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#Cartoons aren’t just for kids
dashiellqvverty · 5 months
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are people like. aware that all the ships from kids cartoons currently winning in the femslash polls are like. canon as well as very central to their shows?? you don’t have to like cartoons to each their own but SOMETIMES the way people talk about them im like oh so you know nothing about these shows. i am saying this as someone who dislikes both lum.ity and c.honi (for very different reasons) like i have no stake in who wins that poll.
i am just like you know luz is Thee main character right?? you know catradora was the whole plot of the show right??? no they’re not good because they’re representation that alone is not enough to make something a good ship (see: lumi/ty but also ch/oni) they’re good because they’re like. interesting and fleshed out characters. catradora and lu/mity and korrasami and bubbline aren’t showing up in the top 100 because they’re frequent side pairings in m/m fics like none of those fandoms have m/m ships that even compare in popularity. like not that this isn’t a larger problem of femslash ships (and like the preference for sanitized couples Is A Thing as well 100%) but like that is not what’s happening Here
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cicada-dyke · 2 years
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physically having to hold myself back from yelling at those old cunts to worry about their own marriages and children - bro forget gay couples in california, you literally haven’t been able to sit down for a meal with your wife without arguing this entire holiday
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asexualastarion · 2 years
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Just saw someone complain about how people only ever talk about childhood media franchises like cartoons, pokemon, etc. and never branched on to Adult Interests. dude I think you’re just online too much
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wickedghxst · 7 months
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you know. after rewatching the og ben 10 & batman beyond. i think i’m starting to realize the problem with cartoons today. they’re getting dumber.
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fiapple · 1 year
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I really enjoyed your tags on that bluey post btw.
oh, thanks anon! that’s very nice of you!
&, yeah, i feel like one of the really under-discussed parts of this conversation as a whole is how the way some people act about kids’ media is reflective of a really horrible view of children as a social class, which i think is where all the pent-up word vomit came from.
on this site especially, some people will repeatedly parrot to listen when media is not for you, and to understand that not everything is made for you to relate to, or with your consumptive needs in mind… and yet as soon as it could be applied to a group they are not personally in, that attitude gets thrown out the window. and one of the many places we see this sort of behaviour is with media made for children.
&, i don’t know, i just think the attempt at excluding children from their own audience spaces overall subtlety plays into the view that children don’t deserve to be seen as people, or deserve to be seen as anything beyond their most basic needs, until they suddenly reach adulthood. and that isn’t really mentioned enough in the context of this conversation.
consistently we see this idea that what children feel or think about media intended for them does not matter because they are not adults, therefore they’re somehow incapable of fully formed wants? or social or intellectual needs? and it’s just really, really inconsiderate overall. just because they may need more simplistic themes or symbolism in order to be able to understand (due to having less life experience & therefore less knowledge to use as a fucking point of reference, not being stupid or less than) does not mean they don’t deserve spaces where struggles they, as children, will relate to are safely explored through art.
i just think it’s really sad.
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fruity-phrog · 9 months
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Okay, I saw someone say that Nimona, while being good representation, “didn’t take the big step forward in queer rep that everyone says it did”.
That is wrong. So wrong, my dude.
Yes, an explicit and open queer relationship in children’s cartoons is not new, per ce. Hell, just this year, two popular kids’ cartoons had the main character in an open, adorable, plot-based queer romance. But this is different for a few reasons.
Reason number one, it isn’t left in suspense. Yes, they had that split for three odd weeks, but they started the film as a couple. One of the very first scenes is them together as a couple, Ambrosius saying he loves Ballister, them holding hands, Ballister leaning on Ambrosius’ shoulder. Ambrosius says he loves Ballister three times during the film, and none of them are any more than halfway in. It’s very clear, from their very first interaction, that they are an established relationship, which isn’t something I’ve seen...at all in other animation.
Secondly, they are the plot. Ambrosius not believing Ballister, Ambrosius cutting off Ballister’s arm, Ballister trying to get the video to Ambrosius - this is what drives the plot. In any other children’s animation with queer relationships, the relationship is not the main focus. Even The Owl House, which is so amazing with its constant representation, would still make sense if Luz and Amity never happened. But Nimona’s plot wouldn’t make sense without Ballister and Ambrosius’ relationship. It, quite simply, can’t be erased. It could work as a friendship, yes, but that’s the point. They could have just been two close friends that fell on opposite sides of a fight, but they weren’t. They were two lovers that fell on opposite sides of a fight. 
Thirdly, they aren’t sanitized for “family viewing”. An emerging trend in children’s animation is to only have mlm relationships as fathers to make them seem more “family friendly”. With the exception of Kipo, there really isn’t many tv shows or films that places light upon an mlm relationship. And if it does, it'll be a teen relationship because teenagers being queer tends to come across as less “dirty” and more “innocent”. But Goldenheart is none of these things. They are adults without the mollifying aspect of having a family. And on top of that, they fight. They wield swords and they get bloody and they shoot at things and get angry and yell. They aren’t “clean” and “innocent”.
As well as this, they are in a film. Films are far more accessible than tv shows. You have to watch twenty seven episodes before Lumity in toh is canon. Troy kisses Benson on the eleventh episode of Kipo. And there are two hundred and eighty three episodes of Adventure Time before Marceline and Bonnie kiss. But with a film, the queerness is much more forward - especially in Nimona, where it’s literally the second scene. Animated films hardly ever display queer relationships, but Nimona did.
Finally - they aren’t perfect. I don’t know about you, but three weeks of thinking your boyfriend/maybe ex is a murderer? Doesn’t sound like a healthy few weeks to me. I have only seen big relationship arguments portrayed in straight relationships in cartoons - think Star Vs The Forces Of Evil - whereas queer relationships either have the massive fight prior to being canonically gay - She Ra - or have conflict, not arguments, that are dealt with quickly - Dead End/The Owl House. But Goldenheart? Goldenheart suffers. Their relationship is pushed to such extreme boundaries as for them to be pretty much exes throughout most of the movie. And yet, they are clearly healthy, happy and very much in love at the end. 
TL;DR - Nimona is amazing with the queer representation, and it is a milestone for LGBTQ+ cartoons. Not only is the relationship romantic for the entire movie, the plot is driven by Ambrosius and Ballister’s sort-of-break-up. In short, they are treated the same way straight people are. They have flaws, they have massive arguments, they have plot importance, they have backstory. They are in love. And that’s what matters more than anything else. 
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moongreenlight · 6 months
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Headcanons for Captain John Price and his VERY young housewife.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
Like unsure if you’ve graduated university yet young. Like he’s gotta be 13 years your senior at minimum. And he eats that shit up. Loves the way people stare and whisper when he parades you around, massive hand planted just above your ass
He’s like Simon in that he prefers you stay at home where he can keep you safe. Hires maids and housekeepers and cooks so your only responsibility is lounge and look pretty. You’re his biggest trophy. Like a prize show cat. Keeping you groomed and pampered and happy. Purring into his hand the moment he comes home.
Lowkey gets so sour when you send the cook home for the day and make dinner yourself. Not that you aren’t a fantastic cook, he just doesn’t want you to lift a finger. Doesn’t like the idea of you accidentally cutting yourself with a kitchen knife or burning yourself on a hot stove. Wants you to just be a trophy on his shelf.
Doesn’t even like the idea of you showering by yourself. Gives you bubble baths so that he can be sure you’re perfectly preened because obviously he’s the only one that knows exactly how to take care of you.
LOOOOOVES that even though you’re so young you fit in perfectly with the other housewives in the neighborhood. Going to spin classes in the early morning, book club, brunch, shopping at the most expensive grocery stores.
Literally treats you like a pedigreed cat. Weekly manicures and pedicures that he’s put his card on file for. You just walk in and they know you’re Price’s wife and that your appointments are prepaid.
And pre-tipped obvi. GENEROUS with his money when it comes to you. And there’s probably a note under your profile that you’re to be paid careful attention. God forbid they accidentally graze your skin with the nail file and hurt his pretty kitty.
Facials and hair appointments biweekly that are the exact same way.
Your picture is posted at the gate of the base because all the guards are expected to know their chain of command and wave them in without question. He just loves that your status as his wife is enough to get you the VIP treatment you deserve.
His ultimate goal is to make you a young mom. Even though you’ve only been married for a year and you’re like 22 he’s actually so pissed that you’re not bouncing a baby on your hip.
Bet he loves the idea of his kids getting bullied because their mom is hot.
Brings you around base for the sole purpose of showing off. Purposely leaves his lunch at home just so you come see him.
The first time you ever met the task force boys he’d asked you to bring something DUMB up. Like a water bottle or something. Who cares. You end up accidentally interrupting the meeting they’re having and Price pulls you onto his lap before introducing you as his wife. Soap and Gaz are kicking each other under the table. Swear to god Gaz does that cartoon gulp. Soap looks like he’s about to explode.
Probably calls you his ‘old lady’ but with the most disgustingly smug smirk on his face.
Btw if you even care you’re such a trophy to him and he’s so invested in his team that he wants to share you with the guys. There’s no ‘I’ in team. So confident in knowing that he’s the only one that can truly pamper you properly that he doesn’t mind using you as leverage to get them to perform well.
Oh Soap did really well on the last mission? He can come to dinner with you guys. Price will dress you up nice and let Soap wrap his arm around your waist when you walk in. Then Price will invite him back for a nightcap and instruct you to drop down between his thighs. Coaching you through the process of palming him through his trousers, unzipping them, springing his cock free from his underwear, taking just the tip into your mouth. Being soooo nice about letting you take your time adjusting your throat. “It’s different, doll. I know. Being so good.” Until he finally snaps and fists the back of your hair, pushing you all the way down so that the room is echoing your lewd, wet gags and moans. He doesn’t let Soap come in your mouth, though. That’s a luxury only he can afford.
And you’re soooooooo happy to do whatever John asks. He treats you so well. The least you can do is oblige his requests every once in a while. He asks so little of you. Plus no other cock compares to his. Even after getting fucked dumb by Ghost, drooling down your chin, you find it in you to look for him. Pupils blown-out, whining softly up to him. Weak and slurring “Need you, daddy. Need you.”
That last part is only if you care tho. I’m normal about it. It’s fine.
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bleedingoptimism · 10 months
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Eddie gets home from the shop covered in car grease and tired but satisfied with a good day’s work. Opens the door to catch Wayne on his way out,
“Your boy was here earlier,” he tells him clasping his shoulder as greeting.
“Dustin?” Eddie asks confused, trying to remember if they were supposed to meet today.
“No, not the kid. The boyfriend.” Wayne says nonchalantly, moving toward his car.
Eddie splutters and coughs, “Steve? Wayne! He’s not my boyfriend!”
Wayne stops mid-step and turns, looking actually distressed when he asks, “Why not!?”
If his life was a cartoon, Eddie is pretty sure his jaw would be hitting the floor right now, “What do you mean, why not?!”
He raises his hands preparing to start numbering with his fingers all the reasons why and opens his mouth and then… nothing comes up.
Actually, Wayne has a point… Why isn’t Steve his boyfriend?
Wayne fixes him with a look and Eddie closes his mouth and shrugs sheepishly.
“Eddie, the kid just showed up with three tupperwares full of homemade food because he said, and I quote ‘accidentally made too much’ which is a horrible excuse frankly, he’s a horrible liar. Which, for the record, I recond it’s a wonderful quality,” He clasps his shoulder reassuringly and then slaps his cheek softly, “Better get your head out of your ass soon and get on with it, son.”
And then he gets in his car and leaves Eddie there, still standing by the door, mouth slightly agape.
💞
Twenty minutes later he’s standing outside Steve’s and Robin's duplex, knocking on the front door loudly.
“Comming! Oh! Eddie, hi!” Steve answers, and just like always, it punches the air right out of Eddie’s lungs when he sees him. He’ll never get used to how beautiful he is.
He’s barefoot and wearing a huge sweater that makes it look like he’s not wearing anything underneath but Eddie knows he is wearing his green little shorts, the ones that should be illegal. It’s his go-to comfy outfit and it always makes Eddie want to cuddle up with him on the couch and kiss every inch of him.
“Why aren’t you my boyfriend?” Eddie asks, not even bothering to say hi.
Steve blinks at him and opens and closes his mouth quite a few times, it makes Eddie think of those cute fish that throw kisses.
“I- I-” He stammers and then he huffs and leans on the doorframe, and smiles at Eddie with his head cocked to one side. It’s a ten thousand wats smile and it just about blinds him,
“I wanted to ask but- Wait, how come you suddenly showed up?” And then his eyes light up, “Was it the tuppers?”
“What?” Eddie asks confused, “No, Wayne asked me and-” And then he remembers Wayne saying Steve had dropped food for them, “Were you trying to feed me into a relationship?”
Steve shrugs, “Maybe… everything else I tried wasn’t working so…”
Eddie thought about it before while talking to Wayne. When he couldn’t come up with any reasons as to why he wasn’t dating Steve, he realized all the little things they’d been doing for each other. Both of them trying to court the other while being incredibly oblivious to each other.
They really are two idiots in love.
Eddie chuckles, and steps into Steve’s space, he moves a strand of hair out his eyes and lovingly places it behind his ear, “So… would you? Be my boyfriend?” he asks him.
Steve smiles and grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him inside, closing the door to the outside world.
Eddie takes that as a ‘yes’.
☕💕
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deadghosy · 1 month
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WHAT ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK READER ?!
Hungry for some kidneys 😋🏃‍♀️
STOPPP CAUSE I HAD A CRUSH ON HIM- WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME BRO😭 I THOUGHT THIS MAN WAS SOOOO FINE🦆💗 which he still is 🤭😘
HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK! READER
prompt: an eyeless man gets dared to go inside of a cartoon for some free “food”
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Ben had dared you to go inside of this cartoon show that was becoming popular. You said hell no of course….but then he said the impossible…
“Would you either go in the cartoon for kidneys or listen to me tell you the whole script of the new movie.” Ben says with a knowing smirk at which one you would chose.
Never in your life have you jumped into a tv before so quick. But here you are as you stand in the middle of a red twin with dead bodies around. So you smile behind your blue mask and got to work.
You were so busy kidney hunting, you didn’t notice a tall red figure behind you smiling intrigued at how you were only looking for kidneys with your scalpel. You felt skinny hands touch your shoulders as you immediately tried to stab the hand quickly. But it was a wrong move because you got pushed by some green magic.
“Quick reflexes. Amazing my friend! You would do good for this hotel im helping” the man said as you stared at him. Before you could protest you got transported to a damn hotel.
NOW ENOUGH STORY MODE TYPE SHIT! NOW FOR THE FUN🔥
I imagine Angel one time seeing you use your tongues to eat a kidney that was in disguise and Angel had so many dirty jokes for you.
“Omg, I bet you’re a woman pleaser aren’t you?” Angel says suggestively as you just raise a brow at him not knowing what he is saying.
Charlie would try to get you to wear brighter colors, but you literally deny it as if you are still stuck in your emo phase making Charlie get war flashbacks to her own emo phase.
Imagine taking your bluemask off and scaring sir Pentious into thinking you are a ghost to steal his eyes😭 so evil but so funny.
I can see husk literally side eyeing you as you just eating. Like he is just so confused how you don’t bite on none of your other tongues.
I know some people draw ej with black fingernails, but what if Angel had painted them for you instead 💗
Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel is like “ah shit I lost my wallet..” and STARTS TO LOOK FOR IT IN YOUR EYES 😭 straight up digging his hands in ya eyeless holes to look for it and he actually did find it with a smile saying “ah Hah found it!”
Legit Angel will remind you of Ben as Angel will shove his phone in your face saying some dumb shit like. “Do you see it? Do you see it ? Do you see it?” As he has a stupid smirk on his face. You snapped grabbing Angel by his throat as the crew tried to pull you off of Angel as he struggles to breathe. “It was worth it…”
I headcannon EJ! Reader and Alastor being compatible friends because they both eat from human meat. But both different as EJ! Reader just eats the kidneys as Alastor eats the whole things
NAH IMAGINE KID EJ!READER GETTING THE LEFTOVER KIDNEYS FROM PARENT! ALASTOR’S PLATE😭💗💗 (so damn cute)
“No no, you use the little fork and the knife to cut it.” “….I literally eat with my hands.”
Just two hungry boys staring at each other while discussing flavors to make out of people.
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The egg boiz likes to bring you dead sinners as you had promised them to read them bed time stories for kidneys..I mean a fair trade is a fair trade. 🦆
Idk but for me it makes sense for EJ! Reader to bite someone’s hand while sleeping cause in the fanon! slender house they are use to pranks being pulled off so many times.
Literally husk was trying to wake you up cause it was your duty to do the bar tendering and you ALMOST bit his whole hand off if it wasn’t for Husk’s scream.
I can see Lucifer trying to show you his ducks because he found how amusing how quiet and blunt you are as he practically shoved a duck in your face forgetting you don’t have eyes.
“Do you see how cute and amazing this is?! It’s a duck that can do the splits while shooting fire!” “I see.” *awkward silence* “I’m so sorry-” “sorry for what.”
I can see how your dynamic with Lucifer is like “I think I forgot something x I have it in my hand..”
Charlie once had you in red as you actually just stood there while she took photos of you. It was like you were ready for the first day of school as Charlie squealed happy to see her new staff wearing red.
“SMILEE!” Charlie say excited as you just stand there trying to smile but it came out strained showing all of your sharp teeth. “Yeah don’t ever smile again.” Angel said in the background as you jumped at him like foxy in fnaf 2 😭
I imagine you just standing there as Alastor puts his arm on your shoulder like an arm rest. Literally you are “😐 what?” face as Alastor is obviously “😄 what a lovely day!”
I can see you and niffty just playing random games during break time as husk just cleans glasses at the bar. It’s a relaxing sight for once without you trying to get someone’s kidney.
I imagine you and Adam having so much beef as he is annoying asf to you.
“Why are you eyeless? So you can’t see how ugly you are?” “No, so I can’t see how fat you basically are so it won’t affect me.”
THE WAY YOU GAGGED HIM- 😭🤭‼️
I can see the Vee’s trying to get you on their side but you would probably just flip them off as you eat a kidney.
I can imagine Vaggie trying to find out why there is black goo on the hotel stairs to find you are crying since Charlie banned you to scalpel anyone’s kidneys.
Vaggie and Charlie give you the angel dust treatment and try to find any scalpels you have in your room
I can see after the battle of the heaven and hell, you would just stand there like “🧍🏾what the fuck just happened..” as you try to scalpel a few angels only for vaggie to pull your blue hoodie away from one.
When Lucifer first met you, he thought you was a teen demon who just got hired. He wasn’t wrong for the hired part, when you first spoke that man thought he heard god himself as his eyes were wide at you.
I can headcannon Alastor bringing a sinner to your door with a note that say, “eat well <3” and you just stand there like….. “did I just get adopted by a cannibal..” you said picking up the unconscious sinner and grabbing a scalpel.
NAH CAUSE I USE TO BE FERAL FOR THIS MANNNN😨😭😭💗💗 HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!🦆‼️
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tired-biscuit · 6 months
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okay but imagine werewolf best friend kiba who has wanted and loved you for years. who has pined and craved and fucked a pair of your underwear and chased off so many 'rivals' behind your back.
imagine going away for college and reconnecting. maybe you go camping. maybe you trigger his rut earlier because he's wanted you for so fucking long that it can't be contained. him at the entrance, unzipping it, crawling over you, waking you up with his head between your legs and begging for you to 'help him out'. for 'just the tip'
but it ends up with him knotting and breeding you and you wake up with his mark on your shoulder and he's already pawing at you again
Finding peace in the spontaneous wild (that is you)
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18+ MDNI, fem!reader/werewolf!bsf!kiba
cw: monsterfucking (he's mostly in his human form, though), knotting, creampie, implied breeding, mounting, size difference, omegaverse themes.
college/modern AU. friends to lovers, one bed trope (kind of, they’re sharing sleeping bags in the same tent), unestablished mating bond, mutual pining, lots of bickering and misunderstandings; they get into one big fight (kiba and reader are polar opposites personality-wise and tend to agree to disagree), usage of sweetheart and bunny as pet names for reader. i think that's everything?
wc: 26.2k
———
You run into Kiba at the grocery store, around two weeks after returning home from college.
It’s completely coincidental; neither of you expects it to happen. You catch him standing next to the fruit section, picking the best-looking oranges out of the bunch with slightly pinched eyebrows and narrowed eyes, and before you can even ready yourself to approach him, he already beats you to it.
He blinds you with his grin despite the distance between you as you raise your hand to wave him over. A single dimple that you were already expecting appears in his right cheek. His smile is toothy and friendly; nostalgic. It throws you back to a much simpler time.
After all, you’ve known each other for years — you and Kiba go way back. Back to when your only concern had been what cartoons to watch, and the urgency to come back home well before it got dark outside was a rule set in stone. 
Back then, the world seemed to be splashed with brighter, more vibrant colours than it is now. A sugar rush was the best thing to ever happen to you before you came crashing down twice as hard, and your mother had called you downstairs for breakfast every single morning before ruffling your hair and rushing off to work. 
Now, you’re happy if you get the chance to FaceTime with her once or twice a week while you’re away at college. Your hair certainly doesn’t get ruffled anymore and you make breakfast yourself.
Even the trees in your neighborhood have changed, no longer appearing as tall as they used to be because, well, back then you were the smaller one. The sidewalk on your street was sizzling hot with summer heat, but now it's getting worse each year, and your feet aren’t bare anymore as you walk on it; no longer trekking the familiar route that would lead you to the house of the very boy, who now stands before you in the middle of the grocery store instead of leaning against the open doorway of his childhood home, impatiently waiting to pull you inside.
You used to spend nearly every single day with him. Going on adventures with your bikes — you with your helmet on, him without — until your legs were aching from pedaling so much had become a daily thing of sorts. Constantly coming up with new ways to entertain your never-satisfied, highly imaginative kid brains was a favoured pastime. Wearing scrapes of all shapes and sizes on your knees and palms like they were badges of honor was a thing to be expected. 
But that’s all gone now.
Because now, you’re both adults. Juggling jobs and degrees — well, at least one of you is, not that you’re surprised in any way that Kiba hasn’t chosen to try his hand at college — and all that other crap that consists of time-consuming responsibilities that can be quite pesky and bothersome, but make your lives easier to live nonetheless. 
It feels like an aeon has passed as a result. Like your childhood had been whisked away from you by neither of you ever realizing it until it was far too late. So, you’ve drifted apart. It tends to happen. 
Come to think of it, when was the last time you’d seen your trusted partner in crime? Three years ago? Or has it been four already? You’re unsure.
All you know is that it’s been long. Too long. College feels like it’s been nothing but a rather confusing blur, to say the least.
But so does Kiba.
And so do you.
You’ve both become utterly indecipherable in each other’s eyes. Like foggy glass on a rainy morning.
So you use a couple of moments to merely look at each other because of it; to wipe the condensation off the glass with the sleeves of your phantom sweaters. Him, with those goddamn oranges that he’s still holding in his too-big hands, and you, with your shopping cart that you forgot back at the end of aisle 7 twice already. 
You stare and stare and stare, all until your burning curiosity finally gets the best of you, and you can’t help but invite him to approach you with a not at all subtle aim to appease it. 
Kiba visibly perks up when you wave him over. He shoves the oranges into a reusable bag that his mom had always nagged him about using, and walks over with that confident stride you’d always envied him for having. 
And then all of a sudden he’s right there, in the flesh. Looking the same as he’d always looked, but also not at all.
It’s weird. His smile is the same but the face that surrounds it has changed. Finding yourself in his presence again after a period that you’d describe nothing short of a small eternity, you realize that even if the grin of your childhood best friend is an exact replica of his old one, everything else has either faded away or been replaced by something new.
And new means foreign.
Because as you tip your head slightly upwards to initiate proper eye contact this time, you realize that Kiba has gotten taller. Way taller. Even with his posture relaxed, he towers above you with no effort; something he didn’t get to do back when you’d been nothing but a pair of runts, practically conjoined at the hip.
And that’s not all there is to it. Besides his impressive height, Kiba has also become broader in the shoulders and longer in the legs since you’ve last seen him. He has a sleeve of insanely intricate tattoos covering nearly the entirety of his left arm; it reaches up to the short sleeve of his light-grey tee and probably up to his shoulder. He’s also lost most of his baby fat, and thus now owns a face more defined than you ever recall it being. 
His mop of hair is mostly hidden by the faded baseball cap that he must have put on to fight the summer heat that’s raging outside, however there are still a couple of rogue curls peeking out at the sides and at the nape of his neck. The brim has softened from how old the cap is, not as bent downwards at the corners as it surely used to be ages ago, but at least it still gets the job done. 
He’s always had a habit of being lazy whenever it came to getting haircuts. It seems like some things did manage to stay the same, after all.
You investigate further. As far as differences go, the edge of Kiba’s jawline is sharp instead of round, and his cheeks look smooth to the touch. He’s clean-shaven; the embarrassing peach fuzz days, which you used to tease him about for months on end, have ended. 
He’s a grown man. A pretty darn healthy, vigorous one, it seems.
And speaking of being healthy, you remember a time when he wasn’t.
———
You’re fourteen again and find yourself back in a rather familiar bedroom.
The air inside the room smells warm, like wood and your second home. The sounds of the house are just the way you remember them being. 
There’s someone talking downstairs. Furniture cracks and snaps as it settles in even if it’s old and has had more than enough time to do so already. Dog claws ceaselessly click against the floor. The TV is on. You can hear the weather forecast for tomorrow if you strain your ears hard enough. 
And then there’s the shallow breathing.
Oh, yeah. Right. 
Kiba’s sick. 
Your smile wavers as you keep sitting on the edge of the bed, his bed, that you’d fallen asleep in a rather embarrassing amount of times back when your legs were shorter and it hadn’t been considered awkward or improper just because your best friend belongs to the opposite sex.
The sheets are a tacky design of light blue and white and the mattress is old, but sturdy enough to not cause any worry of having to buy a new one just yet. It supports both his and your own weight fairly well, however it won’t be able to do so for much longer, you think.
You turn your head towards the window. It’s fall and it’s raining outside — the heavy raindrops rattle against the glass every so often whenever the wind catches them, making you stare out at the foggy grayness that sluggishly spirals on the other side.
You’ve left your boots downstairs. In the hallway, where Tsume, Kiba’s mother, had greeted you and ushered you inside the moment you’d come knocking on her front door, looking soaking wet to the bone. Besides your boots, your bright yellow raincoat resides there as well, probably dripping from the hanger onto the floor, making a puddle you’ll have to feverishly apologize for later.
With your train of thought coming to a halt, you eventually grow tired of watching the nearby woods that reside next to the Inuzuka household. So you shift your gaze again. 
This time, you focus on the room itself. There are posters taped to the walls, the majority of them depicting movies and rock bands that you’ve never really fancied yourself all that much. The desk is littered with clutter, most of it school-related but you’re able to spot a couple of comics in there as well. The alarm clock on the nightstand is digital; it shows the time. 
3:27 PM.
It’s a Thursday afternoon, but it’s also the fourth day that Kiba hasn’t come to school. The seat in the classroom that he usually sits in remains empty — you know that because you keep it reserved for him by placing your backpack on it each morning. He’s been absent ever since the pain in his limbs and the unyielding fever had become too much for even him to handle; the boy who just loves to brag about never getting sick. 
All right, you’ve got to cut him some slack because in some way, he isn’t even actually sick? His growth spurt — and his entire puberty experience overall, if you could even call it that — is the thing that has taken such a toll on him, not actual illness.
And in some way, it has taken a toll on you, too. Seeing him ache hurts you just the same, even if your bones aren’t the ones that are currently growing much too fast, much too soon.
So here you are, bringing him copies of the notes that you’ve been religiously taking in class for the fourth day in a row. Keeping him company. Wiping the sweat off his forehead with a rag soaked in water, like a good best friend. Over and over again. Without stop.
His dark brown hair is damp from all the water and sweat, it sticks to his temples. He’s burning up, to the point that his face is flushed pink instead of tan, but he’s still shivering all over underneath the covers. 
Your heart hurts as you watch him endure such profound agony; it makes your chest squeeze tight. He’s clearly fallen ill in some shape or form and is in obvious pain, but no matter what you tell him, he simply refuses to go to the doctor’s office.
Truth be told, you feel rather surprised that his mom hasn’t dragged him there herself yet. Taking into account that she’s usually completely unfazed by his overwhelmingly stubborn nature, you’d expected her to not be taking any shit from her son whatsoever and would be firmly setting her foot down when it came to anything concerning his health. Granted, while he did inherit most of his obstinate qualities from her side of the family, the fact that—
“Stop worryin’ so much.”
You blink in surprise. “Mm?”
“I said stop worryin’.”
The feeble request that Kiba makes sounds firmer this time. It makes you look up from the rag you’ve been subconsciously clutching in your hands with a near death grip for the last five minutes or so. 
The slightly tingly feeling that dances within them now is somewhat hard to ignore. Especially at the tips of your fingers.
So you rest your hands on your lap, rubbing your palms up and down your jeans just to have something to do now that they’re empty. By the time you finally will yourself to turn your head, Kiba is already looking at you from the confines of the cozy prison that is his bed. 
His eyes are nearly half shut, eyelids heavy with lead-weighted exhaustion, but his expression is riddled with an emotion you’re not mature enough yet to fully decipher, much less understand.
Not that you’d ever tell him that, but you'd always considered him as the emotionally smarter one of your little duo; even with his awfully short temper taken into consideration. 
After all, while you excelled in academics, Kiba sought different places to thrive and prosper in. It didn’t take a genius to see that he’s practically been made to communicate with others; that he’s a proper people person. Shaped by people to be loved by people.
And the people do tend to love him. They really do.
Now that you think about it, that may also be the reason as to why he has way more friends than you. Why he can usually turn most situations to his favour, while you normally struggle to avoid the worst of outcomes. Why he knows how to read you like an open book Every. Single. Time, while you just play a never-ending guessing game of what’s happening inside that thick skull of his.
You’re an odd pair together. He’s nothing like you and you’re nothing like him. It’s no wonder that some don’t believe you’re actual friends at first, however Kiba has always been fast to prove them wrong. For some unknown reason, he’s attached you to himself and has been pulling you along for the ride ever since the day he first saw you. It’s been like that ever since.
Meanwhile, you’re just happy that you have someone to spend time with. Being so introverted proves to be quite a nuisance whenever it comes to meeting new people and acquiring friends, so he’s pretty much all you’ve got.
And that makes you care for him even more.
“How on earth am I supposed to ‘not worry’,” you begin to say quietly, making air quotes, “when my best friend has been practically chained to his bed for the last four days?”
Immediately, Kiba brushes you off with a flick of the wrist, gesturing that he thinks you’re overreacting. It pisses you off greatly, especially when he says, “Oh, please… I’m fine. You just worry too much.”
“Are you, though?” you ask. “Fine?”
“Are you?”
You exhale through your nose as you attempt to relax and wiggle your fingers, trying to appease him or convince him otherwise, you don’t know. 
The truth is, you want to tell him that no, you’re not fine. You want to tell him that you are worried sick for him because he is sick and won’t admit it. You want to tell him that you love him, that you care about him. Not in that kind of way, of course — goodness, no! — but in a way a young teenage girl who doesn’t know any better can love her best friend.
But instead, all you do is stay quiet because being considerate of others is your go-to. Besides, his headache is as bad enough as it is already. Who are you to make it worse by troubling him with your nonsense?
Unfortunately for you, Kiba doesn’t buy your rather bad portrayal of calm. All he does is sigh at it.
Continuously.
“What? What are you sighing for so much?” you instantly snap at the sound and aura of exasperation he emits, now. Your tone is razor sharp, much sharper than it needs to be, but you just can’t help yourself. Being so different from you, he can be outright infuriating sometimes.
“Nothin’,” he answers back, and yet he can’t resist giving you that look that definitely means there is something. “It’s nothin’, bunny.”
Your tone falls flat at the nickname he’s given you because of your rather timid personality, “Liar.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
He grunts, sighing again. “Oh, c’mon—”
“What?” you quip again. “You told me not to worry, so here I am; not worrying! I’m doing just like you’ve said.” 
The small wrinkle that’s etched itself between your brows deepens as the words rush out of you in one great swoop. It’s clear to you both that you don’t really mean them, but it looks like there’s definitely no sign of you admitting them coming any time soon.
“Fine, whatever.” Kiba almost sounds like he’s grumbling as he says, “You’re not worrying. There. Happy?”
You scoff. “No? Yes? I don’t know if I’m happy!”
He manages a weak smile at your indecisiveness, a mere quirk of an upper lip that’s not nearly as lively as it normally would be if he weren’t so sick. Your body tenses as he shuffles closer to the edge of the bed where you reside and nuzzles his face deeper into the pillow, wiping the sweat off his cheek right into the bedding this time around.
His voice comes across as muffled from the way he’s still hiding his face from view when he says, “I can practically see your brain catching on fire from all that worry that you’re apparently ‘not’ feeling, ya know.”
You can’t stop your eyes from rolling back as far as they’ll go. They just do it completely on their own accord whenever you’re with him, it seems. “And how can you possibly—”
He points at you with one tired hand and winces at how terribly heavy his arm feels with the action. It’s unpleasant and draining, but he wants to prove a point. So he keeps it nice and steady as he says, “Look, there’s smoke comin’ outta your ears already! You better chill out, or that lil’ pea brain of yours is gonna get burnt to a crisp or somethin’.”
He hisses like he’s just burnt himself after he teases you, drawing yet another scoff out of you. 
A pout graces your lips as you glare at him from underneath your lashes; ever the unexpected drama queen. “Well, at least I have a brain to burn, unlike yourself.”
His eyes settle on you again. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like, dummy,” you say. “I can bet you five bucks that there’s nothing but hay stored inside that freakishly big head of yours!”
“I—” He bristles at your comment before his eyes open wide and he scowls. “Shut up! My head ain’t big!”
Your expression mirrors his own, now. “No, you shut up!”
“You can’t talk to me like that; I’m sick!”
“So you finally admit that you’re actually sick, huh?”
“No, wait, that’s not what I meant—”
“Nu-uh, you said it so you meant it!”
Everything is quiet as you lean forward to point and dig an accusatory finger into his chest. He tenses but relaxes in a beat of a moment as the remaining pads of your fingers join in and graze the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt. Swipe to the right, then slightly upwards, the flat of your palm rests above the place where his heart lies.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump! 
His heartbeat is fast. Strong. Like a song that makes you want to scream the lyrics to instead of singing them so that you can feel it better inside the marrow of your bones.
But you don’t feel like listening right now.
“Hey, what’re you—”
He squirms and lets out a small noise of surprise when you suddenly jab him in the ribs.
Exchanging a quick look of betrayal with your best friend as he slaps your hand away, you feel your lips start to quiver. It’s not long before you both succumb and break into a fit of quiet laughter. The tension gradually dissipates with every chuckle and snicker, right along with your worries. At least for a little while, that is.
Kiba’s laugh cracks midway. You’re unsure if it’s because of the fact that he’s not feeling well or because his voice is just getting deeper with age, however you’re still giggling by the time he clears his throat and reaches over to place his hand on top of your own.
Your eyes instinctively flit towards the contact. It’s not anything new, you’ve held hands with him before — god knows you’ve gotten fake-married on at least three different occasions throughout your childhood, and with three different flavoured ring pops, at that — but as you now gaze at the blunt crescents of his nails, you can’t for the life of you remember his hand ever being this hot to the touch.
It’s concerning.
“Dude,” you whisper, your voice slowly dropping from playful to wary. “I don’t want to nag you about it anymore since I know you don’t like it, but I seriously think that you should go see a doctor… You’re burning up and it’s probably—”
You twitch as Kiba gives your hand a gentle, albeit unexpected squeeze to make you look up at him again. 
Just like your voice, his expression has switched from his previously boyish one, to a much more somber kind that, truth be told, you’re not used to seeing on his face all that much.
It makes your sentence, well, rambling, gradually fade into silence as you finally indulge him for once by keeping your mouth shut. He used to think you were quiet back when he’d met you. Now he knows that you just have to get comfortable in order to start speaking.
Shadows from the swaying branches outside dance across the side of his face that he hasn’t got buried in the pillow. Looking like he’s contemplating something heavy, Kiba swallows the saliva that’s gathered in his mouth whilst he runs his thumb along your knuckles.
The brief attempt at soothing you manages to bring a smidge of peace to the otherwise growing hurricane of emotions that’s steadily whirling somewhere inside your ribcage, however it’s over much too soon to actually make any difference.
Your look of concern only worsens as a result. Concentrating hard, you manage to repress the sudden urge to start biting your nails and tugging on the sleeves of your cream-coloured sweater that you’ve put on this morning.
“I’m just worried about you, is all,” you admit what he already knows, so quietly that you doubt if he can even hear it. “I just want you to get better.”
“I know,” is all he says. He can smell it on you.
“Then why won’t you—” You squeeze your eyes shut, groaning with irritation. “Gosh, why won’t you just do something about it, then?”
“Because I have to tell you something first,” he trails off somewhat reluctantly, and for once, he sounds like he’s actually being completely serious. “You just… you gotta promise me that you won’t tell anybody.”
Your reply comes quicker than one sequence of his heartbeat, “I promise. Besides, who would I tell anyway?”
“I mean it,” he says. You watch as he shakes his head slowly, sighing for real this time, not just to annoy you. “You seriously can’t tell anybody; not even your mom or Sakura or Ino. Especially Ino, for that matter.”
Offence bubbles within your chest way too fast at the merest hint of distrust. Since when did he start thinking you were one to yap out every little thing he tells you? 
“And I really mean it, too,” you fuss, brow wrinkling. “Jeez, Kiba; if I promise you that I’m not going to tell, then I’m really not going to tell! I’m not that close with Ino and Sakura anyway.”
Kiba blinks, seemingly surprised by how heatedly invested you’ve gotten into learning his secret. But also by how close you’ve managed to squeeze yourself next to him with the upset feelings to overwhelm you, briefly forgetting the lengthy speech about how he should go see a doctor. How you wait, evidently impatient and with bated breath, just so that you’d be able to hear every word he has to say.
He’s been seeing you in a different kind of light as of late. So perhaps it’s time that he shed some of it on himself now.
He’s always been one to love the spotlight, after all.
———
“Well, well, well… do my eyes deceive me, or have you finally gotten taller, wolf boy?”
The short laugh Kiba lets out at your innocent taunt doesn’t crack like it did back when you were fourteen. Instead, it’s deep and hearty; it reverberates deep inside his chest, sounding like a voice a storm would possess if it had the ability to speak the human tongue.
“Still insisting on that ol’ nickname?” he asks as he rests one hand on his hip.
“Of course,” you reply, chuckling. It’s hard to take him seriously when he looks like a nearly perfect replica of his mother in that exact moment; standing so disapprovingly, red shopping basket in hand. “I mean, who would I be if I did not make fun of you every chance I get?”
“Well, I dunno,” he mumbles whilst his eyes flick up towards the ceiling, seemingly searching for something. And then he looks at you again, but this time with that infuriating half-smile that you can’t say you’ve missed as he says, “A decent fuckin’ person for a change? Maybe?”
It’s light-hearted, what he says. Fun and provocative, just like he is. Like he’s always been.
So you bite.
“Oh, Kiba, Kiba, Kiba,” you purr, angling your head to one side playfully whilst clicking your tongue against your teeth. Your hand presses against his chest, the action so familiar it’s become muscle memory by now even after years of not initiating it. “When has being decent ever been fun to someone like you, mm?”
And there it is. The strong heartbeat corresponding to the soft lilt that appears in your voice when his name leaves your lips. Just like it’s always done whenever your only goal was to fluster him for ‘funsies’.
However, the interaction that was once so familiar to you is not quite as recognizable this time around.
Because now, it invites his gaze to settle back onto your face rather than pushing it away into the corner of the room. 
So he stares at you now. Leers. 
You try your best to ignore the way your muscles instinctively stiffen at the sight of the prolonged slits that slowly switch places with his pupils. Try your best to pay no mind to the way your pulse suddenly accelerates, pumping blood and forcing all of your senses to become overwhelmingly acute.
It’s done so fast that it makes you feel sort of dizzy. He stands straighter and every single hair on your body stands to attention in return. Goosebumps cover your skin the same moment as it starts feeling like it’s being pulled taut over your bones. You try to blame the sensation of a chill creeping up the back of your neck on the store’s AC but you know better.
The people who surround you don’t matter anymore. This summer’s hit song that annoyingly keeps on playing on repeat over the speakers above your heads has turned to white noise. 
It’s just him and you and you and him. Past, present, future.
And fuck, his irises are no longer brown. They’re darker; golden, almost unnaturally yellow. The colour gets eaten up fast as the pupils expand and shrink continuously. He zeroes in on you, on your mouth, on the curve of your face, on the bare side of your neck that you’ve got exposed with your ponytail and the tilt of your head. 
It’s been years since he’s last looked at you like that; that one time before you ran off to college, when you took it a step too far with the innocent flirting and you’ve almost come too close for comfort. 
But unlike before, he simply refuses to tear his eyes off of you this time. Refuses to relent. Refuses to blush and turn away in that sheepish way that is so uncharacteristic for an exceptionally, sometimes annoyingly bold person like him and that reminds you more of yourself.
His odd persistence causes him to pin you down with a single look, making you freeze on the spot.
Just like a predator would do to potential prey.
But that’s silly. You’re not prey! You’re his best friend, or well, you used to be once in a time long past. So keeping that in mind, you force yourself to quickly shake the eerie feeling off of your suddenly tense body as if it’s a heavy winter’s coat you’ve foolishly donned on, and ease the sudden tightness that tries so hard to take up residency within your chest, now.
But despite all of the attempts at self-soothing, as well as the countless comforting, reassuring mantras that you keep on playing on a loop inside your head in the same way you do a newly-discovered song on Spotify, you don’t really know what he’s like anymore, now do you? 
You haven’t seen him in years, after all. Haven’t spoken to him in ages. You left him all alone, left him to his own devices after he’d given you the same look he’s giving you now.
What if he’s managed to become more wolf than human with all that alone time?
The question makes your head want to hurt, so it’s no wonder that your voice comes out somewhat small-sounding when you finally gather yourself just enough to murmur, “You’re doing the thing again.”
And his sounds just a smidge on edge, just a smidge too sharp as he takes a step closer and mutters, “Thing? What thing?”
“You’ve got, uh… y’know…” You swallow audibly and try not to pay attention to the way his gaze slides down to your throat because of it; to the way it softly bobs as the sticky spit travels down, down, down. You swear that you can see the corners of his lips kick up at the sight of it. “You’ve got nightmare eyes.”
“Huh?” It takes him a second to realize what you mean. To remember one of the old codes you’ve come up with using whenever you’re in public, amongst people who certainly don’t know what he truly is. 
And then, at long last, the intensity in his expression ceases and brightens up as the realization dawns upon him. It’s like a lightbulb turning on with the flick of a switch. 
“Oh. Shit. Fuck, umm,” he curses like a sailor whenever he’s caught off-guard. It makes you relax just the tiniest bit as he finally musters a genuine, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even… notice.”
You watch as he proceeds to rub his eyes with one hand, all whilst you exhale a long puff of air that you’d almost forgotten you were holding in the first place. 
He looks at you again, genuinely confused and apologetic, and this time with pupils back to their regular circular shape. It causes some primal sort of relief that reaches the very core of your psyche to wash over you.
You’re free to move again. 
“It’s— Hah, it’s fine,” you manage weakly. “Besides a pretty awkward start to a conversation, it’s no biggie, really.”
“Fine? It definitely ain’t fine,” he retorts immediately. “You wouldn’t be lookin’ like you’re scared shitless right now if it were fine.”
“Me? Scared of you? Oh, please!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest even if your limbs feel very wobbly and soft like jelly all of a sudden. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He blinks again, his look a slightly incredulous one. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”
The bridge of your nose scrunches up in mild confusion as you ask, “Forgot what?”
Kiba grumbles this time, pointing to his own nose, “Uh, the fact that I can literally smell the fear on ya…?”
Oh. Oh! He’s right, you somehow did manage to forget that; forget his ability to smell how someone is feeling just from the way their hormone levels change the very base of their scent and the sweat they exude as a result. Or whatever the science behind it is.
Jesus fucking Christ. Him and his stupid wolf genes. What’s next, him pinpointing the day when your next period is due?
As if that hasn’t happened before.
“Wha—...? Of course not! Tsch.” You try to play it off with a click of a tongue that doesn’t manage to convince either of you. “What I don’t remember, however, is giving you permission to sniff me like some sleazy creep.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he bristles immediately at the remark. “You know damn well what I meant.”
You nod. “Yes, that you’re a sleazy creep.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” he asks. “Stop breathing around your presence?”
“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
He gives you a pointed glare. “It also wouldn’t hurt to try shutting the fuck up every once in a while, and yet here you are.”
“Wow, I can’t believe I’ve also managed to forget what a prick you are.”
“Right back atcha.”
You both share a short laugh at your little faux quarrel, the tension slowly relenting. The entire interaction is familiar. 
His shoulders relax, your heartbeat slows down to something a bit more normal. He doesn’t point it out just for the sake of not starting yet another petty argument.
“But seriously, don’t worry about it.” You pause at some point, stifling another brittle chuckle that bubbles up your throat. “I know you can’t control your weird, spooky eyes, okay? And besides, I’m used to them anyway! Well, kind of… I guess I’m used to them…? Gosh, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
Is it because you’re nervous?
“Still,” he chides, sighing. “It’s been years and I should’ve learned how to fix it by now. It’s just—” He takes a breath. Ponders as various excuses and half-truths start bouncing off the walls inside his head. “It’s just that I dunno how to control it whenever you’re… umm...”
You give him a second, but when he doesn’t say anything else, you bite the bullet to ask, “Whenever I’m what?”
“Ah, nothin’,” he mumbles whilst scratching his cheek. You narrow your eyes as he fixes the brim of his cap. As he tugs on the collar of his thin t-shirt with its stupidly oversized Nike logo. He’s fidgeting all over the place, especially when he feels the need to add, “It’s nothin’.”
It feels like life is repeating itself all over again.
Your curiosity makes you lean further into his space just like you had a habit of doing back when you were kids. Only this time, he doesn’t take your hand. He doesn’t stroke your knuckles one by one, but rather pushes back, creating more space between your bodies.
Well, that’s new.
“C’mon.” Your tone falls slightly flat because of the sudden disappointment that reaches way deeper than you’d expected it to as you ask, “Whenever I’m what?”
He sounds surprisingly stern as he says, “I told you… it’s nothing.”
A long pause ensues. And then all he gets from you is an, “Okay.”
Awkwardness lingers in the air once again. It makes you both uncomfortable because neither of you is really used to the sudden quiet. You’ve gone through so much, so many experiences together and now it’s come to… this? Walking on eggshells around each other until the end of time just because of that one event in the past and now this one?
Fuck no. As if you’re going to let that happen.
So you plaster a smile onto your face, one that doesn’t really reach your eyes just yet as you say, “Just so you know, you’re acting hella weird right now.”
“Well what did you expect, bunny?” He shrugs and you try to act like you don’t notice the way his t-shirt tightens at all the right places with it. Goodness, he’s changed so much in just a couple of years, you can hardly believe it. “I mean, I bump into you after literal years of no contact whatsoever, and when I finally do, all you do is argue with me and call me a, what was it again, ‘sleazy creep’?”
It’s hard not to giggle at the air quotes he feels the need to show you with the two words. It makes your face lighten up as you say, “Stop calling me that.”
“What, bunny?” He smirks, now. Smirks! “Sure. But only after you stop calling me all of your stupid nicknames.”
You muse like a cat. “Why of course, Jacob.”
His expression turns blank in an instant, the smirk gone as quickly as it came. “Seriously?”
“What? It’s just a name, isn’t it?”
“Just so you know, I still regret the day you made me watch Twilight with you.”
“Oh, shush. You loved it, and besides; it was on theme!”
You feel your grin growing into a genuine one as he scoffs and grunts something under his breath in reply. He’s clearly annoyed with all your bullshit.
“Mm?” You blink, the corners of your lips twitching upward, persisting. “What was that?”
“Nothin’.”
“No, no, none of that again. Out with it; I want to hear what you said.”
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes, the honey that swirls in them as dazzling as ever. So syrupy sweet, his irises are an utter delight even under the unflattering fluorescent lights of the store. “I said that you’re still as insufferable as you used to be back when we were kids.”
The chuckle you let out now is one of pure amusement. “Is that so?”
“Yep,” he says as he pops the P. “A goddamn pain in my ass since day one.”
You quirk a brow. “Am I really, now?”
“Who else but you?”
It’s always been you.
His words spark a sensation of genuine fondness to swell so deep within your ribcage that you’re somewhat unsure of what to do with it. 
Confused, you push it to the side. Sweep it under the rug and allow it to join the already big pile of all the other unrequited feelings you’ve never dared to express. It’s easier to purposefully keep your eyes squeezed tightly shut.
You can’t see when you’re already blind.
“Any-ways,” you sing-song, extending your hand towards him. “It was good seeing you again. We should grab a coffee sometime, if you’re up for it?”
Instead of replying and shaking your hand, Kiba looks down at your polite gesture and nearly starts to frown at the sight of it.
“What?” you ask as the slight wrinkle between his brows continues to deepen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason.” He hesitates a bit then, swallowing hard. It makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I’ve just missed you, is all. This town fucking sucks ass when my girl’s not in it, ya know? And this whole handshake thing you’re doing is weird.”
Fuck. His honesty, the way he calls you his girl, the too-warm look in his too-warm eyes, fucking everything in that wretched moment makes you start feeling dizzy and causes sweat to gather in a layer so thick right on the flat of your awkwardly twitchy palms, one of which you’re still extending towards him.
What you wouldn’t give for a pair of pockets to stuff them into right now.
Because to be completely honest, you’re outright baffled by the reaction that your body throws at you with full force, now. He’s called you the same two words a million times before, alone or in front of other people — it never really mattered. To him, you were always his girl. It was that simple.
And while that did manage to stir up some emotions within you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge yet even back then, you always managed to play it off like it was no big deal. 
But those feelings have gotten stronger now, despite the distance. They’ve gotten potent. To the point where they’re almost deadly.
And they’re also sneaky, like a shadow grazing your back and breathing right at the spot where your neck connects to your shoulder. They gradually build up with each passing second of silence that hangs between you. They take their time to build up on momentum; like an avalanche or an upcoming tsunami. 
And for a moment, just for the shortest of moments, you swear that Kiba can tell.
But luckily for you, he seems to be oblivious about it, or is at least playing it off like he is. And that’s good! The least he can do after cooking up this mess, is save you the embarrassment that you most certainly don’t wish to live through, thank you very much! 
So you do the next best thing that is currently at your disposal. 
You object to his genuine affection like an idiot. 
“Whaaat? You missing me?” Internally cringing at how high your voice is getting in pitch, you’re almost positive that it must hurt his sensitive wolf hearing. However, much to your dismay, you just can’t fucking stop acting weird for some reason. “Pfsh… Didn’t anyone tell you that lying isn’t nice, Inuzuka?”
For fuck’s sake, you’re acting like he’s holding you at gunpoint.
“Uh… Okay? Hah…?” He gives you a look filled to the brim with doubt, his dark brows faintly scrunching together again. “Well, you wanna know what else ain’t nice?”
All you can do is nod. You’re on the verge of killing yourself right here and now.
“Well, how ‘bout,” he pretends to ponder, rubbing his chin. “Oh! How ‘bout forgetting all about your best friend the moment you start attending some fancy, goody two shoes college halfway across the country. Yeah.”
It’s your turn to offer him your best unimpressed stare this time. Your heart feels like it’s stuck inside your throat, pulse rattling behind your teeth. 
You can’t really tell if he’s joking or not. His tone may be light, sure, but you aren’t able to read him as well as you used to back in the day, and even then it was pretty bad.
He’s gotten… complicated.
Much like your entire friendship has.
You can still remember the almost kiss that never happened back at his place that caused this entire flurry of very, very confusing emotions to start in the first place, or at least present themselves at the surface. Right on the night before you’d packed your bags and ran off to the other side of the country, nearly fully ghosting him on the spot. Your best friend.
“C’mon, man,” you mumble, “don’t be like that.” The guilt is bad enough as it is.
“Like what?” he asks. As is regret.
“Don’t hold a grudge like you always do. I’ve come home loads of times between semesters; during the holidays especially,” you hesitantly retort, frowning. “And besides, it’s not like you weren’t gone all the time either. I saw your posts about all the backpacking and all those roadtrips and whatnot... With Tamaki.” 
The mention of his ex-girlfriend catches him off guard. He blinks, flicking his gaze towards the stacked shelves that suddenly seem to become like the most interesting thing in the world.
Goddammit, you’d almost kissed him while— while—
Still, despite all of that, you wait for him to say something first. Patiently, impatiently; you don’t even know anymore.
“I called,” he lamely offers at long last.
“Well, I texted,” you reply in a heartbeat.
“Barely,” he corrects. “You barely texted.”
Your expression falls somber in an instant. Of course he’d paint you as the bad guy as effortlessly as it is to breathe. It’s what cancers are known for. Especially cancer men.
“Well,” you stumble, shrugging. “What did you want me to do, Kiba? I-I mean, you had a girlfriend.”
“So?” 
He doesn’t even ask how you know that they’ve broken up. But to be fair, when you stop posting couple photos on your stories and feed and suddenly unfollow each other, it’s a pretty obvious tell.
“So? So?” You stare at him, taken aback. “I seriously doubt Tamaki would’ve been happy to see some random chick blowing up your phone constantly.”
“But you’re not some random chick. You were my best friend… you still are,” he says and Jesus on a fucking cross, the way he says the words makes him sound so fucking hurt. 
“I know,” is all you can offer. The weight that suddenly sits on your shoulders makes you want to slump. That, or either curling yourself into a ball.
The feeling only gets worse when he says, “We were supposed to go on those trips together.”
“I know,” you repeat. “I’m sorry.”
He fixes the brim of his cap again. “Are ya, though? Sorry?” 
“Yes! Of course I am!” You scowl so hard that it makes the bridge of your nose scrunch up in annoyance. “If I could do something about it, I would. Trust me.”
He looks at you; really looks at you. Up and down. And then he says, “Then do it.”
“Do what?” you ask dumbly.
“Go on a trip with me,” he explains. “Today.”
“Today?”
“Did I fuckin’ stutter?”
You stare at him. He stares right back, gaze unmoving. 
Fucking hell, he’s actually serious about this.
“But I’m… I’m not really a backpacking kind of girl,” you try meekly. 
Just the mere idea of going somewhere remote with him completely alone is making you feel warm all over. You need to get yourself out of this mess ASAP!
“No worries,” he replies faster than a heartbeat. “We can always go camping.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “Camping?”
“Yeah. For one night,” he says. “I know a really good spot that I go to all the time.”
“But I–” You fumble once more, looking down at the pretty nail polish on your toes. “I don’t even have the proper clothes for it. Like those fancy gym clothes.”
“Heh.” You attempt to ignore the way his chuckle makes your heart want to jump. Especially as he leans in slightly to say, “All you need is a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Oh, or maybe those grey leggings that you always liked to wear and that make your ass look great… Do you still have those?”
He snickers like a child when you punch him in the shoulder.
“And what about the hiking boots, you perv?” you ask, brushing off his lewd comment with heat creeping up your neck. 
“What about ‘em?”
“I don’t have those either.”
“Christ, we’re not going that far, bunny.” He laughs, looking at you in disbelief. “A pair of sneakers will do. You’re talking and planning like I’m gonna take you all the way up to the mountains like I’m some fuckin’ dragon or some shit.”
Your eyes surely must be getting tired from rolling back so much. “Hilarious.”
He waits on your answer with a smile; the one that shows that wretched dimple in his cheek and that makes him look entirely innocent despite the oddly sharp canine teeth. 
Goddammit, you want to kill him because of how cute he is. However, you’re still feeling slightly unsure about the entire thing. 
Evidently reluctant, you ask, “Just one night?”
“Just one night,” he confirms, nodding vehemently.
“And there isn’t going to be a full moon or anything… of that sort?”
He chuckles at the hidden question. “I wouldn’t really be out here shopping for groceries if there was a chance for that to happen, now would I?”
“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” you trail off. You glance up at him, not fully convinced yet. “Do you promise that you’ll take care of everything?”
“‘Course,” he says.
“Say it, then.”
“Say what?”
“That you promise.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously!”
He sighs at how persistful you are. As if he’s any better! “Fine. I promise that I’ll take care of everything.” 
Even you.
Seconds pass. One second, two, three. Staring at him with both of your brows tightly knit together, you can literally feel his excitement transferring itself to you through some invisible link between you which you’ve never quite managed to sever. You suppose his emotions are just that contagious.
“Well?” he inquires, all giddy-like. “What d’you say?”
“Well,” you trail off, kissing your teeth. “I suppose… a single night can’t really hurt?”
“Fuck, yes!” he exclaims and before you know it, you’re being pulled into a bear hug you didn’t even realize how much you’ve missed until you’re caught in it all over again.
Your cheek smushes against his chest. Muscle memory kicks in once more; persuading your arms to move on their own accord, letting them wrap around the familiar place a little above his waist that doesn’t feel as familiar anymore. 
He smells good, like amber, the very heart of a forest and all things wild. It’s earthy, rich, inhumanly strong. It fills your nose, titillates your senses and makes lush greenery and spices start to take root inside your lungs. 
Every breath makes you dizzier and it’s hard to keep your composure as a result; especially when there’s a sequence of powerful thump, thump, thumps pounding right against your ear, now.
His heartbeat is so fast. It’s like he has two.
You’re silent as you listen to the quick rhythm of his heart. And for a change, so is he. Feeling unsure how much time is passing, you continue to cling onto your best friend in the middle of the empty aisle, reawakening all the memories, warming your body with his heat even if it’s hot enough outside to fry an egg on the concrete. 
The soles of your colourful flip-flops will surely stick to the sidewalk when you walk back home to gather your things and explain your unexpected trip to your parents.
“Kiba—” The last part of his name melds into a giggle from the way he squeezes you so tight that your spine pleasantly cracks in all the places that have been feeling way too stiff from the all-nighters you had to pull during exam week, and progresses into a quiet squeal for help by the time he swings you from side to side like an excited boy would his favourite toy.
“Ugh, m’sorry!” He laughs as he releases you, letting you plant your feet back onto the white tiles where they belong. “I just had to get that outta my goddamn system. It’s been building up for years.” 
“It’s okay,” you say, punching his shoulder again, this time playfully. “I always knew you were secretly a softy.”
The tips of his ears turn pink at that. The blush is not strong enough to be noticed by you, but he feels the warmth, feels the subtle prickling along the back of his neck.
Why is it so intense?
It makes his voice drop lower as he mutters a flustered, “As if.”
“What, I really did!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever… But all jokes aside, I really am glad that you’re back,” he admits before you can beat him to it. He pulls back just enough to look you directly in the eyes and smiles. “I really did miss you a whole lot, bunny.”
It’s hard to be vulnerable and admit that you’ve missed him too, so you keep quiet as you plaster your best smile onto your lips again and reach up to jokingly flick the tip of his nose.
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”
Perhaps it’ll distract him from the fact that unlike him, you’re as cowardly as they get.
———
“Hey, I meant to ask… How come you didn’t bring Akamaru with you today?”
Some time after bumping into you in the grocery store, Kiba stills for a second at the innocent question you present before him whilst walking the narrow forest path that is supposed to be leading you to your destination.
In the late afternoon hours, the forest feels like it’s alive. There are birds chirping amongst the branches of the trees above your heads and warm sunlight filters through the leaves. A nearby stream keeps busy by smoothing down the rocks inside it. Everything thrives during the summer.
Even the air smells better; like it’s been thoroughly ridden of your town’s signature scent. But despite the fact that you’ve reached the point of summer when dog days are approaching fast, every inhale you take now feels fresh and satisfyingly cool instead of sticky whilst it travels down your airway.
It’s nice to be able to breathe again. 
And as for Kiba, well, he wishes he could say the same.
Following closely behind you, the young werewolf realizes that he is finding it harder and harder to concentrate the further progress you make on your hike. And while there may be plenty of reasons for his lack of focus at the moment, taking the fact that you’ve still got a lot of catching up to do into account, the main one is also the one that concerns him the most.
You just smell so fucking delicious to him, it’s insane.
He wants to devour you.
And how couldn’t he want that? There are phantom strawberries weaved into your hair and clothes from the matching shampoo and body wash set that you must have showered with before leaving your house. Sunscreen sits on your skin, turning the fruity notes even more summery than they already are.
If he walks close enough, he can even smell the sweat that slowly gathers on the back of your neck as you ascend the gradual slope of the hill that he’s planning to set up camp on.
So yeah, it’s hard to stay away, when all your scent does is lure him in. Hard to keep in-check, when you’re practically calling out to him, inviting him to come closer. He’s missed the way you smell so much.
God, if only he could just shove his nose into the crook of your neck and—
“Kiba?”
“Huh?” 
The man in question blinks now, looking up only to find you standing several meters ahead of him; hands glued to your hips and brow quirked. He didn’t even realize that he’d come to a full stop while thinking about certain scenarios he’d rather not say out loud for the sake of your well-being.
“Sorry,” he says before he awkwardly clears his throat and quickens his pace to reach you again. “What did you say? I kinda got sidetracked for a bit there.”
“By what?” You part your lips wider, huffing whilst trying to gather your breath. He looks like he hasn’t even broken a sweat while you’re literally feeling like your lungs are about to collapse any second now. To make matters even worse, he’s also skilfully avoided the pesky tree root that almost made you trip earlier without even as much as glancing at it. 
“You know what, never mind that,” you say, shaking your head. “I just asked why you didn’t bring Akamaru with us today?”
“Oh, umm… Well, ya know; he’s gotten pretty old by now so he can’t really make the trek as effortlessly as he used to,” he starts to explain and you don’t miss the hint of melancholy that overcomes his voice ever so slightly now. “Nowadays I just leave him at my mom’s whenever I go hiking.”
“Oh,” you mutter while wrapping your fingers around the straps of your old backpack which you’ve dug up from the back of your sibling’s closet. Your grip tightens a bit as you add, “I’m sorry about that. I know how much you care about that dog.”
“I mean, it’s not like he’s dead or anything, hah,” he says, his chuckle kind of bitter. “He’s just a senior dog now, doing senior things. Nothing wrong with that, don’tcha think?”
“True,” you mumble, feeling guilty that you’d even asked the question in the first place. I mean, of course his puppy would be old by now. He's had him ever since he was seven, for crying out loud!
“So, anyway,” you say as you turn around to continue your way up the hill you’re practically yearning to reach the top of now, “you just go hiking alone, then? Since Akamaru stays at your mom’s?”
“Mostly, yeah,” he replies as he follows suit. You try not to pay attention to how attentive you are to his presence all of a sudden. “Before, it was usually just me and Tam, but now that—”
You pretend not to notice the way he cuts himself off mid-sentence the moment he accidentally mentions his ex-girlfriend’s name. Pretend that hearing it doesn’t make your chest feel a bit too tight all of a sudden, and not from lack of air or your rather poorly prowess in physical fitness.
“Uh,” he fumbles.
“Don’t you get scared, though?” you continue as if nothing has happened, helping him out. “Hiking all alone?”
If he’s grateful for your assistance, he doesn’t show it, because now he sounds genuinely confused as he says, “What is there to be scared of, exactly?”
His question makes you come to an abrupt stop. You turn your head to the side so that you can look at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘what is there to be scared of’? It’s a forest, Kiba.”
“So?” he replies, sounding even more confused.
“Are you being for real right now?” The blatantly puzzled look that settles onto his face puzzles you just as greatly in return, now. 
Especially when he says, “I’m not entirely sure how you want me to answer that.”
“Well, I don’t know,” you say. “What if there’s, like… a bear, or something?”
He snorts at your idea, making you feel like you’re stupid for even suggesting a thing like that in the first place. 
“What?” you fuss, glaring at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, it’s just that there aren’t any bears in these woods, dummy,” he answers, the last word kind despite if it’s usually meant as something derogatory.
You scoff, rolling your eyes for the millionth time today. “And how would you know that, oh, wise, all-knowing one?”
Kiba pauses as he smirks, rather resting his gaze onto a spot somewhere amongst the tree line instead of you. You catch the slight flutter of a muscle in his cheek as he grits his teeth and exhales.
His voice is low, but confident as he finally says, “Because around these parts, sweetheart, I’m the biggest predator. And luckily for us, bears tend to keep to themselves instead of picking fights with something that is much, much bigger than them.”
You’re not entirely sure if you want to know how big he can actually get, nor how far he’s actually able to see with those wolf eyes of his as he keeps on looking off into the greenery. His expression is one of the most complacent ones you’ve seen in a long while. 
Still, you manage just enough bravery to swallow the thick saliva that’s now started to gather inside your mouth so that you can ask, “So you’re saying that you can take a bear in a fight? Like an actual living, breathing bear?”
“I mean,” he drawls, shrugging in such a nonchalant way that it only pisses you off further, “it wouldn’t be the first time.”
Your eyes open wide as your heart drops to your fucking ass. “What?! Are you serious?”
“No, I’m joking.”
Dead silence meets him from your side at his bad take on a prank. And Kiba — foolish, brainless Kiba — can’t help but start laughing at the look of pure, unhinged fury that starts to twist your features now. It makes your nostrils outright flare like a bull’s that’s been irked for far too long.
He gets startled when you start stomping towards him, though.
“I’m sorry—” He begins walking backwards to cause more distance between himself and the wrath that is you, laughter still escaping his lips. “I didn’t think that you’d actually—”
You’re too angry at him to notice how good his balance actually is. He doesn’t trip once despite the fact that he’s blindly walking backwards on uneven terrain; much less loses his footing or actually falls over.
His abnormally honed sense of stability only drives you more mad. By the time you finally catch up to him and shove him by pressing both hands against his chest, the startled little yelp he lets out in response is barely satisfying.
“Hey, don’t do that; I’ll fall!”
“Good, because that’s what I was hoping for!”
“Oh, c’mon… Hey!” He comes to a stop, grabbing you by the wrist when you try to strike him for a second time. “I told you I was sorry, didn’t I?”
“Sorry? Sorry? Oh, go fuck yourself, you absolute dick,” you snap at his half-assed apology and are practically gritting your teeth whilst trying not to pay mind to how his touch practically sears your skin. “I hope a bear actually does come into these woods just so it can maul you into a million tiny little pieces!”
“Aha… I’d like to see it try.” His eyes burn like a furnace when he says that. It’s even worse when he yanks on your wrist and pulls you closer, as if to prove a point.
The fire within subdues your own flames in an instant. It makes you lose your edge.
“You— You— Ugh!” The slight upturn of your nose almost comes across as snobbish as you whip your head away from him in one sharp movement and shove him again with your free hand, causing his grip to break free, but not because you want it to. “Go away.”
Watching you with profound amusement, Kiba thinks all your worrying is to die for.
Nothing’s really changed, now has it?
And as a result, the smile in his voice is almost unbearably audible as he hurries after you the moment you start walking again. Your pace has become much faster than it was before, but he has no trouble whatsoever in catching up. 
He’s right behind you as he says, “I was just fucking with you a lil’ bit, can you blame me?” 
“Oh, yeah,” you retort coldly, still not looking at him. “I most definitely can.”
“Christ, don’t be like that, bunny,” he says, nudging you in the shoulder with the help of his palm. 
The touch, mostly platonic and what you’d consider meant to be purely reassuring in nature, nevertheless causes your entire body to end up becoming overly tense instead. This is the second time that goosebumps outright tighten your skin as his fingers slide down and graze your shoulder blade, as well as one of the backpack’s straps before letting go. 
It’s hard to walk the path like a normal person, when every time he touches you feels like he’s leaving you burning in his wake.
“Are we cool now?” he asks when you don’t bother replying. You simply can’t.
“No, we’re not ‘cool’, you moron. Fuck you,” you answer when he nudges you for a second time, still fuming. Better yet, you’re the exact opposite from cool.
“Mm,” he hums, seemingly deep in thought. You think that he’s finally going to leave you alone, however, much to your dismay, not even a minute of quiet passes before he’s opening his mouth again, asking, “Wanna tell me why you’re so mad?”
“Gee, I wonder; maybe because you’ve got me losing my shit in the middle of the goddamn woods?” You scowl at him before pointing your gaze back onto the ground so that you can avoid falling onto your ass at the worst moment. “I mean honestly, how stupid can you get to even ask me that?”
“Well—”
“Don’t answer that!”
“Okay. Okay.” Kiba forces himself to stop the slight, upward curl of his lips at your agitated tone. This is not a laughing matter; or at least that is what he keeps telling himself for your sake. “What do you want me to do, then?”
“I want you to go away,” you repeat, exasperated at how he’s obviously fighting every urge to laugh at your bitter attitude. 
As is expected, he pays you no mind and instead keeps following after you like he’s a dog tied to a leash that your hand holds. You can hear his footsteps trailing closely behind. “And where am I supposed to go, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, frowning. “Just go!”
“But I don’t wanna.”
“Well, I don’t give a shit.”
“Well, I don’t give a shit that you don’t give a shit.”
“Fine!” You huff, a certain kind of tightness in your expression when you look at him. “Fine. I’ll go, then!”
“And where are you gonna go, huh? There isn’t a single inch of these woods that I don’t know like the back of my hand.” He looks at you, his eyes glimmering with a subtle yellow shade instead of their usual brown. “I’ll just track you down like I always do.”
With the expectant, borderline mischievous look he dares you with now, he reminds you of an overexcited puppy. 
Damn him. You’re not sure if you’re irked or envious by how unpredictable and free-spirited he is.
It only makes you angrier.
“I don’t know, Kiba,” you fuss, looking away and pinching the bridge of your nose to save yourself from getting flustered all over again. “Probably somewhere far away from you, because to be completely honest, you’re annoying the utter, living crap outta me right now, okay?”
He stares at you for a couple of seconds, paying mind to the way your voice cracks midway. You’re clearly upset, frustrated, perhaps even overwhelmed by the way he keeps one-upping you with every sentence.
It prompts him to walk closer to where you stand. To lean into your space, carefully reach out and pry your hands away from your face so that he can give you that same look that he’d given you all those years ago when he’d been sick and you were swinging by his house every single day after school. 
The one that’s completely, utterly riddled with an emotion you cannot bring yourself to understand even to this day.
“God, what do you want now?” you ask, your gaze still persistently avoidant.
“I want to apologize,” he says, this time completely serious. When you look up, he continues, “I know that I can be… a lot to handle at times, and—” 
You purse your lips, mumbling under your breath, “Yeah, well, a lot is an understatement when it comes to you.”
He chuckles, huffing a laugh. “Okay, smartass; shush. I wasn’t done talkin’ yet.”
You glower at the way he shushes you, but otherwise keep silent.
“Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. I also know that it drives you up the wall when I’m a lot, so… yeah. I’ll tone it down, but you also gotta stop worrying so damn much, okay? It ain’t good for ya.”
“What do you mean by that?” you ask.
“What I mean is that you’re just always actin’ so goddamn uptight, bunny; I can sense it! So just… try and relax for once, yeah? Allow yourself to enjoy something that’s a lil’ bit spontaneous. Go fuckin’ crazy, go wild; all that good shit, ya know?” he says, and all of a sudden he’s resting both big palms on your shoulders, shaking you gently as if trying to rid you of your nerves. “Deal?”
“I wasn’t… worrying.” Your heartbeat quickens at the doubtful look he gives you next. “But yeah. Yeah, okay. Deal. Going crazy, going wild; woo…”
You’re soap-sliver thin. Transparent. Ever the complicator. That ‘woo’ was pitiful.
But it’s a start.
“Attagirl, there she is,” he says as he ruffles your hair and fixes his backpack back into place. It encourages you to do the same with your own while he slips by you and walks a couple steps ahead, letting you breathe again. “Now let’s go. We’re almost there, but I wanna get the tent ready before the sun gets the chance to set.”
“Tent?” you mumble, following after him. “As in… singular?”
“Yeah?” This time it’s his turn to look at you over his shoulder. “What, did you think that I was gonna carry two of ‘em on my back? We’re sharing; it’s easier.”
Thump, thump, thump!
“Oh. Um.” You swallow hard as you rub the spot where your heart lies with a sweaty hand. “Okay.”
He’s quiet for a second. And then he asks, “Does that make you uncomfortable…? ‘Cause at the end of the day, I can always sleep outside. I just thought it’d be—”
“No, we’re good,” you say, cutting him off. “I don’t mind.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t slept together before,” you say. And nearly choke on your own words. “Wait! Wait, I-I meant like, you know, like back when we were younger.”
Thump, thump, thump, thump!
God, you’re thankful that he’s walking ahead of you so that he can’t see you experiencing your meltdown.
Kiba seems to ignore your little hiccup, because all he says now is, “Positive?”
You take a deep breath. Exhale. Clear your head just enough to ask, “What’s with all the questions all of a sudden…?”
“Nothin’,” he mumbles, his posture straight. “I just wanna make sure you’re cool with it.”
“Yeah, well all it’s doing is making me feel nervous again.”
“Oh, shit; okay, okay!” He turns to look at you again, his eyes wide. “We’re relaxing, we’re chilling… Look at the pretty nature, look at the trees! So zen, right? Real ‘live, laugh, love’ type of shit right here, yes, ma’am!”
Eventually, his rambling makes timid laughter echo throughout the forest.
What an idiot.
———
Ever since you’ve set up camp and settled on the small clearing on top of the hill, you’ve learned three things.
One, the stars are a beautiful sight that stretches far and beyond the inky sky when there’s not as much light pollution present to dim them out. 
Two, your best friend is a master when it comes to putting up a tent and starting a campfire.
And three, he can also whip up some really, I mean really mean s’mores.
That last one is why you’re practically humming whilst you sit by the fire that night; dressed in your favourite hoodie and continuously licking droplets of melted chocolate off your fingertips with utmost delight.
With his dark irises adorned with dancing orange flames, Kiba’s eyes can best be described as blazing when he looks up at you.
“Whath?” you mumble, mouth full of marshmallows.
“Easy there, tiger,” he taunts. “Leave some for the rest of us, will ya?”
“Leave me alone,” you answer just as lightheartedly when you swallow. Finally willing yourself to relax, your voice sounds muffled because of how you pop the tip of your thumb out of your overly-sweet mouth, “As if you didn’t eat like six of them already.”
“I ate six ‘cause I’m a big fella with an even bigger appetite,” he counters immediately. “What’s your excuse?”
“Well, if you must know,” you brush him off with a rather sassy flick of the wrist. “I’m ovulating right now and it makes me hungrier than usual.”
Just as you’ve expected, Kiba splutters and nearly drops the bottle he’d just been drinking water out of. A series of coughing and choking noises ensue that make it very hard to hide your satisfaction.
By the time he manages to collect himself, you’re still musing. “You okay there, Inuzuka?”
“Christ,” he says, his voice so hoarse that it forces him to clear his throat for a second time around. 
“What?”
“Nothing.” He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing like always. “It’s just that you don’t have to be so upfront about it.”
“Um, okay…? I was just joking, you know... Didn’t think you’d take it as seriously as you did.” Your upper lip quivers as you let out a quiet, almost self-deprecating laugh at the look of guardedness that crosses his face when you speak the words. 
It’s almost like he’s conflicted about how to act around you all of a sudden. 
And it’s also the reason why you can’t help but ask, “What’s the big deal, though? Does it gross you out or something?”
“No. Gosh, no,” he immediately says and for a second you swear that there’s a blush tinging his already sun-kissed cheeks when he turns to look at the fire instead of you. 
He seems to be struggling with finding the right thing to say as he runs his hands up and down his knees and brings them closer to his chest. “You know I’m not like that. It’s just that… well, I don’t wanna think about it, is all. About you, in that kind of way, I mean.”
He can’t risk it because he can still remember the scent of it from way back when he was seventeen. Can still remember how dangerously good it smelled it to him.
God, you were so alluring to him. You still are.
“Oh.” Ouch. You don’t realize that you take his words the wrong way, so they sting you in the place where your heart supposedly lies. Nevertheless, you still manage to smile like the brave girl you’re trying to be as you say, “Well, luckily for you; you won’t have to, because I haven’t ovulated in like three years or so, hah.”
He perks up as his eyes shift back to you. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”
You shake your head, wishing to move on from the conversation but this time he strangely persists, pestering you to give him an answer even if he’d been the one acting weird about it earlier.
So you finally oblige, “Well, uh, I’m on birth control.”
He tilts his head to the side like a dog. “Why?”
Your brow furrows. “What do you mean ‘why’?”
He looks at you like you’re dumb. “Why are you on birth control?”
“Because I don’t want to get pregnant while having sex…?” you trail off. “Isn’t that supposed to be obvious?”
His eyes widen, dark brows shooting up so high that they could touch his hairline. “You’re fucking someone?”
Now is your turn to be taken aback. “I-I mean… I used to, yeah.”
Displeasure turns Kiba’s stomach into a pit of despair. He realizes that he’s not very fond of the idea of someone touching you like that. “When? And who?”
“I’m not telling you that!”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to talk to you about my sex life!”
“Why not?” he repeats, still oddly intrigued, almost nosy. “I can tell you all ‘bout mine if you tell me ‘bout yours.”
“Hell no.” You whip your head forward, glaring into the fire whilst grabbing the nearby stick that you used to roast — or should you say burn — your marshmallows with before. Poking the embers with it, the frown that’s on your lips only deepens now as you watch the sparks dance up into the night sky. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass on listening to you talk about all your failed sexual conquests.”
He chuckles with what you think is amusement, but the sound is oddly strained. “What makes you think that they’re failed ones?”
You purse your lips. “Well, you’ve broken up with Tamaki, didn’t you?”
“I broke up with Tam for other reasons,” he mutters, his smile wavering for a slight second. “The sex had nothin’ to do with it.”
You don’t want to tread these waters and besides, it’s better to keep things light. So you sit straighter as you stick your tongue out at him, taunting, “Or maybe it’s just your insanely small dick that’s to blame, did you ever think about that?” 
“Oh, yeah, bet. It’s definitely small, all right.” Kiba huffs a laugh at your jab. And then he leans slightly closer; not too close, but just enough for the proximity to feel slightly more intimate than platonic. 
His pupils are so big that they remind you of two vortexes as he whispers, “Wanna take a look just to make sure?”
Sinful thrill erupts within your gut at the closeness and his rather sly comment. It shakes you to your core even if you don’t want it to. So with your train of thought becoming all fucked up and wacky all of a sudden, you turn away from facing him, feeling the heat from the fire kiss your already much too-warm cheeks.
With your voice merely above a murmur, you sound like you’re almost out of breath as you utter, “You’re so gross.”
“Eh,” he shrugs and crosses his arms behind his head as he pushes further back against the log you’re both leaning against with the provided comfort of your backpacks. “You’re used to it.”
“What I am,” you say, side-eyeing him, “is traumatized.”
“Oh, boohoo.” He pretends to pout, closing his eyes, “Big bad Kiba keeps on bullying me. Poor, poor me.”
You giggle, poking the embers again. “Remember back when Sasuke used to bully you in elementary?”
“Tsch.” You watch as he clicks his tongue, his eyes still closed. “That Uchiha twink definitely did not bully me.”
“He kept on saying how your teeth were too big to properly fit inside your mouth.”
“Mhmmm,” Kiba drawls, crossing one ankle over the other. His eyelids flutter open slightly, the orange glow from the fire further complimenting his tan skin and dark hair. “And then, if memory serves right, I bit him for it.”
“And then you bit him for it, yes,” you echo, stifling another giggle. It makes your shoulders shake as you tug on the sleeves of your oversized hoodie. “Oh my gosh, remember how pissed Mr. Umino got at you for that?”
“I think I got like two weeks of detention for it,” he drawls. “It was worth it though... I never liked Sasuke all that much for some reason.”
“No, I think it was more like three weeks than it was two? Because I remember having to walk back home from school all alone every day and thinking how it was taking ages.”
“Yeah?” He turns slightly so that he can look at you from the corner of his eye. “You actually remember that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask.
“Uh,” he blinks, his expression turning blank. “‘Cause instead of paying attention to the pain and suffering of your best friend, you were probably way too busy actin’ annoyingly obsessed with Sasuke, just like every other girl was doing in our year?”
“What?” Your eyebrows knit together at this newly-acquired information. “I wasn’t obsessed with him!”
Kiba turns to give you a look that outright spells bullshit.
“Come on,” you glance at him, head hanging low. “Don’t gimme that look.”
“What look?” he answers, still giving you that exact look.
“The one that makes me feel like I’m lying.”
The corners of his lips quirk upward. “But you are lying.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Ugh.” You scoff, playing with the strings on your hoodie. “Fine, maybe I did have a little crush on him. You can’t really blame me for it, though! Sasuke was, like… devastatingly pretty, okay?”
“So that’s your type, huh?” he asks, his foot dancing along the rhythm of a silent song you probably don’t know. “Pretty boys? Sorry, devastatingly pretty boys?”
“I don’t have a type,” you counter, ignoring his jab.
“Sure you do.”
“I seriously don’t.”
“Everyone has a type, though.”
“Not me.”
Kiba falls silent for a moment as he stares into the fire. You pass the time by watching the flames dance across his cheekbones; along the dangerously sharp line that is his jaw. His eyelashes are thick and long, and the curve of his nose is delicate and slightly upturned at the end.
He looks like he’s still deep in thought by the time he finally says, “Well, maybe you just haven’t found it yet. Your type, I mean.”
“Yeah,” you reply, unable to stop staring at his side profile. “Maybe.”
Or maybe, just maybe, your type is right in front of your nose.
———
What you also learn after stomping out the campfire and clambering inside the tent that night, is that even though you’ve slept in the same bed countless of times before, the entire ordeal is much different now that your best friend has gotten bigger.
Because instead of laying beside you like he used to do back in the day when you were kids, Kiba somehow ends up fully surrounding you this time.
He’s everywhere all at once, his presence and that warm amber scent filling every last inch of the small tent you’re both currently residing in. Being so close to him, practically wrapped in his embrace and with your back firmly pressed against his chest, feels oddly familiar even if it’s currently being executed for the sole purpose of keeping you warm throughout the night.
But it’s not quite the same, now that you’re adults, now is it? 
It’s almost… inappropriate. In some way at least.
“Should’ve brought warmer clothes with ya, bunny,” he mumbles at some point, his face so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath brushing the back of your neck. “You’re practically shiverin’.”
His drawl — even more prominent now that you think he’s half-asleep — makes your blood want to boil, and not out of anger. He talks to you like he’s trying to get into your panties, but you know that that’s not the case. 
He’s made it pretty fucking clear that he wants nothing to do with you with the whole ‘being too upfront’ situation earlier, after all.
So you take a deep breath to calm yourself — and hopefully whisk the confusing thoughts away that are doing more harm than good — before you murmur, “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”
He chuckles as he gives your stomach a single stroke, the sound lazy and laid-back just like the movement is. “Mm… I believe it’s mine.”
“No shit.” You sigh as you curl yourself tighter and shift even closer to his chest that is providing you with all this heavenly warmth you simply can’t get enough of. “God, I can’t believe that I’ve let you talk me into going camping in just my leggings and an old hoodie… I knew I couldn’t trust you.”
“Hey, now,” he objects, “you can trust me. I just forgot that regular humans can’t handle the cold as well as I can.”
“If I could trust you, I wouldn’t be freezing my ass off in the middle of the woods right now, Kiba!” You whine, annoyed. “Ugh, you’re always so reckless and never stop to think things through. Nothing’s changed.”
“That’s fair, I suppose,” he mutters into the dark, lips a firm line of seriousness. He always finds you so cute whenever you get pissy and say his name like that, but something with your sentence doesn’t sit right with him this time. “But I’m trying to fix it, aren’t I?”
“Well, so far you’re not doing that good of a job,” you pout in answer. “I’m still cold.”
Silence settles between you for a couple of moments. The only sound you can hear, or should you rather say feel, is the strong beating of his heart as it drums against your spine.
It turns a bit erratic by the time he says, “I’ve got an idea.”
You roll over to look at him. “What kind of idea?”
“Hear me out,” he says. “How about you take off your—”
Nearly choking on your own saliva, you try to ignore the way his quickening pulse makes your tummy tighten as you rush to cut him off with a high-pitched, “No!”
“Just hear me out, will ya?” Kiba’s voice fades into nothing as he rests his chin on the top of your head. He’s mumbling as he says, “If you get undressed, it’ll be easier to—”
“Nope! Nope, nope, nope,” you squeak out, quickly shaking your head, making him pull back slightly. “Absolutely not.”
“But you didn’t even let me finish!”
“And I don’t need to, because I know exactly where this is going,” you chide, brow furrowing so prominently that there’s a small v etching itself into your forehead, now. “I am not getting naked with you under the pretense of sharing body heat.”
No way in hell are you about to fall for one of his jokes again. They just leave you hanging in the end, looking desperate.
“Oh, c’mon; why not?” he says, voice so genuinely curious that it almost makes him sound innocent and free from any intent to scheme whatsoever. His fingers dig deeper into your hoodie as he adds, “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t already seen all your bits and pieces before.”
You push away from him so that you can face him instead, supporting yourself with the help of your palms. The inside of the tent is dark, so dark that you can barely see the outline of him, but you just know that he’s smiling; the little shit.
“Those bits and pieces, as you’ve so kindly called them, have changed a lot since we’ve last shared a kiddie pool, Ki,” you mumble, feeling heat growing up your neck and down your middle. It takes all the effort in the world to not let it slip to that tingly place between your legs, especially because there’s a calm rumble of a laugh thundering inside his chest, now.
“It’ll warm you up faster,” he pushes. “That’s all I want, I swear.”
“No thanks,” you refuse, fighting the urge to not shrivel up and simply die from embarrassment. “I’m perfectly content with waiting for your wolfy heat to reach me through the many, many layers of our clothes.”
“You sure?” he asks. “‘Cause it’s gonna be a long night.”
“Yep.”
“Absolutely sure?”
“Yes!” You squeeze his arm, digging your nails into his dark green hoodie as if in warning before you turn your back towards him again and shuffle closer. “Now shut up and go to sleep already.”
“‘Kay,” he relents at long last, sighing. “Suit yourself.”
“I sure plan to, thank you very much!”
“Aha.”
He’s uncharacteristically quiet as he settles back into the folds of your unzipped sleeping bags that you’ve overlapped just so that you can be conjoined together into a mess of limbs. And as a result, the silence to follow is so heavy. It succeeds in making you jittery as hell, as if the chill didn’t help with that already.
“Stop moving around so much, I’m tryin’ to sleep,” he fusses by the time it’s your third time switching positions and pushing further up against him. Unlike before, he sounds like he’s actually agitated now.
“I can’t help it if I’m cold,” you whine, rubbing your feet against his calves. 
The feeling of your socks gaining friction against his sweatpants is nice for you from the way it steadily creates warmth, however for Kiba it’s an annoyance that seemingly has no end.
It’s the reason as to why his tone comes across as an irked hiss when he says, “Yeah, well, that’s not my problem, now is it?” 
“But it is,” you reply, still running the soles of your feet up and down his legs. “You were the one who kept on saying that a hoodie would be just fine to wear.”
“No, I– Can you stop doing that already?!” He grunts, poking you in the side and causing you to jump. “You know damn well how much the whole feet thing pisses me off.”
“Well, wanna know what pisses me off?”
“What?”
“Being so cold that my teeth are practically chattering.”
“All right, that’s it.”
Your breathing staggers in the back of your throat as you watch him sit up so that he can start taking his hoodie off. He reaches for the back of it, strong back flexing as he pulls it over his head and throws it into one corner that’s to your left.
The white t-shirt he wears underneath gets tugged along, riding up his spine slightly. And goddammit, it’s hard not to ogle at him; hard not to leer at all the tight, defined lines of muscle paired with the contrasting smoothness of tan skin, at how his dark hair tickles the nape of his neck now that it’s all ruffled. 
But maybe if you’re sneaky with it, he won’t be able to tell? And besides, it’s pretty dark anyway and—
“Stop staring,” he says like he’s reading your mind. “There’s drool drippin’ at the corner of your mouth already.”
You gulp in response to being caught by his exceptional night vision. The sound is loud and embarrassing as it travels down your throat, at least that’s what you’re thinking. 
“I wasn’t— God, you’re so pretentious,” you manage to let out. “I’m just trying to figure out what you’re doing, you prick.”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting undressed,” he replies casually as he repeats the same set of movements and takes his T-shirt off as well. “And judging by how much you’re complaining about the cold, I suggest you do the same before you freeze to death.”
You bite into the inside of your cheek to stop your upper lip from trembling with stress. “I already told you that I’m not doing that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
Something changes inside him at your denial. It makes him sound more tense as he says, “Can you please stop making a fuss for once and just do it?”
“No.”
“C’mon.”
“No, Kiba.”
“Fine, then freeze,” he quips, suddenly snappier than usual. His blood feels like it’s simmering. Wait, has it always been this hot in here?
Upset, cold and sticky, flashes throughout your chest at his seemingly careless words. “Okay, maybe I will.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!”
You glare at each other, fire and ice present in a single look.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says, trying to tame the persistent flutter of a muscle in his cheek that just won’t go away now. “Why do you gotta be so stubborn all the time? It’s like you’re actively searching for reasons to fight with me every chance you get.”
“That’s not true. You just don’t like it when I don’t comply with what you want,” you spit back, narrowing your eyes. “You’re the stubborn one.”
Another beat of silence passes between you and he uses it to inhale a deep breath and exhale it out just as slowly. It looks like he’s trying to calm himself, fighting every urge not to snap at you again.
“I’m just looking out for you,” he counters finally, his features unbearably tight. “I want what’s best for you, that’s all.”
“Oh, please.” You force out a laugh that doesn’t come from the heart. “As if you know what’s best for me.”
“And you do?” He looks at you, brows raised in challenge. “‘Cause how the hell is getting sick just because you’re too big of a pussy to take your shirt off the thing that’s best for you?”
Your toes start to curl with irritation under the layer of the sleeping bag you’re still tucked into. “I’d rather be a pussy any day, than an obsessively controlling alpha asshole who can’t take a no for an answer.” 
“Oh, that’s rich, coming from the control freak herself,” he says, nearly copying the same bitter laugh you’ve let out earlier. “You’re talking as if you don’t start acting batshit crazy whenever a single thing doesn’t go the way you imagined it to go.”
How on earth did this turn into an actual argument so out of the blue? Is he actually that irritated that you refuse to undress? Or is there something else to blame for all of this?
Either way, things are escalating fast.
Your face feels hot from all the mixed emotions you’re experiencing as you draw your blade and stick it into the place where you know it hurts him the most because he’s done the same to you, “I might be a control freak… You’re just a freak.” 
“You wanna talk to me about being a freak?” He laughs again, quieter this time but the sound is cold and sharp as ice. “‘Cause how can you call me that, if back when I met you, no one could even stand the sight of you!” 
He sucks in one breath, two, three before he continues, unable to stop, “No one could even talk to you. Do you remember that? Not until I stepped in, at least. So call me a freak all you want if it makes you feel any better, princess, but at the end of the day, I was still the one who put you out there while all you did was feel sorry for yourself.”
“You didn’t do shit!” The anger that drops upon your unsuspecting mind is like a thick, red fog. It makes your voice rise higher as you say, “All you’ve been doing for all these years, is breathing down my neck!”
“It’s not like I fucking chose to do that, goddammit!” Kiba snaps, voice suddenly gruff, heart pounding. His pulse feels like it’s racketing behind his teeth as he grits them so hard it makes his jaw hurt. “I mean, do you actually think that I want to spend the rest of my life wondering where the fuck you are and what you’re doing, when you can’t even put in the effort to text me back? Do you think that I want to keep being your friend, when you don’t even—”
“I didn’t ask you to!” You push forward, getting all up into his face as hurt sears the inside of your chest, making it heavy. “I didn’t ask you to be my friend, I didn’t ask you to keep trying to stay in touch, I didn’t ask you to keep monitoring me like some fucking psycho! I didn’t ask you to do any of those things.”
“You not asking for it is not the fucking issue, all right!” His face contorts into a look of prominent displeasure, the bridge of his nose scrunching. It’s clear how much you’re pissing him off; it’s making him say things he otherwise wouldn’t.
“Then tell me what the issue is!” You inhale, your own breathing quick and unfulfilling from how emotional you’re getting. It feels like you can’t suck enough air into your lungs no matter how hard you try. “Enlighten me, Kiba, please! Because quite frankly, I have no freaking clue what you’re going on about right now.”
“The issue,” he finally says, eyes bleary with fury and disdain, “is that I’m stuck with you. And guess what, you get to leave. I can’t. You get to fuck off to the other side of the goddamn country completely unfazed after every summer, and I can’t despite trying, because I’m feeling every mile of distance that separates me from you and it makes me fucking sick!” 
The words are like a waterfall to spill from his mouth, he can’t stop them. “You get to meet new people, you get to befriend them and sleep with them and love them, all while every. Single. One of my relationships falls apart because I’m stuck thinking about you, and only you. I mean Jesus fucking Christ, I’m thinking about you whenever I go to sleep, when I go to the gym, when I go to work… I was even thinking about you every time I fucked my girlfriend, who is now my ex, thanks to you!”
He ceases, breathing hard through his nose now, opening his mouth to say something, then thinking better of it.
Meanwhile, every single muscle in your body goes weak, almost numb. His stare is feverish and remains glued to your face; it makes you feel like you’ll drop dead any second now despite the fact that your stomach is doing cartwheels and high-pitched white noise progressively fills your ears. 
If there wasn’t a humongous lump jammed inside your throat, you’d perhaps be able to tell how dry your mouth has turned all of a sudden. 
But you don’t. So it’s no wonder why your voice cracks as you at long last look at your childhood best friend, the person you’ve always trusted the most, and ask, “So, you’re in love with me? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Hah,” he snorts, the sound completely unenthusiastic. “I wish it was that simple.” 
“Then what else is there?”
“I’m bonded to ya, sweetheart.” His stare hardens. “You’re my mate. Always have been, always will be. Congrats.”
Thump, thump, thump!
“Mate?” Your heart nearly breaks your ribcage in half from how intensely it starts to pound at the word. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means… It means that I’ve longed for you ever since the first day I saw you, okay? God.” He groans, running his hand down his cheek, then the side of his neck. His skin has become so slick with sweat that it causes his fingers to glide. “And it means that I’ll still long for you no matter what you do, or how far away you go, or who you end up with... You’re a part of me. And I can’t do shit about it.”
His words make your head swim. It’s hard to concentrate because of it, the rising nausea only making things worse, but you still manage enough willpower to ask, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t—...” He inhales a long breath again, only one this time. And pulls a face you can’t read. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured by it… Like you were obligated to be with me or something, just ‘cause I was having a bad time.”
“So instead you decided to be my friend for all these years? So that I could have my chance at freedom and you’d still have a reason to be near me?” Disappointment flashes throughout your brain like lightning. You feel played. “Does that mean that our entire friendship was, like… just some ploy to help you get closer to me or whatever?”
“Fuck no.” His shoulders slump as he practically succumbs to the weight of his own body. The world feels like it’s spinning all of a sudden. “The bond had nothing to do with that; well, maybe at the start, but definitely not afterwards. I was your friend because you were actually cool to hang out with, despite being kind of a dork. Even if you were my mate, you were still smart, and nice, and… and…”
And it’s only then, when you close the gap between yourself and him to catch him, that you realize how high his body temperature has gotten. How his skin feels like it’s blazing underneath the tips of your fingers when you press your hand to his chest on pure instinct. How the blush that tints his cheeks is stark red; intense enough to even reach the tips of his ears and the base of his neck.
His blood has always run hot, you know that. But never like this.
Never like this.
It’s even worse than back when he was ‘sick’.
“Shit… Are you feeling okay? You’re burning up all of a sudden. Like, even more than usual.” Your voice trembles on the words as you speak, low and worried. It’s like the entire argument is forgotten in a blink of an eye just because you’re sensing that something isn’t right with him.
“No.” Much to your surprise, Kiba gives you a hard smile when you look up into his face. It’s covered with a thick coat of sweat again even if he had wiped it away just minutes before. “I’m not okay.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think…” He pauses, letting out a pained sound that’s almost like a mix between a grunt and a whimper when you cup his face with your hands. “I think that I’m slipping into rut.”
“Rut?” You blink when he takes your hands into his own and hurriedly pries them away from his face, your eyelashes batting against your cheeks. The sudden rush of adrenaline that courses your veins when he starts to let you go makes you feel like you’re hollow inside.
So you cling onto his hands. If anything, they’re keeping you warm.
He breathes in again, every breath strained. “You need to stop touching me. It’s making it worse.”
Your brain feels like it’s turned to mush all of a sudden. All you can do is do as he says and whisper, “Oh. Y-yes, okay. Okay.”
“Fuck.” He scrubs his hand over his face for what must be the third time now, continuously wiping the liquid salt that just won’t stop oozing out of his pores. “Fuck. This is so fucked.”
Your eyes feel like they’re bulging from how concerned you are. His constant swearing isn’t helping the situation. “What is?”
“This whole night. Everything.” He looks away, clearly ashamed. Parts his lips so that he can breathe through his mouth instead of his nose, but it just makes him taste you on the flat of his tongue instead. Drool seeps as a result. “I wasn’t even supposed to go into rut for the next couple of weeks at least, maybe even a month from now... I think your scent might have triggered it.” 
After all, you’re sweet as summer honey. Honey made just for him.
And being this sweet, it’s no wonder that he’d subconsciously lured you out into the forest and away from other people under the pretense of catching up. No wonder that he had pinned you down with a single look in the middle of a grocery store as soon as you showed even the slightest hint of requited feelings. That he’d been getting impatient, had been getting jealous at the mention of other partners, had even nearly tried manipulating you into getting naked with him — something he’d never thought he’d sink so low to, for fuck’s sake.
All while the rut just stacked one symptom on top of the other.
This entire trip, every single one of his actions, every word, every look had been mere preying. Mere circling whilst getting ready to go in for the kill. After all, you’ve been gone for years, leaving him stranded. Catching a mere whiff of your scent — of his mate’s scent — after such a long time had been like an awakening for the beast within; a push for it to take over.
And that beast is ready to come out now. It’ll claw a way out of him if need be. He didn’t even realize it until now. 
Utterly blinded by instinct, he’d been played for a fool by his own psyche.
“Kiba?” you whisper his name cautiously, pupils still big as saucers as you repeat, “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” He exhales shakily, ignoring your question. “I-I need to get away from you before I—”
“What? You can’t leave me here! What the fuck,” you stammer out, eyes opening even wider in the dark. Ignoring his warnings, you clutch onto him again because he’s simply your only pillar right now. Rut or no rut. Whatever that means.
“Well, I can’t stay here,” he snaps in answer and now you can hear the mumble appearing between each word. His already humanly-questionable incisors are growing elongated now, turning into fangs and changing his pattern of speech. “You have no fucking idea how aggressive I get if I don’t get what I want during a rut; what you saw earlier wasn’t even the half of it. And I can’t... I won’t let you see me like that. I don’t want you to think—”
“I won’t think anything of you, I promise! Just… just please don’t leave me here. Please,” you quickly blabber out even if you’re not sure who the words are meant for; you or him. “Just tell me what you need.”
“No way.” He’s practically panting, every breath still continuing to be laboured as he says, “You’re not gonna like it.”
“Just say it.”
“It’s so fucking embarrassing, though.”
“Goddammit, spit it out already!”
“I—” He falters, huffing, only stressing you out further until he finally says, “I need to cum.”
The white noise that had just eased a bit inside your ears immediately gets replaced by the deafening ringing of your pulse. Did you just hear that right? 
“H-Huh?” is all you can let out as a result.
“I need to cum to make the rut ease up,” he explains impatiently, voice breathless, hoarse. He looks at you, the vein in his neck bulging as his jaw clicks into place again. “Fucking hell… M’sorry, I’m so sorry… for everything. You don’t gotta do anything if you don’t wanna, I’d never force you but— fuck, it’s so fucking hot in here. I can’t breathe.”
The moment you see him start losing his composure again is the moment that you spring into action.
“Here, let’s just… take it easy for a bit.” You blink profusely, trying to gain control of the situation as you ease him onto the pile of sleeping bags. “Breathe in nice and slow, yeah?”
“No,” he grunts out, tensing again in an instant. “That makes it worse.”
“Oh, right. Right. Sorry.” 
Moments pass, all of them feeling like ages even if it’s only a second or two, perhaps three. You spend them all by watching him like a shark in water, not sounding quite like yourself as you force yourself to step out of your comfort zone for once and utter, “Let me help you.”
“What?”
“Let me help you with the whole… uh.” Your rare, spontaneous decision makes your head want to hurt from all the anxiety it’s causing. “Cumming part, I mean.”
“No.” His cheeks glow red as he swallows hard. “You seriously don’t gotta. Like I said, I’d never—”
“I know,” you cut in, giving him a look of what you hope looks like determination instead of pure anxiety. “I know you wouldn’t. Besides, there’s no need for that because I want to, okay?”
Kiba frowns, looking the most exasperated you’ve ever seen him be. It makes his voice unusually quiet and small as he whispers, “Why would you?”
“Want that?”
“Yes.”
“I want to because you’re my friend,” you say and it’s the truth. “And I don’t care what it is that we gotta do to make you feel all right again, I’ll always help you out because of that, okay?”
“But I’m a shitty friend. I don’t deserve you helping me out; I don’t deserve you,” he counters. “I mean, for fuck’s sake… Look at the shitshow that I dragged you into just now.”
“You made it sound like you didn’t know this would happen, though,” you argue back, growing more backbone with your tone. “Did I understand that right?”
His teeth sink into the inside of his cheek, instantly drawing blood from how sharper they are than they used to be. He hisses, licking the now aching spot, tasting iron. “Yes.”
“Okay, then let me help you,” you try again, unrecognized greed and the bond you can’t feel not as nearly as deep as him pushing you forward hand in hand. “Yeah?”
Kiba looks at you for a long while. His eyes have gotten so dark that they look like they could absorb you whole when he finally opens his mouth to say, “Yeah.” His eyelids flutter shut for a brief second as he shakes his head, as if chasing the doubt away. “Yeah, all right.”
With his approval acquired, the couple of seconds to follow are like a blur. You don’t know where the sudden burst of confidence comes from as you coax him to lay on his back, but you’re happy it’s there because it keeps your hands somewhat from shaking.
“Come to think of it, maybe we shouldn’t—” He stiffens, the words catching in his throat from the way his cock automatically starts to twitch in his sweats because of the way your unsure touch travels down his stomach, now.
His dark happy trail tickles the tips of your fingers, caramel skin still so hot that you’re surprised he’s still conscious and capable of forming thoughts. 
“It’s okay, shh,” you soothe him even if your heart feels like it’s climbed up your throat again when he immediately pushes himself up with the help of his elbows so that he can look at you. You’re both trying so hard to not stare at the obvious tent in his pants. “I’ll, um… I-I’ll take care of it, okay?”
Your best friend’s chest heaves with every fast breath. All he can do is nod, the discomfort obvious as he says, “Okay.”
God, he sounds so uncomfortable but desperate for it at the same time. You force yourself not to look at him as you kneel beside him, feeling sweat gathering on the nape of your neck. Just a little while ago you were cold. Now, you’re burning up from how quickly he’s warming up the small space.
“Will, like, a handjob be enough…?” This entire thing is insane. Surreal.
You’ve gone from zero to a hundred just because he’ll go off the rails otherwise.
“I, uh, I think so?” His fingers curl, fisting the smooth material of the sleeping bag. He clutches it so tightly that it makes his knuckles turn white as he adds, “I mean, that’s what I do when I’m alone.”
“You jerk off during a rut?” The image of him stroking himself makes your stomach tighten and your throat turn scratchy.
“So many times. Ugh.” Heat spreads throughout your body at the groan he lets out, but it also warms his face into an even deeper shade of red. Talking about these things might be embarrassing right now, but it eases the tension. So he continues, “Sometimes I even have to take a couple days off work just so I can keep fuckin’ my fist, hah.”
The look on your face makes him inhale a sharp breath through gritted teeth.
“Too much?” he asks, that same look of dread overtaking his features once more.
“No, no,” you reply hurriedly, running two now-trembling fingers along the waistband of his sweatpants. The way his toned stomach trembles in response turns your mouth painfully dry all over again. “I just… I thought you’d rather venture out to find somebody to sleep with during a time like that. So that you can, you know… make it pass quicker or something.”
“Oh. Well, I did try to do that. But it didn’t go so well,” he answers, staring at every movement your hand makes with heavy eyelids. “Here, lemme… help you out ‘cause we gotta speed things up a bit. I’m so sorry… God.”
Your breath hitches when his too-warm hand cups your smaller one and wraps it around the prominent bulge in his sweatpants without any sort of hesitance, but with palpable urgency instead. 
He curls your fingers around the ridge of his clothed cock until you can feel out the shape of it. And then he stills completely, giving you time to pull back if you change your mind about the entire thing despite that every cell of him wants to roar.
But you never do. 
No, instead all you do is succumb to the moment and start to stroke him the way he’s shown you — slowly at first.
“Fuck, okay… That’s it,” he whispers, broad shoulders tensing at the touch. His fingers twitch, tightening their grip on the sleeping bag.
The praise is like a flame and it licks your skin. Feeling how big he is getting under the cotton now, how fucking huge he’s growing, makes your saliva thick and your voice wobbly as you whisper, “Like that?”
“Mhmm, yeah.” He sighs before yet another curse spills past his parted lips. There’s drool gathering on the surface of his sharp fangs by the time he urges you on. When he swallows it, it’s audible. 
Somehow, it succeeds in making you feel better, more relaxed. The fact that he’s just as nervous as you are helps. 
So you let your lips quirk upwards briefly as you say, “Now you’re the one that’s got drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, huh?” 
“Yeah, sorry.” He huffs a laugh. “This whole thing is pretty new to me. Makes my body act all sorts of weird.”
You blink. “A handjob is new to you?”
He shakes his head, looking down at his lap with a blush so prominent that it makes his entire face tingle. “No, I meant like a mate’s touch.”
“Oh.” You offer him a nervous smile, readjusting yourself on your legs. “Well, um… enjoy it while it lasts, hah?”
Kiba doesn’t say anything in answer. Neither do you. Maybe he’s afraid of what this will mean for your friendship afterwards. Maybe you both are. But with each passing minute, you slowly ease yourself into your sinful ministrations. Your strokes turn less rigid, the hesitance replaced with cautious intent, but intent nevertheless.
The waistband of his sweatpants gradually slips lower and lower down his hips as you keep going. A glob of your saliva gets involved; transferring from your pursed lips, to your palm, to his cock that has finally been freed from the too-tight confines of his clothes and is now being spoiled by skin on skin contact.
Even if Kiba remains in his — mostly — human form, you soon learn that werewolf cock is vastly different from a human one. In the dark, you can’t see it quite well, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t feel the difference. 
It’s bigger, harder, hotter to the touch than any you’ve previously had. It throbs and practically leaks pre-cum, nearly making you think that you didn’t even have to spit into your palm in the first place. In fact, it’s so lubed up that there are wet, almost squishy noises by the time his hips start to buck upwards and he starts fucking your fist.
You’re hovering over him, your face merely inches away from his own from how close you’ve gotten during the entire ordeal. If you thought he was panting before, now he’s nearly hyperventilating as he rasps, “F-fuck, mm… faster. Go faster, bunny. It feels s’good.”
His voice has turned into a growl of some kind; it’s the lewdest you’ve ever heard him speak. Because even with all the dirty jokes, and the questionable looks, and the sometimes too-long hugs which you’ve exchanged throughout the years, Kiba has always, always been respectful of your boundaries and limits.
But he really pushes that limit, really steps on that already thin line when he suddenly rests his forehead against your own and asks, “Are you gonna let me kiss you?”
Your thoughts turn fuzzy in an instant at the request, as well as at the nearly non-existent proximity. This isn’t about helping him out anymore, this is about feelings. Feelings that you’re very much still trying to understand. 
And feelings are dangerous, when you know that being friends is best for you. After all, you’re so different from each other — polar opposites. But you feel the invisible link that connects you to him now a bit better than you did before, feel it tugging you towards him; closer and closer, even if you’re merely human. Every touch makes it stronger and alters your brain chemistry, alters the way you see him.
It feels like you’re gradually starting to share every breath, like your heartbeats are aligning and will keep on aligning all until they’ll start to beat as one. Like you’re fusing together; he’s becoming you at the same time you’re becoming him.
You have no clue how he’s managed to endure all of this for such a long time, surely feeling it at least ten times stronger than you do. And in a way, it’s scary. All these emotions are making you feel overwhelmed and the worst part is that they’re not nearly as deep yet as his are.
You stare at him. He stares right back with dark eyes full of what you think is good intention. 
Your lips quiver as you whisper, “Do you think kissing is a good idea?”
“It’s just a couple of kisses, bunny,” he answers way too fast, quietly whimpering when your thumb swipes over his sensitive cockhead, turning tacky because of the bead of pre-cum there. He’s so needy that he feels like it’s going to kill him. The rut has outright cooked his brain by now, and that makes him pushy — he’s warned you about it. “It’s not like it’s gonna change anything between us.”
You look at him again, still sceptic. Your grip around his cock tightens as you think. “I dunno...”
“C’mon. Please, please, please,” he urges, feeling even more hot and bothered and desperate at how godly it feels when you stroke his cock. Up and down, up and down, up and down — he’s going to go batshit crazy. “Didn’t you tell me that you were gonna be a bit more spontaneous tonight? Hmm?”
You stare at him from underneath your lashes, feeling just a little less doubtful from how he pleads for it. Despite being perplexed about the entire situation, his uncharacteristic rambling and babbling and the constant need to challenge you proves to be like a push forward that you need in order to press your lips against his own.
So you gather your courage and lean in. And of course, he meets you halfway in an instant — even faster than that. 
The kiss itself is messy when you connect. It’s more so a clash of teeth and swapping of runny saliva, than it is a loving peck. He craves for you so bad that before you can even take a breath in, he’s nudging your bottom lip with his tongue, trying to make you part your lips a fraction wider; to part just enough for him to slip his tongue inside.
You let out a little ‘mmph!’ sound at how intense he is with it and how he cups one side of your face with his hand, literally forcing you to open up for him by pressing his thumb underneath your jaw.
“Hey—”
And it’s the opening he’s been looking for. He pushes his tongue inside, gliding it over your front teeth, tasting the roof of your mouth, exploring it like he’ll never get another chance to do so again — perhaps he won’t, who knows? 
So he hits you like a tidal wave and kisses you like he’s planning to eat you — it’s riveting as much as it is intimidating. Spit gets swapped with each sloppy kiss that gets shared between you now, some of it bridging the small gap between your mouths whenever you push him back just enough to come back for air. His large canine teeth bump against your own normal-sized ones. The occasional click! is enough to make your blood run hot.
And surprisingly, in the midst of all this chaos, you realize that kissing him feels right. It’s by no means romantic or a profession of love, but it is natural and synchronized in its own peculiar way. Somehow, it even makes sense. Like parts are connecting, like the image is getting clearer, like puzzle pieces are falling into place.
All those feelings that you’ve shoved down and blinded yourself from for literal years are rushing to the surface now. You feel like you’re going to burst.
In a way, Kiba feels the same.
“I, ah… I think m’gonna cum soon... Kissing you feels so hot.” He groans when he feels you falter, body tensing at how low his voice has gotten. His cock is nearly pulsating in your palm by now and he has to remind you to continue by helping you out with his own hand. “Fuck, keep goin’, keep goin’. Don’t stop now; I didn’t tell ya to stop, did I?”
Flustered and incredibly overwhelmed by everything that is happening, you do as he says because following orders — even frantic, growly ones — is familiar and comforting as a result. 
You let him sloppily fuck your fist as you tighten the hold of your fingers and loosen your wrist so that he can get what he needs to bring himself to his finish. All while he’s practically shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you with such a burning passion that it feels like you’ll be engulfed in flames and turned into ashes any second now.
Heat steadily builds up within Kiba’s stomach. Sweat pours out of every pore all over again, making his hair stick to his forehead. His toes curl, his balls tighten. His throat gets all scratchy and dry. His brow furrows so deeply that it gives him a headache as he squeezes his eyes shut and just feels.
“Yeah… Just a lil’— fuck, yes, yes…!”
You go faster. And when he finally does tip over the edge and cums, it’s insane. 
His movements spasm, broad shoulders tense up to the point of pain. And then he’s literally growling into your mouth; making your lips and the inside of your throat vibrate as he becomes undone.
Your heart stutters at the sound. And when you feel his warm, sticky seed steadily fill your hand, it begins to dance inside your chest.
After all, there’s a literal fuckload of it, perhaps even more. His release dribbles past your knuckles and soils his sweatpants. It gushes out of him, ropes of it, all tacky and cloudy white and potent. You’ve never seen a man produce so much cum, especially not because of you. 
The sight, no, the feel of it makes you rub your thighs together as you squeeze every last droplet out of him. Before you know it, there’s a tingly sensation growing in intensity between your legs. A certain kind of heat pooling at the apex of your thighs, a certain kind of stickiness that causes your underwear to cling to your most private part.
Unsure of the reason as to why his pleasure affects you so strongly, the presence of your sudden arousal takes you by surprise and thus only makes you even more nervous as your core temperature scales higher, higher, higher.
You flinch when he kisses the corner of your swollen, kiss-bruised lips. Your cheek. Your neck. And it’s in that spot, where the curve of your shoulder starts, that he finally rests his sweat-riddled forehead and croaks out a very exhausted and very grateful, “Thank you.”
Kiba sags before you can reply, resting a great part of his weight against you and nearly making you stumble backwards because of it. Despite all of the confusion that riddles your mind at that moment, you can’t help but simply hold your best friend upright, repeatedly weaving your clean fingers through his now-damp hair in meek attempt of soothing him.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying to ignore the way your stomach feels like it’s doing flips. Who knew you had such an effect on him? Or he on you? “You’re okay. I-I mean, you’re messy, but you’re okay.”
Long moments pass. It’s hard to tell in the dark how much time has passed exactly when your phone is nowhere to be seen, but judging by how your fingers are still tacky with his now mostly dried up release, it must have been a couple of minutes at least.
“God, I didn’t think there'd be so much cum, heh... My bad,” he grunts at some point, pulling you out of your thoughts with the way he rubs the sweat on his forehead into your hoodie. Before you can scold him for it, he’s already back to burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and trying to tame his breaths. 
His exhales are warm and ticklish. They make you snicker as you try to push away from him, hiding the sensitive spot with the help of your chin. “What’re you doing?”
“Sniffin’ you,” he answers with a matter-of-fact tone, as if it’s the most normal thing for a person to do.
“Well, stop it! I already told you that it’s weird back at the store.”
“Ahh, but you smell so good.”
Another smile kicks the corners of your lips upward. You’ve always liked the little compliments he gives you. This time it’s no different. “Do I, now?”
“Mhmm,” he nearly purrs, nuzzling his nose even further into your neck until he’s got it practically smushed against your pulse point, causing it to wrinkle slightly at the bridge. “It’s sweeter than usual though, your scent. How are you feelin’?”
Ba-dum.
“Oh, you know,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. Can he tell what you’re experiencing? “A bit overwhelmed by everything that’s happened just now, but I’m fine otherwise... I think.”
A little moment of silence ensues. You’re just about to tease him and ask if he’s done interrogating you when he rasps, “You’re sure? ‘Cause I can definitely smell something other than ‘fine’ and ‘overwhelmed’.”
He sounds different again. More gruff. More tense. More demanding of an answer. 
It makes you feel cornered all of a sudden.
Before you can move, he pulls back just enough to press the side of his face against your own as he waits for your answer; perhaps giving you the comfort of avoiding eye contact, perhaps just to feel more physical touch — you don’t know. 
So, you’re cheek to cheek, now. Chest to chest. Muscle to muscle. The distance between you is nearly non-existent as you each stare at opposite corners of the tent. 
His stubble scrapes your face. Wasn’t he clean-shaven just this morning? 
Your breath warms his shoulder as he utters, “Well?”
“Yeah,” you answer as the slight prickle in your cheek yanks you back from the haze that is your thought process. Your voice is once again as wobbly as your legs are getting. It’s hard to concentrate when he’s so close. “I’m sure.”
“‘Kay,” he trails off, still not convinced. “How ‘bout…” 
Slowly, ever so slowly, Kiba leans down to press his lips to your neck again and leaves another tender kiss there, sending shivers down your spine. “Now?”
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum!
You’re quiet, but your fingers tangle into his dark hair as you latch onto him for support in a mere instant, even you’re surprised by it. The way you can feel his sharp canines grazing your throat is exhilarating. Brain working purely on autopilot, you tug at the roots at the back of his head the same moment as your eyelids flutter shut. You simply can’t help yourself.
Perhaps this bond that he’s been telling you about isn’t something only he can experience, after all.
“And now…?” he utters so softly that you can barely hear him over the sound of your quickening pulse. His hand glides from between your shoulder blades, down to the small of your back and goddammit, his palm is so broad; it’s almost comical how big of a portion of you it manages to cover. “How do you feel now?” 
“Good. I feel… good,” is all you can answer with this time. Your voice sounds so small as his touch travels over the curve of your ass and rounds the corner by landing on the front of your thigh instead. 
You don’t fail to notice the way his calloused fingertips start to glide upwards now that they’re on your leg. The claws, that must have replaced his nails at some point when you weren’t paying that much attention, drag against the stretchy material of your leggings; playful, taunting. 
It’s all so slow. Deliberate.
The sudden burst of adrenaline that rushes through your veins and nestles deep inside your belly makes you fidgety, but he keeps you nice and steady by holding the side of your head with his other hand. 
Those claws are at your inner thigh now, only inching higher.
Higher, higher, higher.
And his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers a what you could only call an exceptionally needy, “Yeah?”
“Yea-ah!” A little gasp that’s more of a moan than anything else slips out from the way he unexpectedly cups your clothed pussy into the palm of his hand.
“Scent doesn’t lie, bunny,” he says, chuckling darkly. “You should keep that in mind when you’re around someone like me, y’know.”
Shit. You’re in for it now, aren’t you? His touch is scorching hot again even through the two layers of clothes that separates you from him.
It only spurs you into action, almost making you start to grind against him as you arch your back and press yourself closer.
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum! 
Your heart feels like it’s on the verge of giving out.
“We should stop, K-Ki—” You don’t succeed in saying his name fully when he applies more pressure to make you reconsider. 
The heel of his palm presses right against your clit this time. Breathless and unsure if it’s done on purpose or merely by some lucky accident, you jolt, trying to squeeze your thighs together.
He catches you when you sag against him, much like you’ve previously done when he had been the one struggling to stay upright. And surprise, surprise — he’s hard all over again. Ready to go for round two, his cock starts poking your thigh whenever you move, leaving little splotches of sticky pre-cum there. 
It causes a second heatwave to hit you as filthy thoughts begin flooding your mind. Pussy dripping at the mere idea of him attempting to push that fat, monstrous cock inside you, you let out a little sound of panic when he presses his finger right on the spot where your tight little hole is hiding under the leggings.
“Oh, you liked that, huh?” You can’t see it, but he smirks into the dark; fangs glinting with the wolfish grin that’s gotten so conceited that it hurts. “Look at that… Lil’ bunny is getting all worked up from a bit of heavy petting.”
“Am not!” you stammer with feverish need, licking your lips as your nails dig into his scalp and you grab yet another fistful of his chestnut-coloured hair. “Stop teasing me… I-I’m just— Ugh…”
“I’ll stop if you let me take your clothes off already so that I can lick you and fuck you like you obviously wanna be fucked,” he says, rubbing tight little circles right into that little button that makes you feel like there is electricity running through your veins, not blood. “How does that sound? Or are you just gonna keep grindin’ that little pussy of yours into my hand for the rest of the night?”
Before you can answer, he slides up and down your slit, making your cunt eat up your underwear and leggings, shaping it out. Your knees buckle as you rest all of your weight against him, trusting him that he’ll hold you upright.
But the problem is that he doesn’t. Instead, Kiba uses the hand that he’s holding the side of your head with to help lay you down. 
Until you’re right underneath him.
And just like that, he’s on top of you, breathing in your scent with almost a sense of urgency whilst his hand still keeps on rubbing that overwhelmingly sensitive spot between your legs. Keeps on provoking it and keeps on making you so horny that you’re barely any better than a cat in heat.
With every stroke, he’s making you hot and bothered all over again. Making you buck your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Making you sweat and whine and borderline sniffle as the upcoming tears of pent-up sexual frustration sting your waterline.
You’re about to go batshit crazy if he doesn’t do something other than pet you.
So it’s no wonder that you whimper and allow him to undress you one piece of clothing at a time, until you’ve got nothing else on but your colourful socks and your plain cotton panties are dangling from one ankle. That you let him kiss you down your neck and chest, until he’s nosing his way between your legs and licking you with that inhumanly coarse tongue to his heart’s content.
That you let him feast upon you like a man starved even if he is more monster than man; until your legs are trembling around his head and you’re seeing stars behind closed eyelids. That you let him devour your sweetness and inhale such deep, long breaths of its scent, despite that you’re feeling slightly embarrassed about it after telling him that you’re all ‘sweaty and gross’ down there after the hike, and he’s assured you at least a million times that he likes it even better that way.
And it’s no wonder that you let him spit onto your pussy as he kisses up your thigh and hovers above you, then, before he bends your legs so far back that your knees are nearly touching your ears. That you let him fold you into a mating press and align his cock with your sticky cunt at long last, his fat cockhead prodding at your tight hole that just won’t stop fluttering at even the slightest intrusion.
“Imma pound you s’good. Gonna make you cream on my cock, gonna do all of that nasty shit that I wanted to do to ya for s’long,” he babbles, his stare so ardent that it pierces right through your heart even if he’s not focused at all. The second wave of his rut has already contaminated all his thoughts and consumed him entirely. All he can think about is slamming you to your breaking point.
“Kiba, wa—…. wait,” you mewl, eyes wide open as you stare up at him. With his back hunched and his biceps flexing, every muscle and cord strained to withhold his weight, he’s gotten so big that he can barely fit inside the tent anymore. 
How in the hell is he gonna fit inside you?
“Please, I need it. Need it so, so, so bad, fuck,” he drawls almost like he isn’t completely present, his expression all dazed and stupid from how he keeps on staring between your legs. He nudges you again as he says the words, his cockhead catching against your sticky entrance once more, making you squirm. “Your cunt smells so fuckin’ sweet; it’s driving me nuts... I gotta push inside you, bunny, okay? Imma push in.”
You tremble in response, hips wiggling, legs opening a fraction wider to give him even more space because of how persistent he’s getting. When you look up at him through hooded eyelids, all you can see is how his slits for pupils dilate at the sight of the silvery string of arousal that clings to his cock now, connecting him to your cunt.
Your pussy is so wet — it’s practically drooling.
Consequently, it makes him drool, too. Saliva nearly drips down Kiba’s canines all over again.
“Just the tip, okay?” you whisper, trying to calm your heavy-pounding heart.
“Jus’ the tip, yeah,” he murmurs back with that fang-induced mumble, still so pussy drunk that he’s nearly brain-dead. His irises have turned yellow; they glow in the dark as he looks at you and says, “Jus’ the tip and nothin’ else.”
You stare at him with big, watery eyes. “You promise?”
Kiba huffs a laugh despite the fact that he looks like he’s barely keeping himself together. “‘Course I do, sweetheart.” 
Hearing him promise, you nod, and thus give him the approval that he’s been practically dying to get. “All right… But go slowly, okay? ‘Cause I’m scared.” 
“Slow, gotcha. Gonna go so slow that it won’t hurt one bit.” 
With a heartbeat that’s damn well working overtime by now, Kiba softly grunts when he finally presses into you, causing you to instantly flinch and wiggle your hips for a second time to try and accommodate him better.
“Keep still, will ya?” he chides, his patience leaving him for a quick second. “You’re twitchin’ all over the place like you’re an actual rabbit.”
“I’m trying! And shut it.” He keeps on pushing at your fussing, turning your voice higher in pitch as you say, “Shit, shit, shit… I said slowly!”
He grits his teeth, eyebrows drawing together in concentration that he doesn’t have. “This is slow.”
“Well, I-I think that you’re going way too fast.”
“Stop naggin’ me already and relax.”
“Excuse me?!”
Your mouth opens, but before you can even begin unleashing the storm that is your newly-formed fury, he leans down to press his lips against your own like the little shit he is.
Moments pass, he keeps kissing you as a means to distract you from the fact that he’s slowly filling you with his cock. And eventually, with some sweet-talking and plenty of combined effort, your pussy gives in when he adds just a little bit of force to the push, letting him break past that tight ring of muscle that your nerves must be causing.
You’re so tight that it makes the hair on the nape of his neck stand to attention when he finally slips inside, but you’re also so sloppy and dripping wet at the same time that he isn’t worried about it too much.
After all, from the way you push your head back now, pointing your chin upwards and exposing more of your neck that he feels the need to wrap his hand around and stroke it with the help of his thumb, you seem to be enjoying yourself just fine.
Nevertheless, concern — that he feels for you at all times — crosses his tight features. He’s barely holding it together, and here he is; looking out for you as he asks, “You doin’ okay?”
“Mhmm, yeah,” you utter, tensing when his touch moves from your neck down to your tits. 
He quirks a brow as he squeezes the fat of your breast and runs his thumb across your nipple this time, making you shudder. “But?”
You give him a pointed look. How can he always tell that there’s something hiding behind the reassurance? “But, you’re just so… big. Concerningly so. I’m worried about how I’m gonna take it all.”
He muses as he mocks the sound of your voice and says, “What happened to ‘just the tip, okay’?”
You huff, pouting. “Don’t make me keep it that way, you prick.”
“Okay, okay, m’sorry,” he says hurriedly, pressing what must be the hundredth kiss onto your lips. “I’ll be good, just don’t make me pull out, please.”
“What about you? Are you doing okay?” you ask, caressing his cheek with your palm. The way he instantly leans further into your touch makes your heart not only dance, but also sing. “I know this must be especially hard for you.”
“I’m fine,” he mumbles lamely, convincing neither of you. And then he sighs at the way you roll your eyes at him in answer. “I just… I want—”
“More?” you suggest.
A prominent blush sears his cheeks. Since when did he blush so much? He’s also sweating like crazy all over again as he says, “Yeah.”
“All right.” Carefully, you nod your head yes once more as you remind him, “I’ll give you more. But slowly, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispers, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. How he doesn’t puncture the rosy skin with the action, you don’t understand. “I’ll go nice n’ easy on ya. Cross my heart.”
Well, he’ll try at least.
And Kiba does try to go nice and easy, he really does. But it’s hard for him to keep his cool when the beast keeps on howling in his veins and the bond that chains him to you screams at him to brand every last inch of your skin and soul alike.
He’s nearly trembling all over by the time he sinks balls deep into you and his dark pubic hair kisses your clit.
But at long last, you’ve become one.
“Fuck.”
“That feels so—”
“Good. That feels so fuckin’ good, goddamn.”
“I-I’m so… full.”
“You’re welcome.”
“God, do you ever shut up?”
“What d’you think?” 
“I think—”
“Woah, look, I’m even makin’ your belly bulge a bit.”
“Ew, ew, ew! That’s so gross.”
“What? No, it ain’t. I actually think it’s kind of cool-lookin’.”
“Stop poking it!”
“Nu-uh.”
Your ankles cross at the middle of his back when he presses his hand to your tummy, colourful socks scraping tan skin. The way you clench around him when he digs his fingers into the bulge makes Kiba wish he had the ability to purr.
“Move,” you squeak out, breath hitching at how the tip of his cock has managed to snuggle right next to your goddamn cervix. “Need you to… move. It’s too much! Kiba, please.”
He tries not to show how happy he is to do as you tell him, but fails with the way his entire face literally lights up as he says, “Like this?”
“Yeah,” you answer quickly, savoring every last bit of friction he gives you now. The rhythm he’s chosen is surprisingly laggard, even if he looks like he’s just about to start bursting at the seams. “Y-yeah, like that.”
Kiba likes the way you sound when you’ve got something fucking into you at a steady pace, but it’s even better that that something is him. Now that he thinks about it, the tone is pretty similar to the one you used to have after every gym class back in high school.
God, did he like seeing those tight shorts on you every Wednesday. Good memories.
A proper moan — the first amongst many — suddenly leaves your mouth, coaxing him away from his trip down memory lane and urging him to make you keep talking, talking, talking as he asks, “You need me just as much as I need you, don’tcha?”
“Pfsh. I never said… that,” you drawl with a click of a tongue as your breathing picks up. Every time he draws his hips back and pushes them back into you feels like he’s reshaping your entire goddamn cunt. Not an unpleasant sensation necessarily, but it definitely takes some time getting used to. 
“‘Kay, but listen to all this noise you’re making now that I’ve stuffed your lil’ bunny cunt full,” he says, his eyes glowing with mischief and that sublime yellow colour. “Bet no other man could make you sound like that, huh?”
They’re lazy but deep, the thrusts. Filled with intent. With arrogance and urgency that hides just beneath the surface, waiting to pounce. They reach parts of you that you’ve never even thought could be touched. They make slick dribble down his balls, until it’s all dripping right onto the sleeping bags you’re fucking on top of.
It’s all so audible and loud. Messy. The occasional sound of skin slapping against skin. The wet squelching noises between you. The constant whimpering and his growling grunts, steadily growing in volume.
And you’re going slow.
“Yeah, well that’s ‘cause you’re no man, you dummy,” you bite back when you’re more familiar and comfortable with each other and the connection, trying to be witty even if it’s hard to keep your mind from breaking into shambles.
“Is that so?” He’s breathing hard, picking up his pace, going harder. “Then what am I?”
A dazed smile curls your lips. “You’re a dirty, dirty dog.”
Kiba could agree with that statement to some degree, perhaps. Even if he dislikes the particular term you’ve used.
After all, you have no idea how he’s gotten himself off with a pair of panties that he’d swiped from your drawer and wrapped around his fist back in senior year. Or how he’d turned embarrassingly hard after almost every hug and had to play it cool even if he was sweating bullets from trying to hide the raging boner in his pants. Or how he’s fantasized and fantasized and fantasized; only watching porn with actresses that shared similarities with you because nothing else seemed to work.
You don’t have a clue about any of that.
And he hopes it stays that way.
“Hah.” An almost mean snicker leaves his lips as he unexpectedly slams into you, making you squeal out a particularly nasty curse and causing your pussy to outright gush at the intrusion. “Careful, sweetheart. If you keep on saying things like that, I��ll be more than happy to treat ya like the dirty dog you say I am.”
“Will you, though?” you challenge playfully, stroking down his back with the heel of your foot.
He sneers as he answers, “I will if you keep on testin’ me.”
“But I thought you said that you’re bonded to me?” 
“Yeah,” he says. “So?”
“So, doesn’t that mean that you can’t hurt me?”
He blinks, surprised. “Who said anything ‘bout hurting you…? I’d just mount you.”
Your expression copies his own. “Mount… me?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, temperature suddenly flaring up at the thought. “You know… the same way animals fuck.”
Heat creeps up your neck at the crude way he explains it. “Oh.”
Kiba’s lips quirk upwards when he catches a whiff of the subtle change in your scent. You’re flustered at the idea, smelling even sweeter now that there are no clothes to buffer the prominent notes of arousal. “I take it that you wanna try it?”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. A wave of sweat washes over you, toes curling. “What— No!”
“Oh, c’mon,” he pushes gently, helping you out. “Scent doesn’t lie, remember? You’ll like it, I promise.” 
“And if I don’t?” you ask.
He nudges your chin with the tip of his nose. “If you don’t, we’ll stop. Simple as that.”
“Okay, but can you stop?” You angle your head so that he can press a kiss to your cheek. “When you’re like this… under the influence of a rut. Can you stop?”
Silence hangs in the air as he pulls away to look at you, his expression suddenly somber despite the glaze of unbridled lust that still coats his unnatural eyes. 
“I’d never hurt you,” he finally says. “I’d rather die than hurt my mate, that’s why I was ready to leave before.”
Kiba’s voice is stone cold serious. The intensity he chooses to speak with so that he can get his point across causes butterflies to spring free inside your belly.
You can still feel them fluttering around by the time his clawed hands manhandle you into the position he wants. Laying on your stomach now, you let out a little noise of surprise when his weight presses you further down into the silky nylon of the sleeping bags the moment he tops you.
He’s heavy, taking the profound size difference into account, but you’re pleased to find out that it’s the kind of weight that comforts you instead of suffocating you. You feel warm. Safe.
“Can I…?” he trails off.
His exhale tickles the back of your neck, making the hairs there rise to attention as you shiver and say, “Well, that’s what I’m here for, aren’t I?”
“Oh, sorry, my bad,” he says. “I thought you were here for the s’mores.”
“Not funny— oh.”
Your back arches and your anger dissipates into nothing as soon as he begins to push inside you again, careful not to stuff you full too fast. After all, while it might be easier to fit him inside you this time thanks to your earlier endeavours, it still remains to be no small task.
He’s as careful and considerate as he’s able to be in the state that he’s in. He pushes gently, but pushes nonetheless. By the time he sinks into you to the hilt and pauses to give you a minute, you’re both panting like you’ve just ran a marathon.
“You doin’ okay, bunny?” he rasps, voice so low and growly that it really does make you think you’re getting fucked by an animal. Or a beast, if you’d have to specify it.
“Yep, mhmm…!” You squeak out, your voice so high-pitched that it must surely hurt or at least agitate his ultra-sensitive hearing. You’re happy that he can’t see the fucked out expression that sits on your face right now. “Doing a-okay.”
“Don’t try to run away, now,” he teases when you wiggle your hips, trying to readjust yourself. “Or else the hunting instinct is gonna kick in.”
“Not to worry,” you practically chirp, feeling your body slipping into a fever at the way his big, calloused palm presses into the small of your back. “I’m staying put.”
He chuckles at how submissive he’s made you sound, at how there’s a prominent sheen of sweat gathering on your spine. Gliding his finger down your dewy skin, Kiba catches himself wishing to lick you clean of salt, but at the same time he just knows that you’d cause a fuss about it if he’d even mention the mere idea of it.
So for the following minutes, he doesn’t speak.
And neither do you.
You can’t speak from how deep he’s pushed himself inside you, anyway. No, all you can do is moan and whimper uselessly as he then proceeds to fuck you, to make love to you, to break you apart just to reassemble you until you’re whole again; all in the position he likes best.
He makes you sweat. Makes you cry out to him as you allow yourself to get lost in deeply-rooted carnal pleasure and you need his help to bring you back to morality. At some point, his arm even ends up reaching underneath you and wrapping around your stomach just so he can hold your hips up when you try to crawl away despite telling him that you’re going to stay put earlier.
Judging by the way you’re reacting to him, Kiba guesses that he’ll have to carry you down the hill when morning comes. 
Meanwhile, you’re unsure if it’s the bond that’s making you feel this wild or the simple fact that he’s not entirely human. However, when you at long last feel yourself clenching around him, and when that tight, almost unbearable heat that’s inside your tummy finally spills free and spreads throughout your whole body, you realize that you don’t really care what the reason behind your sudden recklessness might be.
“Fuck. M’not gonna last long, sweetheart… No fuckin’ way that I’m gonna last when your cunt’s milkin’ me dry like that,” Kiba grunts out as he feels you gush and start creaming on his cock. There’s a ring of milky slick gathering at his base already — the sight and sound of it turns his thrusts jerky and irregular. 
“Don’t get scared of the knot now, okay?” His upper lip trembles as he swallows hard. “It’ll be there just for a minute, I swear.”
“Knot…? What’s a—Oh, my gosh, Kiba; I am going to fucking murder you!”
The sudden swelling you feel inside your pussy practically bullies its way up to your cervix as he hunches his back and gives you one last, final push. 
Your toes curl as the ‘knot’ — or whatever he calls it — plugs you, and also succeeds in making you entirely rigid in return. Every last inch of your body feels tingly from the foreign sensation as he lets out one final groan, that sounds more like a pained whimper than anything else, and simply fills you up to the brim with warm, thick, endless ropes of cum that paint your abused walls entirely white and simply refuse to spill out of you.
You stare off into the darkness, listening to his ragged breathing whilst trying to tame your own. Eventually, his cock softens enough for your cunt to not feel like it’s going to fucking explode from the fullness. And as soon as that happens, he drops down upon poor, unsuspecting you; feeling completely, utterly exhausted.
Your werewolf best friend is squishing you flat like a pancake and is spoiling you with messy kisses after fucking you like an animal in the middle of the woods. And you’re just… fine with that?
The realization makes you smile.
Maybe living your life on the edge for once and being a little bit spontaneous isn’t as bad as you think.
———
“I really hope that your pills can withstand all that werewolf cum I’ve just pumped into ya, ya know. ‘Cause otherwise we’re gonna be having an entire litter of pups.”
“For the love of god, can you please use your lowly developed frontal lobe for like a second of your miserable life, and just keep watch like I told you to?”
“This is pointless. There’s literally no one here besides us and a couple of deer.”
“Shush! I’m trying to pee and I can’t do that when you keep on running your big-ass mouth!”
“Words, words, words; I am saying so many words just so that you won’t be able to piss.”
“Shut up already!”
With his back turned towards you and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweatpants, Kiba fights back a laugh as he listens to you relieve yourself in the nearby tall grass. 
After fucking you close to stupidity nearly three times in a row now — and mounting you twice during those three times — the young werewolf feels somewhat content with himself at long last. 
He’s fucked most of the rut out of his system by now. Besides that, you’ve also talked a lot, apologized to each other, and cleared up some misunderstandings. He’s even managed to place a hickey on that spot on your neck where your scent is the strongest and where, he hopes, you’ll let him place an actual bite mark someday.
But for now, you’re taking it slow. On Saturday, he’s taking you out to dinner at that little restaurant by the lake that you’ve always liked visiting with your parents. 
And who knows, maybe after you share dessert together, you might even go for a swim so that he has an excuse to take his shirt off in front of you and you get to make fun of him for it, or whatever.
So lost in his thoughts and all the planning he has yet to start pondering through, Kiba barely hears the rustle of your footsteps when you approach him from behind. 
He tenses, whipping his head in your direction only a millisecond before you manage to put away your travel sized packet of baby wipes that he teases you for constantly carrying around with you, and you place your hand on his shoulder.
Your eyebrows rise up towards your hairline in response to his visible startlement. “Did I just manage to sneak up on the so-called ‘apex predator’?”
“You wish,” he says as he absent-mindedly brushes you off. “I could smell ya from a mile away.”
You frown. “That’s so mean!”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he drawls, sighing. “It’s just that you smell like me, now… It stands out.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” You stick your tongue at him, looking up at him with your hands on your hips. In the moonlight, he’s even handsomer than usual in that weirdly rugged way that only he can pull off. “Can we go back inside the tent now? I’m exhausted after the entire...”
“Fuckfest?” he offers with a tricksy grin.
“Shut it!” you chide before you shove your phone’s flashlight right into his face as punishment.
Back inside the tent, you don’t have any sort of trouble with undressing yourself in front of your best friend this time. Your hoodie and t-shirt are tossed off, leggings following soon after — until you’re curling up against his strong chest in nothing else but your socks and underwear.
His body temperature isn’t nearly as hot as it was before, but the skin on skin contact provides you with enough warmth to be comfortable as you turn around to face him.
Kiba’s hair is mussed and his eyelids are already hooded with upcoming sleep when he lifts them just barely enough to look at you. The rut really has taken a toll on him; on the both of you alike.
“What is it now?” he mumbles lazily.
“Do you think,” you start, swallowing hard. “Do you think that we’re going to be okay?”
He smiles, the quirk of his lips faint. “I know we will.”
“And our friendship?” you ask, pressing your palm against his chest. “Do you think all of this is going to ruin it?”
“Nah, I think it’s goin’ to make it even better,” he says, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he settles back. He yawns, rubbing his eye as he mutters, “Besides, we’re gonna take it slow. Just like you’ve said.”
“And you’re fine with that?” you ask.
“‘Course I am,” he replies sleepily.
“Why?”
“Because you’re important to me,” he says. “So if you want to go slow, we’ll go as slow as goddamn snails if we have to.”
You let out a little laugh that sounds like wind chimes to him. “You’re so lame.”
Kiba grins, his heart fluttering at the sight of your smile. “Not as lame as you.”
And maybe, just maybe, going steady and experiencing peace for a change isn’t so bad either.
tags: @his-sweet-minx @rookie98writes @qichun @redskyvenus @simply-chillin-here @shanjisan
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glocodile · 2 years
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Owl House is really nice
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emo-batboy · 1 year
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Battinson being a complete child magnet.
He is so done with being a CEO with Responsibilities and would rather just hang out with his neighbors' kids and play with legos or color or some shit, and kids are incredibly perceptive to this.
They can tell when an Adult isn’t an Adult Adult. And Battinson is barely an Adult in any right. At best, he’s an angsty teenager in a 28yo body. So when they see him on the street looking like he would rather be watching cartoons than go to work at nine in the morning, they just run up to him and say, “Wanna see the chalk art I made?!” or “What’s your favorite animal? Mine’s a porcupine :)” and their parents do not understand why.
They just can’t grasp how every single child has decided that Bruce is their best friend. They try to stop their little rascals from walking up to Bruce Wayne who probably has places to be at any time of day, but Bruce just goes with it because of course he wants to see their chalk art. It’s better than going to Stupid Meetings.
He is happy to follow some random toddler who grabbed his hand and won’t stop babbling on about nonsense. Some kid wants him to join their tea party? Bruce is honored. He will never turn down the opportunity to play hide and seek with the family across the street.
Bruce gradually becomes the parent/older sibling/friend type for like every single child in Gotham. He is the Go To Babysitter for like half his block (but if we’re being honest, it’s really Alfred. Bruce is just the playmate yk?) Every kid at school is soooo jealous of Dick because his dad is that cool rich guy that buys everyone ice cream at the park and braids their hair on Career Day and will sneak them candy from the top shelf when their parents aren’t looking.
He just has that EnergyTM with kids. Bruce is not a guardian figure. He’s one of them. He’s their imaginary friend come to life. He is an Adult Child, and he has money to spend, and he knows exactly how they feel, and he is completely down to making a castle out of marshmallows instead of Doing Work.
Then one day, some middle schooler meets Batman, gets the exact same vibe from him, and goes, “Wait a minute.”
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steddielations · 10 months
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“Evening, sir.”
It’s the Harrington boy. Again.
“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.
Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.
“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.
“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”
He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—
“Like Ed?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”
“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.
“The Colts win?”
Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”
It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.
Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.
His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.
Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.
His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.
Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.
Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.
His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.
The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.
Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.
It worked until all this mess.
That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.
‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.
That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t go get his boy.
So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.
“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.
Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.
It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.
Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.
“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”
Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”
That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.
Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.
“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.
“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”
“Oh, I can use a diff—”
“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”
Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.
Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.
“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”
As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.
Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”
Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.
“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”
Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”
It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.
“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.
Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.
Read the rest on Ao3
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sat0ru-types · 4 months
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Confessed feelings.
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Summary: Toji comes over to pick up Megumi and Tsumiki, two children he loves deeply, but after a conversation they had at the park y/n goes home and pours her a cup of wine only to be interrupted by a knock on her front door.
Warnings-cursing, THE NASTIEST smut, and Toji because he is a warning himself
(Tojixreader) first person reader.
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He’s so cold; despite the sly smirks and head nods every morning in the office, he doesn’t pay me any mind, and how I wish he fucking would.
For a while I’ve wanted him and only him, but he’s married with two kids, well he WAS married. His second wife sadly passed shortly after Megumi was born, yes Toji was married twice, his first wife he met during high school, and he had unconditional love for her, creating their first child Tsumiki. unconditionally, yet soon she passed, leading him to his second wife, to which he took her name.
But I always asked, how he could skip over me twice..I made it obvious that I cared deeply for him, but the feeling was never reciprocated.
Was it her body? Or was it merely her soul, I didn’t know much about her, but Toji, usually chill and quiet, wouldn’t shut up about her, especially his second wife, he loved her deeply, both of his wives that is.
But, once they passed he instantly distanced himself from anyone else only focusing on his children, and how could anyone blame him?
So I didn’t, and I still don’t, and ever since Megumi was born along with Tsumiki, I have always helped them, always watched them when I wasn’t going into the office and never complained never, the kids weren’t bad at all.
But it’s Toji, I want him, so bad, it aches my heart, he’s still cold towards me, any conversation about love he changes the subject instantly, he doesn’t care for love, and I’m starting to think, maybe he’s done with the whole concept, but honestly just being able to see him made me happy.
I dance to the music making lunch for the children that I was watching today me using my off day to be a free baby sitter but I didn’t care not a single bit, Megumi walks in the kitchen a blank stare following with him, he then makes his way over to me pulling on my apron getting my attention easily.
“Gumi? Why aren’t you watching cartoons?” I asked flipping the burger putting the spatula down picking up the boy, “I got bored.” He said in his normal monotone manner, I hum walking to the living room with him, hearing Tsumiki’s feet patter behind me “I’m bored tooooo can we go to the park!” She asked while I put her brother down, “your dad is coming over for lunch, maybe after we eat we can go,” I say patting her head causing her to giggle adorably.
Megumi blinked before calmly saying “I don’t wanna go to the park,” he then pointed to the door “I want icecream..” he insisted staring dead at me, he was a very quiet kid and always kept to himself, he was also very demanding but a gentleman just like his dad.
Tsumiki whined “that isn’t fair! I asked to do something first!” She said stomping her foot to which he shot her one of his blank stares as if he didn’t understand her attitude. “Okay then..why don’t we just do both?” He asked looking at me for approval. “I don’t see why not..” I said shooting them a kind smile.
“but I do want you two to eat lunch first I’m making burgers..” I say, causing Tsumiki to do a happy dance, “I love burgers!” She insisted to which Megumi just shrugged “I’ll eat it” he said causing me to nod “damn right,” before getting up pointing to the couch “just watch SpongeBob until I finish cooking please,” I asked the two kids hopping up on the couch watching the tv.
“Who lives in a pineapple under the sea! SpongeBob square pants!”
The tv sung causing the two kids to sing along, I make my way over to the kitchen again flipping the patty just in time.
After a few minutes I make the two plates “cmon you too foods ready your dad should be here to pick you two up soon, he texted saying he’ll be a little late but that was 2 hours ago..” I say putting the two plates on the counter top Megumi and Tsumiki to run over jumping up on the barstools by themselves instantly digging in.
I giggle at their expressions “good! It’s really good!” Said Tsumiki with a full mouth,” Megumi of course just shooting me a thumbs up as he ate. “I’m glad to hear it! Eat up you two,” and so they ate the room consisted of giggles and complaints from Megumi because his sister was smacking.
“Come on you two don’t start, Miki please chew with your mouth closed it’s unladylike to chew with your mouth opened..” Tsumiki smiled her mouth full of food before saying “I know I’m doing it to make him mad,” she said with laughter causing Megumi to grimace in annoyance, “well don’t because your brother isn’t bothering you,” I add, and she just stops nodding her head eating her food.
I prepare Toji’s plate before hearing a knock on the door, causing Tsumiki to yell “daddy!” She yells jumping off the barstool Megumi just turning looking at the door as I walk over opening it.
There he was, the tall muscular man peering down at me his expression immediately changing from stole cold to soft once he saw his daughter run to him “heyyy princess! You have fun today with [name] ?” He asked kissing all over the girls face causing her to playfully screech and giggle. “Of course I did! We wanted to know if we could go to the park and get icecream?”
Toji smiled “of course we can..” he said putting her down “thanks for watching them they adore you..” he said the scar on his lip turning upwards as he smiled softly at me, “you know it’s never a problem..” I insisted with a soft smile.
He glanced over at his son “hey son! You had fun?” He asked to which Megumi nodded with another shrug “my day was pretty average no complaints..” making Toji chuckle ruffling the boys hair “you never complain,” he complimented pecking the top of the boys head.
I grab his plate handing it to him and he takes it looking at it “you didn’t have to cook for me, did you even eat?” He asked to which I shrugged “I’m fine I know I can eat, you’ve been working all day just eat the burger,” I insisted but he simply handed it back “sit down and eat.” He demanded resting his elbows on the counter top “you’re gonna want to anyways if you’re going to the park with us,” he said looking at the food then at me with his deep blue eyes.
I fight the heat rising in my cheeks before sighing “but I made it for you,” I say with pout to which he thinks for a bit, looking around the kitchen before going to the drawer pulling out a knife cutting the burger down the middle, “now eat..” he said again, and without thinking I was sitting on the barstool picking up my half biting into it, and it indeed was very good.
I hum nodding and he chuckles “I dunno why you didn’t just make you a burger too?” He added picking up his half “because I ran out of meat and I wanted you to eat,” I say covering my mouth.
Toji shrugs “yeah but you have to worry about yourself before me, this is your house,” I look up at him still chewing before I turn my attention to the burger, I’d rather have him eat before I do, and he wouldn’t even notice my love for him.
“Are we going to the park or not..” said Megumi while he pulled on his shoes and jacket making Toji laugh a bit “yes can [name] eat before we go sir, last time I checked I’m the one driving,” Megumi sighed sitting down “take your time,” Toji mumbled to me ignore the complaints of his son.
After we ate we all got into the car and drove to the nearest park, “stay close don’t go wandering anywhere but near the park,” he instructed sternly to the two as we all got out of the car, “we’ll be right here he said while me and him walked to the metal bench his hands swiftly in his pockets while the kids ran directly to the swings.
Toji lets out a tired sigh taking his hands out his pockets leaning forward his elbows resting on his thighs, his eyes closed, he worked all day and still made time to come to the park with his kids, he really was a good dad even if he was away so much.
“Maybe you should have let me take them, you need to rest you workaholic,” I say watching the kids, Toji grumbles lifting up slowly his eyes still closed as he leaned back, “they need to get some fresh air once in a while, so do I..so I don’t mind that much..” he says softly.
I think for a bit before tapping my thigh, him opening one eye to look at me, “what? It’s just laying your head down..” I say blinking and he just sighs “you’re so naive..” he mentions closing his eyes again leaning his head down on my thigh kicking his foot up on the bench letting out a slow breath.
“What changed your mind..” I say softly looking down at him, “why can’t I be naive too..?” He questions relaxing his body with a soft chuckle. I smile burying my hands in his hair “a little too late for that huh..?” He asks turning his head to look up at me, his dark blue eyes piercing me.
I blush turning my head a little causing him to just laugh some more closing his eyes again, I think for a bit it’s now or never, “Toji..?” I start hearing his muffled “hmm…?” I think for a bit before finally saying “why is it that you over look me so much..” the air around us grew quiet.
Toji sighed out that causing my heart to burn, did I annoy him? Was the question too vague? He didn’t give me anything he turned his head looking directly in my eyes, “can we talk about this later..?” He said making me tense a little “I’d rather talk about it while we have the chance” “then you’ll be disappointed because I don’t want to discuss this topic right now.” He said sternly shutting me up.
Yes of course I brought this topic up before, like I said I made my feelings clear, I never once stayed quiet about how I felt, to anyone.
I sit back looking up into the sky fighting back the tears..it was just like that day 8 years ago..I felt the same feeling he made me feel again, helpless.
After an hour Toji sits up “alright fuck it, I’m tired, kids! Let’s go!” He called the kids whining as they made their way to us.
I kept my eyes on the ground, debating before finally lifting my head when he motioned for me to get up, “I’m going to go home on my own, I know you don’t feel like dropping me off, plus I could use the walk..” I say with a pain filled chuckle.
Toji looks at me holding Tsumiki’s hand “[name] get in the car please..” he said looking at me “I’m fine Toji..” I say sharply and he just sighs “this is childish of you..” he insists taking his children’s hand.
“I could care less..” I say softly standing walking the other direction leaving him there with the kids, Megumi yelled after me “we were suppose to get icecream!” But I didn’t even look back my heart completely shattered to pieces.
I made it home around 6 pm flopping down on the couch, me even trying with him was useless and I knew that, I look at my phone finally noticing I had gotten a text from Toji.
Toji 💙 “I said I didn’t want to talk about it now, not ever, pick up the phone.”
I stare at the message, was I mad at him? For years of deflecting my love and causing me to turn away and be single for four years? I only want him, I only ever wanted him!
The thought of it pissed me off even more, what stopped him from talking about it when we were all alone? Maybe I was being selfish and a bit bratty?
I think for a bit before turning my phone completely off going to go shower. Once I got out I get dressed in my nightclothes, a silk pink tight fitted night gown that was easy to slide up when my thighs moved.
I sit in the couch with a glass of wine, debating if I wanted to turn my phone on or not. I take a sip of wine looking for my remote. The moment I found it and picked a show I heard a loud pounding if my door, I flinch looking at my door “who the fuck?!” I say loud enough for whoever it was to hear.
I swing the door opened ready to cuss out whoever it was out, but my anger had subsided when I saw Toji peering coldly at me, I quickly cover myself a bit when I saw him looking down at me the kids by his side, I back up opening the house to them in silence.
I close the door rubbing my arms grabbing my cardigan off the coat rack, putting it on, “hey Gumi! Hey Miki..” I say softly Miki rubbing her eyes and Megumi stared blankly. “You owe me icecream..” he said causing me to giggle.
“Kids why don’t you go in my room, Megumi you pick a movie between both of your votes,” they look at Toji and he nods giving them the okay, once we hear the door close Toji looks at me and I keep my eyes on the ground.
“You had me worried,” he started wasting no time, “sorry..” I say in a tone that said I wasn’t really sorry at all, Toji huffed placing his hands in his pockets “don’t be childish [name] you know my situation,” “and I don’t pretend not to! But come on Toji! It’s been 8 years and between that you’ve married twice!” “Keep your voice down, I’m not yelling at you.” He said sternly making me shake my head.
“It’s a lose lose with you,” “I could have told you that,” he said smartly with a grin, I make my way around my granite counter being fed up, “fuck this, talking about this situation is useless..” I say opening the fridge, “I told you that, but no, you wanted to talk so bad then talk, I didn’t waste gas for nothing,” he said crossing his arms.
I roll my eyes grabbing a water bottle, “I tell you the same thing over and over Toji, do I really have to repeat it?” He sighed “no you don’t, I know you have feelings for me..and I don’t over look them” “yes you have for 8 years..” “that isn’t it..just fuckin’ listen..” he scolds while I open my water.
“You have something going on for yourself [name] why throw all of that away for me? Anyone who has ever been in love with me has died or left, I guess I’m being selfish because, I don’t want any of those things to happen especially not to you, the kids adore you, and I hold you close to my heart even if I don’t show it, all I wanna do is protect you and make sure you have a good life..”
I listen to his words, they instantly start to warm my heart, I hum placing the bottle down “thank you for telling me..” I say and he sighs “you still don’t believe me?” “No no, I do! It’s just that..I didn’t exspect to hear that at least not from you, I’m happy with it,” I say with a smile causing him to smile softly.
Toji let’s out a deep breath, “you can stay here tonight, it’s about to storm and I don’t want you driving in the rain with the kids..” I suggest Making a cup of coffee for him, Toji walks around the counter grabbing a cup for his coffee.
“I’ll hold you up on your offer,” he said smiling down at me making my entire face heat up, everything about him made my heart race, I was obviously upset earlier but now I don’t feel a inch of anger, his tall muscular figure standing right next to me almost made me have a panic attack.
“I should go change into something more appropriate..” I say pouring his coffee in the mug and he shrugs “for what? You already have a cardigan covering everything..” he added grabbing the sugar and creamer.
After he quickly drunk his coffee we talked for a while “I always thought maybe I wasn’t pretty enough..” I say fiddling with the ends of my hair Toji leaned down elbows on the counter “I don’t care about looks, but you aren’t ugly at all,”
I smile pushing my shoulder into him “did you just call me pretty,” “ I said you aren’t ugly..” he said sticking his tongue out at me, I giggle at his rude come back “well you don’t look that bad yourself” Toji looks at me lifting back, his waist pressed on the stove, “I know..” he said pridefully.
I giggle shaking my head, “I should go check if the kids are asleep,” Toji shrugged “okay? What if they aren’t then you just invited them out here,” he said causing me to laugh quietly shaking my head “I’m assuming you need a break?” “Oh so you assumed that?” “From the looks of it yeah..” Toji chuckled.
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I lift up to stand next to Toji, staring up into his eyes, he cheekily looked to the side “you don’t know what you’re doing staring up at me like that..” I blink tilting my head “like what?” I ask, Toji meets my gaze again, “like you’re innocent..though your eyes tell me exactly what you want,” I blush, did they really?
I’ve always wanted Toji, but now I really craved his touch, I wanted him now more than ever actually, everything in my body wanted him, I hug myself looking at him, “well what do I want Toji?” I say still keeping my innocent act.
Toji smiled softly “alright..I’ll play your little game..” he teased, before shifting leaning down so he was right in front of my face at my level, he leaned in his lips inches from mine making my body tense “and I’ll win..” he said his eyes lustfully low as he eye fucked me.
I shiver returning the same lustful eyes, why would I ever miss this opportunity..?
Toji tilts his head looking at my lips a small smirk on his face. I can’t take it, not anymore after years of never being this close to the man I craved, of course I got greedy..
Instantly I leaned in but I felt him lean in as well our lips crashing together he hummed softly his voice low and sexily raspy as he did so. I whimper when I feel his hands wonder my hips guiding my body up against his, my heart was pounding out of my chest from sexual excitement, I was certain he could feel it.
He pulls back smirking at my reaction my tongue resting on my bottom lip I lean in again sliding my tongue across the scar on his lip making my lips wrap around his bottom lip sucking on it softly before I feel him lift me up with ease, setting me on the counter sliding his way between my thighs pulling me closer to him.
I shiver feeling the cold counter touch my skin wrapping my legs around his waist as we continued to make out my cardigan sliding down my arms as if it were moving out of the way, Toji kissed down my cheek to my neck his hands grabbing at my gown that the cardigan failed to cover.
He hums kissing back up my neck his hands sliding up the sides of my body making me choke back another groan, Toji lifted his head lifting my chin so I was looking in his eyes, “you might be fuckin’ with something you’ll get lost in..~” he said with a smirk.
I groaned scooting closer so I could feel some sort of friction on my covered clit, my body felt like it was on fire, we were so close, closer than we’ve ever been. Toji placed his hands on my lower back pushing me into him, “I’m guessing you don’t care huh princess..?~” he teased kissing my head softly.
I shake my head squeezing my thighs around him “please just fuck me Toji..~” I whine out my eyes locked on his lips, I watch them turn upwards into a smirk before I feel those same lips peck my shoulder pulling the strap of my gown down my arm.
His strong hands feeling so soft against my aching body, he fondled my breast through the silk gown sucking on my neck now, making me whine as I lean my head to the side to give him better access sliding my hands up into his shirt, biting hard on my lip as I feel his abs graze against the palms of my cold hands warning them up.
Toji hummed softly grabbing my wrist sliding my hand down to his sweat pants that perfectly complimented his growing print. I shiver at the heat causing Toji to chuckle softly, “ah, I see..you don’t like being teased do you princess?~” Toji asked sliding his hand between my thighs, my gown pushed up as I open my legs a bit so he could touch me, that’s what I wanted him to do instead of all this teasing..
He glanced at me with his deep ocean blue eyes, before softly pushing the pad of his big thumb against my pulsing clit.
I grab into his forearm my body hitching at the sudden interaction, he rubbed in slow up and down motions the sounds my clit made through the underwear made me blush, the sudden squelching and squishing it made caused Toji to lift his finger, it glistened in the light covered in my juices.
“Mm..” he hummed “you’re sensitive hm..?” He asked burying his hand between my thighs again sliding my panties to the side, cold air hitting my hot clit, I let out a shaky breath opening my legs wider when I see him crouch down forcefully pulling me closer to his lips and without warning he planted a soft kiss on my outer lips.
My shoulders jump as I look down at him with a bruised lip from biting it so hard, “keep your voice down..” he warns his command muffled before he slid his tongue against my already wet folds teasingly, I let my mouth hang open letting out a deep sigh my head falling back.
He sucked and teased my clit with the warm rapid moving muscle, causing my legs to shake, he was so good at it, I could see why he had two kids,
His hands wrapped around my thighs with passion holding me still with force because of the constant squirms and quiet yelps from him teasing my dripping hole with his flexible tongue.
Finally he plants one last gentle kiss on my harden Bud before he lifts his head, his chin glistening from my juices, “mmm..” he hums out licking his lips, pulling me closer to him me being a panting teary eyed mess, he grabs my chin “open..” he mumbled causing me to open my mouth.
Toji pushed his tongue in my mouth holding the back of my head gripping a clump of my hair as he did so, I taste how I tasted on his tongue as I sucked on it wanting him even more now, and he smiles his tongue in my mouth as I began to bob my head pulling back slowly looking up at him, my innocent eyes being taking over by lust.
I slide my thumbs in the waistband of his sweats, trying to pull them down and he watches me letting me pull them down a bit before he helped me “needy little one hm..?~” he cooed in my ear pushing his huge bugle against my bare clit.
“Toji..please..~” I beg wrapping my legs around him “if you keep begging like this I can’t promise I’ll be gentle..” he said kissing my head lovingly, I look up at him and he instantly meets my gaze “don’t be..” I insist, he lowers his eyes a bit before pulling my head towards his kissing me roughly his fingers getting locked in my hair and I shove my tongue in his mouth.
He wrestled my tongue while with one hand pulling his dick out of his boxers, I pull back a strand of saliva connecting to our lips, once it breaks I look down at his length, it was so pretty, and huge.
The tip oozed with precum, I shiver listening to him chuckle softly, as he strokes his dick with on hand pulling me closer and up off of the counter a bit, “hold onto me..” he whispered and of course I listened wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face into his neck.
I feel the tip of his cock pierce my hole and finally he thrusted his hips up, my ass pressed firmly against the edge of the counter before lifts me off completely wrapping his arms around my thighs holding me up, my figure being so small pressed up against his huge body.
I gasp into his neck clawing at his shoulder as he softly sighs “you..haa..~ you have to loosen up a bit princess..” he said as my walls only continued to squeeze around him, yet that didn’t stop shit.
Toji thrusted all the way inside of me tilting his head against mine, he pulled back slowly then pushed back in, and once he felt it was easier he started to gain speed the sounds my pussy made while it squeezed around him made me feel so embarrassed.
It was calling for him as much as I was, and he was listening.
Toji thrusted faster making my body shiver under his touch fucking every inch of my brain to mush. I burry my face into his neck “fuuuuuck! T-ah!~” I screamed out into his neck trying my hardest to keep my voice down but he of course didn’t make it easy for me.
He puts me on the counter again slamming into me holding me close as he did so, not even trying to quiet me down not even the slightest. With each thrust came a squeal and a low raspy groan.
My walls accepted every inch of him with pure bliss my pupils disappearing as my eyes rolled back from the abuse my uterus was receiving. Toji slowly pulled out panting making my body hitch “wait no don’t-“ I whine not wanting him to stop getting so close to finally cumming. Toji walked around the counter with me still in his arms before he placed me on the couch flipping me.
His strong hand pushing my head into the couch my back arched, Toji wasting no time simply used his thumb to push my ass cheek out of the way to get a clear view of my pussy, before pushing his cock into me from behind, causing me to instantly tighten up earning a grunt from him. Toji held my hips pounding into me without hesitation.
I grip onto the couch cushion my mouth remaining opened from the gasp I let in as he fucked me from behind receiving continuous strings of moans from me I reach back and he simply intertwined our fingers tightly rolling his hips perfectly stroking my gspot with no problem at all, making me wince the feeling of climax growing strong making the knot in my stomach uncomfortable.
I jerk my hips back making Toji tighten his grip on my waist pulling me back whispering in a hoarse tone “don’t run..~” digging his nails into my waist as punishment. “Shit shit! Fuck! I can’t..!” I moan out shaking my head repeatedly and he just continues to thrust ignoring me.
Toji lifted me back into him by my neck rubbing his hand down my stomach holding it there as he sucked mercilessly on my neck causing many bruises on my neck, while we sat up on our knees making him pound into my Gspot even more now, the sound of heavy panting and skin slapping filling the room causing an echo.
I feel tears roll down my cheeks as he fucked me senseless feeling him touch me in ways my head couldn’t wrap around made my thoughts completely disappear, the only thought that remained was that; I couldn’t wait to cum.
Toji slid his hand up into my gown pinching my nipples gently and tugging on them as he thrusted far up into my core making my walls sore from the constant abuse it withstood. He grunts his teeth clenching him baring a fang, “I’m cumming..~” he warned making me pant shaking my head, “don’ttt..mh! Don’t pull out..” I happen to get out.
Toji smirks kissing my ear tenderly before letting out a shaky breath saying “didn’t plan on it..” sucking on my earlobe, making my entire body shiver I was completely at my limit and overwhelmed as he pushed me back down into the couch slamming it all into me, every last inch.
I bite hard on my lip to fight back the loud screams I so desperately wanted to let out reaching back to claw at his thighs as he grunted out with each thrust, finally he slammed into me once more holding my hips against his as his cum oozed into me, he leaned down placing a kiss on my head.
Finally after some time he pulls back looking down at the mess we created. I pants rolling over holding both of our cum, “Toji..” I hum out and he smirks down at me saying softly “let it out..mama..” he purrs.
I laid there a complete mess panting as I cover my mouth releasing everything felt so, Good.
After a bit I sit up completely sore and tired. “So..” he starts rubbing my hair that was plastered onto my forehead from sweat back into the rest of my hair as I looked up at him tiredly, “was it worth waiting eight years for..?” He asked with a mocking smirk.
And it was, I nod my head feeling my mind turn fuzzy thinking if I stayed up any longer I might pass out, he chuckles kissing my head.
“I know..” he said cockily with a teasing grin.
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heaartzforcupid · 8 days
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Hi uhm sorry for being disgusting but can you do big boy Dogday reacting to his (submissive) angel saying "I love you" and just ranting about how she can't live without him during their first time and getting a bit emotional toward the end? Thank you... :3c
A/N: Yayyy!! my first request that’s not from a friend ! you aren’t disgusting? I actually think this is so sweet.
“First times.”
Relationship(s): Dogday x bat!reader
Warnings: smutt, virgin, emotional at the end.
Dogday and you were friends. close friends some would say. very close friends. so close that you’d often find yourself clinging to his side or him putting his hand in the small of your back, whispering sweet nothings to you as you both watched the kids play.
Dogday loved you. you loved Dogday. but neither of you would ever ever say it aloud. so imagine how you both felt when the higher ups, put you two together as a couple in their show? both of your faces were tomatoes. You even asking how that idea occurred ? one of the many producers stating simply, “you guys were made for one another. we’ve been planned this, that’s why you were made, silly?” ouch. that kinda hurt to hear but still, you could watch yourself be with the love of your life even if it was a cartoon.
Dogday had asked you to meet him at his home which he called, “bone”. you always laughed when you remembered the name is his house. your house wasn’t that far from his so you walked. you finally came in sight of the door and took a breath, knocking. Dogday quickly opened the door, he looked abit scruffy and he was panting abit. you were abit taken back but you still stepped inside. he led you through the dark house, holding your hand. you finally made it to the kitchen and he smiled as you looked over everything he had done. he had made a candle lit dinner with one big bowl of spaghetti for you, both.
“I know it’s cheesy but—“ before he could even finish, you had started thanking him and took him a hug. he smiles softly, his gaze soft as he watched you. he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed. reassuringly. you both sat at the table and had begun to eat. you both were almost finished before you both slurped up the same noodle. you blushed at realizing. he had realized to and continued to slurp. you had gotten nervous and bit the pasta, breaking it. god, you had just ruined a chance of a kiss.
Dogday had stood up after you bit the noodle. he placed a paw on your cheek and softly rubbed. you both stared into one another’s eyes and he kissed you. soft and sweet. no lust , no anger, just pure love.
You were on your back as dogday slowly pushed his cock into you. you gripped the sheets as little tears pricked the corner of your eyes. he quickly took notice and stopped pushing his thick cock into you. he knew he was a big boy and he could tell you were a virgin so he waited, patiently. he tried to distract you, kissing and sucking down your body, his hands fondling your breasts.
After a few moments, you were ready again and Dogday made sure you were alright before he thrusted what was left inside. you choked out a sob and he silenced you with another kiss, pushing his thick hot tongue against yours. he gently began to fuck you, taking in each curve and the way your pussy tightened when he’d do a certain thing.
“fuck, baby, I love y—you so much, you’re — fuck, everything to me~!” you moaned out as dogdays balls hit the back of your plush ass. “c—couldn’t live without you, baby..~!”
Dogday had made you cum atleast 3 times before he stopped. he had tears in his eyes as he looked down at you. you quickly attempted to wipe his tears. “I—I’m sorry, Angel. I know I shouldn’t be crying right now.”
“No, no, it’s okay. what’s wrong? did I do something?” Dogday shook his head and held you close to his body as his knot swelled inside you. “hearing you say all those things.. just made me the happiest dog on earth.”
“oh Dogday ❤️” you laughed as you held him to.
A/N: not alotta smut I know , I’m sorry , I was at school when I wrote this. if you want a part two with more smut let me know, kay, pretty/handsome?
TAGS: @2faced-fairy
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hyenaa-euphoria · 26 days
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I hhave three questions, if I may!
Does DogDay in the red giant au like, attack anything that is alive/that moves, or not? Like, if someone where to give him food would he attack them or?? Sorry if this question is dumb lol
This sorta plays into the third question, but do you have any tips on how to draw the smiling critters?
Do you have any tips making a smiling critter oc? I'm really struggling with coming up for a design for my one, she always ends up lookin plain/boring :(
HELLOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
1 sort of…..???
He would rather snatch the food from your hand and forget about you than actually try to go after you!! It’s easy food after all!
And even if he did try attacking you, he can’t really so much, he has no strength left!
2 JUST ONE BUT YES
TEAR. BODIES.
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thats literally it. tear bodies. that how you can construct their bodies.. Play with that! Make different poses!
3 Of course! Here are some tips!!
NAMES-
Soo, i usually base my ocs on animal idioms, animal expressions, adjectives, etc. Here are some examples with meanings!!
Loan Shark
Moneylender who asks for a lot of money, usually illegally.
CashCow
Someone who makes a lot of money from a company
BusyBee
Someone who keeps themselves busy
KittyCorner
Diagonally opposite from someone or something
Sitting Duck(s)
Someone thats easy to manipulate, cheat or take advantage of
EagerBeaver
Someone who works very hard and enthusiastically
WholeHog
Do something to its fullest extent
GuineaPig
Person used as a subject for an experiment
Wild Goose (Chase)
Foolish chase for something unattainable
BlackSheep
Person who embarrasses a group for being different
One-Trick-Pony
Person with one great talent but doesn’t have much more to offer
Road Hog
Dangerous driver, someone who drives recklessly
TopDog
The most important person in a group
You can also take normal expressions that have certain words that sound like animal species! Take my oc as an example (Sir Bat-An-Eye.)
COLORS-
IF you are basing your little critter on a real animal, you could think, “Man, how do i make this little guy look more Smiling Critter-ish?”
COLORS!!
Take Bubba for example,
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He is an elephant! Elephants aren’t a bright blinding blue! Yet in a lot of cartoons they are represented this way because it is way more colorful! Sure to attract kids.
If it is an actual animal, search for some cartoon references of them! Maybe that can help!
Saturate the colors A LOT. Do you think kiddies would like an old, rusty, sad-beige-mom animal in their show??!?! Well- maybe…..🤔
But thats not the point! Make them bright! Make them pop!
Also, don’t always base them off of the animals ACTUAL colors! Give them different colors! If you want to make your alligator oc red because he lives in the depths of an erupting volcano then go ahead! If you want your parrot oc to be THE COLOR OF THE FUCKING RAINBOW then go ahead!! Who says they have to be the normal colors? Not me!
PERSONALITY AND ANIMAL CHOOSING-
Sooo… if you wanna be very picky like me.. then choose animals by how they would act in a society!
A hyena wouldn’t be nice! They would make fun of people, they would be rude!
A gazelle would be shy! They wouldn’t get their kicks from fighting!
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That kinda what i mean🤔
If you want an elegant Critter, look for animals that often represent elegance, like peacocks!!
WHAT THEY DO.
What would they do if they were caretakers in PlayCare? A therapist? A janitor? What do they teach? Think about that and maybe that will help you with their necklaces!!
If you need more help, ask away :p!!
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