grooming your fur. Your soft, you may let out a few coyote growls here and there but you’re not going to hurt him so he can trust you to stay obedient and still whilst he brushes through your ears and tail

Alastor has made a cute and convenient rule with you; you both communicate in emergencies through animal noises. You’ll bark coyote-like out, he’ll bleat deer-like out. It’s the way you two alarm each other of something happening. The second you bark, he knows something is going down and you’re calling for him

Alastor lets you touch him and his deer features, no problem and no need for permission. Your claws aren’t that strong and all you really have is incredible speed, agility, jaw strength and night vision. You don’t actually have any ability to harm him, even when he flinches here and there, out of pure instinct

Alastor calls you a ‘bitch’ all the time to other people and out loud, all to screw and mess around with you. He’s an asshole of a classy gentleman, he’ll be offensive. Even to his partner! Yes, you’re a bitch but you’re his bitch

Alastor, at one point, will finally open up about his trauma centred around dogs and explain to you exactly why he treated you so awfully at first. How he went from a hater to a lover. He is so glad you’re quite understanding and patient with him so when he lays down the rules of your relationship with him, you accept them and that grows his love for you even more

You’re incredible, for being part a wild vicious canine such as a Coyote, darling~!

“My dear. Let’s ease up on the growling, what’s gotten you so irritate? Did you get into another disagreement with my fellow, Husk?”

[diamonddaze01]

Hiii!! I love your little stables, they’re so fun!

Could you do dk + prompt 75? Thank you!

dog days

pairing: seokmin x reader | wc: 1.4k prompt: “guess who's going to be a father!” a/n: i had WAYYYYY too much fun with this lol

The text leaves your phone with an almost sinister delight. 

Y/N: guess who’s going to be a father?

You set the phone down with an almost wicked sense of satisfaction and glance over at the tiny furball gnawing on her brand-new squeaky toy. Her tiny tail wags in a blur, like a metronome set to excitement. "Your dad is going to lose it," you whisper, crouching to ruffle her floppy ears. She yips in response, her voice more like a squeaky hinge than a bark, almost as if she’s in on the joke.

She’s a whirlwind of fluff, waddling around with the toy clutched tightly in her mouth, her big brown eyes blinking up at you innocently. It all started this morning when you were just out for a casual shopping trip. You had no intention of adopting a dog—not even close—but when you passed by the animal shelter and saw her? Well, the universe had other plans.

You'd been walking down the street, listlessly browsing, when the soft, pitiful whine of a puppy reached your ears from behind a small, open door. On impulse, you stepped closer to the shelter, your curiosity getting the best of you. And that’s when you saw her—her tiny face peeking out of her kennel, eyes wide with innocence, a little tail wagging furiously despite her rough start in life.

Without a second thought, you found yourself in the shelter’s lobby, filling out adoption papers. You’d been telling yourself you just wanted to look, but in reality, you’d fallen head over heels before you even knew what was happening. She was a mess of floppy ears and big eyes, and as soon as she licked your hand for the first time, it was over.

By the time you picked her up, a full plan had already formed in your head. Seokmin had been so busy with work, and this is just what he needed (but of course, you had to have your fun first). A surprise like this would shake him out of his routine—and you just couldn’t resist.

Your phone buzzes again, snapping you out of your thoughts. Seokmin’s name lights up the screen. His frantic texts and calls flood in immediately:

minnie 💖: what minnie 💖: wha the fuck minnie 💖: what do you MEAN minnie 💖: FATHER??????? minnie 💖: are u being serious minnie 💖: this is a prank minnie 💖: why arent u responding minnie 💖: baby minnie 💖: BABY minnie 💖: do NOT leave me hanging minnie 💖: HELLO????? minnie 💖: wait minnie 💖: are you ok? minnie 💖: baby ur killing me here minnie 💖: RESPOND

You smirk, choosing to let him stew for a few more minutes. You respond with a cool, collected message: 

Y/N: come home after work we can talk

And as an added bonus, you type out: 

Y/N: love you, daddy 

That’s all it takes. Less than twenty minutes later, you hear the screech of tires outside. A car door slams, followed by the unmistakable sound of Seokmin rushing through the front door, slamming it against the wall with enough force to rattle the nearby picture frames.

"Baby!" His voice is pitched somewhere between panic and determination as he strides inside. His tie is hanging loose, his hair is a messy mop from a long day, and his work bag is hanging off one shoulder like it could tumble off at any moment. He looks like he’s barely holding it together.

His eyes dart around the room, landing on you. His breath is shallow, his pulse racing.

"But we were so careful," he blurts, pacing in frantic circles, running his hands through his hair. "How could this even happen? Wait, no, I do know how, but how?!"

"Seokmin, I—"

"Are you okay?" he interrupts, his voice climbing an octave. "Do you feel okay? Should we go to the doctor? Oh my god, we need to go to the doctor, right? Just to be safe—"

"Seokmin, please—"

"And—wait, wait, okay," he halts abruptly, hands on his hips as if to steady himself, trying to ground himself in the chaos. "Okay. Okay. Let's just not panic."

"That’s what I’m trying to say—"

"We’re adults," he continues, the words spilling out in a rush. "We love each other. We can handle this, right? We can—"

"Seokmin!"

The sharpness in your voice cuts through the tornado of his thoughts. His shoulders stiffen, and he stops mid-step, his brows knitting together in confusion.

"What?"

Before you can answer, the soft sound of tiny paws skittering across the floor reaches your ears. Seokmin freezes, his gaze snapping toward the hallway. Then, like a bolt of lightning, his eyes widen, watching as the little puppy comes careening into the room, ears flopping wildly as she tumbles, regains her footing, and barrels straight toward him. Her tail wags so fast it looks like it might take flight, and she lets out an adorably squeaky bark.

He stares.

"You… got a dog?" His voice cracks slightly as his hands fall limply to his sides, the weight of realization hitting him like a freight train.

You grin, crouching down to scoop the puppy into your arms. "No, baby. We got a dog. She was supposed to be your birthday present, but I got too excited."

Seokmin blinks, looking between you and the puppy, his face a mixture of shock and relief. Then it all clicks. "So, you’re not… pregnant?" His words are slow, as if testing out the possibility that he might have completely misread the situation.

You laugh, shaking your head. "No, that’s what I was trying to tell you. But you are a dad now. Go ahead—give your daughter some kisses."

A beat of silence passes as Seokmin processes your words. Then, without another word, he drops down to his knees, cradling the puppy with absolute reverence. His hands are gentle, like he’s afraid to break her, and he presses his nose into her soft fur. "She’s so tiny," he whispers, completely enamored. "I thought I was going to have to Google how to change diapers, but this?" His smile widens as he kisses her head again, his voice soft and full of adoration. "This I can definitely do. Welcome to the family, baby girl."

You slip your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back as you watch the scene unfold. "I knew you’d be a natural," you tease, your voice light, the warmth between you both undeniable.

He looks back at you with a soft laugh. "What should we name her?"

You nudge him playfully. "I don’t know, you’re the dad. You choose."

Seokmin pauses, staring at the puppy who is now rolling around in his lap. After a few moments of consideration, he looks up at you with an almost mischievous grin. "We should name her Panic."

You blink, caught off guard. "Panic?"

"Yeah," he says, laughing sheepishly. "Because that’s what I felt the most before I met her. And honestly? She feels worth the panic."

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. "Fine, but don’t come crying to me when she chews up your shoes."

Seokmin grins, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, come on. You know she’s going to chew your shoes first."

Just as the words leave his mouth, the puppy squirms free from his arms and rolls onto the floor, scurrying toward her squeaky toy. She immediately goes to town, gnawing at it with all the enthusiasm she can muster. The sound of her tiny jaws working on the plastic toy fills the room.

"She’s got your energy," you murmur, leaning against Seokmin as he pulls you in closer, wrapping his arms around you.

"And your sass," he counters, pressing a kiss to your temple. He looks down at the puppy with a smile that says everything. "She’s perfect."

You both sit there, watching her wrestle with the squeaky toy. The chaos, the mess—it’s all so natural now. Seokmin pulls you closer, and you lean into him, the warmth of his body against yours a perfect match. The puppy, now calm and content in Seokmin’s arms, looks up at both of you, as if she knows she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

"So," Seokmin starts softly, his voice still filled with wonder. "We’re doing this, huh?"

You smile, watching him cuddle the puppy like she’s the greatest thing he’s ever held. "Yeah," you say, voice soft. "We’re doing this."

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[lipglossanon]

Bound For The Floor

dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x puppy!fem reader (one shot)

Dedicated to 🍁 anon! I hope you enjoy it!! 💜 😘

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader is mid 20’s with Leon being older, appearances from Ark Thompson and Chris Redfield, jealous Leon, masturbation, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, knotting, biting, aftercare

looked over a smidge 🤏

Title from Bound for the Floor by Local H

It’s raining the day you’re brought home. To your new home. You’ve been chosen by a man with kind eyes to keep his other hybrid company while he works. He smells nice and he’s gentle when handling you so you’re more than amenable to joining his little family. Ark is his name, kinda funny but you think it’ll be super easy to remember since it rhymes with bark— something you’re very good at when called for (not that good pups bark a lot). 

He talks to you on the drive from the adoption agency to his home, explaining his routine and describing the dogman you’ll be living with from now on as well. Ark even shows you a picture of Leon on his phone while you’re stopped at a redlight, making your tail wag in excitement at meeting the rugged looking hybrid. 

In shy, halting words, you tell him about your short stint at the adoption agency. Raised with only caretakers, they finally gave you over to the agency fairly recently in the hope of finding you a forever home. You’ve experienced nothing but kindness and understanding with the outside world which might make you a little naive; however, it does nothing to dilute how happy you are at the opportunity to have your very first owner. 

“Leon, we’re home!” Ark calls out into the empty foyer as he sets all of your things down on the floor. 

Your eyes are comically big as you take in everything around you, nose scenting the air and picking up a delicious smell that has you drifting further into the house. A gruff hum pulls your attention to the hybrid Ark had called Leon. 

You smile at him, tail wagging nonstop, “Hi!”

His lip curls in distaste but he only stares you down without saying anything. 

“Leon,” Ark’s voice lilts in warning, “be nice.”

Leon rolls his eyes with a snort, but walks closer to you.

“Hello,” he grits out and your tail wags harder. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you smile even bigger. 

“Get along, okay?” Your owner ruffles your ears and you turn your bright smile to him. 

Nodding, you hum in agreement. Ark shoots another stern look to Leon and walks off further into the house. 

“You smell nice,” you offer up to the serious dogman in front of you, “I’ve never smelled anyone as good as you before.”

A red flush bridges his nose and cheeks as he shrugs, “Yeah, right.”

You pout, “I mean it. Can I scent you?”

His body stiffens in place as his look shifts from disbelief to sheer surprise. 

“Uh, I guess—“

“Great!” You walk forward until your chests are nearly touching, “I’ve only ever done this with my litter mates, so I’m unsure on how to scent someone else.”

You can see Leon swallow as he tilts his head, “Oh? You smell like a kennel.”

You laugh, missing his gaze raking down your body, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting on our owner for a day and they keep us in a kennel so nothing happens before the adoption.”

Leon nods although you’ll come to find later that his adoption was much rougher and less pleasant than your own experience. 

You lean forward and bury your nose against his neck, whimpering when you can smell him unencumbered. You breathe in freshly mown grass and a spicy musk that has your mouth watering. Snuffling against him, you don’t realize you’re rolling your hips against his. 

Leon hands grip your hips but he only helps you rock yourself against him in a way that makes you whine and pant against his skin. Distantly, you feel his nose press against your neck and breathe in your own scent. He growls and you whine, tilting your head so he can nip and lick at your soft skin. 

With a low growl, Leon pries himself away from you even as you chase after the pleasurable feeling coursing through your body. 

“Behave, pup,” he murmurs in your ear and you let him pull away. 

“Leon,” you whine at him, pawing his chest as you watch him close his eyes and take a steady breath. 

“I need to go find our owner, stay here,” he walks you over to the couch and presses you down on the soft cushions.

When you go to rise as he steps back he holds his hand out.

“Stay. Be a good girl for me.”

You go hot all over, “Okay.”

His eyes darken but he turns and leaves the room, bringing Ark back after a few minutes.

“I feel hot,” you slur out, eyes pleading up at the men in front of you.

Leon stands behind Ark, stiff as a board while he watches. 

“Poor thing,” Ark soothes, softly rubbing your ears, “looks like Leon may have triggered an early heat.”

You sigh as Ark gently massages your ears and temples.

“Leon, can you take the rest of her things up to her room? I’ll carry her up and we’ll let her rest,” your owner says over his shoulder and your eyes track Leon as he leaves the room. 

“I want—“

“I know,” Ark sighs, “but let’s get you settled in and some meds in you. Tomorrow you’ll feel better.”

“M’kay,” you mumble, slumping into his chest as he picks you up bridal style. 

You feel him set you on a soft bed and coax you to swallow some icky tasting medicine before allowing you to drift off to sleep. At some point in the night, that delicious smell from earlier seeps into your brain and has you maneuvering until your face is buried in a warm chest. A low pleased rumble makes you press the dough of your thighs together as you sink deeper into sleep. 

The next morning you wake up to the door opening. 

“Leon,” Ark’s voice sighs out, “I thought I told you to let her rest.”

Arms snake out to wrap around your back and pull you further into the warm body in front of you. 

“I was here in case she needed something,” the dogman’s rough voice sent goosebumps skating across your skin. 

Ark’s palm brushes across your ears and you giggle and turn in Leon’s arms to look up at your owner. 

“Are you feeling better?” His brown eyes pinch with worry. 

“Much better,” you smile, “just a little tired.”

Ark’s eyes crinkles when he smiles in relief, “Good. I’ll let you rest some more. Leon can help you if you need anything.”

Your owner ruffles first your ears then Leon’s before slipping back out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Feeling shy, you shimmy away from Leon and climb out of bed. 

“Thank you for looking out for me,” you tug on a loose thread on your shirt.

He grunts in acknowledgment and you look over into his face. His blue eyes stare you down for a split second before he climbs out of bed as well. 

“Yeah, well s’only the right thing to do,” he mutters, “make sure to take those meds.”

He jerks his head to the nightstand behind you and you see that Ark must have brought up medicine and water when he checked in on you. 

“I will,” you nod, smiling at the grumpy dogman as he brushes his hair back, “thanks, Leon.”

“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off, following in Ark’s footsteps as he slips out of your room. 

You quickly take the heat suppressants and smile to yourself. It’s nice having a friend. Crawling back into bed, you shove your face in the pillow Leon used and sigh happily. He just smells so good! Your tail thumps against the bed as you breathe in his scent more. A small whine parts your lips as your cunt grows hot and wet, clit throbbing as the smell of fresh grass and spice fill your nose. 

You can’t help yourself as your fingers slip beneath the band of your underwear to tease across your slit. Panting against the pillow, you hump your fingers and let yourself pretend they were bigger and thicker. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, slick coating your hand along with the gusset of your panties. A yawn overtakes you and before you can get up to change, you fall asleep with your face buried in Leon’s scent. 

After that weird welcome home, Leon pretty much keeps to himself. When Ark’s around, he’s nearby, but acts aloof and distant if you try to befriend him. You’re really bummed out, and you don’t want him to snap at you like he did at the neighbor’s hybrid, a nice boy named Steve, so you just try to be polite and stay out of his way. You’re pretty much glued to your owner’s side anyways. He smells almost as good as Leon, like fresh coffee and leaves, so you’re constantly trying to sit in his lap. 

Leon always snarls his lip when he sees you snuggled up to Ark, letting him pet your ears and tail while he watches tv or reads. The first time you offered to move so Leon could get his ears rubbed, he turned his nose up and sat on the other side of the room; since then, you ignore him and happily enjoy Ark’s soft head pats.

But, every now and then, Leon does something nice that makes your heart flutter and leads you to think he likes you more than he shows. Falling asleep on the couch and then waking up in your bed, seeing your favorite food already prepared for lunch, or even simple chores being done before you get to them. Those little things have you seeking him out in thanks, but he always waves you away with a gruff word paired with a small blush on his cheekbones. 

One day, you come home from your walk with Ark only to smell someone new. Your ears perk up as your owner chuckles and gestures for you to walk on into the house while he takes off his shoes. Quickly beelining to the living room where the smell is stronger (a nice blend of sandalwood and vanilla), you stop in place to see Leon laughing at something another dogman is saying. 

“Oh, hello,” you give a shy wave to the two sitting on the couch. 

Leon glances over at you, eyes darting from you to the hybrid next to him. The stranger gives you a wide smile, drawing your eyes to his heavily stubbled jaw. 

“Hi, I’m Chris, you must be Leon’s new pup,” he grins over at the quiet dogman. 

You feel a flush of warmth spread throughout your chest from his words.

“She’s not my pup,” Leon mutters under his breath, but you still hear it making your smile a little dimmer. 

Chris ignores his friend and pats the spot open to his left, “Sit next to me so I can get to know you.”

You nod your head and walk a wide half circle to avoid being in Leon’s space to sit on the couch beside Chris. Quickly taking in his appearance, your tail wags when he smiles at you again. 

“I’ve been meaning to come over for a while. If I’d have known Leon had such cute company, it would’ve been sooner,” he angles his head to wink at you and one of his ears tilts back. 

Smiling, you shrug, “Well maybe you can visit more now. I love making new friends.”

Chris laughs and it causes your tail to thump against the couch. Unbeknownst to you, Leon tenses and elbows Chris in the ribs. 

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay, I’m pretty sure my owner is looking for me by now,” Chris lumbers to his feet and you have to crane your neck to keep eye contact.

“I’ll see you to the door,” Leon stands next. 

You wave while Leon practically steers Chris out of the room. 

“It’s nice meeting you,” Chris calls out before rounding the corner. 

“You too!” You move from the living room to watch Leon close the door behind his friend. 

“He’s nice,” you offer, smiling at the dogman. 

Leon grunts, “Chris is okay.”

You pause, not really understanding why Leon seems upset with you. 

“If-if you want to hang out alone with him, I can ask Ark to take me for walks when he visits,” you fiddle with your shirt hem, “I don’t want to get in your way or anything.”

Leon doesn’t say anything and you nod, slipping off to your room. Your chest hurts with disappointment leading you to curl up in a ball in the center of your bed, falling into a fitful sleep. Later the snick of your door shutting has you raising your head up, eyes slowly adjusting to the figure walking to your bed. 

“Leon?” Your voice rasps with sleep. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, kneeling on your bed before shifting until he can lay down, pulling your back to his chest, arms encircling your waist.

You stiffen against him, confused as to what he’s doing there. 

“I’m sorry,” he presses the words against your ear, “I’ve been pretty rude to you and it’s nothing you’ve done. From here on out, I’m gonna treat you better.”

You hum happily, “Thanks, Leon.”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

“Sure,” you yawn, sleep already tugging your eyelids closed, “‘m happy we’re friends.”

“Friends,” he laughs to himself, “right.”

Weeks go by and Leon is true to his word. He’s more friendly and hangs around you even without Ark being around. He’s also way more touchy feely to your delight. Constantly scent marking you before you leave the house on your walks, going so far as to let you borrow his clothes if Ark is taking you to the park or even out while he shops. 

It makes those butterflies in your chest swarm and your heart beat fast whenever he does those kinds of things. And since he never asks for his shirts back, you wear them to bed, hands tucked into your panties as you breathe in his scent and get yourself off. You would feel a bit bad, but you see how Leon stares at you the next day—like he can smell the effect he has on you and it makes your skin buzz. 

There’s no telling how long this would have gone on, but luckily for you, Ark forgot to refill your meds and he’s out for the night, leaving you and Leon home alone. You truly only meant to tease the handsome dogman, make him feel as out of sorts as you do when he’s around; however, you didn’t realize how much being off of your medicine would affect you. 

Just being next to him on the couch as you watch television is making your palms sweat and your nipples hard. Trying to sit still is impossible. The more you shift around, the more uncomfortable you are until Leon’s hand comes down on your thigh like a hot brand on your skin. Whimpering, you press the dough of your thighs together, squishing his fingers in between the soft skin. 

“What’s gotten into you?” His low voice rumbles through your ears making your cunt leak into your panties. 

Not thinking it through, you sit up into a kneel and clamber onto his lap. 

“It’s hot,” you whine, grinding yourself down onto him, “want you to make me feel better, Leon.”

“Wha—“

You swivel your hips and feel his cock thicken underneath your ass, pressing against the seam of your shorts and making your eyelashes flutter. 

With a groan, Leon grabs your hips to stop them from bouncing down on his bulge. 

“Sweetheart—“

His voice dips out into a low moan as you lap at a sensitive spot on his neck before licking the shell of his ear. You feel his cock twitch and kick against your clothed pussy and it makes you whine. 

“B-bad girl,” he hisses, head falling back against the couch, ears flopping, “bad girl, bad p-puppy, oh fuck.”

You nip his bottom lip before messily licking into his mouth, grinding down on his thick cock as he leaks enough precum to stain his sweats. 

“Puppy, stop,” he groans, “we can’t, oh god, you need your meds and Ark—“

“He’s out with friends,” you pout, rocking your hips just right so your clit rubs against the seam of your shorts sending a sharp zing through your body, “and I don’t have any more medicine.”

“You never listen,” he growls and your tail droops. 

You let out a surprised squeal when Leon shifts off the couch to press you down into the floor. 

“Need me to stuff your pussy, huh?” he bites your ear, making you whimper, “‘m gonna be the only one sniffing around your greedy little cunt.”

Your eyes roll back when he dry humps your pussy, grinding the thick outline of his cock right against your wet slit. 

“First I wanna see if you taste as good as you smell,” he kisses you heatedly before moving down your body. 

He slips your shorts off and tosses them across the living room. Leon buries his nose between your legs, sniffing across your soaked panties. The fabric sticks to your chubby pussy lips allowing Leon to lick at your clit easily. 

“Oh, oh,” you moan, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, softly rubbing over his fuzzy ears.

He grunts and laps up the slick leaking down your thighs before pushing your panties to the side to lap at your hole. 

“Taste so good,” his muffled voice causes vibrations that make your toes curl, “mmm could eat your little cunt all day.”

“Leon, please,” you hump against his mouth, eyes locked on his blown out gaze.

He hums and the vibrations make your clit tingle as more slick drips onto his tongue. The thick muscle slides in and out of your hole before he licks his way back up to your clit, softly sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. Your thighs tremble as his rough sandpaper tongue swirls around your pudgy clit before sucking it gently. 

“So good,” you whimper, thighs falling open as far as they can go while your tail wags, “Leon.”

He growls, tongue fucking your pussy until sloppy wet sounds fill the room. His broad hands grab underneath your knees to shove your legs up to your chest. Pulling back, you moan as he spits on your cunt quickly followed by him burying his face against your soaked pussy. His rough stubble makes you squeal and pant while he licks and sucks your pussy lips. 

“So soft and wet, pup,” he grunts, pulling back to finally shed himself of the rest of his clothes. 

He strokes his cock to take the edge off and your mouth waters at the precum beading at the tip. With a groan, he notches the tip against your hole and glides the fat head up to smack against your clit. He presses his hips flush against you and you whine, the feel of the blood hot skin of his cock pulsing against your pussy. 

“Look how deep it’s gonna reach, pup,” his voice rumbles low in his chest, making your nipples ache.

He uses his thumb to press his tip down against your skin as your bleary eyes take in how far his cock will be inside your needy cunt. 

“Oh god, Leon, s’too big,” you mewl, ears lying flat against your skull. 

With a warm chuckle, he pulls his cock back to slide across your pudgy bud, grinding the head against your sensitive clit until you’re whining and dripping slick onto the carpet. His cock presses into your pussy making you moan reedily, voice breaking into a gasp. 

He chuffs and gently bites the side of your neck, rocking his cock another inch into your clenching hole. 

“Pussy’s just small, honey,” he coos softly, sandpaper tongue licking up to the shell of your ear, “gotta stretch her out so you can take my knot.”

Your walls clench down on his dick making his hips stutter. His eyes darken and he pulls completely out. 

“How about we make it easier for this soft little cunt?”

Without letting you answer he flips you over into your hands and knees, one palm pressing down in the middle of your back and the other gripping your hip to raise your ass up. He slides in much easier in this position, bottoming out with a loud groan as you claw at the floor. 

Mewling, you press your ass backwards, working more of Leon’s thick cock into your dripping pussy. 

“Wan’ it,” you slur, nails digging into the plush carpet, “want your knot, Leon.”

He growls and buries his cock to the hilt inside your cunt making you cry out from the sudden stretch. Your walls clamp and pulse around his fat dick while you catch your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver all over, “such a good pup for me.”

“Leon,” you whimper, pussy walls fluttering around his thick length as he slowly ruts into you.

He groans and pulls halfway out before bullying his dick back into your sopping wet hole. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he bites your shoulder, canines digging into your skin, “perfect pussy, made for me aren’t you, honey?”

 “Uh huh,” you gasp out your agreement, voice not wanting to work as Leon pounds your cunt hard enough you’re getting rug burn on your knees. 

He grips the base of your tail and pulls, making you scream— pussy fluttering and pulsing around his dick as your orgasm takes you both by surprise. 

“Good girl,” he coos, dropping your tail to grip the fat of your ass with both hands, “so good, gripping me so tight with that little pussy, working for that knot like a good pup.”

Shuddering, your body trembles as Leon keeps thrusting his fat cock right against your g-spot as the tip kisses your cervix. Drool spills from your mouth as you heave in deep breaths. 

“Want you to cum one more time, pretty girl,” he lightly spanks your ass making you whine, “one more and I’ll knot this pretty pussy til she’s nice and full. Don’t you want that? For your hot cunt to be bred til you’re stuffed to the brim?”

“Please, please, Leon,” you mumble, ass bouncing back against his thrusts, “want your knot, please, want it so bad.”

One of his hands dip below your abdomen to circle the swollen bundle of nerves coated in your slick. Your pussy clamps down on his dick as he softly teases your clit. 

“Oh that’s it, right there,” he kisses your neck, tongue lapping against your sweaty skin, “can feel you getting tighter. Cum for me, let me feel it.”

As Leon keeps hammering into your pussy, his fingers circle and tease across your pudgy bud until one last thrust has your orgasm whiting out your vision. Your ears ring so loud you don’t even hear as Leon curses against your neck while he snaps his hips against your ass before burying his cock deep in your spasming pussy. 

You wail when his knot locks you together, stretching your cunt even further as you feel his hot thick cum spill inside. 

“So good for me,” Leon groans, hands smoothing over your sides and back, “perfect, so fucking perfect.”

You sigh gustily, body going limp as Leon continues to fill your pussy with load after load from his thick cock. He shifts until you’re both able to lay on your sides comfortably, hands petting your body gently. 

“Feels nice,” you mumble, relaxing even further against him.

“Good,” he kisses the back of your head, “once I can pull out, wanna run you a bath. Gonna take care of you.”

Preening, you smile although he can’t see it, “That sounds so good.”

It’s quiet and relaxing as you bask in Leon’s soft touches and praise. As soon as he slips out of your sore cunt, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you into the bathroom. Setting you down on the edge of the tub, Leon works the taps and fills it with comfortably warm water.

Once he settles down in the basin, he maneuvers you to sit with your back to his chest. His warm hands rub at your arms and shoulders. 

“Let me know if you’re sore anywhere,” he kisses your temple. 

His softness is making your clit throb, loving how Leon treats you. 

After he works your arms and shoulders, he shifts down to your thighs. You moan low in your throat. 

“What if I’m sore here?” You bite your lip and grab one of his hands to shift it to your clit. 

He chuckles causing goosebumps down your body. 

“Oh? Need this fat pussy rubbed?” he slips his fingers down your slit before circling back up to your clit, “is she really sore, honey? 

“So sore,” you mewl, slumping against his chest as he teases across your swollen clit.

It doesn’t take long for his rough fingers to work another orgasm from you, pussy clenching around nothing as your clit throbs underneath his fingertips. 

“So fucking good,” he turns your head to kiss you messily, tongue licking into your mouth as spit drips down your chin.

Leon finishes washing you both off before helping you stand, wrapping a fuzzy towel around you before emptying the bath. Feeling extra sleepy, you don’t put up a fuss as Leon guides you into his room. Helping you slip under his covers, you sigh as Leon’s scent surrounds you. 

“Goodnight,” he kisses the side of your mouth making you turn and pout your lips for a kiss. 

Chuckling, he kisses you gently, running his thumb across one of your ears. 

“Goodnight, Leon,” you smile sleepily, snuggling into his chest. 

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

you never knew how much i really liked you - s. crosby

summary: 'In truth, it wasn’t nothing – it was never nothing with Sid. It was always something, and usually it hurt. The timings; what wasn’t said; the history. There was more to the two of you than what even Nate and Taylor knew of – not even when they seemed to stop breathing when you admitted what it could be.'

warnings: sid x f!reader (ex-hockey player), swearing, miscommunication trope, mentions of the consumption of alcohol, bonus point if you spot the unintentional olivia rodrigo lyric, mentions of food aversion (in relation to illness & hints at anxiety), passing mentions of someone potentially having alcohol poisoning, confrontation

< a/n: the ending is abrupt but i can't be arsed changing it! sorry! ALSO: IT'S PENS PRE-SEASON DAY!! >

word count: 13k

 There was a chair, this time. They’d never been a chair there before, ever. You’d been to this house and you’d sat on the end of the deck with your feet hanging over the edge countless times in the last decade or so, but there had never been a chair there before, at least not one that didn’t have to be dragged from inside and unfolded. 

It didn’t particularly strike you as odd or anything, but it did stop you in your tracks at the top of the deck, and you did try to see if you could see him through the windows of his house, but it was early so the sun only reflected against the glass panes, completely blocking your view. But you’d seen his car in the driveway, and you knew he’d be up – probably eating his breakfast or in the gym already.

You gripped your book a little tighter, making your way towards the end of the pontoon and assessing the chair with your own eyes. You almost laughed at the blanket draped across the back of it, but it didn’t stop you from picking it up and covering yourself with it after you got settled.

It was a lovely morning, it always was here, and it was partly why you loved arriving earlier: there was something about the crispness of the sun in the morning and the rawness of the view. It wasn’t one you could ever imagine getting tired of. The water was gorgeous, the trees were gorgeous, the sky was gorgeous, the birds were gorgeous. As usual, it took you a while to work yourself up to actually pick up your book and tear your attention away from the view.

It was a muffled bark that finally did it, your fingers absent-mindedly playing with the pages of the book, and you turned to peer around the side of the chair, a golden labrador bounding down the pontoon, tongue lolling out and ears flapping as she did. You grinned, sitting forward in the chair and anticipating Sam to stop right in front of you, her tail wagging ferociously as you scratched behind her ears.

“Good morning to you, too.” You muttered, clenching your jaw and stroking her fur as she collapsed to lay at your feet, her belly exposed for you to scratch, “Where’s Sid?” At the mention of his name, Sam’s ears perked up and she barked, her head turning to something behind you, “Is he walking down now?” You didn’t turn around, instead focusing your attention entirely on the pup in front of you – until the pair of footsteps echoing against the wood became too noticeable to ignore.

The sun was still blinding from reflecting off the patio doors, but the silhouette of Sid was nearly impossible to ignore, more so when he was effortlessly carrying another chair in one arm and a travel flask with two cups balanced on the lid in the other.

You shielded your eyes with your hand, about to get up to help him in some way, but he shook his head adamantly, “I got it. Here.” He passed you the mug with the cups, and you sat silently, watching him unfold the chair (it looked a lot less comfortable than the one he’d set out for you, though you didn’t comment on it) and settled himself in.

“Morning.” You greeted, passing him one cup before unscrewing the lid and sniffing.

“Morning.” He replied, grinning, “It’s decaf, by the way.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, “Thank you.”

“‘Course.”

“Are you sure you wanna put this in your body this early?” You asked, taking his cup from him and pouring out the steaming coffee. It warmed your hands nicely through the plastic, and you snuck a look at him out of the corner of your eye. He was sitting comfortably, a little lower than you because of the height of his chair, and he was watching you carefully, completely unashamed at having been caught in the act. His grin did seem to melt into one more bashful, and he looked out across the water, blinking in the light.

“I feel like I’m gonna need it to get through today.” He answered, gently taking his cup from your hand, fingertips brushing delicately against yours.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be pretty hectic.” You agreed, placing the flask on the floor, giving Sam a quick pat before sipping on your own coffee, your book tucked under your chair. You had a feeling you weren’t going to get much reading done now anyway, not when Sid had decided to join you.

You both leaned back in your chairs, the blanket tucked around your waist, and nothing was said for around ten minutes. Nothing needed to be said. Even Sam seemed to get that message; she was curled up at both your feet, her head turned in the direction of the water. Every so often she’d perk up, maybe when a bird flew overhead or when she heard something in the woodland, but she’d always end up placing her head back down on the wooden beams, bathing in the sun.

“This is always my favourite week of the entire year.” You admitted a little shyly. It wasn’t something you were afraid of saying out loud, per se, but you’d known Sid for years. He was the one that started the week-long camp for the kids in Cole Harbour, and for some reason admitting that it was his creation that you always looked forward to the most was a little daunting.

He didn’t seem to think so, but he couldn’t quite keep the shock off his face when he registered what it was you’d said.

“It is?” 

You nodded, “Is that sad? I feel like it is.”

He shook his head, “Nah, it’s not sad at all.”

If it had been anyone else that had admitted that, Sid might have teased a little – or if you’d said something else altogether, but almost as soon as you’d thrown those words out there he felt a twinge of empathy for you. To have played hockey with each other most of your youth…you’d obviously stopped playing against and with boys at a certain age because of the regulations, but you’d managed to secure a spot on a local girl’s team and eventually you’d gone on to play at college. And by the time graduation came around, you had your degree, sure, but there was no women’s hockey league to play for, not one you could live comfortably off anyway.

Sid had often tried to put himself in your shoes…it killed him every time, like getting stabbed in the chest. Only, when you said that, the knife twisted and was pulled out, and he swore his heart broke a little. To have the skill and the talent to play professionally, but no league to play in was his worst nightmare.

To not have hockey, to him, was to not live and breathe. If he didn’t have hockey, he couldn’t even imagine what he’d be doing right now.

You just hummed, clearly not believing him, and he inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to give you a reassuring touch. He was about to say something, but you turned to look at him sharply, an odd expression on your face.

“What?” He found himself asking, taking a self-conscious sip of the coffee to hide his face.

Your eyes narrowed, and a small smile curled at your lips, “Aren’t you gonna make a comment about ‘wow, you must really miss me, huh?’, or–”

“I don’t sound like that.” He shook his head, managing a tight smile. You were trying to cover a wound that had scarred over the years by switching the subject, but Sid could only muster a forced laugh and a curious glance in your direction, “Did you miss me, though?”

There was a brief moment where he thought you’d play his question off and pretend you hadn’t heard him, and in that brief moment there were a few things that happened to him: his heart seemed to pound and drop to his feet at the same time; he realised that if you didn’t miss him he wasn’t quite sure what else to do, and regret. The regret was anticipatory, though, of you ignoring him.

And it also seemed to dissolve completely when you answered: “Yeah. Not as much as I used to, though.”

Sid swallowed, picking at his navy joggers. Instead of regret, it was guilt that ate away at him – for something he couldn’t even control.

“What do you mean?” His mouth felt dry, and his grip on the cup tightened.

You turned to look at him, shrugging hopelessly, “That first year without you was just a lot to adjust to, that’s all.”

“It was?”

Something on your face seemed to flicker; your brows twitched downwards and any trace of happiness that was previously written on your face was suddenly no longer visible. Your head tilted, and you stuttered, clearly not quite knowing what to say or where to start.

“I…” You trailed off, and Sid felt the beginnings of dread begin to creep up his stomach and settle there like a pebble, “Yeah. You didn’t know that?”

He shook his head, jaw clenching. You looked inexplicably sad at his reply, and turned to fix your eyes on the water in front of you, a sip of scalding coffee seemingly hinting at wanting to end the conversation.

But Sid wasn’t quite done, not yet. His first year in the NHL: he remembered it pretty clearly, and he also remembered that neither of you were that good at keeping in touch with each other. You were on the other side of the country in California for college, and he was mainly in Pittsburgh, but nearly everywhere. Moving out of Nova Scotia was a big thing for both of you, but having lived next door to each other for your entire childhood and having played on the same team as little kids? That first year was difficult.

“Did something happen?” He asked, voice a little frailer than he’d liked to have conveyed – so much so that even Sam’s ears seemed to prick at the slight twinge in pitch.

You shook your head, sighing deeply, “I just kind of had the sense that I was never gonna see you again those first few months, that’s all. I psyched myself out…it’s fine now, though.”

***

“Is Sid okay?” Taylor sidled up to you on the edge of the group of kids listening intently to the man in question, skates scratching to a stop as she murmured the question in your ear.

You felt your brows pinch, your gloved hands resting on the top of your stick hiding your mouth as you turned to her, “As far as I’m aware.”

He looked okay from where you were standing: the very picture of effortless leadership as he explained the next game to the group of kids all staring up at him intently, some with dropped jaws and some with frowns of concentration etched on their features. They were all wearing monochrome jerseys and the overhead lights were reflecting off their helmets. Not a single one wasn’t watching Sid talk.

His voice wasn’t wavering, and he was giving the kids his entire attention – devoted as usual to his sport…so?

“Why?” You raised a brow, looking at Taylor out of the corner of your eye.

Her mouth was pulled down at the corners, and she shrugged offhandedly, “I dunno, he just seems a bit off today.”

Yeah, okay. You turned your attention back to him, trying to commit every little motion of his hand to memory, intently keeping an eye out for any trembling or straying of his attention. It must have been another fifteen seconds before you sighed, turning back to Taylor, who was regarding you with an air of amusement, a sly smile hiding on her face.

“What?” You asked, feeling as though she was looking right through you.

“Nothing.” Then, after a pause, “Did he drive you over here?” 

You hummed, nodding, but your mind was stuck replaying and analysing what she’d previously said, “What did you mean by ‘off’?”

“What’s up with Sid?” 

Your heart thundered in shock, not having anticipated Nate to shuffle over to your other shoulder. His voice in your ear was jarring, but still as soft as yours and Taylor’s had been, not wanting to disrupt the talk at the front of the group.

“What do you mean?”

“Three guesses.” 

You and Taylor spoke up at the same time, and when you turned to look at her she was glaring at you rather pointedly, and Nate whistled lowly in your ear, a deep laugh shaking his ribs.

“No way, what did you say to him?” Nate asked, half-giggling, and you sighed, getting slightly infuriated by the lack of real answers and use of cryptic mutters that had you no closer to figuring out exactly just what they were on about.

A part of you was losing your cool a bit because you liked to think you knew Sid pretty well; in fact, you did know him pretty well. It was why you couldn’t possibly fathom another two minutes in the presence of these two without getting an answer, because he’d been like this since…

Oh.

Nate’s laughter immediately halted, and Taylor leaned forward, the two of them sharing a cautious look at the way you seemed to wince.

“What?” They chorused, the combination of their voices causing a few heads to turn in your direction, and you ducked your head, adjusting your skates as an excuse not to draw even more attention to yourself.

After a nudge in the elbow, you lifted your head up. 

There was no way that was what was causing him to be more distracted than usual. It wasn’t even a big deal or anything, and it certainly wasn’t a secret – you thought he knew, that wasn’t your fault. And it wasn’t like he’d actually done anything all those years ago, either. That first year was almost radio silence on both ends, and you were honestly glad that wasn’t the case now.

But, still? No way.

“It’s not much, I don’t even think it could be what I’m thinking anyway.” You shook your head, watching him.

“What’re you thinking?” Taylor whispered, the lip of her cap catching you in the cheek with how close she’d shuffled.

You recoiled slightly, “It’s genuinely nothing. He just apparently didn’t know that I missed him the first year.” Your voice trailed off weakly, “Nothing.”

In truth, it wasn’t nothing – it was never nothing with Sid. It was always something, and usually it hurt. The timings; what wasn’t said; the history. There was more to the two of you than what even Nate and Taylor knew of – not even when they seemed to stop breathing when you admitted what it could be.

There were weeks and months and years where you didn’t talk much, mostly due to the distance and the clashing of schedules, but there was a lull that you’d both managed to keep from everyone else, and if you were being honest, now that you were thinking about it…that and with your earlier admission on top of it…

Maybe it was your fault.

“What did he say?” Taylor said, shaking you out of your own head. You blinked, apparently still looking at Sid.

There was something grave and more serious in her features that hadn’t been there earlier, and when you shot a look at Nate, he was wearing an almost identical expression: his brows were furrowed together and his mouth was pulled in a tight line, altogether looking uncharacteristically morbid.

You felt your pulse quicken in foreboding, “He asked if anything happened and then we got in the car.”

“Nothing else?” 

You inhaled, blinking twice, “Should there have been?”

***

The car ride back to your house was silent. Eerily so. Your body was exhausted and your brain was still playing the soundtrack of pucks smacking against posts, sticks and boards in your head, along with the joyous yells of the kids. That was why you loved it so much – not just the ice time and the familiarity of having a stick in your hands and a puck at your feet – but for the look on their faces when they looked up from the ice to see a grinning Sidney Crosby or Nathan MacKinnon singing them praises.

It made you wonder how many of them would eventually go on to play college hockey or even make it to the professional leagues.

You stifled a grin, your hand over your mouth as you turned to look out of the passenger window.

The only thing that broke through to you was the motion of the driver when his head turned to watch you briefly before returning back to the road. That simple movement had the smile melting off your face. 

You’d never been particularly nervous around Sid – and on the few occasions you had been, all it had taken was a fifteen minute conversation with him and it all dissipated – but this time was different. Not only was what Taylor had told you swirling around your mind, but the tension in the car was palpable, at least in your opinion.

Sid hadn’t said much, just kept his jaw clenched and his eyes focused on the road. Since this morning, it was probably the only glaringly obvious symptom that something wasn’t quite right, or something was playing on his mind.

It didn’t take much for you to box your own miseries and turn to him. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye first: the strong jaw, the full lips, the prominent nose, the dark eyes and darker hair. He really was quite breathtaking. The hands on the steering wheel, the rippling forearms each time he had to turn the wheel. It wasn’t something you were immune to at all: in fact, since the age of about fourteen you’d been hyper aware of the fact that Sid was stunning – and it wasn’t just in his looks, either. His work ethic, concentration, determination, kindness, generosity. He was the insurmountable sum of all of those qualities, and you were a damn fool if you didn’t recognise the fact that you’d been a tiny bit in love with him all your life.

And because of that, you knew him well. Not as well as some people might initially assume, but well enough.

“You okay?” You asked, earning nothing but a nod and a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, why?”

You shrugged, “You’re just quiet.”

“I’m tired, that’s all.”

You nodded, looking to your lap. He’d be tired the entire week, that was always how this went. But he’d get by and he’d manage and he’d recover like he wasn’t tired: he still kept smiling, still showed enthusiasm, and maybe he’d gotten used to it over the years, because you could have sworn each time he organised this he was less and less tired.

“You sleeping okay?” 

He nodded, running a hand from his wrist to scratch under his sleeve, and you followed the motion unconsciously with your eyes, “More than. You?”

You shrugged, pulling an unsure face, “The usual.”

He snuck another glance at you out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the road ahead, “What about you, are you okay?” He echoed your own question back to you, and maybe if it wasn’t for the genuine thin film of concern to his voice, you’d have brushed it off with an answer and a huff of laughter. Instead, though, you parrotted his words back to him, nailing the equal part-suspicion and amusement.

“Yeah, why?” 

“You’re hilarious.” He shot back drily, shaking his head.

“Hey, can you drop me off at my parents’ house please, I need to collect something. I’ll literally be five minutes.”

It was Taylor’s voice in your head that kept bashing about, repeating words and flashing images – Nate was thrown in there too from that earlier conversation you’d all had when Sid was oblivious, and it didn’t let up, not even when you pushed the key into your childhood home and shut the door behind you.

The house was pretty quiet, the sound of the door shutting echoing down the hallway. The TV was flashing in the living room, and you could hear voices, from both the news anchors and your parents talking over it. Only then did Taylor’s words quieten. 

“Who is it?” A voice yelled out just as you’d scraped your shoes off your feet, and the smile that bloomed on your face was almost instantaneous.

“Your favourite child!”

There was a brief pause, and you stopped in the hallway, waiting until he replied.

“That doesn’t sound like Sid.”

You pulled a face, snatching a pair of socks from the staircase before entering the living room, pelting the ball at your Dad’s head, the soft cotton smacking him straight in the nose. He was sitting in his PJs: plaid bottoms and a crumpled top, with slippers and no socks on his feet. When the socks collided with his face, that smirk was still there, even as he lobbed them back at you with surprising force to say he didn’t have a lot of arm room.

“Nice to see you, too.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at your Mom, who’d since gotten up off the sofa to peer through the blinds.

“What’re you doing?” Your Dad asked, turning his attention to his wife, and before she’d even answered you knew what she was going to say.

“Sid’s outside in the car.” You said, shrugging when they both turned to you with equal appal written all over their faces.

“Get him in here.” Your Mom grinned, knocking on the window and motioning for the man himself to come inside.

You just rolled your eyes, “I’m just gonna go get something from upstairs.” Your words fell on deaf ears, however, because almost as soon as you’d taken initiative and left the room, the front door was shutting and Sid was standing, smiling, at the door, still decked out in camp kit and looking every bit as nervous as the first time he’d ever met your family. And then he seemed to spot you walking towards him, your parents in front of you, and he let out that telltale breath, his shoulders and face relaxing fractionally.

He’d explained it to you before, about how he still feels awkward meeting people’s parents, no matter how long he’s known them, and you never seem to remember that until you see it with your own eyes: I don’t know, it’s weird, but if I see, say you, someone I know, it kinda gets me out of my head a bit. I don’t know why.

“Come in, come in – oh, she’s just picking something up–”

You immediately turned on the stairs, one hand still clutching the bannister tightly, to look upon a pair of eyes that practically gleamed ‘don’t leave me here’. The rest of his face was pretty neutral, a polite smile as your parents chatted his ears off, the both of them making their way back into the house, and there was a split second where they weren’t looking at either of you.

For some reason, instead of laughing at his misfortune, you inhaled quickly, leaning over the bannister, “Wait, I need Sid’s help with something.” 

Everyone seemed to freeze. Even despite the mental pleading he’d been doing, Sid couldn’t help it when his lips parted in shock, kind of like he couldn’t help it when his brows knitted together. Your mom stopped talking about how nice it was to see Sid again, and looked up at you too. It looked as though she was about to say something, but with the guilty, rather hurried smile on your face she clamped her mouth shut, nodding. Your dad hadn’t stopped walking, but even from the other room the rather loud ‘mutter’ of, “Is that what we’re calling it, now?” 

Needless to say, both yours and Sid’s cheeks were still a little bit pink by the time you’d walked into your old bedroom.

“What’re you looking for?” He asked, desperate to get his mind out of that gutter, and flopped on your still-made bed, picking up the penguin teddy he’d brought home after his draft. He’d bought it in one of the stores in the airport in Toronto on his way back home, and you’d never had the heart to even move it out of this house: it belonged here.

“Do you remember that video camera I used to have?” You pulled open the first contender: the bedside table drawer. There were loose cables, hair ties, various joint support bands…but no sign of the camera.

“Yeah.” Came the reply from near your head, and you blinked, not expecting him to be so close. He’d rolled onto his front, his face smushed into your pillow, and he made no attempt to pretend as though he hadn’t been watching you rifle through your drawers – at least not if that cheeky grin didn’t automatically make its way onto his face.

You pushed his forehead back, stopping your mild attack when he screamed before dissolving into giggles severely reminiscent of when he was younger. It was so incredibly infectious, so incredibly nostalgic that all you could do was crouch, an unconscious open-mouthed smile on your face.

“Why are you laughing?” You slammed the drawer shut, heaving yourself off the floor and over to your old desk. There were still some notebooks scattered across the surface, pens in the stand. The cupboard and shelves were almost full, and it was only as you started to pull everything out, looking inside baskets and boxes that Sid could be bothered to speak again.

“Because I’m pretty sure we had this exact conversation when we were twenty.”

“We did?”

“Yeah.” He punctuated it with a sigh, a despondent one, and you looked at him over your shoulder. He was sitting up now, his hands clamped around his ankles, a thoughtful look on his face.

The ‘twenty’ year with Sid had been very weird, and you never really figured out why. The nineteenth was almost non-existent, the twenty-first good, but it was tinged by what happened at the end of his season (not the winning the Stanley Cup for the first time, but the other thing), which made your twenty-second awkward, and the twenty-third was almost like a reset. You never really realised how much you’d both changed until you got to relearn each other as adults. 

He was eyeing the corner of your room you tried to avoid looking at. 

“So why are you looking for the camera?” He asked, voice sounding far-away. He was still staring at the trophy corner, and you turned your attention back to rifling through old relics in the hunt, gladly looking anywhere but that shrine.

“If I told you Taylor would murder me in my sleep.”

He groaned, “I told her not to do anything for my birthday.” 

“It’s nothing big, I think she just wants photos from when we were younger.”

“We?”

You shrugged, missing the slight catch in his voice, “Well, you, but there’s loads of photos of you on my camera, I think she just wants a look. I always forget how young she was when we left.” You sighed, slamming the cupboard door on your desk shut, before standing in the middle of your room, hands on your hips, “I don’t know where else I could have put it.”

He didn’t say anything, but the creaky springs of your mattress groaned under his hands as he pushed himself up off your bed, before walking straight passed you and into the forbidden corner.

There was a clinking sound of metal, and you whirled on your heel, watching him carefully rifle through the trophies, photo frames, certificates and medals all hung and displayed neatly, before spinning around on his heel, holding the camera in his hand with a knowing look on his face.

***

Saying you were nervous was a bit of an understatement considering what it was you were about to do. The camera’s SD card was safely tucked into your laptop, but you’d been staring at the folder on the homescreen for ten minutes, and you were sure you hadn’t felt this nervous since your driving test. Your hands were clammy, your heart was racing and your brain was loud.

You’d lied to Sid earlier – well, partially. Taylor had wanted to look at some photos, and you had every intention on bringing the camera in to the rink tomorrow so you could giggle at the contents in your breaks, but there was something else she’d also said, something that got your brain working, and you hadn’t been able to think about anything else since. 

You inhaled shakily, before double-clicking the yellow folder, the seconds where the mouse loaded into a swirl of blue almost knocking your soul out of your body from the sheer anxiety of it all. You hoped you were wrong, but a small part of you hoped Taylor had been right. If she had, it’d make so much sense as to what happened when you were eighteen-nineteen, but if she was right? You weren’t entirely sure what you were going to do.

The screen flooded with images…school corridors, ice rinks, soccer fields, bedrooms, cars, bars, Rimouski, until–

Fuck.

You froze, eyes fixated on the one photo that had caught your eye. It was someone’s back garden, you couldn’t remember who exactly, but you remembered being there. It was dark, string lights and strobe lights hung across the verandah and neon streaks flickered from between plants. 

You’d drunk so much that night but you could still remember handing your camera off to some of your classmates – it must have been graduation – and everyone had been drinking, that much you could tell from the quality of the photos, and this one in particular wasn’t any different. It was a blurred photo of someone celebrating a beer pong game, their arms raised over their head and their mouth open in some kind of celebratory roar, but it wasn’t that that caught your attention.

It was the shadowy figures of two teenagers sitting on the stools towards one side of the garden, a makeshift table pressed against the wall. They were sitting close together, knees slotted between each other, and faces mere inches apart. Both were wearing grins, even despite being mid-kiss.

Shadowy, yet so unmistakably you and Sid.

***

“You okay?”

You blinked, the staff room coming back to you. The fluorescent lights glared along the surface of the table you’d picked, your lunch tray sitting untouched in front of you, and there was a general buzz about the place. It was lunchtime, and you’d opted out of kid-duty – partly because you were on the brink of giving yourself a headache and mostly just because you couldn’t really focus on much without immediately thinking about Sid – which meant sitting at a table in a quiet room by yourself just for a breather.

Only, a rather determined, hazel-eyed man seemed to have other ideas if the tray plopped down opposite you was anything to go by. He collapsed against the chair with a sigh, hands picking up his knife and fork with practised ease, and he hadn’t even given you a chance to answer his question before he was pausing, eyeing you with mild concern. His eyebrows knitted together and he ducked his head to try to get a closer read on you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing, almost nervous.

This thing had happened all those years ago and he’d never brought it up. Yet, that still didn’t explain why he’d then…he was confusing, in the present tense. 

His mouth turned downwards for a brief moment and he shook his head in disbelief, “You disappeared ten minutes ago and you haven’t touched your food.”

You just shrugged, managing a tight smile, “Not very hungry.”

It wasn’t a lie, per se, but it was the honest truth when your stomach rolled just as he put a forkful of food in his own mouth. It revolted you to such an extent you pushed your own tray further away and turned to sit sideways on your chair, all just so you wouldn’t have to look at him eat.

He froze, his fork stilling, “Are you…I can take the food away if you want?” 

You shook your head, closing your eyes, “No, it’s fine.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and your hand found its way into the pocket of your tracksuit bottoms, fingers finding the smooth plastic of the USB stick you’d copied the photos for Taylor on. You had a plan, see. You wanted to kind of broach the topic of the graduation party with Sid, mainly just to test him for a reaction without outrightly admitting anything, and you figured – despite your current situation – that now was…appropriate.

“Do you know where Taylor is?” You asked, keeping your eyes screwed shut.

“No, why?” His answer came all too quickly, a hint of nosiness creeping into his tone. You could imagine the slight raise of one eyebrow and the thinly veiled look of ‘why the heck are you wanting my sister?’ expression on his face. You’d seen it many times before, and it never ceased to amuse.

“I have that USB of photos to give her and I haven’t seen her all morning, I was just wondering if you knew where she was?”

He would, of course. If one thing was ever going to be guaranteed about Sidney Crosby, it was the protective ‘eye’ he kept on Taylor.

“She’s in the canteen. Did you find any good’ens on there?”

“Yeah, actually.” You peeled your eyes open, ensuring to keep them fixated on his face instead of the sickly pile of food on his plate, “Do you remember that graduation party?”

He chewed thoughtfully, his jaw slowing as he nodded his head cautiously, “Yeah.” He said, dragging the word out, and there was a prick of pink on his cheeks, as though he’d suddenly come under a severe amount of stress.

He was getting a little uncomfortable.

“There’s a photo of…Jack, I think it is? Is that right?” He nodded, “He clearly won a game of beer pong or something because there’s a couple of blurry photos of him celebrating and if you look really closely you can see us in the background. It must have been towards the end of the night or something because I looked like I was falling everywhere.”

He nodded, humming interestedly, “What were we doing?”

You felt your mouth part, almost shocked at the sudden ease rolling off his shoulders. It was as though he’d prepared himself to deny, deny, deny this for his entire life, and purely because you were feeling like shit and like a shit, you shrugged, “Couldn’t really…make it out, I don’t know. I can’t remember what happened that night anyway, I drank way too much.”

He nodded once more, shrugging, “Yeah, I remember having to hold your hair back and almost dialling for an ambulance because I was pretty sure you had alcohol poisoning.”

You nodded, staging a faux look of confusion, “Did anything happen that night? You were really weird for a couple of days after.”

There was a pause – a brief one, maybe a quarter of a second, and he looked straight at you, jaw frozen mid-chew and for a moment you thought he’d picked up on something and you were found out. Then he blinked, and with the way he was acting: sitting up straighter, almost hesitating saying something, you thought maybe he was about to tell the truth.

“No.” He pulled a face, “Nothing happened that I can remember.”

***

It turned out the aversion to food was part of a larger issue, a result most likely of possibly contracting a bug from one of the kids – or maybe you were just horrendously unlucky, because you spent the rest of the night in the bathroom, and were so unwell the next morning you had to cancel helping out at Sid’s camp.

He’d sent a string of texts and a few unanswered phone calls, but you didn’t really have the energy to answer them – not when you were feeling so weird around him. You’d thought, prior to finding out about the photos and what had actually happened (bless Taylor’s oblivious nosiness when Nate had asked about you guys before – Sid had actually admitted to the whole graduation thing to the blonde, and that was Taylor’s knowledge of the entire thing), that you and Sid had maintained a pretty honest friendship, but apparently not? You wouldn’t have been so put off by the whole thing if he hadn’t pulled that same stunt later down the line, either.

There was definitely a pattern, and he definitely had a pattern and it seemed to just be deny, deny, deny at all cost.

And you weren’t entirely sure when this had happened, but you’d come to the realisation that you were sick of pretending like the two of you hadn’t been dancing that line for years. What you’d thought was seven years of denial was actually ten. This thing had been going on since you were kids, and each time something had happened you’d get weird around each other and when you tried to talk about it he’d make some excuse.

If it wasn’t a big deal why did it always have such a big impact on the two of you?

That entire thought process was what you’d been unable to escape from nearly all day. No amount of episodes of TV shows or films could distract your brain from that little spiel, it was like having a grating voice go on and on in your ear and you weren’t quite sure how to proceed, what to do to distract yourself.

Your kettle clicked off, and you sniffed, reaching out to grab the handle, the steam from the boiling water offering some kind of relief from the pressure in your sinuses.

You really were ill, but not nearly as ill as you’d made out to be to Sid. In truth you just needed a break, mostly from him, which felt horrendous to admit considering your ‘break’ from that man consisted of an entire NHL season, and your days spent in each other’s company were severely limited anyway.

But there was something in you that knew if you saw his face you wouldn’t be able to hold back saying or doing something.

Taylor knew what was really going on, and if you knew Taylor like you thought you did that probably meant Nate knew, but you know Nate well enough now to guess he wouldn’t go blabbing to Sid about something that’s not his business. The blonde likes his gossip, but he knows when to stay out of certain situations.

You liked Nate.

You inhaled, the hot water turning a bright-yellow from the teabag you’d placed in the mug (a lemon and ginger one you’d managed to snag from a local store a few days ago), and it was just as you’d threaded your fingers through the mug handle that there was a knock at your door.

You froze, brain a little slow to understand you should be moving to answer it, when a voice could be heard through the frosted glass panes.

The mug seemed to slam against the countertop of its own going, not loud enough for the intruder to hear it but loud enough to satisfy your irritation at who it was.

Think of the devil and he shall indeed appear.

He quieted down for a few seconds and you ducked from where you were standing, knowing if he made his way around to the back of the house where your kitchen window was he wouldn’t be able to see you crouched behind the counter.

And then your phone started ringing. It didn’t exactly take a genius to know who it was and the eye roll came almost automatically.

He could be so dramatic sometimes.

It must have taken barely ten seconds for him to stop ringing, and you held your breath, desperately trying to figure out if he’d moved away and given up; your knees and hips were seizing, you could feel them begin to lock from not having moved nearly all day, and you winced, hand reaching up to grip the countertop.

If you were lucky he wouldn’t be looking—

“I can see your hand and your tea.” His muffled voice deadpanned and you sighed defeated, pulling yourself up.

He was standing in your backyard, his phone in his hand and a rather disappointed look on his face as he stared straight at you through the window. 

You had to give him credit where it was due: the man could certainly kick up a fuss and coax you out of hiding.

Granted, you weren’t allocated a set amount of time to even begin to make it look like you were really holed up in bed. If you had, the TV downstairs would be off, as would the lights, and there wouldn’t be an easily visible makeshift blanket bed on the couch. All he’d really had to do was walk along your drive to peer through the front window, and then walk straight down the side of your house to the back gate.

You’d kept it unlocked for the last couple of days because you hadn’t been in much to accept parcels, and you’d never gotten round to locking it again.

Of course you’d come to regret that immediately.

The back door lock clicked open as you twisted the key, and you didn’t spare him a glance, instead making a beeline for the half-made tea. For one, you knew watching him walk through the door with his current sulk on was only going to encourage him to start talking about it, and you absolutely weren’t about to give him that satisfaction. You also really wanted that tea, it was probably the only thing standing between you getting better for the camp and the weird sickness you’d managed to contract.

Your immune system was shit.

He cleared his throat, and you lifted your eyes lazily in his direction, taking out the tea bag and leaving it to drain, “Hi.”

Your voice was scratchy and rough, and the reaction it elicited from the man in front of you: brows raised, mouth dropping open, sprung a rather odd thought to the forefront of your mind: “Did you not believe me when I said I was sick?” You managed, laughing awkwardly and inhaling the vapour from your mug, watching him closely.

He shrugged, pulling off his jacket and hanging it up on the hooks. There was a spare hook, one not used for your own stuff: a plethora of raincoats, boots, kitchen aprons…and Sid’s jacket. 

“I did believe you. Kind of.” He admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning back against the kitchen counter, “I thought you were maybe avoiding me, though.”

You blinked, keeping your face neutral, actively trying not to scoff at him or narrow your eyes in his direction, “I am avoiding you; I’m not about to give whatever this is to you, am I?” You asked softly, cradling the mug of tea under your chin, feeling the irritation begin to swirl under your skin already.

You shifted uncomfortably, and Sid watched your eyes dart to a chair pressed up against the wall with longing. He knew there was something up, something not linked to being sick – he’d felt it in the car earlier and you were practically drenched in tension yesterday. It was difficult to ignore, and judging from the way you’d been seeking out Taylor recently he had a feeling it might have been something to do with him.

What, though, he had no idea.

“Well,” he inhaled, mouth flattening into a straight line. His chest seemed to ache suddenly when you nodded, an almost sarcastic grin on your lips, purposefully avoiding looking in his direction, and he’d known you long enough by now to know when you wanted him out of the house. Now it was no different, “Thank you, I appreciate the thought.”

An uncomfortable silence.

He wanted to scream.

“I best be going.” He hurried out, the words almost getting tangled in his mouth, and before he could cause himself more harm by looking at you and the action not being reciprocated, he turned his back and reached automatically for the coat he’d literally just hung up.

Sid had never been a cryer – he didn’t class himself as an emotional guy, which was why he was so shocked at the sudden burning of his eyes and the tightness in his throat. Fuck, he couldn’t cry here. One, because it’s embarrassing, and two: he had no clue why he was upset to this extent.

He’d managed to put his arms through his sleeves, just about to start zipping it up after a quick glance at the sky outside when you suddenly spoke, voice somehow even rougher than before.

“What reason would I be avoiding you for?”

Sid froze, swallowing nervously. It didn’t take a genius, even in that exact moment, to dissect the words you’d chosen to come to the conclusion that you’d picked them carefully. Not ‘what made you think I was avoiding you?’ which would certainly have been easier for him to answer, but he had a feeling you knew that. 

It was pretty obvious from the avoidance at lunch yesterday and the weird behaviour in the car the day before that, and then the cold shoulder and lack of interest in conversation now, that something was wrong. The signs were pretty subtle, though, he had to give you that.

He turned slowly, fingers detaching from his zipper. You were now sitting at the chair against the wall, knees tucked up to your chin, the hot mug of tea still clasped in your hands. Your eyes were a little red, probably due to exhaustion, and your hair had been twisted to sit across one shoulder, attention faced solely and rather intensely on him.

“Uhm–” he cleared his throat, blinking quickly to rid of the shining moisture in his eyes. He could feel his heart racing against his sternum, and he wondered briefly if you could hear it from across the room, “I don’t know.” He muttered sadly, eyes flicking to his shoes.

Camp had been great today, as it usually was, but he always found himself scanning the ice for your familiar face. 

You nodded, sighing with disappointment, and Sid felt himself deflate. His fingers tapped against his thigh seven, eight times before he inhaled, throwing the words out in the open before he lost the courage to do so.

“What’s going on with you?” He was about three seconds away from stamping his foot; he was so desperate to know the answer. It was childish and it was stupid, but it meant something to him when you shrugged, eyes suddenly misty.

He knew what you were going to say before you even said it, but he kept quiet anyway.

“Nothing.” You sounded as wrecked as he felt, a hint of sheer resignation in your voice. It was so uncharacteristic of you: to Sid it was as if you’d not only given up on whatever it was that was bothering you but you’d given up on hiding that something was ever wrong in the first place.

It was a victory, no matter how small.

“Come on.” He took a step closer, quite literally on the verge of begging, “Really? That’s all you’ve got?”

Silence.

“I know you. Better than anyone–”

The expression on your face changed immediately, and it felt as though you’d socked him in the chest. You didn’t believe him.

You didn’t believe him.

“I want to know you better than anyone else does.” He sighed, hands pressing against his temples before he dropped them back to his sides, not quite registering what his words meant. They’d flown out of his mouth before he even heard them in his brain, and even when he’d spoken them out loud it felt surreal. He wasn’t sure what was what with all the blood rushing in his ears.

It was because of that, trapped inside himself and his own mind that he failed to register the look on your face.

“Even still,” he continued, plopping himself down on the chair on the other side of the table from you, hands knitted together on the tabletop. He was leaning right across the table but you haven't moved an inch, “This…This, you being quiet, withdrawn, skipping a day of camp – I know you’re sick and everything, but that’s never stopped you before, not when it comes to hockey.” He paused, taking a breath, “What’s going on?”

You took a sip of tea, ignoring the scalding sensation against your tongue in favour of stalling. If you didn’t say anything now, then you probably never would. In fact, if he hadn’t said what he’d just said, clearly without thinking about the meaning of the damn words, you knew you wouldn’t even be considering telling him at all. But where there was doubt…

“Why did you never mention what happened at the graduation party?”

You heard him stop breathing. There was no reason to look at him to see it when you could practically hear the hitch in his chest and the lack of air. When you did look at him his cheeks had paled and his mouth was opening and shutting, shoulders stuck in a shrug as though you’d genuinely caught him off-guard.

You could ask him that question without it meaning anything – it could just as easily be read as ‘huh, funny that you never mentioned it before’ than as ‘you kind of denied me the truth of why we’re so weird because everything that’s ever happened between us since that night has been a direct result of whatever fucked-up miscommunication gig we’ve got going on here’.

“How did you find out?” He breathed, a deep crease between his brows. Now that he’d had time to recover, he looked more concerned – angry, even – than sheepish.

You shrugged, “Those photos I got for Taylor? We’re in the background of ‘em.”

He nodded slowly, mouth pressed in a straight line. This time it was him that couldn’t look at you, probably just to gather his thoughts. You could tell his mind was racing, eyes zipping back and forth against the grain of the table.

You could feel your heart banging in your chest, the speed of it almost stinging. The anticipation was debilitating, and it took everything in you not to spit out question after question, because he was taking ages to say something and it was driving you crazy. Your fingers were tapping against your mug, a sharp exhale blowing the vapour around.

It was maybe that that had him looking up, head tilted backwards slightly, a thumb teasing at his lip. It was probably the first time you’d seen him lost for words.

“You really don’t remember it?” He muttered, brown eyes wide and clear, shiny in the last rays of sun poking through the back windows.

You shook your head, “I told you I didn’t remember.”

“I thought you were…I thought that was your way of letting me down gently.” 

You huffed a disbelieving laugh, staring at him, half-expecting him to take those words back and say he was kidding, but he never did. He just continued to look at you, that damn crease between his brows, eyes glassy and playing with his bottom lip like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was still wearing his coat.

He never spoke.

“Why would I reject you?”

His hand fell from his mouth, landing with a soft thud on the table as he smiled, in such a self-deprecating fashion that you couldn’t help recoiling from him.

“Why wouldn’t you? I was moving to Pittsburgh, you were going to LA. We would have barely seen each other, and you deserved better than that. You still do. I mean, you know how much of a mess we were that year anyway, right?” He rambled, brows knitted together and mouth hung open. His elbows were resting on the edge of the table, hands palms-up towards the ceiling. He’d asked it like it was a rhetorical question but he was looking at you so intently you had to swallow your mouthful of tea and start talking.

Your mind had been running away with you, spitting counter-arguments for nearly everything he said, but it seemed to keep wanting to come back to the fact that he so clearly just assumed you’d reject him. 

“Did it not occur to you that maybe we were such a mess because of what happened?”

“I thought you didn't remember?”

“I didn’t, but it didn’t take a genius to know you weren’t bothered about keeping in contact with me. I wrote you emails and I got one-word answers – maybe even a full sentence if I was lucky; I called but you either didn’t answer or you cut it short because you had to go to practice. You never called back. On my birthday, the first one away from my family, you never called. I didn’t get anything from you when I got a card from your parents without your name signed because they’d just assumed you’d have written one yourself. For about nine months, the most I heard or saw of you was through the TV.” You inhaled sharply, a sudden burning sensation behind your eyes. That first year was honestly pretty awful for you when it came to Sid. What you’d told him on his decking a few days ago had been true, every single word of it. You’d agonised over every single possible thing that could have happened to change it, and for some reason the realisation of why he’d done what he’d done hit you rather emotionally, “You did all of that because you didn’t believe me when I said I never remembered what happened, didn’t you?”

His hands fell to the table, his expression softening into one of sheer guilt, “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, “I really…I didn’t know, I thought it was what you wanted.”

You huffed a bitter laugh, suddenly cold, and right as though it had been scripted, rain began to splatter against the window panes, the sky now an overcast, stormy grey, “When have I ever pretended I wanted something if I really wanted the opposite?”

He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down, “Never.”

You nodded, satisfied with his answer, and took a rather angry sip of tea, ignoring the uncomfortable burn. There was still so much you wanted to know, so many questions you wanted answers to, but at that moment: looking through the window of the back door to see nothing but dark skies and heavy sheets of rain battering your house, there was only one thing that you could really think of.

“While we’re here,” you started, voice lowering almost as though you were anticipating hearing something you weren’t going to like, “Can we talk about your first Cup win?”

Your fingers were back to tapping anxiously against the porcelain of your mug, and the heavy silence broken only by the rustle of his rain jacket was enough of an answer to let you know how this was going to go.

He inhaled, and you risked a glance at him across the table. His eyes were open, but barely, and it looked as though this conversation, or the last few minutes at least, had exhausted him. He suddenly had bags under his eyes, and his eyelids were heavy. He wasn’t smiling but he nodded anyway, face pale and hands beginning to tremble slightly. 

Sid wasn’t one to ever really get emotional about anything. You’d only seen him cry a few times in person, but nearly every single one of those occasions was for something good: a Cup win, a house-warming party in the pantry after he’d moved into his new-build, saying goodbye to his parents at the airport. 

This was entirely different, though. It wouldn’t entirely shock you if he walked back out of your door with a few grey hairs.

“Do you want something to drink or eat?” You eyed his pale cheeks and trembling hands wearily.

He seemed to think about it for a few seconds, before inhaling and casting a quick glance at your cupboards, “Yeah, I’ll get it though, you’re sick.” And then, almost as if something else had occurred to him when he went to push himself up off the chair, he turned back briefly, “You’d tell me when you want me to leave, right?”

The barest of smiles appeared on your face, and you nodded, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

You watched him manoeuvre through your kitchen, flicking the kettle on and reaching to take a mug out from one of your cupboards, as well as taking a tea bag out of the little box you kept them in and shaking the dust out of it, the bag landing in the mug with a soft plop. He turned back when the kettle was still boiling, hands crossed over his chest and standing against the countertop right in front of you.

There was something on his mind, you could tell. There was a high probability that it was something relating to this Cup Incident, but there was something almost impatient about the way he kept shooting an angry glance at the kettle, as though it wasn’t boiling fast enough for his liking, that had you perhaps thinking there was something else playing on his mind.

“What?” You asked, swallowed anxiously.

His head snapped in your direction, eyes wide with alarm and his mouth opened and closed a few times, thoroughly confused, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you want to.”

He closed his mouth just as the kettle clicked, and there was a brief moment where he turned his back to pour the water into his cup, but before you could even say ‘hockey’ he’d spun on his heel to face you again, “I just…We’re gonna be okay after this, right? I don’t want you to not be in my life, I don’t want to not be in your life.” He sighed, “I don’t want this to break us.”

Us. 

Us.

It echoed in your mind, and despite agreeing with almost everything he said, all you could offer by way of reassurance was a sad shrug, “I don’t want that either.”

He nodded, before finishing off his tea and grabbing a protein bar from one of your drawers and sitting back down at the table, shedding his coat and laying it neatly over the back of the chair.

Neither of you said anything for a good minute. It might have been because Sid was munching on that protein bar, but you really wanted to put the matter off for as long as possible just in case what he said did become true. Prolonging a possible heartbreak – an entire era, person and a piece of your identity – from ever occurring, even if it was only hindered a few more minutes.

It seemed, though, he took the liberty of deciding exactly when to start talking.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “this is about the second kiss, isn’t it? My Cup day.” His tone was firm, but there was a hint of sombreness hidden somewhere.

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your mug. Your knees were still tucked to your chin, and technically Sid was sitting to your left, you still choosing to sit on the chair sideways and face the window instead. You were spending an awful lot of time staring at him though.

You spun, feet hitting the floor and mug clinking on the surface of the table. 

“I’m gonna ask a few questions and I just want you to answer honestly, okay?” You asked, inhaling a deep breath and choosing to ignore the thundering heart rate.

He nodded, leaning forwards in his chair in anticipation.

“We were both pretty drunk, yeah?”

“Correct.”

“Nobody saw, correct?”

“Correct.” He was starting to smile.

“I leant in first,” you started, voice shakier than you’d intended, and despite moving so you could see him without giving yourself a neck cramp, you found it almost impossible to be able to look at him. You’d kept some of this hidden from yourself, locked away in a bottle somewhere in the floorboards of your mind – completely inaccessible, even to yourself. To bare them aloud for the very person who shared the secret was nothing short of absolutely terrifying, “but then I stopped, right?”

You couldn’t tell if he was hesitating or if he was struggling to remember the event that had been burned in your mind for so many years, yet you still couldn’t look at him. Not even when his fingers slowly inched into your line of sight, seeking to touch your own hand still wrapped around your mug.

You didn’t move. It might dissuade him from touching you – you hoped it would because you weren’t entirely sure if you’d be able to admit all of this to him if he did.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, and his fingers dropped on top of the table, tapping silently.

“Then you…made the move.” You struggled not to cringe at your wording of it, eyes screwing shut before peeking open again, just in time to hear him answer. You hadn’t asked it as a question, but he took the hint anyway.

“I did.” 

You paused, thinking. There weren’t many times you’d had to ask for unadulterated honesty when it came to Sid: most of the time he gave it to you anyway, but when it came to this kind of topic – you, it seemed, especially in the more romantic sense than simply lifelong friendship – he always kept his cards to his chest, never really revealed anything too damning.

But you’d asked for his honesty, and the least you could do was reciprocate that. It wouldn’t hurt to also milk it a little.

“I wanted to kiss you.” Want to kiss him, “Did you want to kiss me?” Your voice was higher than you’d like it to be, still a little hesitant and unsure. It somehow all felt unnatural, like scaling a foreign terrain for the first time. You couldn’t quite find your feed, where you could or couldn’t stand that would be safe and efficient.

You risked a quick glance at him. And oddly found you couldn’t quite look away. He still had that one hand almost outstretched towards you on the table, but his other was wrapped safely around his mug, still billowing vapour. His cheeks had flushed since he’d had something to eat, but it was his eyes that you couldn’t peel yourself away from.

He was looking at you, right at you, with something you’d never seen before. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was soft without being too gentle, firm without being angry or aggressive. The corners of his mouth were downturned in a sort of sad, melancholic smile, too, and you’d never seen him look at anything else like that – anyone else – apart from when he’d be getting ready to serve a big milestone on the ice.

You’d seen it when he’d put on a gameday suit for his 500th game, you’d seen it when he’d clocked the family in the box at his 1000th game. It was appreciation, gratitude. There was a third answer lurking in the back of your mind, but you refused to acknowledge it for the sake of not getting ahead of yourself.

One question at a time, one answer at a time, only look at the facts.

“Yeah.” The answer flew out of his mouth barely even half a second after you’d looked at him, and he broke into a cheeky grin, quickly ducking his head to his chest to calm himself.

He inhaled, eyes closing briefly before turning back to you with a straight face, and this time it was you breathing an amused laugh.

“Yeah, I wanted to kiss you.” He repeated, nodding for you to continue.

There was one question left. The reminder of it was enough to melt any previous traces of a smile off your face, and instead your mouth twisted at the corner, pulse humming in your head with dread.

“Why did you blow me off the next day when I said we needed to talk?”

His eyes focused on something behind you, and his mouth flattened in a line, self-deprecating and devoid of any true emotion, “I saw it going two ways: you were gonna reject me, or we were gonna do something about it. The way I saw it, I thought you’d already rejected me way back when – I know now that’s not the case – so I wasn’t really scared of that. The thought of it stung but…”

You frowned, “You were scared of me not rejecting you?”

He nodded, “I could never have asked you to sacrifice your entire life just to make me happy. You had a career, a house you’d just bought, friends, you were close to your family. I wasn’t gonna make you choose between all of that and – and just me, was I?”

Your face seemed to crumple sympathetically before you could even control anything. Everything he’d just admitted was nothing short of a testament to his character and who he was, no matter how…you wanted to say he was selfish for choosing for you, and a small part of you believed that, but he was also right. You had everything he’d just listed, and it would have been upsetting to move away if things progressed further and ‘got serious’, but it wasn’t like you would have been completely isolated, either.

He spends a good portion of his time in Pittsburgh, that’s true, but he spends his entire off-season at home in Cole Harbour. An entire four to five months, almost half a year.

You shook your head, hands unclasping from your mug to rest at your temples, “Okay…I kind of get where you’re coming from, but did it ever occur to you how much you had to sacrifice to get to where you are?” 

He blinked.

“You’ve earned the right to be selfish, especially when it comes to me. I mean, sure, I have a life here, I love it, but I never wanted to stay here. That was never my plan. I wanted to play hockey as a career, I wanted to travel and experience things, but that wasn’t what happened. I’m constantly missing a life I never even got to taste and I guess…I guess I’m kind of miserable because of it? I’m grateful for what I’ve got, but it won’t ever equate to what I wanted for myself. I love hockey, I love this camp, but I love seeing you just as much, I always have. It meant something to me.” You hesitated, “You mean something to me.”

You searched his face for a reaction, and it might have taken a few seconds for what you were saying to sink in, because his eyes suddenly went glassy and his jaw clenched. He couldn’t look at you for a while, and he kept sniffing.

You hoped more than anything he wasn’t actively catching your cold whilst you waited for him to say something.

And then: “I mean, for what it’s worth, you mean everything to me–”

“It’s not a competition.”

***

You were lost.

Or, at least, from Sid’s perspective you were: he was standing near the boards on the ice, keeping a close eye on the kids playing the shooting drill he’d set up for them, and he truly was watching them…he just couldn’t exactly help it when his eyes would wander curiously and scour the rest of the ice, practically desperate to drink you in. Wherever you were. He couldn’t see you, and it was getting to that point in the day where he wasn’t sure if that meant you’d left the ice to supervise the locker rooms and talk to parents or if he just wasn’t looking properly (again: he had to watch a bunch of kids with knives screwed to their feet).

See, it had been three days since you’d both sat in your kitchen and mulled things over, uprooting what you both thought to have happened when you were younger and twisting everything into a more truthful, honest version (he admittedly spent the rest of the day in bed; he was so emotionally drained he actually forgot to feed Sam until she started barking relentlessly at him) of events. 

Did he know where you stood with each other now? Not entirely, but he knew you were both thinking about it. That was a shock and a half to have uncovered on a Wednesday evening.

Did he know what he planned to do within the next few weeks? Kind of.

Had you actually seen or spoken to each other since that day? Not apart from group settings: you’d taken another day off to recover from that little bug you’d caught – of which Sid had managed to avoid catching – and the past two days including this one were full of nothing but red cheeks and a peculiar affinity to wrestle a smile off both your faces if you even so much as looked at each other. 

It was a pretty big switch-around from last week, but he welcomed it with…well, he’d honestly never been happier or more excited to be on the edge of starting something with you. He’d thought about it often before, mostly as a weapon to torture himself with when he was already upset over something, remind him of another failure – only that one had been personal and about his life, not anything to do with hockey. It always used to sting more.

He sighed, “Hey, Ryan, try gripping the stick a bit lower, you’ll get more control on your shot next time, ‘kay? Yeah, just like that! Poppy stop poking people in the face with the stick please, I know you find it funny when it gets stuck but it could poke someone’s eye out.” The culprit in question sadly dropped her stick to the ice, and Sid didn’t even have to be near her to know her bottom lip was sticking out in a pout “Thank you.”

It was as Evie pushed forward on her skates with a puck at her feet that something whacked Sid softly on the bum with enough power to send him trailing forwards slightly, but he didn’t take his eyes off the girl in front of him, who sent a powerful slap shot towards the goalie, and the puck couldn’t even be seen until a ding! echoed in the back of the net. Sid huffed a laugh, “Wow, Evie, that was incredible! Keep it up.”

She flashed him an awkward thumbs up, the gloves interfering with the action, and Sid mirrored it before finally turning his attention to a rather beloved blonde. Nate’s brows were halfway up his forehead, mouth contorted like he’d also just breathed a quiet ‘woah’ under his breath, and when he registered Sid was even looking at him, his face melted into one that had become rather synonymous with another person in his life. Nate always smirked when he was about to bring you up to Sid. There were a few occasions where he’d read the room and approached the topic with a bit more consideration, but it appeared this time was no different to usual.

“Kind of reminds me of a certain someone when they were that age, huh?” 

Sid clenched his jaw, trying not to give away just how true that statement really was, before muttering a quick, “You’re too young to have known what she was like at that age.”

Nate made a sound that came from the back of his throat, a short huff of laughter passing his lips, “Dude, you’re so easy to read.”

Sid shook his head, “Next!” Another kid skated forward, and both professionals watched as the goalie caught the puck safely in their glove before chucking it across the ice in their general direction.

“Hey, if you want to skate around for a bit, I can watch this drill.” Nate said, intercepting the puck and adding it to the small pile that had slowly been accumulating next to the boards.

Sid frowned, a crease forming between his brows, “Why?” He drawled, rather suspicious of the sudden generosity.

He had a feeling he knew what it was about, but he wasn’t going to speak ahead of himself and make matters worse – Nate already had enough teasing material when it came to his silent pining.

“It’s pretty obvious you’re distracted and it’s been killing me and Taylor watching you. She’s over there,” Nate lifted his stick, pointing to the opposite side of the rink, where Sid could only just now make out the back of your head. He had no idea what had caught your attention so much as to have your back facing the ice– “There’s a little kid on the other side of the glass with a mini-stick. She’s been pulling faces for the past five minutes, and I just thought I’d warn you before you…y’know–”

“Nate, what the eff?” Sid hissed, watching wearily for any kids overhearing. 

“I’m just kidding. Kind of.” He grinned, “Go say what you need to say and then come back.”

Sid rolled his eyes, but still patted Nate gently as he skated by, “Thanks.”

Nate just shook his head, waving him off, and Sid took that as his signal to skate away, ignoring the undoubtedly humorous glance Taylor was giving him. It was bad enough that they’d noticed what he was doing at all, let alone to have it pointed out right to his face. 

He pushed loose pucks out of the way, skating right around several different drills before crashing into the boards right next to you, his face pressed against the glass to see…three different dribbling toddlers staring up at you both. One had an armful of teddies, the other was wearing a Pens PJ set and the final one was holding a mini stick, the ball left forgotten behind them.

You didn’t even need to turn your head from where you’d leant it against the glass to know who it was that had rather abruptly pulled up beside you. Not only was the side of his face in your peripheral vision enough, but the faces of the parents sitting in the seats were enough to go by. Everyone seemed to sit straighter, smiles a little bit wider at the sight of their local boy interacting with a small herd of toddlers who obviously had no idea who he was.

Except…the kid with the mini stick dropped his fingers from his mouth, stick lazily pointing in Sid’s direction, and even through the glass you could make out the vague words of "Siddie Cosby!” and the excited smile on his face.

Sid waved, spinning the cap on his head the other way around so he could also press his forehead to the glass, and you laughed softly, breath fogging up the panes for a brief moment. The sound had him tilting his head slightly so he could look at you.

He wasn’t sure if he was smiling before he’d turned – he had to have been, though, surely? – but he felt himself smile, if not more than he had been. It was unconscious, like a reflex made worse because you were just so infectious to him.

“Hi.” You muttered lowly, catching him out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t turn your face away from those kids, still pulling funny faces no matter how demanding of your attention he was. You could look at him all you liked later, but for these kids, their moment was this moment.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. Really, you just felt a little too shy looking at him with all those people watching from the stands.

“Hi.” He grinned, also turning his attention back to the kids. The one with the hockey stick suddenly banged on the screen right in front of him, and even despite his quick reflexes, he couldn’t help jumping at the sudden noise in such close proximity.

The kid just giggled, and when Sid cast his eyes to the seats, heart racing in his chest, some of the parents were trying to hide their own laughs behind their hands. 

He almost forgot he had an audience.

His tongue darted out nervously to wet his bottom lip, and he felt you look at him rather than saw you do it, “Are you coming to my birthday party tonight?”

There was a brief silence between you both, and you struggled to hold in a laugh as Sid registered what it was that he’d just said. His eyes closed and he leant his forehead against the glass, sighing hard enough to fog it up.

“Yes.” You answered, tone full of amusement. 

His eyes opened and he twisted his head, still resting against the glass, “Can I pick you up at five?”

You blinked.

His party starts at seven.

It was probably the easiest yes of your entire life.

[usermischief]

♚ Pairing: Sterek ♚ Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale ♚ Tags: canon divergence, getting together ♚ Words: 2883

ao3

---

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Satisfied? Or do you need my social security number too?”

Still, Derek stays silent as he looks at him. It’s not particularly comforting – that is, until his gaze drops to Stiles’ mouth then flicking back up again, a slow smile curling around his lips.

Stiles’ heart jolts in his chest, and he clears his throat. “Delighted my trauma amuses you,” he mutters, disregarding the fact that he continues to make jokes about it as well.

“Delighted I don’t have to kill you.”

---

Click.

Cursing softly under his breath, Stiles flicks the light switch up again. Down. Up. Down. Up. “Fucking hell.” Stiles massages the bridge of his nose. His stupid light. Everything else – even exorcising this damned place – worked out beautifully. Which is a miracle. Thanks to the residual demon, who infested this place after the previous owners fucked around – and found out – with a Ouija board in the late 50s, this house has been in a nightmarish state. Every inch of this place was a deathtrap. Rotten wood. Broken stairs. A ceiling, roof and second floor so unstable, a gust of wind could cause everything to collapse in a heartbeat.

Stiles spent more than one night in a tent in front of the house.

A bark cuts through the silence of the house, startling him out of his thoughts. Drawing his brows together, he looks past the stubborn ceiling light to the second-floor landing. The puppy he’s found under the house, white fur crusted with dirt and blood – aptly named Bobak, Bo for short – and who has refused to leave Stiles’ side ever since he fed him for the first time, is staring at him almost expectantly. Although some dog owners most likely won’t be happy about his lifestyle – flipping and clearing out haunted houses and constantly moving around – Stiles refuses to give Bobak away. Bo might not be the cuddliest or most social of dogs, he still makes Stiles’ life less, much less, lonely.

Bo barks again.

Stiles quirks a brow. “What? It’s not dinner time yet.”

Wagging his tail, Bo bounds down the stairs, nearly tumbling down the last two steps. He catches himself, jumps up the front door once before all but flying around Stiles’ legs then, finally, making a mad dash out of the backdoor and into the yard. There, he keeps zooming around, causing colored leaves to fly into the air, and barking his adorable little head off, too big ears fluttering in the wind. He’s going to miss Bo’s floppy ears once he’s grown into them.

Before Stiles can follow him, there’s a knock on the door. He glances up at the clock, narrowing his eyes once more as it passes the current bane of existence – maybe he should just get an electrician this once – and turns to the front door. It’s not late, per se, but darkness is setting in, and people are still keeping their distance to this place. So, he isn’t usually expecting anyone to swing by, even less since his closest neighbor lives around a mile away, but the person he never imagined to come over is Derek Hale.

Drawing his brows together, Stiles swings the door open.

“Hey.” Derek’s smile seems strained. To be honest, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else – not unlike the first time they met at the only diner in town. Well, met might be stretching it. That day, Derek couldn’t finish his lunch fast enough, even Sally was surprised by his precipitate behavior. So much so, she commented on it while serving Stiles his food.

He had chalked it up to Derek sensing something about him the same way Stiles clocked him as a werewolf the second he laid eyes on him – aside from noticing that the guy is a walking and talking Calvin Klein advertisement. Instead of avoiding him, however, Derek kept showing up all over the place. It seemed accidental, but Stiles has dealt with enough supernatural creatures and grew up with a sheriff that he can recognize stalking behavior when he sees it.

Derek’s never been lurking around here, though.

Well, not until today, that is.

And Stiles’ heart is having a field day with it, which is rather unfortunate with Derek’s supernatural hearing and all.

Stiles manages to clear his throat about thirty seconds into the terribly awkward silence. “Hey.” He sounds like an idiot. He feels like one too. “Can I- do you-” Bo interrupts him with a slew of excited barks, zooming through the hallway and back out again, sending more leaves flying around; it gives Stiles a few seconds to gather himself. “You wanna come in?”

“I bought dinner,” Derek says at the same time.

They both stare at each other, and the silence makes Stiles’ neck grow uncomfortably warm.

Luckily, Derek cuts it short. “I’d love to.”

Stiles steps aside and gestures for Derek to come in. This is happening. He’s not entirely sure how or why, but it is, and Stiles is not about to complain. The last time a hot guy walked into his home was – when? Stiles doesn’t really remember. Which is sad, honestly. Sure, he’s been aware that both his social and love life have sailed off a cliff once he started dictating his life to ghost and demon hunting, but now, watching Derek stroll into his kitchen, he realized for the first time how bad it’s really gotten in the past four years.

“Looks good,” Derek remarks, almost curious in the way he’s taking everything in. “You did an excellent job keeping the old charm alive.”

Crossing his arms, Stiles leans against the large doorway leading to the kitchen. “You’ve been here before?”

Derek shrugs as he puts the bag with the takeout on the dinner table. “Teenagers and haunted houses.”

“Werewolves too?”

If Derek is surprised that Stiles knows, he doesn’t show it. Instead, an almost cheeky grin curls around his lips. “Werewolves especially.”

Stiles snorts and crosses the room. “I expected you to be smarter.” He glances at Derek, smirking briefly, and steps in front of the only cupboard he uses. The good thing about moving around so much is that he never collects any clutter. As a teen and college student, things looked very different. Two boxes, a couple of suitcases and his backpack fit into Roscoe anyway. Now that Bo is traveling with him, he’s got to figure out the new logistics.

“How’d you do it?” Derek asks as he takes the two plates from him.

Their fingers brush, either on purpose or entirely accidental. Stiles doesn’t know, but the touch sends a tingle through his whole body. A good tingle, great even, and Stiles hates to realize how touch starved he really is.

Stiles opens the fridge, scowling a little as he’s greeted with emptiness. He really needs to go grocery shopping. “Very carefully,” he replies and grabs two bottles of beer. “And lots of research." Once he's figured out where to look, finding pictures of old houses isn’t that much of a struggle. Often, he meets the previous owners, who either think he’s suicidal or are very happy to help.

Derek watches him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “The demon or the house flipping?”

“Ah.” Stiles sets the bottles on the table and leans against the edge. “That’s why you’re here.”

Derek merely watches him, eyebrows climbing higher as his expression turns more and more expectant. An alpha after all. He’s probably used to people jumping at his command.

It might be fun to let him stew for a little longer. “You know, you could’ve just asked.”

“I just did.”

Stiles snorts out a laugh, “I meant ask me about why those werewolf senses are tingling whenever you’re around me.” He cocks his head to the side and decides to put himself out there, for once, “unless, of course, there are other reasons for that.” He’s got Derek in his house already and considering that he leaves as soon as it is sold, there’s no harm done, no awkward darting around each other needed in case he’s rejected. Two months tops, and he’s out of this town, where everyone knows everybody, and nothing ever stays secret.

Derek’s lips twitch.

Good. So, Stiles didn’t exactly imagine the lingering looks whenever they, clearly not entirely accidentally, ran into each other absolutely everywhere. In a town with less than 100 people, it’s impossible to hide anyway.

“Tingling?” Derek echoes, more amused than in disbelief.

Stiles lets his head fall back, watching out of the corner of his eye as Derek’s gaze drops to his neck then back up again. “You’re a poor conversationalist.”

“And you’re dodging the question.”

Stiles clicks his tongue, rolling his head to the left to look at the werewolf again. “Geez, D, you can’t just ask people why they’re making you feel weird.”

A flicker of annoyance dances over his features, either at the nickname or his refusal to give him the desired reply. Still, Derek props his hands on the table and leans closer, one eyebrow raised. “I can if I consider them a danger to my pack and territory.”

Fair point.

However, “I literally exorcised this fucking demon.” Although nobody has died in this house in almost a decade, Stiles considers it future deaths prevented.

Derek taps a finger against the table, allows red to bleed into his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles pushes away from the table and faces the werewolf, arms crossed firmly in front of his chest. Although Derek didn’t outright threaten him, Stiles is fully aware that this evening could easily turn into his last if the big bad alpha considers him too dangerous, which would very much be the exact opposite of how he’d prefer this evening to go. He sighs. “I was possessed by a nogitsune when I was sixteen.” Stiles doesn't miss as Derek’s expression return to stoic, listening, waiting. He sees the way his shoulders tense, the way something in his eyes shift, ever so slightly. The moment of truth, always and forever. "It did some weird shit with my body, cracked my mind like an egg, hence the whole-” he waves his hand around. “Thought I could do something good if I can pierce the veil, you know?” It makes him feel less guilty about the shit the nogitsune did while using his body like a meatsuit.

But that’s something nobody else needs to know about.

Derek straightens.

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Satisfied? Or do you need my social security number too?”

Still, Derek stays silent as he looks at him. It’s not particularly comforting – that is, until his gaze drops to Stiles’ mouth then flicking back up again, a slow smile curling around his lips.

Stiles’ heart jolts in his chest, and he clears his throat. “Delighted my trauma amuses you,” he mutters, disregarding the fact that he continues to make jokes about it as well.

“Delighted I don’t have to kill you.”

“You think you can kill me?” Stiles chuckles, playing pretend. Dealing with demons is one thing. They’re very capable of murder, more so than ghosts, but depending on their strength and rank, they need time – time to get into your head, time to fuck with you. They have to chip away their target’s defenses. Knowing and being prepared for a demon makes dealing with them a lot easier. Plus, if he’s learned anything from his own possession, it’s how to keep things out of his mind. Werewolves are a different beast entirely. If they want someone dead, all they have to do is pin them down and rip their throat out.

Derek pushes away from the table and all but stalks closer to him, narrowing the small distance the table offers. “Of course, I could.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the table. It’s one of the few things Stiles could repair from the old furniture, so, luckily, Derek keeps his claws in check.

Stiles swallows drily and rips his gaze away from Derek’s hand, locking eyes with him again. “Awfully confident there, buddy.”

His words are met with a near predatory glint in the hazel eyes. Beautiful hazel eyes, at that. Easy to get lost in.

Focus.

“You don’t scare me.”

Derek stops directly in front of him. They’re nearly chest to chest, and although Derek isn’t necessarily taller than him, Stiles feels weirdly small. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but the way he is holding himself, the way he is looking at him – as if Stiles is a rabbit cornered by the big bad wolf. Red bleeding into his eyes accentuates the whole predator predicament.

Fucking werewolves, seriously.

“Cute,” Stiles comments anyway, uncrossing his arms and straightening his shoulders and spine. “Still not scared, though.” They’re probably both aware that’s not entirely true, but he’s never been someone to back down from a challenge. “You gotta do more than creeping around in the bushes and stare at me with your alpha eyes.” Especially since the latter is actually pretty damn hot, which isn’t exactly helping the situation.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” Derek informs him in a casual yet amused tone.

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, big guy.”

Derek chuckles, letting his head fall forward as he does so – and Stiles can’t help but watch his mouth move. It’s fascinating. Every time he’s seen Derek, the guy has been scowling. Stiles didn’t think he could chuckle, much less laugh.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

Beautiful even.

His heartbeat picks up when Derek locks eyes with him again. “You’re not very attentive.”

“Oh, really?” Now, that is just plain rude and so uncalled for. “How do you think I’m finding these demons? By paying very close attention to details. So, I am attentive. I’m actually the most at-”

Derek kisses him. No ifs. No buts. No hesitation. He just does, and his lips are so soft and warm, their touch makes Stiles’ stomach twist with anticipation. Derek moves his hands and cradles his cheeks, thumb tracing a slow, ever so gentle line along his skin. All of Derek’s hard edges are replaced by something tender and raw.

Stiles’ heart stutters in his too tight chest, and his mind blanks, every single thought swept away by the warm lips pressed to his own. He melts against Derek, pressing closer as he curls his fingers around Derek’s bicep and his eyes flutter shut. A soft, almost helpless sound escapes his throat as a warmth floods through him, followed by a kind of ache Stiles doesn’t quite have a name for. They both settle deep inside of him, spreading into every part of his body. His entire body lights up with a want he hasn’t felt in what feels like forever, a need for closeness more than just desire.

When Derek pulls back, Stiles moves with him, desperate to hold onto the kiss just a little bit longer.

Derek regards it with a soft chuckle, his warm breath ghosting over Stiles’ lips.  

The sound alone makes Stiles wants to kiss him again, but he doesn’t, clears his throat instead. No words come, which in itself is quite the curiosity, and Stiles is almost relieved at the sound of paws hitting the wood. Here to interrupt any possibility of an awkward silence. Stiles glances over his shoulder, watches as Bo enters the room and sniffs the air. It’s probably best to be upfront.

Once more, he clears his throat. “I’m not staying.” He crouches down and can’t help but smile when Bo bumps his head against his leg, demanding attention. “At least not forever. Until the house is sold, and I found the next… target, I guess.” He runs his fingers through Bo’s soft fur as he tries to ignore the way his heart aches at the thought of leaving.

For the first time in years.

Which is ridiculous. He doesn’t know Derek; not how he is as a person, that is. He only knows superficial stuff. What happened to his family, that he’s a werewolf and that he owns the only garage in town, and that he doesn’t need to crawl under cars or get car grime and oil all over himself because he’s loaded. So, he’s either doing it for fun or for the people living in this town… or both. Derek seems to be a good person, but so is Stiles, and Stiles won’t lie — he’s not only a handful, he’s also not particularly nice. Many people called him an asshole. They’re not entirely wrong.

“I’m not asking you to stay,” Derek says as he slides onto the chair at the head of the table, very clearly indicating that he’s not planning on leaving soon. “But maybe I can convince you to come back.” 

Stiles blinks up at him, scratching Bo behind his ears. “You don’t know me.”

“Yet,” Derek adds and looks down at him with a smile.

This fucking guy is going to give him a heart attack before Stiles has figured out his favorite color. Aside from that, it dawns on Stiles that he may have misjudged the guy. “So, you stalked me because you like me.”

The tips of Derek’s ears turn the slightest shade of pink. Adorable. “I never stalked you.”

Bo barks.

“He says you’re a liar.” Stiles raises to stand and pulls a chair out. “I think you followed me around, but didn’t know how to approach me.” Smirking, he sits down as Bo uses his chance to curl up under his chair.

Instead of replying, Derek opens the bag of takeout and pulls out only the best of Sally’s diner. His ears turn just a shade darker.

Stiles props his chin on his hand, not even bothering to hide the smile forming on his lips. He totally could get used to this.

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

This morning I said goodbye to my childhood dog, Kody. He was 18 years old. He was my baby. My best friend. My whole heart. I love him so much.

I remember the first time we met Kody at the animal shelter. He was actually named Tyra then because the staff had thought he was female. Then the first thing he did in our meet-n-greet was try to pee on my brother's leg, and the staff member with us at the time was like, "oops I think this may be a boy actually." So of course we had to take him. When my dad was signing the adoption forms, the desk person asked what he wanted to rename "Tyra" to since "Tyra" was actually a boy. My dad, put on the spot, just went, "uhhhhh Tyrone?" We still laugh about it to this day.

So my dog went from being a Tyra, to a Tyrone, and then to a Kody, because that was the name us kids wanted. I remember the way we thought that name up was because we watched a lot of the Disney show "Suite Life of Zack and Cody" at that time. But we changed the "C" to a "K" because in our kid minds it made the name cooler and more unique.

Kody was a weird little guy. He had a lot of anxiety, which meant he fit right into our family. He didn't get along with many dogs unless they were old and calm and it took him a while to warm up to strangers. When he went on walks, he would have to go and pee on every tree we came across, even though he had nothing left in the chamber and was just doing the motions. He liked to climb on top of the couch and the loveseat and nap there. He liked to nap in warm piles of fresh laundry and patches of sunlight too. We always joked that he acted more like a cat than a dog. When I tried giving him bones or chews, all he'd do was roll on them and then go stuff them under the couch or behind a shelf without chewing them. Actually, Kody was pretty picky with his food in the early days. Maybe because my mom kept giving him table food. But as he got into senior age, he got less picky. Kody also loved getting nightly scratches from my dad. He'd lay in my dad's lap and get so relaxed from the scratching. I'd get a little jealous because I couldn't get Kody to stay in my lap as long as my dad could.

The only command we ever managed to teach Kody was "sit" and he was real good at it if he knew you had a treat in hand. However when he got older and began developing dementia as well as gradually loosing his sight and hearing, he lost the command. The first time I realized he didn't know how to sit anymore, I cried. The first time I realized that Kody didn't know how to wag his tail anymore, I cried. Watching him deteriorate from what he once was, watching the shine in his eyes become dull and cloudy, watching as he gradually lost the ability to do more and more things... it was so painful.

Last night Kody came over to me and laid his head in my lap and fell asleep. It was the first time he had done that in months. I just sat there and pet him and cried. Now I can never pet him or hold him or kiss him on the head again. And it feels so unbearably, unimaginably painful. I can barely comprehend it. It feels like I'm in a nightmare. It feels like my heart's been ripped out of my chest. It feels like a part of my world is ending. But I know I will be okay eventually. I have to be.

Kody, you were a very good boy. The best dog/cat/rat in the world. I'm going to miss hearing your little feet pitter-pattering across the floor. I'll miss your barking when the doorbell rings. Your excited whines in the car. How you would roll on your back for belly rubs. The way you would burrow under the blankets or just shove them around until you made a nest. Your snores and funny twitches when you're deep asleep. How your fur was soft on top your head and then got coarser on your back. How big and round your eyes were. I'm going to miss it all so much. I hope you know how loved you are. And I hope we meet again someday. Thank you for everything, Kody. I love you.

[ilovejeongintoo]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕄𝕖

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy Werewolf San x Vampire Reader Warnings: sex p in v, biting/marking, mirror Wordcount: 4480 Not proofread at all

People think San is so cat coded, which I obviously agree to but... I think a big black puppy would suit him just as much. -> Puppy Eyes

Summary: If there was one thing you hated more than the boring lessons, it was the smell of dog. Especially one that seemed way too interested in your business.

The boredom of attending all these lessons without even knowing what you wanted to do afterward was hell. Being surrounded by people you didn’t connect with and studying subjects that should never have been part of the school system in the first place only made it worse.

Everything about this place was torture, but the worst was the smell of wet dog that constantly permeated the air. Those damn werewolves—a bunch of dogs. They didn’t just smell like one but also behaved as such, with loud shouts that resembled barks and hyper energy that no one could handle except themselves.

The only reason you were still attending the academy was because your parents threatened to take away your things if you didn’t go. Each year, you contemplated whether the time you spent here was really worth the mental torture of being a student, especially lately, when the whole situation became even worse in the form of a loud, nosy, and most annoying busybody.

He bothered you to no end. He just would not leave you alone. You hurled the usual insults you’d throw at any one of those dogs at him. You’d blatantly ignore him and move spots any time he approached, but he would just follow behind, babbling about his day to you—like you knew each other, or even worse, were friends.

This all started after you helped him pick up his books when he tripped and fell backward. His books were strewn across the dark marble floor, and you just happened to be passing by. You were in a hurry but still helped him, probably why you didn’t notice the scent of a werewolf that clung to him. If you had, you wouldn’t have helped.

You guessed you were suffering the consequences of your actions. Now he was trailing behind you, going on about his day, what he learned, and what he ate. If he had a tail, you were sure it would be wagging like the happy puppy he was.

The annoyed expression on your face was usually hidden behind a cold stare, but now you didn’t even bother. You wanted him to know how much you disliked his mere presence. You were sure onlookers could see the tick on your forehead; you were going to burst a blood vessel any day now. And to top it off, the last few exams were coming up. Making everything ten times worse and your shitty mood even more noticeable in the form of a constant glare.

Your shoes clicked along the floor until you reached the library and entered. This was the one place he hadn’t managed to find you yet. Not surprising, since there was no way he’d actually attempt to study. You sat down at a table more or less hidden by a few bookshelves. Half an hour into being completely immersed in Vampiric History, someone sat beside you. You thought nothing of it, not even sparing them a glance.

The person didn’t move, which caught your attention. It was almost like they were turned toward you, waiting. Your eyes caught sight of familiar brown ones immediately. An annoyed sigh escaped you, and your eyes returned to your textbook, intent on ignoring the constant presence of Choi San.

That didn’t last long because you could practically feel him staring holes into the side of your head. Aggressively closing your book, you looked at him again. “What?”

He had the same smile as always on his face, dimples forming. He wasn’t the least bothered by your reluctance to interact with him. His grin seemed to grow bigger by the second.

He just shrugged as if he didn’t understand what you were saying, his face resting on one of his hands, propped on the table, close.

“You know exactly what I mean: stop following me, stop talking to me, don’t even appear in the same room as me.” You listed off. He just nodded, not taking you seriously at all, it seemed.

You seriously had enough.

Enough of all of this.

Of him.

You grabbed him, pulled him up, and pushed him against the table, almost making him sit on it. Your hands slid to his shoulders, and you got closer. This was bound to get your point across.

He still had that infuriating grin plastered on his face, standing there amused.

“Will do.” What a fucking lie.

From this close, you could look at him closely, take him in, if you will. The chiseled jaw, the dark brown eyes, smooth skin, and pretty lips. Once you realized what you were doing, you locked your eyes back on his just before letting him go with a push.

You grabbed your book and bag and stormed out of the library, out to get some air, to get away from San.

There was no way you were starting to develop any feelings for the dog. Objectively speaking, he was handsome, attractive, whatever. But that was it. You must just be getting too used to him being around. Even the smell of him—your nose must be muted to the stench by now.

You didn’t even show up to the rest of your classes that day. The next day, however, you weren’t so lucky to avoid the menace. First lesson and you were met with his pretty face again.

“No, wait, truce, okay?” Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

“I know you told me not to follow. I mean, I did kinda follow you, but just— I wanted to… give you something back.”

His hands fished for something in his pockets, not finding it immediately. He pulled out a bracelet, a familiar one—yours.

You seized it from his grasp right away. Your eyes turned angrier, not believing he would steal something of yours.

He must have read your thoughts because he defended himself very quickly, arms up and all: “No, you left it yesterday in the library.” He continued before you could speak: “I just wanted to return it. I’ll stay away from you.” You could imagine his ears drooping at that.

Okay, you were wrong—just slightly—about San.

Guilt was already starting to form in your gut like you had actually kicked a puppy. That’s what he looked like, like you just told him he couldn’t have his favorite candy. You gnawed at your lip before sighing.

“No, it’s—thanks, I guess, for giving me back my bracelet. This one means a lot to me.” You dragged your eyes over said piece, then back to his form.

“Look, I just don't like werewolves. Not a single one of you. I’m not changing my mind because of this.”

He looked relieved even though you had just told him you didn’t like werewolves.

“Of course.”

You turned away, not willing to look and maybe rethink your decision of having a puppy follow you around all the time. Before you could get too far, you heard him yell.

“You might change your mind!”

You made sure not to look back and give strength to that statement.

The next few days went by quietly. You didn’t see San much, even in your shared classes. He must be doing some wolf thing. Sometimes, you missed it. You kind of realized what a loner you were. You didn’t even talk to any vampire students—not that you genuinely knew any as friends.

The next time you saw San, he only waved at you and walked off in a different direction. That left you frozen to the marble floor.

He just walked away.

No “Hello,” “How are you,” or anything of the sort. It had become such a routine to have San constantly around you that it felt extremely weird now like you lost something.

It was one thing for him not to come to school because of whatever—you could imagine all sorts of reasons. But seeing him walk off without much at all, right in front of you, left you speechless. Your eyes kept searching for him after that, trying to catch a glimpse of the puppy without much luck.

This is what you wanted, exactly what you told him to do. Despite that, you were coming to regret that decision rapidly.

Well, there was only one way to undo it: you had to bury your ugly pride and talk to him. But there was no way you could just do that—just go up to him and tell him you didn’t actually hate him that much? The thought made you shudder. And where would you even do this? Because there was no way you would willingly embarrass yourself in front of the whole student body.

There was only one place you could think of to have this talk: his dorm room. Admittedly, equally embarrassing, but without any eyes on the two of you. All you had to do was sneak into the wolf dormitory, find his room, wait, and then enter. Easy as pie.

You decided to go through with your scheme when he came back from his evening classes. At least you knew when those ended since he never stopped talking about them. (Something about how they make luminescent potions.)

Getting into the dorm was a struggle, involving climbing a window and almost ruining your pristine uniform. The wolf-printed doorstep carpet and the sign plastered with “Choi San” were hard to miss. The number 13 on the dark oak door made it one of the first rooms; you could even see the front desk down the dark hallway. You chose to hide around the next corner so as not to get caught if the resident assistant were to come by, and to avoid awkwardly standing in front of San's door. All of this was so weird—why were you even doing this? You were okay with being alone before, but now, not anymore.

You’d make San pay for giving you a taste of what friends were—after you became friends again, or whatever your relationship could have been considered before. It didn’t take long for the man of the hour to turn up. He was struggling with the key when you sneaked up. Right after he unlocked the troubling door, you pushed him in. Reaching back to snag the key and step in after him like you owned the damn place. 

His eyes were as wide as saucers. Okay, maybe you could have told him you wanted to talk with him privately. Whoops. “What the hell? What are you doing here? I already told you I won’t bother you anymore”

Oh god, you did not know how to start this. It looked like you broke into his room and were about to turn him into a winter coat by the look on his face.

You sighed. 

“I” and stopped. Fuck

“Alright this is going to sound extremely weird” His brows furrowed. “No I-mean not that kind of weird. I just, fuck this is difficult.” You turned around facing the door. You were not going to say this directly to his face. You took another deep breath to think and come up with an actual sentence this time.

“I might have been wrong about you, you’re not as much of a dog as I thought. And I don’t actually hate you,  and I know it sounds stupid coming from me now. But I…I liked the times that you were around, more than I realized.” 

Your eyes were shut tightly as if that would help you gather the strength to say all of this.

“I was hoping that we could start new and be friends?” You rushed to finish. Now you were waiting for him to say now, open that door and walk out.

It was quiet for a moment. Then you felt his hand pull you back until you had to move your legs to face him. Your head was hanging and your eyes were still shut at this point. 

“Hey, look at me.”

You lifted your head slowly and opened your eyes even slower too scared to find out what was going to happen next. Without the protective darkness, your closed lids brought you. Too scared to hear him reject you straight to your face, the irony really.

The only thing that you were met with was San, with a big smile. Just like you knew him. 

“You’re telling me that you don’t hate me, you honestly don’t? At all?” He looked at your eyes moving his head a little to search for any doubt in them.

“Because sure, I might have been a little pushy, maybe a lot. But I thought it wasn’t bad until you said you didn’t want me to hang around you anymore.”

He looked down at your intertwined hands, recalling the memory. 

“I should have stopped when you gave me the stink eye on the first day of talking to you.”

He looked back up, you noticed his flushed cheeks now just slightly pink. His eyes got bigger and his eyebrows raised a bit in an innocent expression. Hair falling slightly into his face. In that moment he undeniably seemed the most like a puppy, any anxiety from your nerves melted away.

Once the expression was one it disappeared just as fast. He leaned a tad a smug kind of smirk formed with those delicate lips.

His hands coming to rest 

“But now, now you’re telling me you essentially miss me?”

“No”

“You do”

“Say it and I’ll become your lapdog again okay? Easy as that” He had a dark look to him, challenging you but waiting expectantly. Like he knew he was right. 

He was.

“I miss it, I miss you San.” It came out more desperate than you wanted it to. You avoided his gaze out of embarrassment. but he kept turning his head to make you meet them again.

You pushed against his chest slightly in an effort to make him halt his movements.

“Alright Stop!”

His hands automatically found themselves on your elbows not letting go and even pulling you closer. When you noticed the little space left between the two of you, you seized your struggle and instead caught mid-breath. From this close, you could feel his breath and see the almost identical fangs to yours poke out.

“If you really want me to stop”

“Tell me you hate me, tell me how you want me to not even breathe the same air as you, just like before.” 

“And mean it” His grip tightened slightly. His eyes not once leaving yours, pupils blown out. There was no way you could do that anymore not with the discovery you had made, about yourself. You liked Choi San, a werewolf, more than you’d like to admit. Somewhere along all the annoying quips of his you grew attached.

You were grounding yourself a little with the grip on his shirt. “I can’t” Your voice came out more confident than it has been all day.

His lips were on yours so fast after. It was better than you could have ever imagined. There was this addicting smell coming off San now, it felt like you were being dragged into him. It made it feel like you weren’t close enough kissing like this. Your clothes were getting too hot, too suffocating. You took his cheeks into your hands and then up into his oreo-colored hair.

The kiss made the hidden feelings burst up like a broken dam. The push and pull between the two of you had strung up so much tension until this moment. To just release the frustration, sheer annoyance, and most surprisingly of all your denied feelings. You pulled him down further, closer. His grip was just as hard on your waist a possessive feeling to it.

The repulsive scent that used to choke you was now mixed with something else, making it so intoxicating, so San. You were pressing closer in hopes of smelling it more, it just seemed to increase the longer you kissed. The closer your bodies pressed against each other in an almost grind.

Your lips disconnected when San pulled back just enough that your foreheads were pressed against one another his warm breath hitting your swollen lips. 

“So you don’t hate me after all?” There was a smirk evident. A teasing lilt to his seductive voice.

“Shut up.” You pull him into you once again by his collar. Your hands roamed the expanse of his chest through his black button-up shirt. For a more deep and heated kiss. His response was his one hand slipping under your shirt, right below your chest.

You know this is reckless, maybe even foolish, probably the most impulsive thing that you’ve ever done. But in the moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the consequences for even a second. Not with him molding so perfectly into you. Your lips detached and you began placing kisses down his pretty neck. You felt a low, almost inaudible growl come from him. It made a pleasant shiver run through your body.

“Careful” He warned, voice deeper and rougher than before, “or I might start thinking you actually like me.” His teasing only made the fire within you burn more, like he was constantly adding gasoline to it. Your fangs lightly grazed the sensitive spot right below his ear, a bolder moan that ended in a low groan escaping him. His nails dig into you a little harder. But it’s not enough. You want him to lose it, to step over that boundary that you still had left, that you could still recover from, and pretend to hate each other again.

There was no way you would let him though. So with more want you dove in interlock your lips once more. Your tongues dragged along in such a sensual motion, it felt so rough and you loved it. His hand that had been buried under your shirt slipped down grazing your waistband. The sensation made another wave of heat course through you, leaving you wetter.

“Tell me to stop,” He murmurs, licking his lips in pause though his actions say the opposite. “Tell me you don’t want this and I will.”

To absolute hell with that. You roughly push him against his couch in answer.

And that's all the encouragement he needs, all hesitation out the window.

He pulls you down into his lap so fast. His hands making quick work of your pants and panties not bothering to unbutton your shirt, he plainly rips it open. A quiet gasp rips through you at the display of strength. He seemed less like a puppy and more like the wolf that you read in books about. Though his hands slow down when they feel the naked skin and his eyes drag along your figure. Like he wants to savor this moment.

Your hands kept tugging at his shirt in question for him to take it off, but he easily complied. Exposing hard taut muscles, smooth skin, and a thin layer of sweat to the desire-filled air around you. You're on him again, planning to get a taste of his skin everywhere. Following his collarbones and down his chest.

Noises leave him every second of the way and his hands move to return the favor. Your body stiffened, the slightest feeling of uncertainty flickering through you in the realization of what you were doing. You’re fighting between the instinct of pushing him away and getting out of here and the unmistakable desire of pulling him closer.

He picked up on it just as fast. A soft and slow hand reaching up towards your face making you meet his eyes. The teasing expression off of his face and replaced with a softer one.

“Hey,” he says low, his tone steady. “We don’t have to do any of this if you’re not sure. I wouldn’t want to if you weren’t.”

But you are sure— in fact you have never been more sure of anything. And maybe that’s what made you hesitate, the realization that this wasn’t going to be just a fleeting lust-filled spur of-the-moment-. It’s something so much deeper, the exact thing you’ve been trying to push to the back of your mind. You’re not sure you can keep denying it so desperately, not with the way he was holding on to you, with the way his eyes focused solely on you.

You shook your head “I want this, I’m sure.” your hand strokes his cheek “I’ve been wanting this for a while.”

This time when the two of you meet it’s more insistent more sure. Clearly over that invisible wall that was holding you back before. His hands cover every inch of your body, pulling your shirt over your head to feel and see your bare.

The next moments were a blur, clothes being thrown off his lips caressing your skin. It’s intoxicating how he moves his hands so smoothly over your skin, how hot just everything is. He’s studying you, memorizing your reactions to hopefully recreate them. Once you're prepped on your hands and knees you register his touches more as they are less rushed and more calculated.

You can feel the warm and big presence of San at your back and you wish you would have looked at what he was hiding under those pants to at least gauge how much you’d be able to take. You weren’t a virgin but you had never been with a werewolf. 

“It’s okay, I’ll make it fit don’t worry” He soothed, and you felt him pour some wet liquid on the curve of your ass and down to your core. You probably didn’t even need all that lube with how wet you felt. You barely responded to San with a whine.

His first finger slipped past your entrance satisfying that burn inside a little. But just after a while when his finger moved back and forth more easily, it burned up more. He entered another finger and shortly after another, they were long but not uncomfortable long and so thick, you felt sufficiently stretched after barely a few minutes.

You could hear San's heavy breathing—he was clearly affected by what he was witnessing. The air was thick with the scent of sex, dirty and potent, mingling with the pervasive smell of sweat. You felt San hover closer to you, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck. He nipped at your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake.

He mouthed at your neck more insistently, as if he wanted to bite down but hesitated. Fear held him back—fear of his own wolfish instincts in such a vulnerable moment. He wasn’t ready to face the possibility of you rejecting his mark. If you did, he wouldn’t know what to do. Not when the only mate he wanted was you—a vampire.

“San,” you murmured, reaching behind yourself to thread your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. You could sense the inner conflict consuming him.

“Don’t stop. I swear to God, if you stop, I will—”

That was all the permission he needed. His final restraint snapped like a thin thread. His fingers withdrew with a wet sound, and you felt him line up his length with your wet cunt before pushing in with one smooth motion. The sensation knocked the wind out of your lungs for a moment. He wasn’t small—not uncomfortably so, but enough to stretch you slightly, making you wiggle to adjust. His hands found your elbows, pulling you back and arching your spine, driving him deeper inside you. As he began thrusting, you couldn’t contain the unholy noises escaping your lips.

He wasn’t holding back at all.

“Oh my God, oh fuck, shit,” you gasped, barely able to keep it together. He felt so right inside you, and the sounds filling the room were nothing short of sinful.

“You’re fucking made for me, wrapping around me so perfectly,” he groaned, pumping harder, going deeper with each thrust. Suddenly, he released your arms, making you fall forward onto your elbows, your head buried in the sofa. One of his hands pressed down on the middle of your back while the other pulled you back onto his length by your ass. It felt like he was reaching up into your stomach.

You turned your head to the side for better air, and your gaze fell upon a mirror reflecting everything happening. The sight of yourself beneath San was as arousing as the act itself. Your hair was a mess, cheeks flushed as if with fever, and both your bodies shone with sweat. You gulped as you watched a drop of sweat slide down his face, hanging briefly at the peak of his chin before falling away. His eyes were locked onto your ass as he ran a hand through his hair for a better view.

San noticed your gaze fixed on the mirror and grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep watching. “See how pretty you are? Now I get to enjoy all of it—just me.” He made sure you wouldn’t look away, his eyes now locked onto yours. He kissed up your neck sensually, never ceasing his thrusts.

One of his hands moved down your stomach, pressing slightly above your pelvis, as if he could feel himself inside you. Your moans grew louder by the second, and San’s brows furrowed in pleasure. His hand moved further down, connecting with your clit and rubbing in slow circles. The stimulation was just enough to tip you over the edge. Your eyes squeezed shut, your legs reflexively clamping around his fingers.

That’s when San took the opportunity to bite down on your neck, his canine teeth sinking into your nape. You shook with overstimulation, the world around you completely blocked out. The roughness of the sofa and the stickiness of your bodies faded into the background. It felt like an electric current was rushing through you. San trembled for a moment, pressing deeply into you one last time before he came, gripping your ass with small thrusts to ride out his high.

It felt like only seconds had passed when San began soothing the small mark with gentle licks. He massaged your hips, anticipating the soreness you’d feel later. When his licks turned into soft pecks, you reached back again, searching for him. Your hand found his hair, smoothing over the damp strands.

“You okay, little doggie?” you asked, pushing the top of his head against your cheek, treating him like your pup. You liked how close the two of you still were, slipping back into teasing now that the intensity had faded.

Your question made him chuckle, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “I just fucked you into another universe, and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

He rubbed against you slightly.

“Next time, I’ll really make you rethink keeping me because—” he shifted to whisper directly into your ear—“I’ll fuck you on my knot, pretty girl.”