#Listen the second to last one is kind of inspired by a fic I've been reading | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sattlersquarry · 8 months

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orange juice (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4 AU) Steve's world changes in the worst way when he loses you. He struggles to move on...but he learns he might not have to when he miraculously gets a second chance with you.

Word Count: ~8k

Warnings: 18+ PLEASE!!!! for language, death, grief, alcoholism, mentions of sex, mention of alcohol poisoning, and an allusion to a suicide attempt (in a miscommunication!!!! no one actually tried). the reader is presumed dead after the events of season 4. lots of angst and hurt/comfort with a happy ending bc if I ever wrote something without a happy ending my identity has been stolen. inspired by "orange juice" by noah kahan with some other references to his music sprinkled throughout.

a/n: i've been bouncing between this and bloom for the past few months and they are two very different fics tonally, but i hope you enjoy. please let me know if i missed any warnings because this one is kind of heavy.

🍊🍊🍊

ORANGE JUICE

MAY 1986

A ringing phone rouses Steve from a restless sleep.

A near-empty bottle of gin rests on the floor by his bed. He doesn’t remember drinking it, nor does he remember anything else from last night.

It’s been two months since you died. Steve’s not taking it well.

That horrible day, Steve, Nancy, and Robin ran from the Creel House and found Eddie and Dustin sobbing over you, your eyes lifeless and the wounds on your abdomen weeping.

I’m so s-sorry, Steve, Dustin had said through sobs. W-we tried to save her!

An aftershock of the initial gate-opening earthquake caused panic amongst their group. Steve wanted to carry your body back to the real world for a proper burial, but there was no time before the aftershock got much too intense. Dustin and Robin refused to leave the Upside Down without him. He wasn’t going to let them get hurt, so despite the fact it broke his soul in half to do so, he allowed his friends to drag him back to the gate in the Upside Down’s version of the Munson trailer, leaving you behind.

When the dust settled and reality set in that Steve was going to have to move on without you, grief overtook him. He turned to alcohol as a welcome distraction. He’s been consistently ignoring Robin’s desperate pleas for him to talk to a professional, to drink less, to try and really process his pain.

Steve should listen, but he won’t. Instead, he’ll grieve. He’ll wallow. He’d rather wither away into nothing than work on bettering himself, because you died and that’s not fair. To you, to him. To everyone who loves you.

Steve groans, a deep rumbling thing from deep in chest, as he stretches and rubs sleep out of his eyes. He blindly reaches for the phone on his nightstand.

“Hello?” he mumbles.

“Steve, hey.”

Steve sits up like a rocket at the tremble in Robin’s voice.

“Robin? Is everything okay?”

“Uh, kind of. I mean, yes! But no. Sorry, I just—can you come to Hopper’s?”

“What is it?” Steve asks. He staggers to his feet, getting tangled in the phone cord. “Is it Vecna? Shit, who did he take?”

“No one!” Robin says, voice way too high to be believable. “Please just come over when you can.”

Steve drives over to their basecamp at Hopper’s cabin, a million bad scenarios racing through his head. What if Vecna cursed Dustin? Or Nancy, or any of the others?

What if somehow he got El, and the Hawkins’ team was really doomed?

It takes Steve almost forty minutes to get to Hopper’s, due to earthquake damage and military roadblocks all over town. He raises his hand to knock on the door, but it swings open before he can.

Joyce smiles at him, but her eyes are mournful.

“Hi, Steve,” she says warmly. “Please, come inside.”

This isn’t what Steve expected. Hopper, El, Will, Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin are sitting on various chairs and couches in the cabin’s main room. Usually, it’s frantic around here: everyone running around with mixtapes, weapons, and crudely drawn maps of the town with markings where the most frequent monster attacks are. It’s never this still.

When Steve and Joyce walk in, everyone looks at him, sympathy in their eyes.

Steve’s first thought: Shit, is this an intervention?

Before he can ask, Hopper says: “The gates are closed, Steve.”

Steve’s mouth twists into a frown, heart pounding in his chest. That wasn’t the plan.

“Wait, what? How?”

“We’re not sure,” Joyce says. “But Will—”

“I can’t feel Vecna anymore,” Will explains. “And El checked this morning, and she found Vecna in the Void and…”

“He’s gone,” El says quietly. “Dead. Finally.”

Steve sinks onto a couch cushion. That should be good news. Steve should be celebrating, toasting to the death of the bastard that ruined his life and took you away by way of the demobats. But—

“We were supposed to go back,” Steve says. The back of his throat burns when he swallows hard, trying to choke down the sensation of nausea that’s either from his hangover or his panic. Or both. “We were going to go back and get Y/N’s body.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Jonathan says, looking down at his feet.

Steve whirls to Hopper, eyes blazing with a flash of anger that never seems to leave him these days.

“You promised!” he yells. “You promised that we’d go back for her!”

“I know,” Hopper says, keeping his voice even. “But something—or someone—killed Vecna in the Upside Down and the gates closed. The fight is done. It’s over.”

Steve’s lip wobbles. He won’t cry in front of them. He won’t. But his head spins.

“What am I going to tell her parents?” Steve says, voice cracking.

“You don’t have to do it alone, Steve,” Nancy says. She reaches a hand to touch his shoulder and Steve bats it away. “Steve—”

“This is such bullshit,” Steve snaps, turning to Hopper again. “If you had let me go back down there before, I could have brought her body back. We could’ve given her a proper funeral. Given her parents closure! But you made me wait!”

“It was the right choice,” Hopper says firmly. “I didn’t want to invoke another Vecna attack on Hawkins until we were ready to fight.”

“Maybe there’s a gate that we missed and—”

“We checked the gates this morning,” Robin says softly. “They’re all closed.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Joyce says. “But it’s over.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. He storms out of the cabin, ignoring Robin’s pleas to come back, to not be alone right now. Steve drives back home, not without stopping at the liquor store first and loading up on various spirits to numb the pain.

Over the next week, you go from declared missing to officially declared dead. Steve can’t let on to your parents that he had known for months, and Hopper doesn’t want him to tell them the truth about Vecna, demobats, and the Upside Down. It kills Steve to lie to their faces, to attend the funeral where they bury an empty casket, knowing what he knows. Knowing that your body is trapped in another dimension. Dead and alone.

🍊🍊🍊

NOVEMBER 1986

“Y/N wouldn’t want this.”

Robin’s words echo in Steve’s mind hours after she’s fallen asleep in the uncomfortable armchair next to his hospital bed.

An overindulgence forced Steve to spend his Thanksgiving in a hospital—not that he had any plans with his family to get ruined anyway. Although he had been invited to Thanksgiving with the Buckleys, Wheelers, Hopper-Byerses, Sinclairs, Hendersons, Mayfields, and Munsons, Steve declined every invitation. He resigned himself to a holiday alone without you, got heavy handed with a bottle of whiskey, and passed out in the neighbor’s lawn.

When he awoke, he was in the hospital. Joyce and Robin were there, the former fretting over him and the latter chewing him out for being such a dingus and scaring her so badly on a holiday.

Like a broken record in his head of the worst song Steve’s ever heard: Y/N wouldn’t want this. Y/N wouldn’t want this. Y/N wouldn’t want this.

Robin didn’t say it to be mean. She said it to get him to wake up. To cool it with the drinking, because if he kept going at the rate he was going, he’d meet a worse fate than a pumped stomach.

Joyce quietly reenters the room and smiles.

“Oh, you’re still up!” she says. “I thought for sure you’d try to get some sleep.”

Steve shrugs.

“I can’t stop thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up.”

Joyce settles on the chair next to Robin’s, ignoring the sleeping girl’s loud snores.

“When I can’t stop replaying the past in my mind,” Joyce says, “I try to think about my future instead. What are my aspirations and goals? What can I do differently to achieve them?”

Steve chews his bottom lip.

“Is it bad if I have no goals?” he says, feeling quite sorry for himself.

“Why do you think that is?” Joyce asks gently.

Steve shrugs again, before rubbing his eyes.

“Shit, I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve spent the past 3 years on edge thinking I’m going to get killed at any minute?”

Steve barks out a hollow laugh. “Or maybe it’s because 2 years ago I met someone who turned my life completely around, and she did get killed, and I wasn’t there to save her or be with her when she died. And I couldn’t give her or her parents a proper end and every time I close my eyes, I see her laying there. And I don’t know what my future looks like without her. I don’t even think I want one.”

Steve hates crying in front of other people. But when Joyce wraps an arm around his shoulders, he breaks down.

“It’s going to be all right, Steve,” she says. She squeezes him a little tighter. “I know it’s hard moving on from loss, but you do have a future. You have so many people that love you and are going to help you figure it out. And Y/N would want you to keep going. She’d want you to go off and do wonderful things.”

Joyce was right. If roles were reversed, Steve would want you to keep going without him. Not waste away and drink yourself into a coma.

Steve’s life is changing. And despite everything, things might be looking up.

🍊🍊🍊

FEBRUARY 1987

There is a beautiful girl in Steve’s bed and she’s touching him all the ways he likes to be touched—but he can’t even enjoy it because she’s not you.

He tries to clear his mind of all distraction. The girl with him—Molly—is very, very hot. And the feeling of her hands all over him should be sufficient to keep him focused on the moment. But his mind keeps wandering to you.

You were the last person he was truly intimate with. Sure, he’s kissed girls at parties. But that’s different than what’s happening now. Different than being in bed with Molly and her wandering hands, her gentle touches, her salacious whispers.

Steve thinks maybe he’s finally done it. Found a girl that can help him move on from you, the girl to help him feel whole again. To not feel so alone.

But then, overcome with sensation, Steve makes the worst possible faux pas in bed: he moans the wrong name.

Molly ceases kissing him.

“What did you just call me?” she asks, sitting up suddenly with narrowed eyes.

Steve sits up as well, resting against his headboard and floundering for a response that won’t make him sound like a douchebag.

“I just, uh, well—”

“Who is she?” Molly asks. She widens her eyes in horror. “Oh my god, are you seeing someone else? Am I ‘the other woman’?!”

“It’s nothing like that,” Steve rushes to assure her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just got caught up in the moment.”

“Caught up in the moment thinking of someone else when I was about to blow you!” Molly snaps. She stomps off the bed and grumbles as she pulls her jeans and sweatshirt back on.

“Wait, hold on!” Steve says. He struggles to put a pair of sweatpants on, hopping around frantically one-footed to pull them up as Molly grabs her purse and yanks open Steve’s bedroom door. “Please don’t leave, Y/N—ah, Molly!”

“Unbelievable!” Molly scoffs as she stomps down the staircase of the townhome Steve shares with three other students at the University of Indiana.

Molly gets to the front door but stops, whipping around to face Steve as he catches up to her.

“Who is she?” she demands. “An ex-girlfriend?”

“In a sense, yeah, but—”

“If you’re still so hung up on her, maybe you should ask her to blow you instead!”

Steve thinks about being an asshole. About letting the anger that simmers in his bloodstream 24/7 rear its ugly head. About snapping at Molly, telling her that yeah, totally, he’d love to get a blowjob from a corpse stuck in an alternate dimension.

But then Molly would feel bad and give him the pitying look Steve hates. So instead, he says, “Yeah, I’ll do that. See you in class.”

Molly huffs before giving Steve’s cheek a sharp smack! He doesn’t wince. Upset at his lack of reaction, Molly storms out.

Just as well. Remembering how the love of his life is dead is a real mood killer.

Steve rubs his forehead and heads to the kitchen. He eyes the six pack in the fridge. He hasn’t touched alcohol in three months. The temptation causes his hand to graze a beer can, but he quickly pivots to a cartoon of orange juice.

He chugs the drink before stalking up the steps to his room. Steve drops to his knees and blindly reaches in the dusty space under his bed. He grips the corner of a box and drags it to the middle of the floor.

Once opened, two black button eyes stare back up at Steve. It’s Lambchop, a stuffed animal lamb that your parents gave him. After your parents held a small funeral and buried that empty casket, they gave Steve this box of your things.

Lambchop here was her favorite toy, your mother had said at the time, eyes glistening with tears. She always hoped to pass it on to her own children one day. I think she’d want you to have it.

Steve thanked your mother and father, gave his condolences, went home, drank enough whiskey to fell a horse, and passed out.

Shaking himself out of the memory, Steve climbs onto the bed and places the lamb on the pillow next to him. It’s one of few connections to you that he has left, so he’ll cherish it, even if it’s a little silly.

What Steve doesn’t realize is that in another dimension, the very person he’s yearning for lays in the version of her bedroom created by the Upside Down, holds a dirty version of Lambchop, and yearns for Steve right back.

🍊🍊🍊

MAY 1987

You and Steve used to have your futures mapped out: start at U of I together in fall of ’86. Move in together after your freshman year of college. Get engaged by fall of ’89, married in fall of ’90, and have two kids by ’95. Spend the rest of your lives together, happy and healthy, with the horrors of Hawkins far behind you.

That was before Steve’s world changed in the worst way. Before you died in the Upside Down, when you drew the bats away from the gate. You were a hero, trying to keep them from flying into your version of Hawkins and destroying it.

Steve struggled for a long time. He’s still struggling, but in a slightly better place.

He’s sober six months now. He thinks of you often, but he tries to focus less on how he desperately misses you and more on how you wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life miserable and drunk.

But he does miss you so, so desperately. And he would give anything to have you back.

It hurts being reminded of you, so Steve stays away from Hawkins. But he can’t say no when Mrs. Henderson invites him to Dustin’s sweet sixteen birthday party, so he makes the trek back.

“Steve!” Mrs. Henderson coos, opening the front door with a beaming smile. “Welcome!”

“Hi, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve says. She pulls him into a hug and he adds, “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s so lovely to see you too!” Mrs. Henderson says. She leads Steve through the house. “Please, come in! You can put Dusty-Bun’s gift on the dining room table. I have strawberry wine in the kitchen—ah, and orange juice, or lemonade. It’s yours if you want it!”

Mrs. Henderson pivoted to juice awfully fast. She must have found out about Steve’s Thanksgiving Break bender. Steve tamps down the feeling of shame worming its way through his mind and body, instead offering her another small smile before turning to the dining room to drop off Dustin’s gift.

Dustin and the rest of the Hellfire Club are in the den, playing a one-shot campaign that Eddie planned. When Dustin sees Steve, his face lights up.

“Steve! You made it!” he says, rushing over and giving him a bear hug.

“Hey buddy,” Steve says, hugging him back. “Happy birthday, Henderson.”

Dustin grins, and it lifts Steve’s mood immensely.

Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, and Erica greet him next, along with Eddie and his Corroded Coffin buddies. Eddie can barely look Steve in the eye, guilt from not being able to save you eating away at him. Steve’s told him multiple times not to feel bad about it—he knows Eddie and Dustin tried their best.

“Want to join the campaign?” Dustin asks Steve.

“Oh, I don’t know how to play,” Steve says. “I’ll just watch, okay bud?”

A short while later, Robin arrives. Once the campaign ends, Mrs. Henderson brings out the cake, and then gifts are opened.

“He looks really happy, huh?” Robin whispers to Steve, nudging him gently with her elbow.

Steve nods with a smile. Dustin took your death really hard—the two of you had been close ever since you helped him, Steve, Lucas, and Max fight the demodogs in the junkyard. Seeing Dustin smiling and laughing with his closest friends on his birthday makes Steve really, really happy.

Still, Steve’s heart aches. You should be here. You should be smiling as Dustin opens his gifts. You should be getting cake frosting on your nose, playing along with the campaign although you have no clue what’s going on.

Ice grips Steve’s chest. He gets a flashback of you lying on the cold ground, unmoving, and—

“You okay?” Robin whispers, brow furrowed. How the hell can she tell that he’s upset? It’s frightening how observant she is.

“Fine,” Steve says, throat tightening. He’s not. But he isn’t going to let his grief ruin Dustin’s big day.

At the end of the night, Dustin asks Steve when he’ll be back to visit again.

“My summer classes end in August,” Steve says. “I’ll come by then. Maybe we can hit the pool?”

Dustin seems disappointed that it’ll be a while before he sees Steve again, but he doesn’t push.

However, Steve ends up coming back to Hawkins much sooner. Three weeks after Dustin’s birthday party, Eleven calls Steve and tells him something that makes his heart stop:

“Steve, it’s about Y/N.”

🍊🍊🍊

Steve is a frantic mess.

He sits in the Byers-Hopper basement, knee bouncing as he intently watches El try to find you in the Void again.

El had told him that she’d sometimes look for you in the Void, hoping to give him some semblance of closure. However, she claims that a few hours ago, she finally found you for the first time and saw you not as a corpse, but fully alive. It’s a hope that Steve didn’t dare hold onto before, not until now.

As soon as she called, Steve got in his car and drove to Hawkins, going ten over the speed limit the whole time. He picked up Robin and Nancy along the way to El, Will, and Jonathan’s, and (unfortunately) Mike tagged along.

“Do you see her?” Steve asks, voice cracking.

“No talking, please,” El says, tightening her blindfold.

Steve purses his lips. Will gives him an apologetic smile and Robin squeezes his arm to offer a semblance of comfort. Jonathan looks between Steve and El, an uneasy expression on his face.

“I see her,” El whispers after a few minutes.

Nancy gasps. Mike’s eyes widen. Steve staggers to his feet.

“She’s okay?” Steve asks. “Where is she?!”

“I can’t tell,” El says. “But she’s holding a small, white fuzzy animal. Wait, is it dead?”

“Lambchop,” Steve says.

“Come again?” Nancy asks.

“Lambchop is her favorite stuffed animal,” Steve explains. His heart pounds in his chest at the realization that holy shit, you really are alive. “She must be in the Upside Down version of her house.”

“Y/N!” El calls. “Y/N!”

After a few more minutes of calling to you, El pulls off the blindfold and wipes her nosebleed away.

“She can’t hear me,” El says with a sigh.

“Maybe because the gates are closed,” Nancy offers.

“But if you open another gate,” Steve says, “we can get back through and find her. Right?”

“Hold on a minute,” Jonathan says, holding a hand up like a traffic cop. “Is that such a good idea?”

Steve narrows his eyes.

“Is it such a good idea to save my girlfriend’s life? Yeah, I think so, Byers.”

“Steve,” Robin whispers. “It’s okay. Just relax.”

“Relax?” Steve says, voice rising in volume with every word. “Relax?! You want me to relax? What about this fucked-up situation is relaxing! My girlfriend has been stuck in literal hell for over a fucking year! We’re going to rescue her, no matter what!”

“But opening a new gate could have major repercussions!” Mike protests.

“Screw the repercussions,” Steve snaps, glowering. “We can’t just leave Y/N down there to rot!”

“None of us want to do that, Steve,” Nancy says, keeping her voice level and calm. “But what if this is a trick from Vecna?”

“It’s not,” Will says. “If it was, I would feel his presence. I don’t anymore.”

“Boom!” Robin says, snapping her fingers. “If our human monster detector doesn’t sense any bad vibes, then we should be good to proceed.”

“Maybe we should ask El what she wants to do before we make any plans to open new gates,” Jonathan points out.

“Exactly,” Mike says. “El, what do you want to do?”

El looks down at her lap, before looking up. She locks eyes with Steve.

“I’ll do it. I’ll open the gate.”

Relief floods Steve’s whole being. He feels lighter. More hopeful than he has in a long time. But it all comes crashing down when—

“That’s not happening.”

The group turns to see Hopper and Joyce on the basement steps. Joyce looks worried, face twisted into a frown. Hopper looks angry, with his brow furrowed.

“But Dad—” El says.

“No buts,” Hopper says. “You are forbidden to open a new gate. You hear me?”

Joyce places a hand on her husband’s shoulder and says, “Now, Hop…”

Steve interrupts, walking over to the older man with a wild, panicked look in his eyes. “Hopper, please. Y/N is still alive in the Upside Down. We just need one gate so I can go through and bring her back. Please.” Hopper fixes Steve with a sorrowful stare, the smallest bit of guilt etched on his features. Still, he remains steadfast.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Hopper says. “I’m not putting my daughter at risk. She won’t do it.”

El, Robin, and Will all try to convince Hopper otherwise, their arguments overlapping into a cacophony. Nancy, Mike, and Jonathan share uneasy looks.

Steve can’t listen to this anymore. He quietly excuses himself, darting past Hopper up the steps and stepping into the backyard.

He sinks on the porch stoop and stares off into the quiet, cool night. He understands Hopper’s reasoning, but he doesn’t have to like it. He’s spent over a year mourning you, only to discover he might be able to get you back—for that hope to be dashed as quickly as it blossomed.

Steve picks a point in the tree line and focuses on it, putting all his energy into watching it so he doesn’t break down or cause any more of a scene than he already has.

He hears the squeak of the back door and Robin’s tentative, “Hey, how you doing?”

Steve shrugs absentmindedly, continuing to stare. Robin lowers herself onto the stoop next to him.

For a few blissful minutes, she doesn’t speak. She just rests her head on his shoulder and lets him stew in silence.

The spell is broken when she blurts out, “You’re not going to break your sobriety, are you?”

“Jesus Christ, Robin,” Steve grumbles, nudging her slightly so she’ll sit up. “You don’t have to ask that every time I’m in a bad mood.”

“Sorry,” she says. She picks at her fingernails. “Sorry. I just worry about you, you know?”

“I know,” Steve says softly. “I worry about you too.”

“Me?” Robin says. “No, no. I’m fine.”

Steve eyes the way her hands fidget. Before he can say anything, she blurts out, “I just don’t want a repeat of Thanksgiving. I mean, you almost died of alcohol poisoning. They pumped your stomach!”

“I know. I was there.”

“No!” Robin snaps, sounding awfully harsh despite the tears welling in her eyes. It breaks Steve’s heart to see. “You were unconscious! And it was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me, including all the torture and monsters, because I thought I was going to lose another best friend. I already lost Y/N. I can’t lose you too.”

She sniffles and Steve pulls her in for a hug. He can’t stop a few stray tears from falling down his own face as well.

“You won’t lose me,” Steve says, voice thick. “I promise, Robin. I’m not going to do that again. Okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbles, hugging him tighter. “I love you, dingus.”

“I love you, Rob.”

“That’s not fair,” Robin says, pulling away and wiping her tears on her sleeve. “You have to call me a mean nickname back or I just look like an asshole.”

Steve barks out a laugh and shakes his head.

“You are an asshole.”

“Perfect,” Robin says with a small smile. “Now we’re equally jerks. Just the way I like it.”

The back door opens and Will steps out.

“Hopper changed his mind!” he says with a grin.

Hope pumps like blood through Steve’s cold, shrunken heart. He’s going to see you again. Fuck, he’s going to see you again.

🍊🍊🍊

The next day, the group stands in the basement once more, this time making their plan for a rescue mission. Mike squealed to Eddie, Dustin, Lucas, and Max about what’s going on, and they all showed up wanting to help too.

“Not happening!” Hopper barks, a fierce look on his face. “New rule: you have to be 18 to come along.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, thrilled that he gets to come and try to make things right after losing you the first time. The younger teens grumble.

“But El is going!” Dustin complains.

“El is going to stay in the Lab with Joyce,” Hopper says. “She’ll open the gate for us and wait.”

“I can keep the gate open for one hour,” El says.

“That’s plenty of time to find Y/N!” Robin says brightly. “We already know she’s probably at her house.”

“And she lives close to Hawkins Lab,” Jonathan says, pointing to a map of Hawkins. “So we’ll be in and out.”

“It’ll be easy!” Eddie says.

“Don’t jinx it,” Hopper warns.

Nancy turns to Steve and pats his shoulder.

“You feeling good about this?” she asks quietly.

He nods. Although, truthfully, he’s terrified. If they come all this way, only for him to lose you again…he’s not sure he’d be able to handle that.

🍊🍊🍊

The Upside Down is not what Steve remembers.

The alternate dimension used to be dank and cold, like an endless winter’s night. Now with Vecna gone, it’s brighter, with a yellow sky and actual green foliage, not the moldy, dry shit from before. It seems less dangerous than last time.

No matter how much it’s changed, the thought that you’ve been here alone for over a year makes Steve’s blood run ice cold.

“This way!” Hopper barks, tracing his finger on his map of Hawkins and leading the group toward your house.

Jonathan and Nancy walk side-by-side with Hopper, glancing around at the tree lines constantly for any sign of danger. Eddie and Robin hang back, Steve walking slightly in front of them. He hears them whispering about something, but when he turns his head to try and listen, they quiet down.

He’s not an idiot. He knows what they’re worrying about: if they can’t find you, will Steve have another breakdown? Go on another bender? Would Steve even survive it?

Steve’s been wondering the same things himself. But for now, he stays positive, his optimism increasing tenfold when the six of them turn onto your street.

He can’t help but pick up speed, jogging past Hopper and causing the older man to snap, “Hey, stay behind me!”

Steve ignores his protests, shouting your name and pushing through the front door of your house.

He’s been here many, many times. He’s walked the pathway from your front door to your bedroom over and over again. Steve walks that path for the first time in over a year, charging up the steps and tuning out the concerned warnings from his friends.

He bursts into your bedroom, calling your name. He doesn’t see you, but maybe you hid when you heard the front door open. So he checks the closet, the ensuite bathroom, under the bed, to no avail.

Steve’s eyes sweep the space for any clues of your whereabouts. Most of the room seems untouched, except for your bed, where the sheets are rumpled and a grimy Lambchop the Stuffed Lamb sits primly on your pillow with her soft hooves crossed over her lap.

Steve picks up the toy, heart stuttering at the sight. You were sleeping here last night. You must have been. But where are you now?

“Steve!” Robin calls from down the hall, bringing him back to the present. “We found something!”

Steve gently places Lambchop back on the pillow—arranging her the way you always do, because anything else seems disrespectful—and heads back downstairs.

Hopper, Jonathan, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin are crowded around the kitchen table. On it is a sheet of paper with a rudimentary sketch of the town.

“Check it out,” Jonathan says. He traces his finger across the drawn lines. “It’s a record of where the gates originally opened.”

Sure enough, there are big stars drawn over Hawkins Lab, Eddie’s trailer, the road by the trailer park, Lover’s Lake, and the Creel House.

“That’s why she’s not here,” Nancy says. “She’s out searching for an opening.”

“We don’t have long,” Hopper barks, glancing at his watch with a grimace. “El can only keep the gate open for an hour. We have forty-one minutes to get back to the Lab.”

“We could split off into teams,” Nancy says. “Jonathan and I can go to Lover’s Lake.”

“Steve and I will hit the trailer park and the highway,” Robin adds. “Eddie and Hop, you can go to the Creel House.”

“We find Y/N,” Hopper says, “and we head back to the Lab. No wasting time. We move fast, we stay vigilant. Got it?”

The younger adults all nod and agree to stay on their walkies in case anyone needs to get in touch. Then, they split off to their destinations.

As Steve and Robin sprint toward the trailer park, Steve can’t stop panic from enveloping him head to toe. What if they’re too late? What if you’re dead—again? What if you don’t remember him somehow. What if—

“Look!” Robin says, throwing out an arm to stop Steve in his tracks. He skids to a stop and sees where she’s pointing.

Behind the closed curtains of the Munson trailer is the beam of a flashlight moving around. Steve’s heartbeat quickens.

“Okay,” she whispers as the duo slinks toward the trailer. “We need to think about this carefully, and make a plan to—wait, Steve!”

He charges into the trailer.

A figure flinches and whips around, hunting knife raised. Steve almost falls to his knees in shock at the sight. It’s really happening.

“Steve?” you whisper, voice cracking. He stands in front of you, hands raised and eyes flicking between your face and your knife. The corners of his eyes burn, tears starting to form.

He says your name, and the look on your face cracks his heart into seventeen pieces. He starts to step toward you, but—

“You’re not real,” you say quietly. “You can’t be.”

“No, I’m real!” Steve says. “It’s me, Y/N. It’s Steve. We’re here to take you home.”

You step back, still pointing your weapon at him.

“Don’t come any closer!” you shout.

“Okay, okay!” Steve says. He steps back, slowly.

“Steve!” Robin shouts from outside. “What’s going on in—”

“Stay outside, Robin!” Steve yells, voice wavering as he eyes your knife.

“But—”

Steve swiftly locks the trailer door without turning away from you.

The two of you ignore Robin’s knocks and protests. Eventually, she gives up, and Steve hears the crackle of her walkie-talkie.

“You can’t be Steve,” you say, shaking your head frantically.

“I am,” Steve begs. “And I’ve missed you so much—”

“You can’t be Steve because there’s no way into the Upside Down!” you say. He notices your arm start to shake. “Trust me, I’ve checked and checked and checked and there’s no gates anymore. And since my Steve isn’t a corpse at the Creel House, I know Vecna didn’t kill him and he’s back in the real world. If you’re not Steve, who the hell are you?”

Steve swallows hard. The back of his throat tastes acidic and he feels desperation wrench its way through every cell in his body. When he imagined his reunion with you, he didn’t anticipate this conversation.

“El reopened a gate for us,” Steve explains patiently. “We thought you were dead. But El looked for you and saw you were still alive, so we came to rescue you.” He glances at his watch and his brows furrow. “But we don’t have a lot of time. We need to head back to the Lab because she can’t keep it open forever.”

“How can I trust you?” you say. “How do I know you aren’t a trick?!”

“I’m really me, I promise,” Steve says. He hesitates before stepping closer to you once more. This time, you don’t move away. “We’re safe now, because Vecna’s dead.”

“I know. I killed him.”

Steve’s eyes widen a fraction.

“You what?”

“I had to,” you say. You shrug and look a little delirious. How much sleep have you gotten in the last year, Steve wonders. “Vecna brought me back. He would've flayed me and sent me to spy on and kill all of you if I didn’t kill him first.”

Steve almost falls over. The haunting fact that you had to fight Vecna alone makes his stomach turn.

The pained look on Steve’s face seems to shake something deep down in you. Any resolve you had crumbles. You heave out a sob, dropping the knife to the ground. Your knees buckle.

In seconds, Steve wraps you in his arms as you sink to the ground.

You cry, limp in his hold. Steve cries too, choking on encouraging words and apologies and everything he’s wanted to say to you since March 1986, when he thought he’d never speak to you again.

The door rattles. You startle and Steve holds you a little tighter.

“HARRINGTON!” Hopper barks. “Get a move on!”

“We have to go,” Steve says, urgent yet gentle. “We can talk more when we’re home. Okay?”

You nod, standing on unsteady legs.

Steve squeezes your hand before leading you out the door.

The whole rescue squad is out there, and you look wholly overwhelmed at seeing everyone after so long alone.

“No time for pleasantries,” Hopper says. “We’ve got less than twenty minutes to get through that gate.”

“Or it’s a slumber party at Y/N’s,” Eddie jokes. He playfully knocks his shoulder against yours and you gasp at the sudden contact. “Oh, sorry—”

“RUN!” Hopper yells, clapping his hands.

Everyone bolts toward the Lab. Steve and you run side-by-side, hands intertwined.

Shock envelops Steve’s senses, but he keeps running. The one thing racing through his mind is to get you back to safety.

The Lab’s gate is not the gaping maw it once was. It’s about the height of a minivan door, but its width is quite smaller—and slowly but surely shrinking.

El and Joyce stand on the gate’s other side, looking relieved to see everyone.

“Hurry!” Joyce says, waving you forward first. You hesitate, but Steve says, “We’re right behind you. Go on.”

You crawl through the gate and stumble to your feet on the right side of the universe. Steve would normally let everyone else go in front of him, but he wastes no time following behind you. Next comes Robin, then Jonathan and Nancy. Eddie and Hopper bring up the rear.

As soon as Hopper’s crawled through the gate, El drops her hand and it sews itself up—for the final time.

Steve and the others swarm you, all speaking too fast and asking a million questions. Joyce opens a first-aid kid and tries to sit you down and asses your various cuts and bruises. They hurt Steve to see.

“Look at her! She needs more than bandaids and alcohol wipes,” Eddie says, nodding in your direction.

“He’s right,” Jonathan says. “Mom, we need to take her to the hospital—”

“No!” you say. You stumble toward the staircase. “I need to go home. I need to see my parents, let them know I’m alive. How long have I been down there? I’ve been keeping track, and it has to be at least ten weeks, right?”

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. You look at him, eyes wild. “Y/N,” he says softly, “it’s been 15 months.”

That seems to be your final straw. Steve catches you as you pass out.

🍊🍊🍊

SIX HOURS LATER

While you get checked over by Dr. Owens and his people, Steve paces the hospital waiting room. Robin chews her thumbnail and watches the doors to the ER. Nancy and Jonathan bend their heads together and whisper, and Eddie attempts to distract Dustin and the other teenagers by juggling snacks from the vending machine.

After you fainted, Steve didn’t want to leave your side, but Hopper said everyone except himself and Joyce had to go home.

If our entire merry band shows up at Hawkins Mercy Hospital with a presumed-dead girl, it’ll look too damn suspicious, Hopper had said. Go home. Clean up. Wait three hours, and then you can come check on her. We’ll keep you updated.

In exactly 180 minutes, Steve and the others charge into the ER asking the nurse on duty about you.

“She’s still being looked over,” the nurse tells them. “Her parents and the Chief are with her now. You can wait over there and we’ll call you when she’s able to have visitors.”

Another 180 minutes go by. Now, everyone’s getting antsy. Steve has half a mind to charge into the ER and find you himself.

“Simmer down, Steve,” Robin says, noticing the way he’s squeezing the lilac teddy bear he bought you at the gift shop. “You’re choking the life out of that thing.”

“Why haven’t we heard anything from Hopper?” Steve asks. He checks his pager for the fiftieth time. “He said he’d keep us updated.”

“She’s probably going through a psych eval or something,” Max says.

“Or an interrogation,” Mike says darkly. “Maybe they think she had something to do with the murders last year.”

“Shut up, Mike!” Nancy hisses.

Steve curses and pinches his nose. Last year, a cruel man named Colonel Sullivan swept into Hawkins, searching for the real culprit behind Vecna’s kills after Eddie was proven innocent (thanks to a bogus alibi cooked up by Owens’ team). Steve was one of the unlucky few questioned, due to his connection as Jason’s former basketball captain. The thought of you, disoriented from so long in that shithole, handcuffed to a hospital bed while Sullivan grills you makes him see red.

Another sinking realization hits Steve: he’s changed since last year. What if you don’t like him anymore, once you realize how much of a mess he became when he lost you?

Hopper emerges through a set of double doors. Steve’s charging over to him in seconds, the rest of his friends piling behind and all talking at once.

Hopper holds up his hands to silence the group.

“Owens wants to run some more tests,” Hopper says. “They’re checking for contaminants in her bloodstream. You all can see her soon.”

He points at Steve. “Except she’s asking for you right now. You ready?”

Steve nods and squeezes your new teddy bear again. He gives Robin a panicked look, and she gives him a quick hug.

“Go get her,” Robin says with an encouraging smile.

Steve smiles back before following Hopper down the hall. Joyce stands outside your hospital room and smiles when she sees Hopper and Steve approach. Steve freezes.

Through the plane of glass in the door, he sees you with your parents. All three of you are crying.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” Steve says, backing away from the door. Before he can fully chicken out, Hopper bursts in and says, “Hey, look who came by.”

You and your parents look up. At the sight of him, your mother and father beam.

“Hello, Steve!” your mother says, sweeping him into a hug. “Can you believe she’s back?!”

“It’s a goddamn miracle,” your dad says, wiping tears on his sleeve. “We’ve been praying for this for so long.”

“Let’s leave these two alone to catch up,” Joyce says. “Grace, Roger, why don’t we pick up some food for Y/N?”

Your parents agree and step out with Joyce and Hopper. When it’s just you and Steve, all either of you can do is stare at each other with awkward smiles.

You clear your throat and point to the teddy bear.

“Is that little guy for me?”

“Yes!” Steve says. “Uh, sorry.”

He hands it to you. When your fingers brush, it feels electric. Still, after so long apart—no matter how much he’s dreamed of what it would be like if he somehow saw you again—everything feels stiff. You’re the love of his life and he can’t think of one thing to say.

“How have you been?” you ask quietly, seemingly just as uncomfortable as Steve.

Steve can’t help but laugh and says, “Terrible. I mean, shit. I know what you went through is way worse—”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you say sharply. Steve recoils and you wince. “I’m sorry, Steve. I just—I’ve been through this like five times with Owens’ guys, and over a cover story two more times with the cops. I don’t want to talk about me. I want to hear about you. What’s been going on?”

Steve wants to know more about what happened. About how you killed Vecna. About how you survived. But he doesn’t. He would never push you to discuss anything you didn’t want to, but he hopes that one day you’ll feel ready to open up to him.

Right now, you want to hear about his life. Where to begin. Steve thinks of sugar-coating the truth but doesn’t when he admits: “For starters, I almost died last year.”

You gasp and sit up a little straighter.

“What? Oh my god, what happened?”

“I’m fine now,” Steve says, waving away your concerns.

“Was it Vecna?”

“No, nothing like that. I really missed you, and I was in a bad place.”

You swallow hard, eyes turning glassy.

“Oh, Steve. Please don’t tell me you tried to—”

“No!” he says quickly. “It was alcohol poisoning. I drank too much being too lonely on Thanksgiving. Had to get my stomach pumped. It wasn’t all bad, though. Robin and I watched ‘A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving’ on the hospital room TV and Joyce snuck in some pie for me.”

You ignore his attempts and lightening the mood and wave him even closer to you. He cautiously approaches and intertwines your fingers when you reach for his hand.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I feel like it’s my fault—”

“Stop it.”

“Steve…”

“No!” Steve says. He shakes his head vehemently. “Don’t think like that. I just…struggled without you. But it’s not your fault that I’m a basket case.”

“You’re not a basket case,” you say. You squeeze his hand. “You’re the hero that crossed dimensions to come rescue me.”

You kiss his palm before scooching over on the hospital bed. You pat the spot next to you.

“What if your parents come back?” Steve asks.

“I’m not trying to hook up right now,” you say with an eye roll. “I just want you to lay with me.”

Steve is happy to oblige. He settles next to you. You rest your head on his shoulder and hug the teddy bear he brought you.

“So, you didn’t move on?” you ask quietly after a few minutes of peaceful silence. “Find a new girlfriend?”

“What?!” Steve asks, looking down at you, jaw dropped. “You really think I found someone else?”

You nod, fidgeting with the bow around your bear’s neck.

“15 months is a long time,” you whisper. “I don’t want to stand in the way if you're with someone else.”

“I couldn’t,” Steve says. He rests a hand on your knee cautiously. When you don’t flinch or move away, he keeps it there. “Y/N, I don’t want anyone else. I only want you, if you’ll still have me.”

You look up at him, noses practically brushing. The close proximity makes Steve’s cheeks flush rosy pink.

“You mean that?” you ask.

Steve nods. It seems to placate you, because in seconds, you’re lifting your chin to kiss him.

It’s a soft, gentle thing. An innocent brush of lips, like the kisses you shared very early in your relationship. Not the passionate “welcome home” kiss that Steve wants to give you, but he understands if you need to take things slow. He’ll move as slow as you need.

For the first time in months, Steve feels hopeful about his future again. Steve’s world is changing once more, in all the right ways.

🍊🍊🍊

EPILOGUE

You and Steve have your futures mapped out: after six months of physical and emotional healing, move in with Steve and join him at U of I in spring of ’88. Get engaged and subsequently married sometime within five years. No kids—at least, not biological ones, because your time in the Upside Down has caused lasting physiological effects that you don’t want to pass on to children. Maybe you’ll adopt a kid, or some dogs.

It's less of a map and more of an amorphous outline of what you two want to happen. All you two know for sure is that you never want to be apart that long ever again.

Steve’s heart and soul have changed, but they belong to you, and yours to him. Always.

🍊🍊🍊

a/n please lmk what you thought 🧡

tag list; @hollandweather @starry-eyed-steve @aloneinthehellfire @tvandfanfic @a-dealwith-god @stevebabey @keerysquinn @spoookysix @inkluvs

#st fic: oj #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic

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nolita-fairytale · 10 months

Text

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: june/july

summary: you and carmy plan a wedding like it's the opening of a new restaurant.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov

wc: 3.4k

listen to: let's get married (bleachers cover) - mitski

a/n: the long awaited wedding FIC!! welcome to part four of the 'make my heart surrender' universe (four part series). this takes place a month after the end of 'still into you' but before the carmy as your baby daddy headcanon series (my carmy masterlist is organized chronologically, if you'd like to read in order). anyways, i truly adore writing for these two and feel it important to note that after watching season 2, i've realized this has just become an animal of its own -- its own universe/timeline/entity which also means there AREN'T any SEASON TWO SPOILERS! this chapter was inspired by a conversation from two months ago between me and @carmensberzattos so courtesy of us, enjoy some healthy relationship-future husband!carmy. also don't worry syd will be starring in the next chapter. i missed her too. lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist.

masterlist | part two

"let's just get married, don't wanna walk alone, so let's get married, 'cause we don't wanna walk alone or runaway." (bleachers, let's get married.)

'I just want to be married to you' are the words uttered (first by you, you think, but maybe he said it first, you really can’t remember) that lead you and Carmy to the decision that you should elope. Sooner rather than later, preferably, is what you both agree on. It’s not like you’re planning on having a big wedding anyways. How much work can a civil ceremony at City Hall and a nice dinner party afterwards be to pull off?

Famous last words.

You’re not sure how you’ve gotten from there to here, locked in a heated debate over menu edits with your fiance in the middle of your shared apartment when the sun’s just barely come up, but here you are.

“I’m just saying that we should be open minded and leave room for his artistic integrity!” Carmy passionately argues, winding you up as he makes his case.

“Artistic integrity? Carmy, are you kidding me right now? I-!” you fire back, shaking your head incredulously. “We said we were gonna keep everything chill.”

“It is chill!” he defends, matter-of-factly.

Oh, he’s just looking for a fight.

“There is nothing chill about a parm espuma and it certainly doesn’t belong anywhere near the carbonara!” you scoff, stubbornly. “I mean, the only reason he even brought up the idea of a goddamn espuma in the first place is because he was trying to impress you.”

Carmy’s jaw twitches in response as he grinds his teeth, a display of discomfort at the mere thought.

“He-he was not,” he denies with the kind of conviction of a five year old toddler who's sure as can be.

You shoot him a look.

“Carmen,” you warn him.

Sure it’s a silly thing to fight about, but there’s no malice in this argument. It’s all passion, artistry, and for lack of a better term, foreplay. You let out a sigh, softening before you rise out of your chair.

“Baby, when are you going to admit that you’re kind of a big deal and that people want to impress you?” you level with him, making your way over to your very stubborn and very insistent fiance. You settle down onto his lap, before tucking a stray curl behind his ear as you break, giving the sweetest smile.

He laughs dryly, averting his eyes from you because he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stand his ground (especially when you’re looking at him like that).

You’re right. And he knows you’re right.

And Carmy’s never been able to resist you for long anyways.

A fox-like grin spreads across your lips and you know you’ve won the argument when you feel a pair of hands snake around your waist.

“Don’t push it,” he warns you, seeing the look on your face as he shakes his head, finally returning his eyes to yours.

You raise an eyebrow, “You like that I push.”

He nods slowly in surrender, his face softening as he asks you:

“You really want to fight about this?”

You shake your head with a laugh.

“No, of course not! Of course, I don’t want to fight about this!” you exhale, sliding your hands over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. “But I do think that your new buddy is trying to impress us and that it may be wise for us to reign him in – clear the air on what it is we’re looking for.”

A beat.

“Don’t get me wrong. Of course, we can leave room for creativity… but I don’t want our wedding party to turn into some pretentious fine dining fancy party.”

“Well, we did meet because of some pretentious fine dining fancy thing,” he points out, giving your hip a squeeze.

You giggle, “How could I forget?”

You shake your head once more, leaning in to press your lips against his. Carmy inhales deeply, enjoying the feel of your lips on his, your arms wrapped around his neck, the weight of your body on his lap.

You indulge him for a moment, deepening the kiss as you feel your future husband relax against you, because you really are happy that Carmy’s made a new friend.

Carmy had met a private chef a few months ago and had been trying to hire him for the restaurant for a while now. Wanting to work for himself, the chef had respectfully declined all advances, but he and Carmy had kept in touch, and it looked as if the relationship could potentially extend outside of the four walls of a kitchen. Since you both agreed that no one from the restaurant should work the party, it had been good timing (making a new friend and the fact that he was a private chef) and the right move for Carmy to ask his new friend to cater the wedding.

“Fine,” you resign yourself, pulling away from the kiss. “Derek can keep the liquid nitrogen but that is as far as it goes.”

Carmy shoots you a look – one that says he’s not quite convinced.

“And I will be more open minded in the spirit of… artistic integrity. But I’m not changing my mind about courses. Family style or bust, baby,” you negotiate, a serious look in your eyes.

Carmy thinks it over for a moment before finally coming to a resolution.

“Deal,” Carmy nods with the same intensity as a ‘yes, chef.’

You nod too, completing the agreement.

“I want it to be real, Carm. I want it to be us,” you reiterate, your voice soft as you make your condition loud and clear.

“I know,” he returns, just as determined and committed to the idea as he is to you.

You’re satisfied with the resolution – even more satisfied with the fact that you’ve come to it together.

“You know…” he starts, something in his voice that you can’t quite make out, unsure if you’re going to like what’s about to come out of his mouth. “... it could be a perfect menu if you just let me-.”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Carmen!” you interrupt, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

You are so not playing this game today.

“You don’t even know what I was-!”

“Yes, I do! You are not catering your own wedding party,” you protest, adamantly.

You know him too well.

He laughs, shaking his head as he leans back against his chair, like he’s in high school again, and you’ve just caught him sneaking back into the house.

“God, I love you! But sometimes you drive me up the wall, Carm,” you groan out of frustration, eliciting another laugh from his chest as you hang your head, resting your forehead against his shoulder this time.

“Such a control freak,” you sigh, against his chest.

“Thought you like it when I take control,” he murmurs, beginning to leave kisses across your exposed skin.

You giggle partially because it tickles, and mostly because of what Carmy’s said.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

You lift your head and Carmy kisses you again, this time savoring the way your lips feel against his for a little while longer – just long enough to remind himself that he wants to have the option to sneak away in the middle of your wedding party to have sex much more than he wants cater to be in control all the time.

Sometimes, he thinks to himself, control is overrated anyways.

Only sometimes.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, letting go of the idea. “I’ll get back to Derek about final menu edits and make sure he knows that while we want him to be creative, we also want to keep it… you know….”

“Chill?” you emphasize.

“Chill,” he confirms.

“Okay. Thank you, baby,” you smile softly, trying your best to enjoy the temporary moment of peace between the two of you. Carm squeezes your hip as you roll your eyes with a sigh, muttering an:

“Oh fuck.”

“What’s up?”

You shake your head again, laughing incredulously before letting out another sigh.

“Just wait till we go through this again with the cake.”

“Fuck!” Carmy shouts towards the ceiling, throwing his head back as you laugh. “Why did we say we wanted to plan a wedding again?”

“Well baby, I don’t think either of us can pass up on a chance to create a menu,” you giggle, leaving a few kisses along his jawline before you make your way up to his nose. “Can you imagine if we decided to have a full-on wedding? That’d be a freaking mess.”

He chuckles, “It’d be like opening another restaurant.”

“Yeah, pass,” you hum, so glad to have dodged that bullet.

-----------------------------------------

By the time you and Carmy are even ready to focus on the cake portion of said wedding-dinner-party it’s a month later. You’ve been through half of the bakeries in the city, you think, and something’s just felt off. You’re practically eating your words, as it dawns on you that you’re having the exact same thought as Carmy: that it could just be perfect if you were able to make it yourself.

Then again, you remind yourself that a cake is an entirely different thing versus running a dinner service, so it can’t be that unhinged to have these thoughts, right?

But you and Carmy made an agreement, so in solidarity, you decide it’s only fair for you to make like Tammy Wynette and stand by your man.

You’re grateful for the half day you have today (“Summer Fridays”, as it’s so fondly referred to around your office) – and the fact that you get to work from home. What it means for you is that today you can clock out early and pick up samples from the tenth bakery (okay, so maybe it’s the eleventh but truthfully, you’ve lost count) in the running for your wedding cake.

You change out of your pajamas for the first time today, throwing on a slip dress and one of Carmy’s crisp, white Ralph Lauren button downs – worn layered and open like a cardigan – before you head to the bakery, and then eventually, The Bear.

The restaurant is closed for the afternoon, as they do a shift change over: some stay and take a break, others go home, let the dinner crew come in and take over. It’s different these days and while some days you miss it – the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the sounds of an ‘all day’ shouted by the expeditor, the careful dance that is working in a kitchen – you remind yourself that you’re enjoying a half day, and that when you’d chosen to leave, you were ready for a change.

After entering The Bear, you make small talk with Gary while he finishes turning over the dining room for dinner, catching up over the flag football league he’s recently joined – one, it seems, to be taken very seriously by all participants. You tell him that you’re here with wedding cake samples, and he’s more than eager to give you some space to set up, because who doesn’t love free cake? Mid-sentence, Gary gestures towards a table for you to set up on, as you begin to unpack your large brown paper bag.

“Well, well. Look who it is,” Marcus calls out, as soon as he sees you. “Heard a rumor you were out here. You brought cake?”

“I brought cake,” you repeat as confirmation, turning to see your dear friend and mentee. “But don’t worry. I’ll be thinking about yours the whole time.”

He snickers, moving in for a hug.

“‘S Good to see you, Chef. How ya been?” he asks, enveloping you in his arms for a tight squeeze.

“Good to see you too, Marcus. I’m good. Had a half day today so… you know, we’ve just been busy with wedding stuff. But what’s going on with you? What’s new?” you answer, turning the focus back onto him.

“Oh you know. The usual. Though, I’ve been workin’ on some new shit for Syd’s new menu when I’m not here,” he answers, a broad smile spreading across his lips as he talks about.

“Jeez, Brooks. I know, Carm’s got ya busy. When the hell do you ever sleep?” you ask, as you shake your head.

“I don’t,” he answers plainly.

And just as you’re about to remind Marcus to get some rest, Sugar comes bursting through the front doors, her rounded belly full on display now that she’s had a chance to tell almost everyone the news of her pregnancy.

“Hey! Sorry I’m running late,” Sugar says, announcing her arrival. “Got tied up running an errand and then I had to stop at the store for Tums. This baby is killing me with the heartburn these days. Fucking christ.”

“Oh, no big deal. I haven’t even seen Carmy yet,” you shrug, as she mutters a surprised ‘oh’ and Marcus mumbles something about going to get Carmy. “It’s good to see you!”

“Yo, Carm!” Marcus shouts, heading back to the kitchen while you and Sugar exchange hellos.

“Awww, it’s good to see you too, sweetie,” she smiles, pulling you in for your second hug of the day.

This is something you miss about working in the kitchen: the camaraderie, the found-family, all the love.

“Wow this is… quite the spread,” Sugar mentions, eyeing the cakes you’ve laid out on the table.

“Yeah… they had a lot of ideas, I guess,” you say with a shrug.

Sugar shoots you an unconvinced look.

“Okay, fine. I had a lot of ideas…” you admit guiltily.

“...aaaand no one is going to do it the way you want it to be done,” Sugar sighs in the middle of your sentence.

“And they were more than willing to play. I couldn’t help myself!” you finish, defending yourself.

“Well, your enthusiasm is one of the many things I love about you, but… yeah, this is a lot,” Sugar grins as she gestures towards the overwhelming amount of cake you’ve just laid out on the table.

Regardless, Sugar really can’t wait to be your sister-in-law.

“Speaking of… I thought this was just a small wedding. It looks like you’re preparing to feed the entire French Army during Marie Antoinette’s reign.”

“Oh it still is – small,” you answer, simply. “I went a little overboard, didn’t I?”

“Why go through all this trouble? You might as well have a small ceremony instead of-,”

“No!” you protest, hearing another voice say the same thing.

“Sugar, we’ve already told you that we don’t want to do anything big!” Carmy adds, as soon as he enters the dining room.

“Hey, babe,” he says, sending you the softest smile as he looks your way.

“Hey you,” you smile in return as he approaches you, giving him a short ‘hello’ peck on the lips.

“Fak attack!” Fak cries out, as he enters the dining room. “Ooooh cake tasting!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, as Fak is quickly followed by some of the line cooks that have just wrapped up lunch service.

It’s then that you hear Tina’s voice, growling something in Spanish as Richie speaks way too loudly about god knows what, as Ebra follows behind, somehow in the middle of a story that has little to do with whatever Tina and Richie are going on about.

You smile to yourself, because you really do miss this part.

“I told everyone we were doing a cake tasting,” Carmy starts, gesturing towards the rest of the staff as they join you. “That cool?”

“Totally. We have more than enough to share,”

“That’s true,” Sugar says. "And I can't complain because the baby is reeeeaaally craving cake these days."

As everyone at The Bear crowd around the circular dining table where you set up the cake tasting, you all enjoy bites here and there, comparing notes, sharing reactions to each flavor combo.

Earl grey & lemon. A classic red velvet. And of course, you had to get a little weird with the black sesame clementine combination you’d dreamed up with the pastry chef you’d been working with.

“I think my favorite is the black sesame and clementine but I doubt it’s a cake everyone will like. Doesn’t have the crowd appeal we probably should keep in mind,” you murmur to Carmy as the two of you watch his staff go on about the tiramisu-inspired one.

“Well, babe, it’s our wedding! We can do whatever we want,” he encourages you.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, paralyzed with indecision.

“The tiramisu one is good. I’m leaning towards that,” Carmy shares with you, eager to hear your thoughts.

“Yeah, I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little too on the nose?” you reply, unsettled and unsure that any of these are right.

“Why don’t you guys just let me make it?” Marcus interjects, asking the question he’s been wondering this entire time.

“I-,” you start, unable to help the fact that your eyes begin to wet with emotion. “Really?”

He laughs, glancing sideways at you.

“Uh yeah. I’m a little offended neither of you did in the first place,” Marcus teases the two of you, though you know there’s some truth to it.

You and Carmy exchange a look that says something along the lines of: ‘oh shit.’

“Well, we didn’t think you’d-,” you stammer, beginning to explain the why behind you and Carmy’s hesitation in the first place.

“We just thought you’d want to- that you should be able to enjoy the party,” Carmy adds, finishing your sentence, his eyes widening as he realizes that you both kinda fucked up.

“Chefs,” he says, looking from you to Carmy once more, with a seriousness in his voice as he rises to his feet. “It would be my honor. And just because I’m makin’ the cake doesn’t mean I won’t be able to enjoy the party. I can do it in the days leading up to it.”

“Oh-, okay, yes! Yes!” you cry, leaping to your feet this time, as if you’re accepting Carmy’s proposal again.

Richie rolls his eyes in response, groaning as he mutters something snarky to Fak, as Marcus pulls you into the biggest bear hug.

“You all are a bunch of saps,” he scoffs, directing this next comment to Marcus this time. “You big softie!”

“Richie!” Sugar hisses, glaring the sharpest daggers from her eyeballs into Richie’s skull.

“Oh fuck off, Richie,” you snort, with a laugh. “You’re just salty because… wait. Carm, you haven’t asked him yet?”

“Babe, I-,” Carmy whines, his eyes wide. “You just ruined the surprise!”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah ‘fuck’ is right,” he pouts, though he can never stay upset with you for too long.

“What the fuck are you guys even talking about?” Richie asks, squinting as he looks between the two of you.

You and Carmy share a knowing look, deciding that now is a better time as ever.

“We want you to be our witness, Cousin. At the courthouse,” Carmy says, a soft intensity in his eyes as he answers Richie’s question.

“Jesus Christ,” Sugar snarks, with an eye roll as she realizes she’ll be stuck with him at the damn courthouse as well.

“Wh-?” Richie begins to ask, looking from Carmy to you, then back to Carmy again, tears welling up in his eyes as he realizes what Carmy’s just said. “You-? Really?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, in a well-duh kind of tone. “Plus you know I can’t get married without my Ava there.”

“And sign the marriage license and everything?” Richie balks, because he really can’t believe it.

“Yeah,” you reassure him.

“Yeah. I mean, fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” Richie declares, even more sentimental than Marcus this time. “Shit, Cuz… Hell yeah, I’ll sign the fuck out of that marriage license as your witness.”

Tina snickers, exchanging a look with Sugar, and earning a glare from Richie. He lowers his voice, directing the question towards you this time:

“Oh and uh… cool if Ava still sings “Love Story?” I kinda promised her she could sing a Taylor Swift song as part of my best man speech and she insists that one is about you and Carmy,” Richie asks, looking around suspiciously, afraid of someone else hearing.

“Awwww, Richie. Of course,” you coo, only melting inside a little at the thought.

“What?” Richie snaps, realizing that he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he was.

Sugar snorts in response, earning a laugh from both Tina and Marcus.

It’s Marcus’ turn to roll his eyes at Richie this time.

“What?” Richie repeats, this time with a little more annoyance in his voice.

Sugar smirks, firing back with a:

“Who’s the big softie now, Rick?”

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #dont want to walk alone

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be-my-ally · 1 year

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We can't go on together (with suspicious minds) fic. 1.

first post! i've been working on a mini series of these, where the reader confronts Elvis about his other girls and his reaction to being called out. I think we're going to go for a classic and name the series Suspicious Minds? This is the first, completely inspired by that phonecall with anita, and the story from priscilla about Elvis' reaction to her divorce request.

Pairing: Elvis/afab!reader (I imagine BDE but I think you could probs picture whatever era you like)

Summary: Reader is upset at being forced to watch Elvis constantly touching and kissing other girls - his solution? fuck her until she doesn't care anymore.

warnings: 18+, blowjobs, sex, demanding!Elvis, jealous!Elvis, possessive!elvis, idk yandere? maybe a little? slight dubcon, especially in the second half. tiniest breeding kink. arguing as foreplay, references/allusions to infidelity, mention of pregnancy. Reader is definitely being manipulated here. Elvis is not being nice.

wc: 5.7k (this was meant to be under 2k whoops) I kind of hate the last couple of lines but if I didn't decide I was done there this was gonna go on forever so there we are!

The fact that Elvis kisses forty girls a night is neither here nor there, they are indiscriminate from one another and don’t mean anything - you know that. He simply has to kiss as many girls that he finds unattractive as much as those that catch his eye; although whenever he argues this point you’re uncertain if he truly knows how to be unattracted to a girl of any kind. But you’ve so far taken it at face value - he was yours at the end of the night and you were in his bed, in his home, and honestly that’s all you cared about. You could let the other girls have their seven seconds with him.

You probably, at this point in your relationship, cared far too much about him but he made you feel like no-one else has ever done. You wonder sometimes if he even knows how love feels - or if he just truly has to be permanently in love to live, he says it so easily and freely. Regardless, you can’t help but believe him when he says he loves you. There’s just something about him, a strange magnetism or force that allows you to forgive and forget a lot more than you usually would. Constantly desperate for his approval when really he should be begging for yours. You’d beg him to pay attention, accuse him of being distant and he would somehow always turn it back onto you - “You’re just so damn needy,” and “I can’t just rush off to see you when you want, I’m a busy boy Darlin’,” until he became exasperated; “Lord, stop naggin’ me woman.” You accepted it, in a way you wouldn’t from anyone else - you simply argued your case as much as you could, hung up the phone, sobbed, and then ran to him gladly when he offered you any scrap of attention. Why didn’t he like you enough to listen if he claimed to love you?

It’s not the girls at the concerts you worry about, throwing themselves up at him, clawing at him - that display of unwomanly desire is as unattractive to him as can be, entertaining rather than arousing, and you know that for him it really is all about putting on a good, memorable show for the audience. It is as much a part of his stage personality and persona as his jumpsuits are; women and girls go to see Elvis expecting to come home kissed.

It’s the afterparty girls you find difficult. It’s when you see, from across the room or even from right beside them, his hand inching up their thigh; when their legs tangle together, or he pulls their feet on his wide spread thighs that you start to feel like its wrong. You mind it less if you’re not there to see it, and you can tell Elvis knows this too - judging from how often you’re sent home to Memphis, only called back to Vegas every few weeks. Whenever you talk on the phone you ask him about the other girls - if there are any, if there’s anyone special. He always denies it and reminds you over the phone that “I’ve only got eyes for you little darling.” But that “a man’s got needs mama” or even, “I’m a polite boy baby, I can’t just shove em offa me!” And you agree - he can’t exactly shove girls off of him, but maybe he could just…invite them over less?

But really who knows what else he is supposed to do. It’s not like there’s a precedent for this, nor is he likely to listen to your suggestions. So you accept it all, simply as part of the price of being allowed to maintain rotation in his orbit.

But still it’s hard. Especially when it’s been days since you last had the chance to really see him, or spend any time with him and he’s sat there lapping up the attention from these goddamn groupies like a sultan with his harem. You can’t help but go cold to his advances, giving him one word answers when he deigns to talk to you across the room. You can tell you’re annoying him, he hates to be publicly defied especially from one of his women - from his main woman, and you can tell he’s chewing his cheek by the clench of his jaw when you respond again in words of one syllable. As if to annoy you further you watch him shift in his seat, spreading his legs further apart, and laughing as he tips his head back in response to whatever blondie to the right of him says. It causes the fabric of his trousers to go taught, and his neck muscles tighten - veins appearing to tense. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you close your eyes for a second. He’s unfairly attractive like this, in fact, he’s blinding to look at and you can’t help but shift your thighs together.

When you open them he’s staring back at you. You inadvertently make eye contact and he winks. You forget for a second you’re angry at him, and can’t stop the heat rising up you. But then you watch his arm flex around the girl to the left of him and you regain your senses, looking away with a flick of your hair. You count to a hundred, pretending to keep the conversation up with Jerry while you wait to glance over again. When you look over again he’s whispering in her ear, and you can’t help but glare. He seems to sense you, and looks over her cheek to you. He leans back and nods to his dressing room door. You purposefully ignore him, turning back once again to Jerry. A second later you can hear movement behind you and Elvis’ voice rises above the noise of the conversations around you; “I’m sorry sugar, but I’ve got some business to see to.” Your ears are attuned to him, and you have no idea what the conversation you’re in is anymore, listening to hear what this business was and trying to judge from the sounds what his movements are from behind your back. A second later you don’t have to try and guess as his hand touches your elbow,

“Come on now darlin’ lemme borrow you for a sec.” You look at his hand on your elbow and your eyes narrow at him, but he’s looking at you like he’s daring you to say something, playfully half expecting you to make a scene. But that’s not your style and he knows it. You flick your head back around to Jerry and Charlie and say,

“Sorry guys, the ‘King’ called.” You add a sarcastic edge to your words and playfully roll your eyes. You turn around to head towards his dressing room and jump as Elvis’ hand connects with your ass - propelling you forward, he walks you towards the door laughing as the boys behind continue their conversation as if you were never there.

You pull away from him as soon as you’re on the other side of the door and look at him affronted when he shuts the door with a definitive click and turns around, practically leering at you and rubbing himself over his trousers.

“Oh, you must be joking.” You scoff, you can’t deny you’re almost always turned on around him, but you do have some level of self respect.

“Come on now baby, don’t be like that, thought you’d wanna help me out?” He pleads, looking at you hopefully.

“That fuckin’ groupie gets you all riled up and i’ve gotta be the one to deal with it.” You roll your eyes again, crossing your arms over your chest. He frowns,

“Well - if it’s such a chore don’t fucking bother.” He shrugs, and looks down at himself, “I’ll just….deal with it myself.” He rubs again before untucking himself from his trousers - his cock jumps when it hits the slightly chilly air, and you can see his foreskin tighten a little in response. He licks his palm ready to get himself going but pauses before he touches himself. He looks down, looking like a kicked puppy, “Never thought you’d wanna leave me like this though little mama,” he touches himself once, twice, starting to peel back his foreskin from his head, “please baby, help me out?” He’s talking in that utterly stupid baby voice of his, and even before the question is fully out of his mouth you know you’re going to give in, that you can’t resist him.

He practically whimpers a further. “Please baby? Please!” and you know you’ve had it. You’re incapable of denying him any further. You move as if he’s got you on strings, dropping to your knees in front of him. You can feel your wetness start to form - the response to this position is pavlovian at this point. You nod once,

“Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.” He looks down at you and winks, starting to gather up your hair in his hands to hold it away from your neck and face. He brushes a finger down your cheek and taps it against your lips,

“As if you had a choice.” Despite the slightly sinister statement you can’t help but find his confidence endearing and you giggle, already feeling better now that he had you alone. Proof that he chose you.

He’s always gentle at first, allowing you to lap at him, tiny kitten licks as you gaze up. This time is no different, you feel like you’ve been there for half hour, although its probably closer to three or four minutes by the time he starts to insistently push his head against your lips. He lets you control the pace for the moment and you obediently bob up and down on him. He looks down at you, his lips are in a little pouty grimace, and his pupils enlarged so that the clear blue of his eyes is barely visible. He’s clearly losing the battle at staying hands off, and this is even more true when a moment later you feel his grip on your hair tighten. He pulls you further, causing you to choke slightly before you adjust to the deeper motion and it doesn’t take long before he’s completely controlling the pace and depth.

He speeds up, his eyes slightly manic as he thrusts forward, fucking into your mouth even deeper and remaining deeper to match his quicker timing. He drops your hair and with one hand he holds the back of your head, while the other creeps around your shoulders and neck to rest on the base of your throat, his fingers gently wrapping around. He pulls you all the way off, and a trail of drool connects you before you lick your lips, his precum and your spit mixing into a bitter tasting foam. He nods at you and you take a deep breath, allowing him to pull you forward once more. You hollow your cheeks, and use all the techniques you have, swirling your tongue and humming, and it doesn’t take long before he’s pulling you tighter, harder and quicker, and after that barely any time at all his hips stutter and he’s releasing down your throat, his fingers stroking where he can feel you gulping it down.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

He leaves you there, he’s normally very generous - but today he doesn’t even order you to touch yourself. It feels like he’s proving a point, that he gives you what you get. That you’re no different to him using the other girls who get him hard. There just for him to use you, get off. You feel frustrated, and hurt, and a tiny bit like a groupie or whore yourself. But, then he’s sweet as can be the next day - showing you off to reporters, planning a trip to Hawaii together and while you still feel slight unease at how you’ve been treated, you otherwise quickly forgive and forget.

——-

There’s a party at Graceland tonight, you’ve barely seen him and you huff as you fetch yourself another drink. He’s ‘holding court’ in the music room, playing to other’s requests when you head back to the kitchen. By the time you return he’s sat on that impossibly long sofa laughing and talking with the boys and girls on either side of him and mingling around the room. There’s nowhere for you to sit and you consider the floor for a second - but quickly realise that the place that puts you out of the way of people would put you directly at his feet. You hope he looks over at you, pushes the girl off who’s sat next to him to make room for you. But he doesn’t - instead you watch him lean over to whisper in her ear. You’re openly staring from the doorway now, as he cups her cheek and pulls her in for a kiss.. There’s raucous laughter in response from everyone else, and from the angle - when he opens his eyes mid-kiss - you make eye contact. He doesn’t even flinch when he notices you. He pulls back and pats the top of her head, she grins - clearly satisfied with herself - and he heaves himself up. Whether to go to you, or just to head out of the room in general you don’t know - by the time he’s stood up you’ve stormed out.

You take a few deep breaths in the slightly chilly outside air, and walk far enough away that you can look back upon the house. It’s shimmering slightly from the heat within, the windows are steamed up from the volume of people and you can see little plumes of smoke from the sheer number of cigarettes and cigars being consumed escaping into the night whenever the door gets open and closed. You’re not sure why it’s getting to you so much, but it’s like he’s trying to prove a point at the moment and you just have to accept it or find your limit. You can’t help but let a few tears escape, it’s humiliating, to be treated like that in Vegas or on the road is bad enough but in your own home is almost too much to bear. But maybe that’s the point - it’s not yours really, it’s his and you’re not your own person anymore, you’re his. You stand out there until you can feel a chill setting in and head back inside, slipping upstairs and past the groups of people without saying goodbye, and climbing into bed.

You don’t sleep, on edge waiting for him to come up, but you do feel yourself drowsing. When he does come up he ignores your body in bed in favour of the ensuite and by the time he reappears in his pyjamas you’re drowsing again. He slides in behind you and you almost inaudibly huff as he drapes an arm over your midriff, tucking a leg over yours. You huff louder, and pull away, turning around from him to face the other side of the bed. He tries to push up your nightgown and stroke your back but you reach your arm around to bat his hand away, you’re certainly not in the mood tonight. Not after his behaviour. “No Elvis. Not tonight. Not after you’ve had those girls all over you.” He pulls away and huffs.

“Come on darling, you’re being a bitch.” You roll over and pretend to be asleep. He ignores you.

The next morning you wake up and he’s gone but in his place, on his side of the bed, is a huge box. This isn’t rare - he often bought you presents, or left you clothing to be worn and normally you loved it. It wasn’t even because of the materialism of being bought the pretty things - the dresses and the jewellery; the shoes and the lingerie but rather the possession of it. Owning things he picked out for you with every expectation that you would, of course, be wearing it when he next saw you. Normally this gave you a thrill - he didn’t even need to write it on a note anymore. It was just understood that you would, when such a box appeared, be bedecked in an outfit that would loudly proclaim you as histo those in the know, if not the world. His flashy, expensive but very specific fashionable and feminine style obvious to everyone who knows him. You peek inside the box to see a flash of green sparkly knit fabric and a red jewellery box resting on top, undoubtedly containing something absurdly over the top and expensive that he expects to see you in. Not this time though. This time the dress can stay in the fucking box it arrived in and you’re going to wear your jeans and a top you bought all on your lonesome. You’re not even going to look at whats in the red box. You feel outraged that he thinks you’d simply forgive and forget his behaviour the night before because he bought you a present. It's even more humiliating than being so publicly embarrassed; the implication that you can be bought so easily.

You storm out of the bedroom once you’re dressed and your hair is brushed - it’s not styled, which would usually irk you (and him) but you’re honestly too riled up to care. The time for calm is over and you feel like you’ve been pushed to the edge too many times now. You burst into the den, the door slamming open, furious that you feel so out of control. So unlike yourself.

“El you can’t treat me like dirt and then try to buy me off.” He’s cut off in the middle of a take of a song. You can hear the recorder still whirring - that’s going on the tape forever. You’ll make them destroy this copy later, (or Elvis himself will you’re sure) he’s obsessive about keeping everything possible but its unlikely he’d want evidence of his lack of control of you here. The boys all turn to stare, their instruments faltering to a halt and Elvis spins around, before he’s even facing you you can tell he’s utterly furious. He’s practically shaking.

“-Get the fuck outta here!” He roars, pointing at the door; “fuckin’ hell what do you think you’re playing at?” he tugs at his hair in frustration and you cross your arms. If you leave now and he doesn’t follow you’ll lose what nerve you have. You can only imagine how you’d end up regretting your outburst, simpering apologies to him later if you left now.

“No.” You actually stamp a foot, and your brain is going fifty miles a second trying to regain your dignity, “No Elvis I won’t. I want you to listen to me.” He puffs out a short breath and starts to stalk towards you. Charlie puts his hand out onto his forearm, perhaps anticipating that with his temper and fury so high he might do something he’d later regret. But he’s unwilling to physically hold him back, and Elvis simply shakes his head at him and shrugs him off instead rushing forward and clutching the top of your arm.

“Turn that recording off!” He shouts as you struggle against him pulling you towards the door.

“Elvis! Let me go! Let go of me!” He uses your momentum of your struggle against him to almost trip you over, catching you across the waist and lifting you bodily out of the room. You continue to struggle, thrashing about in his arms as he lifts you up the stairs into the kitchen. He practically drops you when you reach the empty room and you attempt to jump away from him but he holds you steady with that same grip on your upper arm, swapping over to hold your wrist. He practically growls at you;

“Let’s go baby.” He drags you upstairs to his bedroom, despite your protestations, and slams the door behind himself.

“I ain’t about to have it out with you with all the boys lookin’ on in, like I can’t control my goddamn woman.” He leans in to sharply whisper at you and you laugh cruelly, finally managing to pull away.

“Maybe thats because you don’t have a woman to control Elvis. I ain’t been your woman in a long time! How can I be if you’re away all the time doing god knows what with god knows who! Or even being here and doing it!” His chest is heaving as he takes in your outburst. He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Little girl, I’m not having the same argument with you twenty times over. We’ve already had this discussion and you’re really turning me the fuck up about it. I’ve got needs. I don’t know what you want me to say mama.” He’s clearly annoyed, but still trying to come across earnest - as if he doesn’t understand what’s angered you so much.

“I want you to say that you actually give a damn Elvis. That you give a damn about me. About how I feel about it. About how if you promise me there ain’t another girl that there ain’t another girl that the boys are whispering about.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“You’re not around all the time baby; I don’t know what you want me to say to you - I love you. That should be enough; why isn’t it enough for you? There ain’t no one I’d rather be with, it just ain’t always possible mama.” You absolutely can’t stand the glow that you immediately feel as he professes his love for you and it spikes your anger once again - since it comes attached to absolutely no attempt to deny his sheer infidelity.

“Well, you’re not around either, and it’s not a choice I make to not be there for you. Maybe I should do like you do - after all ain’t a woman got needs too?” You placed your hand on your hips, chest heaving at the volume you’d not realised you’d reached.

“Don’t you dare lil’ girl, I told you there wasn’t anyone else. Don’t threaten me like that. You won’t like what you get back.” He tuts and shakes his head, and you’ve no idea where your sudden boldness comes from;

“What? Afraid I’ll like them more?”

He roars at you, throwing himself at you, pulling your hands up. He shoves his lips on yours and you have no choice but to acquiesce to his tongue’s insistent demands that you open your mouth. He growls against your neck;

“I’m gonna make you see right now. Gotta show you, you belong to me lil mama. To me.” He pushes you down to your knees and it barely occurs to you to struggle. He’s gathering your hair in his hands - pulling it away from your face as you realise the argument’s clearly made him hard - the bulge in his trousers evident from your close angle. He pulls your head back with his grip on your hair and his other hand trails down your cheek to your neck, his fingers stretching around it. Just a presence there. You look up at him with wide eyes and a flushed face and he stares down at you.

“You’re gonna ‘pologise to me for messin’ with my work. And for accusing me of all that shit and you’re gonna do it right now.” Your mind is gone, his eyes somehow holding you captive and all you can do is nod. “Right then, get little Elvis out baby and get to it.” He nods down at you and you quickly grasp his meaning, your fingers shaking as you fumble through unbuttoning his trousers. He is, like usual, not wearing any boxers so there’s no other fabric barrier that you have to get to before you’re able to pull his cock out. He pulls you by your ponytail and you immediately kiss the head, licking the tip and down in long stripes. He allows this for a moment before taking the hand from around your throat to slap his dick against your cheek - before insistently nudging it against your lips. The moment it’s in your mouth he pulls you down on him, barely giving you time to catch your breath. He’s rougher than he usually is right from the start and it's a struggle to keep up.

You’re a mess of day old mascara and tears from your eyes watering, and spit and drool when he pulls out. Pulling you off of him entirely. He crouches in front of you and wipes at your face with his thumbs on each cheek before he pushes you backwards, although he supports your fall back with a hand under your neck - lowering you completely to the floor. He moves quickly to unbutton your jeans, tugging them down impatiently. It doesn’t occur to you to struggle, and while a little part of your brain is shouting at you to stop being stupid, that you’re losing the argument, that this wasn’t what you wanted to happen, a larger part can’t get over how good he looks in this moment - nor the anticipation of what you’re sure is going to be some pretty spectacular sex. “I hate you in these, baby.” You smile. That’s why you wore them.

“Oh,” He smirks back at you. “I get it. Tryin’ to prove a point huh?” He grasps the legs as they unroll past your ankles and yanks. You hear the tearing as they split straight down the seam. “Point made Darlin.” He’s infuriating. He pushes your panties to the side and circles your clit, rubbing down before pushing into the pooling wetness. He slides in one finger, and it slips straight in so he immediately pulls it out to add a second. He pumps them a couple of times, crooking his finger in just the right spot to make you jump around him, your hips grinding of their own accord. You whine when he pulls them out, shoving them into your mouth and he drags you back closer to him. His other hand steadying his dick and he slips his other out of your mouth to better support his body. He pushes in, you’re wet as anything but barely stretched and you can feel every inch of him as he pushes into you. He stills for a second as he bottoms out, and you shiver around him. He looks back at you, his eyes blazing and his hair flopping forward, out from where it was so carefully slicked back. He’s still mostly dressed and it feels so wrong to be able to feel his slacks and open shirt resting against your naked skin but you forget all about this when he pulls you almost all the way off and slams you back down. He thrusts like this once, twice and the noises that come out of your mouth are obscene, your eyes rolling back. “That’s r-right my t-t-tight lil woman,” he stills for a second to kiss you and you clutch at his shoulders for balance as you try to get closer to him. He tugs at your lip before working his way down, sucking onto your collarbone. The heat is building in you, and you can feel it in your thighs, your pulse jumping, but his slow rocking motion isn’t enough to get you properly close;

“El-Elvis, baby, baby, need you, need you to move.” You stutter out and feel his smirk against your neck. He then, if you didn’t know better, seems to lose control - his hips rocking in his signature way, as he fucks into you rapidly back and forth.

His bedroom carpet is plush and expensive but still isn’t particularly comfortable to be rocked against as your t-shirt rolls up but he seems completely uncaring to the comfort of your skin being rubbed raw, focussed on his fingers getting you off and fucking into you as deep as he can get. You claw into the carpet as he makes your back arch in pleasure as he pulls away and drags you back onto him. You can feel the bruises forming in the shape of his fingertips on your hips.

He’s out of breath with the exertion of the act and you can feel the sweat and heat coming off of him, as he thrusts so deeply it makes you choke as your head rocks forward. He lets out a breathless huff of laughter in response;

“That’s right darlin’ gonna make you feel it.” You moan, and he continues, “Only way to get it through that thick skull of yours is fucking it into you.” He slams into you, and you shake as the words and his motions push you over the cliff. He continues talking but you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears, and the noises coming out of your own mouth as you ride out the wave - his fingers and cock moving in the exact same way to coax you through it. He removes his hand and you feel like you can breathe again as you feel everything pulse around your core. He grips your thighs, “No-one else could fuck you like this, make you take it like this.” He punctuates his point with a rotation of his hips, pushing into you as much as he can - deeply rocking you, and you can feel his head knocking against your walls. You tremble, overstimulated from your brief orgasm a moment ago but still on the edge, “You think anyone else could make you feel like this?”

You rapidly shake your head, stuttering out a response, “No, no, nn-o.” He lets out a breathy, tiny gruff chuckle,

“No you’re damn right baby. They couldn’t.” You moan, can’t help yourself and you feel him jump inside you,

“Gonna knock you up darling, gonna make you mine forever.” and his hips stutter as you feel the pulse of his cum inside. You’re shocked at his announcement, but you feel yourself twitch in response and he goes to touch you again, feeling where the two of you join, his cock still inside, sliding his fingers up and down, and that’s apparently enough to send you over the edge again. When you come to he’s slipping his cock out of you, although he remains leaning over you to talk in your ear;

“You interrupt me workin’ again doll, with shit like this, and you’re out. You understand me girlie?” You nod again, it’s like you’ve been struck cock dumb - you can barely even remember what you were annoyed with him about. He rubs your stomach and places a light kiss on your neck, he murmurs against your skin; “You can’t be jealous if I’ve given you somethin’ no one else has.” He pulls away from you and redresses himself - well, pulls up his trousers and rebuttons his shirt. You lie there, panting, on the floor feeling his seed trickle out of you. He holds out a hand to you and it seems to take a lot of effort to take it, but you grasp his hand and he pulls you up in one tug. He holds you close and kisses you hard on the mouth, “Put your present on,“ he glances to the box on the bed, and you nod, “Knocked some goddamn sense into ya now, haven’t I.” He declares it proudly, satisfied that you seem to be meek in agreement with him, and you smile back at him unable to even deny that his fucking you has caused you to agree with him. You turn away from him to head into the bathroom, clean yourself up a little and you can finally talk again as you go, your voice scratchy, “Don’t worry Elvis baby, I ain’t all amped up still.” You can practically feel him smile.

“That’s good, honey, that’s real good.” He pauses, “If you can behave yourself you can come and join us, if you like, after you get yourself touched up.” You’re inspecting yourself in the mirror, responding with forced casualness,

“Course!” As you assess your body, still flushed and littered with tiny bruises, you crane around to look at your back and wince at the carpet burn evident there. You shake your head, what a ridiculous thing to have done, when the bed was right there. You hear him leave and take a shaky breath in - how are you gonna sort your hair from this clearly debauched state. You glance down, looking at his fingerprints on your hips and sides, and consider your stomach for a moment. You wonder if he truly has, in his anger, joined you together for eternity. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but on every other occasion he’s ensured you’ve taken every precaution, short of abortion. Should you douche? You jump suddenly as you hear him sprinting back into the room, as if he could hear your thoughts he bursts into the bathroom.

“Forgot to say mama,” He pauses and jabs his pointer finger at you, “you let that baby stick. It’s the only way to prove it to you. You let it be.” You start to protest,

“Honey, sweetheart, do you…do you really think we should be doing this? That we should?”

“You sayin’ you don’t want my baby, Sugar?” You lock eyes with him in the mirror and rapidly shake your head,

“No-no-no! No! Elvis, No! Of course I do! I just, is this the way it should be done?” He laughs,

“I don’t see how it makes the slightest bit of difference, we’ll have to go again, later, make sure - don’t see how we can tell which does the trick. Just that it’s done.” You turn to look at him properly,

“We-ell ok then Elvie baby, let’s do it.”

Later that night, when you’re sat watching a girl practically climb into his lap you feel a surge of pride - he glances over at you and winks - and you think, that's right have him for the second, but I’ve got what you really want; him all the time and his baby in my belly.

#elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction

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keiscake · 1 year

Text

hawks x gn!reader

fluff/shortfic

a/n ~ i've been listening to this on repeat for the last week, and it inspired a short fic for me to write. i also got the opportunity to test out some photoshopping, with lots of help from my boyfriend. hope you enjoy this short little fic!

you were told that college was a place of love and romance, a place for relationships to bloom and grow. you were a hopeless romantic all your life, so you went into your first year with the expectation that you'd meet someone. though you didn't meet someone, and going into your third year you still hadn't met someone. but you met some great friends.

they were all in couples by the third semester of your first year. todoroki and momo, denki and jirou, deku and uraraka, the list went on. needless to say you were surrounded by couples all the time. but you got used to it eventually, it became the norm after almost two years after all. and after almost two years you finally gave up on the idea of love and romance.

it made you wonder, is loving as good as they say?

you had been counting the day since november. the same november that made you realise that love wasn't meant for you. the same november that dabi had rejected you. it felt like your whole world came crashing down that snowy day. your friends held your hand through it all and reassured you that your time would come, but you decided that you should take it as a sign instead.

you gave a second chance to cupid, but now you were left feeling stupid. your destiny was just not written with a player two. you would just get on with your life as normal. you'd go to class, put your head down in the books, hang out with your friends, what more could you ask for? well, wouldn't it be okay for you to ask the heaven's for one small little thing?

most nights you felt lonely, crying in your room. wishing to find a lover that could hold you. a lover that would embrace you tightly and share the same warmth with you. a lover that would spoil you with kisses and touches. a lover you could build a future with. it was all you wanted. but after that november, you were so skeptical of love.

but maybe you thought that it wasn't the heavens that drifted you away from your destiny with a player two. maybe it was yourself. you could try a little harder instead of relying on fate and cupid. you decided that your destiny was in your hands now. so you built up the courage to speak to him.

he was the closest thing to an angel you had ever seen. golden eyes with a warm and soft gaze, voice soothing and gentle, and crimson red wings. hawks. his name was hawks. he was in the same class as you and spoke to you every now and them. though you never realised how kind he was to you until that day, or how kind he was in general.

hawks started speaking to you outside of class. so you matched his energy by inviting him to hang out with your friends, and it was a hit. he was quickly taken into the group, and you were glad. your friends even teased you about being in a couple with hawks. you didn't detest the idea, just unsure that it was even possible.

but the more hawks stook around the stronger the idea was. he nursed you when you had the flu, panicking to your dorm room with medicine and apologising about not being quick enough. he always made excuses for you if you were late to class or shared his notes if you didn't quite catch everything. it made you realise you were a fool, a fool for love.

and maybe after all that time your hard work paid off. hawks asked you out in november during your third year of college. he took you to the park on a walk so that the two of you could blow off some steam. you walked by the lake that was frozen over, the moon's reflection as clear as day on its icy surface. you admired the view.

whilst you were enticed in the moonlight, hawks wrapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear, "will you be mine y/n?". your face was all hot, despite the ever falling snow. your heart was melting. your hands shaking. your destiny finally falling into place. you were just a hopeless girl seeking for someone to share the feeling with. the feeling of love.

and you found him.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #keigo takami x y/n #keigo tamaki #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #fluff

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mercurygray · 4 months

Note

Literally don't know if it's my lack of self confidence or anxiety that's giving me intrusive thoughts. I've always wanted to write for BoB but never did. It wasn't ever an issue or anything I just kind of enjoyed the fandom from afar. Since seeing Masters of the Air trailer I've been inspired but underwhelmed by self doubt. I want to make OCs and participate in this fandom when the show airs but feel I will be mocked or critiqued if I don't research the history of the period or get something wrong. I'm not academic. I'm just about the blorbos. But the BoB fandom strikes me as hugely intellectual and the fic is always immaculate and we'll researched even stuff that is made up is feasible because of the research. I feel masters of the air is gonna follow the same pattern and I feel intimidated. I'm stopping before I'm starting. I don't want to enjoy the fandom from afar but I don't want to put the legwork in to make a fic historically accurate. But I don't want people jumping on me for being so ignorant. I don't even know what or where I can get face claims from that era to use. I guess this is a cry for help

Kind Anonymous Friend, you come sit over here by me and let's talk.

First, let's start with one thing - there's no right or wrong way to be in a fandom. Fandoms need readers and observers just as much as they need writers, and just by you being here, and being willing to listen and talk, you are valuable, and you are part of the community. Please do not underestimate that.

Second, that's great that you're feeling inspired! That should be celebrated and held close! Even if you do nothing with that idea, if nothing comes from it, that's still valuable too.

I was like you once; I watched Band of Brothers and I didn't come back to write anything for it for nine years, because just like you I was really intimidated.

Every writer likes something different, and does this work for different reasons. The research part is fun for me, so I do a lot of it. (It's me! I am part of the problem!) I know of plenty of authors who care much more about the emotional feel of the thing and couldn't care less about historical facts. You have to figure out what makes sense for you - and it sounds like you already have. Knowing yourself, and your reason for being here, is a great thing. Hold on to that. That's important.

On the flip side of this, every reader likes something different. I'm sure there are some people who think my approach is total bunk - and that's okay!! And I know that there are people who really don't care for the original character approach; thankfully some of those people are still on speaking terms with me even if they don't necessarily like what I do. Not everyone is going to read everything - what matters is that your people find your fic.

I think if you're open about what your process is, or why you're here, people will be more likely to appreciate what you have to offer, or know that while you're a nice person, they're unlikely to enjoy your story and give others the space to appreciate it in peace. I know that's certainly been the case with me.

I think if anxiety about sharing or being mocked is a big deal for you - and it sounds like it is - maybe sharing some of your ideas in, say, a smaller group of friends could be a good idea. And nothing says you have to be public with your ideas at all. Maybe they're just for you. That's okay, too.

And to your last point regarding face claims - there is no right or wrong way to make an OC. I personally think faceclaims are overrated. Most of my characters don't have them.

I hope this helps. I'm giving you a reassuring back-rub and wishing you good luck -and if you need to DM someone, you know where to find me. I believe in you.

#kind anonymous friend #this has been a pep talk #how to fandom

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sexyzuka · 6 months

Text

Kiba's Uptown Girl

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

Word Count: 13,335

Content: 18+ Smut MDNI, fem!reader, modern!au, boruto era kiba, fem!receiving oral sex, hair pulling, fingering, scratching and biting, standing doggystyle, creampie, watersports, exhibitionism, mentions of blood, surgery/medical references, references to real people/places, pet names

Summary: For your anniversary this year you and Kiba decide to take a trip back to your home country. He’s never been to New York City before, and you can’t wait to show him all of the best parts of Manhattan. For your first date of the week you decide to bring him to Central Park to show him the “greatest view” that the city has to offer. Will you be able to control yourself around him? You’re in a public space, so I sure hope so!

Writer's Notes: While listening to the song “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel I had the idea to write a fic where Kiba and his girlfriend visit the city. I’ve lived around the NYC area for most of my life, so I wanted to create something that incorporated a little slice of home. I was inspired by my trip to Central Park last weekend and included some of my photography within this fic. (You gotta love that extra dash of realism!) This chapter ended up being way longer than I intended, but I just had so much fun throughout the course of writing it, I couldn’t stop myself. I hope you enjoy!

Kiba looks around at all of the signs surrounding you with a confused expression on his face. He didn't even have to say a word before you responded with, "We're taking the 1 train. C'mon, this way." You could hear a familiar tune echoing throughout the corridors of the subway station. There were a few musicians set up nearby, belting out a harmonious tune while reenacting a few scenes from a particular music video you were very well acquainted with. "Are we going uptown or downtown?" "Uptown," you respond without a modicum of doubt in your voice. "Heh, I guess you're a real uptown girl," Kiba responds with a smug assuredness in his tone. "Oh hush, you." You could already tell where this conversation was going the second he uttered those words, the chorus of the nearby performers no doubt spurring on his unusually quirky behavior today. "Y'know, when you're walking you're looking so fine-ine-ine," Kiba began in a singsong voice, "and when you're talking you just know I love it when you say you're mine-ine-ine." Kiba knew how much you loved the classics, and he couldn't help himself but tease you whenever the opportune situation arose. Two could play at that game though, no one knew the lyrics to your favourite songs better than you. "Despite your appearance, you're not so tough," you jest back at Kiba with a rhythmic cadence, "just because you're in love with an uptown girl." "Someday when my ship comes in, maybe you'll understand what kind of guy I've been," he says as he twirls you around the subway station. After he catches you in his arms you share a rather short but passionate kiss. You so fervently wish that this fleeting moment could last longer, but you realize that the two of you have drawn in quite the crowd of your own with your display. As the awareness of the situation sets in you hastily straighten up your clothes a bit and give a silent nod to the musicians, one of whom flashes Kiba a thumbs-up before going back to performing.

It had been many years since you visited your hometown, but you still remember how to get to your favourite destinations without consulting a map. Kiba knew how excited you were for this trip, so he made sure to clear his schedule well in advance. You were quite far from Konoha, the trip taking almost an entire day because of the extended layover in Chicago. Couldn't be helped, you thought to yourself, O'Hare is always a hot mess. At least they didn't lose our luggage this time, you shrug to yourself as you briskly grab your suitcases off of the baggage carousel.

After finishing up the final leg of your journey you and Kiba checked into a hotel in Midtown Manhattan. You were used to commuting from Jersey, but you wanted Kiba's first trip to the area to be an unforgettable experience, so you didn't mind spending the extra ryō. No expenses were to be spared, after all this is your anniversary celebration.

Your circadian rhythm was altered because of all of the travelling, the unrivaled enthusiasm circulating your core powering your insomnia with a fervent vigor. But while Kiba was losing his battle against jet lag you eagerly typed away on the notes app on your cell phone, writing up a list of everything you wanted to do with him tomorrow. You could scarcely contain your excitement, your heart fluttering as you envision the pure joy and festivities to come.

Your sleep schedule was always a bit unconventional, but it meshed well with Kiba's unpredictable shifts at work. Sometimes Kiba would have to respond to calls in the middle of the night or wee hours of the morning. "It's hard being this popular," is what he'd usually say before heading off to patrol the precinct. He took pride in his work, and Kōtarō acknowledged Kiba as one of the top officers in Konoha, so there was no way he would ever shirk his responsibilities to Konoha. But for this next week his only responsibility was to you, his girlfriend, and he always kept his promises.

You glance over at the clock next to the bed, choosing to do that instead of looking at the time on your phone because you couldn't resist sneaking another peek at Kiba cuddling Akamaru in his sleep. 5:30 PM. It would be just before sunrise if you were in Konoha right now. Normally you would be sleeping right now, but your anticipation for all of the exhilarating adventures to come put your brain into overdrive. The only thing that could quell your frenzied thoughts was, rather unfortunately, snoozing right now, so you had to make due with some maladaptive daydreaming for the main course this evening.

"Mmm..mmhm... princess..." you could hear Kiba mumbling softly in his sleep.

I wonder if he's having a good dream tonight, you chuckle to yourself as you walk over to the windowsill. You open the curtains with a light touch, endeavoring to be as quiet as possible so as not to awaken your company. The late October sun was already setting over the horizon, a serene twilight beginning to overtake the skyline. You could see the faint twinkle of a few stars glitter in the sky interspersed between the blinking headlights of the planes making their arrival into the city. The familiar hum of their engines was a sweet, nostalgic symphony to your ears.

You spend a few good minutes taking in the view of the Manhattan skyline, tracing the reminiscent shapes of the nearby buildings with a wistful yet pensive glance. It feels so good to be back home, you muse to yourself before delicately closing the curtains and returning to your seat.

As the moon begins its conspicuous journey across the night sky you carefully rock yourself back and forth in the office chair, your musings coming to life in bright and flashy colours. "Oh and I just have to take him here," you say to yourself in a hushed tone as you type away on your phone. "We can't forget about Grand Central Station or Bryant Park either. I don't think the big Christmas tree is up just yet, but he'll definitely want to see Rockefeller Center."

The hands on the analog clock above your head move steadfastly as the minutes melt into hours. Being completely enraptured by your fantasies of the days to come, you didn't notice the moon bidding you farewell as she quietly dissolved, taking with her the boisterous yet somewhat serene cacophony of early morning traffic. The loud blaring of a nearby siren snaps you out of your contemplative trance.

You look over at the clock again. 7:00 AM. You were honestly surprised with how fast time seemed to evaporate from your grasp, marching on with a cold indifference. You two only had so long in the city, and you wanted to make the most of it. At the very least, Kiba was asleep for these past few hours so it didn't feel like a total waste. Still, you didn't want to squander even a second of precious time with your love.

You shift your focus back to your phone, reviewing the itinerary you drafted up with a revitalized sense of purpose. Nothing would stop you from giving Kiba the best week he's ever had. The only inquiry that stubbornly endured, floating in your mind with a gnawing persistence was what to start with.

"Hm, I guess we could kick off our trip with the Empire State Building. Or is that too blasé? Once you've been in one big building, it's like you've seen them all. We could drop by the New York Public Library, but I don't think he'd appreciate the classics as much as I do. And I could definitely see him complain that the lion statues out in front should be replaced with sculptures of dogs instead," you bring up a hand to your mouth to suppress a chuckle trying to escape as you think of Kiba grumbling and moaning about how a giant statue of Akamaru would look way cooler than some lame ass lions.

"And what are you giggling about over there, princess?" you hear the sleepy baritone reverberate through the room with a candid sense of curiosity.

"Oh, it's nothing," you chime back while your efforts to stifle your laughter prove to be futile.

"I don't know about that, it looks like this is an issue I'll have to investigate further," Kiba remarks as he gets up from the bed and saunters towards you. "Looks like I'll have to bust out one of my secret techniques today."

"Don't tell me you're-"

Kiba blurts out a brisk, "Tickle no jutsu," before you're able to respond. His light and feathery brushing on your flanks sparks an unstoppable electric current that pulsates through your neurons and stimulates your body with a fiery zeal.

"S-stop it," you manage to babble after succumbing to the onslaught of his galvanizing touch, "You win, you win."

"Tell me what I win," Kiba proclaims with a little wink, still closely holding onto your body with his brawny arms.

"A taste of my secret technique," you simper as you turn around slightly, angling your body so that you have a clear path to your target. You then press yourself closer to Kiba while standing on your tiptoes and sink your teeth down into the flesh of his neck with a firm but coy ferocity.

You can feel a groan resonating in his throat, the vibrations tickling your incisors, but you decide to not relent, instead doubling down on your efforts by dragging your nails coquettishly along his back.

A thrumming moan caresses your eardrums with a melodious echo as you continue your assault on his unsuspecting hide. You relish in each tantalizing frequency escaping from his lips.

"So frisky first thing in the morning, I like it," he manages to whine out in a frail attempt at maintaining his composure. You're very well acquainted with all of his erogenous zones, so you're beyond confident you could devour his entire heart right now if you wanted to. But giving him a small taste of these humble hors d'oeuvres, a tantalizing sampler of promiscuity, would only fuel his voracious appetite further and more intensely as the day dragged on, so you decide to relinquish for now.

You pull your lips back from his neck as you say, "Just wait till the main course tonight." You couldn't help but be kittenish when you were engulfed in Kiba's embrace like this. The demure front you put up around others came crashing down whenever the two of you were alone, or rather, almost alone.

You hear a faint sniffle from the other side of the room. As you turn your head and shift your gaze you see Akamaru yawning as he lazily scratches his floppy ears with his back paws. Akamaru was just as much your family as Kiba was, so there was no question about him joining you this week. That did mean, though rather unfortunately, that you'd have to be a little more PG than you had anticipated and hoped-for.

"But before that, how's about you and I get this party started?" You shift your focus back to Kiba, flashing him a smile as you gently place your hands around his shoulders, your fingertips making tiny circles as you stroke his skin with a tender softness.

"A party? I'm more interested in a private show," he protests as he looks into your eyes pleadingly.

"We didn't travel to the other side of the world to spend the whole time in a hotel room, Kiba." It's true you would love to spend more time cooped up in this room with him, but you weren't going to let yourself give in to the temptation. There would be plenty of time for promiscuity after you ticked off everything on your travel bucket list. Who knows the next time you'd both have the opportunity to visit Manhattan, especially considering Kiba's hectic work schedule.

"Such a tease. You sure know how to rile a guy up," he responds in a cheeky tone, "But that will only make my dessert this evening that much sweeter."

"Dessert? Don't you think you're jumping the gun a bit there, hon?"

"Oh, so you wanted to do gunplay this weekend? Sorry, the TSA wouldn't let me bring my usual fare with me, something about it being a misdemeanor in this jurisdiction."

This man. This incredibly foolish man.

"It," you start laughing a bit as the words escape your quivering larynx, "-it's a figure of speech, Kiba. I wasn't literally talking about a gun."

"I totally knew that. Yeah, I was just testing you. Ahahaha.... haha... ha." Kiba couldn't hide his crimson cheeks from your omniscient glance this time.

"Anywaysss," Kiba flounders, attempting to change the subject before he has to admit that he misspoke, "what did you want to do today, princess? I know you used to be a local 'round here."

You were so engrossed in the absurdity of his previous remarks you needed to take a few moments to compose yourself before answering.

"Let me go grab my phone real quick," you say as you give Kiba a short but sweet parting kiss on the cheek before being released from his embrace.

You open up the notes application on your phone and start scrolling down, contemplating about which suggestion would make the most sense. There were no doubt an endless plethora of things to do in the city, but you wanted to make your first outing together an unforgettable adventure.

"Wow, you really came prepared!" Kiba guffaws as he sees you attentively scrolling down the list of options you find yourself feverishly perusing through.

"You know me. I've never met a list I didn't like," you say pragmatically as you push up the bridge of your glasses with your index finger.

It was true, you were always planning ahead. It gives you peace of mind to write down your musings in order to collect your thoughts. The myriad ideas floating in your consciousness at any one time were overwhelming, so writing was the best way for you to make some sense of the bedlam. It was rather amusing when you thought about the stark contrast between your erudite approach to life versus Kiba's passionate resilience and adaptability. He may not be as well-learned as you, but what he lacks in book smarts he makes up for in determination.

"Hm," you hum to yourself as you sort through the possibilities prancing through your mind, the pirouettes of whimsy filling your imagination with dozens of scenarios playing out like a theatrical performance on a Broadway stage."How about? No, that won't do."

"Oh, what won't do?" Kiba asked as he shot you an expectant gaze.

"I was thinking of taking you to the New York Public Library or the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but I don't think they allow dogs," you glance over at Akamaru as you say those final words.

"I don't know why not. Akamaru's better behaved than most people," Kiba huffs with a shrug as he acquiesces.

"Yeah, but I definitely don't want to stir up any trouble. Oh, I got it!" you clap your hands together when a bolt of inspiration smacks you with the most glorious divination.

"Why don't we stop by Central Park? There's tons of space there for Akamaru to run around, and there will be plenty of other dogs there."

"We came all this way just to see a park?" Kiba asked incredulously, a baffled tone that reeked of innocent cluelessness.

"It's not just a park," you respond with a snarky chide, "It's the park around here. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

"Well, how could I possibly say 'no' to that? C'mon Akamaru, let's get ready to go!" Akamaru bellows out an excited howl as he jumps up and dashes over to Kiba's side.

Hand in hand you and Kiba leave your hotel room, ready for an exciting day out in the city. The morning sun's rays glistening in the dew drops that cover the scattered blades of grass poking through the slabs of sidewalk beneath your feet. Even in this veritable concrete jungle that you used to call home there were a handful of reminders that nature flourished just outside of the city's borders. Today, though, you were going to experience the majesty of the wilds from the comforts of your old stomping grounds.

"Before we head over to Central Park, let's pick up some breakfast," you suggest while looking up at Kiba.

"Sure, what do you recommend, princess?" Kiba responded with a smile on his face.

"We have to get bagels." you reply instantaneously, almost as if you'd rehearsed the line beforehand.

"Bagels?" The change in his voice's inflection exposed his lingering uncertainty.

"The freshest and most delicious bagels you'll ever eat," you reply while tugging on his jacket ever so slightly, trying to nudge him into agreement. He could sense your insistence on the matter, so he chose to abandon any attempts at protesting. You did concede by promising to stop by a pet store first to pick up breakfast and some treats for Akamaru before you made your way to your favourite bagel shop.

"Can I have a taylor ham, egg, and cheese on a sesame seed bagel? Toasted, please. Hold the ketchup." you holler out your order to the worker behind the counter. They give you a tacit nod and get to work on your breakfast.

Kiba, impressed by the innate skill with which you ordered, had a perplexed look of confusion on his face as he read the menu to himself.

"What is a bagel with 'lox'?" he asks while pointing to a picture on the laminated paper in front of him.

"Lox is salt-cured, smoked salmon. If you want something less salty I'd recommend the nova lox," you respond while gesturing towards the display cases in front of you.

"I never would have thought to try cream cheese and smoked salmon together. You sure do have some silly customs, princess." Kiba glances up from the menu to meet your steely gaze.

"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it," you reply with a subdued grin, trying to subtly goad him into action.

"You know what? Maybe I will try it. Hey mister, give me one of those lox bagels."

"You have to tell him what kind of bagel and if you want it toasted or not," you whisper to Kiba covertly, so as not to draw too much attention from the other people in the shop.

"What kinds of bagels are there?" Kiba responded with a puzzled expression on his face.

"So many different kinds, you've got sesame seed bagels, onion bagels, egg bagels, french toast bagels, cinnamon raisin bagels..." you prattle off the list you'd committed to memory years ago when you used to work in a bagel shop, "and we can't forget about the everything bagel."

"The 'everything bagel'?" Kiba said with an emphasis on the second word, a questioning tone in his voice.

"Yes, it has a bunch of different toppings. It's one of my personal favourites," you say as the reminiscent taste of the culinary delight tickles the basal ganglia in your neocortex.

"Sounds good, I'll have those of those everything bagels with lox, sir," Kiba calls out to the worker across the counter.

"Toasted, please," you respond without a moment's hesitation. "Trust me," you murmur in Kiba's direction, "you'll thank me later."

After grabbing breakfast you gluttonously unwrap the foil around your glutenous delicacy and devour it in a few bites. "Best bagels in the whole damned world. You can't get them like this anywhere else," you mutter under your breath.

"Wow, this is actually pretty tasty," Kiba says while enjoying generous mouthfuls of his bagel sandwich with gusto, "So you really got to eat like this every day when you used to live here?"

"Mhm. The food was just one of the many perks of living close to the city," you recall as you look up at Kiba while he finishes his breakfast with a few final chomps.

"The tap water here is also divine," you continue on as you feel the familiar and distinct taste of the scrumptious cocktail on the tip of your tongue.

"Oh, what makes it better than the water back in Konoha?" Kiba says as he promptly brushes some crumbs off of his cheeks.

"It might not be kosher, but there's tiny crustaceans called 'copepods' living in the water. They make it extra delicious," you muse as you bring your hand up to your chest with a dainty flourish.

"Crustaceans?" You could see the hamster wheel in Kiba's head spinning extra rapidly as he repeated the word back to you.

"Y'know, like shrimp? Think of it as getting an added bonus on top of the hydration, a special little treat."

"Aren't shrimp bugs?" Kiba responds with a mildly disgruntled tone in his voice.

"No, they're not. Besides, it's extra protein," you chuckle as you flex your arm to show off your biceps, "I thought you were all about bulking up. Or maybe I'll be able to bench more than you if we stay here long enough." You look over from your muscles to Kiba as you see a glint of fire ignite in his eyes.

"Is that a challenge I hear, princess?" The playful yet amorous undertones in his voice can't help but make you smile, the most presumptuous grin overtaking your countenance.

"You never turn down a challenge, I hear." The self-satisfied look on your face as you realize that you just beguiled him into implicitly promising to stay hydrated is priceless.

"You're damned right I don't. Now hand over that water," Kiba says as he reaches for the bottle in your purse. He takes the biggest gulp imaginable before letting out a boastful exhale.

You judiciously choose to withhold the fact that the water in the bottle he just drank from isn't NYC tap water, instead lightly tugging on his jacket to grab his attention.

"C'mon, let's take the subway to Central Park. I can't wait to show you around," you beamed affectionately in his direction.

"Alright, princess, lead the way," he said as made an exaggerated motion with his hand, sweeping across the stretch of space in front of you with an affable cheerfulness.

You intertwine your fingers with his as you lead the charge to the nearest subway station. You already have your credit card out of your wallet and in your other hand, ready to tap the both of you in without hesitation. A few minutes later and you pass through the Times Square turnstiles with a lithe airiness.

"Times Square is way more impressive at night. We'll come back here later," you assure Kiba as you gently pull on the arm of his jacket, leading him confidently to the 1 Line.

Kiba looks around at all of the signs surrounding you with a confused expression on his face. He didn't even have to say a word before you responded with, "We're taking the 1 train. C'mon, this way."

You could hear a familiar tune echoing throughout the corridors of the subway station. There were a few musicians set up nearby, belting out a harmonious tune while reenacting a few scenes from a particular music video you were very well acquainted with.

"Are we going uptown or downtown?"

"Uptown," you respond without a modicum of doubt in your voice.

"Heh, I guess you're a real uptown girl," Kiba responds with a smug assuredness in his tone.

"Oh hush, you." You could already tell where this conversation was going the second he uttered those words, the chorus of the nearby performers no doubt spurring on his unusually quirky behavior today.

"Y'know, when you're walking you're looking so fine-ine-ine," Kiba began in a singsong voice, "and when you're talking you just know I love it when you say you're mine-ine-ine."

Kiba knew how much you loved the classics, and he couldn't help himself but tease you whenever the opportune situation arose. Two could play at that game though, no one knew the lyrics to your favourite songs better than you.

"Despite your appearance, you're not so tough," you jest back at Kiba with a rhythmic cadence, "just because you're in love with an uptown girl."

"Someday when my ship comes in, maybe you'll understand what kind of guy I've been," he says as he twirls you around the subway station. After he catches you in his arms you share a rather short but passionate kiss. You so fervently wish that this fleeting moment could last longer, but you realize that the two of you have drawn in quite the crowd of your own with your display.

As the awareness of the situation sets in you hastily straighten up your clothes a bit and give a silent nod to the musicians, one of whom flashes Kiba a thumbs-up before going back to performing.

"Well, that was fun." The pheromones were practically radiating off of Kiba's skin at this point. You could feel their brilliant presence circulating through the air, ensnaring you in a covert trap from which there was no easy escape. The only thing keeping you grounded right now was your ever-increasing embarrassment, accumulating at catastrophically high levels.

"C'mon, weren't you gonna show me that park?" Kiba's voice cuts through the awkwardness like a hot knife through the butter of your soul.

"It's not just that park." You would be more exasperated if you weren't so grateful for this man's severe lack of decorum. This brief reprieve from the embarrassment was fortunately enough for you to strengthen your resolve.

"It's called Central Park, and we should get going before we miss another train," you implore as you clutch Kiba's hand in your own once more and motion towards the nearby staircase with a beseeching look.

"Alright, let's do this!" Kiba exclaims as he jubilantly scampers throughout the station, holding onto your hand tightly as you approach the platform together.

"We're going to get off at 72nd Street," you instruct as you walk onto the train with Kiba, Akamaru shadowing you both, closely in tow.

"You know where you're going, right? I'll just be following you anyways. Ha ha ha," Kiba roars as you shake your head with the slightest hint of reproach. Although, could you have honestly expected anything else from this man? His unbridled confidence touched every aspect of his life, and that included his faith in you, his girlfriend. It honestly was a nice change of pace, him letting you take the lead for once and giving you the opportunity to take him along for a wild ride.

As the brakes of the train car screech and the incomprehensible garble of the conductor flowed through the airwaves with a thick discordance you look up at Kiba to let him know that this is your stop. You hop off the train with a buoyant leap and guide your love through the station and onto the street.

"Alright, it's just a few blocks down this way," you say as you turn to the right, your voice filled with an unrivaled exuberance.

"Y'hear that, Akamaru? We're almost there!" Akamaru lets out an excited yelp as he ambles alongside Kiba.

The lavish hues of the foliage take over the scenery as you draw closer to your destination. Splotches of yellows and oranges dotted the landscape with their wistful presence, a beautiful yet melancholy reminder of the transitory nature of life. As the seasons change in an unrelenting cycle so do the myriad creatures that call these woods home. No doubt there were new generations of fauna living here since you last visited, but the unabating feeling of wonder you experienced every single time you entered the park was the same as always.

"And here we are," you announce as you sensually extend your hand, sweeping it across the air with a fluid and rhythmical motion.

"W...Wow," is all Kiba manages to stammer out as he takes in the sights of the park. You could hardly blame him for being awestruck, you were the same exact way the first time you visited Central Park.

You did want to make the most out of the limited daylight hours, especially this time of year, so you volunteered your hand to him once again. Seeing you summon him with such a genial expression was enough to snap Kiba out of his trance. You interlaced your fingers together as you began your late morning journey, a grandiose gala that was sure to bewitch and delight.

You're greeted by an enormous pergola with a plethora of plants twisting and tangling every which way as they adorned the top and sides of the wooden structure. You stroll under splendid architecture with a light step, the cool breeze caressing your cheeks with its slithering zephyrs. It was a mite frigid this time of year, but you always preferred the chill of autumn over the scorching heat of summer.

As you pass under the tendrils trembling in the wind you turn to Kiba and tell him, "Before we go any further you have to put Akamaru on a leash."

"What? Wait, why?" You could hear consternation in the timbre of his voice.

You point over to a nearby sign with a cautious finger. "DOGS MUST BE LEASHED" was printed in bold, capitalized letters. "Sorry, it's just customary around here to keep your pets leashed."

"Akamaru's not just a pet, he's family!" Kiba protests reluctantly before begrudgingly acquiescing.

"I know, I know. But we don't want to get kicked out by a police officer," you shrug as you hand over the leash you prepared in advance.

"Who do you think you're talking to, princess? There's no way they'd arrest me!" Kiba proudly exclaims as he lets out a roaring laugh.

"They can and will in this jurisdiction. I don't think Eric Adams will appreciate an officer overstepping his authority."

"Who?"

"The mayor of New York City. He used to be a NYPD police captain. He's not as lenient as Kōtarō is, so I wouldn't press your luck." You shake your head as you let out a disheartened sigh.

"Alright, fine. Sorry Akamaru, I'll make it up to you later," Kiba says as he hesitantly attaches the leash to the crimson collar around Akamaru's neck.

"I was going to keep this a surprise for later, but there's a big area where Akamaru can run around freely. We just have to make sure he's on a leash when we're walking on the pathways," you offer up your condolences to Kiba with a hushed sigh.

"Sweet! How's about we go there first then?" You can feel the enthusiasm in Kiba's voice as he perks back up, almost instantaneously.

"Hah, I had a feeling you'd say that. Well lucky for you we're pretty close to the area. C'mon, let's go this way," you say as you start jogging with a sprightly sprint. Kiba, infected by your vivacity, energetically follows along with Akamaru by his side.

You make your way to a fenced in clearing where dozens of people are playing with their pups, each engrossed in their own spheres of jubilation. The microcosms before you serve as a testament to the bond that each human shares with their pet, their precious and irreplaceable family members.

As you enter the field with Kiba you unhook Akamaru's leash from his collar. Kiba hollers out a brisk, "Let's go, Akamaru," as he runs across the grassy meadow with reckless abandon.

You decide to sit down on a nearby boulder and watch the two of them frolic together, your heart filling with joy as each passing second ticks by. You're not sure how long they spend playing together, and you honestly wouldn't care if your entire day consisted of this. The bliss you feel from watching your love as happy as he can be is all you could ever ask for.

The sun continues its journey across the sky, its rays filling your cheeks with a radiant warmth as it illuminates the world before you. You see Kiba and Akamaru scampering in your direction, drawing closer with each mirthful stride. You hear the damp earth squelch under their treads as they make their way to your side once more.

"Whew, what a workout," Kiba pants as he plops down next to you on the boulder. "I think I'm about ready to move onto the next area now. I got all of my cardio in for the day."

"We'll have to leash Akamaru again. Are you okay with that?" you ask Kiba while tenderly nudging some of the long, slightly moist strands of dark brown hair stuck to the sides of face.

"Yeah, I think we've had our fun for today. Right, Akamaru?" As Kiba looks over to Akamaru he's greeted by a spirited bark.

"He wants to see more of the park too," Kiba petitions with an imploring pout.

"Alright, if you insist. Let's get going then," you announce as you stand up, brushing the accumulated dust off of your clothes. "There's some beautiful architecture around here that I'm dying to show you."

"Sounds good to me, your explanations can make even the most boring slabs of rocks appear cool," he clamorously laughs as he fastens Akamaru's leash once more.

Oh yeah, you made the right decision by not taking him to the Metropolitan Museum of Art today.

You leave the field hand in hand with Akamaru by your side, directing Kiba's attention to the marvelous statues decorating the nearby surroundings.

Kiba feigns understanding when you attempt to explain the meaning behind the art. As you start elucidating him about Ludwig van Beethoven's life and renowned works Kiba responds with, "Well if this song is supposedly super famous, why is it called 'Symphony Number 5' instead of 'Symphony Number 1'?"

You make a mental note to scratch every museum off of your itinerary once you get back to the hotel. You were an absolute fool to think that for even a fraction, an iota of a second that Kiba would appreciate the masterpieces, the veritable magnum opuses of all time, in the same way that you would. It was best to enjoy those treasures on your own time.

This was fine, though, you each had your own interests and were your own person. It wasn't healthy to lose your own sense of self and personality when you were dating someone else, so a part of you was actually grateful that you shared many differences with Kiba. A core tenant of intimacy is being able to appreciate the idiosyncrasies and distinguishing characteristics of your partner without being engulfed by them.

"And over here is the Naumburg Bandshell, it's a famous amphitheater where free classical concerts have been performed for the last century," you say as you point towards the magnificent building standing before you.

Kiba tries his best to appear as though he understands what you're trying to explain, but you could see that his focus was waning. You decide to change things up a bit as you offer up a scintillating panacea to the humdrum afflicting his psyche. "Hey, why don't we walk down by the water next? The Bethesda Fountain is simply gorgeous, and there's a great view I'd love to show you."

"I've already got a great view right here," Kiba says with a conceited smirk on his face.

"Oh hush, you." You squeeze his hand with just enough force to let him know you didn't appreciate his jest.

"But yeah, that's a great proposition. That's my princess for you, she's always got the best ideas!" Kiba's eyes beam with a sparkling effervescence as he looks over at you.

As you make your way closer to the Bethesda Terrace, a procession of horse drawn carriages pass in front of you. You can see that Kiba is mystified by the strange occurrence, his mouth agape as he stands there speechless by your side.

"Oh yeah, I guess this is your first time seeing a cavalcade like this in person. Horses aren't as widely used in Konoha, after all." You look over to see that Kiba's eyes are fixated on one particular carriage nearby. A gorgeous white horse is at the fore of the carriage, lavender and cream coloured flowers adorning the vehicle with an unparalleled vibrance. The velvety seats enticing you with their plum flavored splendor.

"C'mon tiger, you don't even want to know how expensive a ride in one of those is," you say as you gently tug on Kiba's arm before continuing, "Besides, there's a more private location I wanted to show you."

That was all Kiba needed to hear. Without missing a beat he turns around as you walk down the enormous flight of stairs to the bustling plaza area.

You're welcomed with a surprisingly euphonious cacophony consisting of the hubbub of folks peddling their wares, musicians ardently strumming their instruments, children playfully skipping and exploring their surroundings, and other captivated tourists such as yourselves. You see a married couple taking their wedding photos next to the Bethesda Fountain. The sight can't help but put a smile on your face as you fantasize what your own wedding day with Kiba will be like.

As you promenade around the fountain with a leisurely gait, admiring the elegant and opulent Angel of the Waters statue, you squeeze Kiba's hand ever so slightly to grab his attention.

"This fountain right here? It commemorates the opening of the Croton Aqueduct. Back in the 1800s it was a pretty big deal since the aqueduct brought the first fresh water into the city."

"So it's because of this lady that you guys have bugs in your water?" Kiba inquires with an amused look on his face.

"For the last time they're crustaceans, not bugs. But yes, she's a symbol of the healing power of clean and fresh water." you say as you shake your head in exasperation.

"What's her number? I'm sure Shino would just love to meet a bug lady," Kiba jives as he tries to repress the laughter inextricably building up in his core.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that," you utter in a hushed tone as you continue your voyage around the plaza.

You're greeted by a positively resplendent lake as you finish your trek in the piazza. Verdant hues of green bounce off of the water's surface and nuzzle the cones of your eyes with their virid embrace. Dozens of couples are sitting in rowboats, enjoying their own little slice of heaven as the autumn breeze cavorts indiscriminately throughout the park.

You take a minute to appreciate the view before Kiba offers up a suggestion, "Do you think they allow dogs on those boats?"

"Sadly, they don't. But we can always come back here another time. C'mon the best is yet to come. I need to show you my favourite spot," you assert as you haul Kiba away from the pond, breaking his enchantment with some help from a quick peck on the cheek.

"At least we can walk around the Loeb Boathouse on the way. Actually, we'll have a pretty good view of the rowboats once we make it there." It's true, the vantage point that awaited you was a glorious and secluded perch, an oasis of peace and tranquility that persisted despite being surrounded by the chaos of the city.

After passing the boathouse you signal to Kiba to take a left turn onto a dirt path. It's a rather unassuming route, in fact it barely resembled a pathway at all. Kiba shoots a perplexed look in your direction, but he's met with a nod of assurance that assuages his lingering doubt.

"We're almost there," you assure him in a comforting tone.

As you shrewdly climb over the winding tree roots, employing a moderate amount of astute judgment with each step you take, you feel Kiba's grip tighten around your hand as he catches himself before almost tumbling to the ground. You help him maintain his balance before letting out a lighthearted taunt, "Looks like you'll be the one falling for me today."

"You got me there. You win this time, princess." He would normally be a little more miffed at your teasing, but today was a special occasion.

"Anddd, we're here," you proclaim as you push away a few stray tree boughs, clearing your line of sight with an upbeat flourish.

The view that awaited you filled your very soul with an incomparable ebullience, the likes of which you hadn't experienced in years. The vibrant flora, dyed with a multitude of vivid pigments, evoking an insipid sense of both wonder and despondence. The neverending cycle of death and rebirth reflected in the simple elegance of the humble vegetation that dotted the landscape before you.

Why must life always be at its most beautiful right before it ends, a silent inquiry floats in your mind as you admire the leaves fluttering in the zephyrs. Or maybe it's because life ends that we can appreciate the transient resplendence that envelops all living beings.

The dichotomy of the lush trees juxtaposed with the skyscrapers off in the distance gives you chills. The tops of the buildings kiss the afternoon sky with their steely indifference, in stark contrast to the rich verdure, an effluence of life and vitality holding on with a tight grip. It was still early into the season, and the blissfully unaware plants around you exuded an infectious zest for life.

"Wow," is the only thing Kiba manages to murmur as the two of you stand together, enjoying the view.

"Why don't we sit down and enjoy some lunch?" you suggest as you rustle in your bag for the bentos that you prepared last night during your bout of insomnia.

"I'd love to, princess!" You can hear the excitement in Kiba's voice as he graciously accepts your offer.

You elegantly place a blanket down, gingerly putting the bento boxes on top of it before standing back up and beckoning Kiba to come closer. As he draws nearer you reach out your arm, placing it around his back and pulling him in so that you can plant a smooch on his cheek. How many seconds did you leave your lips there? 10? 30? Time has no meaning when you're spending it enraptured by your lover's presence.

Kiba put his arms around your waist, embracing you with a lascivious greediness that you were all too familiar with. As you draw your face back and look into his glistening eyes you could see the salacious undertones in his visage.

You finally had a moment of respite from the crowds, the throngs of people that were an irrefutable fact of the city, so why not give into temptation a little bit?

You lead the charge by placing one of your hands behind Kiba's head so you could push his face a little closer to your own. You then seductively press your lips against his with a passionate fervor. He returns your efforts in spades by forcing his tongue into your mouth, tickling your gums at a rhythmical pace. He traces the outlines of your teeth with his tongue while bringing one of his arms up further on your back so he can squeeze you closer to his chest.

You can't help but let a few erotic moans escape from your core as you desperately try to hold onto your sense of propriety. You are in a public park, after all.

Kiba then releases your lips from his own so that he can redirect his attention to your neck. He knows how sensitive you are there, and he can't help but arouse your lust by using his expertise regarding your intimate intricacies against you. After a brisk crack of his neck he swoops in with a carnal ferocity and begins sucking and nibbling on your neck.

You can barely contain yourself at this point, choosing to relinquish any remnants of discretion you had left. Your nails vigorously claw at the skin of his back, leaving scarlet marks in their wake. He reciprocates your zeal by pressing his canines into your soft and supple flesh with enough force to draw blood. You could feel the dizziness that accompanied the sensation of blood loss overtake your consciousness, you find yourself drifting helplessly in the red sea of emotion. Kiba pridefully stands at the helm, navigating your vessel any which way he sees fit.

You absolutely loved the feeling of being putty in Kiba's strong hands, loved it when he molded you into the breathtaking muse of his deepest desires. The varnish that you cloaked yourself in most days was all too easily expunged by his charisma and inexplicable charm.

As Kiba continues to gnaw on your neck the burning pressure building up inside of you becomes unbearable. You can't stop yourself from whimpering out his name, "Ki-kiba."

He temporarily stops the assault on your neck to whisper in your ear, "I love it when you say my name, princess."

At this point you were seeing shimmering stars in your vision, an aural migraine consisting of squiggles waltzing amongst the leaves in an unrelenting deluge. It couldn't be helped, every time Kiba stimulated your corporeal desires you could feel the frenzy overtaking your psyche. There was nothing that could be done, so you might as well enjoy the ride.

Kiba returns his focus to your neck once more, this time channeling his energy into sucking rather than biting. You could feel the damp sensation of his saliva as it mixed with the droplets of your blood. Audible slurps mixed with the canorous howls of pleasure saturated your eardrums and satiated your indecent cravings with the sweetest ambrosia.

As he releases your skin from its prurient penitentiary he takes a minute to admire the rather huge and splotchy hickey you were now sporting. "Good," he simpers with a self-satisfied grin, "Now everyone will know that you're spoken for."

Kiba always did have a thing for marking you, and honestly, you were into it too. Wearing his love and adoration for you on your very flesh was such a turn on. If you weren't in public you might have asked him to partake in a little mid-afternoon watersports with you, but that could be saved for later. Oh right, you were in public.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind you heard the footsteps of someone approaching, no it was two people. Another couple saunters past Kiba and you, causing you to hide your flushed face by pressing it into Kiba's chest. Kiba chuckles a little bit when he sees how flustered you are.

"You're so fuckin' cute when you blush." You could hear a guffaw vibrating in his chest as he said those words.

"S-s-shut up," is all that you manage to stutter out.

You honestly wish you could stay like this forever in his arms, but you were unceremoniously interrupted by the rather embarrassing rumblings of your stomach.

"What's that, princess? Don't tell me you're hungry." The lighthearted jest deepens the crimson hue that was overwhelming your cheeks. You aren't able to give a response to Kiba because of your current predicament. Instead you choose to bury your face even further into his chest.

After around a minute or so like this Kiba gently takes a step back and crouches down a bit so he's closer to your level. "Whaddya say we have some lunch, princess?" he asks in a mild and soothing tone. You're able to squeak out a meager, "Mhm," as you shake your head in accordance.

You sit down next to Kiba, cozying up next to him as you hand him one of the bento boxes. As he opens it up he has the biggest grin on his face.

"Wow, you made all this just for me?" he remarks smugly, already knowing the answer to his rhetorical question.

Another "Mhm," escapes your lips as you try to avert your sheepish gaze, a sincere but futile attempt at modesty. The man knows everything about you, there's no reason to be so timid right now. Maybe it was because there was an audience right now, but the other couple was on the far side of the boulder, and they were too busy making out to pay heed to anything else. You were merely giving yourself excuses to not give into your temptation.

A quick bite to your bottom lip helps you snap out of your daze. If you were going to make your move, this would be the perfect time. You can't let your reservations hold you back, not on today of all days.

"Hey Kiba," you manage to blurt out, "do you want me to maybe... feed you?"

"Feed me?" Kiba repeats with an astonished yet pleased look on his face, "You're damned right I want you to feed me." After a short pause he follows up with, "Wow, you're being so forward today, princess. Gotta say, I'm digging the vibes."

That sassy leer on his face was all of the affirmation that you needed. You could already tell what he was going to say before a single word was uttered from those gorgeous lips of his.

"Alright then," you instruct Kiba as you grab your chopsticks and pick up an octopus weiner, "say 'Ah.'"

"Ahhh~" the whimsical manner in which he responds can't help but make you chortle a smidge as he chomps down on the flavorful morsel that you so diligently prepared earlier this morning.

A few more bites and now it's time for the rolled omelette. You made today's batch extra sweet because you know that's how he likes it even if he swears to the contrary. You intersperse some white rice in between his mouthfuls of omelette to mix things up a bit. The next thing on the menu is a delicious salad you tossed together with some walnuts, almonds, and cranberries. This is always Kiba's least favourite part of lunch, but you purposefully added a few different textures in there so he won't protest as much as usual.

To your surprise, he gobbles everything down with a voracious appetite, savoring every crumb of food, even the grains of rice. If only he'd clean his plate like this when you were back at home.

"Mmm," he moans with a euphoric expression on his face, "my compliments to the chef."

"Now are you ready for your dessert?" you seductively wink as you proposition your man.

"There's more?" he responded with a curious inflection in his voice, "Of course I'm fuckin' ready, let's go, baybee."

You let out a flirtatious giggle as you hold up your index finger to your lips. "Shhh, it's a secret. You'll just have to wait and see what I have in store."

"Ugh. You're such a little vixen, you know that?" he shoots back at you, emphasizing his frustration at your provocations.

"Yeah, I know." You stick out your tongue, your index finger perched on your chin now while you relish in your brattiness, "It'll be that much sweeter the longer you have to wait, trust me."

"So fuckin' naughty," he shakes his head a bit, but his genuine intrigue stops him from complaining too much.

The dearth of objections emboldens your resolve. You decide to give another saucy response to Kiba, "If you're a good boy today, I'll add a little cherry on top of your dessert."

"Now you're talkin' my language, princess," he says as he reaches over to claw at the skin on your exposed thighs with his sharp nails.

"But first, I think it's time for my lunch." You were so caught up with feeding Kiba you completely neglected to eat any of your own bento.

"How's about I reciprocate 'n feed ya, then?" Kiba stressed his syllables in the word "reciprocate," trying his hardest to pronounce the word correctly. You appreciate his efforts, even if he sounds a tad silly at times.

"I'd love that, actually," you reply while handing your bento box over to him.

"Alright, here comes the train say 'choo choo'." Kiba lifts up some of the rice along with one of the octopus weiners with the chopsticks and brings it closer to your mouth.

You respond with a "When leaving the train, please watch the gap," in a robotic voice before taking a bite of the culinary creation. With your mouth partially full you chuckle, "Sorry, it's a Jersey girl thing."

"I'll never get tired of your silly jokes, even if I don't quite understand them. Oh, what's this? It looks like you got a little something over here, let me just..." Kiba says as he leans in and licks the corner of your mouth, pressing his tongue further and further in with each passing second. It looks like what you're actually hungry for today isn't on the menu. You let yourself give into the temptation as you run your fingers through his luscious locks and return his kiss with a passionate and fiery reckless abandon.

You leisurely cuddle with Kiba from the comfort of your secluded refuge for quite a long while before deciding that it's about time you make good on your promise. He's spent this past hour playing with your hair while periodically sniffing it, massaging your shoulders gently, and dragging his nails softly over your thick thighs, occasionally licking your neck when the mood strikes.

You wish you could stay like this for eternity, but there's still more you want to show him, so you muster up the motivation to pack up your empty bento boxes as you turn your body slightly to face him.

"I think it's almost time for dessert, you in?" you enquire with a salacious beckon of your finger.

"Hell yeah, I'm in!" Before you knew it the blanket and bento boxes were packed neatly away into your bag. If Kiba had a puppy dog tail it'd be wagging with so much unbridled enthusiasm that it would very well knock you right off your feet and into the lake. Thankfully, the only dog you had to concern yourself with today was Akamaru. He spent the past hour napping closeby, curled up a meter or so away from Kiba.

"Let's get going!" you exclaim as a sudden wave of confidence washes over you and you pump your fist into the air triumphantly.

Hand in hand once more, you lead Kiba back to the clandestine pathway and out to the main road. You take a few turns before arriving at The Ramble, a section of Central Park that you absolutely adored because of its rustic and scenic charm.

There were so many winding paths to choose from, it was hard to decide which one to follow first. You knew the general direction that you wanted to go in, so you let lady luck be your guiding light as you arbitrarily turned left then right before making one final left at the fork in the road. The beauty of Central Park was that all of these paths were connected, so there were no wrong decisions to be made.

This endless maze of wonder fascinates you to no end. You could easily spend all day traversing these meandering trails, engrossed in the splendor of nature. No doubt you would leave fulfilled and fully satisfied after a long walk through these woods, but you had a guest today who was not as easily gratified. As you pass over a quaint wooden bridge you're greeted by the comforting sounds of flowing water from a nearby brook.

You decide that this is the perfect time to slow down your pace a bit before coming to a standstill, Kiba mimicking your stride and stopping by your side as you bring his attention to the gigantic boulder standing before you.

"Race you to the top?" you ask as you glance over, looking for affirmation despite already knowing what his response will be.

"Oh it's on, princess." Kiba answered without a moment's hesitation. You could see his body stiffen ever so slightly as he begins to prepare himself for the sprint of a lifetime. You loosen your grip on Kiba's hand as it tenderly floats away.

You ready yourself by inhaling slowly through your nose and out through your mouth before lightly slapping your cheeks with your hands. You tense up the muscles in your legs and core, shifting your focus from Kiba to the finish line. You spiritedly call out a "3, 2, 1.... GO!" and with that you're both off.

You can see Kiba being extra flashy on purpose, jumping from the nearby tree branches no doubt in an attempt to impress you. You decide to concentrate your efforts on finding the shortest path to your destination, being mindful of the obstacles in your way. You easily hop over the small rocks jutting out of the ground, a few steps to the right and you're able to avoid that low hanging tree branch. A counter clockwise 45 degree turn and the home stretch descends upon you with a breakneck velocity.

As you take the last steps before you reach your goal Kiba drops down from a nearby tree bough, swiping victory out of your grasp with one final, vehement thud as the full weight of his body lands on the rock with an impressive amount of force. He vigorously throws his hands up to do a little victory pose while you take a moment to catch your breath.

"You," you take a second to inhale before continuing your statement, "You win, Kiba."

"Of course I win. Now where's my prize?" Kiba nudges you as he shoots you an expectant gaze.

"Right here," you say as you leap up to give him an affectionate hug. He catches you in his arms and hoists your legs up so he can princess carry you. You place one of your arms around the back of his neck, resting your hand on his shoulder blade. You then close your eyes shut and pucker your lips before you're greeted by the unmistakable feeling of his lips fondly pressing against your own. After a few seconds he begins to slide his tongue into your mouth, filling it once again with his succulent saliva. You can't help but squeal with delight when one of his hands finds its way to your breast, stroking it with a rhythmical tempo.

You can feel the heat build up inside your core once again as Kiba continues to fondle you while you squirm in pleasure. Oh, how dearly you wish that he would go one step farther right now. You can feel a wet spot begin to form in your crotch as he continues his onslaught. No, you couldn't let your wanton desires get the best of you, not in public. But there was still that part of you that wanted this to not only carry on, but escalate into something even more licentious.

As you wriggle in Kiba's arms you manage to free yourself from his smooches long enough to let out a, "Ki-kiba, we're still in public! What if someone sees us?"

He withdraws his troops when he hears your feeble cries of protest, responding with a "Sorry, you're just so fuckin' cute, I can't help myself."

You flash a superficial pout at him as you try to redirect his attention by saying, "You know what else is cute? This view. Take a look over there."

You could see the lake from earlier poking through the gaps in the lush vegetation that surrounded you. There were still a decent number of couples enjoying boat rides together, but the sun was past its apex in the sky and the slightest tinge of twilight began to overtake the sky. The brilliant yellows and oranges vibrate with a staunch temerity as they hang onto the trees for dear life while the cool autumn breezes assails their stalks. The handsome architecture of the buildings in the distance made for a lovely sight when compared with the contrasting abundance of nature filling the foreground.

"I don't know if I'd call it 'cute,' but the view sure is nice," Kiba replies before shifting his focus back to you. "But the best view? It's right here in my arms."

"Oh stop, hon. You're making me blush," you chirp as you unsuccessfully try to conceal your flushed cheeks with your hand.

"Awww, don't cover up your pretty little face from me. C'mon, I wanna see all of my girl." Kiba flashes you a warm smile that makes it feel as if you're melting in real time, disintegrating into a puddle of emotions.

If a stranger saw you right now you'd probably die from the sheer embarrassment.

It takes you a while, but you're finally able to give Kiba a response that will both satisfy him and rescue you from your current predicament. "See all of me? Well we better get going if you want that wish to come true."

That was all you needed to say. Kiba lovingly brings your legs down so you can hop to the ground. You then grab his hand with a precise and swift motion before intertwining your fingers together once more. With great haste, the two of you continue the last leg of your journey.

"Alright, so you're going to absolutely love this final location." Just thinking about the breathtaking view from the top of the castle you were planning on taking Kiba to sends a shiver down your spine.

"As long as I'm with you, any place is amazin'." You could hear the sincerity oozing out of his voice as he spoke those words.

"So, where I'm taking you is actually the second highest point in all of Central Park. The building there was designed to be a lookout tower, and it was even used as a weather station at one point. It's hard to explain how incredible the Belvedere is with just words, but you'll understand what I mean when you see it for yourself." You do your best to explain about Belvedere Castle without letting it slip that it's actually a castle. You know that Kiba will absolutely lose his mind and start calling you 'princess' incessantly when he realizes the truth.

As you approach the Belvedere and you're able to catch glimpses of its stony façade you brace yourself for the inevitable comments that are sure to follow. You could almost see the neurons in Kiba's brain firing extra hard when he comprehends just where you took him.

"Is that... a castle?" The incredulous tone in his voice was like a mellifluous symphony to your ears.

"Yes, yes it is." Your reply is filled with a smug self-assurance, growing stronger by the second.

"Princess, you just brought me to a castle? I can't believe my princess brought me to an actual castle. I don't know what I was expecting, but this was not it." Kiba, paralyzed by his bewilderment, holds his hand up to his dazed face, too stunned to do or say anything else until he hears your voice. "Yup, welcome to Belvedere castle, the pièce de résistance of our date today."

You take a second to admire the flabbergasted look on his face before continuing, "C'mere, you gotta see this view!"

You pull Kiba a little closer to your body, guiding him to the lookout area. "Over there is Turtle Pond. There are five different species of turtles that call this pond their home. Some of the turtles are actually former pets and are considered invasive species. It's not winter yet, but when it gets colder out the turtles burrow into the mud at the bottom of Turtle Pond."

"So you guys have turtles and bugs living in the water here?" Kiba was able to shake off his befuddlement with some assistance from your long-winded explanations. For once, your propensity to being unnecessarily verbose came in handy when it came to dealing with Kiba.

"For the last time they're not bugs, they're crustaceans!" You would be more upset with Kiba if you weren't so relieved that he was back to his usual self.

"Anyways, wow, now I know why you were hyping up this park so much. It's absolutely stunning. Almost more impressive than me, ah hah ha. Almost." Kiba let out a roaring, boisterous howl as you can't help but smile at your boyfriend's rather stale and contrived witticisms.

"Y'know what would be even better though?" Kiba releases his hand from yours and starts stroking the hairs on his chin with a glint in his eyes.

"Hm?"

"If we snuck up to the top of the castle and had our own private viewing session," Kiba said while giving you a lewd wink.

"But what about Akamaru?" you reach for any excuse to not give into the temptation.

"Akamaru will be fine by himself. Won'tcha, buddy?" Akamaru barks out a somewhat tired yet affirmative yelp. He lazily meanders over to a corner next to the castle and curls up in a comfortable position.

Drat. There goes your only valid excuse.

"Well that settles that." You could see a wicked grin forming on Kiba's face. "May I have the honor of one final dance with my princess this evening?"

You hesitantly extend your hand once more while shaking your head languidly in consent.

"But how are we going to get up ther- '' Your words are cut short by Kiba promptly sweeping you up into his arms, deftly maneuvering your body until he's princess carrying you yet again.

"You don't have to worry your pretty little head about that. I got it." A boastful roar erupts from his chest as he effortlessly cavorts around the castle to the back side, all while holding onto you with a virulent amount of hubris. A few confident leaps later and you're both on the roof of the castle.

He carefully puts you down, but only after passionately kissing your neck in the same spot where the dappled mixture of ribald reds and indecent purples endure with a risqué persistence. A stifled moan escapes your lips during this debacle with debauchery. Kiba's keen sense of hearing is omniscient, there's no way you can lead him astray while you're mewling like a cat in heat.

"Damn, you weren't kidding. This has gotta be the best view in this whole damned park." Kiba ogles at your body through the rectangle he's made with his thumbs and index fingers, pretending as if he were a famous artist getting ready to paint his muse.

"A little to the left, anddd perfect." A sly smirk emerges on his face as he slowly undresses you with his intense stare, deliberately and unhurriedly devouring your scrumptious curves with his eyes.

If there was any time to act, it would be now. You decide to discard your dignity and throw any remnants of your sense of decorum off the rooftop and into Turtle Pond as you offer up a flirtatious, "I know what will make this view even better."

"Oh, and what's that? Pray tell, princess." The sultry tone in which he says those words makes your heart flutter in pure, unadulterated ecstacy.

"Y'see, I'm feeling a bit stuffy in this dress," it's true you were feeling hot and bothered, "I could use a little help if you don't min-"

Before you could finish your proposal Kiba was already clawing at the tulle on your poofy halter dress, untying the straps with an unparalleled, feral intensity. As the straps haphazardly fall to your sides Kiba ravenously lifts the skirt portion of your dress over your head with one hasty but fluid motion. The rose gold garment is then unceremoniously tossed to the side as Kiba shifts his focus to your lusciously appetizing bare breasts. You never did like wearing bras, especially when there wasn't that much that needed support anyways.

"No bra again, princess? I love to see it. Or rather, not see it." Kiba begins to suggestively lick his lips as he rubs his hands together while emitting a mischievously naughty growl.

As your dress cascades to the ground next to you, let out a hedonistic chortle as you tempt Kiba with a, "Ready for your dessert, sugar?"

"D'ya even have to ask? Of course I'm ready," Kiba snarls those words in your ear as he slithers his hand down your body, stopping at your pelvic region. "I think there's just one more preparation we have to make first."

You place your own hand on top of his and guide him as he hooks his thumb under the waistband of your panties, stepping out of them gracefully as he yanks at the flimsy cotton with a carnal brutality. He brings the cloth up to his face to take a whiff before flinging them off to the side with an unrestrained fervour.

You then take a few steps back so you can perch yourself on a nearby wooden crate. You beckon to him with an alluring gesture, your index finger slightly twitching from all of the excitement. "This evening we'll be starting with a mouthwatering vegan friendly delicacy, followed up by the most delectable creampie."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" The inferno burning in Kiba's eyes scorches through every fibre of your being with its intensity, leaving a wasteland of charred and overloaded neurons in its wake.

"It sure does. Bon appétit, mon amour."

Kiba strides over with a heightened sense of purpose and bellows out a brisk, "Itadakimasu!" before shovelling his tongue into your quivering folds. With a gluttonous gusto he begins to greedily lap up your juices, savouring every drop. You whine in pleasure as he swirls his tongue in messy circles around your clit. The warmth building up in your core overtakes your sense of judgement as you helplessly squirm under the weight of his tongue, your panting becomes more audible by the second.

Kiba magnanimously decides to offer you a short reprieve when he temporarily halts his bombardment on your labia, looking up at you for confirmation, "You ready for the second course, princess?"

You're not quite able to form complete sentences right now, but you are able to give him a brisk nod along with a bashful, "Yes, pleaseee."

This time he brings his hand up to your trembling lips, stroking them with tender caresses as he expertly works his tongue into your vaginal opening. His fingers instinctively find your clit without hesitation, a light but purposeful touch that stimulates every cell in your being with an electrifying impulse. You have to admit, his dexterity is honestly amazing. No other guy you've been with before knows your body the way Kiba does.

You can feel the heat radiating throughout your entire body as Kiba continues to slurp up your slick, the fluids from your body intermingling with his saliva and morphing into a crude concoction of lustful desire. As you feel the indescribable pressure begin to build up, your whimpers begin to compound until you find yourself uncontrollably moaning his name.

"Kibaaa." The syllables escaping your lips are the sweetest honey, the most delicious topping on his dessert that he could ever ask for.

He pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper, every moan that he hears encouraging him to explore more of your cavern. He also stealthily increases the pressure he's applying against your clit the more you squirm. After all, every action must have an equal and opposite reaction, it's a basic principle of physics that applies even to this situation. You can't blame him for responding the way he does when you can't even think straight right now, your mind overrun with lascivious cravings.

"Kiba. Kibaaa," is all you manage to cry out as he takes a brief pause to reply in kind.

"Mmm, say my name again, princess. It drives me absolutely wild."

"I'm so close, Kiba, please don't stop." The urgency in your voice ignites an infernal blaze that can't be expunged until Kiba witnesses your full and complete satisfaction firsthand. A real gentleman always pleases his lady first.

Kiba nods to you in acknowledgement as he takes a moment to lick your juices off of his fingers before pressing his face down once more into your succulent folds. The sensation of his tongue massaging your clit causes the pressure inside of you to build up to critical levels. You don't know how much more of this you can handle before you pass the point of no return. While brushing your clit with measured strokes Kiba brings up his hand one more time and slowly inserts two fingers into your vagina. He steadily increases the frequency of his caresses, tickling your sensitive walls with a sublime proficiency.

"Ahhh, ahhh. Mmm." is all that you're able to mumble.

As his pace quickens, so does your breathing. You're holding onto the last shred of your composure with a single frayed thread that is dangerously close to breaking. All it would take is one final push and- you were unable to complete that thought because at that very moment Kiba pulsated his fingers against your G-spot. Again, there is it. He keeps on pressing up against it. The stimulation becomes too much to handle. You can feel the pressure overpower your senses as you let a tsunami of euphoria wash over you.

Kiba, feeling your throbbing vagina twitch around his fingers, knows that his task is complete. He lets out a "gochisousama deshita," before lifting up his face up to meet your gaze, enjoying every bit of your blissed out expression.

"So good..." you exhale as you feel a wave of peace fill envelop your soul, swathing it with an incomparable serenity.

"I love it when I get to see you like this," Kiba says as he brushes a few strands of hair out of your eyes. "Nothing makes me feel better than making my girl feel like the princess she is."

"Hehe~," you chuckle as you hold Kiba's hand against your cheek, etching this moment into your memory. This was definitely the best place for your first date in the city.

As you push yourself off of the wooden crate you were using for support, you offer up one final suggestion for the evening, "Round two?"

"You don't even have to ask, princess. Let's do this." Kiba moves his hand from your cheek down to your waist and tenderly spins you around so that your rear is facing him. He always was an ass-man. While other men tended to focus on your breasts, or lack thereof, Kiba was all about the "finer things in life." He couldn't resist digging his claws into your behind and taking small nibbles whenever he gave you rim jobs. Seeing him appreciate your assets so enthusiastically thrilled you to no end.

But a rim job wasn't on the menu for today. That's right, there was only one dessert that would sate Kiba's wolfish hunger. The most passionate dessert that a couple can share. And what's more romantic than sharing some creampie while admiring the New York City skyline as the sun sets over the horizon?

"You ready, princess?" You could hear Kiba shuffle around a bit before being greeted by the familiar feeling of the fur trim of his jacket as it brushes against your ankles.

"Fuck yeah, let's do this," you exclaim as you give him a thumbs-up. You weren't able to see his expression since you were facing away from him, but you can imagine the smug look on his face as he slides his rock hard dick into your warm and inviting pussy.

You were already unbelievably wet from your orgasm, so his cock slides in with relative ease. As soon as his dick enters you, a feeling of exhilaration radiates throughout your entire body. With each thrust it feels as if your souls are resonating with each other. The connection you feel when your bodies are this close together is beyond compare, there's nothing else like it in the world.

A few more gyrations of his hips and you become putty once more in his hands. You can feel your essence being molded by the passionate thumps from his cock. Your vagina quivers with excitement as it welcomes every inch of his member into its drenched oasis. The air around you is filled with the squelching sounds of Kiba's dick as it explores your private grotto with reckless abandon.

Kiba periodically quickens and then slows down his pace in order to keep you on your toes. He knows that the variation will drive you absolutely bonkers, and he wants to hear you beg, plead him for more. He purposely slows down the frequency of his thrusts just so he can hear you say it. C'mon aren't you going to say it?

"Kiba," you whimper while holding onto the wooden crate in front of you, "I need more. Give me more. Faster."

And there it is.

"As you command, princess," he happily obliges. Oh, if only you could see his face right now.

Kiba hastens his pace, thrusting into you with a tremendous amount of force. His dick pounds on the inside of your walls as they sway with delight. It feels so good to have him inside of you, especially without a condom. The unrivalled feeling of his dickhead brush against your delicate walls enthralled you beyond words. The sensation of his penis twitching inside you when he came was the greatest feeling in the world.

Normally you'd have to worry about carrying protection with you at all times, but since you were sterilized earlier this year that was one less thing you'd have to concern yourself with. It also meant you could afford to be more spontaneously promiscuous, which drove Kiba absolutely feral. The first night you had sex after recovering from surgery was one of the most passionate lovemaking sessions the both of you ever had. Kiba could see how comfortable you were in your own body after your hysterectomy, and that turned him into a savage, untamed beast when the two of you were alone.

But here you are now, totally not alone. In the middle of Central Park. Fucking your boyfriend.

What have you become? Where was the demure and studious girl who would rather spend her evenings at home instead of galavanting around with a jock who can't even pronounce the word "etiquette", let alone practice it? Have you no shame? I guess you must have tossed that aside when you first started dating Kiba. He always did have a way of bringing out your undomesticated side, you were a girl who secretly wanted to embrace her inner wildcat and just go berserk from time to time. And what's wilder than exhibitionism?

"Umph," you hear Kiba moan from behind you, "I'm getting close, princess."

This was always your favourite part of having sex with Kiba. The moment where your vagina milks him, absorbing every last drop of his cum. This time you felt a little different than usual, though. How long has it been since you last peed? Hours? You did go at the bagel shop, but that was during the morning.

Oh gosh, you think to yourself, he's totally going to make me squirt today. Fuck, I can't believe this is happening to me.

Kiba continues to thrust into you as you feel the intense pressure of your full bladder compound on top of the heat building up inside of your pelvis. Every time he brushes up inside of you, your muscles begin to clench involuntarily. You inch closer and closer to losing control with every gyration of his hips. He slaps your ass a few times before continuing his thrusting.

Kiba then grabs the back of your ponytail so he can bring your neck a little closer to his mouth. When his canines tickle the hickey on your neck you're no longer able to restrain the torrent of warm urine, letting a golden shower rain down on Kiba's jacket. The sensation of wetting yourself sends you over the edge and your walls begin to instinctively clench up as a surge of ecstacy ripples throughout your entire body.

Kiba then lets out a tremendous groan as his dick twitches inside of you and begins ejaculating sticky cum into your vagina, filling it up to the brim. A bit of his cum oozes out of you, mixing with a few droplets of piss as the medley of immorality slides down your legs, a remnant of your grievous sin.

You can hear Kiba exhale deeply as you slowly turn yourself around.

"Sorry about your jacket, I didn't realize until it was too late that I hadn't peed since the morning and-"

Kiba picks up his soiled jacket from the ground and sniffs it with a satisfied look on his face, "Mmm, smells just like my princess."

He puts a hand on your shoulder as he says, "Don't worry about it. I'll just have to use my dynamic marking on you when we get back to the hotel."

No matter how indecent you thought you were, you could always take solace in the fact that Kiba had you beat. This man was always full of surprises, and you couldn't deny that you loved him, not in spite of his degeneracy, but rather for it.

As you pick up your clothes strewn about the castle's roof Kiba quips at you one last time, "So since you drank the water here does that mean your piss had bugs in it?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Shrimp aren't bugs, they're crustaceans."

You can hear his roaring laughter echoing with that self-assured arrogance that you loved oh so much, even if you'd never admit it. We can't fuel his ego too much now, can we?

----- The End -----

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keiskake · 1 year

Text

hawks x gn!reader

fluff/shortfic

it made you wonder, is loving as good as they say?

and you found him.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #keigo x reader #hawks fluff #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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thatdammchickennugget · 10 days

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Hi, I want to ask you for advice and give you an ask for your 1500 followers celebration.

The thing is, I'm 19 and I am not in uni. I am very disappointed in myself and did not plan to be in the position that I currently am. All my friends further their education and had/are having higher education meanwhile I am still where I was three years ago. I always was the academic driven girl that was an over achiever until my half-second last year of highschool. But at this moment, I just feel so behind and failed.

I am happy and proud of my friends, don't get me wrong, they all deserve it ! I even have some of my friends who did not plan to go to uni and are at the moment there. I am happy that they're all succeeding, but I compare myself and I'm just at the same place, escaping in fanfics and just losing more hope that I used to have. It's like everybody started the race except me, that remained at the begining of it.

I did work a little on some of my issues during highschool and still try to do. I used to be severely bullied in middle school, litteraly had a guy saying that I was a monkey and looking like one, which affected my confidence and made me a little paranoid. I'm still working on my self confidence. But I still can't always be confident in my appearance.

I plan and want to go to uni and study what I want so bad. I wish to re-invent myself in a better version of myself.

Can you give me some life advice? You seem like a kind person with a good heart.

I'm not sure if you are still accepting requests for your 1500 subscribers event, but here is a request, it is completely up to you to do it or not, I wouldn't mind.

I also want to tell you " Congratulations on your 1500 subscribers, you definetely deserve it!!!" I love your fics and your writing so much, you have no idea! I look up to you and you definitely inspire me.

I am not sure how to describe myself.

I have brown hair. I am European, just not from the Anglo-saxon part. Usually, I am the therapist friend, everyone come to me and I give them advice ( that are genuinely good). I am normally an optimistic person, I think it is just at the moment that I am feeling down as if I'm in a hole without having a way out. I love reading, escaping to fictional worlds, dancing alone in my room, listening to classical music, knowing the history of the arts, romantism and watching theatre if it is a good play. I am a Gryffindor and an ambivert.

I wish one day to have adventures (where nobody dies/has a negative life-changing thing) like in the movies.

Could you write a frenemies + when it is know the of us are dating , nobody can believe it with Mattheo Riddle? Or anything really with Remus Lupin, with any trope you consider, I trust you :)

Thank you so much and thank you for your advice

I'm gonna sign this so you could identify me if you want updates or when I will thank you :)

-🐤🪐 chicken saturn ( because I like chickens, baby chickens and I like the stars and various kinds of planets)

Hey love! 💕

Firstly, thank you for reaching out and sharing your feelings with me. It takes courage to express vulnerability, especially when it feels like you're comparing yourself to others. You're not alone in feeling this way, I've been feeling much the same lately and am working through it at my own pace too.

It's important to remember that life isn't a race, and everyone's journey unfolds at its own pace. Your path might not look like your friends', and that's perfectly okay. What matters most is that you're working on yourself and your dreams, even if it feels like progress is slow.

It's understandable to feel disappointed or frustrated with where you are right now, but try not to dwell too much on the past or where you think you "should" be. Focus instead on the steps you can take to move forward. Whether that is exploring educational opportunities, seeking support for your self-confidence and mental health journey, or pursuing your passions, every small effort counts.

Dealing with past experiences like bullying can leave lasting scars, but remember that they don't define you. You're strong and resilient, and you have the power to rewrite your story. Building self-confidence takes time and patience, so be kind to yourself along the way.

As for university and reinventing yourself, it's never too late to chase your dreams. And you are only 19! That is still so young! Don't beat yourself up over it you're still on the right path and you have so much time to get where you want to be! Take the time to research your options, reach out for guidance if needed, and set realistic goals for yourself. Surround yourself with supportive people who believe in your potential, and don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it.

Above all, remember that your worth isn't determined by your achievements or milestones. You are enough just as you are, and your journey is uniquely yours. Keep believing in yourself, keep striving for growth, and trust that brighter days lie ahead.

Sending you lots of positivity and strength on your journey lovely anon 💕 thank you for entrusting me with this, I hope there is at least something helpful in my little rant here. And I also saw your other ask and yes of course you can be 🪐🐤 Saturn Chick! And it's always okay to reach out to me, no matter if you want to do it as an anon ask or through my dm's.

Now for your match ups....

Golden Trio Era; Romantic Match-Up: Mattheo Riddle

mattheo, with his brooding demeanor and sharp intellect, is the last person you expect to find yourself drawn to. as a Gryffindor, you naturally gravitate towards those who exude warmth and light, whereas mattheo seems to dwell in the shadows, his presence casting an enigmatic aura wherever he goes.

your first encounter with him is marked by a clash of personalities, as your optimistic outlook clashes with his cynical worldview. You find yourself engaged in heated debates with him, each argument leaving you more frustrated than the last. despite your differences, there's an undeniable spark of attraction that simmers beneath the surface, one that neither of you can ignore.

as time passes, you and mattheo find yourselves reluctantly working together on various projects and assignments. despite your initial animosity towards each other, you begin to discover unexpected common ground, whether it's your shared love for literature or your fascination with history and the arts.

slowly but surely, the animosity between you begins to thaw, giving way to a grudging respect and mutual understanding. mattheo's sharp wit and intellectual curiosity challenge you in ways you never thought possible, while your unwavering optimism and genuine kindness bring a sense of warmth and light into his dark world.

when you finally admit your feelings for each other, it comes as a shock to your friends and classmates. after all, you and Mattheo were once sworn enemies, constantly at odds with each other. but as they watch the two of you navigate the complexities of your budding relationship, they begin to see the genuine connection and affection that exists between you, and they can't help but root for your unlikely love story.

Song: Just Like A Movie by Wallows

Marauders Era; Romantic Match-Up: Remus Lupin

remus, with his quiet demeanor and gentle nature, has always been a source of comfort and stability for you. as the therapist friend, you're used to being the one everyone turns to for advice and support, but with remus, it's different. there's a sense of understanding and empathy that flows between you, a connection that goes beyond mere friendship.

your first meeting with remus is marked by a shared love for literature and the arts. you find yourself drawn to his intelligence and sensitivity, admiring the way he seems to see the world through a different lens. despite his reserved nature, there's a warmth and kindness to him that immediately puts you at ease.

over time, you and remus become inseparable, spending countless hours lost in conversation about everything from books to music to the intricacies of the human mind. He becomes your confidant, the one person you can truly be yourself around, without fear of judgment or rejection.

as your feelings for Remus deepen, you find yourself torn between wanting to preserve the sanctity of your friendship and longing for something more. it's only when he confesses his own feelings for you that you realize the depth of your affection for him, and the two of you embark on a journey of love and discovery together.

your relationship with remus is built on a foundation of trust, understanding, and mutual respect. together, you navigate the challenges of life at hogwarts, leaning on each other for support and strength. and as you face the uncertainties of the future, you take solace in the knowledge that as long as you have each other, you can weather any storm.

Song: Geronimo by Sheppard

#advice #nuggets 1500 follower celebration #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader

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thelaurenshippen · 1 year

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I absolutely love TBS, and I got my uncle to listen to it : from all the podcasts I rec'ed to him, this is the one he prefers! I really appreciate how complex (yet coherent) all of your characters are, and how real their relationships seem. The way you write flaws is really inspiring and incredibly comforting as well. Do you maybe have any advice on how to write believable romantic relationships? I've never had one and thus struggle to write it, especially the process of starting to build one.

ahhh thank you SO much! and omg, I'm so glad your uncle likes it!! uncle approval!!

I also really appreciate the kind words about character flaws - I love writing complex and imperfect characters, so its always nice to know when they resonate!

in terms of romantic relationships....that's SUCH an interesting question. and I absolutely do not think that having a romantic relationship in your real life is a precursor to writing compelling romantic relationships. when I wrote TBS, I'd only had one serious romantic relationship and used exactly....zero of it for inspiration. I'm in a serious partnership now (only my second serious relationship) and I don't think I ever really directly draw on it - it's a relationship that's taught me a lot about myself and helped me grow (as great friendships do too), which of course makes me a better writer (and I hope a better human too), but when I'm writing romance, I feel like I'm building it from an entirely different set of blocks, if that makes sense.

I think a big part of it is that I love romance. I love love love it. and there's so much I love in romance stories that I would never ever want in my real life! which I think gives me the flexibility of (hopefully) being able to write different types of relationships.

okay, so, then, where do I turn for inspiration if not in my real life? well, a few things:

read romance! a few favorites from the last few years - anything by Alexis Hall (Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake and Boyfriend Material are two faves and I'm reading and loving A Lady for a Duke right now), The Charm Offensive, The Ex Talk, One Last Stop, Spoiler Alert

read Romancing the Beat by Gwen Hayes! it's a book all about how to structure romance novels, but I think all the principles apply to all mediums

watch and rewatch your favorite romances in tv/film and take notes on what works for you and what doesn't. I can't tell you the number of times I've watched the 2005 P&P. I've thought seriously about why Rachel/Joey works for me in Friends more than Rachel/Ross. I've watched how they pull off the will-they-won't-they in New Girl and Chuck a million times (both are a masterclass in timing - they get the two people together within the first two seasons (VITAL!!! you can't take too long!) and then maintain tension and conflict while giving you reasons to always keep rooting for them). Hannibal is one of my favorite tv shows of all time specifically for the way it unfolds its central romance - how do you make a story a love story when it is primarily about murder and losing your mind? what does that love story look like when consummated? (bloody, the answer is bloody)

and then I love reading fanfic of these love stories! what does Jonah/Amy from Superstore look like if they get together earlier and other parts of life don't get in the way? what happens if you pair a character with their canon partner versus a non-canon partner? a big thing I've been doing recently is diving into the tag for popular ships on tumblr that I don't personally ship. there's lots of ships in things I watch where I'm like "I get it, but I don't feel it" and I think it's so valuable to read a few beloved fics to try and understand it. even if that understanding is "nope! still don't like it!" that's so valuable too!

which brings me to - keeping notes. I have a running list of themes/tropes/archetypes/romance arcs that I like and dislike (sometimes this is a real list, sometimes its mental). it's just as important to know what you don't like as it is what you do. especially since, if you come across a trope you don't like in something but it doesn't bother you as much in a particular ship, you can learn so much from how that person wrote that trope in a way that didn't bug you! for instance, both cheating and accidental pregnancy are two big turn-offs for me in terms of ships, but, like, Sense8 with Kala/Wolfgang/Rajan tracked over some cheating elements but did it SO elegantly (and then solved the problem of love triangles the way I wish ALL love triangles were solved lol).

let all this stuff stew and marinate and when it comes to building a romance, start with the things you know you like! for instance, with Caleb/Adam and Max/Ross (The Bright Sessions and Maxine Miles respectively) I knew I wanted to start with a kind of enemies-to-lovers, because that usually compels me more than childhood-friends-to-lovers. BUT because they're teenagers and teenagers can be very cruel, I wanted to make sure never to veer into the bully/bullied getting together trope, because that's veryyyyy hard to do well imo. so Caleb and Adam were more slightly estranged/not friendly rather than enemies and Max and Ross had the history of being friends and then just growing up and starting to annoy each other bc deep down they wanted to kiss. that's another thing I love - mutual pining. and with that, it can't just be that each character is pining equally and equally aware of it - Adam knew he was pining for Caleb but Caleb had no idea until all of a sudden he did, and then his ability created a nice complicating factor for the pining. for Max and Ross, it's the same thing - Ross knows he's pining and Max is pining but oblivious about it (for now). for mutual pining in general, there has to be a reason why they can't just get their acts together, and one of them being an idiot is usually a good one lol. or, I'm writing a cowboy romance right now, and both men know they're pining but there's so much baggage in their past (enemies to friends to pining to enemies to reluctant partners to lovers) that they're shoving it down

practice on fanfic! I did this so much last year, and worked out a lot of different strategies - fanfic bingos are great for practice because they can force you to try out tropes you wouldn't ordinarily

okay, gosh, this got so long and I'm not sure it was helpful at all, and also I'm pretty sure I'm several years late on answering this ask, so I hope this is at least somewhat interesting! thank you for the question!

#writing #answered #romance

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danpuff-ao3 · 1 year

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Magnificent Maddy, beautiful @thebooktopus, sweet special someone...here's to you!

Maddy started this excellent month last year, so it seems only right I start with her this year! All the effort and LOVE Maddy put into her posts last year? Incredible. I checked every day, so excited to see who she would talk about. I ended up following several new people last year thanks to her, and checking out many new stories (even for ships and tropes I don't normally read!) And I walked away with many new friends!

Following March last year, I was deep in Snarry-a-Thon hell, having actual meltdowns trying to write Contempt. Listen, I'm a mess on a good day, especially when writing, but never more so than writing Contempt! And when I was sobbing and second-guessing myself, Maddy was one of the lovely humans who offered to look at my draft for me and who encouraged me to keep going. Truly, I have no idea what I would have done without her and others' help! My poor precious fic would have ended up in the trash, if not my whole laptop on fire! Her time and care meant so much to me then and is still so special to me now, knowing how important her help was in finishing a work I love so much.

There is such goodness in Maddy's heart, and her generosity and kindness are so inspiring and incredible. She has been an absolute sweetheart! Of course, Maddy is more than just the love she gives. She is a creator in her own right! So many goodies she's made, a variety of ships and stories! I've specially selected FIVE to recommend to you! And if you can, please be sure to leave Maddy some love!

Galaxies in Their Eyes

Ginny/Luna. Rated: T. Words: 350. Trans Luna. Self-acceptance. Love. Affection.

This moment exists for Luna and Ginny together, here and now, and across all of the galaxies.

I Fell Heavy Into Your Arms

James Sirius/Teddy. Rated: E. Words: 15,638. Secret relationship. Falling in love. Minor Scorbus. Fluff & smut. Next Gen Fest 2022.

James has moved home, and he's all grown up. Teddy takes notice.

Or: how James and Teddy tried to keep their hands off each other in the lead-up to Albus and Scorpius' wedding and didn't exactly succeed.

I Wanna Be On You

Draco/Harry. Rated: E. Words: 6,565. Roommates. Friends to lovers. Fluff & smut. H/D Wireless 2022.

What is it about Draco singing off-key in their kitchen that pushes Harry to admit his feelings? One thoughtful act between roommates that leads to so much more.

Life After Quidditch

Marcus/Oliver. Rated: E. Words: 11,000. Enemies to lovers. Injuries. Minor Drarry. Minor Ginsy. Charity auctions. Fluff and smut. Wood You Rather 2022.

After a career-ending injury, Oliver Wood is forced to take an early retirement. And what does early retirement look like for famous Quidditch players? The charity circuit. Galas, bake sales, auctions—you name it, Oliver’s agent had signed him up for it.

Oliver didn’t know what to expect from this new life, but it certainly wasn’t Marcus Flint popping up at every turn. Or for him to be friendly and welcoming, unwilling to let Oliver stew in his self-loathing. Or for him to look so good in yoga pants. Or to fall for the git.

Space Girl

Ginny/Luna. Rated: M. Words: 350. Love-letters. Kinkuary 2022. Face-sitting.

You, my love, my moon. I worry sometimes that you are just an interloper here, destined again someday for the stars. People comment that your head is in the clouds, but I know the truth: it’s the whole of you up there, floating around, unbothered and ungoverned by the laws of this world.

Oh, also, can't forget last year's Mutuals March Masterlist!

for an explanation about Mutuals March, or to figure out why i wrote you a thing, please check out this post.

#mutuals march #maddy #booktopus #drarry #linny #flintwood #jeddy #fic recs

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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Couple of random questions for ya:

Coffee or tea?

Favorite color?

Things you do for inspiration/motivation to write?

If you had to choose only one person from CoD, who would you choose?

Last song you listened to?

Thanks for the ask!!

It depends but I've been leaning more towards tea recently. Coffee makes my tummy upsetty.

Purple. Always has been, always will. Black is a close second. (I know it's not technically a color but my closet says otherwise.)

Kind of depends on what I'm writing. Reading fics or watching/playing whatever it's based off of is a great way to get me going. Sometimes listening to music, but I'm surprisingly not inspired by music a ton in my writing (I also listen to a lot of instrumental/non-english songs so...I also tend to just vibe with the beat instead of listening to lyrics 😂)

This is an evil question. I cannot choose just one!! I always think I can but then I get sad thinking about the others.

The last song I listened to was Viper by Derivakat.

#thank you for keeping me busy #there is a line out the door so i'll be here a while for something that probably will take like five minutes #answered

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a-girl-must-have-a-new-name · 2 years

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All of the times Naruto knew she danced and the one time he didn't.

part two.

The second time Naruto noticed Hinata dancing it was purely by accident. Well, that and Kiba. Naruto had been having a pretty average night. Ichiraku's and just walking around the village waving and smiling at the occasional passerby. That all ended when Naruto was practically clotheslined by Kiba who in his excitement hardly stopped as he raced towards the poor blonde, with Akumaru and Lee right at his heels.

“Kiba what the hell?!”

“Naruto, you're just the man we’ve been looking for! Come on we’ve got a mission!” Kiba yelled sounding half drunk as he and Lee both slung an arm around him forcing him to walk with them.

“What really? Kakashi- Sensei sent you to get me?” Naruto asked skeptically. after all, he'd just seen the man walking out of a bookstore not thirty minutes earlier.

“Not a real mission idiot! I mean we need to gather all the guy's stat! The girls have decided to go out for a night of drinking and partying and didn’t invite us!”

“They are celebrating their youthfulness in such an admirable way we too must accept the challenge and join in! Lee added his eyes sparkling in admiration.

“Hm… Now that you mention it, I was surprised when Sakura turned down hanging out tonight- she did say she was busy.”

“Yeah busy having fun without us! And what’s worse they dragged poor Hinata-chan out with them.” Kiba lamented as he grabbed fistfuls of Naruto’s jacket shaking him in a dramatic fashion. Naruto pushed him off, dusting his jacket down and making sure no one had seen Kiba’s antics. But finally agreed to go along with him and Lee. It had been weeks since the last time any of the rookie nine had spent time together and the desire to be around friends was palpable.

Setting off they gathered the rest of the boys. Shino and Shikamaru could be heard muttering about unfortunate luck, but Naruto could tell they were secretly glad to be out. Choji and Sai were also more than happy to be invited Choji joined in on Kiba and Lee’s rabblerousing and Sai just smiled. Happy to be invited.

"How did you even find out that the girls were going out?" Naruto asked as they made their way to a rowdy bar.

“What kind of ninja would I be if I couldn’t figure out -

“He forced Hinata-chan to tell him, she was very reluctant, why? Because the girls wanted to keep it a secret.

"Aw Shino, why do you have to be so mean? You're my teammate you should have my back. " Kiba whined as the rest of the boys laughed. pulling back the flaps to enter the rowdy club.

“Hey, I know this song!” Kiba suddenly shouted as they made their way towards the bar. Turning his head towards the stage to get a look at the band.

“You do?” Naruto was surprised at Kiba’s admission. While they sounded fine so far, it was hard to imagine Kiba enjoying this type of music, with their very distinct sound. Naruto was also sure he’d never heard of the band's name before, as he read the sign hanging on the bar wall he doubted Kiba knew of them due to popularity.

“Yeah, Hinata loves this band!” Kiba sighed realizing now why the girls chose this bar for the night.

“What? no way!” A chorus of disbelief was shouted out by the rest of the group.

“I’m telling the truth I’ve heard this damn song more times than I could ever want to.”

“This doesn’t sound like anything Hinata-chan would listen to,” Choji muttered as he stroked his chin in thought.

“Ah, Hinata-chan truly is the pinnacle of youth!” Lee nodded sagely as he turned his attention towards the music hoping to gain Hinata’s understanding.

“No way! You’re out of your mind Hinata would never listen to a band like this.” Naruto exclaimed trying hard to imagine Hinata listening to loud blaring music.

“It’s true, why? Because she is up near the front of the stage dancing right now.” Shino answered quietly as he pointed to the massive crowd that had formed. Naruto whipped his head around scanning the crowd and sure enough, there in the front row stood Hinata. He could only watch mesmerized, as Hinata bounced from side to side as she reached her arms out above her head.

Her face was flushed whether from the exertion, the alcohol, or both he couldn’t tell but it left her looking like she was glowing. Her hair was plastered around her face and moving wildly behind her back, accidentally hitting Tenten in the face on occasion. But Tenten unbothered merely laughed, reaching over to grab Hinata’s hand spinning her around and around as Ino cheered them on. Sakura was also moving in sync with the music but had turned towards the bar spotting the boys as she began to make her way through the crowd.

“What are you guys doing here?” Sakura yelled over the noise as she neared.

“Guys night. What about you?” Kiba offered as nonchalantly as possible. Causing the other guys in the group to groan. Kiba for all his merits was a terrible actor especially when already drunk. Sakura eyed him suspiciously no doubt knowing he was the culprit of the sudden appearance of the group but chose instead to ignore it.

“Hinata had mentioned coming to listen so we all decided to come.”

“Hinata chose to come here?” Naruto asked in disbelief as he turned back to watch the petite woman mouthing along to the lyrics. It suddenly occurred to him that he’d never heard Hinata sing before and felt a desperate need to do so now. He felt his body moving on its own before he was stopped rather forcibly by Sakura.

“Oh no you don’t! You’re not gonna ruin this night now.”

“What do you mean ruin? I just wanna go say hi to Hinata-chan!” Naruto yelled back defensively but Sakura held her ground, poking Naruto in the chest to make a point as she hollered over the music

“Say hi to her tomorrow! Tonight is girl’s night!”

“No fair! Naruto complained as Sakura merely grinned, ordered a set of drinks for the girls, and went back down to the stage area. The rest of the guys shrugged it off, not minding having their own night. But Naruto couldn’t help but find his eyes searching for Hinata all night. This dancing was much different from the one she’d shown him only a few months before and he wondered just where she learned it from.

He realized rather suddenly that he wasn’t the only one who was keeping an eye on her. Noticing creep after creep staring and pointing at the Hyuga he felt a growing annoyance as he watched grown men try to slip behind Hinata and dance with her. Using his shadow clones he ignored the smirks and snickers as he sent his clones to quietly and sneakily get rid of the unwanted add-ons. One of his clones had caught Sakura’s eye but she merely rolled her own at her best friend’s antics before turning back around and enjoying the show.

Hinata never seemed to notice the helping hand, instead of focusing on the band before her. Unfortunately, for Naruto, it seemed that the band’s lead singer had also had his focus solely on Hinata. Because suddenly he was leaning forward on the stage stretching his hand out to Hinata motioning for her to get onto the stage. Hinata gasped and shook her head not expecting to be singled out. However, Ino being the conspirator that she was shoved Hinata forward causing the girl to grab onto the extended hand for support or risk falling. With an easy tug, he had Hinata jumping onto the stage with him. The crowd went wild and Hinata’s cheeks, already flushed from dancing and drinks, turned even redder.

Naruto was about to rescue her when the singer leaned away from the mic whispering in her ear. Naruto felt heat rising from his chest as his eyes narrowed trying to make out what exactly the guy was saying. Whatever it was, he was disappointed to see that it worked because suddenly Hinata was closing her eyes and letting the melody of the song take control.

Her body easily found the rhythm once more and she was off. Dancing all over the stage she even used some of her ninja training to flip and spin in the air from time to time. Naruto could only look on in pure amazement as she moved her hips in ways he’d never seen before. He also could only look on helplessly as his friend moved closer and closer to the lead singer. Moving in sync with the man and even letting him pull her close to him moving their hips together. Naruto wanted to strangle somebody and wondered if for a moment Neji’s ghost had possessed him to save his poor cousin from that man’s evil clutches. Wanting to honor Neji’s memory he went to take a step forward but was once again thwarted. Cursing he spun around glaring accusingly at Shikumaru who simply shrugged not releasing his shadow possession jutsu as he took a slow sip of the alcohol in his hands. Luckily the song was winding down and apparently so was the set. He watched as Hinata shook every band member's hand before jumping down off the stage to get back to her friends. Sakura herded them towards the booth that the boys had been occupying and a chorus of relief at having a space to sit and catch their breath was sung out.

“Hinata-chan you were amazing, such youthfulness is awe-inspiring!” Lee yelled overheads to a beaming Hinata.

“That was impressive Hinata!” Choji nodded along as he handed the girl a bottle of water, which she gladly took. Hinata was as red as a cherry as she continuously bowed her head in embarrassment and thanks. Naruto watched as Kiba and Shino grabbed hold of her and squeezed her, proudly telling her how awesome she was and how proud they were of her. Hinata hugged them back tightly, thanking them with a giddy laugh in her voice. Sai merely smiled at Hinata before turning to ask Ino why she didn’t dance like that earning an elbow to the stomach. Shikamaru shook his head, a grin spreading at the antics happening around him as he fished for a cigarette out of his carton.

Naruto was about to offer his own support and amazement when suddenly Hinata was being pulled away from him. Annoyed, Naruto turned to whine about the unfair treatment when he stopped. It was the singer from the band standing there with his arm wrapped casually around Hinata's shoulders. He was trying to pull Hinata away from the group as he whispered in her ear. Naruto felt his eyes narrow and his jaw clenching as he watched as Ino was motioning wildly behind the guy giving Hinata a big thumbs up, mouthing out the words “he’s hot” towards Hinata.

Hinata looked mortified but nodded her head slowly. Naruto couldn’t tell if the nod was towards whatever the creep was saying or if it was in agreement with Ino’s declaration and Naruto couldn’t tell which option he hated more. Still, he sat glaring over the rest of the girls' heads at the man who seemed not to care he had interrupted something. Silently listening to the conversation.

“If you’d like to spend the rest of the evening with us, my band and I are going to go bar hopping.”

“Thank you for your offer, but I think I’ll stay and listen to the rest of the bands with my friends.” Naruto’s ears perked up at Hinata's voice. Not fighting the unabashed grin spreading across his face Naruto chuckled at the startled look on the singer’s face at being turned down. A look of annoyance briefly flashed in the man’s eyes but before he could lash out Hinata continued.

“It was amazing getting to dance on stage with you. I can see why you love to perform the way you do. I thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me, I will always treasure this experience.” Hinata smiled brightly at the man before shocking everyone and leaning forward to kiss the guy on the cheek.

Naruto felt his smile once again drop as he stared incredulously at the scene before him. The girls giggled and whistled towards the two causing Hinata to twirl around and give the feeblest of glares. The boys all smirked casting sly glances toward the blonde who seemed to be only focused on the couple in front of him.

The singer blinked once, then twice, before smiling lazily and shrugging. Stepping back away from the group as he called back over his shoulder towards Hinata. “Trust me the pleasure was all mine. If you change your mind, we’ll be in the village all week.”

Naruto watched until the man was completely out of the bar before he turned to look back at Hinata, who was still smiling at the events that had just occurred. Naruto thought about what to say. Telling her she looked great out there seemed obvious. Everyone else had already got to compliment her and he worried he might just sound like he was parroting off of them.

Besides, hadn’t he told her how great she danced recently? What if it sounded to Hinata- chan that he was in disbelief? He didn’t want to insult her. But he didn’t want to not say anything! He found himself wanting to talk, a lot. His tongue was practically pressing against his teeth desperate to speak. Before he could think of what he was saying he leaned in close to Hinata speaking loudly to be heard over the next set that had started playing.

“So I guess you really like that band?” Lame. Naruto wanted to slap himself. Cringing at his own stupidity, how lame and boring could you get? He was hoping Hinata would just nod and ignore his dumb question, focus on all of the other attention she was receiving so he could just sulk back into the booth. But of course, Hinata would never ignore somebody. She was too nice to do that. She blinked once as she processed the words no doubt still feeling the effects of alcohol, then nodded her head vigorously.

“Yes, I actually found out about them on a mission, a girl we were escorting kept talking about the band. As soon as we completed the mission I went to the local music shop and found their cd. I must have listened to it for a month straight! poor Neji-nii was ready to break it I think!” Hinata giggled as she thought back to Neji’s ire at having to hear the cd replaying for the third time during a training session. The fondness in her voice soothed Naruto’s growing discomfort and he found himself laughing at the thought of Neji having to meditate and focus while pop-punk was blasting out into the courtyard.

Naruto and Hinata moved closer to each other to speak and suddenly all the worry Naruto had felt vanished. They laughed and shared thoughts on music while both promising to listen to each other's favorite songs. As they talked neither noticed the rest of the group leaving quietly, giving them privacy and time alone as they all made their way to another bar wanting to give their two friends a moment but not quite ready to end the evening themselves. It wasn’t until the new set had ended that Naruto and Hinata even realized they were alone.

“Oh no, I hope they aren’t mad at us,” Hinata whispered feeling like she had betrayed girls' night. Naruto was rather grateful for the departure but still, he felt it was only fair to offer Hinata a solution. Quickly using sage mode he found the group.

“They went to the next bar over, I can walk you over there if you want. I think that guy from the band you like is there too if you wanted to take him up on his offer to hang out. But if you don’t we can stay here, or I can walk you home if you are ready to go.

Hinata pondered on his offer for a minute and Naruto felt his heart sink at the thought of her wanting to go find that guy again. However, Hinata slowly shook her head.

“No, I'll just apologize to the girls tomorrow. As much fun as it was dancing on stage, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. I’m happy to be a fan from afar.” Naruto looked back up at the girl sitting beside him. shock and relief filled him at the knowledge she didn’t want to go see the singer again.

“Well do you want me to walk you home then?” Naruto asked standing up from the booth to allow her to slide out as well. Hinata did so but stopped and cocked her head to the side for a moment, before turning back to Naruto with a small mischievous smile on her face.

“Naruto-kun, if it’s all right with you, I’m not ready to leave yet. You see there’s another band that’s playing tonight that I like as well. Would you like to stay and listen with me?”

Naruto watched as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and brought her hands clasped closely towards her face in a silly plea. cute! Naruto thought as turned his face to the side to hide the blush that formed as he agreed to her request.

Cheering and feeling emboldened by the events of the night Hinata grasped Naruto’s hand, practically pulling the man towards the dance floor. Naruto didn’t even bother to pretend to fight it, eagerly following Hinata. He couldn’t help but think how nice and warm her hand felt and silently hoped his hand felt that way as well.

Hinata was once again down in front of the stage dancing. But this time the actual Naruto was dancing right along beside her, and he had no intention of letting anyone else steal her away for the night.

#naruto x hinata #naruhina #naruhina fanfiction #naruhinafanfic #hinata hyuga #naruto x hinata fanfic #naruto x hinata fanfiction #I've tried to write this for months finally got motivated and just did what i could #hopefully it goes well

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