#kid friendly werewolf

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

OH! You know who I forgot and who nobody has mentioned and I just thought about???

Willa and Aspen! From Z.O.M.B.I.E.S. 3!!! Willa is a werewolf and A-Spen is a nonbinary alien!

#Black x Asian #Willa x A-Spen #Willa Lykensen #chandler kinney #bw x nonbinary Asian #monster girls #kid friendly werewolf #werewolves #kids movies #disney zombies #add it to the list #notes for housekeeping #they gotta be on this blog somewhere

[comixandco]

waiiiiit, now you made me think about other thing.... so, let's assume mermaids can get pregnant in human way right, but their child then has to be a merperson, because how would then a mermaid transform, if she turns into literal water... i can already imagine a pregnant mermaid and a baby with a littleee tail inside her LMAOOO.

no, actually, when mermaid transforms, the baby teleports to the backrooms /j

this goes sooo deep i just sought out a couple episodes of mako mermaids bc i remembered the guy was adopted and like. babies have to be brought up in that discussion right? And in the episode the teacher mermaid says “your mother was the only mermaid strong enough to stop you from getting your tail” which implies that????? they’re born without tails????????? How long are they babies with legs do the mermaids give birth on land and then return to the sea and their babies get tails then? do their tails slowly form as they grow older? if they have to become human to give birth why is it so unheard of for the mako mermaid girls to go on land for their mission? have they never seen any merbabies? there are canonically mermaids younger than them! And why does the h2o wiki refer to one of the characters as coming from a long line of mermen are mermaids not involved in the process do mermen get pregnant like seahorses????? why did they have to make mako mermaids and make everything so confusing?????? *cries*

putting mako mermaids aside because that’s a hot Mess. Would the baby also turn into water? it wasn’t in the moon pool but it’s parent was and the moon pool changes a person’s entire dna so like. it would change the eggs dna as well right? but the egg is only half of the dna and there would also be a human half that shouldn’t respond to water at all. does the mer dna overpower the human dna? would onlookers see a random tiny foetus floating in the air/water for a split second before the mermaid reappears around it?

yeah the baby goes wherever cleo’s coat went in the second episode

#dericelem #mako mermaids #h2o just add water #like. i get why the mermaids clothes change to their matching bra technically like if their trousers are going missing their tops should to #and it is not kid-show friendly for the mermaids clothes to rip werewolf-style every time they transform #but cleo’s coat was barely on her when she was in miriam’s pool it was floating up so much. lewis saw it disappear and he won’t tell me #where it went because he is a fictional character for a series that is almost 2 decades old and he had more pressing questions than ‘where #did the coat go?????’ in that moment and we understand that but it’s still upsetting #sorry the coat is another thing entirely #i think the lore-writing for this series was ‘if it’s cool and makes for a good episode we’ll incorporate it. if it’s a question #we can’t immediately answer or argue about and it doesn’t have to come up in the show we just wave our hand and say the moon did it’ #and that is a valid way to move forward. they didn’t realise at the time how big h2o would be or that people would still be trying #to figure out the parameters of the world they made almost two decades ago lmfao #the babies have to survive though right???? like. we can’t emma’s horrible red hair away a baby #it would be absolutely fucked up though if the baby disappeared every time they got wet and then the pregnancy reappeared once they dried #off #’cleo you can’t transform this late into the pregnancy we don’t know what will happen!’ ‘but my back hurts!’ #fun fact h2o takes place in the same universe as shape of water and this is how the fishman thing was made /j

[tired-biscuit]

okay but imagine werewolf best friend kiba who has wanted and loved you for years. who has pined and craved and fucked a pair of your underwear and chased off so many 'rivals' behind your back.

imagine going away for college and reconnecting. maybe you go camping. maybe you trigger his rut earlier because he's wanted you for so fucking long that it can't be contained. him at the entrance, unzipping it, crawling over you, waking you up with his head between your legs and begging for you to 'help him out'. for 'just the tip'

but it ends up with him knotting and breeding you and you wake up with his mark on your shoulder and he's already pawing at you again

Finding peace in the spontaneous wild (that is you)

18+ MDNI, fem!reader/werewolf!bsf!kiba

premise: when an accidental encounter with your former childhood best friend leads you to agree to a one-night camping trip consisting of just you two, you discover that there’s more to your friendship than initially meets the eye.

cw: monsterfucking (he's mostly in his human form, though), knotting, creampie, implied breeding, mounting, size difference, omegaverse themes.

college/modern AU. friends to lovers, one bed trope (kind of, they’re sharing sleeping bags in the same tent), unestablished mating bond, mutual pining, lots of bickering and misunderstandings; they get into one big fight (kiba and reader are polar opposites personality-wise and tend to agree to disagree), usage of sweetheart and bunny as pet names for reader. i think that's everything?

wc: 26.2k

find part two here!

———

You run into Kiba at the grocery store, around two weeks after returning home from college.

It’s completely coincidental; neither of you expects it to happen. You catch him standing next to the fruit section, picking the best-looking oranges out of the bunch with slightly pinched eyebrows and narrowed eyes, and before you can even ready yourself to approach him, he already beats you to it.

He blinds you with his grin despite the distance between you as you raise your hand to wave him over. A single dimple that you were already expecting appears in his right cheek. His smile is toothy and friendly; nostalgic. It throws you back to a much simpler time.

After all, you’ve known each other for years — you and Kiba go way back. Back to when your only concern had been what cartoons to watch, and the urgency to come back home well before it got dark outside was a rule set in stone. 

Back then, the world seemed to be splashed with brighter, more vibrant colours than it is now. A sugar rush was the best thing to ever happen to you before you came crashing down twice as hard, and your mother had called you downstairs for breakfast every single morning before ruffling your hair and rushing off to work. 

Now, you’re happy if you get the chance to FaceTime with her once or twice a week while you’re away at college. Your hair certainly doesn’t get ruffled anymore and you make breakfast yourself.

Even the trees in your neighborhood have changed, no longer appearing as tall as they used to be because, well, back then you were the smaller one. The sidewalk on your street was sizzling hot with summer heat, but now it's getting worse each year, and your feet aren’t bare anymore as you walk on it; no longer trekking the familiar route that would lead you to the house of the very boy, who now stands before you in the middle of the grocery store instead of leaning against the open doorway of his childhood home, impatiently waiting to pull you inside.

You used to spend nearly every single day with him. Going on adventures with your bikes — you with your helmet on, him without — until your legs were aching from pedaling so much had become a daily thing of sorts. Constantly coming up with new ways to entertain your never-satisfied, highly imaginative kid brains was a favoured pastime. Wearing scrapes of all shapes and sizes on your knees and palms like they were badges of honor was a thing to be expected. 

But that’s all gone now.

Because now, you’re both adults. Juggling jobs and degrees — well, at least one of you is, not that you’re surprised in any way that Kiba hasn’t chosen to try his hand at college — and all that other crap that consists of time-consuming responsibilities that can be quite pesky and bothersome, but make your lives easier to live nonetheless. 

It feels like an aeon has passed as a result. Like your childhood had been whisked away from you by neither of you ever realizing it until it was far too late. So, you’ve drifted apart. It tends to happen. 

Come to think of it, when was the last time you’d seen your trusted partner in crime? Three years ago? Or has it been four already? You’re unsure.

All you know is that it’s been long. Too long. College feels like it’s been nothing but a rather confusing blur, to say the least.

But so does Kiba.

And so do you.

You’ve both become utterly indecipherable in each other’s eyes. Like foggy glass on a rainy morning.

So you use a couple of moments to merely look at each other because of it; to wipe the condensation off the glass with the sleeves of your phantom sweaters. Him, with those goddamn oranges that he’s still holding in his too-big hands, and you, with your shopping cart that you forgot back at the end of aisle 7 twice already. 

You stare and stare and stare, all until your burning curiosity finally gets the best of you, and you can’t help but invite him to approach you with a not at all subtle aim to appease it. 

Kiba visibly perks up when you wave him over. He shoves the oranges into a reusable bag that his mom had always nagged him about using, and walks over with that confident stride you’d always envied him for having. 

And then all of a sudden he’s right there, in the flesh. Looking the same as he’d always looked, but also not at all.

It’s weird. His smile is the same but the face that surrounds it has changed. Finding yourself in his presence again after a period that you’d describe nothing short of a small eternity, you realize that even if the grin of your childhood best friend is an exact replica of his old one, everything else has either faded away or been replaced by something new.

And new means foreign.

Because as you tip your head slightly upwards to initiate proper eye contact this time, you realize that Kiba has gotten taller. Way taller. Even with his posture relaxed, he towers above you with no effort; something he didn’t get to do back when you’d been nothing but a pair of runts, practically conjoined at the hip.

And that’s not all there is to it. Besides his impressive height, Kiba has also become broader in the shoulders and longer in the legs since you’ve last seen him. He has a sleeve of insanely intricate tattoos covering nearly the entirety of his left arm; it reaches up to the short sleeve of his light-grey tee and probably up to his shoulder. He’s also lost most of his baby fat, and thus now owns a face more defined than you ever recall it being. 

His mop of hair is mostly hidden by the faded baseball cap that he must have put on to fight the summer heat that’s raging outside, however there are still a couple of rogue curls peeking out at the sides and at the nape of his neck. The brim has softened from how old the cap is, not as bent downwards at the corners as it surely used to be ages ago, but at least it still gets the job done. 

He’s always had a habit of being lazy whenever it came to getting haircuts. It seems like some things did manage to stay the same, after all.

You investigate further. As far as differences go, the edge of Kiba’s jawline is sharp instead of round, and his cheeks look smooth to the touch. He’s clean-shaven; the embarrassing peach fuzz days, which you used to tease him about for months on end, have ended. 

He’s a grown man. A pretty darn healthy, vigorous one, it seems.

And speaking of being healthy, you remember a time when he wasn’t.

———

You’re fourteen again and find yourself back in a rather familiar bedroom.

The air inside the room smells warm, like wood and your second home. The sounds of the house are just the way you remember them being. 

There’s someone talking downstairs. Furniture cracks and snaps as it settles in even if it’s old and has had more than enough time to do so already. Dog claws ceaselessly click against the floor. The TV is on. You can hear the weather forecast for tomorrow if you strain your ears hard enough. 

And then there’s the shallow breathing.

Oh, yeah. Right. 

Kiba’s sick. 

Your smile wavers as you keep sitting on the edge of the bed, his bed, that you’d fallen asleep in a rather embarrassing amount of times back when your legs were shorter and it hadn’t been considered awkward or improper just because your best friend belongs to the opposite sex.

The sheets are a tacky design of light blue and white and the mattress is old, but sturdy enough to not cause any worry of having to buy a new one just yet. It supports both his and your own weight fairly well, however it won’t be able to do so for much longer, you think.

You turn your head towards the window. It’s fall and it’s raining outside — the heavy raindrops rattle against the glass every so often whenever the wind catches them, making you stare out at the foggy grayness that sluggishly spirals on the other side.

You’ve left your boots downstairs. In the hallway, where Tsume, Kiba’s mother, had greeted you and ushered you inside the moment you’d come knocking on her front door, looking soaking wet to the bone. Besides your boots, your bright yellow raincoat resides there as well, probably dripping from the hanger onto the floor, making a puddle you’ll have to feverishly apologize for later.

With your train of thought coming to a halt, you eventually grow tired of watching the nearby woods that reside next to the Inuzuka household. So you shift your gaze again. 

This time, you focus on the room itself. There are posters taped to the walls, the majority of them depicting movies and rock bands that you’ve never really fancied yourself all that much. The desk is littered with clutter, most of it school-related but you’re able to spot a couple of comics in there as well. The alarm clock on the nightstand is digital; it shows the time. 

3:27 PM.

It’s a Thursday afternoon, but it’s also the fourth day that Kiba hasn’t come to school. The seat in the classroom that he usually sits in remains empty — you know that because you keep it reserved for him by placing your backpack on it each morning. He’s been absent ever since the pain in his limbs and the unyielding fever had become too much for even him to handle; the boy who just loves to brag about never getting sick. 

All right, you’ve got to cut him some slack because in some way, he isn’t even actually sick? His growth spurt — and his entire puberty experience overall, if you could even call it that — is the thing that has taken such a toll on him, not actual illness.

And in some way, it has taken a toll on you, too. Seeing him ache hurts you just the same, even if your bones aren’t the ones that are currently growing much too fast, much too soon.

So here you are, bringing him copies of the notes that you’ve been religiously taking in class for the fourth day in a row. Keeping him company. Wiping the sweat off his forehead with a rag soaked in water, like a good best friend. Over and over again. Without stop.

His dark brown hair is damp from all the water and sweat, it sticks to his temples. He’s burning up, to the point that his face is flushed pink instead of tan, but he’s still shivering all over underneath the covers. 

Your heart hurts as you watch him endure such profound agony; it makes your chest squeeze tight. He’s clearly fallen ill in some shape or form and is in obvious pain, but no matter what you tell him, he simply refuses to go to the doctor’s office.

Truth be told, you feel rather surprised that his mom hasn’t dragged him there herself yet. Taking into account that she’s usually completely unfazed by his overwhelmingly stubborn nature, you’d expected her to not be taking any shit from her son whatsoever and would be firmly setting her foot down when it came to anything concerning his health. Granted, while he did inherit most of his obstinate qualities from her side of the family, the fact that—

“Stop worryin’ so much.”

You blink in surprise. “Mm?”

“I said stop worryin’.”

The feeble request that Kiba makes sounds firmer this time. It makes you look up from the rag you’ve been subconsciously clutching in your hands with a near death grip for the last five minutes or so. 

The slightly tingly feeling that dances within them now is somewhat hard to ignore. Especially at the tips of your fingers.

So you rest your hands on your lap, rubbing your palms up and down your jeans just to have something to do now that they’re empty. By the time you finally will yourself to turn your head, Kiba is already looking at you from the confines of the cozy prison that is his bed. 

His eyes are nearly half shut, eyelids heavy with lead-weighted exhaustion, but his expression is riddled with an emotion you’re not mature enough yet to fully decipher, much less understand.

Not that you’d ever tell him that, but you'd always considered him as the emotionally smarter one of your little duo; even with his awfully short temper taken into consideration. 

After all, while you excelled in academics, Kiba sought different places to thrive and prosper in. It didn’t take a genius to see that he’s practically been made to communicate with others; that he’s a proper people person. Shaped by people to be loved by people.

And the people do tend to love him. They really do.

Now that you think about it, that may also be the reason as to why he has way more friends than you. Why he can usually turn most situations to his favour, while you normally struggle to avoid the worst of outcomes. Why he knows how to read you like an open book Every. Single. Time, while you just play a never-ending guessing game of what’s happening inside that thick skull of his.

You’re an odd pair together. He’s nothing like you and you’re nothing like him. It’s no wonder that some don’t believe you’re actual friends at first, however Kiba has always been fast to prove them wrong. For some unknown reason, he’s attached you to himself and has been pulling you along for the ride ever since the day he first saw you. It’s been like that ever since.

Meanwhile, you’re just happy that you have someone to spend time with. Being so introverted proves to be quite a nuisance whenever it comes to meeting new people and acquiring friends, so he’s pretty much all you’ve got.

And that makes you care for him even more.

“How on earth am I supposed to ‘not worry’,” you begin to say quietly, making air quotes, “when my best friend has been practically chained to his bed for the last four days?”

Immediately, Kiba brushes you off with a flick of the wrist, gesturing that he thinks you’re overreacting. It pisses you off greatly, especially when he says, “Oh, please… I’m fine. You just worry too much.”

“Are you, though?” you ask. “Fine?”

“Are you?”

You exhale through your nose as you attempt to relax and wiggle your fingers, trying to appease him or convince him otherwise, you don’t know. 

The truth is, you want to tell him that no, you’re not fine. You want to tell him that you are worried sick for him because he is sick and won’t admit it. You want to tell him that you love him, that you care about him. Not in that kind of way, of course — goodness, no! — but in a way a young teenage girl who doesn’t know any better can love her best friend.

But instead, all you do is stay quiet because being considerate of others is your go-to. Besides, his headache is as bad enough as it is already. Who are you to make it worse by troubling him with your nonsense?

Unfortunately for you, Kiba doesn’t buy your rather bad portrayal of calm. All he does is sigh at it.

Continuously.

“What? What are you sighing for so much?” you instantly snap at the sound and aura of exasperation he emits, now. Your tone is razor sharp, much sharper than it needs to be, but you just can’t help yourself. Being so different from you, he can be outright infuriating sometimes.

“Nothin’,” he answers back, and yet he can’t resist giving you that look that definitely means there is something. “It’s nothin’, bunny.”

Your tone falls flat at the nickname he’s given you because of your rather timid personality, “Liar.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

He grunts, sighing again. “Oh, c’mon—”

“What?” you quip again. “You told me not to worry, so here I am; not worrying! I’m doing just like you’ve said.” 

The small wrinkle that’s etched itself between your brows deepens as the words rush out of you in one great swoop. It’s clear to you both that you don’t really mean them, but it looks like there’s definitely no sign of you admitting them coming any time soon.

“Fine, whatever.” Kiba almost sounds like he’s grumbling as he says, “You’re not worrying. There. Happy?”

You scoff. “No? Yes? I don’t know if I’m happy!”

He manages a weak smile at your indecisiveness, a mere quirk of an upper lip that’s not nearly as lively as it normally would be if he weren’t so sick. Your body tenses as he shuffles closer to the edge of the bed where you reside and nuzzles his face deeper into the pillow, wiping the sweat off his cheek right into the bedding this time around.

His voice comes across as muffled from the way he’s still hiding his face from view when he says, “I can practically see your brain catching on fire from all that worry that you’re apparently ‘not’ feeling, ya know.”

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling back as far as they’ll go. They just do it completely on their own accord whenever you’re with him, it seems. “And how can you possibly—”

He points at you with one tired hand and winces at how terribly heavy his arm feels with the action. It’s unpleasant and draining, but he wants to prove a point. So he keeps it nice and steady as he says, “Look, there’s smoke comin’ outta your ears already! You better chill out, or that lil’ pea brain of yours is gonna get burnt to a crisp or somethin’.”

He hisses like he’s just burnt himself after he teases you, drawing yet another scoff out of you. 

A pout graces your lips as you glare at him from underneath your lashes; ever the unexpected drama queen. “Well, at least I have a brain to burn, unlike yourself.”

His eyes settle on you again. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, dummy,” you say. “I can bet you five bucks that there’s nothing but hay stored inside that freakishly big head of yours!”

“I—” He bristles at your comment before his eyes open wide and he scowls. “Shut up! My head ain’t big!”

Your expression mirrors his own, now. “No, you shut up!”

“You can’t talk to me like that; I’m sick!”

“So you finally admit that you’re actually sick, huh?”

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant—”

“Nu-uh, you said it so you meant it!”

Everything is quiet as you lean forward to point and dig an accusatory finger into his chest. He tenses but relaxes in a beat of a moment as the remaining pads of your fingers join in and graze the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt. Swipe to the right, then slightly upwards, the flat of your palm rests above the place where his heart lies.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump! 

His heartbeat is fast. Strong. Like a song that makes you want to scream the lyrics to instead of singing them so that you can feel it better inside the marrow of your bones.

But you don’t feel like listening right now.

“Hey, what’re you—”

He squirms and lets out a small noise of surprise when you suddenly jab him in the ribs.

Exchanging a quick look of betrayal with your best friend as he slaps your hand away, you feel your lips start to quiver. It’s not long before you both succumb and break into a fit of quiet laughter. The tension gradually dissipates with every chuckle and snicker, right along with your worries. At least for a little while, that is.

Kiba’s laugh cracks midway. You’re unsure if it’s because of the fact that he’s not feeling well or because his voice is just getting deeper with age, however you’re still giggling by the time he clears his throat and reaches over to place his hand on top of your own.

Your eyes instinctively flit towards the contact. It’s not anything new, you’ve held hands with him before — god knows you’ve gotten fake-married on at least three different occasions throughout your childhood, and with three different flavoured ring pops, at that — but as you now gaze at the blunt crescents of his nails, you can’t for the life of you remember his hand ever being this hot to the touch.

It’s concerning.

“Dude,” you whisper, your voice slowly dropping from playful to wary. “I don’t want to nag you about it anymore since I know you don’t like it, but I seriously think that you should go see a doctor… You’re burning up and it’s probably—”

You twitch as Kiba gives your hand a gentle, albeit unexpected squeeze to make you look up at him again. 

Just like your voice, his expression has switched from his previously boyish one, to a much more somber kind that, truth be told, you’re not used to seeing on his face all that much.

It makes your sentence, well, rambling, gradually fade into silence as you finally indulge him for once by keeping your mouth shut. He used to think you were quiet back when he’d met you. Now he knows that you just have to get comfortable in order to start speaking.

Shadows from the swaying branches outside dance across the side of his face that he hasn’t got buried in the pillow. Looking like he’s contemplating something heavy, Kiba swallows the saliva that’s gathered in his mouth whilst he runs his thumb along your knuckles.

The brief attempt at soothing you manages to bring a smidge of peace to the otherwise growing hurricane of emotions that’s steadily whirling somewhere inside your ribcage, however it’s over much too soon to actually make any difference.

Your look of concern only worsens as a result. Concentrating hard, you manage to repress the sudden urge to start biting your nails and tugging on the sleeves of your cream-coloured sweater that you’ve put on this morning.

“I’m just worried about you, is all,” you admit what he already knows, so quietly that you doubt if he can even hear it. “I just want you to get better.”

“I know,” is all he says. He can smell it on you.

“Then why won’t you—” You squeeze your eyes shut, groaning with irritation. “Gosh, why won’t you just do something about it, then?”

“Because I have to tell you something first,” he trails off somewhat reluctantly, and for once, he sounds like he’s actually being completely serious. “You just… you gotta promise me that you won’t tell anybody.”

Your reply comes quicker than one sequence of his heartbeat, “I promise. Besides, who would I tell anyway?”

“I mean it,” he says. You watch as he shakes his head slowly, sighing for real this time, not just to annoy you. “You seriously can’t tell anybody; not even your mom or Sakura or Ino. Especially Ino, for that matter.”

Offence bubbles within your chest way too fast at the merest hint of distrust. Since when did he start thinking you were one to yap out every little thing he tells you? 

“And I really mean it, too,” you fuss, brow wrinkling. “Jeez, Kiba; if I promise you that I’m not going to tell, then I’m really not going to tell! I’m not that close with Ino and Sakura anyway.”

Kiba blinks, seemingly surprised by how heatedly invested you’ve gotten into learning his secret. But also by how close you’ve managed to squeeze yourself next to him with the upset feelings to overwhelm you, briefly forgetting the lengthy speech about how he should go see a doctor. How you wait, evidently impatient and with bated breath, just so that you’d be able to hear every word he has to say.

He’s been seeing you in a different kind of light as of late. So perhaps it’s time that he shed some of it on himself now.

He’s always been one to love the spotlight, after all.

———

“Well, well, well… do my eyes deceive me, or have you finally gotten taller, wolf boy?”

The short laugh Kiba lets out at your innocent taunt doesn’t crack like it did back when you were fourteen. Instead, it’s deep and hearty; it reverberates deep inside his chest, sounding like a voice a storm would possess if it had the ability to speak the human tongue.

“Still insisting on that ol’ nickname?” he asks as he rests one hand on his hip.

“Of course,” you reply, chuckling. It’s hard to take him seriously when he looks like a nearly perfect replica of his mother in that exact moment; standing so disapprovingly, red shopping basket in hand. “I mean, who would I be if I did not make fun of you every chance I get?”

“Well, I dunno,” he mumbles whilst his eyes flick up towards the ceiling, seemingly searching for something. And then he looks at you again, but this time with that infuriating half-smile that you can’t say you’ve missed as he says, “A decent fuckin’ person for a change? Maybe?”

It’s light-hearted, what he says. Fun and provocative, just like he is. Like he’s always been.

So you bite.

“Oh, Kiba, Kiba, Kiba,” you purr, angling your head to one side playfully whilst clicking your tongue against your teeth. Your hand presses against his chest, the action so familiar it’s become muscle memory by now even after years of not initiating it. “When has being decent ever been fun to someone like you, mm?”

And there it is. The strong heartbeat corresponding to the soft lilt that appears in your voice when his name leaves your lips. Just like it’s always done whenever your only goal was to fluster him for ‘funsies’.

However, the interaction that was once so familiar to you is not quite as recognizable this time around.

Because now, it invites his gaze to settle back onto your face rather than pushing it away into the corner of the room. 

So he stares at you now. Leers. 

You try your best to ignore the way your muscles instinctively stiffen at the sight of the prolonged slits that slowly switch places with his pupils. Try your best to pay no mind to the way your pulse suddenly accelerates, pumping blood and forcing all of your senses to become overwhelmingly acute.

It’s done so fast that it makes you feel sort of dizzy. He stands straighter and every single hair on your body stands to attention in return. Goosebumps cover your skin the same moment as it starts feeling like it’s being pulled taut over your bones. You try to blame the sensation of a chill creeping up the back of your neck on the store’s AC but you know better.

The people who surround you don’t matter anymore. This summer’s hit song that annoyingly keeps on playing on repeat over the speakers above your heads has turned to white noise. 

It’s just him and you and you and him. Past, present, future.

And fuck, his irises are no longer brown. They’re darker; golden, almost unnaturally yellow. The colour gets eaten up fast as the pupils expand and shrink continuously. He zeroes in on you, on your mouth, on the curve of your face, on the bare side of your neck that you’ve got exposed with your ponytail and the tilt of your head. 

It’s been years since he’s last looked at you like that; that one time before you ran off to college, when you took it a step too far with the innocent flirting and you’ve almost come too close for comfort. 

But unlike before, he simply refuses to tear his eyes off of you this time. Refuses to relent. Refuses to blush and turn away in that sheepish way that is so uncharacteristic for an exceptionally, sometimes annoyingly bold person like him and that reminds you more of yourself.

His odd persistence causes him to pin you down with a single look, making you freeze on the spot.

Just like a predator would do to potential prey.

But that’s silly. You’re not prey! You’re his best friend, or well, you used to be once in a time long past. So keeping that in mind, you force yourself to quickly shake the eerie feeling off of your suddenly tense body as if it’s a heavy winter’s coat you’ve foolishly donned on, and ease the sudden tightness that tries so hard to take up residency within your chest, now.

But despite all of the attempts at self-soothing, as well as the countless comforting, reassuring mantras that you keep on playing on a loop inside your head in the same way you do a newly-discovered song on Spotify, you don’t really know what he’s like anymore, now do you? 

You haven’t seen him in years, after all. Haven’t spoken to him in ages. You left him all alone, left him to his own devices after he’d given you the same look he’s giving you now.

What if he’s managed to become more wolf than human with all that alone time?

The question makes your head want to hurt, so it’s no wonder that your voice comes out somewhat small-sounding when you finally gather yourself just enough to murmur, “You’re doing the thing again.”

And his sounds just a smidge on edge, just a smidge too sharp as he takes a step closer and mutters, “Thing? What thing?”

“You’ve got, uh… y’know…” You swallow audibly and try not to pay attention to the way his gaze slides down to your throat because of it; to the way it softly bobs as the sticky spit travels down, down, down. You swear that you can see the corners of his lips kick up at the sight of it. “You’ve got nightmare eyes.”

“Huh?” It takes him a second to realize what you mean. To remember one of the old codes you’ve come up with using whenever you’re in public, amongst people who certainly don’t know what he truly is. 

And then, at long last, the intensity in his expression ceases and brightens up as the realization dawns upon him. It’s like a lightbulb turning on with the flick of a switch. 

“Oh. Shit. Fuck, umm,” he curses like a sailor whenever he’s caught off-guard. It makes you relax just the tiniest bit as he finally musters a genuine, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even… notice.”

You watch as he proceeds to rub his eyes with one hand, all whilst you exhale a long puff of air that you’d almost forgotten you were holding in the first place. 

He looks at you again, genuinely confused and apologetic, and this time with pupils back to their regular circular shape. It causes some primal sort of relief that reaches the very core of your psyche to wash over you.

You’re free to move again. 

“It’s— Hah, it’s fine,” you manage weakly. “Besides a pretty awkward start to a conversation, it’s no biggie, really.”

“Fine? It definitely ain’t fine,” he retorts immediately. “You wouldn’t be lookin’ like you’re scared shitless right now if it were fine.”

“Me? Scared of you? Oh, please!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest even if your limbs feel very wobbly and soft like jelly all of a sudden. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He blinks again, his look a slightly incredulous one. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

The bridge of your nose scrunches up in mild confusion as you ask, “Forgot what?”

Kiba grumbles this time, pointing to his own nose, “Uh, the fact that I can literally smell the fear on ya…?”

Oh. Oh! He’s right, you somehow did manage to forget that; forget his ability to smell how someone is feeling just from the way their hormone levels change the very base of their scent and the sweat they exude as a result. Or whatever the science behind it is.

Jesus fucking Christ. Him and his stupid wolf genes. What’s next, him pinpointing the day when your next period is due?

As if that hasn’t happened before.

“Wha—...? Of course not! Tsch.” You try to play it off with a click of a tongue that doesn’t manage to convince either of you. “What I don’t remember, however, is giving you permission to sniff me like some sleazy creep.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he bristles immediately at the remark. “You know damn well what I meant.”

You nod. “Yes, that you’re a sleazy creep.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” he asks. “Stop breathing around your presence?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He gives you a pointed glare. “It also wouldn’t hurt to try shutting the fuck up every once in a while, and yet here you are.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I’ve also managed to forget what a prick you are.”

“Right back atcha.”

You both share a short laugh at your little faux quarrel, the tension slowly relenting. The entire interaction is familiar. 

His shoulders relax, your heartbeat slows down to something a bit more normal. He doesn’t point it out just for the sake of not starting yet another petty argument.

“But seriously, don’t worry about it.” You pause at some point, stifling another brittle chuckle that bubbles up your throat. “I know you can’t control your weird, spooky eyes, okay? And besides, I’m used to them anyway! Well, kind of… I guess I’m used to them…? Gosh, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Is it because you’re nervous?

“Still,” he chides, sighing. “It’s been years and I should’ve learned how to fix it by now. It’s just—” He takes a breath. Ponders as various excuses and half-truths start bouncing off the walls inside his head. “It’s just that I dunno how to control it whenever you’re… umm...”

You give him a second, but when he doesn’t say anything else, you bite the bullet to ask, “Whenever I’m what?”

“Ah, nothin’,” he mumbles whilst scratching his cheek. You narrow your eyes as he fixes the brim of his cap. As he tugs on the collar of his thin t-shirt with its stupidly oversized Nike logo. He’s fidgeting all over the place, especially when he feels the need to add, “It’s nothin’.”

It feels like life is repeating itself all over again.

Your curiosity makes you lean further into his space just like you had a habit of doing back when you were kids. Only this time, he doesn’t take your hand. He doesn’t stroke your knuckles one by one, but rather pushes back, creating more space between your bodies.

Well, that’s new.

“C’mon.” Your tone falls slightly flat because of the sudden disappointment that reaches way deeper than you’d expected it to as you ask, “Whenever I’m what?”

He sounds surprisingly stern as he says, “I told you… it’s nothing.”

A long pause ensues. And then all he gets from you is an, “Okay.”

Awkwardness lingers in the air once again. It makes you both uncomfortable because neither of you is really used to the sudden quiet. You’ve gone through so much, so many experiences together and now it’s come to… this? Walking on eggshells around each other until the end of time just because of that one event in the past and now this one?

Fuck no. As if you’re going to let that happen.

So you plaster a smile onto your face, one that doesn’t really reach your eyes just yet as you say, “Just so you know, you’re acting hella weird right now.”

“Well what did you expect, bunny?” He shrugs and you try to act like you don’t notice the way his t-shirt tightens at all the right places with it. Goodness, he’s changed so much in just a couple of years, you can hardly believe it. “I mean, I bump into you after literal years of no contact whatsoever, and when I finally do, all you do is argue with me and call me a, what was it again, ‘sleazy creep’?”

It’s hard not to giggle at the air quotes he feels the need to show you with the two words. It makes your face lighten up as you say, “Stop calling me that.”

“What, bunny?” He smirks, now. Smirks! “Sure. But only after you stop calling me all of your stupid nicknames.”

You muse like a cat. “Why of course, Jacob.”

His expression turns blank in an instant, the smirk gone as quickly as it came. “Seriously?”

“What? It’s just a name, isn’t it?”

“Just so you know, I still regret the day you made me watch Twilight with you.”

“Oh, shush. You loved it, and besides; it was on theme!”

You feel your grin growing into a genuine one as he scoffs and grunts something under his breath in reply. He’s clearly annoyed with all your bullshit.

“Mm?” You blink, the corners of your lips twitching upward, persisting. “What was that?”

“Nothin’.”

“No, no, none of that again. Out with it; I want to hear what you said.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes, the honey that swirls in them as dazzling as ever. So syrupy sweet, his irises are an utter delight even under the unflattering fluorescent lights of the store. “I said that you’re still as insufferable as you used to be back when we were kids.”

The chuckle you let out now is one of pure amusement. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” he says as he pops the P. “A goddamn pain in my ass since day one.”

You quirk a brow. “Am I really, now?”

“Who else but you?”

It’s always been you.

His words spark a sensation of genuine fondness to swell so deep within your ribcage that you’re somewhat unsure of what to do with it. 

Confused, you push it to the side. Sweep it under the rug and allow it to join the already big pile of all the other unrequited feelings you’ve never dared to express. It’s easier to purposefully keep your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

You can’t see when you’re already blind.

“Any-ways,” you sing-song, extending your hand towards him. “It was good seeing you again. We should grab a coffee sometime, if you’re up for it?”

Instead of replying and shaking your hand, Kiba looks down at your polite gesture and nearly starts to frown at the sight of it.

“What?” you ask as the slight wrinkle between his brows continues to deepen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason.” He hesitates a bit then, swallowing hard. It makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I’ve just missed you, is all. This town fucking sucks ass when my girl’s not in it, ya know? And this whole handshake thing you’re doing is weird.”

Fuck. His honesty, the way he calls you his girl, the too-warm look in his too-warm eyes, fucking everything in that wretched moment makes you start feeling dizzy and causes sweat to gather in a layer so thick right on the flat of your awkwardly twitchy palms, one of which you’re still extending towards him.

What you wouldn’t give for a pair of pockets to stuff them into right now.

Because to be completely honest, you’re outright baffled by the reaction that your body throws at you with full force, now. He’s called you the same two words a million times before, alone or in front of other people — it never really mattered. To him, you were always his girl. It was that simple.

And while that did manage to stir up some emotions within you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge yet even back then, you always managed to play it off like it was no big deal. 

But those feelings have gotten stronger now, despite the distance. They’ve gotten potent. To the point where they’re almost deadly.

And they’re also sneaky, like a shadow grazing your back and breathing right at the spot where your neck connects to your shoulder. They gradually build up with each passing second of silence that hangs between you. They take their time to build up on momentum; like an avalanche or an upcoming tsunami. 

And for a moment, just for the shortest of moments, you swear that Kiba can tell.

But luckily for you, he seems to be oblivious about it, or is at least playing it off like he is. And that’s good! The least he can do after cooking up this mess, is save you the embarrassment that you most certainly don’t wish to live through, thank you very much! 

So you do the next best thing that is currently at your disposal. 

You object to his genuine affection like an idiot. 

“Whaaat? You missing me?” Internally cringing at how high your voice is getting in pitch, you’re almost positive that it must hurt his sensitive wolf hearing. However, much to your dismay, you just can’t fucking stop acting weird for some reason. “Pfsh… Didn’t anyone tell you that lying isn’t nice, Inuzuka?”

For fuck’s sake, you’re acting like he’s holding you at gunpoint.

“Uh… Okay? Hah…?” He gives you a look filled to the brim with doubt, his dark brows faintly scrunching together again. “Well, you wanna know what else ain’t nice?”

All you can do is nod. You’re on the verge of killing yourself right here and now.

“Well, how ‘bout,” he pretends to ponder, rubbing his chin. “Oh! How ‘bout forgetting all about your best friend the moment you start attending some fancy, goody two shoes college halfway across the country. Yeah.”

It’s your turn to offer him your best unimpressed stare this time. Your heart feels like it’s stuck inside your throat, pulse rattling behind your teeth. 

You can’t really tell if he’s joking or not. His tone may be light, sure, but you aren’t able to read him as well as you used to back in the day, and even then it was pretty bad.

He’s gotten… complicated.

Much like your entire friendship has.

You can still remember the almost kiss that never happened back at his place that caused this entire flurry of very, very confusing emotions to start in the first place, or at least present themselves at the surface. Right on the night before you’d packed your bags and ran off to the other side of the country, nearly fully ghosting him on the spot. Your best friend.

“C’mon, man,” you mumble, “don’t be like that.” The guilt is bad enough as it is.

“Like what?” he asks. As is regret.

“Don’t hold a grudge like you always do. I’ve come home loads of times between semesters; during the holidays especially,” you hesitantly retort, frowning. “And besides, it’s not like you weren’t gone all the time either. I saw your posts about all the backpacking and all those roadtrips and whatnot... With Tamaki.” 

The mention of his ex-girlfriend catches him off guard. He blinks, flicking his gaze towards the stacked shelves that suddenly seem to become like the most interesting thing in the world.

Goddammit, you’d almost kissed him while— while—

Still, despite all of that, you wait for him to say something first. Patiently, impatiently; you don’t even know anymore.

“I called,” he lamely offers at long last.

“Well, I texted,” you reply in a heartbeat.

“Barely,” he corrects. “You barely texted.”

Your expression falls somber in an instant. Of course he’d paint you as the bad guy as effortlessly as it is to breathe. It’s what cancers are known for. Especially cancer men.

“Well,” you stumble, shrugging. “What did you want me to do, Kiba? I-I mean, you had a girlfriend.”

“So?” 

He doesn’t even ask how you know that they’ve broken up. But to be fair, when you stop posting couple photos on your stories and feed and suddenly unfollow each other, it’s a pretty obvious tell.

“So? So?” You stare at him, taken aback. “I seriously doubt Tamaki would’ve been happy to see some random chick blowing up your phone constantly.”

“But you’re not some random chick. You were my best friend… you still are,” he says and Jesus on a fucking cross, the way he says the words makes him sound so fucking hurt. 

“I know,” is all you can offer. The weight that suddenly sits on your shoulders makes you want to slump. That, or either curling yourself into a ball.

The feeling only gets worse when he says, “We were supposed to go on those trips together.”

“I know,” you repeat. “I’m sorry.”

He fixes the brim of his cap again. “Are ya, though? Sorry?” 

“Yes! Of course I am!” You scowl so hard that it makes the bridge of your nose scrunch up in annoyance. “If I could do something about it, I would. Trust me.”

He looks at you; really looks at you. Up and down. And then he says, “Then do it.”

“Do what?” you ask dumbly.

“Go on a trip with me,” he explains. “Today.”

“Today?”

“Did I fuckin’ stutter?”

You stare at him. He stares right back, gaze unmoving. 

Fucking hell, he’s actually serious about this.

“But I’m… I’m not really a backpacking kind of girl,” you try meekly. 

Just the mere idea of going somewhere remote with him completely alone is making you feel warm all over. You need to get yourself out of this mess ASAP!

“No worries,” he replies faster than a heartbeat. “We can always go camping.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Camping?”

“Yeah. For one night,” he says. “I know a really good spot that I go to all the time.”

“But I–” You fumble once more, looking down at the pretty nail polish on your toes. “I don’t even have the proper clothes for it. Like those fancy gym clothes.”

“Heh.” You attempt to ignore the way his chuckle makes your heart want to jump. Especially as he leans in slightly to say, “All you need is a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Oh, or maybe those grey leggings that you always liked to wear and that make your ass look great… Do you still have those?”

He snickers like a child when you punch him in the shoulder.

“And what about the hiking boots, you perv?” you ask, brushing off his lewd comment with heat creeping up your neck. 

“What about ‘em?”

“I don’t have those either.”

“Christ, we’re not going that far, bunny.” He laughs, looking at you in disbelief. “A pair of sneakers will do. You’re talking and planning like I’m gonna take you all the way up to the mountains like I’m some fuckin’ dragon or some shit.”

Your eyes surely must be getting tired from rolling back so much. “Hilarious.”

He waits on your answer with a smile; the one that shows that wretched dimple in his cheek and that makes him look entirely innocent despite the oddly sharp canine teeth. 

Goddammit, you want to kill him because of how cute he is. However, you’re still feeling slightly unsure about the entire thing. 

Evidently reluctant, you ask, “Just one night?”

“Just one night,” he confirms, nodding vehemently.

“And there isn’t going to be a full moon or anything… of that sort?”

He chuckles at the hidden question. “I wouldn’t really be out here shopping for groceries if there was a chance for that to happen, now would I?”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” you trail off. You glance up at him, not fully convinced yet. “Do you promise that you’ll take care of everything?”

“‘Course,” he says.

“Say it, then.”

“Say what?”

“That you promise.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!”

He sighs at how persistful you are. As if he’s any better! “Fine. I promise that I’ll take care of everything.” 

Even you.

Seconds pass. One second, two, three. Staring at him with both of your brows tightly knit together, you can literally feel his excitement transferring itself to you through some invisible link between you which you’ve never quite managed to sever. You suppose his emotions are just that contagious.

“Well?” he inquires, all giddy-like. “What d’you say?”

“Well,” you trail off, kissing your teeth. “I suppose… a single night can’t really hurt?”

“Fuck, yes!” he exclaims and before you know it, you’re being pulled into a bear hug you didn’t even realize how much you’ve missed until you’re caught in it all over again.

Your cheek smushes against his chest. Muscle memory kicks in once more; persuading your arms to move on their own accord, letting them wrap around the familiar place a little above his waist that doesn’t feel as familiar anymore. 

He smells good, like amber, the very heart of a forest and all things wild. It’s earthy, rich, inhumanly strong. It fills your nose, titillates your senses and makes lush greenery and spices start to take root inside your lungs. 

Every breath makes you dizzier and it’s hard to keep your composure as a result; especially when there’s a sequence of powerful thump, thump, thumps pounding right against your ear, now.

His heartbeat is so fast. It’s like he has two.

You’re silent as you listen to the quick rhythm of his heart. And for a change, so is he. Feeling unsure how much time is passing, you continue to cling onto your best friend in the middle of the empty aisle, reawakening all the memories, warming your body with his heat even if it’s hot enough outside to fry an egg on the concrete. 

The soles of your colourful flip-flops will surely stick to the sidewalk when you walk back home to gather your things and explain your unexpected trip to your parents.

“Kiba—” The last part of his name melds into a giggle from the way he squeezes you so tight that your spine pleasantly cracks in all the places that have been feeling way too stiff from the all-nighters you had to pull during exam week, and progresses into a quiet squeal for help by the time he swings you from side to side like an excited boy would his favourite toy.

“Ugh, m’sorry!” He laughs as he releases you, letting you plant your feet back onto the white tiles where they belong. “I just had to get that outta my goddamn system. It’s been building up for years.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, punching his shoulder again, this time playfully. “I always knew you were secretly a softy.”

The tips of his ears turn pink at that. The blush is not strong enough to be noticed by you, but he feels the warmth, feels the subtle prickling along the back of his neck.

Why is it so intense?

It makes his voice drop lower as he mutters a flustered, “As if.”

“What, I really did!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever… But all jokes aside, I really am glad that you’re back,” he admits before you can beat him to it. He pulls back just enough to look you directly in the eyes and smiles. “I really did miss you a whole lot, bunny.”

It’s hard to be vulnerable and admit that you’ve missed him too, so you keep quiet as you plaster your best smile onto your lips again and reach up to jokingly flick the tip of his nose.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

Perhaps it’ll distract him from the fact that unlike him, you’re as cowardly as they get.

———

“Hey, I meant to ask… How come you didn’t bring Akamaru with you today?”

Some time after bumping into you in the grocery store, Kiba stills for a second at the innocent question you present before him whilst walking the narrow forest path that is supposed to be leading you to your destination.

In the late afternoon hours, the forest feels like it’s alive. There are birds chirping amongst the branches of the trees above your heads and warm sunlight filters through the leaves. A nearby stream keeps busy by smoothing down the rocks inside it. Everything thrives during the summer.

Even the air smells better; like it’s been thoroughly ridden of your town’s signature scent. But despite the fact that you’ve reached the point of summer when dog days are approaching fast, every inhale you take now feels fresh and satisfyingly cool instead of sticky whilst it travels down your airway.

It’s nice to be able to breathe again. 

And as for Kiba, well, he wishes he could say the same.

Following closely behind you, the young werewolf realizes that he is finding it harder and harder to concentrate the further progress you make on your hike. And while there may be plenty of reasons for his lack of focus at the moment, taking the fact that you’ve still got a lot of catching up to do into account, the main one is also the one that concerns him the most.

You just smell so fucking delicious to him, it’s insane.

He wants to devour you.

And how couldn’t he want that? There are phantom strawberries weaved into your hair and clothes from the matching shampoo and body wash set that you must have showered with before leaving your house. Sunscreen sits on your skin, turning the fruity notes even more summery than they already are.

If he walks close enough, he can even smell the sweat that slowly gathers on the back of your neck as you ascend the gradual slope of the hill that he’s planning to set up camp on.

So yeah, it’s hard to stay away, when all your scent does is lure him in. Hard to keep in-check, when you’re practically calling out to him, inviting him to come closer. He’s missed the way you smell so much.

God, if only he could just shove his nose into the crook of your neck and—

“Kiba?”

“Huh?” 

The man in question blinks now, looking up only to find you standing several meters ahead of him; hands glued to your hips and brow quirked. He didn’t even realize that he’d come to a full stop while thinking about certain scenarios he’d rather not say out loud for the sake of your well-being.

“Sorry,” he says before he awkwardly clears his throat and quickens his pace to reach you again. “What did you say? I kinda got sidetracked for a bit there.”

“By what?” You part your lips wider, huffing whilst trying to gather your breath. He looks like he hasn’t even broken a sweat while you’re literally feeling like your lungs are about to collapse any second now. To make matters even worse, he’s also skilfully avoided the pesky tree root that almost made you trip earlier without even as much as glancing at it. 

“You know what, never mind that,” you say, shaking your head. “I just asked why you didn’t bring Akamaru with us today?”

“Oh, umm… Well, ya know; he’s gotten pretty old by now so he can’t really make the trek as effortlessly as he used to,” he starts to explain and you don’t miss the hint of melancholy that overcomes his voice ever so slightly now. “Nowadays I just leave him at my mom’s whenever I go hiking.”

“Oh,” you mutter while wrapping your fingers around the straps of your old backpack which you’ve dug up from the back of your sibling’s closet. Your grip tightens a bit as you add, “I’m sorry about that. I know how much you care about that dog.”

“I mean, it’s not like he’s dead or anything, hah,” he says, his chuckle kind of bitter. “He’s just a senior dog now, doing senior things. Nothing wrong with that, don’tcha think?”

“True,” you mumble, feeling guilty that you’d even asked the question in the first place. I mean, of course his puppy would be old by now. He's had him ever since he was seven, for crying out loud!

“So, anyway,” you say as you turn around to continue your way up the hill you’re practically yearning to reach the top of now, “you just go hiking alone, then? Since Akamaru stays at your mom’s?”

“Mostly, yeah,” he replies as he follows suit. You try not to pay attention to how attentive you are to his presence all of a sudden. “Before, it was usually just me and Tam, but now that—”

You pretend not to notice the way he cuts himself off mid-sentence the moment he accidentally mentions his ex-girlfriend’s name. Pretend that hearing it doesn’t make your chest feel a bit too tight all of a sudden, and not from lack of air or your rather poorly prowess in physical fitness.

“Uh,” he fumbles.

“Don’t you get scared, though?” you continue as if nothing has happened, helping him out. “Hiking all alone?”

If he’s grateful for your assistance, he doesn’t show it, because now he sounds genuinely confused as he says, “What is there to be scared of, exactly?”

His question makes you come to an abrupt stop. You turn your head to the side so that you can look at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘what is there to be scared of’? It’s a forest, Kiba.”

“So?” he replies, sounding even more confused.

“Are you being for real right now?” The blatantly puzzled look that settles onto his face puzzles you just as greatly in return, now. 

Especially when he says, “I’m not entirely sure how you want me to answer that.”

“Well, I don’t know,” you say. “What if there’s, like… a bear, or something?”

He snorts at your idea, making you feel like you’re stupid for even suggesting a thing like that in the first place. 

“What?” you fuss, glaring at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just that there aren’t any bears in these woods, dummy,” he answers, the last word kind despite if it’s usually meant as something derogatory.

You scoff, rolling your eyes for the millionth time today. “And how would you know that, oh, wise, all-knowing one?”

Kiba pauses as he smirks, rather resting his gaze onto a spot somewhere amongst the tree line instead of you. You catch the slight flutter of a muscle in his cheek as he grits his teeth and exhales.

His voice is low, but confident as he finally says, “Because around these parts, sweetheart, I’m the biggest predator. And luckily for us, bears tend to keep to themselves instead of picking fights with something that is much, much bigger than them.”

You’re not entirely sure if you want to know how big he can actually get, nor how far he’s actually able to see with those wolf eyes of his as he keeps on looking off into the greenery. His expression is one of the most complacent ones you’ve seen in a long while. 

Still, you manage just enough bravery to swallow the thick saliva that’s now started to gather inside your mouth so that you can ask, “So you’re saying that you can take a bear in a fight? Like an actual living, breathing bear?”

“I mean,” he drawls, shrugging in such a nonchalant way that it only pisses you off further, “it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your eyes open wide as your heart drops to your fucking ass. “What?! Are you serious?”

“No, I’m joking.”

Dead silence meets him from your side at his bad take on a prank. And Kiba — foolish, brainless Kiba — can’t help but start laughing at the look of pure, unhinged fury that starts to twist your features now. It makes your nostrils outright flare like a bull’s that’s been irked for far too long.

He gets startled when you start stomping towards him, though.

“I’m sorry—” He begins walking backwards to cause more distance between himself and the wrath that is you, laughter still escaping his lips. “I didn’t think that you’d actually—”

You’re too angry at him to notice how good his balance actually is. He doesn’t trip once despite the fact that he’s blindly walking backwards on uneven terrain; much less loses his footing or actually falls over.

His abnormally honed sense of stability only drives you more mad. By the time you finally catch up to him and shove him by pressing both hands against his chest, the startled little yelp he lets out in response is barely satisfying.

“Hey, don’t do that; I’ll fall!”

“Good, because that’s what I was hoping for!”

“Oh, c’mon… Hey!” He comes to a stop, grabbing you by the wrist when you try to strike him for a second time. ���I told you I was sorry, didn’t I?”

“Sorry? Sorry? Oh, go fuck yourself, you absolute dick,” you snap at his half-assed apology and are practically gritting your teeth whilst trying not to pay mind to how his touch practically sears your skin. “I hope a bear actually does come into these woods just so it can maul you into a million tiny little pieces!”

“Aha… I’d like to see it try.” His eyes burn like a furnace when he says that. It’s even worse when he yanks on your wrist and pulls you closer, as if to prove a point.

The fire within subdues your own flames in an instant. It makes you lose your edge.

“You— You— Ugh!” The slight upturn of your nose almost comes across as snobbish as you whip your head away from him in one sharp movement and shove him again with your free hand, causing his grip to break free, but not because you want it to. “Go away.”

Watching you with profound amusement, Kiba thinks all your worrying is to die for.

Nothing’s really changed, now has it?

And as a result, the smile in his voice is almost unbearably audible as he hurries after you the moment you start walking again. Your pace has become much faster than it was before, but he has no trouble whatsoever in catching up. 

He’s right behind you as he says, “I was just fucking with you a lil’ bit, can you blame me?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you retort coldly, still not looking at him. “I most definitely can.”

“Christ, don’t be like that, bunny,” he says, nudging you in the shoulder with the help of his palm. 

The touch, mostly platonic and what you’d consider meant to be purely reassuring in nature, nevertheless causes your entire body to end up becoming overly tense instead. This is the second time that goosebumps outright tighten your skin as his fingers slide down and graze your shoulder blade, as well as one of the backpack’s straps before letting go. 

It’s hard to walk the path like a normal person, when every time he touches you feels like he’s leaving you burning in his wake.

“Are we cool now?” he asks when you don’t bother replying. You simply can’t.

“No, we’re not ‘cool’, you moron. Fuck you,” you answer when he nudges you for a second time, still fuming. Better yet, you’re the exact opposite from cool.

“Mm,” he hums, seemingly deep in thought. You think that he’s finally going to leave you alone, however, much to your dismay, not even a minute of quiet passes before he’s opening his mouth again, asking, “Wanna tell me why you’re so mad?”

“Gee, I wonder; maybe because you’ve got me losing my shit in the middle of the goddamn woods?” You scowl at him before pointing your gaze back onto the ground so that you can avoid falling onto your ass at the worst moment. “I mean honestly, how stupid can you get to even ask me that?”

“Well—”

“Don’t answer that!”

“Okay. Okay.” Kiba forces himself to stop the slight, upward curl of his lips at your agitated tone. This is not a laughing matter; or at least that is what he keeps telling himself for your sake. “What do you want me to do, then?”

“I want you to go away,” you repeat, exasperated at how he’s obviously fighting every urge to laugh at your bitter attitude. 

As is expected, he pays you no mind and instead keeps following after you like he’s a dog tied to a leash that your hand holds. You can hear his footsteps trailing closely behind. “And where am I supposed to go, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, frowning. “Just go!”

“But I don’t wanna.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit that you don’t give a shit.”

“Fine!” You huff, a certain kind of tightness in your expression when you look at him. “Fine. I’ll go, then!”

“And where are you gonna go, huh? There isn’t a single inch of these woods that I don’t know like the back of my hand.” He looks at you, his eyes glimmering with a subtle yellow shade instead of their usual brown. “I’ll just track you down like I always do.”

With the expectant, borderline mischievous look he dares you with now, he reminds you of an overexcited puppy. 

Damn him. You’re not sure if you’re irked or envious by how unpredictable and free-spirited he is.

It only makes you angrier.

“I don’t know, Kiba,” you fuss, looking away and pinching the bridge of your nose to save yourself from getting flustered all over again. “Probably somewhere far away from you, because to be completely honest, you’re annoying the utter, living crap outta me right now, okay?”

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, paying mind to the way your voice cracks midway. You’re clearly upset, frustrated, perhaps even overwhelmed by the way he keeps one-upping you with every sentence.

It prompts him to walk closer to where you stand. To lean into your space, carefully reach out and pry your hands away from your face so that he can give you that same look that he’d given you all those years ago when he’d been sick and you were swinging by his house every single day after school. 

The one that’s completely, utterly riddled with an emotion you cannot bring yourself to understand even to this day.

“God, what do you want now?” you ask, your gaze still persistently avoidant.

“I want to apologize,” he says, this time completely serious. When you look up, he continues, “I know that I can be… a lot to handle at times, and—” 

You purse your lips, mumbling under your breath, “Yeah, well, a lot is an understatement when it comes to you.”

He chuckles, huffing a laugh. “Okay, smartass; shush. I wasn’t done talkin’ yet.”

You glower at the way he shushes you, but otherwise keep silent.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. I also know that it drives you up the wall when I’m a lot, so… yeah. I’ll tone it down, but you also gotta stop worrying so damn much, okay? It ain’t good for ya.”

“What do you mean by that?” you ask.

“What I mean is that you’re just always actin’ so goddamn uptight, bunny; I can sense it! So just… try and relax for once, yeah? Allow yourself to enjoy something that’s a lil’ bit spontaneous. Go fuckin’ crazy, go wild; all that good shit, ya know?” he says, and all of a sudden he’s resting both big palms on your shoulders, shaking you gently as if trying to rid you of your nerves. “Deal?”

“I wasn’t… worrying.” Your heartbeat quickens at the doubtful look he gives you next. “But yeah. Yeah, okay. Deal. Going crazy, going wild; woo…”

You’re soap-sliver thin. Transparent. Ever the complicator. That ‘woo’ was pitiful.

But it’s a start.

“Attagirl, there she is,” he says as he ruffles your hair and fixes his backpack back into place. It encourages you to do the same with your own while he slips by you and walks a couple steps ahead, letting you breathe again. “Now let’s go. We’re almost there, but I wanna get the tent ready before the sun gets the chance to set.”

“Tent?” you mumble, following after him. “As in… singular?”

“Yeah?” This time it’s his turn to look at you over his shoulder. “What, did you think that I was gonna carry two of ‘em on my back? We’re sharing; it’s easier.”

Thump, thump, thump!

“Oh. Um.” You swallow hard as you rub the spot where your heart lies with a sweaty hand. “Okay.”

He’s quiet for a second. And then he asks, “Does that make you uncomfortable…? ‘Cause at the end of the day, I can always sleep outside. I just thought it’d be—”

“No, we’re good,” you say, cutting him off. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t slept together before,” you say. And nearly choke on your own words. “Wait! Wait, I-I meant like, you know, like back when we were younger.”

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

God, you’re thankful that he’s walking ahead of you so that he can’t see you experiencing your meltdown.

Kiba seems to ignore your little hiccup, because all he says now is, “Positive?”

You take a deep breath. Exhale. Clear your head just enough to ask, “What’s with all the questions all of a sudden…?”

“Nothin’,” he mumbles, his posture straight. “I just wanna make sure you’re cool with it.”

“Yeah, well all it’s doing is making me feel nervous again.”

“Oh, shit; okay, okay!” He turns to look at you again, his eyes wide. “We’re relaxing, we’re chilling… Look at the pretty nature, look at the trees! So zen, right? Real ‘live, laugh, love’ type of shit right here, yes, ma’am!”

Eventually, his rambling makes timid laughter echo throughout the forest.

What an idiot.

———

Ever since you’ve set up camp and settled on the small clearing on top of the hill, you’ve learned three things.

One, the stars are a beautiful sight that stretches far and beyond the inky sky when there’s not as much light pollution present to dim them out. 

Two, your best friend is a master when it comes to putting up a tent and starting a campfire.

And three, he can also whip up some really, I mean really mean s’mores.

That last one is why you’re practically humming whilst you sit by the fire that night; dressed in your favourite hoodie and continuously licking droplets of melted chocolate off your fingertips with utmost delight.

With his dark irises adorned with dancing orange flames, Kiba’s eyes can best be described as blazing when he looks up at you.

“Whath?” you mumble, mouth full of marshmallows.

“Easy there, tiger,” he taunts. “Leave some for the rest of us, will ya?”

“Leave me alone,” you answer just as lightheartedly when you swallow. Finally willing yourself to relax, your voice sounds muffled because of how you pop the tip of your thumb out of your overly-sweet mouth, “As if you didn’t eat like six of them already.”

“I ate six ‘cause I’m a big fella with an even bigger appetite,” he counters immediately. “What’s your excuse?”

“Well, if you must know,” you brush him off with a rather sassy flick of the wrist. “I’m ovulating right now and it makes me hungrier than usual.”

Just as you’ve expected, Kiba splutters and nearly drops the bottle he’d just been drinking water out of. A series of coughing and choking noises ensue that make it very hard to hide your satisfaction.

By the time he manages to collect himself, you’re still musing. “You okay there, Inuzuka?”

“Christ,” he says, his voice so hoarse that it forces him to clear his throat for a second time around. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing like always. “It’s just that you don’t have to be so upfront about it.”

“Um, okay…? I was just joking, you know... Didn’t think you’d take it as seriously as you did.” Your upper lip quivers as you let out a quiet, almost self-deprecating laugh at the look of guardedness that crosses his face when you speak the words. 

It’s almost like he’s conflicted about how to act around you all of a sudden. 

And it’s also the reason why you can’t help but ask, “What’s the big deal, though? Does it gross you out or something?”

“No. Gosh, no,” he immediately says and for a second you swear that there’s a blush tinging his already sun-kissed cheeks when he turns to look at the fire instead of you. 

He seems to be struggling with finding the right thing to say as he runs his hands up and down his knees and brings them closer to his chest. “You know I’m not like that. It’s just that… well, I don’t wanna think about it, is all. About you, in that kind of way, I mean.”

He can’t risk it because he can still remember the scent of it from way back when he was seventeen. Can still remember how dangerously good it smelled it to him.

God, you were so alluring to him. You still are.

“Oh.” Ouch. You don’t realize that you take his words the wrong way, so they sting you in the place where your heart supposedly lies. Nevertheless, you still manage to smile like the brave girl you’re trying to be as you say, “Well, luckily for you; you won’t have to, because I haven’t ovulated in like three years or so, hah.”

He perks up as his eyes shift back to you. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”

You shake your head, wishing to move on from the conversation but this time he strangely persists, pestering you to give him an answer even if he’d been the one acting weird about it earlier.

So you finally oblige, “Well, uh, I’m on birth control.”

He tilts his head to the side like a dog. “Why?”

Your brow furrows. “What do you mean ‘why’?”

He looks at you like you’re dumb. “Why are you on birth control?”

“Because I don’t want to get pregnant while having sex…?” you trail off. “Isn’t that supposed to be obvious?”

His eyes widen, dark brows shooting up so high that they could touch his hairline. “You’re fucking someone?”

Now is your turn to be taken aback. “I-I mean… I used to, yeah.”

Displeasure turns Kiba’s stomach into a pit of despair. He realizes that he’s not very fond of the idea of someone touching you like that. “When? And who?”

“I’m not telling you that!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to talk to you about my sex life!”

“Why not?” he repeats, still oddly intrigued, almost nosy. “I can tell you all ‘bout mine if you tell me ‘bout yours.”

“Hell no.” You whip your head forward, glaring into the fire whilst grabbing the nearby stick that you used to roast — or should you say burn — your marshmallows with before. Poking the embers with it, the frown that’s on your lips only deepens now as you watch the sparks dance up into the night sky. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass on listening to you talk about all your failed sexual conquests.”

He chuckles with what you think is amusement, but the sound is oddly strained. “What makes you think that they’re failed ones?”

You purse your lips. “Well, you’ve broken up with Tamaki, didn’t you?”

“I broke up with Tam for other reasons,” he mutters, his smile wavering for a slight second. “The sex had nothin’ to do with it.”

You don’t want to tread these waters and besides, it’s better to keep things light. So you sit straighter as you stick your tongue out at him, taunting, “Or maybe it’s just your insanely small dick that’s to blame, did you ever think about that?” 

“Oh, yeah, bet. It’s definitely small, all right.” Kiba huffs a laugh at your jab. And then he leans slightly closer; not too close, but just enough for the proximity to feel slightly more intimate than platonic. 

His pupils are so big that they remind you of two vortexes as he whispers, “Wanna take a look just to make sure?”

Sinful thrill erupts within your gut at the closeness and his rather sly comment. It shakes you to your core even if you don’t want it to. So with your train of thought becoming all fucked up and wacky all of a sudden, you turn away from facing him, feeling the heat from the fire kiss your already much too-warm cheeks.

With your voice merely above a murmur, you sound like you’re almost out of breath as you utter, “You’re so gross.”

“Eh,” he shrugs and crosses his arms behind his head as he pushes further back against the log you’re both leaning against with the provided comfort of your backpacks. “You’re used to it.”

“What I am,” you say, side-eyeing him, “is traumatized.”

“Oh, boohoo.” He pretends to pout, closing his eyes, “Big bad Kiba keeps on bullying me. Poor, poor me.”

You giggle, poking the embers again. “Remember back when Sasuke used to bully you in elementary?”

“Tsch.” You watch as he clicks his tongue, his eyes still closed. “That Uchiha twink definitely did not bully me.”

“He kept on saying how your teeth were too big to properly fit inside your mouth.”

“Mhmmm,” Kiba drawls, crossing one ankle over the other. His eyelids flutter open slightly, the orange glow from the fire further complimenting his tan skin and dark hair. “And then, if memory serves right, I bit him for it.”

“And then you bit him for it, yes,” you echo, stifling another giggle. It makes your shoulders shake as you tug on the sleeves of your oversized hoodie. “Oh my gosh, remember how pissed Mr. Umino got at you for that?”

“I think I got like two weeks of detention for it,” he drawls. “It was worth it though... I never liked Sasuke all that much for some reason.”

“No, I think it was more like three weeks than it was two? Because I remember having to walk back home from school all alone every day and thinking how it was taking ages.”

“Yeah?” He turns slightly so that he can look at you from the corner of his eye. “You actually remember that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask.

“Uh,” he blinks, his expression turning blank. “‘Cause instead of paying attention to the pain and suffering of your best friend, you were probably way too busy actin’ annoyingly obsessed with Sasuke, just like every other girl was doing in our year?”

“What?” Your eyebrows knit together at this newly-acquired information. “I wasn’t obsessed with him!”

Kiba turns to give you a look that outright spells bullshit.

“Come on,” you glance at him, head hanging low. “Don’t gimme that look.”

“What look?” he answers, still giving you that exact look.

“The one that makes me feel like I’m lying.”

The corners of his lips quirk upward. “But you are lying.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Ugh.” You scoff, playing with the strings on your hoodie. “Fine, maybe I did have a little crush on him. You can’t really blame me for it, though! Sasuke was, like… devastatingly pretty, okay?”

“So that’s your type, huh?” he asks, his foot dancing along the rhythm of a silent song you probably don’t know. “Pretty boys? Sorry, devastatingly pretty boys?”

“I don’t have a type,” you counter, ignoring his jab.

“Sure you do.”

“I seriously don’t.”

“Everyone has a type, though.”

“Not me.”

Kiba falls silent for a moment as he stares into the fire. You pass the time by watching the flames dance across his cheekbones; along the dangerously sharp line that is his jaw. His eyelashes are thick and long, and the curve of his nose is delicate and slightly upturned at the end.

He looks like he’s still deep in thought by the time he finally says, “Well, maybe you just haven’t found it yet. Your type, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you reply, unable to stop staring at his side profile. “Maybe.”

Or maybe, just maybe, your type is right in front of your nose.

———

What you also learn after stomping out the campfire and clambering inside the tent that night, is that even though you’ve slept in the same bed countless of times before, the entire ordeal is much different now that your best friend has gotten bigger.

Because instead of laying beside you like he used to do back in the day when you were kids, Kiba somehow ends up fully surrounding you this time.

He’s everywhere all at once, his presence and that warm amber scent filling every last inch of the small tent you’re both currently residing in. Being so close to him, practically wrapped in his embrace and with your back firmly pressed against his chest, feels oddly familiar even if it’s currently being executed for the sole purpose of keeping you warm throughout the night.

But it’s not quite the same, now that you’re adults, now is it? 

It’s almost… inappropriate. In some way at least.

“Should’ve brought warmer clothes with ya, bunny,” he mumbles at some point, his face so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath brushing the back of your neck. “You’re practically shiverin’.”

His drawl — even more prominent now that you think he’s half-asleep — makes your blood want to boil, and not out of anger. He talks to you like he’s trying to get into your panties, but you know that that’s not the case. 

He’s made it pretty fucking clear that he wants nothing to do with you with the whole ‘being too upfront’ situation earlier, after all.

So you take a deep breath to calm yourself — and hopefully whisk the confusing thoughts away that are doing more harm than good — before you murmur, “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

He chuckles as he gives your stomach a single stroke, the sound lazy and laid-back just like the movement is. “Mm… I believe it’s mine.”

“No shit.” You sigh as you curl yourself tighter and shift even closer to his chest that is providing you with all this heavenly warmth you simply can’t get enough of. “God, I can’t believe that I’ve let you talk me into going camping in just my leggings and an old hoodie… I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

“Hey, now,” he objects, “you can trust me. I just forgot that regular humans can’t handle the cold as well as I can.”

“If I could trust you, I wouldn’t be freezing my ass off in the middle of the woods right now, Kiba!” You whine, annoyed. “Ugh, you’re always so reckless and never stop to think things through. Nothing’s changed.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” he mutters into the dark, lips a firm line of seriousness. He always finds you so cute whenever you get pissy and say his name like that, but something with your sentence doesn’t sit right with him this time. “But I’m trying to fix it, aren’t I?”

“Well, so far you’re not doing that good of a job,” you pout in answer. “I’m still cold.”

Silence settles between you for a couple of moments. The only sound you can hear, or should you rather say feel, is the strong beating of his heart as it drums against your spine.

It turns a bit erratic by the time he says, “I’ve got an idea.”

You roll over to look at him. “What kind of idea?”

“Hear me out,” he says. “How about you take off your—”

Nearly choking on your own saliva, you try to ignore the way his quickening pulse makes your tummy tighten as you rush to cut him off with a high-pitched, “No!”

“Just hear me out, will ya?” Kiba’s voice fades into nothing as he rests his chin on the top of your head. He’s mumbling as he says, “If you get undressed, it’ll be easier to—”

“Nope! Nope, nope, nope,” you squeak out, quickly shaking your head, making him pull back slightly. “Absolutely not.”

“But you didn’t even let me finish!”

“And I don’t need to, because I know exactly where this is going,” you chide, brow furrowing so prominently that there’s a small v etching itself into your forehead, now. “I am not getting naked with you under the pretense of sharing body heat.”

No way in hell are you about to fall for one of his jokes again. They just leave you hanging in the end, looking desperate.

“Oh, c’mon; why not?” he says, voice so genuinely curious that it almost makes him sound innocent and free from any intent to scheme whatsoever. His fingers dig deeper into your hoodie as he adds, “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t already seen all your bits and pieces before.”

You push away from him so that you can face him instead, supporting yourself with the help of your palms. The inside of the tent is dark, so dark that you can barely see the outline of him, but you just know that he’s smiling; the little shit.

“Those bits and pieces, as you’ve so kindly called them, have changed a lot since we’ve last shared a kiddie pool, Ki,” you mumble, feeling heat growing up your neck and down your middle. It takes all the effort in the world to not let it slip to that tingly place between your legs, especially because there’s a calm rumble of a laugh thundering inside his chest, now.

“It’ll warm you up faster,” he pushes. “That’s all I want, I swear.”

“No thanks,” you refuse, fighting the urge to not shrivel up and simply die from embarrassment. “I’m perfectly content with waiting for your wolfy heat to reach me through the many, many layers of our clothes.”

“You sure?” he asks. “‘Cause it’s gonna be a long night.”

“Yep.”

“Absolutely sure?”

“Yes!” You squeeze his arm, digging your nails into his dark green hoodie as if in warning before you turn your back towards him again and shuffle closer. “Now shut up and go to sleep already.”

“‘Kay,” he relents at long last, sighing. “Suit yourself.”

“I sure plan to, thank you very much!”

“Aha.”

He’s uncharacteristically quiet as he settles back into the folds of your unzipped sleeping bags that you’ve overlapped just so that you can be conjoined together into a mess of limbs. And as a result, the silence to follow is so heavy. It succeeds in making you jittery as hell, as if the chill didn’t help with that already.

“Stop moving around so much, I’m tryin’ to sleep,” he fusses by the time it’s your third time switching positions and pushing further up against him. Unlike before, he sounds like he’s actually agitated now.

“I can’t help it if I’m cold,” you whine, rubbing your feet against his calves. 

The feeling of your socks gaining friction against his sweatpants is nice for you from the way it steadily creates warmth, however for Kiba it’s an annoyance that seemingly has no end.

It’s the reason as to why his tone comes across as an irked hiss when he says, “Yeah, well, that’s not my problem, now is it?” 

“But it is,” you reply, still running the soles of your feet up and down his legs. “You were the one who kept on saying that a hoodie would be just fine to wear.”

“No, I– Can you stop doing that already?!” He grunts, poking you in the side and causing you to jump. “You know damn well how much the whole feet thing pisses me off.”

“Well, wanna know what pisses me off?”

“What?”

“Being so cold that my teeth are practically chattering.”

“All right, that’s it.”

Your breathing staggers in the back of your throat as you watch him sit up so that he can start taking his hoodie off. He reaches for the back of it, strong back flexing as he pulls it over his head and throws it into one corner that’s to your left.

The white t-shirt he wears underneath gets tugged along, riding up his spine slightly. And goddammit, it’s hard not to ogle at him; hard not to leer at all the tight, defined lines of muscle paired with the contrasting smoothness of tan skin, at how his dark hair tickles the nape of his neck now that it’s all ruffled. 

But maybe if you’re sneaky with it, he won’t be able to tell? And besides, it’s pretty dark anyway and—

“Stop staring,” he says like he’s reading your mind. “There’s drool drippin’ at the corner of your mouth already.”

You gulp in response to being caught by his exceptional night vision. The sound is loud and embarrassing as it travels down your throat, at least that’s what you’re thinking. 

“I wasn’t— God, you’re so pretentious,” you manage to let out. “I’m just trying to figure out what you’re doing, you prick.”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting undressed,” he replies casually as he repeats the same set of movements and takes his T-shirt off as well. “And judging by how much you’re complaining about the cold, I suggest you do the same before you freeze to death.”

You bite into the inside of your cheek to stop your upper lip from trembling with stress. “I already told you that I’m not doing that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Something changes inside him at your denial. It makes him sound more tense as he says, “Can you please stop making a fuss for once and just do it?”

“No.”

“C’mon.”

“No, Kiba.”

“Fine, then freeze,” he quips, suddenly snappier than usual. His blood feels like it’s simmering. Wait, has it always been this hot in here?

Upset, cold and sticky, flashes throughout your chest at his seemingly careless words. “Okay, maybe I will.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

You glare at each other, fire and ice present in a single look.

“For fuck’s sake,” he says, trying to tame the persistent flutter of a muscle in his cheek that just won’t go away now. “Why do you gotta be so stubborn all the time? It’s like you’re actively searching for reasons to fight with me every chance you get.”

“That’s not true. You just don’t like it when I don’t comply with what you want,” you spit back, narrowing your eyes. “You’re the stubborn one.”

Another beat of silence passes between you and he uses it to inhale a deep breath and exhale it out just as slowly. It looks like he’s trying to calm himself, fighting every urge not to snap at you again.

“I’m just looking out for you,” he counters finally, his features unbearably tight. “I want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

“Oh, please.” You force out a laugh that doesn’t come from the heart. “As if you know what’s best for me.”

“And you do?” He looks at you, brows raised in challenge. “‘Cause how the hell is getting sick just because you’re too big of a pussy to take your shirt off the thing that’s best for you?”

Your toes start to curl with irritation under the layer of the sleeping bag you’re still tucked into. “I’d rather be a pussy any day, than an obsessively controlling alpha asshole who can’t take a no for an answer.” 

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from the control freak herself,” he says, nearly copying the same bitter laugh you’ve let out earlier. “You’re talking as if you don’t start acting batshit crazy whenever a single thing doesn’t go the way you imagined it to go.”

How on earth did this turn into an actual argument so out of the blue? Is he actually that irritated that you refuse to undress? Or is there something else to blame for all of this?

Either way, things are escalating fast.

Your face feels hot from all the mixed emotions you’re experiencing as you draw your blade and stick it into the place where you know it hurts him the most because he’s done the same to you, “I might be a control freak… You’re just a freak.” 

“You wanna talk to me about being a freak?” He laughs again, quieter this time but the sound is cold and sharp as ice. “‘Cause how can you call me that, if back when I met you, no one could even stand the sight of you!” 

He sucks in one breath, two, three before he continues, unable to stop, “No one could even talk to you. Do you remember that? Not until I stepped in, at least. So call me a freak all you want if it makes you feel any better, princess, but at the end of the day, I was still the one who put you out there while all you did was feel sorry for yourself.”

“You didn’t do shit!” The anger that drops upon your unsuspecting mind is like a thick, red fog. It makes your voice rise higher as you say, “All you’ve been doing for all these years, is breathing down my neck!”

“It’s not like I fucking chose to do that, goddammit!” Kiba snaps, voice suddenly gruff, heart pounding. His pulse feels like it’s racketing behind his teeth as he grits them so hard it makes his jaw hurt. “I mean, do you actually think that I want to spend the rest of my life wondering where the fuck you are and what you’re doing, when you can’t even put in the effort to text me back? Do you think that I want to keep being your friend, when you don’t even—”

“I didn’t ask you to!” You push forward, getting all up into his face as hurt sears the inside of your chest, making it heavy. “I didn’t ask you to be my friend, I didn’t ask you to keep trying to stay in touch, I didn’t ask you to keep monitoring me like some fucking psycho! I didn’t ask you to do any of those things.”

“You not asking for it is not the fucking issue, all right!” His face contorts into a look of prominent displeasure, the bridge of his nose scrunching. It’s clear how much you’re pissing him off; it’s making him say things he otherwise wouldn’t.

“Then tell me what the issue is!” You inhale, your own breathing quick and unfulfilling from how emotional you’re getting. It feels like you can’t suck enough air into your lungs no matter how hard you try. “Enlighten me, Kiba, please! Because quite frankly, I have no freaking clue what you’re going on about right now.”

“The issue,” he finally says, eyes bleary with fury and disdain, “is that I’m stuck with you. And guess what, you get to leave. I can’t. You get to fuck off to the other side of the goddamn country completely unfazed after every summer, and I can’t despite trying, because I’m feeling every mile of distance that separates me from you and it makes me fucking sick!” 

The words are like a waterfall to spill from his mouth, he can’t stop them. “You get to meet new people, you get to befriend them and sleep with them and love them, all while every. Single. One of my relationships falls apart because I’m stuck thinking about you, and only you. I mean Jesus fucking Christ, I’m thinking about you whenever I go to sleep, when I go to the gym, when I go to work… I was even thinking about you every time I fucked my girlfriend, who is now my ex, thanks to you!”

He ceases, breathing hard through his nose now, opening his mouth to say something, then thinking better of it.

Meanwhile, every single muscle in your body goes weak, almost numb. His stare is feverish and remains glued to your face; it makes you feel like you’ll drop dead any second now despite the fact that your stomach is doing cartwheels and high-pitched white noise progressively fills your ears. 

If there wasn’t a humongous lump jammed inside your throat, you’d perhaps be able to tell how dry your mouth has turned all of a sudden. 

But you don’t. So it’s no wonder why your voice cracks as you at long last look at your childhood best friend, the person you’ve always trusted the most, and ask, “So, you’re in love with me? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Hah,” he snorts, the sound completely unenthusiastic. “I wish it was that simple.” 

“Then what else is there?”

“I’m bonded to ya, sweetheart.” His stare hardens. “You’re my mate. Always have been, always will be. Congrats.”

Thump, thump, thump!

“Mate?” Your heart nearly breaks your ribcage in half from how intensely it starts to pound at the word. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means… It means that I’ve longed for you ever since the first day I saw you, okay? God.” He groans, running his hand down his cheek, then the side of his neck. His skin has become so slick with sweat that it causes his fingers to glide. “And it means that I’ll still long for you no matter what you do, or how far away you go, or who you end up with... You’re a part of me. And I can’t do shit about it.”

His words make your head swim. It’s hard to concentrate because of it, the rising nausea only making things worse, but you still manage enough willpower to ask, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t—...” He inhales a long breath again, only one this time. And pulls a face you can’t read. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured by it… Like you were obligated to be with me or something, just ‘cause I was having a bad time.”

“So instead you decided to be my friend for all these years? So that I could have my chance at freedom and you’d still have a reason to be near me?” Disappointment flashes throughout your brain like lightning. You feel played. “Does that mean that our entire friendship was, like… just some ploy to help you get closer to me or whatever?”

“Fuck no.” His shoulders slump as he practically succumbs to the weight of his own body. The world feels like it’s spinning all of a sudden. “The bond had nothing to do with that; well, maybe at the start, but definitely not afterwards. I was your friend because you were actually cool to hang out with, despite being kind of a dork. Even if you were my mate, you were still smart, and nice, and… and…”

And it’s only then, when you close the gap between yourself and him to catch him, that you realize how high his body temperature has gotten. How his skin feels like it’s blazing underneath the tips of your fingers when you press your hand to his chest on pure instinct. How the blush that tints his cheeks is stark red; intense enough to even reach the tips of his ears and the base of his neck.

His blood has always run hot, you know that. But never like this.

Never like this.

It’s even worse than back when he was ‘sick’.

“Shit… Are you feeling okay? You’re burning up all of a sudden. Like, even more than usual.” Your voice trembles on the words as you speak, low and worried. It’s like the entire argument is forgotten in a blink of an eye just because you’re sensing that something isn’t right with him.

“No.” Much to your surprise, Kiba gives you a hard smile when you look up into his face. It’s covered with a thick coat of sweat again even if he had wiped it away just minutes before. “I’m not okay.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think…” He pauses, letting out a pained sound that’s almost like a mix between a grunt and a whimper when you cup his face with your hands. “I think that I’m slipping into rut.”

“Rut?” You blink when he takes your hands into his own and hurriedly pries them away from his face, your eyelashes batting against your cheeks. The sudden rush of adrenaline that courses your veins when he starts to let you go makes you feel like you’re hollow inside.

So you cling onto his hands. If anything, they’re keeping you warm.

He breathes in again, every breath strained. “You need to stop touching me. It’s making it worse.”

Your brain feels like it’s turned to mush all of a sudden. All you can do is do as he says and whisper, “Oh. Y-yes, okay. Okay.”

“Fuck.” He scrubs his hand over his face for what must be the third time now, continuously wiping the liquid salt that just won’t stop oozing out of his pores. “Fuck. This is so fucked.”

Your eyes feel like they’re bulging from how concerned you are. His constant swearing isn’t helping the situation. “What is?”

“This whole night. Everything.” He looks away, clearly ashamed. Parts his lips so that he can breathe through his mouth instead of his nose, but it just makes him taste you on the flat of his tongue instead. Drool seeps as a result. “I wasn’t even supposed to go into rut for the next couple of weeks at least, maybe even a month from now... I think your scent might have triggered it.” 

After all, you’re sweet as summer honey. Honey made just for him.

And being this sweet, it’s no wonder that he’d subconsciously lured you out into the forest and away from other people under the pretense of catching up. No wonder that he had pinned you down with a single look in the middle of a grocery store as soon as you showed even the slightest hint of requited feelings. That he’d been getting impatient, had been getting jealous at the mention of other partners, had even nearly tried manipulating you into getting naked with him — something he’d never thought he’d sink so low to, for fuck’s sake.

All while the rut just stacked one symptom on top of the other.

This entire trip, every single one of his actions, every word, every look had been mere preying. Mere circling whilst getting ready to go in for the kill. After all, you’ve been gone for years, leaving him stranded. Catching a mere whiff of your scent — of his mate’s scent — after such a long time had been like an awakening for the beast within; a push for it to take over.

And that beast is ready to come out now. It’ll claw a way out of him if need be. He didn’t even realize it until now. 

Utterly blinded by instinct, he’d been played for a fool by his own psyche.

“Kiba?” you whisper his name cautiously, pupils still big as saucers as you repeat, “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” He exhales shakily, ignoring your question. “I-I need to get away from you before I—”

“What? You can’t leave me here! What the fuck,” you stammer out, eyes opening even wider in the dark. Ignoring his warnings, you clutch onto him again because he’s simply your only pillar right now. Rut or no rut. Whatever that means.

“Well, I can’t stay here,” he snaps in answer and now you can hear the mumble appearing between each word. His already humanly-questionable incisors are growing elongated now, turning into fangs and changing his pattern of speech. “You have no fucking idea how aggressive I get if I don’t get what I want during a rut; what you saw earlier wasn’t even the half of it. And I can’t... I won’t let you see me like that. I don’t want you to think—”

“I won’t think anything of you, I promise! Just… just please don’t leave me here. Please,” you quickly blabber out even if you’re not sure who the words are meant for; you or him. “Just tell me what you need.”

“No way.” He’s practically panting, every breath still continuing to be laboured as he says, “You’re not gonna like it.”

“Just say it.”

“It’s so fucking embarrassing, though.”

“Goddammit, spit it out already!”

“I—” He falters, huffing, only stressing you out further until he finally says, “I need to cum.”

The white noise that had just eased a bit inside your ears immediately gets replaced by the deafening ringing of your pulse. Did you just hear that right? 

“H-Huh?” is all you can let out as a result.

“I need to cum to make the rut ease up,” he explains impatiently, voice breathless, hoarse. He looks at you, the vein in his neck bulging as his jaw clicks into place again. “Fucking hell… M’sorry, I’m so sorry… for everything. You don’t gotta do anything if you don’t wanna, I’d never force you but— fuck, it’s so fucking hot in here. I can’t breathe.”

The moment you see him start losing his composure again is the moment that you spring into action.

“Here, let’s just… take it easy for a bit.” You blink profusely, trying to gain control of the situation as you ease him onto the pile of sleeping bags. “Breathe in nice and slow, yeah?”

“No,” he grunts out, tensing again in an instant. “That makes it worse.”

“Oh, right. Right. Sorry.” 

Moments pass, all of them feeling like ages even if it’s only a second or two, perhaps three. You spend them all by watching him like a shark in water, not sounding quite like yourself as you force yourself to step out of your comfort zone for once and utter, “Let me help you.”

“What?”

“Let me help you with the whole… uh.” Your rare, spontaneous decision makes your head want to hurt from all the anxiety it’s causing. “Cumming part, I mean.”

“No.” His cheeks glow red as he swallows hard. “You seriously don’t gotta. Like I said, I’d never—”

“I know,” you cut in, giving him a look of what you hope looks like determination instead of pure anxiety. “I know you wouldn’t. Besides, there’s no need for that because I want to, okay?”

Kiba frowns, looking the most exasperated you’ve ever seen him be. It makes his voice unusually quiet and small as he whispers, “Why would you?”

“Want that?”

“Yes.”

“I want to because you’re my friend,” you say and it’s the truth. “And I don’t care what it is that we gotta do to make you feel all right again, I’ll always help you out because of that, okay?”

“But I’m a shitty friend. I don’t deserve you helping me out; I don’t deserve you,” he counters. “I mean, for fuck’s sake… Look at the shitshow that I dragged you into just now.”

“You made it sound like you didn’t know this would happen, though,” you argue back, growing more backbone with your tone. “Did I understand that right?”

His teeth sink into the inside of his cheek, instantly drawing blood from how sharper they are than they used to be. He hisses, licking the now aching spot, tasting iron. “Yes.”

“Okay, then let me help you,” you try again, unrecognized greed and the bond you can’t feel not as nearly as deep as him pushing you forward hand in hand. “Yeah?”

Kiba looks at you for a long while. His eyes have gotten so dark that they look like they could absorb you whole when he finally opens his mouth to say, “Yeah.” His eyelids flutter shut for a brief second as he shakes his head, as if chasing the doubt away. “Yeah, all right.”

With his approval acquired, the couple of seconds to follow are like a blur. You don’t know where the sudden burst of confidence comes from as you coax him to lay on his back, but you’re happy it’s there because it keeps your hands somewhat from shaking.

“Come to think of it, maybe we shouldn’t—” He stiffens, the words catching in his throat from the way his cock automatically starts to twitch in his sweats because of the way your unsure touch travels down his stomach, now.

His dark happy trail tickles the tips of your fingers, caramel skin still so hot that you’re surprised he’s still conscious and capable of forming thoughts. 

“It’s okay, shh,” you soothe him even if your heart feels like it’s climbed up your throat again when he immediately pushes himself up with the help of his elbows so that he can look at you. You’re both trying so hard to not stare at the obvious tent in his pants. “I’ll, um… I-I’ll take care of it, okay?”

Your best friend’s chest heaves with every fast breath. All he can do is nod, the discomfort obvious as he says, “Okay.”

God, he sounds so uncomfortable but desperate for it at the same time. You force yourself not to look at him as you kneel beside him, feeling sweat gathering on the nape of your neck. Just a little while ago you were cold. Now, you’re burning up from how quickly he’s warming up the small space.

“Will, like, a handjob be enough…?” This entire thing is insane. Surreal.

You’ve gone from zero to a hundred just because he’ll go off the rails otherwise.

“I, uh, I think so?” His fingers curl, fisting the smooth material of the sleeping bag. He clutches it so tightly that it makes his knuckles turn white as he adds, “I mean, that’s what I do when I’m alone.”

“You jerk off during a rut?” The image of him stroking himself makes your stomach tighten and your throat turn scratchy.

“So many times. Ugh.” Heat spreads throughout your body at the groan he lets out, but it also warms his face into an even deeper shade of red. Talking about these things might be embarrassing right now, but it eases the tension. So he continues, “Sometimes I even have to take a couple days off work just so I can keep fuckin’ my fist, hah.”

The look on your face makes him inhale a sharp breath through gritted teeth.

“Too much?” he asks, that same look of dread overtaking his features once more.

“No, no,” you reply hurriedly, running two now-trembling fingers along the waistband of his sweatpants. The way his toned stomach trembles in response turns your mouth painfully dry all over again. “I just… I thought you’d rather venture out to find somebody to sleep with during a time like that. So that you can, you know… make it pass quicker or something.”

“Oh. Well, I did try to do that. But it didn’t go so well,” he answers, staring at every movement your hand makes with heavy eyelids. “Here, lemme… help you out ‘cause we gotta speed things up a bit. I’m so sorry… God.”

Your breath hitches when his too-warm hand cups your smaller one and wraps it around the prominent bulge in his sweatpants without any sort of hesitance, but with palpable urgency instead. 

He curls your fingers around the ridge of his clothed cock until you can feel out the shape of it. And then he stills completely, giving you time to pull back if you change your mind about the entire thing despite that every cell of him wants to roar.

But you never do. 

No, instead all you do is succumb to the moment and start to stroke him the way he’s shown you — slowly at first.

“Fuck, okay… That’s it,” he whispers, broad shoulders tensing at the touch. His fingers twitch, tightening their grip on the sleeping bag.

The praise is like a flame and it licks your skin. Feeling how big he is getting under the cotton now, how fucking huge he’s growing, makes your saliva thick and your voice wobbly as you whisper, “Like that?”

“Mhmm, yeah.” He sighs before yet another curse spills past his parted lips. There’s drool gathering on the surface of his sharp fangs by the time he urges you on. When he swallows it, it’s audible. 

Somehow, it succeeds in making you feel better, more relaxed. The fact that he’s just as nervous as you are helps. 

So you let your lips quirk upwards briefly as you say, “Now you’re the one that’s got drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, huh?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” He huffs a laugh. “This whole thing is pretty new to me. Makes my body act all sorts of weird.”

You blink. “A handjob is new to you?”

He shakes his head, looking down at his lap with a blush so prominent that it makes his entire face tingle. “No, I meant like a mate’s touch.”

“Oh.” You offer him a nervous smile, readjusting yourself on your legs. “Well, um… enjoy it while it lasts, hah?”

Kiba doesn’t say anything in answer. Neither do you. Maybe he’s afraid of what this will mean for your friendship afterwards. Maybe you both are. But with each passing minute, you slowly ease yourself into your sinful ministrations. Your strokes turn less rigid, the hesitance replaced with cautious intent, but intent nevertheless.

The waistband of his sweatpants gradually slips lower and lower down his hips as you keep going. A glob of your saliva gets involved; transferring from your pursed lips, to your palm, to his cock that has finally been freed from the too-tight confines of his clothes and is now being spoiled by skin on skin contact.

Even if Kiba remains in his — mostly — human form, you soon learn that werewolf cock is vastly different from a human one. In the dark, you can’t see it quite well, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t feel the difference. 

It’s bigger, harder, hotter to the touch than any you’ve previously had. It throbs and practically leaks pre-cum, nearly making you think that you didn’t even have to spit into your palm in the first place. In fact, it’s so lubed up that there are wet, almost squishy noises by the time his hips start to buck upwards and he starts fucking your fist.

You’re hovering over him, your face merely inches away from his own from how close you’ve gotten during the entire ordeal. If you thought he was panting before, now he’s nearly hyperventilating as he rasps, “F-fuck, mm… faster. Go faster, bunny. It feels s’good.”

His voice has turned into a growl of some kind; it’s the lewdest you’ve ever heard him speak. Because even with all the dirty jokes, and the questionable looks, and the sometimes too-long hugs which you’ve exchanged throughout the years, Kiba has always, always been respectful of your boundaries and limits.

But he really pushes that limit, really steps on that already thin line when he suddenly rests his forehead against your own and asks, “Are you gonna let me kiss you?”

Your thoughts turn fuzzy in an instant at the request, as well as at the nearly non-existent proximity. This isn’t about helping him out anymore, this is about feelings. Feelings that you’re very much still trying to understand. 

And feelings are dangerous, when you know that being friends is best for you. After all, you’re so different from each other — polar opposites. But you feel the invisible link that connects you to him now a bit better than you did before, feel it tugging you towards him; closer and closer, even if you’re merely human. Every touch makes it stronger and alters your brain chemistry, alters the way you see him.

It feels like you’re gradually starting to share every breath, like your heartbeats are aligning and will keep on aligning all until they’ll start to beat as one. Like you’re fusing together; he’s becoming you at the same time you’re becoming him.

You have no clue how he’s managed to endure all of this for such a long time, surely feeling it at least ten times stronger than you do. And in a way, it’s scary. All these emotions are making you feel overwhelmed and the worst part is that they’re not nearly as deep yet as his are.

You stare at him. He stares right back with dark eyes full of what you think is good intention. 

Your lips quiver as you whisper, “Do you think kissing is a good idea?”

“It’s just a couple of kisses, bunny,” he answers way too fast, quietly whimpering when your thumb swipes over his sensitive cockhead, turning tacky because of the bead of pre-cum there. He’s so needy that he feels like it’s going to kill him. The rut has outright cooked his brain by now, and that makes him pushy — he’s warned you about it. “It’s not like it’s gonna change anything between us.”

You look at him again, still sceptic. Your grip around his cock tightens as you think. “I dunno...”

“C’mon. Please, please, please,” he urges, feeling even more hot and bothered and desperate at how godly it feels when you stroke his cock. Up and down, up and down, up and down — he’s going to go batshit crazy. “Didn’t you tell me that you were gonna be a bit more spontaneous tonight? Hmm?”

You stare at him from underneath your lashes, feeling just a little less doubtful from how he pleads for it. Despite being perplexed about the entire situation, his uncharacteristic rambling and babbling and the constant need to challenge you proves to be like a push forward that you need in order to press your lips against his own.

So you gather your courage and lean in. And of course, he meets you halfway in an instant — even faster than that. 

The kiss itself is messy when you connect. It’s more so a clash of teeth and swapping of runny saliva, than it is a loving peck. He craves for you so bad that before you can even take a breath in, he’s nudging your bottom lip with his tongue, trying to make you part your lips a fraction wider; to part just enough for him to slip his tongue inside.

You let out a little ‘mmph!’ sound at how intense he is with it and how he cups one side of your face with his hand, literally forcing you to open up for him by pressing his thumb underneath your jaw.

“Hey—”

And it’s the opening he’s been looking for. He pushes his tongue inside, gliding it over your front teeth, tasting the roof of your mouth, exploring it like he’ll never get another chance to do so again — perhaps he won’t, who knows? 

So he hits you like a tidal wave and kisses you like he’s planning to eat you — it’s riveting as much as it is intimidating. Spit gets swapped with each sloppy kiss that gets shared between you now, some of it bridging the small gap between your mouths whenever you push him back just enough to come back for air. His large canine teeth bump against your own normal-sized ones. The occasional click! is enough to make your blood run hot.

And surprisingly, in the midst of all this chaos, you realize that kissing him feels right. It’s by no means romantic or a profession of love, but it is natural and synchronized in its own peculiar way. Somehow, it even makes sense. Like parts are connecting, like the image is getting clearer, like puzzle pieces are falling into place.

All those feelings that you’ve shoved down and blinded yourself from for literal years are rushing to the surface now. You feel like you’re going to burst.

In a way, Kiba feels the same.

“I, ah… I think m’gonna cum soon... Kissing you feels so hot.” He groans when he feels you falter, body tensing at how low his voice has gotten. His cock is nearly pulsating in your palm by now and he has to remind you to continue by helping you out with his own hand. “Fuck, keep goin’, keep goin’. Don’t stop now; I didn’t tell ya to stop, did I?”

Flustered and incredibly overwhelmed by everything that is happening, you do as he says because following orders — even frantic, growly ones — is familiar and comforting as a result. 

You let him sloppily fuck your fist as you tighten the hold of your fingers and loosen your wrist so that he can get what he needs to bring himself to his finish. All while he’s practically shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you with such a burning passion that it feels like you’ll be engulfed in flames and turned into ashes any second now.

Heat steadily builds up within Kiba’s stomach. Sweat pours out of every pore all over again, making his hair stick to his forehead. His toes curl, his balls tighten. His throat gets all scratchy and dry. His brow furrows so deeply that it gives him a headache as he squeezes his eyes shut and just feels.

“Yeah… Just a lil’— fuck, yes, yes…!”

You go faster. And when he finally does tip over the edge and cums, it’s insane. 

His movements spasm, broad shoulders tense up to the point of pain. And then he’s literally growling into your mouth; making your lips and the inside of your throat vibrate as he becomes undone.

Your heart stutters at the sound. And when you feel his warm, sticky seed steadily fill your hand, it begins to dance inside your chest.

After all, there’s a literal fuckload of it, perhaps even more. His release dribbles past your knuckles and soils his sweatpants. It gushes out of him, ropes of it, all tacky and cloudy white and potent. You’ve never seen a man produce so much cum, especially not because of you. 

The sight, no, the feel of it makes you rub your thighs together as you squeeze every last droplet out of him. Before you know it, there’s a tingly sensation growing in intensity between your legs. A certain kind of heat pooling at the apex of your thighs, a certain kind of stickiness that causes your underwear to cling to your most private part.

Unsure of the reason as to why his pleasure affects you so strongly, the presence of your sudden arousal takes you by surprise and thus only makes you even more nervous as your core temperature scales higher, higher, higher.

You flinch when he kisses the corner of your swollen, kiss-bruised lips. Your cheek. Your neck. And it’s in that spot, where the curve of your shoulder starts, that he finally rests his sweat-riddled forehead and croaks out a very exhausted and very grateful, “Thank you.”

Kiba sags before you can reply, resting a great part of his weight against you and nearly making you stumble backwards because of it. Despite all of the confusion that riddles your mind at that moment, you can’t help but simply hold your best friend upright, repeatedly weaving your clean fingers through his now-damp hair in meek attempt of soothing him.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying to ignore the way your stomach feels like it’s doing flips. Who knew you had such an effect on him? Or he on you? “You’re okay. I-I mean, you’re messy, but you’re okay.”

Long moments pass. It’s hard to tell in the dark how much time has passed exactly when your phone is nowhere to be seen, but judging by how your fingers are still tacky with his now mostly dried up release, it must have been a couple of minutes at least.

“God, I didn’t think there'd be so much cum, heh... My bad,” he grunts at some point, pulling you out of your thoughts with the way he rubs the sweat on his forehead into your hoodie. Before you can scold him for it, he’s already back to burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and trying to tame his breaths. 

His exhales are warm and ticklish. They make you snicker as you try to push away from him, hiding the sensitive spot with the help of your chin. “What’re you doing?”

“Sniffin’ you,” he answers with a matter-of-fact tone, as if it’s the most normal thing for a person to do.

“Well, stop it! I already told you that it’s weird back at the store.”

“Ahh, but you smell so good.”

Another smile kicks the corners of your lips upward. You’ve always liked the little compliments he gives you. This time it’s no different. “Do I, now?”

“Mhmm,” he nearly purrs, nuzzling his nose even further into your neck until he’s got it practically smushed against your pulse point, causing it to wrinkle slightly at the bridge. “It’s sweeter than usual though, your scent. How are you feelin’?”

Ba-dum.

“Oh, you know,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. Can he tell what you’re experiencing? “A bit overwhelmed by everything that’s happened just now, but I’m fine otherwise... I think.”

A little moment of silence ensues. You’re just about to tease him and ask if he’s done interrogating you when he rasps, “You’re sure? ‘Cause I can definitely smell something other than ‘fine’ and ‘overwhelmed’.”

He sounds different again. More gruff. More tense. More demanding of an answer. 

It makes you feel cornered all of a sudden.

Before you can move, he pulls back just enough to press the side of his face against your own as he waits for your answer; perhaps giving you the comfort of avoiding eye contact, perhaps just to feel more physical touch — you don’t know. 

So, you’re cheek to cheek, now. Chest to chest. Muscle to muscle. The distance between you is nearly non-existent as you each stare at opposite corners of the tent. 

His stubble scrapes your face. Wasn’t he clean-shaven just this morning? 

Your breath warms his shoulder as he utters, “Well?”

“Yeah,” you answer as the slight prickle in your cheek yanks you back from the haze that is your thought process. Your voice is once again as wobbly as your legs are getting. It’s hard to concentrate when he’s so close. “I’m sure.”

“‘Kay,” he trails off, still not convinced. “How ‘bout…” 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Kiba leans down to press his lips to your neck again and leaves another tender kiss there, sending shivers down your spine. “Now?”

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum!

You’re quiet, but your fingers tangle into his dark hair as you latch onto him for support in a mere instant, even you’re surprised by it. The way you can feel his sharp canines grazing your throat is exhilarating. Brain working purely on autopilot, you tug at the roots at the back of his head the same moment as your eyelids flutter shut. You simply can’t help yourself.

Perhaps this bond that he’s been telling you about isn’t something only he can experience, after all.

“And now…?” he utters so softly that you can barely hear him over the sound of your quickening pulse. His hand glides from between your shoulder blades, down to the small of your back and goddammit, his palm is so broad; it’s almost comical how big of a portion of you it manages to cover. “How do you feel now?” 

“Good. I feel… good,” is all you can answer with this time. Your voice sounds so small as his touch travels over the curve of your ass and rounds the corner by landing on the front of your thigh instead. 

You don’t fail to notice the way his calloused fingertips start to glide upwards now that they’re on your leg. The claws, that must have replaced his nails at some point when you weren’t paying that much attention, drag against the stretchy material of your leggings; playful, taunting. 

It’s all so slow. Deliberate.

The sudden burst of adrenaline that rushes through your veins and nestles deep inside your belly makes you fidgety, but he keeps you nice and steady by holding the side of your head with his other hand. 

Those claws are at your inner thigh now, only inching higher.

Higher, higher, higher.

And his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers a what you could only call an exceptionally needy, “Yeah?”

“Yea-ah!” A little gasp that’s more of a moan than anything else slips out from the way he unexpectedly cups your clothed pussy into the palm of his hand.

“Scent doesn’t lie, bunny,” he says, chuckling darkly. “You should keep that in mind when you’re around someone like me, y’know.”

Shit. You’re in for it now, aren’t you? His touch is scorching hot again even through the two layers of clothes that separates you from him.

It only spurs you into action, almost making you start to grind against him as you arch your back and press yourself closer.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum! 

Your heart feels like it’s on the verge of giving out.

“We should stop, K-Ki—” You don’t succeed in saying his name fully when he applies more pressure to make you reconsider. 

The heel of his palm presses right against your clit this time. Breathless and unsure if it’s done on purpose or merely by some lucky accident, you jolt, trying to squeeze your thighs together.

He catches you when you sag against him, much like you’ve previously done when he had been the one struggling to stay upright. And surprise, surprise — he’s hard all over again. Ready to go for round two, his cock starts poking your thigh whenever you move, leaving little splotches of sticky pre-cum there. 

It causes a second heatwave to hit you as filthy thoughts begin flooding your mind. Pussy dripping at the mere idea of him attempting to push that fat, monstrous cock inside you, you let out a little sound of panic when he presses his finger right on the spot where your tight little hole is hiding under the leggings.

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” You can’t see it, but he smirks into the dark; fangs glinting with the wolfish grin that’s gotten so conceited that it hurts. “Look at that… Lil’ bunny is getting all worked up from a bit of heavy petting.”

“Am not!” you stammer with feverish need, licking your lips as your nails dig into his scalp and you grab yet another fistful of his chestnut-coloured hair. “Stop teasing me… I-I’m just— Ugh…”

“I’ll stop if you let me take your clothes off already so that I can lick you and fuck you like you obviously wanna be fucked,” he says, rubbing tight little circles right into that little button that makes you feel like there is electricity running through your veins, not blood. “How does that sound? Or are you just gonna keep grindin’ that little pussy of yours into my hand for the rest of the night?”

Before you can answer, he slides up and down your slit, making your cunt eat up your underwear and leggings, shaping it out. Your knees buckle as you rest all of your weight against him, trusting him that he’ll hold you upright.

But the problem is that he doesn’t. Instead, Kiba uses the hand that he’s holding the side of your head with to help lay you down. 

Until you’re right underneath him.

And just like that, he’s on top of you, breathing in your scent with almost a sense of urgency whilst his hand still keeps on rubbing that overwhelmingly sensitive spot between your legs. Keeps on provoking it and keeps on making you so horny that you’re barely any better than a cat in heat.

With every stroke, he’s making you hot and bothered all over again. Making you buck your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Making you sweat and whine and borderline sniffle as the upcoming tears of pent-up sexual frustration sting your waterline.

You’re about to go batshit crazy if he doesn’t do something other than pet you.

So it’s no wonder that you whimper and allow him to undress you one piece of clothing at a time, until you’ve got nothing else on but your colourful socks and your plain cotton panties are dangling from one ankle. That you let him kiss you down your neck and chest, until he’s nosing his way between your legs and licking you with that inhumanly coarse tongue to his heart’s content.

That you let him feast upon you like a man starved even if he is more monster than man; until your legs are trembling around his head and you’re seeing stars behind closed eyelids. That you let him devour your sweetness and inhale such deep, long breaths of its scent, despite that you’re feeling slightly embarrassed about it after telling him that you’re all ‘sweaty and gross’ down there after the hike, and he’s assured you at least a million times that he likes it even better that way.

And it’s no wonder that you let him spit onto your pussy as he kisses up your thigh and hovers above you, then, before he bends your legs so far back that your knees are nearly touching your ears. That you let him fold you into a mating press and align his cock with your sticky cunt at long last, his fat cockhead prodding at your tight hole that just won’t stop fluttering at even the slightest intrusion.

“Imma pound you s’good. Gonna make you cream on my cock, gonna do all of that nasty shit that I wanted to do to ya for s’long,” he babbles, his stare so ardent that it pierces right through your heart even if he’s not focused at all. The second wave of his rut has already contaminated all his thoughts and consumed him entirely. All he can think about is slamming you to your breaking point.

“Kiba, wa—…. wait,” you mewl, eyes wide open as you stare up at him. With his back hunched and his biceps flexing, every muscle and cord strained to withhold his weight, he’s gotten so big that he can barely fit inside the tent anymore. 

How in the hell is he gonna fit inside you?

“Please, I need it. Need it so, so, so bad, fuck,” he drawls almost like he isn’t completely present, his expression all dazed and stupid from how he keeps on staring between your legs. He nudges you again as he says the words, his cockhead catching against your sticky entrance once more, making you squirm. “Your cunt smells so fuckin’ sweet; it’s driving me nuts... I gotta push inside you, bunny, okay? Imma push in.”

You tremble in response, hips wiggling, legs opening a fraction wider to give him even more space because of how persistent he’s getting. When you look up at him through hooded eyelids, all you can see is how his slits for pupils dilate at the sight of the silvery string of arousal that clings to his cock now, connecting him to your cunt.

Your pussy is so wet — it’s practically drooling.

Consequently, it makes him drool, too. Saliva nearly drips down Kiba’s canines all over again.

“Just the tip, okay?” you whisper, trying to calm your heavy-pounding heart.

“Jus’ the tip, yeah,” he murmurs back with that fang-induced mumble, still so pussy drunk that he’s nearly brain-dead. His irises have turned yellow; they glow in the dark as he looks at you and says, “Jus’ the tip and nothin’ else.”

You stare at him with big, watery eyes. “You promise?”

Kiba huffs a laugh despite the fact that he looks like he’s barely keeping himself together. “‘Course I do, sweetheart.” 

Hearing him promise, you nod, and thus give him the approval that he’s been practically dying to get. “All right… But go slowly, okay? ‘Cause I’m scared.” 

“Slow, gotcha. Gonna go so slow that it won’t hurt one bit.” 

With a heartbeat that’s damn well working overtime by now, Kiba softly grunts when he finally presses into you, causing you to instantly flinch and wiggle your hips for a second time to try and accommodate him better.

“Keep still, will ya?” he chides, his patience leaving him for a quick second. “You’re twitchin’ all over the place like you’re an actual rabbit.”

“I’m trying! And shut it.” He keeps on pushing at your fussing, turning your voice higher in pitch as you say, “Shit, shit, shit… I said slowly!”

He grits his teeth, eyebrows drawing together in concentration that he doesn’t have. “This is slow.”

“Well, I-I think that you’re going way too fast.”

“Stop naggin’ me already and relax.”

“Excuse me?!”

Your mouth opens, but before you can even begin unleashing the storm that is your newly-formed fury, he leans down to press his lips against your own like the little shit he is.

Moments pass, he keeps kissing you as a means to distract you from the fact that he’s slowly filling you with his cock. And eventually, with some sweet-talking and plenty of combined effort, your pussy gives in when he adds just a little bit of force to the push, letting him break past that tight ring of muscle that your nerves must be causing.

You’re so tight that it makes the hair on the nape of his neck stand to attention when he finally slips inside, but you’re also so sloppy and dripping wet at the same time that he isn’t worried about it too much.

After all, from the way you push your head back now, pointing your chin upwards and exposing more of your neck that he feels the need to wrap his hand around and stroke it with the help of his thumb, you seem to be enjoying yourself just fine.

Nevertheless, concern — that he feels for you at all times — crosses his tight features. He’s barely holding it together, and here he is; looking out for you as he asks, “You doin’ okay?”

“Mhmm, yeah,” you utter, tensing when his touch moves from your neck down to your tits. 

He quirks a brow as he squeezes the fat of your breast and runs his thumb across your nipple this time, making you shudder. “But?”

You give him a pointed look. How can he always tell that there’s something hiding behind the reassurance? “But, you’re just so… big. Concerningly so. I’m worried about how I’m gonna take it all.”

He muses as he mocks the sound of your voice and says, “What happened to ‘just the tip, okay’?”

You huff, pouting. “Don’t make me keep it that way, you prick.”

“Okay, okay, m’sorry,” he says hurriedly, pressing what must be the hundredth kiss onto your lips. “I’ll be good, just don’t make me pull out, please.”

“What about you? Are you doing okay?” you ask, caressing his cheek with your palm. The way he instantly leans further into your touch makes your heart not only dance, but also sing. “I know this must be especially hard for you.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles lamely, convincing neither of you. And then he sighs at the way you roll your eyes at him in answer. “I just… I want—”

“More?” you suggest.

A prominent blush sears his cheeks. Since when did he blush so much? He’s also sweating like crazy all over again as he says, “Yeah.”

“All right.” Carefully, you nod your head yes once more as you remind him, “I’ll give you more. But slowly, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. How he doesn’t puncture the rosy skin with the action, you don’t understand. “I’ll go nice n’ easy on ya. Cross my heart.”

Well, he’ll try at least.

And Kiba does try to go nice and easy, he really does. But it’s hard for him to keep his cool when the beast keeps on howling in his veins and the bond that chains him to you screams at him to brand every last inch of your skin and soul alike.

He’s nearly trembling all over by the time he sinks balls deep into you and his dark pubic hair kisses your clit.

But at long last, you’ve become one.

“Fuck.”

“That feels so—”

“Good. That feels so fuckin’ good, goddamn.”

“I-I’m so… full.”

“You’re welcome.”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

“What d’you think?” 

“I think—”

“Woah, look, I’m even makin’ your belly bulge a bit.”

“Ew, ew, ew! That’s so gross.”

“What? No, it ain’t. I actually think it’s kind of cool-lookin’.”

“Stop poking it!”

“Nu-uh.”

Your ankles cross at the middle of his back when he presses his hand to your tummy, colourful socks scraping tan skin. The way you clench around him when he digs his fingers into the bulge makes Kiba wish he had the ability to purr.

“Move,” you squeak out, breath hitching at how the tip of his cock has managed to snuggle right next to your goddamn cervix. “Need you to… move. It’s too much! Kiba, please.”

He tries not to show how happy he is to do as you tell him, but fails with the way his entire face literally lights up as he says, “Like this?”

“Yeah,” you answer quickly, savoring every last bit of friction he gives you now. The rhythm he’s chosen is surprisingly laggard, even if he looks like he’s just about to start bursting at the seams. “Y-yeah, like that.”

Kiba likes the way you sound when you’ve got something fucking into you at a steady pace, but it’s even better that that something is him. Now that he thinks about it, the tone is pretty similar to the one you used to have after every gym class back in high school.

God, did he like seeing those tight shorts on you every Wednesday. Good memories.

A proper moan — the first amongst many — suddenly leaves your mouth, coaxing him away from his trip down memory lane and urging him to make you keep talking, talking, talking as he asks, “You need me just as much as I need you, don’tcha?”

“Pfsh. I never said… that,” you drawl with a click of a tongue as your breathing picks up. Every time he draws his hips back and pushes them back into you feels like he’s reshaping your entire goddamn cunt. Not an unpleasant sensation necessarily, but it definitely takes some time getting used to. 

“‘Kay, but listen to all this noise you’re making now that I’ve stuffed your lil’ bunny cunt full,” he says, his eyes glowing with mischief and that sublime yellow colour. “Bet no other man could make you sound like that, huh?”

They’re lazy but deep, the thrusts. Filled with intent. With arrogance and urgency that hides just beneath the surface, waiting to pounce. They reach parts of you that you’ve never even thought could be touched. They make slick dribble down his balls, until it’s all dripping right onto the sleeping bags you’re fucking on top of.

It’s all so audible and loud. Messy. The occasional sound of skin slapping against skin. The wet squelching noises between you. The constant whimpering and his growling grunts, steadily growing in volume.

And you’re going slow.

“Yeah, well that’s ‘cause you’re no man, you dummy,” you bite back when you’re more familiar and comfortable with each other and the connection, trying to be witty even if it’s hard to keep your mind from breaking into shambles.

“Is that so?” He’s breathing hard, picking up his pace, going harder. “Then what am I?”

A dazed smile curls your lips. “You’re a dirty, dirty dog.”

Kiba could agree with that statement to some degree, perhaps. Even if he dislikes the particular term you’ve used.

After all, you have no idea how he’s gotten himself off with a pair of panties that he’d swiped from your drawer and wrapped around his fist back in senior year. Or how he’d turned embarrassingly hard after almost every hug and had to play it cool even if he was sweating bullets from trying to hide the raging boner in his pants. Or how he’s fantasized and fantasized and fantasized; only watching porn with actresses that shared similarities with you because nothing else seemed to work.

You don’t have a clue about any of that.

And he hopes it stays that way.

“Hah.” An almost mean snicker leaves his lips as he unexpectedly slams into you, making you squeal out a particularly nasty curse and causing your pussy to outright gush at the intrusion. “Careful, sweetheart. If you keep on saying things like that, I’ll be more than happy to treat ya like the dirty dog you say I am.”

“Will you, though?” you challenge playfully, stroking down his back with the heel of your foot.

He sneers as he answers, “I will if you keep on testin’ me.”

“But I thought you said that you’re bonded to me?” 

“Yeah,” he says. “So?”

“So, doesn’t that mean that you can’t hurt me?”

He blinks, surprised. “Who said anything ‘bout hurting you…? I’d just mount you.”

Your expression copies his own. “Mount… me?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, temperature suddenly flaring up at the thought. “You know… the same way animals fuck.”

Heat creeps up your neck at the crude way he explains it. “Oh.”

Kiba’s lips quirk upwards when he catches a whiff of the subtle change in your scent. You’re flustered at the idea, smelling even sweeter now that there are no clothes to buffer the prominent notes of arousal. “I take it that you wanna try it?”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. A wave of sweat washes over you, toes curling. “What— No!”

“Oh, c’mon,” he pushes gently, helping you out. “Scent doesn’t lie, remember? You’ll like it, I promise.” 

“And if I don’t?” you ask.

He nudges your chin with the tip of his nose. “If you don’t, we’ll stop. Simple as that.”

“Okay, but can you stop?” You angle your head so that he can press a kiss to your cheek. “When you’re like this… under the influence of a rut. Can you stop?”

Silence hangs in the air as he pulls away to look at you, his expression suddenly somber despite the glaze of unbridled lust that still coats his unnatural eyes. 

“I’d never hurt you,” he finally says. “I’d rather die than hurt my mate, that’s why I was ready to leave before.”

Kiba’s voice is stone cold serious. The intensity he chooses to speak with so that he can get his point across causes butterflies to spring free inside your belly.

You can still feel them fluttering around by the time his clawed hands manhandle you into the position he wants. Laying on your stomach now, you let out a little noise of surprise when his weight presses you further down into the silky nylon of the sleeping bags the moment he tops you.

He’s heavy, taking the profound size difference into account, but you’re pleased to find out that it’s the kind of weight that comforts you instead of suffocating you. You feel warm. Safe.

“Can I…?” he trails off.

His exhale tickles the back of your neck, making the hairs there rise to attention as you shiver and say, “Well, that’s what I’m here for, aren’t I?”

“Oh, sorry, my bad,” he says. “I thought you were here for the s’mores.”

“Not funny— oh.”

Your back arches and your anger dissipates into nothing as soon as he begins to push inside you again, careful not to stuff you full too fast. After all, while it might be easier to fit him inside you this time thanks to your earlier endeavours, it still remains to be no small task.

He’s as careful and considerate as he’s able to be in the state that he’s in. He pushes gently, but pushes nonetheless. By the time he sinks into you to the hilt and pauses to give you a minute, you’re both panting like you’ve just ran a marathon.

“You doin’ okay, bunny?” he rasps, voice so low and growly that it really does make you think you’re getting fucked by an animal. Or a beast, if you’d have to specify it.

“Yep, mhmm…!” You squeak out, your voice so high-pitched that it must surely hurt or at least agitate his ultra-sensitive hearing. You’re happy that he can’t see the fucked out expression that sits on your face right now. “Doing a-okay.”

“Don’t try to run away, now,” he teases when you wiggle your hips, trying to readjust yourself. “Or else the hunting instinct is gonna kick in.”

“Not to worry,” you practically chirp, feeling your body slipping into a fever at the way his big, calloused palm presses into the small of your back. “I’m staying put.”

He chuckles at how submissive he’s made you sound, at how there’s a prominent sheen of sweat gathering on your spine. Gliding his finger down your dewy skin, Kiba catches himself wishing to lick you clean of salt, but at the same time he just knows that you’d cause a fuss about it if he’d even mention the mere idea of it.

So for the following minutes, he doesn’t speak.

And neither do you.

You can’t speak from how deep he’s pushed himself inside you, anyway. No, all you can do is moan and whimper uselessly as he then proceeds to fuck you, to make love to you, to break you apart just to reassemble you until you’re whole again; all in the position he likes best.

He makes you sweat. Makes you cry out to him as you allow yourself to get lost in deeply-rooted carnal pleasure and you need his help to bring you back to morality. At some point, his arm even ends up reaching underneath you and wrapping around your stomach just so he can hold your hips up when you try to crawl away despite telling him that you’re going to stay put earlier.

Judging by the way you’re reacting to him, Kiba guesses that he’ll have to carry you down the hill when morning comes. 

Meanwhile, you’re unsure if it’s the bond that’s making you feel this wild or the simple fact that he’s not entirely human. However, when you at long last feel yourself clenching around him, and when that tight, almost unbearable heat that’s inside your tummy finally spills free and spreads throughout your whole body, you realize that you don’t really care what the reason behind your sudden recklessness might be.

“Fuck. M’not gonna last long, sweetheart… No fuckin’ way that I’m gonna last when your cunt’s milkin’ me dry like that,” Kiba grunts out as he feels you gush and start creaming on his cock. There’s a ring of milky slick gathering at his base already — the sight and sound of it turns his thrusts jerky and irregular. 

“Don’t get scared of the knot now, okay?” His upper lip trembles as he swallows hard. “It’ll be there just for a minute, I swear.”

“Knot…? What’s a—Oh, my gosh, Kiba; I am going to fucking murder you!”

The sudden swelling you feel inside your pussy practically bullies its way up to your cervix as he hunches his back and gives you one last, final push. 

Your toes curl as the ‘knot’ — or whatever he calls it — plugs you, and also succeeds in making you entirely rigid in return. Every last inch of your body feels tingly from the foreign sensation as he lets out one final groan, that sounds more like a pained whimper than anything else, and simply fills you up to the brim with warm, thick, endless ropes of cum that paint your abused walls entirely white and simply refuse to spill out of you.

You stare off into the darkness, listening to his ragged breathing whilst trying to tame your own. Eventually, his cock softens enough for your cunt to not feel like it’s going to fucking explode from the fullness. And as soon as that happens, he drops down upon poor, unsuspecting you; feeling completely, utterly exhausted.

Your werewolf best friend is squishing you flat like a pancake and is spoiling you with messy kisses after fucking you like an animal in the middle of the woods. And you’re just… fine with that?

The realization makes you smile.

Maybe living your life on the edge for once and being a little bit spontaneous isn’t as bad as you think.

———

“I really hope that your pills can withstand all that werewolf cum I’ve just pumped into ya, ya know. ‘Cause otherwise we’re gonna be having an entire litter of pups.”

“For the love of god, can you please use your lowly developed frontal lobe for like a second of your miserable life, and just keep watch like I told you to?”

“This is pointless. There’s literally no one here besides us and a couple of deer.”

“Shush! I’m trying to pee and I can’t do that when you keep on running your big-ass mouth!”

“Words, words, words; I am saying so many words just so that you won’t be able to piss.”

“Shut up already!”

With his back turned towards you and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweatpants, Kiba fights back a laugh as he listens to you relieve yourself in the nearby tall grass. 

After fucking you close to stupidity nearly three times in a row now — and mounting you twice during those three times — the young werewolf feels somewhat content with himself at long last. 

He’s fucked most of the rut out of his system by now. Besides that, you’ve also talked a lot, apologized to each other, and cleared up some misunderstandings. He’s even managed to place a hickey on that spot on your neck where your scent is the strongest and where, he hopes, you’ll let him place an actual bite mark someday.

But for now, you’re taking it slow. On Saturday, he’s taking you out to dinner at that little restaurant by the lake that you’ve always liked visiting with your parents. 

And who knows, maybe after you share dessert together, you might even go for a swim so that he has an excuse to take his shirt off in front of you and you get to make fun of him for it, or whatever.

So lost in his thoughts and all the planning he has yet to start pondering through, Kiba barely hears the rustle of your footsteps when you approach him from behind. 

He tenses, whipping his head in your direction only a millisecond before you manage to put away your travel sized packet of baby wipes that he teases you for constantly carrying around with you, and you place your hand on his shoulder.

Your eyebrows rise up towards your hairline in response to his visible startlement. “Did I just manage to sneak up on the so-called ‘apex predator’?”

“You wish,” he says as he absent-mindedly brushes you off. “I could smell ya from a mile away.”

You frown. “That’s so mean!”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he drawls, sighing. “It’s just that you smell like me, now… It stands out.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” You stick your tongue at him, looking up at him with your hands on your hips. In the moonlight, he’s even handsomer than usual in that weirdly rugged way that only he can pull off. “Can we go back inside the tent now? I’m exhausted after the entire...”

“Fuckfest?” he offers with a tricksy grin.

“Shut it!” you chide before you shove your phone’s flashlight right into his face as punishment.

Back inside the tent, you don’t have any sort of trouble with undressing yourself in front of your best friend this time. Your hoodie and t-shirt are tossed off, leggings following soon after — until you’re curling up against his strong chest in nothing else but your socks and underwear.

His body temperature isn’t nearly as hot as it was before, but the skin on skin contact provides you with enough warmth to be comfortable as you turn around to face him.

Kiba’s hair is mussed and his eyelids are already hooded with upcoming sleep when he lifts them just barely enough to look at you. The rut really has taken a toll on him; on the both of you alike.

“What is it now?” he mumbles lazily.

“Do you think,” you start, swallowing hard. “Do you think that we’re going to be okay?”

He smiles, the quirk of his lips faint. “I know we will.”

“And our friendship?” you ask, pressing your palm against his chest. “Do you think all of this is going to ruin it?”

“Nah, I think it’s goin’ to make it even better,” he says, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he settles back. He yawns, rubbing his eye as he mutters, “Besides, we’re gonna take it slow. Just like you’ve said.”

“And you’re fine with that?” you ask.

“‘Course I am,” he replies sleepily.

“Why?”

“Because you’re important to me,” he says. “So if you want to go slow, we’ll go as slow as goddamn snails if we have to.”

You let out a little laugh that sounds like wind chimes to him. “You’re so lame.”

Kiba grins, his heart fluttering at the sight of your smile. “Not as lame as you.”

And maybe, just maybe, going steady and experiencing peace for a change isn’t so bad either.

tags: @his-sweet-minx @rookie98writes @qichun @redskyvenus @simply-chillin-here @shanjisan

#kiba x reader #kiba smut #naruto smut #biscuit fics #kiba inuzuka x reader #naruto x reader #cw breeding #cw monsterfucking #cw omegaverse #cw knotting #kinktober #kiba inuzuka

[wandaromanova]

obvious

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Wednesday-level threats, that’s about it

A/N: hello! this is bad but it was fun to write. as always, not proofread cause i’m lazy. happy reading <3

anon requested: Reader and Wednesday are dating and reader is super affectionate; always kissing Wednesday’s cheeks, holding her hands, and just generally being physical like that. Reader doesn’t really think much about it until Enid mentions one day how surprised she is Wednesday let’s reader perform so much pda. Which makes reader suddenly stop. (Wednesday notices this ofc and is like “wtf???? Why did you stop?”)

Summary: Things aren’t as obvious as they seem, for both you and your girlfriend, Wednesday Addams.

Word Count: 2.1K words | wednesday masterlist

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

The entire student body was shocked when word of your relationship with Wednesday Addams spread across Nevermore.

You were outgoing and friendly while the Addams was intimidating and unapproachable. The two of you were an unlikely duo, the epitome of opposites attract.

It was remarkable to those around you, how the goth girl who hated being touched would let you hug her and live to see the next day.

The sight of Wednesday visibly relaxing in your hold was a stark contrast to the tenseness that permeated throughout her body whenever someone brushed their shoulder against hers in passing. 

Although the affectionate gestures were offputting to others, it was second nature for you.

Not once had you considered the fact that Wednesday loved to keep people at arms-length and then some.

In your mind, she was just your other half, and with touch being your love language, it only made sense. 

That was until Enid brought it to your attention. 

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

It was an average day in the quad, your boisterous classmates scattered throughout the open area when you walked up to the table that you always sat at.

Wednesday’s back was toward you, so you took the opportunity to sneak up on her.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, you kissed her cheek quickly before settling in the seat beside her, as your backpack hit the floor. 

The Addams turned her head toward you, staring at you impassively. You failed to notice the tiniest hint of a blush that graced her cheeks. Wednesday was grateful for your obliviousness. 

“Do you have a death wish?” She questioned monotonously as you gave her a wide smile.

“Yeah, only by your hands though,” you responded easily, sending her a wink before turning your attention to the bubbly blonde sitting across from you. 

“Hey Y/N, how’s your day been so far?” Enid smiled at you widely as she awaited your response, taking a bite of her sandwich which she chewed lazily.

“It’s been alright, but it's even better now that I’m here with my favorite girl… and Wednesday,” you laughed with Enid at your own joke before cringing as the girl beside you jabbed her elbow into your side.

The werewolf found the action even more amusing, her giggles increasing tenfold.

Your eyes met Wednesday’s as she glared at you, silently warning you to retract your statement. 

“Aw Wens, you know I’m kidding. You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you interlocked your fingers with hers under the table, bringing your conjoined hands up to your lips, placing gentle kisses on each of her pale knuckles. 

Her eyes raked over your features in thought, before abruptly standing up.

“Where are you going? Did I upset you?” You worriedly looked up at her as she let go of your hand, scared that you offended her. 

“It’s foolish of you to think inane words would disrupt my psyche. I have a Hummer meeting to attend,” Wednesday said, shrugging her backpack on.

“Come to my dorm tonight,” the raven-haired girl stared down at you, adjusting her blazer that crinkled slightly from her movements.

“Okay, but why?” You asked curiously, head tilting to the side. The action made Wednesday’s heart flutter, but she would never say that out loud.

“Enid needs help with her psychology homework,” she nonchalantly replied, so caught up in observing you that she forgot the werewolf was even present. 

Wednesday was quickly reminded when you turned your attention to the blonde. 

“You do? I thought you said the class was easy,” your eyebrows furrowed together, further evidence of your cluelessness.

You missed the threatening glare your partner sent Enid’s way.

“Uh… yeah I lied. I’m actually really struggling and need your help, pretty please,” Enid’s eyes fluttered back and forth between you and Wednesday, a nervous smile on her lips. 

Luckily, you didn’t question it and agreed to assist her.

And with that, Wednesday left without another word, your eyes glued to her retreating form with a small smile on your face.

God, you loved her.

“You two are so cute it’s actually disgusting,” Enid dramatically grimaced at the lovestruck look on your face. You smirked at her, a teasing glint in your eyes. 

“Please, like you and Ajax don’t act all lovey-dovey when you’re together,” you wiggled your eyebrows at the wolf, taking the tray of food Wednesday had left on the table and eating it yourself.

“Yeah, but with Ajax and I, it’s not unusual for us to show some PDA. You and my roomie on the other hand, it’s shocking but in a good way,” she clarified before taking another bite of her sandwich as you processed what she said.

“Why is our PDA shocking?” Confusion was plastered across your features, Enid staring at you like you’d asked the stupidest question to ever be spoken.

“Wednesday hates being touched. It took me forever to get a hug from her, and I live with her! It’s a miracle she lets you touch her at all, let alone in public.”

Silence took over as you sat in thought, mindlessly picking at the food you no longer had an interest in eating. Enid was right.

Wednesday always made it clear that affection was something she despised. Perhaps you got excited by the euphoria of being with the girl you love, letting it cloud your judgment. 

Surely your girlfriend would have mentioned if your advances made her uncomfortable, right?

Your mind was swimming as the bell rang, indicating the end of the lunch period.

In a trance, you stood up, said goodbye to Enid, and walked to class. Before you even made it through the door to botany, you’d come to your conclusion.

You’ll give Wednesday the space she didn’t ask for.

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

Wednesday was completely and utterly flabbergasted. For the past week, you’ve been different. Your personality around her was intact, but there was something severely lacking; physical contact.

For the first time in her life, Wednesday was at a loss. 

The goth girl recalled every interaction she had with you prior to the sudden change, but her efforts to rationalize your behavior were fruitless. 

Wednesday detested how the circumstance got under her skin like parasites.

Her thoughts were plagued with you, even more so than usual. Writing became an insurmountable feat that she failed to overcome.

She felt pathetic, not finishing the chapter of her novel that she was so close to completing. 

The raven-haired girl cursed her father in these fleeting moments. She simply must have inherited this pitiful need for her lover from the man. It was his fault that now, she resembled a lovesick buffoon. 

It was agonizing to be so close to you, but feel so far. 

Wednesday normally found your obliviousness endearing, but now she wants to commit every single degree of murder because of it.

Each lunch period, she would sit beside you, hoping for some semblance of comfort she so desperately craved, but to no avail. Even when she put her pride aside, she was literally left empty-handed.

How did you not notice her hand resting on her thigh, wide open for the taking? How did you not notice the astronomical distance between your bodies?

How could you ignore her ice-cold cheeks, desperate for the warmth of your lips to paint them with color?

The old Wednesday would ridicule this newfound version of herself. However, you changed her.

Whether it was for better or for worse, well that was a debate the goth girl had during times like this.

She shamefully reduced herself to obvious pining for the sake of having you close.

So… why weren’t you taking any of her hints?

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

It was obvious Wednesday didn’t want you near her. 

Ever since you decided to give your girlfriend space, all she has done is look at you. She made no moves to initiate contact, just staring at you with emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. 

Admittedly, your mission was not an easy one. It took every fiber of your being to keep from holding your girlfriend’s hand or brushing away strands of hair that managed to escape her tight braids.

You felt as though you were punishing yourself, positive that you were the only one suffering.

However, your outlook changed the day Wednesday came knocking at your door.

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

You were sat at your desk, back hunched over as you scribbled some notes down. You’d been in your dorm all day, declining the offers of your friends to head into Jericho. 

It was a Saturday and while everyone was hoping the day would never end, you wanted it to end faster.

Your study session came to a halt when three resounding knocks came from your door.

You smiled to yourself, knowing who was on the other side waiting for you. You stood up from your chair, groaning as you stretched your arms out.

When you swung the door open, you were met with Wednesday glaring daggers at you.

The Addams pushed her way into your room, not giving you the chance to greet her. 

Bewildered, you shut the door and turned to face your storm-cloud of a girlfriend.

She was standing in the middle of your room, dawning her checkered sweater that was slightly oversized and some black sweatpants.

She was so adorable even though she looked like she was gonna kill you right now.

“Well, hello to you too Wens,” you said sarcastically, accompanied by a playful roll of your eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” Wednesday probed, blunt and to the point as always.

If looks could kill, you would be decomposed.

“The real question is; what isn’t wrong with me? Yanno what I mean?” you rubbed the back of your neck, giggling out of fear for your well-being.

“Did I do something to offend you?” The raven-haired girl’s tone was firm, a trace of concern mixed in.

“Of course, not. You did nothing wrong. Why would you think that?” You took a few steps closer to the girl but made sure to leave room between the two of you.

Wednesday’s eyes focused on everything but you as she let out a deep sigh. Despite being a writer, she struggled to put her thoughts into words.

Oh, the irony.

“You have not been close to me all week. I demand to know why,” the Addams tried to keep her composure, but the little shake in her voice was a dead giveaway to her nervousness.

You were taken aback by her words, shock evident on your face before it was quickly replaced by a look of utter confusion. 

Honestly, when were you not confused? 

“I know you don’t like to be touched, so I thought space was what you wanted,” you said, sincerity dripping from your tone like honey.

Wednesday blankly stared as you shuffled in place, an indication of your anxiousness.

“You’re correct. I hate being touched by other people, but you’re not other people, mon cher,” her gaze softened, taking two steps closer to you.

Her hand cupped your cheek and your eyes fluttered shut, the coolness of her skin sending electricity throughout your body.

”You’re the exception,” Wednesday whispered quietly, like she didn’t want anyone but you to hear. She was so close you could feel her breath on your lips.

There was no time for you to respond before the girl pressed her lips to your own. 

You reveled in the feeling of her soft lips, your breath taken away at the tenderness of it all. Your arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her as close as you possibly could.

When air became an issue, you reluctantly pulled away.

Your forehead connected to hers, basking in the silence and Wednesday’s presence. A beat passed before you opened your eyes, reluctantly pulling back to stare at the girl.

“I’m sorry, Wens. I won’t distance myself ever again,” you mumbled, head still in the clouds from the most passionate kiss you and the Addams ever shared.

“It was idiotic of you to do so in the first place,” she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Yeah… well, Enid reminded me you aren’t the affectionate type. So, I-,” your sentence was cut short as your girlfriend interrupted you.

“She will die a slow and painful death,” Wednesday spoke apathetically, pecking your cheek before moving out of your grasp, much to your dismay.

“Where are you going?” You whined, already missing your girlfriend’s touch.

“To kill Enid,” she responded casually, twisting the doorknob and walking out.

You laughed to yourself, knowing her threat was an empty one.

The werewolf was one of the few people your girlfriend tolerated. Wednesday would never hurt Enid…right?

Your eyes widened, bolting out of your dorm to save your best friend from your murderous other half.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagines #wednesday addams x reader fluff

[drgrlfriend]

Comments versus Bookmarks on AO3

A few people seemed appreciative of my post about how to use AO3's Marked for Later feature, so I thought I'd follow up with another tip about comments versus bookmarks. As part of the amazing @justleaveacommentfest I noticed a few people mentioned leaving nice comments in bookmarks, and I thought it might help to have a little info about how comments are different from bookmarks, and why it's better to send a comment if you want to make an author happy or make fandom friends or have an interesting discussion.

Bookmarks *are* viewable by everyone, unless you make them private. If you plan to say anything negative in your bookmark, please make it private. It's not really the flip side, however, that leaving positive statements in your bookmarks will reach the author, though.

Most authors are alerted when they get new comments, either through their dashboard or via email if they choose, or both. Yay! Serotonin boost, and also the ability to reply back and start a conversation! Plus, readers can have great discussions with each *other* in the comments section of a fic! If you're super into a fic you can read comments on the chapter even years later, and sometimes find the author adding additional thoughts or discussing their thought process while writing! It's like DVD extras for fanfic! (Do kids these days know what DVD extras are any more? Damned if I know).

You don't really know, as an author, when someone bookmarks one of your fics. Some authors, particularly when they are feeling low (cough cough) may also look at bookmarks to see if there are nice things there. This would basically just involve clicking on the bookmarks for each of your fics individually to see if there's anything a.) new and b.) nice in them.

This is an act of desperation. It's not really a wise thing to do, as 99% of bookmarks have no comments, or just list the title and author in fear of the fic being deleted some day and not knowing what you're missing. Even worse, if you, as an author, get desperate enough to cruise your bookmarks, you are as likely to see someone say something like "Meh" or "This got boring so I stopped reading at Chapter 5" or "Too many werewolves 3/10" in a werewolf fic than you are to see a nice compliment.

So, if you loved a fic and want to memorialize your love in a bookmark, be an extra super-duper sweetheart and cut and paste that into a comment for the author! Make the AO3 environment enriching for both authors and fellow readers in the comments section, and protect your friendly local author by not providing intermittent positive reinforcement for the negative behavior of scrolling through bookmarks!

I still recommend bookmarking fics. Bookmark those favorite fics you want to come back and read later, or use bookmarks to leave yourself little reminders if they are nice or in private bookmarks if they are not nice. Bookmark good resources, like how to code things in html or how to use AO3 filters most effectively. Find awesome new things to read by looking through the bookmarks of your favorite authors, because if you vibe with someone's writing you may also vibe with their favorite fics to read!

#archive of our own #ao3 #fanfiction #authors #writers #readers #bookmarks versus comments #how to ao3 #ao3 tips and tricks #ao3 how-tos #ao3 resources

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Feb 26th

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1. hi, would like to ask if you know of any fic about the sunshot campaign after a failed golden core transfer. thank you :)

Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WWX & WN & WQ, JC & WWX, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Canon Divergence, Angst, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Dark, BAMF WWX, mentions of abuse, Not Everyone Dies au, XY doesn’t have a happy ending) IDK about failed transfer, but this is a Time Travel AU where WQ travels back to when she was performing the transfer & refuses to go through with it

~*~

2. Hello! I have been reading a fic where the elder Lan Wangji Hanguang Jun time travels into the past time in Cloud Recess during the time when his Younger self and Wwx were studying

And then wwx is all over the older Hanguang Jun fawning and fussing .

Fic like Vinegar Jug by Dandelion Sun .

Or something similar coded. @lostsoul234

💖 Hanguang-jun’s Husband by lilacevergarden (alittlemorecreative) (T, 6k, wangxian, time travel, bullying ur younger versions, jealous wwx)

💖 From the Future for the Past by friedchickenlord (G, 27k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, first love, love confessions, fluff & humor, denial, pining, happy ending)  

~*~

3. Tysm Mods for all you do to accommodate and keep up with these asks and recs. As well as all your efforts in keeping up this site. We all appreciate it very much.❤️❤️🥰

But, here’s the ittmf ask. I’m looking for longer fics, (30k+ words) for modern cultivation aus. I’m looking for something like the societies portrayed in Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! byKizuKatana or All Old Things are New Again byThe Feels Whale (miscellea) would be great, but just give me what you’ve got. I’m hungry for more, does anyone have any good ones? @omgnectarina

I feel like I win when I lose by so_shhy (T, 25k, wangxian, modern cultivation, Sports AU, Getting Together, some semblance of a plot, gently implied 3zun, obsessively observing someone from a distance is super romantic, LWJ pls use your words, really WWX cannot be blamed for obliviousness in this one, WC causing trouble, WN is precious, Fluff, Podfic Available)

Hear a song this deeply by so_shhy (T, 87k, wangxian, modern cultivation, music, kid fic, action/adventure, canon typical JGY behavior, slow burn, fluff & angst, happy ending)

🔒 close the door behind me, i'm leaving by thelastdboy (M, 3k, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, Madam Lan & LWJ, Modern Cultivation, Canon Divergence, POV LWJ, Character Study, Coming of Age, Past Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Neurodiversity, Autism Spectrum, Situational Mutism, Hurt No Comfort)

💙 this river runs to you by sundiscus (T, 53k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mutual Pining, Dragons, Literal Sleeping Together, Tender wound tending) Idk how close these are to what OP wants, but I've been reading a lot of Modern Cultivation fics recently, so here's my fave so far

something wicked by isabilightwood (T, 13k, wangxian, modern with magic, coffee shop AU, Animal Transformation Curse, Bunji, LWJ is a Talking Bunji, True Love’s Kiss, Specifically the Same Type of Love, Miscommunication, Pining, Jealous WWX, WWX attempts to set LWJ up on dates, LWJ is not having it, WWX is an empath but he’s bad at telling how people feel about him, Friends to Lovers, Moms and WCZ Live, blink and you’ll miss it implied 3zun, Werewolf Baker WN, extremely mild angst, Fluff, minor background WQ/JYL/JZX, Halloween)

The Curse Breaker by NebulusCharlie (Not rated, 34k, wangxian, Curses, soft and fluffy WangXian, past mistakes, school of Cultivation, modern with magic, Definitely a happy ending, not much angst)

Extracts from the diaries of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, relating to the case of Lan Zetian (Nov. 4 to Nov. 27) by Accidental_Child (T, 6k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Case Fic, Epistolaryish, Diary/Journal, WWX-centric, LWJ-centric, Slow Burn, (academic), Enemies to Lovers, academic rivals to Lovers, Mentions of Murder, mentions of abuse, mentions of assult)

And you must keep your soul/ Like a secret in your throat by athena_crikey (E, 48k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Vampire WWX, Cultivator LWJ, Case Fic, hur/comfort, Angst, Falling In Love, First Time, Reference to Torture)

那些年错过的大雨 (Nàxiē nián cuòguò de dàyǔ | The heavy rain we missed in those years) by PorcupineGirl (E, 29k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, Modern Cultiovation, Secret Identity, Wangxian Reunion, Dual Cultivation, Sorta kinda soulmates, but not a soulmate au, Consensual Non-Consent, Explicit Consent, Dom/sub, dom LWJ, sub WWX, Wangxian Have a Non-Con/Rape Kink, No Golden Core Transfer, discussion of mental health issues, WWX & LSZ reunion, Scheming NHS, NHS is Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Fic (except for how his fingerprints are all over it), Content Warnings in Chapter Notes, no lube we die like WWX's asshole)

~*~

4. I've read a few fics with this lovely concept, but may I have more recs with talisman-genius wwx? getting rich/admired as a result of that is a welcome bonus! thank you💚

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 762k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) The ultimate Talisman Genius WWX Gets Recognition fic

🧡 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It’s There) by H_Belle (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern Cultivators, Inventor WWX, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, YLLZ WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Pining LWJ, POV WWX, Background Wangxian Getting Together, Jiangs are only mentioned in the passing, inspired by a tumblr post)

💙🔒 Away from Trouble by Ilona22 (M, 15k, WangXian, Not JC Friendly, LWJ/WWX Get a Happy Ending) 

🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 46k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Time Travel Fix-It, JC Bashing, Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect Bashing Jiāng Family Bashing, YZY Bashing, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, Wooing, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, frankencanon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gūsū Lán Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad)

A Thousand Things by tickertape (M, 108k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX not adopted by Jiangs, developing friendships, miscommunication, misunderstangings, nightmares, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, WWX’s fear of dogs, slow burn, cultivation world bureaucracy)

~*~

5. this is for itmf! (no wips)

A. bottomji fics please

B. fics w lots of cuddling, soft fics (post- canon preferably, but anything is good!!)

5A)

do with me what spring does with cherry trees by jalpari (E, 34k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, No War AU, Bottom LWJ, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Idiots in Love, Touch-Starved LWJ)

this bed of love by YaYa (Terabyte_my_ass) (E, 4k, wangxian, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Tender Sex, super sensitive LWJ, Blink and you miss it humiliation kink, and a little bit of praise kink, First Time Bottoming, Bottom LWJ, POV LWJ, Coming Untouched)

Respectable, Decent, and Quiet by Theotrix (E, 5k, wangxian, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, repressed LWJ, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Loud Sex, Emotional release, How about instead of more rules you get your disciples some therapy)

leave all your love and your longing behind by ScarlettStorm (E, 143k, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Meet-Ugly, Panic Attacks, autistic lwj, neurodivergent wwx, the neighborhood asshole dog, if you’ve met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the asshole dog, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation)

To Know, To Be Known by cqlorphan (E, 38k, wangxian, PWP, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Cock Warming, Multiple Orgasms, Marathon Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Porn with Feelings, Aftercare, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, let lwj get railed agenda, LWJ Learns Some Things about himself, sex tears, gratuitous use of names, Begging, Kink Discovery, Post-Canon, Top LWJ, Bottom WWX, Switching, Light Bondage, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Let wwx get tied up but also let lwj railed, Repressed LWJ, Inventor WWX, Cock Rings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, begging, talking about feelings, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Dildos, Rimming, Edging) link in #15

~*~

6. my first time sending an ask! this is for the i’m in a mood for thing, i wanted fics where xue yang ends up in the burial mounds and/or becoming wwx’s protégé, like canon divergence where he isn’t like a full spawn of evil

no one ever said the single-plank bridge had to be walked alone by rosemu (T, 124k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Yílíng Wèi Sect au, Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Fluff, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Slow Burn, LWJ and WWX get to be Dads together, the healing power of homoerotic flute/guqin duets, Happy Ending) XY is sent to the Burial Mounds to spy for JGY, becomes WWX's student & switches sides, is still snarky without being evil

~*~

7. Hi! I’m in the mood for fics where WWX comes back in MXYs body but it’s absolute canon divergence from there. Thanks for all your help! @empress-of-elsewhere

Home isn't Where the Heart is. by Hauntcats (Not rated, 7k, wangxian) Technically already an AU before WWX came back, since LWJ noped out of the Lans while he was dead, but might still count for the request

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)

~*~

8. heyyy, do yall have a cross dressing comp.?? if not can u rec some (or put this in itmf?)

My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

Wei Wuxian, Who’s That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels)

we’ll get him falling for a stranger (or a catfish) by sweetlolixo (T, 38k, WangXian, Modern AU, College AU, Catfish AU, Eventual Happy Ending, Crossdressing WWX, Rich heir LWJ gets catfished by pretty WWX online that’s it that’s the fic, Pining LWJ, Fluff, Humor, lwj is a grade A+ SIMP, Identity Porn)

~*~

9. I've read a few fics with side plots of the lans learning about the culture of yunmeng and seeing all of the cultural differences, and was wondering if there were anymore fics like that? It could be any sect tbh I'm just super interested in the cultural differences between the sects. @reyoffuckingsunshine

~*~

10. do u have some outsider pov mdzs fics (especially if it's like from any of the juniors or lan xichen )

Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor) Juniors pov time travel fic

Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 59k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Canon Divergence, Fix-it, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions, LWJ's emotional repression, WWX giving everything as always, LXC realising sympathy is not support, LQR Being an Asshole) LXC POV

The Story of El-ahrairah and the Rabbits of Cloud Recesses by zylaa (G, 1k, wangxian, Crack, Fluff, literal fluff, it's all about the rabbits) Definitely outsider pov as it's from characters from outside MDZS canon

There's a Baby Loose in the Burial Mounds! by ScarlettStorm (G, 3k, LSZ is the best boy, even the ghosts think so, OCs, But they're all dead, What is a family?, the burial mounds, sentient burial mounds, don't worry wangxian are together and in love, that's just not relevant to anything that happens in this fic, radish truther agenda) POV various ghosts

❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, Mojo’s bookmark) LJY POC

pitfalls of greed by glitteringmoonlight (T, 3k, WangXian, POV Outsider, BAMF WWX, Kidnapping, Violence, YLLZ WWX, not exactly but the vibes are there, Post-Canon) POV random idiots

💖 Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing) LQR POV

Oh, my precious didi! by PrinceInuYasha (G, 7k, wangxian, High School AU, LXC's pov, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Some angst, Protective WWX, overprotective LXC, Rumors, Established Relationship, bad boy WWX, but not really) link in #11

~*~

11. Do u have some lan xichen or jin ling pov fics esp ones that are already not quite so popular on ao3

Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 59k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Canon Divergence, Fix-it, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions, LWJ's emotional repression, WWX giving everything as always, LXC realising sympathy is not support, LQR Being an Asshole) link in #10 LXC POV

Oh, my precious didi! by PrinceInuYasha (G, 7k, wangxian, High School AU, LXC's pov, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Some angst, Protective WWX, overprotective LXC, Rumors, Established Relationship, bad boy WWX, but not really)

climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (T, 15k, JC & JL & WWX, JC & JL, JC & WWX, JL & LSZ, JL & WWX, Post-Canon, Mutually Unrequited Forgiveness, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Family History, Generational Trauma, Discussion of Canonical Abuse, Awkward Attempts at Communication, mentions of past JC/WQ, Fairy is a good dog, Podfic by RevolutionaryJo)

a symbol to remind you that there's more to see by paperminds (T, 9k, JL & WWX, JC & JL, JC & WWX, canon-compliant, post-canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mild/Moderate Angst with happy ending, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Twin Idiots, Reconciliation, JL has too many uncles, JL deserves a hug, JL will save us all, excessive verbosity by yours truly)

To Love What Is Mortal by treemaidengeek (T, 22k, XiSong, Post-Canon, Grief/Mourning, Fluff and Angst, Healing, past 3Zun, past SongXiao, background WangXian, background SL & WN, & LSZ, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, [Podfic] To Love What Is Mortal by flamingwell)

Gentle Exile by rynleaf (E, 9k, XiSong, Post-Canon, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, References to Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Character Study, Epistolary, Post-Canon, Exploration, [PODFIC] Gentle Exile by flamingwell, semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))

🔒hills and rivers are waiting by LtLJ (G, 15k, WangXian, CQL canon, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, domestic fluff and angst, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, BAMF WWX)

~*~

12. I’m ITMF a fic where it’s a AITA au / where the characters are in a AITA scenario @zerokogane

Am I (Gusu Lan Cultivator, 24 M) the Asshole? by moonwaif (M, 41k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Oblivious LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Jealous WWX, Misunderstandings, No actual Wei Ying x Others, A "What If Wei Wuxian Figured Out His Own Feelings First?" AU, Hanguang-jun unlearns compulsory heteronormativity, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, give LWJ friends agenda)

~*~

13. hi! for itmf i wanted to ask, are there any fics where cssr's infidelity accusation gets addressed definitively? it's mentioned sometimes but there aren't ever consequences for yzy or the other gossipers, or wwx doesn't get to honor and take pride in his parents (I'll also take any angsty options where the the jfm-bastard assumption gets wwx in trouble) thank you!!

~*~

14. hey admins! i'm in the mood for any fics where wwx is depressed and sad, but people help him? i'm in an angsty mood, thanks!

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 53k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)

🔒 tuck me in by belovedmuerto (T, 4k, WangXian, bed sharing, Hurt/Comfort, mostly comfort, Pre-Slash, Getting Together, Nightmares, expressions of care)

~*~

15. hi! if you dont mind me asking, what is the mdzs/the untamed fic with the best smut you ever read? any kind of fic is fair game

Make me by anaphoricae (E, 180k, wangxian, Modern, Dom/sub, Dominant WWX, Submissive LWJ, Friends With Benefits, Pining while fucking, Co-workers, Praise Kink, Touch-Starved LWJ, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Nipple Play, Mutual Masturbation, Overstimulation, POV WWX, In which I trick you into reading about Wangxian falling in love by making you think it's all just a smut fic, Brief Mentions of WWX/Others and LWJ/Others, Bondage, Blindfolds, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Flogging, Chair Bondage, Aftercare, Edging, Jealous LWJ, Facials, Come as Lube, and also lube as lube, Cock & Ball Torture, But it's mild, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Face Slapping, Choking, Subspace, Couch Sex, LWJ sitting on WWXs lap agenda, Biting, Spanking, LWJ having his cheeks pinched as a treat, So much RESPECT and TRUST this is actually way softer than the tags make it seem, Bottom LWJ, POV LWJ, Rope Bondage, Office Sex, Rope Bunny LWJ, Spit As Lube, LWJ's canonical habit of keeping (stealing) Wei Wuxian's things, Intercrural Sex, Light Angst, Blow Jobs, Snowballing, Service Submission, Lingerie, LWJ's brain going BRRRRR, Jealous WWX, Cock Rings, Cock Warming, Collars, Power Play, Orgasm Control, LWJ and WWX's inability to pretend they're not actually madly in love with each other, slight degradation [Affectionate], Miscommunication, Impact Play, Rigger WWX, BDSM fetish party, Public Blow Jobs, Rope Suspension, Cuddlefucking, Fluff, LWJ and WWX being boyfriends without realizing they're boyfriends, Porn with Feelings, Body Worship) lots of bdsm and stuff so u might wanna check out the tags

To Know, To Be Known by cqlorphan (E, 38k, wangxian, PWP, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Cock Warming, Multiple Orgasms, Marathon Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Porn with Feelings, Aftercare, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, let lwj get railed agenda, LWJ Learns Some Things about himself, sex tears, gratuitous use of names, Begging, Kink Discovery, Post-Canon, Top LWJ, Bottom WWX, Switching, Light Bondage, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Let wwx get tied up but also let lwj railed, Repressed LWJ, Inventor WWX, Cock Rings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, begging, talking about feelings, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Dildos, Rimming, Edging)

🔒sleep in your bed by copperwings (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Fluff, Humor, Smut, Attempt at Humor, Boys Kissing, Emotional Sex, Anal Sex)

Fentao-laoshi’s Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures by occultings (microcomets) (E, 31k, wangxian, canon divergence, pining while fucking, friends with benefits, first time, cloud recesses study arc, practice kissing, sharing a bed, jealousy, getting together, confessions, happy ending)

~*~

16. Hi! This is for ITMF ✨

I'm looking for two kind of fics:

A) Cloud Recesses Arc where WWX and LWJ are together soon, Happy ending pls. I like longer fics, but shorts ones are OK. 🤗💕

B) Travel time fics where WWX (I prefer WWX but if it's LWJ it's ok too) travel in time to fix everything and save everyone. I love this kind of fics. Please give me all you have. Happy endings, pls. 💕😉

Thanks for everything!! Ily 🤟😊 @wangxiansgirl

16A)

❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, wangxian, canon divergence, political marriage, dysfunctional family, implied/referenced self-harm, hurt/comfort, fix-it, implied/referenced suicide, BAMF WWX, eventual happy ending, not YZY friendly, not LQR friendly (kind of), Mojo’s bookmark)

16B)

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon) LWJ stuck in a time loop

Regrets by antebunny (G, 38k, wangxian, miscommunication, misundersandings, time travel fix-it, temporary character death, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort) Both LWJ & WWX time travel

Here With Me by iamwish (T, 58k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel Fix-It, No war AU, Not YZY Friendly, Somebody Lives/Not everyone dies, Established Relationship) WWX time travels

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) WWX time travels

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, slow burn, getting together, first time, pining, pining while fucking, burial mounds settlement days, angst w happy ending) LWJ time travels

🔒 Hope series by RoseThorne (M, 59k, wangxian, WIP, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death, Resentment, Anger, Explosions, Yīn Iron, Grief/Mourning, POV WWX)

Wish Me Luck by Starlight1395 (Not rated, 164k, wangxian, time travel, fix it, PTSD) It's the perfect angsty/cute combo time travel fix-it fix! Also fits #16A

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

~*~

17. Hola! Nice to meet you ☺️

I want to ask for some fics in ITMF. Lately I'm reading a lot of Wangxian fics where they kiss or confess in Xuanwu cave or Gusu cave. I like when they have their happy ending, long fics better. (I'm happy with mpreg and omegaverse too).

Thx!!

💙🔒 Wish I could forget the taste of your skin and the feel of your hands pinning me down by KizuKatana (E, 63k, wangxian, WQ & WWX & WN, modern w/ cultivation, getting back together, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, case fic, pining)

hope dangling by a string by KouriArashi (M, 70k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC & LWJ, JC & WWX, Alternate Canon, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Psychic Bond, Telepathy, Communication, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, jiang family feels, Lan Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical political bullshit, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing)

Quartet series by WithBroomBefore (T, 69k wangxian, JZX & JC & WWX & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, WWX's canonical comfort with the prospect of his own death, Hurt/Comfort, JZX makes friends, Eventual Happy Ending, some unhappiness along the way, Canon-Typical Violence, JC keeps his golden core, JYL Lives, WQ Lives, Minor Character Death, Kissing, WWX Lives, no golden core transfer, JZX Lives, Fix-It, WN Lives, Weeping, temporary major character death, Murder Road Trip, Implied Sexual Content, Sunshot Campaign, Nonbinary NHS, Telepathy, platonic group soulbonding, Family, Found Family, POV WWX, Podfic Available, Siblings Sworn Brothers, aroace JZX, Happy Ending, all the Wen remnants live, POV JZX, JGY is less murdery, Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, JZX's social awkwardness, Poison) the first part starts with the Xuanwu cave and confessions/realisations.

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling of Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Of Wolf and Man

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: Walter lets you in on his past, and you meet a friend.

Warnings: making out, slight heavy petting, hot werewolves

A/N: This chapter gave me so much grief! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. 

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“I’m on my way over, alright? Just breathe for me. I’m gonna make a phone call and I will be over to your place shortly, okay?” Walter speaks clearly as if he were trying to calm down a frightened puppy.

Well, he’s not that far off.

“Yeah ok. Breathe. That should be easy enough, right?” You proceed to take one shaky deep breath and you laugh when you gulp in too much air and have a small coughing fit.

“Pup, you’re killing me. Gimme twenty minutes. Drink some water. I’ll see you soon, okay?” You hear the way he tries to cover up his worry with a short laugh.

“See you soon, Wolfie.”  

You hang up and undress, throw your clothes in the hamper, and head to the bathroom to take a shower. Your body moved of its own accord, your brain leaving the equation early on to think hypotheticals. Only when you register that the water has gone cold do you turn the knobs and exit the tub. You are just toweling off when you hear the doorbell. 

You tighten your towel around yourself and peek out the bathroom window down onto your driveway. You can see the edge of the black F-150 in the driveway and you heave a sigh of relief. You skip down the steps and walk across the living room to the front door. Opening it, you go to speak but hush and step aside as Walter walks in still talking on the phone with someone. 

He mouths, I’m sorry, before going back to the phone call. “Yeah, alright. Thanks, brother. See you soon,” he ends the call and focuses his attention on you, smiling as you watch him take in your attire or lack thereof.

“So, who was that?” you ask, knocking Walter out of his daydreaming.

“Right, uh. That was Jace. He’s coming down to help us with our little problem. Well, it may not even be a problem. Who knows? Sy might be fine, we haven’t even seen his bite yet.” Walter scratches his beard and shrugs.

Crap.

“Actually, I’ve seen it. He sent me a pic of the bite after we were on the phone on my way home from work,” you reply, wishing you could melt into the floorboards.

Walter tilts his head and squints at you. “He sent you a pic of the bite after you were on the phone on your way home from work? That seems...friendly.” You watch as he bites the inside of his cheek, no doubt leaving something unsaid.

“Yeah, he left me a voicemail the night you both were hurt. But I didn’t listen to it until today. I had to call him to make sure he was okay before I bothered you with possibly a false alarm. I’m sorry I didn’t call you first.” you explain, grabbing his big paw and looking into his eyes.

He can’t help but melt for you, but he tries to keep it out of his expression. He fails, rolling his eyes and smiling. “First things first, pack a bag for a night or two at the cabin. Just for my own worry. So I know you’re safe.” He laces his fingers with yours and pulls you to him, “Oh, and I should probably look at that photo too.”

You pull him with you upstairs and grab your phone off of the charger. Scrolling to the texts, you find Sy’s chat and open it. You turn to look at Walter and speak, “I did not ask him to send a thirst trap. Just want that to be stated clearly.” 

You hand him your phone and he rolls his eyes, using his thumb and index finger to zoom in on the bite. He studies the image for a bit before giving you back the device, sniffing and putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Well?” you press.

“Kinda hard to look at it honestly. Never thought I’d see your ex’s happy trail. So, there’s that variable thrown in there for good measure,” he offers, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “It just seems like he is quite comfortable sending you these.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, you have to tell him. “Look, that day you dropped me at my car, Sy was here. Olivia called him because she didn’t know what else to do. He pointed out the hickey you left on my neck. He’s obviously jealous and he wanted to throw his hat in the ring. That’s all.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure he knows who hangs his hat here.” Walter pulls you to him, his large hand going to your throat as your lips connect. He swallows your delicate moans, savoring them as his thumb rubs at your pulse point. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, and lets you catch your breath. 

You look up into his eyes and can’t stop the dopey smile that forms on your face. You shake your head and say, “Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend? ‘Cause, if so? Fuck yeah is my answer.”

“Now, don’t let me stop you from packing. I’ll just sit here quietly.” He sits on your bed and gestures for you to get ready to go to his house.

Pulling a small suitcase from the closet, you gather your toiletries first, zipping their case closed as you walk back into the bedroom. It’s not long before you are in Walter’s truck and starting the trip to the cabin. You yawn for most of the ride, your body finally still and feeling like you could fall over at any second.

You arrive and put your things upstairs. Checking your watch, you realize it’s after 1 in the morning and you suddenly aren’t tired anymore. You didn’t have the chance to wind down after work, now that you think about it. You just stayed stimulated, in one way or another, off and on.

You decide to go back downstairs and see what Walter is doing. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you see him emerge from the kitchen holding an apple between his teeth as he pushes up the sleeves of his sweater.

After a healthy bite, he takes the fruit out of his mouth and walks over to you. “Lemme guess, can’t sleep?” You shake your head and he nods. “Wanna wait up for Jace with me? We can talk while we wait.”

You nod and he takes your hand, leading you to the living room.

“So how long have you known Jace?” you inquire, settling back into the couch’s plush cushions.

“Oh, far too long. I met him when I was turned.” Walter stops there and looks at you, seeing your look of excitement at hearing the story, “Look, it’s not that great of a story. But I’ll tell you if you wanna hear it.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t have to. But just know, it’s been on my mind since the moment I found out what you are. Of course, I wanna know how it happened.” You put your hand on his and he turns it over to hold it.

“It was really stupid. I came here to the States for school and I played football and was in a frat house. I had the whole ‘college experience’, ya know? Um, one kid on the team was kind of a loner but we got along just fine. Melot and I were pretty different, but he needed a friend and I was broke and he paid for everything. One night, he invited me out to a party off-campus. Promises drinks and girls and whatever I wanted. Should have known that was too good to be true.

“Anyway, he drives us out into the woods where this bonfire is going on. And there are maybe ten people there that I can see as we walk up. As soon as we get up to the fire, this huge guy stands up and walks around the fire and greets us. Now, he looks like he eats children and I feel so small in front of him. But he just hands us a couple of beers and whistles over his shoulder. And two very cute girls come running over. All of a sudden, I’ve got a cold beer and a girl on my arm and I didn’t take a second to think maybe this was too good to be true.”

You snicker at him, and he continues.

“The rest of the night is going alright. Then I notice there is a fighting ring going on and I see that they are really going for it. It’s brutality at its finest. I walk up and then the fight stops and I see Melot get into the ring and people start pushing me in. I was drunk enough to agree to fight him, but not drunk enough to lose. I had him knocked out within minutes, or so I thought. 

“I wobbled over to him and turned him over to check out the damage and he lunged at me. Before I could even understand what was happening, Melot was biting into my shoulder. The pain was unimaginable and I blacked out. I came to and was so lost. I woke up and the girl from the night before was holding a cloth to my forehead and she smiled down at me when I opened my eyes. I fell in love with Angie at that very moment. We were inseparable after that. At least for a while.”

You squeeze his hand, not knowing what to say, and he smiles at you before talking again.

“So, Melot is there when I wake up too. He tells me that he wanted to impress the Alpha with a new wolf for the pack. Apparently, Melot thought this would get him some kind of accolades. But, it only pissed off the Alpha for potentially exposing them to humans. Heard they tortured him pretty well after that. Serves him right. 

“I just ended up going back to school after everything. Didn’t see Melot much after that, but I did go back to the pack when I started to feel like I was losing my mind. On the night of my first shift, I met Jace. A handful of them were at the place in the woods and said they expected me sooner. I was so sick, thought it was the flu. They took me in and helped me through that first painful transformation. When I was in wolf form for the first time, all I could do was run. I ran through those woods until Jace tackled me and talked me down. He became my brother that night. He took me under his wing and taught me everything he knew. Which is why I called him about our situation. If anyone can help, it’s him.”

“So, was Jace bitten too? Or...can you be born a werewolf?” you wonder aloud.

“I was bitten. Angie, Jace, and Faye were all born with the lycanthropy gene,” he answers, noting your furrowed brow, “The lycanthropy gene is passed down from werewolves to their offspring. Usually lays dormant until puberty. That’s one thing that Teen Wolf got right. The 80s one, not the MTV one.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that my Wolfie has seen Teen Wolf, but it still makes me feel all tingly, knowing you’ve seen werewolf media. Oh my God, have you seen Twilight?!” you exclaim, suddenly hyper-aware that you’ve gone giddy.

Walter snorts and pulls you into straddle his lap, cupping your face in both of his hands. Pulling you close, he turns his head to whisper in your ear, “Team Jacob.”

You actually swoon, and your little whimpered moan escapes before you get the chance to permit it. Covering your mouth too late, you lean back at look at Walter’s smug face. You swat at his shoulder and the corner of his mouth turns up.

He has you pinned under him on the sofa so fast, you could hear the air whoosh by. He nuzzles his nose with yours, then moves to kiss from your lips to your neck. You turn your head to give him better access, letting your hand tangle in his hair.

He licks and nips at your soft flesh, sucking and biting his way to where your neck meets your shoulder. While his hips are pressing into you, his hand snakes under your shirt to tickle your skin. You chirp when you feel his teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot. 

You freeze, you’ve never made that sound before.

Walter groans, he likes the sound you made if his hips grinding into you was anything to go by. He gives little kitten licks at the spot again and you melt under his touch.

“I can smell how much you need me, Pup,” he hums, sliding a hand to cup your clothed sex, “Fuck. I can feel the heat coming off of her–Shit,” He shakes his head, kissing your neck before sitting up and getting off the couch. “Looks like we have company.”

You lean up on your elbows, confused until you hear the monstrous rumble of a motorcycle engine getting closer. You watch as Walter opens the front door and disappears into the yard. Soon, you hear the symphony of howling and grunts. You get up from the couch and walk to the open door when you hear the growling get louder.

From the doorway, you see quite a display of masculinity. Two grown men wrestle in the grass like children, laughing and shouting at each other until they register your presence. 

The taller of the two sniffs the air and turns toward you, climbing off of Walter. His piercing green eyes almost seem to glow. A wild mane of dark brown waves with bleached ends frames a masculine face, and a healthy beard outlines full lips. His caramel skin is littered with tattoos from the neck down, a slit in his left eyebrow.

A dark grey v-neck under a vest hugs his built chest, while thick thighs are encased in tight-fitting jeans. A pair of old boots cover his feet, the laces left untied. His long fingers are decorated with a handful of ornate rings and one wrist sports a leather braided bracelet with a wolf charm hanging from it.

His meaty arms cross over his chest and his face splits with a devilish grin, his body is almost bouncing with energy. “Who’s your new friend, Marshall?”

To be continued...

A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter is already outlined. And just needs to be written. I have a plan, y’all.

A/N 2: Bonus points if you can guess my face-claim for Jace.

**Tag List**

@deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @milknhonies @peyton-warren @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @cardierreh15 @viking-raider @imaslutforcuddles @ilovetaquitosmmmm @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell @calwitch @meanlilbean @samahenoyrhye @openup-yourmind @juliaorpll78 @princessaxoo @toooldforobsessions @carrie80reads @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @evansabove1981 @used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hannah9921 @mayloma @inlovewith-books @fluffy-little-demon @caramariehurst @gummydummy19 @jvanilly @livisss @sofiebstar @posiemax

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 If your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #werewolf!walter marshall #night hunter au #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you

[see-arcane]

What do you think each person from the drac pack would dress up as for Halloween?

Jonathan and Mina are a couple’s costume, no question. Gomez and Morticia Addams are the likeliest bet.

Lucy goes for a dramatique Shakespearean look. Ophelia or one of Macbeth’s witches.

Jack tries to play himself off as too mature for such things, but does ultimately crack and go for a Victor Frankensteinish look, complete with streaks, antique attire, and a (hopefully prop) bone saw.

Arthur is still very much Not one for scary style, so probably a more pop cultural costume. He likes going as superheroes, but sticks more with the comic book designs rather than movie versions. He doesn’t like how watered down the cinematic outfits look.

Quincey opts for subtler looks as he doesn’t like any getup he can’t easily maneuver in. He’s usually one to wear his own clothes, but with makeup jobs that make him ‘himself, but something happened.’ This results in Cowboy Ghost/Werewolf/Zombie/Alien etc.

Van Helsing is addicted to silly mascot costumes. Specifically because he likes to be on trick-or-treater duty and wants a friendly-silly character to greet the little kids at the door.

Renfield flips a coin between a stunning stage-ready reproduction of a Doctor Faustus costume or a chef. The latter’s props are…interesting. (He considers the night a win when Jack looks at the menu in his hand and reads what/who the main course is.)

BONUS:

Dracula cheats by dusting off his old warlord raiment and/or armor. He gets several compliments on the design and the realism of the maroon stains.

The Weird Sisters oddly avoid going as their namesakes. Straws are drawn between going as Jennifer Check, Tomie, and a Bride of Frankenstein with a severed Creature head for a purse.

#halloween #jonathan harker #mina harker #lucy westenra #jack seward #arthur holmwood #arthur godalming #quincey morris #abraham van helsing #r.m. renfield #dracula #brides if dracula #the weird sisters #dracula daily #re: dracula

[angelsworks]

Nowhere to Hyde 1 Dark! Tyler Galpin x reader

1

Type: series

Requested: N/A

Summary: At his day job where he masquerades as just a Barista, Tyler meets his mate in the form of the new student at Nevermore.

Warnings: mature 18+ only. dark!Tyler, with yandere themes. Eventually the themes will get darker. Possessiveness, adult themes

Being a new student at Nevermore you were unsure of the people around you. The student body was split into social groups, often reflecting which species they were. For you, someone who didn’t fit that, it made it increasingly hard to find friends. You had no idea where to begin with navigating this strange new school you’d been sent to.

However you quickly caught up with the help of Enid, a friendly and extremely bubbly werewolf. She told you all about the groups on campus, and the history of all the couples, and the teachers, and the rumoured secret societies. It helped a lot to have someone like her around. You became fast friends. You lived close to her on campus and were able to visit often.

You bonded over many shared interest. While you weren’t as preppy as Enid you did class yourself as an optimist. You had to be.

The reason you had been sent to Nevermore was because of your puzzling abilities. While you didn’t have green fingers literally, you did have control over nature. You’d only really experimented with small plants and flowers.

After it had all gone wrong, you’d been sent here. It was a simple mistake. You’d been growing a tree from a sapling to a fully grown adult in your backyard. It took a lot of energy and concentration. What you hadn’t realised is that you were being watched, as some of your fellow school mates shouted at you and jeered, you’d lost concentration.

You could only watch as the branches grew out of control, launching through the windows of your house. The kids in question ran away. Telling anyone who would listen. It put your parents in an awkward position. Although they themselves had strange abilities, it was made clear - you had to leave.

Enid kind of understood what it was like to not fit in. She herself struggled with her lack of Lycan abilities.

When you heard she had a new roommate coming, you both looked forward to seeing a new face. That new face however didn’t look forward to seeing you. Wednesday was bold and honest. She didn’t hold back on anything she said. Her rawness drove people away and in truth it almost drove you and Enid away. But over a couple of weeks you grew as close as you could to the girl. Even though that wasn’t very close.

Over those weeks you and Wednesday talked over the case, leading to new discoveries down the road of Joseph Crackstone, Goody Addams, the case of crazy Rowan and the all too happy therapist. Enid tried not to listen, she thought the both of you crazy and paranoid. Although as time ticked on even she couldn’t deny that something was going on in Nevermore and in Jericho.

You made some serious break throughs, one of those being the discovery of a creature called the Hyde.

You’d kept in contact with your parents, using your weekly phone call to ask about the Hyde creature that seemed a mystery to all. Surprisingly your family had a history with the beast. Dating back generations. You asked for all the information they had to be sent over in the post.

After reviewing it you went to meet Wednesday and at the weathervane.

Tyler was the Hyde, that much was true. He’s been working with Marilynn Thornhill; against his will as it was, to act out her plan to rid Jericho of outcasts.

Trapped as the Hyde and alone with that knowledge had made Tyler paranoid. Paranoid someone would find out, take him away, or try to fix him.

While the murderous tendencies he faced while being the Hyde weren’t ideal, and neither was the blacking out, it made him feel alive. It gave him power he’d never had before.

It was just all being controlled by Thornhill.

His current job was to keep an eye on Wednesday and report back any discoveries she’d made. It was easy enough to do when she kept walking in to do her investigating at the Weathervane. The place he worked.

Sometimes she brought her little friends too. The werewolf, Enid, so bright it made his eyes hurt. The creep Xavier, his previous run ins with the guys had left a sour taste in his mouth.

To get close to Wednesday he’d had to feign some sort of interest in her and her dark ways, which hadn’t been easy. While she was pretty, she wasn’t his type and the hassle of dealing with Xavier would never be worth it.

Yet all his work seemed to have paid of because today she brought someone different. She brought someone new. She brought you.

As soon as you walked in, Tyler was hit by an overpowering scent. The scent so sweet it reminded him of summer. The flowery and vanilla scent engulfed his senses. For a minute he almost stumbled, making him grip the counter for support.

After becoming the Hyde he’d had an increase in his senses. His sight, hearing and smell had all become superhuman.

But no one smelt like you. He was ready to become the Hyde there and then. In the quiet coffee shop, in the normie village. Take you back to his cave and make you his, many time over.

The thoughts made him hot all over. It made blood flow to places he didn’t want it to flow to. It took a lot of deep breathing and some off putting images in his mind to calm his situation.

You sat with Wednesday, smiling brightly as you greeted her. A contrast to her blank stare and cold demeanour. Wednesday already had her drink, whereas you were left without one. This was his opportunity. The shop barely had an customers and those that were here were focusing on work for the most part.

He walked over to see you animatedly explaining something; smile bright, eyes gleaming, hands moving, lips so soft. By the time he’d walked over he had almost forgotten what he went over for.

“Tyler.” A monotone voice greeted.

The girls now stared at him, he needed to keep his cool.

“Wednesday, nice to see you again. And you are?”

You smiled, shooting out a hand for him to shake, “(Y/N), nice to meet you Tyler.”

Your skin was soft, so soft. Your touch send shivers down his spine. He wondered what it would feel like to have you hands on his cheek, in his hair, on his chest, on his -

He clears his throat, “What are you working on?”

“Classwork.” You lie. He can hear your heart beat faster as you struggle to make eye contact. You lied, and to him. But why?

He didn’t let it show on his face, but he was disappointed. Did you not feel what he felt.

“Ah, can I get you a drink or anything?”

Your smile returned and he was grateful, “oh just a (Y/D) please.”

He left to make your drink. Trying again to cool his blood flow.

You took out the old book your family had sent you. Explaining to Wednesday that your family had a history with discovering creatures. The Hyde had a whole chapter in the ancient book. Covering its appearance, it’s behaviour, it’s habitat, it’s mating rituals.

When you asked your parents how your ancestors knew such things they told you that they had close connections with them. Your mothers great great grandmother had been mated to one. Much different to being married to one.

For a Hyde, their abilities often made them uncontrollable. Their infliction occurred from a mutation and would only be triggered by a traumatic event, chemical inducement or hypnosis. Yet when under the control of a master this was rectified.

“So the Hyde is only part of our mystery, we’re looking for a Hyde and it’s Master.” Wednesday stated.

You nodded, smiling politely as you saw Tyler coming over. You shut the book moving it aside.

He placed your drink on the table.

“Thank you Tyler.” You smiled, meeting his eyes.

“No problem, are you working on the case?” He asked.

Wednesday flips her eyes up to Tyler, “Yes we’re researching the Hyde.”

Your eyes widen and they switch between Wednesday and Tyler. She sees your confusion, “Tyler knows about the case.”

“Oh.” You pull your book back out, opening it on the right page.

Tyler looks it over, not having to fake his interest this time. The pages are way past yellow, adorned with brown dust.

Pictures of the Hyde littered the page in various different mediums. Neat cursive writing annotating certain parts of the anatomy. He’s intrigued how you know so much; or how you’ve gotten such an old book about him.

Even Thornhill has little to no idea about Hydes, she just knows how to control them.

“Wow this book looks ancient, where did you find it?”

You explain it’s a family heirloom that’s been passed down and added to. You miss out that you have slight Hyde heritage.

Still you scent is intoxicating and when you move your hair from your shoulders it wafts more his way.

“That is interesting, what have you found?”

“Just a few things about the Hyde really. What it’s triggered by, where it lives, it’s mating process.”

Now that, that caught his attention.

“Really, a mating process . It’s like you’ve got a guide to the Hyde right there.”

Wednesdays eyes widened a fraction, realising that with slight Hyde heritage, it could be you. You noticed her change in demeanour, frowning.

“Are you okay Wednesday?” You asked , concerned.

She nodded, stiff as a board - not all that unusual for the girl, “I forgot I was meeting Xavier later today. You’ll have to excuse me.”

With that she leaves, making you sigh. You don’t know how your going to find your way back to Nevermore now.

Tyler moves to sit in the booth opposite. Analysing your appearance. From your eyes that sparkle in the light, to your hair that shimmers and your hands grip your (Y/D).

“Hey, if you don’t mind I’d love to learn more about the Hyde. Any chance you don’t mind sticking around for a bit?”

“No, not at all.” You smile. And he’s sure he’ll never grow tired of seeing it.

“Great, I finish in 20 minutes. Then I’ll be over.”

Tyler walks back over to the counter. Formulating a plan in his head of how he’s going to get to you. Here you were naive to the fact that he was the Hyde, with a book all about him.

He knew he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon.

#Wednesday #tyler galpin x reader #dark!tyler galpin x reader #yandere wednesday #series

[thefantasyden]

Thanks for stopping by~ ♡

If you would like to learn more about me, my content, or my request guidelines, please open this post.

I post fake texts, reactions, drabbles, and full fics (anywhere between 1500 and 6000 words). My texts are most commonly split between Hyung Line and Maknae Line, and they can vary quite a bit on how raunchy they are.

I'm very kink friendly and have been an active member of the bdsm community for 5+ years so I do not shy away from the vast majority of kinks, but they will always be written as realistically as possible. This means if you request heavier kinks or kinks that are on the deeper end of safety risks, I will do my best to write negotiation and consent checks into the story. I know we all love heavy fantasy content, but I personally will not write themes that imply any character is doing something against their own free will. I WILL, however, consider writing heavier themes if it is an idea that really sparks my interest.

I do not write anything involving character death or heavy angst, but I will write things along the lines of Yandere themes and criminal acts. Anything that does not involve the reader or main character being unwilling or having violent acts committed against them is fair game.

I do not write for ships, but I will write certain points of mxm interaction if it benefits the story (such as threesomes etc.)

I am VERY enthusiastic about fantasy creatures and will HAPPILY write your kinky werewolf fanfic if you ask nicely! I also won't shy away from A/B/O dynamics if you're so inclined... or hybrids. I love me some hybrids.

If you're unsure about whether I'd be willing to write your request, please take a look at my list below of wills and wonts. If you don't see what you want on there, shoot me a message or an ask.

Ult group: Stray Kids

Bias: ♡♡Changbin♡♡

Wrecker: Seungmin

Personality: I have been described as Spicy, Witty and Dog Coded. I love deeply and aggressively and usually communicate that through being cheeky, flirty and a little bit of a bully to the people I'm giving affection too.

Personal Account: @bunniebinnie for kpop, @bunniedreams for the uhhhh horny kinky stuff

Favourite Song now: Last Breath - Mark Tuan

Favourite Colour: Pastel Yellow (true yellow, not the orange or green tinted yellows)

Favourite Book: Ultraviolet

Hobbies: writing, photography, collecting plush toys, gaming, drawing

Age: 25 years old

For the astrology hotties: Libra sun, Aquarius moon, Pisces rising

Pet peeve: The sound of chewing gum

How long have I been writing: I have been writing fanfic for about 7 years. I had 2 old blogs, one dedicated to nct and one for stray kids, but I chose to start over after an extended hiatus (moving, work, life).

You may recognise some of the content here, and if you do, please feel free to ask. I will never copy another persons work, but I may repost some of my old work that I enjoyed with some edits.

Do you write cnc?

A: Depends on the context, but generally, I will say yes as long as there is no violence (oitside of impact play) and I can write it with negotiation and context.

Is your favourite content to write?

A: I really like doing drabbles and anything Hybrid related. I love hybrids. Have I mentioned that I love hybrids¿

Do you only write Sub Reader?

A: Nope! I'm a switch through and through so I will write whatever role the people are interested in!

Do our request have to have kink in them?

A: Not at all! I love wholesome vanilla content just as much as the messed up spicy stuff.

How do we send requests?

A: Just jump into my ask box and ramble your idea to me. You can be as detailed or vague as you want, but please include if you want it to be written without the use of pronouns!

Why do you add banners to everything?

A: I just think they're fun! I like my cute lil doodles.

Do you have any other blogs?

A: ooft, quite a few! @thefantasydenarchives for all my asks and polls, etc so I can keep this blog somewhat organised, @bunniebinnie is for my kpop fic recs and anything else kpop related, @markmein for my NCT content (needs work) and @bunniedreams for my personal stuff

Will write:

Edge play kinks, fictional creatures (hybrids, werewolves, ghosts), ot8 scenarios, threesomes and anything above a threesome, dubious consent, unhinged member x reader, violence NOT committed against reader, ftm reader, marijuana use.

Will not write:

Pregnant reader, lactation kink, barely legal, high school, young reader x much older member and vice versa, dad stray kids, parent reader, hard drug use, violence against reader, character death, heavy angst, cheating.

[bonny-kookoo]

I‘m in love with into the wild! Could we get a Drabble where Jungkook is a baby werewolf pretty pretty please? He’s just so captivating with his eyes *faints dramatically*

"Its hard to believe he'll be an alpha." His mother laughs as the still slightly unsteady toddler tries to climb a tree with his chubby hands- miserably failing, though never giving up.

As a mere pup, jungkook is still sporting wolf ears on top of his head, and a fluffy little tail peeks out from his jean overalls. He'll grow out of those features soon once he learns to shift properly- but for now, he's just exploring the world.

He doesn't know yet that outside of these woods, he will be hated and judged.

"Not just an alpha." His father says, hands in his pockets as he watches his son try to prop up one of his feet against the bark of the tree- but there's no chance, so he instead looks around to try and find something else to climb up on, though he gets distracted by a large tree branch on the ground instead, small arms needing a lot of strength to hold it up.

"We don't know that yet. He's too young to tell properly." His mother declines softly, watching how the young boy runs with the stick towards the other pups of the pack to show it off.

"I'm pretty sure though." His father chuckles. "He's gonna grow up well here. The Kim's have a very good territory here, safe and cut off from the city." He says, soberly watching his pup play around with the older boys, unaware of what's to come.

"Do you think he'll hate us?" His mother asks, but his father shakes his head.

"He might hold some grudge against us for a while, like every teenager does as a wolf. But he'll understand once he grows older." His father says. "It's for the best. We can't raise him in the city." He declines, and Jungkook's mother agrees.

"He'll do well here." She nods, watching her son swap his stick for a smaller one he can handle better with a boy who seems a bit older, cheeks chubby and eyes friendly. "He'll be safe from humans." She nods.

And growing up, he learns not to hate his parents like other wolfblood children might.

He visits them regularly, but grows up in the safety of the forest- learns most of what he needs ro know from teachers of nearby packs, goes to a public school twice a week, but mostly learns how to control his inner wolf to the best of his abilities.

And just like his parents knew, he does well in the forest, in his newfound pack now led by Namjoon, the seven young wolves given a big chunk of territory just for themselves to learn and grow and live until the next generation arrives, and the cycle continues anew.

In the future ahead, maybe.

But for now, he's just a kid- living life far away from the judgement of humans.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #werewolf jungkook

[wolfsetfree-if]

I just wanna have a friendly chat with MC old pack *hides shotgun behind back* we're gonna have one blast of a talk.

but in all seriousness it's kinda mess up MC just abandoned them, like I wonder if abandoning a pack member - no matter how weak - is look down among the werewolf community.

It is. But as with human communities, some pack can have toxic dynamics, disfunctional members or shouldn't ever have kids. This was the case for MC's old pack.

Absndoning a barely adult pup was cruel, even more so because werewolves are quite rare and it's difficult to find other packs. Werewolves are also such social acreatures that they can slowly die if left alone as a stray for too long.

#ask #mc

[grilde1chesse]

wtf is up the weird portrayal of werewolves in pop media?⁉️

i think it would be so so so cool to see some werewolf novel like ACTUALLY based off wolf pack behavior, instead of whatever weird sexualized idea the medias turned it into. an actual wolf pack would never be able to function with like a billion alphas constantly attacking each other for females attention. animals fhat fight to mate don’t even do that. wolves wouldn’t have survived as long as they have if this weird concept we have shoved onto them was actually accurate.

wolves RARELY fight within a pack, and are incredibly social animals. majority of wolf fights happen over territory, and within neighboring packs, though they avoid confrontation or aggression with other wolves when necessary. they’re actually pretty goddamn intelligent too, they’re actually better at independent problem solving than dogs. they know not to mate with siblings or offspring to avoid inbreeding and just overtime mutation.

this weird idea that a werewolf would be a secluded horn dog that wants nothing but a mate is not only weird but wildly inaccurate. wolves are pack animals, and so are humans. lone wolves will occasionally attempt to join other packs even.

if there was a werewolf in your neighborhood they’d probably be those super friendly neighbors who are always throwing parties and bbqs and have like 10 kids with like half of them being adopted. they’d be at every sports game or band concert, with the bleachers filled out by this one massive family. wolves mate to breed, in other words they mate to have children, to start families. wolf packs are literally just families.

werewolves would be the family with like 10 goddamn kids always rough housing, with a billion pictures on the fridge and family photos and shitty framed art from when the kids were puppies all over the walls.

there’s too much of the stereotypical alpha wolf claiming some poorly written female protagonist and attacking members of his own pack for her. what about werewolf packs with adopted kids they’ve claimed as theirs? kids friends being treated like members of the family, and so many school prizes and pictures all over the walls no matter how old they are. magic using kids who’s parents can’t handle it, or queer kids who have been kicked out being picked up by them. queer werewolves. werewolf kids with a friend from an unwanted family being unofficially adopted by the pack. so many dog jokes. werewolves working at daycares, as doctors, werewolves living normal human lives with no weird hypermasculine stuff going on. werewolf packs having their plans center around the next full moon, treating it like some anual holiday where they all go out for the night. non werewolf kids never being left out on full moon nights. non wolf kids riding on the transformed adults backs, dog pulled sleds in the winter. the bathroom smelling kinda like a wet dog, with fur in the drain. paw print vs hand print art made by pups framed and hung around the house. a wall dedicated just to measuring their pack of kids height. werewolves falling for humans and just snuggling up with them during full moon nights. domestic werewolf lives‼️

#werewolf #shitpost #rambles #werewolves #wolves #headcanon #fanfic ideas

[caitlynskitten]

Imma need some more of jealous Enid-

The Werewolf and the Psychic

The werewolf, siren and the vampire hang out at their usual spot at the Nevermore fountain. While Yoko and Divina are engaging in their favorite pass time; making out, Enid couldn’t be bothered because of what she sees in front of her.

There the werewolf finds her Raven partner AGAIN talking to Luna the psychic. She groans as she watches the two enjoy each others conversations. Though she can’t hear what they’re saying, seeing them both smiling sends Enid into a frenzy.

Divina notices her friend staring and pulls away from Yoko’s lips for a moment.

Divina: You know the longer you stare, the more they’ll fall in love.

Yoko, lightly punching Divina’s arm: That’s not funny, D!

Divina: Jesus it’s a joke. Look at her, it’s like she wants to rip Luna’s head clean off.

Enid: I just don’t see what she sees in her. Why is she laughing? What makes her so interesting?

Divina: Maybe it’s because of her abilities.

Yoko, punching Divina again but harder: Seriously, not funny.

Divina: God that fucking hurt, babe.

Enid: Wait maybe you’re right.

Yoko, quickly grabbing Enid’s arm: Babe, don’t do it. She was kidding. Besides she said she’s new to her powers!

Enid: Exactly! Maybe she’s not doing it on purpose! You know what I mean? Maybe she’s using her psychic ability to control her emotions!

Divina: I don’t even think that’s how it works, babe.

Enid, pulls her arm away from Yoko: Oh god I have to stop her before it’s too late!

Divina and Yoko now onto holding Enid’s arms and trying to not let her go

Divina: Okay I’m sorry, cruel joke. I’m really sorry but seriously you shoulnt do anything you’ll regret.

Yoko: She’s probsbly just being friendly. Obviously Wednesday isn’t going to do anything with her, she’s too attached to you.

Enid, on the verge of tears: It’s not her I’m worried about. It’s Luna.

As soon as Wednesday and Luna’s conversation ended, she heads over to the girls. Luna walks in another direction.

Before the raven could utter a word to them Enid quickly jumps out of her seat and gives her a tight hug.

Enid: Willa!! I’m so happy to see you!

Wednesday embraces the hug and kisses her girlfriends cheek: I didn’t know you missed me this much, darling. I love you.

Enid: I love you too.

Divina: Jesus, get a room you two

#wednesday #wenclair #wednesday addams #jenna ortega #enid sinclair #the addams family #incorrect wenclair #incorrect wednesday #incorrect wednesday quotes #incorrect quotes #wednesday incorrect quotes #wenid #yokovina

[teencopandthesourwolf]

WEEKEND WIP

from my current derek pov sterek wip with the working title of 'RED RAG TO A WOLF'

.

He knew it was there the moment the sliding door to his apartment clicked shut; the moment everybody left. The pack hadn't even made it down the old service elevator when Derek sensed it, scenting the spicy-sweetness that clung to the cool air, stubborn as a fever—and far too strong considering the loft's now-empty status.

Granted, he didn't know exactly what ‘it’ was yet, only that something of the kid's had been left behind.

He spotted it as soon as he turned around.

Derek breathed in, deeply, and anger flared brightly in his gut. He was fuming at just how damn happy that warming scent made him, and how it seemed like he now had his very own aromatic keepsake just to fucking prove it.

This was bad.

Dangerous.

Rooted to the spot, Derek cautiously eyed the innocuous folds of red spilling over the top of those stupid pillows Stiles had talked him into buying, his teeth and fists clenching (along with his heart).

They'd bumped into each other a while back—quite literally—in Bed Bath & Beyond when Stiles had turned a corner wearing those stupid lime-green headphones, and slammed right into Derek.

There'd been an excessively loud exclamation of, “What the shit?” and then, “Derek?!” as Stiles removed the headphones and nestled them snugly around the base of his long, pale neck, Bigmouth Strikes Again by The Smiths still appropriately blasting through them.

Stilinski had then cracked up and whooped like a hyena for almost a full minute straight, apparently at the mere notion of Derek's presence in the store.

“You? In a place like this? But Der, you're like, a werewolf, dude! A creature of the night!” he's said, and had punctuated the assessment by curling his bendy body into a ridiculous monster-esque mime, crossing his wide eyes and letting his tongue loll out of the side of his mouth as he’d gargled his own spit in some sort of supposed gnarly roar.

Just as Derek had been considering how Stiles sounded a bit like a traumatised washing machine, the kid had burst into yet more fits of mocking laughter, doubling over this time while wiping his mouth with the back of one hand and clutching at his side with the other.

What was so hilarious about someone needing to buy a toilet roll holder was honestly still a complete fucking mystery to Derek, but whatever.

At the time, he'd wanted to howl and snap his jaws at the kid for his sass. But Derek's general rule of thumb these days was to try his level best to not get so uptight about the more inane concepts that weaved in and out of Stiles Stilinski's baffling brain on a millisecond-to-millisecond basis, nor to give him any fuel for his ever-burning Sourwolf fire. So he'd nonchalantly raised an eyebrow and given back as good as he got by saying, “Which means what, exactly? That I'm only supposed to shop at PetSmart at three AM for my monthly supply of rabbit flavoured kibble?” and told himself not to dwell on it.

Then instead of doing the decent thing and leaving Derek the hell alone to get on with his Saturday afternoon, Stiles had proceeded to follow him around the store because the Beacon Hills Friendly-Yet-Hyperactive Neighbourhood Sheriff's Kid was just kind of excessively infuriating like that.

Stiles had disappeared for a moment, then reappeared and proceeded to thrust a shopping cart towards Derek, insisting Derek needed it for the random shit he’d started selecting from the various displays and unceremoniously dumping into the wire basket on wheels; random shit he was also insisting Derek needed. Derek proceeded to remove all unnecessary items right after Stiles dropped each of them in, the kid either not caring enough to challenge him on it or simply none the wiser amid his animated spiel about someone named, “Marie frickin Kondo, man!”

Apart from the pillows.

Apparently, Derek didn't hate the super-soft (if stupidly named) ‘Wolf-Skin’ material covering the particular pillows Stiles had picked out for him when the puzzling human had gasped and crowed, “Oh my God, Derek, can you believe they're named Wolf-Skin? They are totally perfect for you! And even more importantly: They spark joy, dude!”

Whatever the fuck that meant.

.

#sterek wip #sterek fic #pov derek #derek hale #stiles stilinki #red rag to a wolf #cassidy wips #ooh er #lol #weekend wip #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve x Eddie Werewolf AU

Part One

Part Two

Steve hadn't intended to be the Alpha werewolf of a capitol P Pack.

Of course, he hadn't planned on discovering an entire hell dimension hiding under Hawkins either so it was safe to say most of his predetermined life plans had gone totally sideways.

Now, as he stood amongst his friends, his family, who were once again gearing up to fight something they shouldn't have too, he couldn't keep his eyes off the odd wolf out.

Except Eddie "the freak" Munson wasn't out of place--and that was the problem. 

Steve watched as he tussled with Dustin, the serious edge that had been clinging to the younger boy's shoulders disappearing as Eddie tackled him to the ground, cackling. 

It made them look their ages for once. 

"Are you thinking about bringing him into the Pack?" Robin asked as she poured more gasoline into a bottle, ever observant. 

Steve didn't bother playing dumb. No point, with her. "I was going to offer, yeah. Before we go back into the Upside Down." 

Robin hummed softly, setting the bottle aside for a moment. 

"Would give him way better protection against Vecna." Steve said, as if that was reason enough to claim Eddie, and not like he hadn't basically adopted the guy since the older wolf stuck a bottle against his throat. 

Which in turn had made Steve's own wolf wake up and take notice.

He'd thought he was going to have to fight off the urge to shift, form his hands into claws and  tear into Munson. Instead what he’d gotten was a confusing tangle of approval, admiration and his ever present urge to protect coming out in full force. 

It wasn't his fault he'd immediately noticed the sheer fear rolling off Eddie, and how he'd overcome it to fight anyway. 

How he trembled as he knelt down, his wolf staring out of his eyes, but never once lost control. 

Listened to Dustin, and respected the kid enough to calm down for him, even though the younger boy was really the only person Eddie knew was truly friendly, let alone trustworthy staring him down in that shed. 

Then came all the sass, how he lit up when Steve brought him his favorite foods. The dramatic way he'd crooned and hugged Steve, like the act of giving a box of honeycombs was akin to a proposal. 

(Of course, for Steve, it was.

One that he and his wolf made together.

An offering of family. Of protection, safety and love. 

The decision wasn't just his to make, though and he knew it. 

It never had been.

Steve might have been raised by snide, old school Werewolves, born and bred to do things the traditional way, but all tradition had ever done was hurt him in ways he had sworn to never pass on to his own packmates.)  

"It would also give him a home with people who know and understand what going through all this does to you." Robin added softly, leaning into Steve's side and putting her head on his shoulder. "I definitely needed that. After Starcourt."

Steve put the bottle he was working on down next to Robin's, then leaned his head atop hers. 

"We all did." He agreed.

"Plus he fits in." Steve didn't have to see her face to feel her smirk as Eddie went to pull on Dustin’s underwear, cackling madly as Dustin shrieked and called him a cheater. 

 "But you already knew that."

Steve smiled. "The kids love him, yeah." 

He got an elbow to the gut for that one. 

"Not what I meant dingus, and you know it." She pulled her head back, only so she could look onto Steve's face. "That boys been flirting with you since you brought him beer." 

Steve sputtered. 

"I've had to bear witness to the Harrington charm before, don't think I didn't see it in action the other day." Robin poked him in the cheek with a finger. "Just because you're a bit more reserved when it comes to flirting with guys doesn't mean I didn't catch it.” 

Nancy walked up the hill, coming to sit down next to them as Steve sputtered. 

For once she didn't say a thing about how close Robin and Steve were sitting, instead opting to sit on Steve's open side. 

"Are we discussing claiming Eddie as part of the Pack?" She asked, causing Robin to give her a delighted grin. 

"We are indeed, my extremely smart friend." 

"No arguments from you then if I offer?" Steve asked. 

He wasn't going to bother asking the kids, he knew what their answer would be. 

The decisions were made among the elder pack members anyway, and would be until the kids reached an age were they could make decisions that didn’t constantly end in half of them getting killed, but with Jonathan out of the picture in California it came down just to Nancy and Robin. 

Nancy put her head in a hand, watching as Lucas and Erica became involved in the tussle with Eddie and Dustin. 

"No." She said, after a moment. 

'He's dominant, Nance." Steve warned, because the last thing he needed was to bring Eddie in only for a fight to break out over who would act as the Packs Second in Command. 

Nancy smiled, looking gentle as she tucked her legs up underneath her. "If he wants my position he can have it. The kids listen to him better anyway." 

“You're sure?” Steve asked. He knew she was, could feel through their bonds that she was, but he had to ask it. Needed to hear the confirmation. 

Nancy rolled her eyes at him. “Yes Steve. Now are you going to go get him, or are we going to wait for Vecna to spring something on us? Because for once it would be nice to add a pack member without some kind of threat forcing it.” 

Steve rolled his eyes back at her, but quietly agreed. 

“Make sure Robin doesn’t blow herself up making molotovs, would you?.” He asked as he stood, dusting grass and dirt off his pants.

Robin flipped him off. 

xXx

"Guys, I need to borrow Eddie for a second." Steve called as he approached, mostly to prevent anyone from turning on him at the last second and trying to physically drag him into their game. 

"Fine Steve, but I want him back as soon as you're done!" Dustin shouted, releasing his hold on Eddie’s jacket. 

The older wolf grinned. "Oh I'm sure Harrington will be gentle."

Steve rolled his eyes, but turned around when Eddie reached him, taking a meandering path back up to the winnebago.

"You can call me Steve, you know." He said as they walked. 

Eddie just jostled him with a grin, playfully bouncing on his feet. "Aww, but that's just no fun, Handsome!" 

Steve felt a blush burn at the tips of his ears, but kept kept it off his face. "Handsome works fine too." 

"So what're we talking about? Is this more Vecna plans? Stuff kiddies ears cannot hear?" 

Steve wobbled his hand back and forth. "Yes and no. It'll help with Vecna, but it's…more than that."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at him as the path Steve took them behind the van, well away from the kids and just out of sight of Robin and Nancy. 

"Well spit it out man, you're blue balling me here." 

"You're not part of a Pack, right?" Steve blurted out. It hadn’t been until this moment that he realized he'd never actually offered this to anyone, having always claimed someone either in an emergency or via the kids being pushy assholes. 

Offering a place in a Pack was a big deal, but given the nature of his, Steve felt he earned the ability to say his was beyond special. The people he invited into it were as well, and they deserved to be asked properly. 

Eddie deserved to be asked, properly. 

The same Eddie who blinked at his question, then laughed.

It wasn’t a nice laugh.

“What do you think? No one wanted me before I was the town murderer, and even if I survive this shit?” He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret. “Absolutely no ones going to want me now.” 

Steve frowned at him, startled. 

Caught how Eddie’s scent changed right before he got a handle on it, reeling his emotions in before the sadness soaking his words became obvious. 

”That’s not--no--right, okay.” Steve huffed, frustrated at himself. “Any Pack would be lucky to have you, Eddie. They’d be stupid to buy the murderer crap.” 

Eddie scoffed. “I think you of all people should know anyone would be stupid to take me on.” 

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m a dumbass then.” He responded, before mentally kicking himself. 

He was fumbling. He knew he was fumbling, and a part of him wanted to groan aloud. 

This was not how this was supposed to go. He was getting Dustin to write him a speech, stat. 

On second thought, maybe he’d have Nancy write it. 

"What?” Eddie asked, but it was flat, the playfulness gone. Now there was apprehension in those big eyes of his, and fumbling or not, proper or not, Steve wasn’t having it.  

Not for the guy his kids adored. Not for the one who had leapt into a lake after him to fend off bats, and then complimented him after.

"I'm saying I want-- I'd love to have you in mine." 

A pause. 

"My uh, my Pack." Steve clarified in the growing silence, like it wasn’t obvious. 

Eddie stared at him. 

Steve was blowing this. He was absolutely and totally blowing this, and he was going to workshop a whole damn spiel the next time this happened. (Not that he ever wanted to claim anyone else. Damn Pack was already too big.) 

"I'm offering to claim you." He added dumbly, when Eddie didn't say anything. 

"I'm dominant, Steve." The older wolf deadpanned. "Not enough to gun for your position--and frankly man after seeing your warrior form rip those damn bats in half I don't think anyone in Hawkins is dominant enough to take you--but." 

Eddie worked his jaw, looked away. "I'd definitely be a problem for your current rankings."

As if Steve hadn’t already figured that out. 

"Nancy has agreed to step down as Second." Steve told him, glad he'd had the forethought to have an answer to a problem for once.  

Eddie gave him a disbelieving look. "Nancy, "more guns than sense--and she has a lot of sense" Wheeler agreed to bow out of being the Pack's second? For me?" 

"For you." Steve agreed, knowing the implication that Nancy found him worthy to succeed her, would make Eddie blush. "If it helps though I think you're doing her a favor. I worry a lot about the kids and I think she's tired of riding herd on them. She's happy stepping down.” 

"All of the power, none of the administrative overhead." Eddie agreed vaguely, fiddling with his rings. His hair swung down to cover part of his face as he stared hard at his hands. 

"Which means of course, means you get to help cart around the kids." Steve tried to grin at him, hoping they were getting back onto firmer ground. 

"I see how it is, you're bringing me in for my van." Eddie said, as if he hadn't ditched his vehicle halfway in the woods. 

His voice was off though. 

It wasn’t until Eddie made the mistake of glancing up that Steve saw how wet his eyes were. The tears he was holding back through force of will alone. 

"I'm wanted for murder, Steve." Eddie whispered, voice pained. "I can't drag the kids down with me. I can't drag any of you down with me. I'm not worth that." 

And oh, fuck that. 

One hundred percent fuck that. 

"You are absolutely worth it." Steve said fiercely, the hesitant, careful energy gone. Replaced entirely by the protective streak he was known for, the assuredness that had made him a good team captain and a better Alpha werewolf. 

 "And I hate to break it to you, but you're not even our first fugitive. So unless you can give me a solid excuse, Munson, then I expect you to accept." 

That got him. 

 “You’re serious.” Eddie said, and it wasn’t a question. He stared full on into Steve’s eyes now, a challenge for a werewolf. This though, wasn’t one, and Steve’s wolf didn’t react negatively. 

Knew instinctively, that he was being searched for any hint of a lie. 

“When it comes to this? To you?” Steve found himself gravitating closer, honesty bleeding through every pore. “I will always be serious.” 

A sniff, followed by a quiet huff of laughter as Eddie rubbed his eyes on his sleeve. "Shit, you sure know how to make a guy feel special." 

"You are special.” Steve fired back. “That’s why I want you.” 

It should have been we, as in we The Pack, want you, but Steve would examine where the “I” came from later. 

“If--if you’re sure you won’t regret it…” Eddie trailed off, shyly holding out his hand as his face blushed scarlet. 

Steve took it, offering a customary kiss to the hand with bare knuckles before tugging him closer. “I will never regret meeting you, Edward Munson.” Steve told him, eyes rolling gold as his wolf took a mental step forward. 

Not to overtake him, but to combine with him, to put the two halves of his souls back together in a way that only the strongest could. 

“You would honor us should you accept our offer to be Pack.” That was him and the wolf talking together, the formal way his wolf spoke taking over Steve’s more lax language. 

“God you’re unreal.” Eddie choked out, a wobbly smile taking over his face. “Ask me again. Formally and shit.” 

Steve grinned. 

Formal he could do. 

'Thank you asshole parents, for assuming I'd be an Alpha and making me take the etiquette classes.' 

Left hand went on Eddie's shoulder, right hand brushed his hair back before going a supportive hold at his waist. 

Eddie sucked in a breath, scent mixing both with awe and fear. 

Steve's wolf didn't like the former, set about immediately to soothe.

'Mine.' It whispered in their head. Unusual, if only because it usually laid claim with a solid "Ours" but Steve wasn't going to question it. 

Vecna had done a number on him, as a Pack leader. He'd earned his wolf being a bit odd for the day. 

He opened the door in his h

"Edward Munson," Steve said, knowing his eyes were pulsating gently with wolf gold as he leaned forward to touch foreheads with Eddie. 

"We ask you to aid this Pack as one of its members. Defend those bound to you, as they in turn will defend you, so long as you run with us?”

Eddie breathed in shallowly, once.

Twice. 

"Yes." He whispered, as if speaking louder would make Steve take the offer back. 

Steve pulled on the Pack's Magic, felt it build within him, an invisible pressure that flickered to life as yellow electricity dancing out of his eyes, down his teeth. 

He moved to the point where Eddie's neck met his shoulder, fangs extending, long in his mouth. 

“Through bite and blood, I claim you as Pack.”

Steve gently kissed the spot once, before sinking his fangs deep. Channeling the magic he’d built deep into Eddie’s skin, directing it instinctively down and around Eddie’s chest. Arks of energy engulfed them both, a vibrant red magic rising to meet Steve’s yellow.

Eddie arched into the contact, but his neck remained in Steve;s mouth, body language submissive. 

Magic pulsed like a live wire, growing visible around them in Steve's signature yellow, cackling across his skin to Eddie's and back. The two colors danced together for a moment, weaving and combining, until a bond was forged to the Pack. 

The bond finished and Eddie went limp, knees giving out underneath him.

Having been prepared for just that, Steve held him close, before lowing them both to the ground. 

Slowly he removed his fangs, the pack magic sealing the wound it left behind, with one long, careful lick. 

“I’ve got you." He murmured as Eddie shook violently for a moment, gasping like a drowning man seeking air as the bond settled. “I’ve got you.” 

For now, and for as long as Eddie would have him and his Pack.

#annnd we're officially goin out of order LOL #its cool its just like the Duffer Bros Two Days Later time skip! #steve harrington #werewolf steve harrington #Hungry verse #eddie munson #werewolf eddie munson #werewolf AU #not a/b/o #more paranormal romance #steddie #steve x eddie #claiming #claiming through a bite #hurt/comfort #sorta #0o0 fanfics