#kiba x you

[aaizawashouta]

Wild

pairing: kiba x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: he's got your sent memorized. it's burned into his senses, his soul. there is no escaping him.

warnings: smut (18+, minors dni), softdom!kiba, p in v, cream pie

a/n: i had an idea. i liked it. this came out so much softer than i imagined. so here it is. enjoy!

Run.

It wakes you from your sleep. Drenched in sweat but still freezing, gooseflesh rising on your skin. It digs its nails into your consciousness. The only thing that makes sense is your sense of self preservation. You know better than to ignore your gut feeling — that fight or flight instinct. It’s late, no one sees you and your hurried steps leaving your home. Heavy breathing drowned out by the roaring storm around you. It’s your only saving grace, maybe enough to drown out your scent. You're dressed in nothing but a tank top and shorts, the wind whips your hair around your face angrily.

You disappear in the forest, holding your breath as if that would save you. But he’s got your scent memorized. It’s burned into his senses, his very soul. There is no escaping him. Kiba always finds you.

There is no time out here. You don’t know how long you’ve got until he’s on you. There’s no light, barely even a sliver of the moon. A hiss is ripped from you when branches start to tear at your skin. That isn’t good. Fuck. You can’t focus on anything other than moving forward. Breath choppy, hands pushing brush and tree branches out of the way. You're zigzagging, it’s exhausting, but it’ll keep him on his toes. The rain stings, pelting down on your exposed skin.

A grumble comes from beside you, hiding in the dense forest. Your heart drops into your stomach. There’s no way. You don’t think you’ll make it out alive this time. Lightning flashes and you see him — the giant beast beside you. Relief and dread fills you. Akamaru keeps pace with you, never letting you out of his sight. He’s been staying with you more now that he’s getting older. Or maybe it’s because Kiba feels better knowing that he’s there watching over you. Whatever it is, it’s turned Akamaru into your new best friend. Your shadow if only because you also belong to Kiba.

Akamaru grumbles again, breaking away from you. You whimper as you watch him. Would he lead Kiba straight to you? That’d ruin the game, you think. That’s what this is — a game. There are moments you have to remind yourself of that. He’s the predator and you're the prey, but he’d die before he’d ever hurt you. This was your idea after all.

“It’s okay if you run, bunny. It’s the thrill of the hunt that makes me crave you. Just remember, once I find you, your little game is over.”

So preoccupied with Akamaru and the game, you slip in the mud, your shin shredding itself on a jagged boulder. The scent of your blood was going to drive him mad. How can you possibly get away in these conditions? Cursing under your breath, you hobble along, eyes roaming around you. It’s in the air — even with the storm. The forest has gone silent.

He’s here.

Stay calm. Controlling your breathing you creep into a dense area, somewhere safe to hide for now. You would have missed it if you hadn't fallen. At least there was that to be thankful for.

“Little bunny rabbit goes hop, hop, hop.”

It’s sickening how his voice echoes around you. Hidden in the dark, dancing with the rain. Your blood is warm against your rain soaked skin as it runs down your leg. You have to bite back a whimper as your eyes rake through the dark. He’s baiting you, waiting for you to fall for the false sense of safety. As if you honestly believe he isn’t going to pounce on you at any moment. Horror burns in your stomach, heat running through your body. Numb limbs slowly turn to shadowy forest.

You see his eyes before anything else. How they shimmer and shine with desire and amusement. He’s laughing at you. You watch as that familiar smirk grows and stretches across his mouth. When he emerges from the trees, you forget your fear and bristle with irritation. Kiba takes his sweet time as he approaches you, probably waiting to see if you’ll dart like the scared bunny you are. He kneels down to your level, nose twitching before his eyes flash to your legs. You don’t miss the way the muscle in his jaw ticks at the sight of your blood.

His brows furrow when he reaches for you, and you flinch. “Are you afraid of the big, bad wolf?”

You huff. “When have I ever been afraid of you, Kiba?”

“You don’t have to lie. I can smell it on you, bunny.” He sighs, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “You ready to head home?”

“How far did I make it?”

His smirk is back. “Not even a mile.”

Kiba kisses your pout before picking you up and hoisting you onto his back. You know the real reason he wants to go home is because you’re bleeding. He’s always the one to indulge you. Especially when you’re feeling feisty, wanting to test out his senses. So you sigh, hitching a ride on his back, arms dangling over his shoulders. Warm hands hold you by your thighs, giving you a comforting squeeze every now and then.

You look down when a sudden brush is felt against your calf. Akamaru is at your side, tongue darting out to lick your leg. “You better not have sold me out.”

“He didn’t.”

You don’t know whether to laugh at the annoyance in Kiba’s tone.

The rain has stopped by the time you make it home. Now you're just wet, clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. You swallow, fingers digging into Kiba’s shirt as the warmth of your blood trails down your leg. It’s not until he walks you into the comfort of your home, sitting you on the kitchen counter that you look at the mess the forest made of you. A warm hand wrapping gently around your ankle makes you hiss. Kiba tsks under his breath, thumb spreading the blood along your calf that still hasn’t stopped.

“You’re fucking freezing, bunny.” His jaw tenses as he meets your wide eyes.

You hold his stare, your cheeks burning as you wet your bottom lip nervously. Your heart stumbles as the words fall from your lips in a bated, breathless whisper. "Then warm me up."

His brows raise, though you catch the dim flare in his eyes at the insinuation dripping from your comment. Strip me down, warm me up. He grabs your chin, tilting your head until your lips are inches from his. His thumb brushes over your lips once before his eyes catch your, searching curiously before settling on your mouth again as his thumb makes another lazy pass.

“Don’t want blood all over the bed.”

“Like that’s stopped you before.”

God, where is this coming from? Was it the chase? Adrenaline is still pouring through you. Every time you move electricity sparks at your fingertips, burning your nerves. It makes you pulse, makes you ache. You have to keep yourself from snapping your legs shut, to stop from rutting like a bitch in heat on the goddamn counter.

When he sighs deeply, your heart skips.

"Is that a yes?" You can hear the smile in your voice, and his only answer is a low groan in the back of his throat before pulling your lips to his. Breaking the kiss as quick he came, he pushes you onto your back before you can even thread your fingers through his hair. The cold, hard counter beneath you is a stark contrast to the calloused fingers cupping the side of your throat as his thumb traces the delicate line of your jaw. It's a gentle caress, and you smile at the tenderness of it, especially when you playfully nip at his lip. His returning bite isn't as gentle, and it sends an excited thrill through you.

"Never thought I'd see you play dirty, bunny rabbit." He seems amused, impressed with your scandalous negotiating skills.

"I dunno," you admit with a smile against his lips. “Might be the wild finally calling to me.”

His cheek twitches, kissing you deeper before pulling back to run his thumb across your bottom lip. "The wild." He repeats it like he wants to taste it, like he wants to remember the feel of it on his tongue. Deep-seated satisfaction flashes in his eyes as he says, "It looks good on you."

Heat climbs up your neck and pools in your cheeks, and he grins at the sight before kissing you deeply, sliding his tongue into your mouth with a low growl. It's an approving sound. One that you've found yourself searching for every time you’re alone, every time you’re tangled up like this. Your blood thrums hotter, heart careening in your chest.

The wild feels good — like fresh fallen rain on your skin, a calloused hand on your throat. Smoke and shadow and dark starry nights. It's intoxicating. Heady. Addicting.

And you can't seem to get enough of it.

You run your hands down his back, fingers tugging at the material clinging to his skin. You huff, nails scraping gently as his muscles shift beneath your touch. Kiba only pulls away far enough to help you take it off, the offending material making a plopping sound as it hits the floor. His tongue collides with yours, dominating and all-encompassing, and the heat building between your thighs flares.

"Bunny." His voice is throaty and rough, but his murmur is gentle against your lips. You smile into the kiss, realizing how fitting that is for him — roughly gentle. When he groans your name as you rock your hips against him, you can't help the smallest moan that echoes in the back of your throat at the sound. You've heard him say your name so many times now, in so many variations, but here, right now, with one hand sliding up your stomach, fingers splayed wide and the other gripping the thigh you have wrapped around his waist, this might be your favorite.

"Hmm?" You hum in response, brushing your tongue against his.

His thumb brushes over your pulse in the dip of your throat before sliding down to your chest. Your shaky inhale echoes between you as he palms your breast and skims a rough thumb over your nipple that’s peaking through your soaked shirt. The wet air bites the sensitive bud, but it's soothed every time his thumb makes a slow, teasing pass. Ice and fire, you’re drowning in both, and the contrast is sending your nerves into a frenzy. You arch your back, silently pleading for more.

His lips leave yours, heavy hands all but ripping your shirt off only to dip down to nip and suck your other nipple before rising back to your ear. His words are a whispered taunt that douses your nerves in kerosene, his thumb the lit match that sends your body up in flames. "Tell me what you want, bunny."

Your stomach tightens. You're practically naked under this man, silently pleading for him to give you an orgasm, but the thought of asking for it, saying it out loud, has the air in your lungs solidifying into ice. You thread your fingers in his hair and urge his lips back to yours, and he obliges with a ghost of a smile as you kiss him deeply, rocking your hips against his pointedly. Touch me! I want you to touch me!

A flicker of heat climbs your spine as his hand skims down your stomach, and you moan into his mouth as he slips his hand into your shorts. His teeth dig into your lip with a groan when he finds you with no panties. His thumb grazes your clit before he slides a finger into you, and the pressure between your thighs nearly explodes at the touch. He moves lazily inside you, his thumb barely brushing your clit with each slow thrust of his hand. It's enough to build the pressure in your stomach slowly, but as you rock your hips, trying to add more friction, your heart sinks at the realization that it's not enough. And he knows it.

He has you hanging by a thread.

A frustrated groan vibrates in your throat, and that ghost of a smile grows.

"Kiba." It's a breathless complaint, a begrudging plea. "Please."

"Please, what?" His voice is low against your lips, dripping with satisfaction as he nips at your jaw. "Tell me what you want, bunny."

He offers you one gloriously rough pass of his thumb over your clit as incentive, and it shatters your mind into a million desperate pieces.

"Touch me, please," you beg, unable to bite back your restless moan. It's loud enough to echo around the house, loud enough to usually set your cheeks on fire, but you're too consumed by the heat thrumming through your veins to even care. You tighten your grip on his hair and whisper a desperate, breathy plea against his lips. "Kiba, please, please just touch me; make me come."

His thumb and finger instantly find a much rougher pressure and pace, and your eyes widen, back arching at the instant rush of pleasure that shoots through you.

"Just like that," he groans against your throat. "Fuck, I'd give you anything if you asked me just like that." He captures your lips again, nipping at your lip before sliding his tongue into your mouth, and when he curls his finger, hitting the spot deep inside, the pressure in your stomach hits its peak, and your breath freezes in your throat as your orgasm surges through you.

You're on fire, engulfed in a delicious, mind-shattering flame, burning right here beneath him. An image of a moth going up in flames flashes in your mind, and you can't help but smile at the morbid thought that if this is how you’re destined to die, it's not such a bad way to go.

Death by fire — what an appropriate demise for something wild.

Opening your eyes, your heart races when you meet his molten gaze. Your body is searing, scorching, fiending for him.

Almost as much as your heart is.

You're completely, stupidly, madly in love with him. Not a sweet school girl crush. Not a lust-driven infatuation. Not a rose-colored fantasy. You have fallen for Kiba in ways you didn't even know were possible. You've fallen for the warmth of his lips on the shell of your ear as he whispers salacious sweet nothings. You’ve fallen for the feel of his cheeks pulling up into a broad smile as you cup his face, your thumbs sweeping slowly over his stubble-lined jaw. You’ve fallen for him in the quiet moments, the ones shared between you in the calm of the night, under the sunset sky, or where everything other than the two of you seems to melt away into nothing more than smoke and shadow. But you’ve also fallen for him in the loud moments — the heart-racing, lung-bursting moments, the ones that remind you of what it means to feel alive. You’ve fallen for this man's stubborn pessimism, for his wicked mouth and sarcastic tongue. You’ve fallen for him as a whole and in pieces, in his tiny details — in the way you fall in love with nature.

He presses a kiss to your neck as you slide your hand into his hair. The flames lick at your soul as you seal your fate with a single whispered confession. "Kiba, I want more." My heart seems to stagger with my breath. "I need to feel you...everywhere...all over...inside of me."

Death by fire it is.

If you weren't burning before, you are now. You’re on fire, a white-hot cinder burning in the middle of the kitchen. His deep visceral groan against your throat only drives your pulse faster, and when he pulls back to consider you, your heart aches at the sight of him — gilded in soft moonlight, the sharp angles of his face softened.

His thumb coasts along the soft line of your jaw, but you catch the amused twitch of his brow as he murmurs, "I got you."

Your eyes flutter shut when he drags his calloused thumb down your throat and along the line of your collarbone. It's the same path his lips always take, and the ache to feel his tongue drag up your throat elicits a new rush of goosebumps that race down your chest and shake your shoulders.

Lifting your chin, he brings his lips to your but pulls away just enough for you to catch his faint smile as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, pretty bunny rabbit."

He seems to sense that you’re not breathing because he waits for you to finally take a breath before connecting your lips in a soft, unhurried kiss. Keeping his lips on yours, his hands slide down your waist to and slowly slide down your legs, pulling your shorts with them. His hand guides yours to the button on his pants before finding your hip and sliding his hand down the bare expanse of your thigh. A trail of goosebumps follows in his wake, though with the heat now pulsing through your body, you both know it has nothing to do with the water still clinging to you.

"I forget how good you are at this," you murmur against his lips.

A haughty grin flashes as he breaks the kiss to laugh. "Which part? The orgasms or undressing?" He dips his head to nip playfully at your jaw, and ypu slide his button through the loop.

"At making me feel comfortable," you correct with a smile, though the word doesn't feel exactly right, and when you tug his jeans down his you, I realize why and quietly amend, "At making me feel safe."

His grip on your thigh tightens before he leans down and brushes his lips against yours. It's a heart-stopping kiss — deeper than the soft, slow kisses and infinitely more tender. You thread your fingers through his hair, drawing him closer, and when the heat in your lower belly pulses,you wrap your legs around his hips and urge him closer.

He tugs his boxer briefs down, and you watch wide-eyed as he grasps the base of his erection and slides the condom on in one smooth motion. This is hardly the first time you’ve seen his erection, but it seems even bigger now that it's about to be inside of you.

Heart racing again, you lean back against the counter, weight resting on your elbows. His lips are warm against your skin, trailing down your neck, between the valley of your breasts, but they aren't as soft as they were before, and when he guides your legs to wrap around his hips, you’re thankful for the dominating essence of his tongue against you. The clear, silent power dynamic, the unspoken acknowledgment that he's in charge, that he's in control here. The heat between your legs rolls hotter at the thought, and when his lips brush your throat, your breath lodges in your throat as he grips your hip gently and slides into you. You squeeze your eyes shut and dig your fingers into his back, biting back the whimper caged in your throat as the initial sting of that delicious stretch that only Kiba can give you slowly eases.

Oh, God.

Deep. He's so deep. Impossibly deep inside you.

"Breathe, baby," he murmurs against your throat.

You realize that you’ve stopped breathing until you force yourself to inhale a clipped, shaky breath. He presses another kiss to your throat before bringing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply. His tongue parts your lips, and when his hips begin to move again, the sharp jolt of pain doesn't shoot through you again. Instead, you feel the ache of loss every time he pulls out — a sensation of empty, longing, burning desire.

You moan softly into the kiss, moving your hips with his. Pulses of pleasure ripple through you, and the groan that vibrates deep in his throat sends electricity down your spine. His hand slides down to grip your ass, and he guides you into a deeper, more exaggerated roll of your hips until your clit brushes against him with each thrust.

Breaking the kiss, you roll your head back as each of your heavy pants becomes a breathy moan that echoes around the sleepy house. The muscles in his back and shoulders are taut with focused, self-restrained tension. He's going slower, softer than he usually would, and when a wave of pleasure rolls up your spine that has your mouth falling open with a moan, you don't want the diluted, desaturated version of sex with him. The version you know he’s giving you because you’re hurt. You almost roll your eyes — it’s just a scraped knee. You want to be with him, to really be with him.

Digging your nails into his back, you bask in the small twinge of pain from the stretch still lacing each thrust as you roll your hips against his, desperate to feel him. "More," you moan against the shell of his ear. "Please."

With a throaty groan, he gives you exactly what you want.

More of him. In every way.

Deep, rough strokes, a calloused hand palming the side of your throat, fingers intertwined with your own, locking arm above your head, and demanding kisses that steal the breath straight from your lungs. A complete surrender of control. Complete submission to the only man you’ve ever wanted to give your body to.

His fingers tighten around yours as he kisses a trail to your neck, and when he thrusts so deep that your heart skips a beat, you wrap your free arm around his neck, pressing your lips to his ear as delirious moans slip from your lips. You barely even realize he’s mounted you on the counter, knees braced on either side of you, ass out for the world to see. You can't focus on anything. It feels so good it hurts. It feels so good your body is writhing underneath him — a frenzy of white-hot pleasure.

"Goddamn," he murmurs against your shoulder, and a new rush of heat sears your skin at the desperation laced in the curse. Your heart is a deafening drum in your ear, but your heart stumbles over itself when he whispers against your throat so quietly you can't be sure you heard him right. "Can never get enough of you. I don’t know why you think you can run, bunny. I’d find you at the end of the earth."

His whispered words send you over the edge, and your orgasm explodes deep inside, rippling through you in swells of mind-numbing pleasure. Sated, blissful warmth courses through your veins, touching your skin as if you stepped out in the midsummer sun.

His arms wrap around you as your muscles loosen, too heavy to lift from the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsing through you like gentle waves crashing on the shore, and with a thrust that sends another wave of pleasure through your body like a bolt of crackling lightning, he groans into your neck as his orgasm rocks through him.

Chest heaving against his, you smile at the feel of his clipped breath warming your throat, just above your racing pulse. Threading your fingers through the hair at his nape, you hold him closer, trying desperately to remember this moment — how his body feels against yours, spent and sated and dripping with a scalding sheen of carnal sweat.

He pulls out, and an instant pang of loss resonates through you, leaving a hollow feeling between your thighs. Although any sense of loss is swept away when he lifts his head from your neck, and you savor the sight of his deeply sated gaze that lingers on your flushed cheeks before meeting your own.

His thumb skims your cheek, and you lift your chin to bring your lips closer to his. Eyes dipping to your mouth, his cheek twitches as he leans down to murmur against your lips, "Come on wild one, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Your cheeks warm and he grins at the sight before kissing you and when he finally pulls away, his gaze lands on the floor and narrows slightly as he considers the wet clothes scattered across the kitchen floor. And you know he’s hating the idea of having to clean up. You know he won’t let you do it. He chased you through the forest, ran you down to where you bled, and fucked you. Yeah, you weren’t lifting a finger for the rest of the night.

“Hey,” you say lightly, tracing your finger along his cheekbone.

His sharp gaze catches yours, dark eyes moving gently across your face. You don’t need to say more. The thing with Kiba is he knows. He always knows. He bares his fangs at you, a light growl escaping him and there’s less than five seconds before he’s chasing you through the house to the bedroom where he tosses you into the shower.

Wild, you think.

[clementinesandwine]

Jealous Kiba

I have absolutely been slacking on writing any fics, and this isnt my normal content, but I have been thirsting for Kiba recently. So obviously, I have to write this 5.3K word filth :)

✧˖ ° includes~ seemingly modern au, established friendship, nsfw, jealous Kiba, praise kink, choking, dom!kiba, sub!reader, biting, scratching, hair pulling, honorifics, reader called good girl etc.

You all gathered at Sakura’s apartment for her small birthday celebration. She had finally turned 21, the house smelling of booze and excitement, Kiba noted. He was stone-cold sober, having driven himself here, and not as happy as everyone around.

Kiba watched stealthily from his spot on the couch as you stood next to the pony-tailed idiot. Now he had nothing against Shikamaru, it's just that he was standing too close for comfort and he missed when you would stand that close to him, even if you and him had only been friends. You guys used to hang out every day, but recently Kiba noticed you distancing yourself. Probably because you were buddy buddy with Shaikamaru. God, Kiba could practically smell the jealousy on himself. He had no right to really be mad, having never confessed his feelings to you, but still, had all your days together meant nothing? Now you’re outwardly flirting with one of his friends?

You threw your head back, laughing. Kiba noticed the way you placed your hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder, slightly pushing him away. He knew Shikamaru wasn’t that fucking funny, so why the hell were you laughing so hard? Kiba watches as you lean in and give Shikamaru a hug, figuring you were getting ready to leave. He couldn’t help but notice the way Shikamaru held you, one arm on your waist, the gentle rub of his hand on the back of your head as you pressed flush against his chest. Kiba could have torn him apart at that moment, but he calmed himself. He could never cause a scene like that, but if Kiba ever sensed discomfort from you, he would be by your side in an instant. No matter who the person was, if they made you uncomfortable, Kiba was there.

He got up, flattening out his army green hoodie, and walked over to you.

“Hey (Y/N), you heading home for the night?” He asks you.

You jump, a little startled and a little nervous. You had missed Kiba, but distancing yourself was the only way you thought you could get over this stupid crush. You and him had been friends for years, you couldn’t ruin it over some silly feelings. But fuck, did he look good in green, the long sleeves of his hoodie pushed up giving you full view of his muscular forearms.

“Oh, yeah, I’m ready to hit my bed. Just gotta say bye to Sakura and thank her for inviting me,” you respond, looking up into his eyes. He towered over you.

“Let me drive you home then, you’ve been drinking, no?”

“Only like, two. You know I don’t drink like that. I’m fine to walk home, Kib,” you say.

“Well, you know I could never let a pretty girl like you walk home alone at night,” he starts, mimicking you. “Plus, I miss your stupid face,” He says, one hand on the back of his neck.

“Wow,” you say jokingly. “I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered with that two in one combo.”

Your laugh calms his nerves. “Oh come on, I can’t just be giving out compliments, (Y/N). But, you can take it however you want,” he says, flashing his canines.

“I take it you won’t have no for an answer, so I’ll meet you at the front door, hm?” You question, looking at him with doe eyes.

He swears his knees almost buckle with you looking at him like that. Faking innocence. Kiba nods his head like an excited puppy and makes his way to the door.

When you’re done saying bye to everyone, you walk over to the front door. You spot Kiba standing there, rocking on his heels. His hands were stuck in his jean pockets, head down, his scruffy hair falling a bit into his face. He looked so good.

“I’m ready,” you say simply, trying to collect yourself.

He gives you a look up and down, brows furrowed. “Where’s your jacket?”

“Oh, I didn’t bring one,” you say with a smile.

“Tsk, tsk. (Y/N), you know what kind of man I am. Did you really think I was gonna let you walk outside in that little dress with no jacket?” He begins to pull off his hoodie. His black T-shirt underneath lifts along with it, giving you a full view of his toned abs. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together, knowing if you put that hoodie on, the smell of him so close would drive you nuts.

“Kiba I’ll be-” you start, but are cut off by him shoving the sweater into your chest.

“No buts. Put the sweater on please,” Kiba says. You do as you’re told, the sweater falling slightly below your bottom. Almost the length of the white dress you were wearing. “There,” he says. “Much better.”

While you walk to the car, Kiba keeps the doors locked. He knows you would try to open it yourself and he just could not have that. He was too much of a gentleman. When he gets to the passenger door, he holds the handle, unlocks the door, and pulls it open for you. You can feel your cheeks warm at his action. You have to stop thinking of your friend like this, he’s just being nice.

He waits until he sees you are all set in your seat, feet comfortably in the car, before he softly closes the door and makes his way to the driver's side. You look through the tinted windows, openly ogling at his biceps and chest that are oh so visible through his shirt. You realize you do not really want to go home. You want to spend some time with the boy you’ve been avoiding for a month now. As he connects his phone to the radio and picks a playlist, you call him.

“Kiba, do you actually mind if we drive around a bit or something? I don’t actually want to go home, I was just tired of being around so many people,” you say, which isn’t a total lie. You didn’t want to be around everyone. And his hoodie was just a convincing factor for you to stay out with him.

“Of course, you know I love my late nights,” he says, looking over at you. “Especially when I spend them with you.”

Kiba can’t stand himself. For one, he’s being too corny. Two? He is trying to flirt with his best friend. Maybe he’s just confident after seeing you with another man, but he doesn’t think he wants to hide his feelings anymore. “Why don’t we go to our little spot by the water? Listen to some music in private?” he asks.

All you can do is nod your head and watch as he puts the car in drive. You keep looking over to his hands on the wheel, his muscles flexing with each turn. You feel stupid getting turned on by something so small, but you can’t help it. The sound of the leather cracking when he grips the wheel, the veins on his hands. You clench your thighs together, that familiar feeling erupting in your lower stomach. Kiba pretends not to notice.

He pulls up close to the water and turns the headlights off. One of your guys favorite songs starts to play, you make out the lyrics even though the volume is low.

“Oh my god, remember when we used to sing this so loud and your mom would yell at us to shut up cause it would wind up the dogs too much?” You ask, giggling at the memory.

“How could I forget?” He responds. “We did that everyday for weeks. We were always together.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy recently,” you lie.

“Busy with Shikamaru?” Kiba asks, letting jealousy get the best of him. How fucking stupid.

“Why,” you ask with a sly smile, still very nervous. “Are you jealous, Kiba?”

Kiba gives you a double take, blushing at what you just said, the color of his cheeks matching his markings. “No no not at all. I-i’m just saying you guys are hanging out a lot recently. Didn’t know if you guys had a thing or something. I mean, I didn’t peg him to be your type, honestly,” he says, fidgeting with his own fingers.

“What do you think my type is, exactly?” You ask, leaning a bit closer. You don’t know what it is or where your confidence is coming from, but you can’t help but tease the boy. He doesn’t take the bait, though, only shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah well, you’re right. Definitely not my type at all. He’s too quiet and laid back. You know I’m pretty quiet too, I’d like someone a little more outgoing to push me out of my comfort zone. Someone really funny, too, you know? A gentleman. Plus, he’s got a really big thing for Temari. We’re only been hanging out recently because he wants me to be his wingman,” you say, leaning back into your seat. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Wingman?” Kiba asks, again with his cute, furrowed brows.

“Yeah, I’m the one that brought Temari to the party. I guess I’m more of a wingwoman,” you say with a giggle. You look over, trying to maintain eye contact, but he keeps looking away.

“Oh okay, so when are you gonna start hanging out with me again,” he asks, leaning back in his seat. A stupid smirk plastered on his face. “Or is there more to ditching me than you’re letting on?”

You push his shoulder, admiring the feel of his muscle under your hand, only for a second. “No there’s nothing, you idiot. I miss hanging out with you.”

“Yeah well I’ve been missing you. And don’t tell Akamaru I said this, but he misses you too,” Kiba laughs. “If I’m being honest, I might’ve been a little jealous of Shikamaru,” he confesses. He knows you won’t judge him for saying that.

“Why’s that?” you ask, innocently. Your heart starts beating faster at the thought that Kiba is jealous of someone else for stealing you away.

“You’re my girl,” he says, looking up through his lashes.

“Don’t say that, stupid. You’re being so mushy.”

“But it’s true, you are my girl,” Kiba says. He knows Shikamaru isn’t a problem anymore, but he can’t stand the idea of you being with any man. He needs to make a move, even if it ruins the friendship. At least then he would know he tried. He can see your blush spreading across your face. You are no longer teasing Kiba, he always comes back 10 times stronger, your lips held in a thin line. “You don’t want to be my girl?” He asks.

You squeeze your thighs at his words and look down, no idea how to respond. “I-,” you start, but it goes nowhere. Your stomach is spinning.

Kiba slowly places his hand under your chin and brings you to face him. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Honestly, it's easier for him to be this soft with you, having not seen you for weeks. It's like all this time being away has given him the courage to finally open up. You still can’t answer, but Kiba can smell you. Smell the slight arousal. Notice how you have your hands neatly folded in your lap, squeezing your plush thighs together. All he can think about is being suffocated by those thighs. Kiba can’t believe his own confidence, but he finds it harder to believe how easy it is to turn you on. And how cute you are.

He leans into your ear. “You know,” he whispers. “The only thing I can think about is kissing those pretty lips of yours.”

You feel your heart stop. “Do it, then,” you whisper back.

He’s on you in a second, lips molding together like art. His hand runs up the back of your head, pushing you closer into his mouth. You shiver at his touch. Kiba licks your lower lip, wanting allowance to fully explore your mouth. You part your lips slightly, letting him in. You can taste the mint on his tongue as your hand slides over to rest on his chest. Kiba’s breath hitches when he feels your delicate fingers slide up to his neck and back down to his chest. You pull away at the sound.

“I-I’m sorry,” you say quickly, bringing your hand up to wipe your mouth. He snatches your hand before it reaches your mouth.

“Why are you apologizing, cutie? You getting flustered?” He asks. Of course he’s gonna be cocky now, knowing you want him the way he wants you.

“I just… I don’t want this to ruin anything, I just…” you can't find the words.

“I want you, (Y/N). I can smell that you want me too. How long have you been hiding it?” Kiba asks. You remain silent. “Come here, baby, come sit in my lap,” he says, pulling your arm slightly. You follow his orders, always having been so obedient. It turns Kiba on to no end and he can feel himself straining in his pants. The thought of fucking you sensless in his car floods his mind.

“I’ve been lying to you for a long time, (Y/N). I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” he says, kissing the corner of your lip to your jawline and down your neck. “I want you to really be my girl.”

You whine at the feeling of his tongue on your neck. “Can I touch you here?” He asks, placing his hands on your hips lightly.

“Yes… please.”

His lips are back on yours, hands gripping your waist and sliding up slightly, smooth fingers gliding up your back. Your hands are running up over his biceps, on his chest, fingers curling into his hair. You can’t help yourself, having finally been given the chance to touch the boy of your dreams. You can’t help but moan when his teeth graze your ear.

“Shh, don’t do that. You can’t handle what comes next, yet,” Kiba says. He doesn't want to hurt you.

“I-I can,” You grind your hips down, causing him to groan in return. He tightens his hold on your hips. “Please Kiba, I want it, want you,” you beg. He’s silent and you become overly aware of the situation you’re in. Sitting in your best friend's lap, practically drooling at the thought of him touching you. You’re afraid you went too far.

He stares at you intently before grinding your hips against him again. “How am I supposed to say no when you ask all sweet like that, hm? Look so fucking cute in my sweater. Always act so innocent, but you want me to ruin you, huh?”

He’s rambling now, sliding your hips against his even harder. You go to kiss his neck, biting slightly, when he lets out a hiss. “You gonna let me touch you underneath this cute little dress? Gonna let me take it off?” he growls into your ear. You can feel yourself slick from just his words.

“Please, Kiba. Touch me, I want you to touch me,” you whine.

“Where, baby? You want me to touch you here?” he says, letting his thumb graze over the wet patch forming in your panties. You gasp at his touch, hips bucking into his hand. “So sensitive,” he whispers.

“Don’t tease me, Kiba.”

“I won’t if you keep saying my name like that,” he responds, canines flashing through his smirk.

Your lips crash into his again, his hands sliding up under your dress. He palms the plush of your thigh, squeezes your ass and drags you closer against him. You move your hips against him as he slides his hands up, slowly taking off the hoodie and dress in one go. You’re embarrassed to admit you weren’t wearing a bra, the cool air causing your nipples to harden immediately.

Kiba throws his head to the side, swearing under his breath. “No bra, baby?” He smirks, kissing your chest.

You shy away. “They- they’re uncomfortable… never wear ‘em,” you whisper.

His thumb swipes over your nipple and you arch into him. “They’re so perfect, you’re so fucking perfect.” He’s practically devouring you, leaving purple and pink bruises all over your chest, collar bones, wherever he can get his mouth. He needs to mark you, show the world you belong to him, claiming you.

“Kibaaa,” you whine.

“Whaaat?” he asks back, mimicking you. He smiles softly, bumping his nose to yours.

You become shy all over. “Can, uh, can we go in the back?” you ask. Your body is pressed to his chest, hiding yourself slightly.

“Fuck yes, we can go in the back. Go ahead baby,” he says. You climb back and cover yourself with the hoodie as he makes his way out of the car and walks to the back seat. Opening the door, he climbs in and notices the hoodie. “Take that off sweetheart, let me see my pretty girl.”

He's back on you in a second, kissing you roughly, pulling you against him while sliding his hands up your back. He gets you onto your back and rolls up the hoodie into a pillow. After placing it under your head, he places his left hand on your cheek, kissing you softer this time. More passionate. His right hand slides lower, cupping you gently and placing little pressure. You grind up into his hand and he can’t help but grind into the seat. Kiba is unbelievably hard, especially with seeing how needy you are for him. He kisses his way down till he makes it to your sweet cunt. It's a tight squeeze, but it's all worth it. He has been smelling your arousal for over an hour now, he needs to taste you on his tongue.

Kiba takes a look at your cute, lace panties, noting the wet spot that's formed in the center. “These are cute,” he says, toying with the fabric.

You’re looking down at him, trying to muster up the courage to say something. “Th-Thought you didn’t just give out compliments,” you say.

Kiba kisses your thigh dangerously close to your core and responds, “Baby, I would give you any and everything.”

His fingers loop under the waist of your panties as he looks up at you for permission. You nod your head slightly and he pulls them off in one swift motion, holding them to his nose and inhaling sharply. You clamp your thighs shut, shy from his action.

“You smell so fucking good. Open your legs, babygirl, let me taste you. Please?”

You do as you’re told and it makes his cock twitch, still caged in by his pants. The way you respond, giving him everything he asks for, drives him mad. He takes a second to admire you, your body, the slick gathered on that pretty pussy of yours. He slides one hand up your thigh, rubbing softly, while the other uses his middle and ring finger to swipe through your folds. Your hips thrust upwards as he pulls the fingers to his mouth, absolutely drunk off your arousal.

He groans at the taste, his breath fanning over your dripping core, causing you to clench. Kiba is already addicted to you, needing to feel you everywhere. He kisses your inner thigh, mere inches away from where you need him most. The feeling of his teeth sinking into the soft flesh sends a shiver up your spine and leaves your mouth hanging open.

Kiba softly kisses your clit before licking a stripe through your folds. He curses himself for not trying to get with you sooner, already addicted to your taste. His tongue teases your hole before swirling it around your clit. Kiba’s hand slides up your waist slowly as he works his tongue on your most sensitive part, your moans only spurring him on. His fingers slide over your nipple, pinching softly, and you arch into him, grinding into his mouth. He moans into you, the vibrations adding to your pleasure and you can’t help but squeeze your legs around him. He slides his other hand up to force your legs back open, while his other leaves your nipple to wrap around your throat. He squeezes softly.

You gasp and your hands fly down to his hair, wrapping your fingers around his brown locks and tugging. He growls into you, making you moan, “Kiba o.. oh fuck, please,” you beg, not sure what for. He hums back to you, the vibrations making you tremble again.

He pulls his face away, only darting his tongue out to play with your clit, while the hand holding your leg open reaches for your entrance. “So fucking good,” he mumbles against you. “Such a sweet, little pussy for me.”

Kiba enters you slowly with one finger and you pull his hair harder. He feels like he’s about to burst, but he knows he has to get you ready. Wants you to cum on his fingers first. You’re getting louder, moaning over the music, when he adds a second finger. Kiba curls his fingers upwards and finds your spot almost immediately, as if he already knew your body inside and out. With his fingers inside you, he pushes his face back into you, circling his lips around your clit and sucking softly. You wonder where he got such skills for a moment and it makes you jealous, which doesn’t last long, when you feel his hand slowly slide down from your neck to your waist.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck K-Kiba I’m cl-close,” you stutter out.

“I know baby, you’re clenching around my fingers. So tight,” he mumbles back. “Go ahead, cum for me. I need to taste you. That’s it, good girl.”

That's all you needed to send you over the edge. That neat, little coil wound up so perfectly had finally snapped. Your legs were trembling, back arched, and head thrown back. Kiba couldn’t help but admire your expression as you came all over his face and fingers. He slowed his movements and finally pulled his face away, sitting on his knees while still finger fucking you slowly.

You look up at him, his lips and chin soaked with your juices. You can’t help but look down at his hand inside you, watching the muscles in his arms flex as fucks you, before looking back up at his face. He leans over and kisses you softly.

“You see something you like, sweetheart? You’re clenching around me again,” he says with a satisfied grin.

“You just look so good with my cum dripping down your chin,” you say out of breath.

“Oh yeah? For a second there, I could have sworn you were looking at something else” Kiba mumbles, kissing your neck softly and curling his fingers again.

You moan at the feeling, “Please Kiba, I need you inside me.” You wrap your hand around his length and rub through his jeans.

“Fuck, baby, you gonna let me use this cute pussy of yours?” he asks. You nod eagerly, sitting up with him and pulling at his shirt.

“Take this off. I wanna feel your skin on mine,” you mumble quickly.

Kiba laughs back, “Yeah? Or do you wanna just see my muscles? You’ve been eyein’ them this whole time.”

“Maybe a little bit of both,” you smile and lean in, pecking his lips. He pulls his shirt over his head quickly and you run your hand down his chest, towards his length, admiring his toned torso and smooth skin. You unbuckle his belt to the best of your ability and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull his length out. You’re speechless.

“I-I don’t know if it's gonna fit,” you say, without thinking.

He laughs, “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take care of you. And if it's too much,” he starts, grabbing your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, “you tell me right away, okay? I don’t care what the issue is, if it hurts, if you’re tired. There doesn’t even have to be a reason. You wanna stop? Just say the words, no questions asked, and I will take care of you.”

He slides his hand to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. You nod your head, but he won’t take that for an answer this time. “I need your words, my love. Tell me you understand.”

“I promise to tell you if I need you to stop,” you say confidently.

“Good girl,” Kiba says. “Come sit on my lap, princess.”

You swing your leg over his, sitting directly over his tip. He slides his hands up your back, kissing your chest softly. Your hand reaches down and lines his length up with your entrance. You wrap your arms around Kiba’s neck and his hands settle at your waist. You begin to sink down on his length, the stretch painful, but good at the same time.

“That’s it, love. Slow, just like that. Doing so good for me, so tight,” he mumbles into your ear. Your head is down, struggling to maintain any bit of composure, and his grip tightens on your waist. Kiba hisses through his teeth when you fully sink down on him, your walls already fluttering around him. You swear you've never had anything this deep inside of you before.

“You okay, babygirl,” he asks, searching your eyes for any lies. You can see the love he holds for you.

“Y-yes… just so, s-so full,” you respond.

Kiba pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth instantly. He pulls your hips back up before pushing you back down on his length, trying to find a steady pace. You melt under his touch and lean your head on his shoulder. Your moans sound directly in his ear and he can’t help but graze his teeth on your shoulder. When you whine, he sinks his teeth in softly. Not enough to pierce your skin, but enough to leave a mark. When he lifts your body again, he keeps it there.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you against his chest. Your arms fold in, hands left on his shoulders and your head remains next to his. Cheek against cheek. “I got you baby, so good,” he whispers, one arm around your waist, his hand squeezing your side. His other arm is pulled diagonally across your back, with his hand gripping your shoulder. He begins to thrust up into you, hugging you against his chest.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. To have you falling apart like this because of me,” he starts. Kiba pushes his head down and starts kissing along your collarbone. “When I saw you and Shikamaru today, I got so jealous, the way you touched him, the way you let him touch you. God, I’m angry just thinking about him touching you. Anyone touching you. I can’t let anyone else touch you after that.”

He’s full on grunting now, slamming into you at an ungodly pace. Your legs are shaking and your moans are spilling out, unable to control them anymore. The hand he has on your shoulder runs up the back of your neck and grabs a fist full of hair, pulling your head back. He nibbles on your neck and you can feel him grinning against you.

“You are mine,” he growls out, accentuating each word with a particularly hard thrust. You clench around him. You can’t help but topple over the edge again, your juices dripping down your thighs as you moan out his name.

“Oh you like that? Being told who you belong to? Look at you, baby. Always acting so innocent in public, but here you are, cumming all over my cock in the backseat of my car. You sound so fucking pretty, baby, taking me so well,” He continues. “Go ahead, tell me who you belong to.”

Your head is dizzy, trying to grasp on to anything as he fucks you stupid. The words coming out of his mouth have you shocked. The humiliation and praise all at once has you sinking your nails into his shoulder. “Y-you,” you try to start but only end up stuttering. “I belong to you, Kiba,” you gasp out.

“Good girl,” he kisses your cheek. Kiba can feel himself getting lost in you, and tries to hold back the urge to finish already. He wants to finish with you.

“I’m close, love,” he whispers. “Think you can finish with me?”

“Yes! Yes I can, please, feels so good inside,” you babble out.

He pushes you back, your back hitting the back of the driver's seat, and you hold yourself up with your thighs. Kiba wraps his hand around your throat again, squeezing slightly. You reach a hand down to play with yourself, but Kiba grabs your hand and puts it on his chest. You whine in response, knowing you wouldn't be able to form a full sentence anyway.

“It's okay, sweetheart, let me do it for you. You know I take care of you, don’t you?” Kiba asks, though he doesn’t expect an answer. Not with how blissed out you look. He rubs steady circles on your clit, his abdomen burning from holding back. Your legs are shaking and he can’t help but smile at you, the only words leaving your mouth being “Oh fuck” and “please.”

“Awww, you cockdrunk that easy?” He grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. “Your pussy feels so good clenching around me, like you were made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you, baby? Fuck,” Kiba says. He’s never talked so much during sex, but it's so easy with you. And you obviously love the sound of his voice, judging by the way you flutter around him every time he speaks.

You know you can’t last much longer, the overstimulation from your previous orgasms having an affect on you. Your thighs are burning from holding yourself up. “Ki-Kiba I-” you try to start.

“I know baby, me too. Look at me, I want you to look at me while you cum on my cock,” he says, turning your head to face him. “That’s it, so pretty, doing so good for me. Taking me so well.”

You begin to shake, looking Kiba in his dark eyes, as your orgasm washes over you. He’s falling over the edge almost instantly, your pussy milking him for all he has, filling you until the sticky, white substance begins to slip out.. He pulls you into his chest and you relax against him, steady your breathing as he rubs small circles on your back.

“Such a good girl,” he says, kissing your forehead. You look up at him, puckering your lips for another kiss. He laughs lightly, kissing your lips, and pushes your hair out of your face. His hairs are sticking to his forehead with sweat. You can feel the slick covering your bodies, but don’t want to move.

“You want to be my girl, now?” Kiba asks.

“You idiot, I’ve always wanted to be your girl. I’ve always wanted you to be my boy.”

Kiba leans over and grabs that same green sweater, pulling it over your head and guiding your arms through the sleeves.

“Why don’t we go back to my place? I’ll help you take a shower… maybe cuddle and spend the night?” Kiba asks, hopeful.

“Yes, I’d love to,” you giggle.

He helps you put your panties back on and gets himself dressed. Getting out of the car, he picks you up from the back seat and brings you back to the passenger side, buckling you in and kissing your forehead. When he gets back to the driver side, you cuddle up to his arm and stay there the whole ride home.

Pretty sure I fixed any typos, but apologies if there are any. Also apologies for slacking recently on writing, just a full time college student thats burnt out haha :). Of course, will be doing my best to get some stuff out.

[saigethearies]

his girl best friend

kiba x fem!reader

18+ MINORS DNI

contents/warnings: reader is a lil possessive, vaginal sex, daddy kink, voyuerism(?), dash of degradation, sorry hinata stans lol she’s a lil problematic in this, allusions to unfaithfulness (not with reader’s relationship)

you were not a huge fan of hinata hyuga.

when kiba had first introduced the two of you, you had thought she seemed like a shy sweetheart. she was friendly enough and a little less intimidating to talk to than kiba’s other longtime friend, shino aburame.

the fact the guy you were seeing had a close friendship with another girl didn’t bother you, either. you weren’t an insecure person, and kiba didn’t give you any reason to start feeling that way, either. besides, hinata was finally going on dates with the man she’d had a crush on for years, naruto uzumaki.

there was no reason to dislike her.

until there was.

it started when you and kiba made it official. you had watched him type something on his phone after the two of you got back from your date.

“whatcha doing?” you had asked him, sitting down on the couch next to him.

he gave you one of his signature grins. “just telling shino and hinata the good news.”

butterflies flittered around your stomach at the fact your new boyfriend was so proud to have you that he wanted to tell his friends immediately.

he leaned in to give you a quick peck on your lips. “i’m gonna go take akamaru out real quick. you stay in here though, it’s dark out.”

“okay,” you replied. “don’t be too long!”

he left the room, and you glanced to see that he’d left his phone. message notifications displayed on the screen, and you leaned in to take a closer peek.

shino: congratulations, kiba. she seems very good for you.

that made you smile. but the text you saw next didn’t.

hinata: don’t you think it’s a little soon for the two of you to become official?

too soon? you’d known kiba since last year, and the two of you had been romantically linked for a solid month now. your relationship didn’t feel rushed at all, and who was she to judge? not everyone has to lurk on their crush for years before finally talking to them.

you chalked it up to her being jealous that her and naruto didn’t have a label yet while you and kiba did. still, her making negative remarks about your relationship that was only about two hours old left a bitter taste in your mouth.

everything seemed to go downhill from there.

she would practically ignore you whenever kiba brought you to a function. when you mentioned it to him, he said that she was just being shy as per usual. you would have taken his word for it, if it weren’t for the fact she was able to talk to you just fine before you became kiba’s girlfriend.

then there was the fact that when she wasn’t ignoring you, she was trying to best you in kiba 101.

“babe, i found out today one of my friends has an uncle who works at a jeep dealership,” you said to kiba at the kickback he had brought you to.

your boyfriend’s eyes sparkled. “no way.”

“what’s so special about that?” you heard hinata ask from across the table.

“because a wrangler is kiba’s dream car,” you replied.

hinata blinked. “no. his dream car is a camaro.”

you fought the urge to frown at her. was she seriously doing this right now? “it was a camaro, until he decided he wanted something that can off road.”

“she’s right,” kiba chimed in with a smile on his face, kissing the side of your head. “great memory, baby.”

you turned to meet his gaze and smiled back at him, the reflection in the window behind kiba giving you the perfect view of the eyeroll hinata gave your exchange.

your annoyance was finally coming to a crescendo when you started to catch her actually ogling your boyfriend.

she would practically be making fuck me eyes at kiba while standing right next to naruto, the guy who she’s supposed to be flirting with. you would feel bad for the blonde if it weren’t for the fact that he was too busy making fuck me eyes at sasuke uchiha to notice his date making fuck me eyes at her best friend.

you’d had enough.

hinata was supposed to be focusing on starting her own relationship. she’d also had plenty of opportunity to explore a possible romance with kiba, considering she’d known him for years before you even came into his life. it’s not like kiba would have rejected her, either. even though he’d never really had feelings for hinata like that (a fact shino had assured you of) she was still a pretty girl that he was close to. he probably would have been open to the idea. 

but no.

hinata decided that her friend getting into a happy relationship with another girl was the perfect time to start wanting him.

it wasn’t fair.

the worst part of all is that you didn’t want to tell kiba, who was oblivious to all of this. not because you were afraid that he wouldn’t believe you, but because you knew that he’d want to do something about it. his friends were important to him, but he wasn’t going to let anyone disrespect the boundaries of his relationship. it would impact his and hinata’s friendship in a very negative way, and you knew it would upset him.

thus, you figured you could try and resolve the problem on your own.

you were going to remind hinata hyuga of her place, and it sure as hell wasn’t in your boyfriend’s bed.

your plan fell into place on one of the trio’s game nights. kiba had hinata and shino come over every so often to play some classic board games, which was actually pretty wholesome when you ignore the whole part about hinata being after your boyfriend’s dick.

the girl in question usually got there about thirty minutes earlier than shino, probably so she could have a little window of time just her and kiba. this ended up working out for you, though.

because poor shino did not need to see what was about to happen.

all it took was an extra short pair of shorts, a bullshit excuse of you came over to find your sunglasses, and your boyfriend’s ever raging libido for your plan to kickstart.

“please, kiba, just really quick? we’ll be done before either of your friends even get here.”

he could never say no to you, not when you were being so cute and needy for him.

thus, that’s how hinata hyuga came to find you bouncing on kiba’s cock in the middle of his living room.

she stayed hidden around the corner leading to the hall, eyes blown open in shock as she watched your hips continue to slam down onto her best friend’s lap.

“fuck,” you moaned. “daddy, you feel so good.”

the brunette was canting his hips up to meet yours. “such a good little slut for me. you couldn’t wait until after my friends left, huh? wanted your daddy that bad.”

“yes!” you replied. “want you so bad.”

“it’s okay, princess, you have me.”

you hummed and leaned in for a sloppy kiss, kiba grabbing the back of your neck so he could deepen it. the sound of skin slapping against skin got louder as both of you increased the vigor in which you fucked one another.

you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his. you could still feel hinata’s eyes on the two of you, so it was time to go in for the kill.

“daddy,” you cooed at kiba. “tell me i’m yours.”

“you’re mine, baby. my pretty girl.”

you smiled. “m’your pretty girl?”

“mhm, my pretty girl and my favorite girl.”

you leaned into his neck so he couldn’t see the wicked smirk stretch across your face. you finally turned your head to the side, making direct eye contact with a still lingering hinata.

“i love you, daddy.”

“i love you too, princess. my one and only.”

at that you saw hinata turn on her heel and practically storm out of the house.

looks like she got the message.

[tired-biscuit]

Brother's Approval

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka/fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni] modern AU and a bit of a crossover. stepcest, stepbrother!kiba, manipulation, infidelity, heavy degrading (seriously, he's a real cunt in this), 69, unprotected sex, creampie, dubcon.

Word count: 9.6k

Masterlist

ayo, special thanks to @sneetsnoot for the peach idea!!

KIBA’S day off isn’t going all that well.

Despite the easy-going setting, the tall brunet feels the exact opposite of laid-back as he attempts to relax at the beach his family had barely managed to persuade him into visiting that hazy Friday afternoon.

Even sitting in the shade doesn’t help. The heat is unbearable and it makes Kiba wonder why on earth he’s even agreed to going out on the hottest day of the year. I mean, he doesn’t even like the beach all that much. Doesn’t enjoy the scorching sun that other people throw themselves under in the same manner he tosses burger patties on a grill, in hopes they’ll catch a tan.

Looking off into the distance with a tightly furrowed brow, trendy Ray-Ban sunglasses hide his amber eyes from view as he brings the icy can of soda, that he’s cracked open only mere moments ago, up to his lips. 

He nearly drinks half of the sugary drink in one swig. The high degrees are making him absolutely parched, but the sugar feels nice as it clings to his front teeth in a layer so thin he can lick it right off.

The damp, salt-laced strands of chestnut enticingly hug the sharp curve of his face and stick to his forehead from the swim he’s just taken. He pushes them from his face now, using the movement as a way to release the sudden stiffness his body experiences the moment a shrill shriek of joy resonates throughout the shore. The noise is so high-pitched that it makes his ears hurt. Makes his teeth feel on edge.

Kiba narrows his eyes as he looks at you - the perpetrator that’s causing all this commotion. His bratty little stepsister. 

Listening to your little squeaks of ‘Stop!’ and ‘Put me down, Denki! Now!’ is simply unnerving, but seeing them being voiced is even worse. The sole reason Kiba has agreed to coming to the beach with his mom and her boyfriend - soon-to-be husband, is more likely - was to catch a fucking break, and yet here you are: prancing around the shore in your tiny bikini like you own the sand and the waves, conjoined at the hip with your dumbass of a boyfriend and ruining everything like you always do.

The rowdy Inuzuka sighs as he continues to lie on the fluffy towel. His taut muscles gradually slacken back into ease by the time he forces his gaze to fall down to his phone with a subdued grunt; the initial aim to do absolutely nothing but relax once again spoiled by no one other than you. 

You just had to bring that dork along, didn’t you? Had to spoil the fun.

He is irked enough as it is, but watching you get picked up and thrown over the shoulder of the idiot he’s disliked from the moment he had laid eyes on him for the first time, makes Kiba outright fume for some fucking reason. Makes his blood boil and his jaw clench so tightly that he can feel his sharp incisors gritting together.

He blames it on work. The air in the workshop has been nothing but burdensome and tense as of late, but this specific week in particular had been the worst by far. He’s worked late into the night, risen early, and has been nagged from all sides for five days in a row.

If anybody would have told him three years ago that he’d have to sift his way through enormous numbers of annoying customers that are way too stingy with their money but still want their cars fixed ASAP, he would have laughed and politely told them to kiss his ass.

Seriously - they’re that bad. Especially the fancy business folk in their eerily clean clothes and carrying their expensive suitcases, who look down on him just because of the work he tends to do. They just have to treat him like shit. Make him all pent-up with rage that he can barely control in the first place because of his inherited anger issues and short temper.

Yes, he might be 'just another' blue-collar worker amongst many, but he is also the reason why their shiny BMWs and Teslas and whatnot stupid cars are running smoothly and operating without any sort of mishaps. So fuck them. And fuck their shitty prejudice, too.

Some days, Kiba swears that he can barely resist the urge of jumping over the counter and strangling them until they’re twitching and done for. And he isn't even into those murder podcasts his ex-girlfriend liked to listen to all the time.

But not everything is all that sour, despite the Karen-like people that get on his nerves and that keep straight up assaulting him at the counter. Still rather young, and thus awfully simple-minded, Kiba really does like working as a car mechanic, he truly does. He likes working with cars and listening to the radio whilst he tends to the vehicles. Enjoys eating burgers and salty French fries from the food stand across the street during his break. Hell, he even likes the smell of gasoline and the sticky feeling the engine grease leaves on his hands. Not to mention that the pay is pretty good as well.

But as of right now, Kiba is clean of grease and smells like salt instead of potent motor oil. His standard work pants have been replaced by a pair of navy blue swimming trunks, the white t-shirt tossed to the side and his tan skin exposed to the warm sea breeze that keeps wafting by. He’s supporting himself with his elbow as he drinks the sugary Coke, knee slightly bent and phone open on a tab that shows a Reddit post that had caught his interest minutes ago but he never quite got to reading properly yet.

He’s tried to, but he's unable to concentrate on the words and their meaning.

After all, the whine you voice sounds closer this time around, and sure enough: when Kiba swiftly lifts his gaze from his phone once more like it’s an automatic response to your calls, he sees you stumbling out of the sea with a pouty frown, hair soaked and skin dewy from droplets of water that glisten in the bright sunlight. 

He likes what he's seeing only partially, though. The reason for it might just be your giddy boyfriend, who is trailing right behind your heels as you walk, holding your hand and smiling at you with this huge-ass grin that makes Kiba wish he could knock his front teeth out with his fist.

He doesn’t like looking at Denki all that much. He's loud, too happy all the freaking time, so he rather shifts his attention back to you.

Because unlike the man next to you, you're a pretty little thing to look at; nice on the eyes. Truth be told, Kiba isn’t entirely sure if calling his stepsister pretty is a weird thing to do or not, but it’s what he thinks and he can’t change what he thinks - simple as that.

He also can’t help that he thinks of your tiny bikini as a gift of sorts, nor the fact that he likes how it shows off parts of your body that he doesn’t have a chance to see that often. No, Kiba just drags his gaze all over you because it’s out of his control, because it isn’t his responsibility as he keeps scanning and burning all those pretty parts into memory for whatever reason.

Reasons he’ll surely know by tonight; inside the comforting privacy of his bedroom. As he strokes his dick in that quick-paced, needy sort of way, just like he has a tendency to do, his mind full of you and your stupid tight body he plans to leave his mark upon at least once in this lifetime.

At least once, goddammit.

He tilts his head to the side as he watches, absent-mindedly chewing on the inside of his cheek whilst acknowledging the slight bounce of your tits and how your hips sway with every step you take, all salacious-like. You walk like a tricksy feline - every step confident and so alluring - and his pupils are dilating behind the dark sunglasses; outright growing to the size of dinner plates your stepmother serves before him every night.

But Kiba isn’t a coward. Timidity just isn’t in his blood.

So he pushes the Ray-Bans up as you come closer, letting them rest on the top of his head just so that he can see you even better. And you, god fucking damn it, you smile when you plop down right next to him - even give him a cheeky little wink to top it all off. As if you know exactly what he’s thinking about. As if you’re delighted by the dirty thoughts you invoke in your stepbrother all the fucking time for years on end.

And Kiba - poor, frustrated Kiba - doesn’t realize the look that crosses his face at that exact moment. He smells the salt in your hair and the sunscreen on your skin, but he doesn’t know how his entire expression shifts into something inexplicable because of it. How his body fully stills its movement before it falls into something calm, albeit equally as menacing, as he picks himself up so that he can sit on the towel. 

Supporting himself with the flat of his palms, the twenty-three-year-old pushes his chest out like you’re pulling the very last breath from his lungs just with your mere scent alone; preparing him to inhale it for one last time before it brings him to his demise.

God, he wants to ruin you, he’s been wanting to do it for so fucking long. Right on this secluded part of the beach, until you’d both be covered in sweat and you’d be crying as he’d push your face into the grating sand and make you take it. Make you take his big, fat cock in your bed. In his bed. In his car. In the shop he works at. Anywhere, everywhere, anytime, all the time.

But instead of biting into your neck like a wild, untamed animal and making you submit like you’re some damn bitch in heat, Kiba rather sinks his teeth into the peach your father tosses in his direction out of the blue. His right hand shoots up as he catches it swiftly - honed reflexes and all - but it’s like a wake up call. It snaps him right back to reality.

He feels woozy, somewhat. Like his soul isn’t fully nestled inside his body.

“You good, son?” your father asks.

“Yeah.” Kiba blinks and licks his front teeth before he kisses them with a pucker of his lips in sheer annoyance. “M’good.” He isn’t his fucking son.

And you’re not his sister. At least not the one he can’t fuck.

Speaking of his real sister - he’s close with Hana, too. They talk over FaceTime from time to time because she’s moved across the country to finish her studies, but it’s nothing like the connection he shares with you, of course. She’s his blood and you’re not. She doesn’t leer at his firm build, at how big and strong he’s gotten over the years. Doesn’t drool over him like you do whenever he comes home dressed in his work pants; all tired and sighing, chestnut hair tousled as he’s stretching his tired limbs and tipping his head back as he waits for the food to heat up in the microwave late in the evening.

It's just too bad that you turn your head away whenever he looks and drools all over you in return.

Staring at the fruit he’s holding in his hand now, Kiba shakes his head with a sigh. He’s come from being irked, to sexually frustrated, back to being irked all over again. The harsh pat he receives to his shoulder proves to be a subtle warning from his stepfather, who seems to be the only one who has noticed how closer he’s been getting with his stepsibling over the past few years.

It takes a man to recognize the look of yearning on another man’s face, after all. The look of true, potent desire. Of something carnal.

And that look makes your daddy's protective instincts kick in. Makes him not like his stepson all that much.

To be honest, Kiba doesn’t know what your dad is so fucking worried about. They’re just accidental touches and fortuitous close proximity, it’s not like either of you are aiming to make them happen. You don’t plan to put your feet on his lap during movie nights in the living room, it just happens because you’re tired. He doesn’t scheme to rest his lingering gaze on you when you exit the shower wrapped in nothing but your towel, he just makes sure you’re fully finished so that he can go shower as well. 

You wearing his t-shirts and hoodies means nothing, and him licking the last bit of ice cream off your spoon isn’t even a thing to consider. Him jerking it off to the sounds of your pathetic, lying moans when Denki slams you on the other side of his bedroom wall doesn’t mean shit. You imagining it’s him on top of you instead of the boisterous blond is just an intrusive thought.

Kiba hates how fake you sound whenever you spread your legs for your stupid boyfriend. He could give it to you so much better, that you’d be moaning for real. He’s older; more experienced. Looks so fine that he’s drowning in pussy, but the only one he wants to pound is yours. Fuck it until you’re crying, begging him to stop. Until you’re full of his cum and he’s pushing it back in, in, in. Filling all of your little holes, making you gasp and sob.

Even his friends had noticed his lack of interest in other girls as of late. How he prefers staying home, playing house, instead of going to parties and making his mind numb with cheap liquor and bad pot like the rest of the group.

Because that way, he gets to see you prance around in your slutty little outfits during the peak of summer when it gets really hot. He gets to see your smooth legs, your nipples poking against the thin top, the way your skirt bounces when you stomp down the stairs to annoy him when he’s watching TV or playing a game. 

He is able to see your panties and how plump your cunt looks when you bend over to pick something up - the puffy lips eating up the flimsy cotton every single time. Gets to see just the mere hint of the curve of your ass when you step on your tippy-toes to reach for something on the high shelf of the cupboard and your pretty sundress rises with the movement.

And you know that he looks. You can feel his feverish gaze burning holes into your back and can hear the stifled groan he practically has to swallow down to resist voicing it into the hazy air between you. But it’s the way he readjusts himself that gets you hot; it’s the hard bulge that becomes prominent just underneath the elastic waistband of his grey Nike gym shorts that takes the cake. The way he turns right afterwards, stomps up the stairs and slams the door of his bedroom shut so angrily that the entire house shakes and his mom yells for him to get a fucking grip.

And some nights, when you’re feeling particularly daring and lonely, you even climb into his bed if he’s home just to provoke him further and give him more evidence of what a messed up slut you really are. When the hour is late, Kiba can hear the creak of his door. He feigns sleep when he feels the weight of you right next to him as the mattress dips a couple of padded footsteps later. Can hear the tired sigh as you lift his arm that’s still heavy from sleep, nuzzle your face into his chest and just breathe.

Nothing ever happens. You wake up before him on most mornings, still wrapped tightly in his embrace and leave his room in the same quiet manner you’ve entered it. And that's good, that’s proper, but some sick part of you that’s hidden so, so deep still wishes something did happen. 

Especially because you can feel the ridge of his cock poking you through his pyjama bottoms when you go to peel yourself away from him. Feel him pressing against the back of your thigh and the curve of your ass; all thick and heavy, hips slowly rolling by pure instinct in his sleep. And knowing how big he is, how hard he is just for you - his little sister - it drives you nuts. Turns you absolutely insatiable.

It feels like you’re drugged when he refuses to let you go. As that strong, muscular arm tightens its hold around your middle; thick fingers digging into your t-shirt, just mere inches away from slipping under but never quite doing so. It’s like he’s refusing to let you run away from him even in his slumber, making you outright have to force your way out of his bed before your parents could find you like this.

‘Bonding’, Tsume tends to call it. In truth, she’s just happy that the constant fights that had ensued between you during the first couple of years of sharing a household are done and over with. That the phase of her son acting up as a troublesome teenager, and her stepdaughter being a confused pre-teen just entering that point of her life is at long last finished.

But your father thinks otherwise. Sure, you might be nineteen now and Kiba is well on his way towards his mid-twenties, but he still thinks of the peace that has surprisingly settled between you as something filthy and improper. So much so, that he is even hesitant to leave you both alone to watch the bags as Tsume and Denki call after him to join them for another swim.

“It’s okay, dad. Really.” You grin, stretching out your legs on your own towel, “Kib and I will watch over the stuff. Go have fun, I think Denki wants to impress you with his swimming skills.”

It isn’t a lie at least. A truth good enough to soothe your father’s worries for a short while. You’re in public, after all.

And now - sitting completely alone with your big brother - it is your turn to leer. Staring amusedly, your own teeth find solace in chewing on your plump bottom lip as you watch the curve of his Cupid’s bow touch the ripe fruit. He opens his mouth slowly: the sharp canines he’s inherited from your stepmother puncturing the skin before it gives in and finally lets him in. 

You don’t know why on earth watching him eat a damn peach is making your stomach tighten with heat and your thoughts aimless, but you suppose that it’s something in the way his mouth moves. In the way you can see just a mere hint of his pink tongue as he laps up a droplet of nectar before it becomes too much and it overflows. 

And you just can’t help yourself, no matter how hard you try. The moment the sugar dribbles down his chin, you’re reaching forward; wiping it off of his jaw with the tip of your finger.

“Sorry,” you say. “You had a bit of peach juice there.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t look at you when he expresses the gratitude, but he doesn’t have to. You can see the flutter of a muscle in his cheek as you swipe your thumb over the corner of his mouth. Even the cords within his neck turn stiff at the touch. 

“You’re so messy,” you continue softly, pulling your hand back after a moment too long for it to be considered fully platonic. You want to lick the damn sugar off your finger pad. Share the peach. But you do neither of those things, because you’re in public and you’ve already risked enough. Your father is close by and watching - you know he is. Just like your boyfriend.

Oh. Right… You have a boyfriend.

“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” Kiba pushes the sunglasses back onto his eyes before taking another bite. He chews, nice and slow; fighting back the ghost of a smirk as he looks at the waves. “‘m so fuckin’ sloppy, huh?”

Sloppy. The word sounds so dirty albeit just as appealing when he says it. “Yeah…” Your spit tastes thick in your mouth now. Why does he have to be so blatant about it? So provocative? “Definitely sloppy.”

“Mhmmm.” He turns to look at you as he bites into the peach again. As he sucks the sweet juice into his mouth and grins right afterwards when he sees you looking. “Can’t help it… It is what it is, lil’ sis.”

Your heart is pounding from the desire for him to pound you. “I don’t mind.”

“I know you don’t.” 

He sounds so self-assured; so smug. Like he knows exactly what’s cooking inside your mind at that moment. Did he see the texts you’ve exchanged with your best friend about him? No, there is no way - your phone is locked and he doesn’t know the code. So, he’s probably just messing with you. Pulling you on some sick joke he finds amusing, like he always does. Just to bully you, despite the ceasefire between you.

Still, your breath hitches as you murmur, “You know?”

He perks up at the submissive tone you voice. Tips his chin down so that he can look at you above the edge of the sunglasses. He literally ogles at you now, and his eyes are just so fucking dark when they meet your own - the darkest shade you’ve ever seen him have as he says, “Yeah… I know.”

To others, the private little exchange between you and your stepbrother might seem like nothing odd at all. They’d look at you and think that the brief smile he gives you and the wide-eyed look you give him in return are nothing more but a sign of taunting teasing between two rivalrous siblings. 

But they don’t feel the tension like you two do. Don’t recognize the buzz that vibrates between you right after his smile fades and your look turns doe-eyed, and how it makes both of your faces warm and your skin riddled with flashes of sticky sweat.

They don’t know anything.

—

It unexpectedly starts to rain when you get back home from the beach. By night-time, the thunderstorm is at its peak.

And you, you’ve wound up in your big brother’s bed again the moment you’ve said goodnight to your boyfriend over the phone, but this time under the pretense that you’re scared of the thunder and lightning that cracks and whips on the dark sky that haunts you on the other side of his window. 

The glass nearly rattles from how strong the gusts of wind are. In truth, you find the weather comforting, but any excuse works if you get to sleep with your stepbrother; even if you have to deduce yourself to a role of the scared little girl because of it.

The alarm clock on his nightstand flashes 2:03 in the morning as you do your routine of lifting his arm and slipping under the thin duvet to squeeze close to him a moment after. As you entangle your limbs with his longer, stronger ones and just breathe.

You manage to get one breath in. Two. Three. By the time you finish the fourth, you’re so dazed by how good he smells that you almost fail to realize that something isn’t quite the same this time around.

But the hushed, derisive snicker your big brother lets out into the dark tells you all you need to know. 

He’s awake this time. Still a bit tipsy from the couple of beers he’s had with your dad as they watched the football game before bed - you’ve seen him head to his room with a rather droopy grin and a slurred ‘G’night, sis.’.

Which also means he’s braver now. Willing to take the risk.

“Now what’s this, mm?” Kiba’s voice is deep, the drawl lazy and seemingly nonchalant as he rests his chin on top of your head and pulls you so, so close. The alcohol that’s still feebly coursing his veins dulls out his sense of morality. Expands the limits. “Wanna tell your big brother what you’re doin’ in his bed this late at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you admit quietly, goosebumps forming over the skin he touches and leaves burning in his wake. “It’s storming outside.” Dread trickles down your neck as you say it. 

“Mhmm,” he hums in acknowledgement of the thundering weather outside, smiling into your hair. He loves it whenever you come to him. Loves it that he doesn’t even have to lift a finger, and you’ll come running straight into the open arms of your dear big brother. His whisper is shiver-inducing as he says, “You scared?”

“Yeah.” It’s true, you are scared. Not because of the storm, though. Rather because of him and how touchy he’s getting; tired mind intoxicated by beer and you.

“Yeah?”

God, the way he says the word is so enticingly patronizing. It nearly makes you drip from how quick the coil inside your stomach tightens with it. How fast your insides turn to mush as heat spills, especially when he bends his knee and pushes it right between your legs.

He doesn’t even give you a warning, but perhaps it’s better this way. I mean, why should he have to admit to doing dirty things to his little sister?

You gasp at the sudden pressure. Squirm as the seam of your flimsy pyjama shorts rubs against your clit as he pushes even higher up until you’re practically straddling his thigh. “H-Hey...”

His fingers tangle into your hair before he presses your face against his chest to shut you up. You can hear his steady heartbeat hammering against your ear. The sound is rhythmic, but instead of calming you, it causes you to feel all the more on edge. This isn’t what you expected. 

Yes, it is what you wanted, but are you truly ready to give into your desires? To finally admit that you’re attracted to your stepbrother? That you want to feel full with his cock, to feel the stretch, to experience his body do wonders to your own as he proves to you that all the jokes he exchanges with his stupid friends whenever they come over aren’t just talk? To cheat on your boyfriend, who you got into a relationship with just to forget about your big brother in the first place?

Kiba doesn’t care, or perhaps he doesn’t want to care enough to know the answer. No, he’s drunk and needy; hot and bothered because you’re here, in his bed, dressed in nothing but a tank top and a pair of tiny shorts. So he lets his fingers hook around the edge of your jaw as he tips it up to make eye contact. And as soon as your eyes meet his own glazed over ones, he smiles into the dark.

It’s the horniest grin you’ve ever seen. He’s so close to you that you can see his sharp teeth glint when the lightning flashes across the sky and splashes some light into his room.

“What,” he says now, his rough palm resting on your pulse point. Your heart is thudding so fast against his finger pads that he can’t help but snort. “What is it?”

Your hands press against his broad chest as you try to catch your breath and steady yourself. Curling your trembling digits, you’re grabbing hold of his t-shirt when he moves his leg to make you feel more friction against your poor cunt. The stimulation isn’t as profound as you’d like it to be over the two layers you’re hiding your pussy underneath, but it’s the fact that it comes from your goddamn stepbrother that makes it so intense.

You try to pull back, but his massive hand slaps against your leg; fingers greedily digging into the fat of your thigh as he bends it at the knee and hooks it over his hip to bring you even closer together.

“A-ah,” he chuckles darkly, applying force to keep you still. “Where d’you think you’re goin’, princess? Not planning on running off, are ya?”

No, you’re not going anywhere. He lets you know it with his actions, with the way he shows his true colours that prove how goddamn possessive an Inuzuka can become if provoked for long enough. You’ve come here completely by your own free will, after all. Have entered the beast’s den by your own choice. He didn’t make you do it.

He didn’t make you wear those skimpy outfits around him. Didn’t force you to smile all coy-like and flutter your eyelashes whenever he’s around. Didn’t coax you into bending over and just teasing the fuck out of him for literal years.

But he is going to make you do other things now. Filthy, nasty things.

And he is going to make you stay until you’re too fucked-out to even pick yourself up from his bed. Until you’re too tired to walk all the way to your room. Too exhausted to tell on him to your father, who had felt bad for judging him so quickly back at the beach, and thus had spent some quality father-son bonding time by drinking some beers and watching the football game Kiba couldn’t give two shits about.

“Kiba,” you whisper your brother’s name, biting back a quiet whimper when his hand trails up and hikes the hem of your shorts up. As quick as the touch is, he pulls back to sneer down at you just as fast. You’re about to let out a sigh of relief, but all that comes out of your mouth instead is a hushed squeal when he smacks your ass and squeezes the plush flesh - all hard and impatient and so potently male, that it makes your eyes blow wide-open up at him in pure shock.

The pang of ache that shoots through you makes your voice shake as you whisper-shout, “St-Stop that!”

“What’re you gonna do if I don’t?” he questions, voice all smug and mean. “Gonna tell on me to your daddy? Gonna tell him how your big brother smacked your ass because you kept sneaking into his room whenever your pussy got wet?”

“I-I’m gonna tell Denki! And I’m not-... I’m not, fuck…!” You can’t believe the disgusting words that are coming out of his mouth. Aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol talking through him, or if he really is that sick of a bastard underneath all that fierce, warm persona that convinced you to bury the hatchet in the first place.

He must be, because now he smacks your ass for a second time. Makes it burn with an ache you’ve never experienced before, and makes you thankful for the raging thunderstorm outside that dulls out the noise it causes. Because if your parents found you like this… You’d be a goner. Disowned by the family - the both of you.

“What’s that dunce gonna do, huh? He can’t even fuck you right… Can’t even make you cum properly.” He laughs now; a huffed, mocking sort of sound as he looks at you, all complacent. “You think I can’t hear those fake moans you keep lettin’ out whenever he swings by? You sound worse than the whores on my PC. But you’re not a whore, are you? You’re nice and tidy, good in school, never late to cheerleading practice. A proper good girl that wants to cum just as properly, but can’t because her idiot boyfriend doesn’t know how to make her cum.”

You’re speechless. Absolutely numb from the fever that’s overtaking your body as he pushes his weight against you and makes you lay flat on your back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist when his hand finds your throat. He gives it a firm squeeze as he talks. Makes you close your eyes shut as you try to inhale a shallow breath.

You can’t focus; he’s just so hard as he rubs himself against you. When he leans in, the heat of his body is so intense that it nearly makes your skin sizzle as his cock languidly rubs against your clothed pussy. It makes your hole clench around nothing. Makes your walls flutter with the demand of being stroked.

“I can, though. I know how to make a good girl like you cum. And it’s what you want, isn’t it? Your mean brother’s cock in that little cunt of yours, stretching you out… Makin’ you spill everything you’ve got, before he does the same.” He’s so close to you that the narrow space between your bodies is nearly non-existent. He’s big; massive. He covers your smaller frame entirely whilst on top of you, shoulders broad and tense as they flex above you before he dips in to press his mouth almost against your own.

The proximity makes you feral. You angle your head to reach him better, but all he does is smirk as the tip of your nose touches his own.

“Aww, you wanna kiss me, now? What on earth happened to ‘stop’?” The snicker he lets out when you try to kiss him is so taunting that it makes your head spin with hurt. Especially as he releases your throat to pat your cheek roughly. “Tell you what, I’ll kiss you if you suck my cock first. How does that sound?”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat at how inexplicably lewd he’s getting. Does he really want that? His little sister’s mouth around his dick; sucking, drooling, pleasuring? Or is he just messing with you again, trying to force a reaction out of you just for the fun of it? 

You need to ask him. Need to know. “Are you serious right now? You really want me to… To…”

“Mhmm.” He nearly purrs as he hums, his voice so quiet that it sends electricity buzzing right through your brain. “And if you do a good enough job, I’ll lick you in return, too.” He leans into your ear, his warm exhale brushing your earlobe as he adds, “I’ll lick you all over, sis. I promise.”

Your big brother is a bully when he shows the side of him you’ve forgotten he owned over the years of faux peace. He’s exactly what he was when you were younger and hating each other: manipulative, mean, a pain in the ass, but now with the addition of being fucking hot. So fucking hot, in fact, that you become aroused as he looks down at you and sneers at the dumbfounded expression that crosses your face, all smug and egocentric-like. Especially when his large hands wrap around your hips and his thumbs slip underneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Or, y’know,” he says, a suggestive lilt to his voice as he starts tugging at the fabric, “we could save up on time and do both at once?” 

“Both at… Once?”

“You deaf or something?” He sighs at the dazed expression you portray and clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Tsch. I want you to sit on my face, dummy.”

Oh, lord. He talks about it like he’s scheduling a meeting with his clumsy assistant, and not the possibility of doing 69 with his stepsibling.

But it’s thrilling in a way. How confident he is in himself and how unashamed he is about what he wants. Your voice is merely a squeak of approval because of it as you say, “Well, o-okay.”

You don't even try to fight it.

Kiba grins. He’s perfect when he smiles, he always is. “Good girl. Now let’s get you naked before I lose my fuckin’ patience. Wanna taste you on my tongue already... I've waited for ages.”

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.

He works quickly, showing you no respect whatsoever as he changes his mind and takes off your shirt first. Your tank top hasn’t even hit the floor yet and his hand is already exploring your bare chest; calloused fingertips flicking and pinching your nipples before dipping down to trace the curve of your breasts.

He chuckles at the way your chest heaves with the touch, mind buzzing with improper thoughts from seeing your upper half naked for the very first time. He’s staring down at your tits all hungry, like a wild animal of sorts. Making you insecure and self-conscious about your appearance.

Your cheek presses into the pillow that smells just like him as you attempt to hide yourself. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Fuck no.” His voice becomes deeper as he refuses your plea, breathing turning slightly shallower, “I’m looking ‘cause you’re hot as fuck, princess. Your loser boyfriend is one lucky man for getting to see this all the time, so quit whining.”

Something inside you lights up at the praise that he’s hidden underneath all the meanness, but you’re simply too dazed to think about your lovely boyfriend you’re cheating on and that he insists on mentioning to make you feel bad. Too overwhelmed from the way he begins to kiss your collarbone before moving even lower.

He has to cover your mouth when you start to whimper as soon as his tongue swirls around your nipple and he sucks it into his mouth. He suckles on it, all warm and skilled, making you arch your back and find purchase in his hair with your trembling fingers as your whimpers turn into muffled moans behind his palm. 

And he - he groans when you run your digits along his scalp and tug on the chestnut strands with intricate fervour. The sound that leaves his throat is so masculine and deep that it makes your chest vibrate as he latches his mouth to you again and sucks even harder in response. Every single time his incisor pokes the sensitive bud, your pussy clenches around nothing. It’s pure torture.

You’re unable to think straight. All you can think about is him. Him, him, him. And because of it, you simply let him do what he wants. You allow him to manhandle you into the 69 position with those rough hands of his, tossing and turning you like you’re a toy of sorts until you find yourself on top of him; body completely bare and cunt exposed right above his face.

He laughs, now. “You’re drippin’.”

He says it like it’s a bad thing - in that mocking, derisive sort of tone that he’s an expert at using around you. It makes your waterline sting with tears of embarrassment as your hands rest on the hardness hiding underneath his sweatpants. “I-I’m sorry.” Fuck, he’s so big. You’re scared to pull it out.

“Why?” His finger traces your wet slit as you try to free him from the confines of his clothes, despite your jittery nerves telling you no. The squelching sounds from how wet you are, are so indecent that you’re barely able to focus on what you’re doing.

Your face is burning up and you feel dizzy from all the dirty things he’s doing to you. From how he’s spreading your slick all over your puffy pussy and making sure you hear how fucking wet you are for him. “For… Nnh, for being like this.”

“You’re sorry for being filthy?” He pauses for a second before he snickers at the way you jump when he presses his thumb against your clit and rubs it. “For getting drenched for your big brother?”

“Yes, I’m sorry for all of that. Ah, s-so sorry, Kib…!” Your legs are trembling and you’re turning into a panting mess from how he touches you now. Especially when you feel him press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. 

“It’s all right,” Kiba says. “I’m just as fucked in the head as you are. No need to cry ‘bout it.”

Your eyes are squeezing shut, a silent ‘Fuck!’ leaving your lips when his mouth makes contact with your soft cunt a moment afterwards. As his warm tongue laps up the sugary slick and you’re sent burying your face into the bulge you’ve never succeeded in pulling free, now in a weak attempt to fight back the most animalistic moan you’ve ever managed to produce.

You try to pay him back with clumsy groping and eager fondling. Try to concentrate on pleasuring the hardness that must certainly ache by now, despite that his hands are wrapping around your hips and he’s pushing you down; making your thighs tremble and your legs turn to jelly as his tongue starts prodding at your sopping hole.

But you simply can’t concentrate. Can’t focus enough to give him a proper blowjob when you finally do manage to pull his cock free from his sweatpants and boxers. And Christ, he’s so big. Throbbing, hot and so hard. All for you - his little stepsister. You can feel every vein as you drag your tongue along his length. As you grab him with both dainty hands and wrap your mouth around the sensitive head.

You can feel his fingers tighten around your hips by the time the salt of his pre-cum finishes melting on your tongue. You know damn well that he wants to say something bitchy and be a smartass about you taking so damn long to do it, but you just take him deeper down your throat to shut him up. Suck him harder.

And the feral groan he lets out right afterwards is like a reward. You relish the little whimper he voices when you start to pump and drool all over his dick, coating every inch with glimmering saliva. When you begin to suck him like a proper slut.

Time passes. What started with meek kitten licks has now turned into a full whorish blowjob, and you just know that he’s loving it. So much, in fact, that he’s quiet and keeps his witty remarks all to himself. It’s a blessing of sorts.

You’re nearly shuddering above him from how good he is at spoiling your clit. How every laggard swipe of his tongue feels like you’re touching heaven. He’s teasing you, not allowing you to cum; constantly keeping you leaning over the edge, but never quite tipping over. It’s like he knows when you’re close. Knows when to slow down his pace just enough to keep you there without going all the way.

You wonder why, wonder why he isn’t letting you erupt into pure bliss when he’s so good. And the answer is simple:

He wants you to cum on his cock the first time around.

So when minutes pass and he’s had enough, and you’re slobbering all over his dick; lazily sucking on it with slow movements of up and down and tasting him all over, he pushes you off with the lewdest ‘pop!’ and makes you roll onto your back and bend your knees until you’re lying down with both of your legs propped on top of his shoulders.

You’re wide-eyed as you stare up at him, trying to catch your breath. He’s so messy, your arousal coats his chin and mouth as he pants, t-shirt clinging to his torso, sweatpants just barely clinging to his hips, hair all askew and wild. He’s got one hand wrapped around your ankle, the other on your thigh.

You try not to let out a sound when he applies force to make you slide down the mattress so that he can pull you closer, but a tiny gasp still slips the moment he aligns himself with you. 

“Enough of that,” he mumbles, expression stern, “I wanna fuck now.”

“Fu-Fuck…?”

“Yeah.” He squeezes your cheeks - his palm nearly larger than your face - and makes your lips purse. “Focus, airhead. What did you think would happen?”

What a savage brute. He hasn’t even fingered you properly yet and he wants to fuck? How the hell are you supposed to stretch wide enough to accept that enormous cock of his? Better yet, how are you supposed to handle it moving in and out of you?

“Condom,” you whisper dazedly, fingers curling around the bed sheet as you try to lift yourself up with the help of your elbows. “We need a condom. I’m not on-”

“It’s okay, I’ll pull out.” He presses his hand to your chest to push you back down on the mattress. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Kiba, I don’t think-”

“Shut up.” You blink profusely at the sudden demand, pouty mouth quivering as he makes your legs bend even further when he leans in and presses his hand right next to your head. He kisses your calf, your ankle. “I’m your big brother… If I wanna fuck you raw, you should fuckin’ let me.”

You can feel him nudging your tight hole. Feel how wet, drenched and sticky everything is. How much it arouses you. And yet, you still try to put up a fight, despite that your toes are curling, “Kiba, I-I-...”

“Let me fucking in, y/n,” he says. “I mean, it’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

Are you? You have no other choice. He’s just too good at reading you. So you do what he asks of you - what he demands of you. 

You let him in.

And he laughs - laughs this awful, manipulative sort of snicker as he feels your soft cunt gush milky slick and suck him in. As he relishes yet another win, because he’s older, stronger; prevalent. The superior sibling that could turn your life into living hell if he wanted to.

“You’re so fucked up,” he whispers as he lets your legs slip from his shoulders to his waist so that he can rest his forehead against your own. He’s staring into your eyes, boring right into your very soul with that swirling amber as he adds quietly, “You’ll do anything just to get fucked by your big brother, huh?”

“Kiba, s-stop it.” You whine when he pushes in deeper; as he makes you burn in the middle from how he’s splitting you open. “Just… Stop.”

“What if your daddy hears? Hears you moaning like a lil’ slut ‘cause of me?” His pupils are so big, but you can’t keep looking at him because of how much it hurts from the way he sinks into your warmth and bottoms out. From how overwhelming it is as he stays firmly in place, making you take it. “I mean, shit, I’m not scared of him. But I know you are. He thinks you’re this godsend of a daughter, when in reality you’re just as dirty as me.”

“Stop talking…!” Your eyes burn with tears as you glare up at him. You don’t know if it’s because of the pleasure you feel as he stretches you out, or because of how badly he hurts you with his words.

“He’d be so disappointed in you if he saw you like this. Your boyfriend, too,” he continues, paying no mind to the way you start to squirm underneath him. “But that’s fine, right? The only thing that matters is that I approve of you. Even though it turns you into a cheating whore, hah.”

He forces you to look at him the same moment you try to turn away because of the guilt to flash throughout you. His hand finds your cheek, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh. You’re trying to fight against him, and you’re ashamed to admit it, but your heart flutters when he kisses you. When he forces his tongue inside your mouth so deep that you can taste yourself and you fall into this wonderfully submissive stillness in mere seconds. 

He’s looking down at you now, the corners of his lips twitching from how into it you are, feeling his chest swelling up with pride and arrogance. He’s toxic, Kiba knows it, but he just can’t stop pouring his frustrations upon you that have gathered over the years. You’re like his personal punching bag. You’ll take anything he throws at you just because it’s from him.

“Feels good?” he whispers as he pulls back to kiss your neck. To trace his tongue all over your pulse point before sucking on it lightly. He’s promised that he’ll lick you all over, after all. Even if it leaves marks.

“Mhmmm,” you manage, completely out of breath from the way he slowly draws his hips back just to pummel them back into you even harder than before. It’s just missionary, the position rather vanilla, but it’s fucked up because you can see his face during it. You can kiss him and see all of him - your stepbrother.

And he feels just so heavy inside you. So thick and hot that it makes you incapable of speaking coherently. He’s got this dazed look on his face, the one only a warm cunt can give to a man, and you’re feeling absolutely obsessed because of it. Absolutely feral. 

“I wanna fuck you until you can’t stand properly, princess,” he says quietly. “Until that cute pussy of yours is hurting so bad that you’re walkin’ funny and you can’t sit like a normal person during dinner. I want your dad looking weird at you. I want your stupid boyfriend getting suspicious of us.”

“No… K-Kiba...”

“I want that dunce to smell me on you the next time he fucks you.” His thrusts are getting harsher as he keeps whispering the most outrageous things into your panting mouth, fighting back a smile at the way you’re beginning to claw at his t-shirt in protest.

“No!”

“Yes. I want him to know your stepbrother fucks you better than him.”

You want to moan, to scream - do anything to release this pent-up fire within your veins, but he keeps you quiet by kissing you deep every single time you try to make a sound.

More time passes. He never stops or goes easy on you during it.

Both of your bodies are drenched in sweat. His thrusts are getting jerky, irregular. He’s been fucking you for nearly an hour, changing positions, melting his body into your own, reaching deeper than anyone ever has before. 

And you feel so bad inside your mind for letting him do all of this, but your body feels twice as good as he does it. You’re burning up, all warm and tingly, toes curling, every cell absolutely spent as you keep clenching around him and leaking milky slick. 

The first orgasm that he pulled out of you made you see stars. The second had made your jaw slacken as he fucked you from behind so hard you became one with the mattress and lost yourself, until he had to pat your cheek to bring you back to him.

By the third climax, you’re so, so tired. And he knows it, but he still makes you take more. Makes you take him entirely as he looks up at you and flashes you the most charming smile, even though he’s forcing you to ride him. Every muscle within your legs burns whilst you’re bouncing up and down his cock, but you try to endure the ache just so that he’ll be happy with you.

And you can tell that he’s close. His upper lip keeps quivering slightly and his dick is throbbing inside you; you swear that you can feel it getting hotter as it keeps stroking your sensitive walls.

It’s time you slipped off of his lap. Went down on him and swallowed every last droplet of cum he’ll give you.

Except that he doesn’t let you do that.

“Did I tell you to stop?” His hands find purchase on your hips when you try to pull back. He gives them a squeeze. Makes you keep bouncing as he gives you that same mischievous smile from before. 

You’re growing nervous. The nerves make your muscles clench, thus making him groan in delight. “K-Kiba, you’re gonna-”

“Yeah… I changed my mind.” He looks at you, eyes dark. “Imma fill you up, pretty.” 

His statement makes your mouth dry. What?!

“You can’t,” you cry out the moment realization hits, voice all hushed and petrified. “Y-You can’t, I’m not on the pill, Kiba. You can’t…!”

“Shh, I’ll drive you to the pharmacy first thing in the morning, yeah? I promise. Now keep quiet.”

“No, no, no, I-”

He uses force when you try slipping off of him, taking advantage of his strength to overpower you as he grips your hips and pushes you back into the mattress. You’re attempting to get away from him so feverishly now, trying to push him back by pressing your hands against his jaw and cheek, but he just won’t budge. He just grabs a hold of your wrists with one hand, clamps your mouth shut with the other.

“You’re gonna be a good little sister and take the load your brother gives you, ‘kay?” He’s nearly delirious from how good your pussy feels as it tightens around him and tries to milk him dry as he pushes in so deep he bullies your womb. “Mm, see? You’re cumming just thinkin’ ‘bout it, hah… You want my kids, or somethin’? Want me to breed you? Imagine how fucked up that would be… Hah.”

“N-No, m’not… Kiba! Kiba, please, I-...! I can’t-”

“Stop… Telling me… What I can and can’t… Do. For fuck’s sake, shut up.”

He doesn’t listen. What he does, though, is let out that delightful sigh as he uses you as his very own cocksleeve and forces you to bring him to his finish by pushing you up and down his dick. He rolls his eyes back and grunts in the same way your boyfriend has a habit of doing as he forces those thrusts out and tips over the edge. As he groans the sickest of profanities and feels his balls tighten until he’s finally done; filling you up to the brim, coating you entirely white with his thick, warm seed even though you’ve told him not to.

It makes it all the sweeter just because of that reason alone.

And you’re trembling underneath him, eyes closed as your own orgasm hits you. As you feel your tummy clench along with your walls, accepting every drop his cock gives you as it keeps twitching inside you. And he can’t stop moving. He’s lazily pushing it all in, pushing his cum even deeper like he actually wants you to get pregnant with his kid - his hand hard on your cheek and his mouth panting right against your neck.

“So good, fuck… You’re so good. We gotta get our parents to separate so that I can show you off.”

But the moment he lets you go and slips out of you, you’re pushing him away. Tears turn you bleary-eyed as you grab your clothes and put them on as hastily as you can, despite that your entire body is aching and screaming in protest. Despite that you're stumbling to the door with shaky legs and leaking his goddamn cum.

“Leaving so soon?” He’s smiling as he rubs at his eye, running a tired hand through his damp hair. “No cuddles?”

“Fuck you,” you say, sniffling and choking back the tears as you pull on your underwear.

He snorts, the sound derisive. Smug. “You just did.”

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do. So much that you came just now, right?”

He never gets to hear your answer. You’re out of his room before you can jump him and claw his fucking eyes out.

—

The only promise Kiba has kept so far is the pharmacy one.

His eyes are hidden behind the sleek sunglasses once more as he waits for you in front of the building that Saturday morning. He’s got one ankle leisurely crossed over the other whilst he stands; leaning against the hood of his car and smoking a cigarette that you hate the smell of.

Approaching him like this makes you feel like the whole thing never even happened at all. Some part of you thinks you’ve just imagined it all, but the soreness you feel all over your body tells you otherwise. As well as the morning-after pill you take right in front of him so that he’s satisfied.

“What’s this?” He yanks the small paper bag from your hands and pushes you away when you try to grab it back from him. 

“I-It’s nothing. Hey, give that back!”

Kiba chuckles when he opens the bag and sees the box of protection you’ve bought along with the pill before he shoves it back into your arms. “You wanna tell me somethin’, sis?” You want more?

Heat engulfs your face as you hang your head and drop your gaze to the ground. “No.” Yes.

“Aha... Fine with me.” He takes one last drag of the cigarette before tossing it with a flick of his fingers. “Wanna get some ice cream? I’m off work today.”

“No.”

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“C’mooon, I’ll pay.”

Silence meets him. And then a meek, “... Fine.”

Kiba’s grin is so big it takes up half of his face as he ruffles your hair. “Good girl. Tell you what, I'll let you get any topping you want if you let me bend you over your desk tonight.”

And you know it’s fucked up, but your big brother's approval just makes you tingle all over again as you give him a curt nod.

[delirious-donna]

Who? [Kiba Inuzuka]

an: this is a repost of an old story I wrote for @tired-biscuit who we all know is the biggest kiba girlie on the planet. I've reworked it and added an extra 2k (sorry not sorry). Hopefully, it gets a few reads.

pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x female reader

warnings: NSFW, modern AU, friends to lovers trope, characters in late 20s, angst, toxic males (sorry Asuma, Obito, Itachi and Hidan simps!), pussy eating, blowjob after sex, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, biting and marking.

Masterlist

He eyed you with the utmost disdain.

Glowing amber eyes raked from the toes of your scuffed Converse to the brim of the baseball hat that peeked from under your hoodie. A sleek dark eyebrow rose, stern in admonishment of your haggard appearance and you could scream at him for it.

You knew you looked god awful—felt it too—but did he need to sneer quite so fucking openly? Even from the door of the coffee shop, you knew he was going to give you absolute hell, motherfucker couldn't help himself at the best of times. Some best friend he was.

Kiba Inuzuka appeared his usual well-put-together self, the epitome of the aloof bad boy that most girls had that annoying phase of wanting more than reason should allow. Sickening really, but you loved him regardless. Platonically, of course… of course.

He sat with arms crossed at your favoured table in the back corner, his arms tightly crossed over his wide chest and forcing the cotton of the black tee he wore to work to its limit to contain the muscles beneath. You spied his foot stretched out as he practically manspread in his chair, and the ominous tap of his heavy biker boot sounded like the tolls of a church bell as you walked toward him and your doom.

The strands of his chestnut brown hair were tousled in a sexy 'I just got fucked' style that was meant to look like he had rolled right out of whatever bed he had spent the previous night in. However, you knew the truth of it. That particular look took him a straight forty-five minutes to perfect each morning, and you were tempted to ruffle your hand through it just to piss him off more but you didn’t have a death wish–not today.

You always gave him shit for how long it took him to get ready in the mornings, many a time in your college years you had screeched about him being worse than the girls, and you were not wrong. If any of his floozies were to find out about his skincare regime their little airhead brains would likely implode from shock. Perhaps you should never have taught him that he needed to use more than bar soap on his face each morning, for the man owned more luxury beauty products than you did now.

"You look like shit," he offered with a shit-eating grin on his annoyingly handsome and punchable face.

The onset of summer highlighted the fresh dusting of freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and his usual sun-kissed skin darkened further from the abundance of scorching sunlight. Kiba was a true summer child, not something you shared with him as you opted to hide from the dangerous rays of the sun until the weather cooled into a more agreeable autumn temperature.

"Well, fuck you too, dickhead!"

You threw yourself haphazardly into the opposite chair, face screwed up from the squeal of metal on the polished floor and pouted.

"Could've at least bought me a drink. Not like you don't know what I like," you moaned sullenly.

Glancing over your shoulder you could see the line was almost at the door, and the thought of standing in it to get your much-needed fix of caffeine sounded like hell on earth. With your best puppy dog eyes, you rounded back to Kiba who was watching you fixedly, jaw set in a firm line.

"Oh no. I already stood in that queue, had to almost sell my soul to Satan himself to get the last apple danish. It's not my fault that you're so hungover that you can't face standing up for longer than a minute," he all but yelled at you.

Kiba was more pissed than you had expected, you must have really caused a scene for him to be this level of mad at you. Caffeine was your biggest weakness, and he knew it. Groaning loudly as you rubbed at your aching temples, you tried to replay the snippets of what you remembered from the previous night.

Anger snapped at your fingers. The burn of absolute fury had you rubbing at your chest in discomfort, and you well remembered the slap you had landed with the stinging pain that still lingered on your palm. A face you would much rather forget loomed into your mind's eye, tall and dark-haired. A cocky lopsided smile on his face as he tried to wave away your well-founded accusations.

Goddamn Obito Uchiha, he was the devil incarnate. Nothing but a cheating scumbag that had promised you the world but in the end gave you only hell and one heck of a headache.

You could recall the heated whispers of your girlfriends, the words that had curdled your stomach and caused your pulse to pound in your ears. Your boyfriend had been seen by multiple reliable sources engaged in acts that should solely be reserved for you. He had fallen back into the arms of his ex, and he didn't even have the decency to end things before he went and stuck his dick in her.

Sure, you could have handled things better, you knew that, but he had it coming to him.

"Kiba," you whined, "I know that I probably didn't do myself any favours last night, but you can't tell me that he wasn't asking for it? The bastard cheated on me! A slap to the face was hardly the end of the world..."

You fell silent whilst his stare iced over instantly.

The warmth of his amber-flecked eyes was gone in a heartbeat, cold fury descended over his face as he leant forward with his arms braced on the table. You couldn't help but admire the black ink that ran from his left elbow and slipped beneath the sleeve of his fitted t-shirt. His bicep flexed as he pointed a thick finger in your face.

"Are you serious? You think I'm pissed at you for throwing a piss poor slap at that self-centred prick?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Be quiet," he added as your mouth popped open to shoot back your reply.

"Course he deserved it, and the rest of what he got..."

You frowned at the ominous statement in confusion, suddenly eyeing his hands intently, and as you had suspected, the knuckles were raw and split open in places. That only ever happened when… Icy dread whispered down your spine at the unwelcome thought.

"What I am downright furious about is the scene you made after that slap. Don't you remember shouting your damn head off, screeching like a fucking banshee for 'that bitch' as you called her? Must have slipped your mind that you stormed right across the bar, literally pushing over your friends that just wanted to help and then threw up all over the pinball machine, yeah?"

You blanched, literally feeling the colour drain from your face as you did indeed recall flashes of what he spat at you so venomously. All you wanted was for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, instead, you raised your hands to cover your face, or at least, you tried.

A rough hand wrapped around your wrist and forcefully removed it from your mortified face.

"Uh-uh, I got more to say and you are gonna listen, so perk those little ears up mama. I could forgive you yelling like a lunatic and spewing your load, god knows I'm more than aware you're such a damn lightweight. What I cannot forgive is you running out the door and going fuck knows where!"

He was getting louder and you cringed.

It felt like a thousand eyes were on the pair of you, and it made the introvert in you crumble like a sandcastle being overwhelmed by the ocean. You had wondered why you'd awoken in your childhood bedroom, why the window was wide open and your dad was holding a baseball bat over his head as you emerged from the cocoon of bedsheets. Old habits die hard and sneaking in and out of your bedroom window proved to be one of them even though you had long moved out of your parents’ home.

Your mouth was drier than a desert, tongue heavy in your mouth as Kiba finished his tirade. He huffed through his nose like an angry bull, and with only the jut of his jaw, he silently demanded a response. The problem was, you didn't know what to say, surely you were out of excuses for the poor choices you had made. It seemed like this was a cycle you were meant to repeat from now until the end of time.

Step One – find a new boyfriend who would quickly become your obsession.

Step Two – Kiba would either know them already or meet them only to immediately disapprove and ask you to end things. Ask was putting it mildly too.

Step Three – you and he would argue like squabbling schoolchildren until one of you stormed out, resulting in a period of silence.

Step Four – said boyfriend would reveal his true colours in the most atrocious of ways and annoyingly prove Kiba right time and again.

Step Five – Kiba picked up the broken pieces of your heart and soul, glueing them back together with an ever-patient hand. Although he never failed to tell you, ‘I told you so.’

Repeat.

Shame burned in your chest, the feeling filled you from head to toe and it was enough to intensify the headache that crested through your brain like waves on a turbulent sea. All this and you had no damn coffee to at least take the very edge off your misery.

What could you say?

You had acted like a selfish brat with those actions, your friend had every right to be angry at you and it was only then you noticed the dark shadows that lingered beneath Kiba's eyes. You grabbed his hand and held it tightly in your own when he tried to withdraw, pulling it toward you.

"Please don't tell me you've been up all night cause of me?"

He shrugged and again tried to pull his hand free, but he didn't truly fight you. It was evident to both of you that if he wanted to retrieve his hand, he would be able to do so with ease. He grunted in reply and looked pointedly over your shoulder.

Fuck!

"I'm sorry," you whispered with a slight hiccup, fighting the flow of tears that threatened to spill upon the bougie-looking rustic tabletop. A fingertip traced a gnarled knot, it grounded you and kept you from completely losing it.

"Kiba, please. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I know I've said that before but I mean it, I do, I promise. No more idiots and no more making an absolute fool of myself."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

His tone had returned to a more amicable level, with a smirk unfolding on his lips and you knew that the worst of the storm was over.

Worry had been at the core of his fury, not knowing where you were until you had texted him upon waking at your parent’s house. Frantic fingers flew across the keys whilst listening to your dad's yells of indignation about how you should have used the damn front door instead of climbing in through your old bedroom window.

This really was the straw to break the camel's back.

It was exhausting, the emotional toll enough to have you curled into a tight ball on most nights. True that the highs were intoxicatingly good, but the lows were soul-suckingly abysmal. It was time that you stopped endlessly chasing around after men who were never worth your time and effort. Maybe if you stopped searching, the right man would find you instead.

"I'm done, I promise," you reiterated with a steely determination in your eye.

Kiba tipped back in his chair, assessing your words and finding them to be genuine. His normal goofy smile manifested and it was like the first ray of sunshine you had seen in weeks. He truly was the best friend you could ever ask for, and when he stood with a sigh, you realised you couldn't love him anymore.

"Caramel macchiato?"

Or could you?

–

Kiba had known it wouldn't last, it never did, so why would this time be any different?

The trouble was that he adored you from the tip of your sharp tongue right down to your uncoordinated feet that stumbled and fumbled no matter how hard you tried to keep your balance. The pair of you had been friends since your schooldays and you were both prominent figures within your wider social group. What he didn't like about you, and was not quiet about, was your god-awful taste in men.

You couldn't help it, you were downright adorable so of course, men were always gonna be drawn to you, but did you have to pick the worst scumbags imaginable? He had never believed that one person could get it wrong over and over without at least learning some kind of lesson. It must be some kind of imbalance in your brain and it was astonishing, to say the least.

Over the years you had gone through phases, such as the bad boy stage where you swore blind that you could reform idiotic womanizing players like Asuma Sarutobi. Everyone and their grandmother knew that Asuma could not keep his eyes, and hands, off the ladies. It was never going to matter how many times in a day you fucked him, he was destined to stray and stray he did.

Kiba was there to pick up the pieces, to reassure you that it was most definitely his loss, and no, he didn't think you needed to lose any fucking weight! Why would you even think that? He didn’t always understand women and the fascination with weight was his biggest bugbear. 

Then there was the sophiscated phase which he referred to as the smugly quiet phase. Itachi Uchiha was only a few years older than you but damn did he act like he was a motherfucking elder. The condescending smiles, the little tuts and eye rolls at what he deemed to be childish acts and that low almost monotonous tone that spoke volumes about his feelings, or lack thereof.

Again, Kiba had warned you off but you chose to ignore him as usual.

Instead, he waited until Itachi sat you down and told you abruptly that you were too immature for him, effectively breaking your heart in all the time it took him to blink those feminine-looking long dark eyelashes of his. Kiba was there for you to cry upon his shoulder, to wipe your snotty nose and assure you that you were not immature, that dude was just an old ass fuddy-duddy.

Obito had simply been the latest in a long line of utter morons, and part of him had desperately hoped you would keep your word this time. The one thing he was glad about was that you had never dated within your friendship circle, though it hadn't stopped some of the guys from trying.

You would never know about the times he had forcibly taken aside the likes of Naruto and Shikamaru, the muttered threats of mortal wounds and outright death if they so much as dared to touch you. Kiba was always met with nervous chuckles, reassuring pats on the shoulder and hastily sworn oaths that they would keep their distance. Shikamaru had even looked downright pleased with himself, as if he knew something that Kiba didn’t and that encounter had lingered with him for a long while.

It had been a good month since you swore 'til you were blue in the face that you were done chasing men, a record for you but it had all come tumbling down when Hidan entered the fray.

Hidan–a dude who swore he had no last name. Seriously, who did he think he was, the goddamn pope? Perhaps he should have taken that final step much like Prince had done and changed his name into a symbol, it certainly wouldn't have made him any more pretentious.

The man clearly thought he was the next messiah and Kiba had taken an instant dislike to him. This time it was different and he couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart. Worry gnawed at him, the sense that his guy was more than capable of drawing you into things that could endanger you. The saying goes that you should listen to your gut and Kiba took that very literally. His every instinct screamed of danger and put him on high alert for trouble.

Weeks had passed since you two first started dating and although he desperately wanted to teach you a lesson by giving you the usual silent treatment until you snapped, he refrained. Something stopped him, a niggling doubt that poked him at the most random of times. He wasn’t about to let something befall you on his watch, he’d never forgive himself if it did.

Instead, he watched much like a predator would, assessed this cocky-ass male and learned his weaknesses. Kiba knew Hidan hated to be called out on things, his word was law in his mind and that just grated on the Inuzuka to the worst possible level.

He remembered well the night that Hidan had cornered him as he left the bar restroom, his fist thundering into the wall next to his head in an attempt to intimidate him. It didn't take much for Kiba to snap, yet he managed to hold on to his composure this time. Fought to retain his sanity tooth and nail because he would not play into Hidan's hands, for this was a game to him.

"You wanna fuck her, dontcha?"

"Killing you to know that it's my dick that she sits on each and every chance she gets, huh? Cock hungry little slut that she is."

The inflammatory words had been like grenades exploding behind his eyes, what an utter cunt he was for speaking about you in such a derogatory manner. Kiba had stuffed his white-knuckled fists deep into his pockets, biting his tongue and pushing away from the sneering male without further incident.

In hindsight he was shocked that he had managed to keep it together and not outright punched the fucker–he wanted to–but then again so had Hidan. It was a part of his plan to isolate you, to keep you from your friends and family so that he could steal all your time and attention. He was the definition of a toxic male.

Manipulative fucker!

The Inuzuka drained his beer and let his head fall back against the couch cushions. He was at his wit's end, there was no plan to swirl inside his rampant brain that seemed likely to work.

How long had he ignored his feelings for you?

Too long was the answer. He doubted you were ever going fall into his arms as he wished, but he satisfied himself with being your ever-constant rock. If he could not have you, he would make damn sure that whoever was lucky enough to steal your heart treated you like a princess.

It hurt his heart, but it was better than the emptiness that came with the alternative.

Tired eyes looked towards his phone that was buzzing incessantly on the couch beside him, he palmed the device and looked at the screen to find your name illuminated like a beacon in the darkness of his lounge. He schooled his features although he knew you could not see him and answered the call.

"What's up?"

–

You were a dumbass.

There was no other way to describe how dense you were when it came to your love life. You had to wonder if you had a sign above your head that attracted the absolute worst of mankind to swarm you like insects. Was there something wrong with you? Were you actually a bad person who didn't deserve to be loved?

You made your way to the apartment you knew as intimately as your own.

Feet carrying you ever forward, speeding you towards comfort in the arms of Kiba. He would make it all better, wouldn't he?

For once, you didn't know if he could. There were only so many times you could be knocked down before you could no longer get back up and it was getting harder and harder to find your feet.

Tears threatened to fall but you refused. Curling your hands into tight fists until your nails sank into the flesh, close to puncturing the skin but not quite. It grounded you and kept the tears at bay. How long it would last, you weren't sure.

The ache in your chest eased as Kiba answered the door with worry prominent on his features. Pinched brow and pristine white teeth gnawing his lower lip in earnest. Even before you could step inside, he was reaching for you, dragging you into his strong embrace and wrapping you in his essence.

You sank into him willingly, inhaling his musky spice-infused scent until you were filled with it. It felt like stepping into a perfectly hot bath after a long exhausting day, the tension from your muscles draining away whilst you sagged against the chest that rose and fell in harmony with your own. Kiba wrapped one arm wrapped around your lower back, a thumb rubbing against you in soothing motions whilst the other cradled your head and let you settle into his broad shoulder.

Why couldn't all the men in your life be like this?

Kiba accepted you for who you were and had no interest in changing you into something that would better suit him. His soul was filled with warm light, you saw it through the amber flecks in his eyes, the adorable dimple appearing on his right cheek when he smiled broadly and through his caring actions.

"Tell me everything babe," he cooed softly into your mussed hair, ruffling the strands with his breath.

Where to begin?!

You spent the next hour filling in your longtime friend with every dreaded detail from this afternoon, sipping cautiously on a beer that he offered you once seated on his squishy leather couch. The last thing you wanted to do was succumb to alcohol, but one would settle your nerves you reasoned.

"I knew that guy was a motherfucker," Kiba hollered from the kitchen.

Rolling your eyes at the sheer joy that laced his gravelly tone, you turned to find him bent over searching the fridge aimlessly. His tight butt swayed in the hold of his black jeans, it was such a nice backside and if you were in a better mood you might have tiptoed closer to give it a good hard smack. He’d deserve it.

"Mr Kiba 'I knew he was a motherfucker' Inuzuka. Can't you ever give me a break?"

It hadn't bothered you this much when he first said it, but the more you repeated the words, the more fury infused your veins. It hit you like a tidal wave, turning you from weepy sadness to burning anger in less than a minute.

You popped to your feet, pacing back and forth whilst your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides. Wary amber eyes followed your movements, closing the fridge door with a hard thud that made the magnets rattle. Magnets you had gifted that asshole. The grim set of his jaw was back, irritation so quick to line his features until you were both scowling at one another.

"The fuck? Why have you always got to be so fucking high and mighty? You ain't perfect either, you know!" You were yelling now, raw emotion burning your throat and turning your body into a literal inferno.

"High and mighty? You gotta be joking me. Watch your damn mouth, my patience will only remain for so long. I suggest you calm the fuck down and sit down as well!"

He was making it worse, where was his usual compassion when you stormed like this?

"Or what Kiba? You gonna chuck me out?" You snorted through your nose and missed the flash of pure rage that flitted through his blown-wide pupils.

All six foot two of him towered above you, so close you could feel the heat roiling off his body and licking at your flesh. The back of your legs caught the edge of the glass coffee table and he was grabbing at your upper arms in an instant.

You gasped when his fingers dug into the meat of your arms until you almost yelped out for him to stop. Head tipped back and heart thundering from an evil cocktail of anger and bitterness, you straight up growled at him like a dog ready to lunge and attack.

"When are you going to open your fucking eyes?" he whispered, low and so very dangerous that the hairs on the nape of your neck prickled to attention.

Too wrapped in your own negative emotions, you failed to comprehend his words fully. Oblivious to the storm of desire that was rapidly rising to the surface in the male fixing you in place. You ignored his words and spat more venom at him in an attempt to get him to release you.

"When was the last time you even got laid Kiba? Haven't seen any of your airheads flouncing about in forever. They made me sick to my stomach with their simpering eyes out on stalks, drooling over you like you were some kind of fucking god."

He let go in a moment of startled surprise as your words found their mark, and you stormed towards the door only to have your wrist captured in a rough hand. Kiba pulled you back to him, the tug was so forceful that your chest bumped into his and your free hand flew to the wall of steel that was his chest in an attempt to balance yourself.

"Jealous?" he seethed, lowering his face until you were practically nose to nose

Had you been in your right mind, you might have taken a moment to process that incredibly loaded question and see it for what it actually was. Instead, your primal instincts found themselves firmly in the driving seat as a war cry pounded in your ears and a tightness grew heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You snatched your hand back and grabbed two fistfuls of his stupid tousled chestnut hair, pressing yourself onto your tiptoes to reach his wickedly curled lips.

This was no soft kiss, it was cruel and punishing.

Lips met, teeth gnashed and snarls sounded from both of your throats as Kiba reacted in kind. His hands were not gentle as he cupped your face, one hand stealing into your hair and wrapping it around his fist. He pulled, forcing your throat to strain taut and ripping your mouth away from his with a hiss.

White-hot fury veiled your vision in red. His sharp almost fang-like incisors sank into your vulnerable neck, harsh and selfish as he marked you for his own. Greedy lips followed the exquisite sting of pain, sucking at the skin indented by his teeth until the entire area would be bruised and tender to the touch when your sanity returned.

You didn't know what made you say it, the words were out of your mouth before you took note of them.

"Seems like you've been the jealous one.” Kiba froze against your frantic pulse point.

His eyes were positively feral, the pupils almost entirely swallowing his normally warm amber irises. Cheeks dabbled in rough whiskers from the late hour and the tendon from neck to collarbone straining from exertion. Kiba levelled you with a dangerous stare and you couldn't help but look away to admire his forearms instead of succumbing to his piercing gaze. The sleeves of his open shirt rolled to the elbows–a look that had you weak at the knees at the best of times–and the strength in those corded muscles was obvious to your appreciative eye.

"That’s right, m’gonna make you forget about those stupid assholes that didn't know what a treasure they had. Their loss is my gain. If you want this," he pointed to himself to emphasise the point, "if you want me, then come get it."

Without a backwards glance, he stormed to the island in his kitchen and left you there… alone and bereft of his overwhelming heat. Kiba stood with his lower back resting against the counter, one ankle crossed over the other and his arms folded as he watched you. His muscled chest heaved with every laboured breath, cheeks ruddy from the kiss you’d shared and there was a more than subtle bulge on the front of his jeans.

Did you want him, your best friend Kiba?

Hell yeah, you did!

Annoyed by your own oblivious stupidity, the puzzle pieces clicked together in your head. Kiba was downright sexy, his physique godly and a face that was both rugged and angelic depending on his mood. He was funny, a total goofball who made it his mission to keep you laughing until you were clutching your stomach and begging for mercy. A social butterfly who ensured he gave his friends equal attention, he knew every birthday and often was the ringleader of group outings and meetups.

He was your Kiba.

The person you relied upon most in the world, your constant and when you tried to imagine a world without him, it stole your breath until you were crippled by the agony. Had you been jealous of his idiotic little girlfriends? Yes, you always wanted to be the centre of his universe and they distracted from that. You had tried to mask it as a dislike for his taste in women but most of his exes had been perfectly nice if you had given them the time of day to get to know.

It was clear, that you wanted him.

You ran.

Four long strides and you threw yourself into his quickly outstretched arms. He caught you –of course, he did –bearing your weight with practised ease as you wrapped around him like climbing ivy. Hands fisting into the t-shirt that lay beneath his shirt as you found his mouth once more, sought to reclaim it and make your intentions crystal fucking clear.

This time the kiss was more tender, yet the passion was still as ardent and heady. His wide hands roamed your hips until he was kneading the meat of your ass through your pants and making your lower half grind against him in sinful bliss. The zipper of his jeans pressed against your centre through the layers of clothes and you moaned openly into his mouth.

Kiba was famished, he swallowed your lewd noises and was quick to incite more as he turned to perch you atop the counter. His hips rolled into you, languid but forceful whilst he explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Your tongue rolled over his in an erotic dance that had no end in sight. If not for your necessity to breathe, there would be no parting you and only the shared oxygen in the space created by two friends that finally breached a line that had been long held and now threatened to either tie them together or pull them apart.

You tugged expectantly at his clothes, desperate to strip him to your gaze and finally, he relented. Kiba pulled back long enough to tug off his shirt and tee, discarding them haphazardly. His warm breath fanned your cheek, stuttering when your cool fingers stroked and detailed the definition of his torso.

"Eager little thing," he growled. The smile he sported only served to highlight the ego that was often to focus of your teasing. Yet, this time no humourous jabs came to mind. For once you were glad of his self-confidence and eagerness to move things along.

He divested you of your oversized hoodie, thankful you had taken the time to put on a nice bra beneath it despite the mess you had been in earlier. His groan was heaven to your ears and when he dove to kiss you through the sheer material of your bralette you thought you had died right there and then.

Saliva dampened the already thin fabric, those dangerous wolfish teeth nipping at your pebbled buds. With your head tossed back, he used that wicked mouth of his on your breasts and you were unprepared for the piercing rip that flooded the hushed space. Kiba had torn clean through the garment, the halves falling down your arms to lay destroyed on the floor.

"Kiba!" you half yelled, half squeaked as he took that exact moment to suckle your nipple between his plush lips. Your belly quivered, the pulling sensation more intoxicating than the most potent alcohol and the feeling echoed far more intensely between your trembling thighs. Your fingers carded through his lush hair, nails scraping against his scalp and smiling indulgently at the rumble deep in his throat.

"I'll buy you more, promise baby. Lay back, need to get you naked," he said sounding entirely as drunk as you felt.

For once you were eager to follow his instruction, a novelty for Kiba who merely watched with a knowing look that promised he would deliver of your wildest fantasies if you’d just fucking listen to him, at long last. His eager fingers hooked into the waistband of your leggings and were quickly dragged down your supple legs. Slowly, he eased his calloused fingers back up your bare legs, stopping to toy with the back of your knees and listen to the subtle gasp caught tight in your throat.

Funny how you had thought he would be rough and impatient, the deed almost over with and the finish line hurtled towards at inhumane speed when here he was taking his sweet time. It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to feel the searing heat that was radiating from between your thighs, to dip his fingertips against your panties and know how drenched they already were from the mere prospect of being with him.

As if sensing your thought process, Kiba finally parted thighs whilst you rested backwards on your elbows. A low appreciative hum caught your ear and you shifted your focus to the tight grip he had on his bottom lip, teeth sinking deep and the wide flare of his nostrils like he was scenting you as an animal would do. He planted your feet and pushed your knees to the sides until you were splayed out like a cat in heat. It was vulnerable and so exhilarating you couldn't help but wriggle.

His eyes were glazed over when he, at last, moved to touch your panties, zeroing in on the obvious damp patch and letting his head roll along his neck for a second as a visible shiver passed up the length of his spine. You’d swear he appeared like those cartoon characters that have zapped with electricity, near every hair on his body rippling from the sensation.

"Have to taste you, sweetheart. My pretty fuckin’ girl."

A chaste kiss fell to your lips before he began a slow tortured path down your body, stopping here and there as he learned the spots that made you tremble and shake, noting carefully when you would whine and try to cling to him. Smug smiles and smears of his saliva were painted upon your heated skin, and he let loose a triumphant bark of laughter when you whimpered your impatience.

"Please," you mewled, a hand pressing atop his head to hurry his descent. Forward was not something you were familiar with, shyness always overtaking your urge to express your wants, but with Kiba, you knew there was no need for any such concerns.

"Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll deliver."

You could cry at the bubble of pressure that was desperate for release, sitting just below the surface, if he would just touch you.

"Wan’ you to fuck me with your mouth, need it so bad Kiba! Please–"

The last syllable had barely left your mouth before he was diving for your centre, underwear pressed aside as he nudged your clit with his nose and inhaled deeply. One roughened pad explored your slick folds, collecting the nectar and pressing it into his mouth.

His sigh was purely reverential and he settled down to devour you like a starving man sat before his first meal in weeks. It was all too much, the immediate stimulation intense enough to have your toes curling where they now rested down his broad back.

Kiba laid languid swipes of his molten tongue along your slit, alternating between flickering motions against your engorged pearl and slow circular patterns around your sopping hole. The walls of your cunt fluttered, desperate to be filled and clench around something–anything–and when his finger slipped easily inside you bucked wildly.

“Shh, keep still. Lemme hear your pretty voice but gotta hold still, yeah?” He encouraged, mouth only moving far enough way for you to hear his heated request.

It took mere minutes for you to come apart on his mouth, his digit sucked deep as he stroked your slick, spongy walls and suckled at your clit to almost pain. Your legs were limp from the unrelenting waves of euphoria that raced throughout your body and if not for the grounding palm caressing your thigh then you might have passed out there and then when white sparks shot straight through your vision.

Kiba didn’t spill a single drop of your nectar, the wet insistent muscle rolling into your cunt over and over to simply dig more of the delicious juices from your quivering body before he stood with the lower half of his face glistening in your essence. It felt… empowering. The intense lust that blazed in his eyes, a lust that was for you and no one else. Fuck. You loved him. Had for a long time. Why had you taken so long to see it for what it really was?

It wasn’t the time to get stuck in your head like this, there would be moments for these thoughts and what lay beyond but right now, you weren’t entirely satisfied and you wouldn’t be until you had milked the man looming over you for every drop he could deliver.

With renewed vigour and determination, you propped yourself on your elbows and then lunged forward towards the buckle of his belt. You’d never worked so deftly as you worked to unbuckle him, moaning at the loud metal clattering loose. Buttons worked free and zipper pulled down, the waistband of his underwear came into sight and your fingers curled around that final barrier and released with him an audible gasp mingled with his sigh of relief.

You had known he was going to be well endowed, could feel it from the press of his body only earlier, but it was still a shock to see him in all his glory, and what a glory it was. His length was impressive, but it was his girth that was the true beauty–if you could even call such a monster a beauty. Kiba's cock could barely support its own weight, the angry length tipped to a deep purple with precum leaking from the slit under your scrutiny.

It looked enormous in your petite hand, managing to encircle the shaft but only just did your fingertips meet. You stroked his velvety soft skin, paying attention to the stark veins that stood to attention and how Kiba reacted when you traced over the most prominent with a salacious smile. You scooted towards the edge of the counter, eyes locked with him with every deliberate move you made.

The head kissed against your glistening folds and you teased both of you by running the blunt tip along your slit until it bumped against your clitoral hood. His fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so tightly you feared he would crumble the marble under his strong hands if he wasn't careful. You notched him at your slowly pulsing entrance, and on a breathy keening noise, you pleaded. 

"Fuck me Kiba."

You knew that he had snapped when an animalistic noise roared from his throat and the death grip moved from the counter to your hips as he pushed into your cunt. Kiba eagerly watched your walls suck him in, utterly drunk on the silken feel of you in much the same way that you were drunk on him. Every drag of his shaft rubbed delicious friction into your most intimate areas with a precision he shouldn’t yet possess. He was made for you and you were made to take him.

There would be a time for slower moments and tender loving making, for you were sure that Kiba was not going to escape from you, not now. He was yours, and you his. This alone had you urging him on, driving that feral side of him to act and do it hard and fast with nips at his lips and nails clawing down his back. 

His hips pistoned like a well-oiled machine, and sweat clung to his forehead as he set a pace that saw him pounding into your pussy. A relentless rhythm that matched the pound of your heart, clammy skin on skin and kisses that acted better than any drugs ever could.

"This what you wan’? Hungry for my cock, huh?"

His words were staccato with every thrust that he delivered, your body jerking with the wild and powerful movements. Your head fell back against the counter as moan after decadent moan left your throat. Kiba's tight grip moved to your waist and he began to pull you onto his length, your back sliding against the marble top making your tits bounce and your ass slap against his pelvis. Every drag of his shaft against your walls made you keen for him, full to capacity but craving more nevertheless. He was using you like his own personal fucktoy and you were creaming around him at that knowledge, the lewd squelches of your bodies joined in this way growing louder and louder.

"Tell me. Need to hear you say it, kitten."

"Oh… fu-fuck! Need your dick, feel so good–ah!" You screamed when Kiba leaned over you and altered the angle of how he was driving into you. His mouth sucked possessive marks onto the sides of your breasts as you used the last of your hastily retreating sanity to again fist his hair and force him even closer to you.

"Tell me I'm better than those other motherfuckers. No one can fuck you like this, nobody else is worthy of this beautiful pussy," he growled, breaking from your hold to allow him to press his thumb against your clit and making you jerk at the sudden unsuspecting touch.

"Kiba–best. Gonna, oh god–m’so close. No one but you."

Your brain was a puddle, the ecstasy too much for full coherent thoughts as you felt the gush hit against his groin. You soaked him in your juices, the wet noises crescendoing whilst stars winked into your vision.

"Such a good fuckin’ girl, oh shit. What a beautiful mess you've made on me," he cooed in praise, slowing his pace but never stopping. He had to be close; your walls desperately trying to milk him, to force his release in kind.

Slowly, you returned to the earth, oversensitive from each measured stroke that he delivered until he pulled from you and wiped the sweat from his brow. He fisted his shaft as you watched, tears springing to your eyes at being denied his release.

"Wanna come down your throat, think you can manage?" he asked, his eyes burning into yours as he pumped himself.

Your thighs were shaky, the skin slick with the spill of your arousal but you managed not to fall to the floor. Kiba steadied you with his free hand, groaning in his throat as you knelt before him. His head fell back when you parted your lips and accepted him into your wet mouth.

The taste of his essence mingled with your own, sweet and bitter but definitely not unpleasant. You had never done this before and it felt so wicked as you watched Kiba come apart above you. He could barely maintain his eye contact with you, heat surging to his cheeks and his hands cradling your head in gentle reverence.

His hips jerked, your fingers sinking into his ass that flexed beneath your touch as he kissed against your throat. The muscles constricted and he faltered. "Oh fuck, so close sweetheart."

Your teeth unsheathed carefully, tongue running the length of the litany of veins that ran his shaft and teeth grazing his sensitive flesh until his fingers seized and you felt the hot spurts of his release. It poured down your throat until you pulled back, the rest pooling on your pink tongue.

Kiba panted and whined, losing himself in the moment and the feel of your scorching mouth, chest heaving with each laboured inhale. You showed him the milky seed that coated your tongue, watching his eyes roll to the back of his skull the second after you swallowed audibly and opened up to show your now empty mouth.

The seconds ticked by and neither of you moved as your breathing slowly returned to normal. How gorgeous he looked to you, spent and blushing. The massive frame of his body–Kiba’s body–completely undone by your actions and your body.

"That's one way to get over Hidan," he groused, trying to turn from you.

You were not going to allow him to step away from this, two hearts were on the line and you refused to see him in pain. You stood abruptly, possibly a mistake given how your thighs quaked but not giving a shit at the moment. You pulled him back to you, arms resting over his wide shoulders and placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Pouring every bit of love and desire into your expression, you fixed him with a sincere smile and watched his eyes widen and soften, the creases smoothing out to reveal his true self, the one you were intimately familiar with.

"Who?"

[closurechilde]

Day 13: Biting/Marking

WHY DOES THE MIDDLE PHOTO ACTUALLY LOOK GOOD WHAT THE FUCK?

It was going to be a joke but it looks so good I can't change it.

Cw. Biting, duh. I'M WRITING THIS AT SCHOOL SO IT'S NOT SPICY AT ALL I KNOW I'M SORRY. F!reader.

You smell rare.

Kiba senses it. And he doesn't mean you stink in sweat after training or Akamaru's scent. Because if it was the first option, at least it was your sweat. And if it was his dog's scent, well, he couldn't get mad at you for loving his friend.

But you have another human scent. One he knows well.

He raises an eyebrow at you when you get in. Akamaru goes running to you, flopping on his back for you to rub his belly.

"Hi! Hi! Hi, big guy! Hi!" You greet him with baby voice as you get on your knees to rub his belly and his cheeks before leaving a kiss on his snout.

You get up and look at Kiba. Crossed arms as he looks at you with a frown.

"Why do you stink to Naruto?" He asks. A calm and collected look that made you shiver.

"I went to have Ramen with him, Hinata and Shikamaru...? I thought I'd told you." You answer, caressing his cheek. And he hates it when you do that because he feels like a puppy when you first scratch the back of his ears and he can't be mad at you anymore.

He leans into his touch and hugs you tightly.

"I still don't like his scent on you. I want my pretty lady's perfume back."

You giggle at the nickname and the little pout he gives you before he starts kissing your palm, then your wrist, and then your arm before biting hard enough to leave a mark.

"Auch! Kiba!" You hiss at the sting.

"Bare with it. I'm planning to leave a few more on you." He says, repeating the process.

Three kisses and a bite. Three kisses and a bite. This is what he did all over your body.

Legs, thighs, arms, forearms, shoulders, neck, collarbone, breasts, chest, and belly are all covered in gentle but firm love bites. On the front and back.

An admirable artwork to say at least.

"Happy now?" You ask, resting your head on your already-bitten arms as you lay on his bed, almost naked if it wasn't for the long shirt he gave you after finishing your chest zone.

He lays over you, careful to not crush you with his weight, and hides in the crook of your neck.

He can't sense a trace of the Uzumaki on you. In fact, it's a sweet mixture of his and your scent.

And you could swear that if he had a tail, it'll be waving like crazy.

"Very happy." He sighs happily, nuzzling on you.

"So... what would I say to my parents when I get home?"

"Blame Akamaru. Say that you were playing too rough or something." He mumbles sleepily before he starts to snore on top of you.

[animexts]

Stealing a kiss from yours

NARUTO

Characters: Naruto, Shikamaru, Kiba and Gaara

NARUTO MASTERLIST

A/N: It's my first time doing headcanons so please forgive me if this sucks.

Naruto Uzumaki

This would probably happen in ichiraku.

He was really looking forward to it, so while you guys wait for the food to be ready, all he can look at is your mouth.

"You look amazing today"

He would suddenly say making his face redden.

You turn to him smiling and approach him giving him a kiss on the cheek

"It's now a never"

So before you can get too far away, he kisses your mouth

The kiss is tender and gentle, but fast too

He really thinks he's going to get spanked so he walked away from you

But to Naruto's surprise and happiness, you pull on his jacket for another kiss.

"Damn, I should have done this sooner"

Shikamaru Nara

You two were once again lying on the grass looking at the clouds

Well HE was looking at the clouds, you were talking nonstop about your last mission

Don't get me wrong, he loves your voice but today he just wanted to get some sleep with you next to him

"You had to see how-"

You are interrupted mid-sentence with soft lips pressed against yours.

He walks away with a cheeky smile on his face.

"But what..."

"Sometimes you talk too much baby, you talk too much..."

Kiba Inuzuka

Just like Naruto he was very much looking forward to it.

And he got even more anxious when you came running towards him, and hugged him tightly

And as the two of you walked and talked, he started to wonder if it was a good idea.

He wanted this kiss so badly, but he absolutely didn't want to ruin your friendship.

But when he looked at you, all your doubts were forgotten

You had your head tilted up, looking at the sky

This was the perfect opportunity and he couldn't pass it up.

Before his brain gave him reasons not to, Kiba leaned over and kissed her lips.

It was fast, but enough for him to want more and more

"Sorry I just-"

"Alright, I liked it."

And that was all he needed to hear.

Gaara

"You have to give him a surprise kiss!"

Gaara felt his cheeks burn when he heard Kankuro say that.

"But… isn't that disrespectful?"

"Disrespectful my ass, that's hot!"

Now seeing you beside him, he's not sure he can do it

"Are you okay Gaara?"

"Yeah, I just... I want to try something."

And before you can question it, you feel something soft on your lips

You look at him in surprise and see his cheeks as red as his hair

"That was..."

"Hot? Well Kankuro said it would be"

"Could I say yes?"

[actuallysaiyan]

Definitely not the biggest simp for Kiba and Gohan-

Congrats on your follower count! 👏 you deserve that with your content (may or may not have me slowly falling into the Jiraya and Kakashi hole XD). As for the event! I have two possibilities based on your writing inspiration!

Prompt 4 with gohan

AND / OR

Prompt 6 with Kiba where he's person A ^w^

event here.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex(Kiba), mentions of drinking(Kiba), oral sex(male receiving/Gohan), some slight fluff, rough sex(Kiba) word count: o.9k(collectively) pairings: Son Gohan x Fem!Reader/Kiba Inuzuka x Fem!Reader prompts: Person A waking up Person B in the morning by working their mouth below the belt. and Person A playfully keeping Person B pinned down as they take Person B from behind. Person A lays their hands over Person B's as they kiss and bite Person B's neck and shoulder, whispering naughty/sweet things into their ear. Bonus: They’re doing it in front of a mirror. Person A takes pleasure from the look on Person B's face as Person B whimpers beneath them. a/n: Couldn't pick between the two, so I wrote two shorter ones!

Sleeping next to your half-Saiyan lover has you melting to every little touch and moment of affection. Gohan has gone through so much in his life, so you know that him falling in love was so important. He really wants everything to work out perfectly. You were his first for a lot of new experiences, and his fun side showed you that being quirky and silly was a lot of fun. So you and Gohan got along like a house on fire. It took no time for the both of you to fall so deeply in love with one another. 

You treat him well, and you dote on him like his mother does. But you know how to keep it light for the most part. The only thing that isn’t light is when you’re intimate with him. Becoming so intimate with a man like this is something so intense. Gohan shows you that Saiyan part of him, and he fucks you into the mattress like nothing else matters. He almost makes it seem like he’s trying for a baby sometimes, even though you haven’t discussed it just yet.

It’s a warm morning and the sun cascades through the window. Gohan is still resting, which is apparent by the light snores coming from him. You smile sweetly and roll over, being able to admire him even better while resting on your side. Gently, you run your fingers down his chest, watching as he stirs so lightly in his sleep. Suddenly, a thought pops into your head. A very naughty thought.

You slide down between his legs, smirking as you see the morning wood pressing against the sheets. You throw back the covers gently, watching as his cock twitches to the sudden gust of air. He still stays sleeping, moaning softly and then snoring once more. You press soft kisses to the underside of his cock, making it bounce a bit more as you continue your soft and teasing ministrations. 

And yet, Gohan still goes on sleeping. You smirk up at him, wondering if you could manage to begin sucking his cock without him waking up. You figure that’s just wishful thinking. There’s no way you could get that far without him opening his eyes and witnessing the lewd act you’re performing on him. You take his leaking cock into your hand and you begin slowly pumping it. Then you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, making him grunt. 

His eyes begin to open, and he lets out a whine when he feels your warm mouth enveloping his hard cock. This is truly so good. He never thought you’d be waking him up with morning head. Gohan bucks his hips a little, sending more of his thick cock into your mouth. You begin to gag and sputter, but you don’t let up. He lets out a sleepy apology, and he murmurs praise as you begin to bob your head up and down.

All he can think of is how perfect it is to wake up this way…

“Fuck you’re so tight!” Kiba grunts as he pumps into you. This all started when the two of you began flirting with one another at this party. You’ve known Kiba for years, but for the first time, he was looking so fine.

A few more drinks, and Kiba was guiding you into one of the empty bedrooms. The lights were turned down low and your lips had met in such a fierce and fiery kiss. You found his fangs so alluring as he dragged them down your neck, placing love bites in his wake. You gripped his hair before he pushed you onto the bed.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been dreaming of fucking you?” He growls, pinning you down on the bed. You squirm under his grasp, trying to get free but your attempts are half-hearted as you desperately want to know where this will go.

You giggle, “Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

Kiba has other ideas. He then maneuvers you onto your hands and knees, pulling the clothes off of you in a frantic haste. He kisses and bites your soft skin, leaving red marks wherever he can. Once he has you naked, he pulls his own jeans down and pulls out his throbbing erection. A few lazy pumps and then he’s sliding into you, reaching places so deep.

“Oh fuck!” You whine, knowing that you’re about to have your world rocked.

Kiba keeps you pinned down, his hands on top of yours. His hips move in a frantic pace, fucking you like a starved animal. You expected this from him, considering he’s so canine-like. You whine as he leans in to kiss and suck on your neck. The words that come out of his mouth are so filthy.

“You like that, huh? Such a cute little babygirl…your cunt’s dripping all over me.”

He fucks you hard and fast, and when he tugs on your hair, you notice the mirror that’s not far off in the room. You watch as Kiba slams himself into you, over and over. You have never seen such a lewd sight in your entire life. Soft mewls and whines slip from your lips as he pumps into you, bringing you closer and closer to your peak. You try to warn him, but all that comes out are pathetic little moans.

“I know, babygirl. Cum for me,”

He bites your neck once more, sending you over the edge. Your cunt grips onto him so hard, making him growl loudly. He’s not going to be able to last much longer. Kiba watches as you slowly come down from your high, and he pumps into you even harder and faster, chasing his own high.

Still, he keeps his fingers tangled in your hair, forcing you to watch him cum so hard deep inside your pussy.

[suvidrache]

Insecure S/O

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 301 / Read it on AO3 / Wattpad

Featuring: Madara, Kiba, Shikamaru, and Minato

Madara

- He noticed right away you were acting different. He wanted to confront you, but he wasn't sure the right way to go about talking.

"Why are you suddenly wearing different clothes?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Why do you care about other people's opinions? You are beautiful, and you make just about every person in this village jealous."

- He's trying and he honestly doesn't understand why you can't just accept yourself. Why worry about it? You have a literal god as your boyfriend.

Kiba

"Hey, uh, that outfit looks a little different?"

"What?"

"Like I've never seen you wear it before..."

"Oh it's just a new outfit I got."

He raised an eyebrow as he spoke, "but it like doesn't fit...? Nevermind, you look great."

- 10/10 completely clueless, doesn't mean anything in a rude way, he's just meaning the clothes are too big for you.

- He's honestly a sweet and supportive boyfriend.

Shikamaru

"Why are you clothes suddenly much bigger than you?"

"I, cause I'm.. I don't really want to talk about it.. I don't like talking about my weight."

"(Gender), you look fine."

- He would hold you and hug you close. Complimenting you in hopes that you won't be as insecure.

Minato

"Is that a new outfit?" He asked happily as he smiled at you.

His eyes would be slowly looking you up and down.

"Um, yeah, I just needed some bigger..."

"You're pregnant??" He asked shocked as he moved quickly over to you.

"I, oh, no no no. I'm just getting..."

And now you're being held in a hug.

"Minato, I'm not pregnant! I'm just insecure about my weight."

"I, oh, I'm so sorry. You look great, you're so beautiful."

- He's going to help in anyway he can to help you not be insecure.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

[kakashissimp]

Naruto Headcanons: How The Boys Find Out You’re Pregnant

Characters: Kiba, Shikamaru, Yamato, Kakashi, Iruka, Sasuke.

Kiba

Kiba smells something different about you, but he can’t figure out what. He assumes you just aren’t feeling well, since you’ve been nauseous for a few days.

While you’re away at work one morning, Kiba goes into the bathroom to get himself ready. He goes to grab something when he spots a weird box in the garbage. He pulls it out and realizes it’s for a pregnancy test.

Kiba freezes immediately, torn between many different thoughts. He panics initially, not sure if he’s ready to be a father. But the more he thinks about it throughout the day, the more he warms up to the idea.

He waits until you get home to confront you. Sitting stiffly at the table, Kiba swallows harshly the moment you’re back. Once he sees you, everything hits him at once, and tears fill Kiba's eyes.

"Are you pregnant?"

At your nod of confirmation, Kiba is overcome with pride and joy. He jumps from his chair and takes you in for a big hug, swearing to not let you go for the rest of the night.

Shikamaru

Shikamaru watches as complete disbelief scatters across your cheeks, panicking about the positive test in your hands.

"Shika...what am I supposed to do?" You mumble, anxiously pacing back and forth.

While it's a surprise to him as well, Shikamaru can't stand how stressed it's making you. To him, he isn't too shell-shocked by the whole thing. In fact, he had been looking forward to starting a family with you.

"Calm down, y/n," Shikamaru says in return, standing up from his place on the couch. He cuts the space between you and looks down at the test for himself.

As you stutter and mumble your fears, Shikamaru puts both hands against your shoulders, making you stop your incessant pacing.

"Babe, please. Look at me," he says, moving a hand to gently caress your face. "I know it seems scary, but we can handle this. We're ready."

Shikamaru grins for you as the relief floods your features, having been afraid he wasn't prepared to have the child. He kisses your forehead before pulling you into his chest.

"We're in this together."

Yamato

Yamato misses every single hint you throw his way.

Oblivious to how many times you've brought up children or the future expansion of your small family, and how ill you've been feeling, it takes him going off on a mission for it to dawn on him.

He's startled by the realization, and when Kakashi asks what's wrong, Yamato confesses the connection he finally made. Questioning himself, however, he confides in his friend and asks if he's just making things up in his head.

Kakashi snickers. "It's hard to miss. I didn't have the heart to tell you I had already guessed that she was."

Stunned, Yamato has no choice but to wrap up the mission early. In a hurry, he bursts through the front door to find you cleaning up the house, and Yamato demands from you: "is it true? Have I been blind this whole time?"

When you crack a smile for him, Yamato's heart softens, and he hurries over to collect you in his arms, cooing about becoming parents.

Yamato used to wonder if he'd ever be a father, but with you, he feels ready to take on the world.

Kakashi

Kakashi is completely unsuspecting when he opens a small gift bag you give to him after your date night, tucked into one of the booths. It's the place you two had your first date.

Half expecting a book or something snack-related, Kakashi freezes the moment he pulls out the pregnancy test. He stares at it, eyes glazing over with shock.

"Y/n...this better not be a joke."

When you confirm it's real, Kakashi sits there in his emotions, trying to not break into tears in public.

After being told the likelihood of you getting pregnant was next to none, neither of you thought it was possible. By some stroke of luck, it seemed to not be quite so impossible.

Remembering himself, Kakashi pulls you in for a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck to hide his happy tears.

"This is the greatest gift I could ever ask for."

It doesn't take long for Kakashi to pay for the meal and take you home, eager to get you into bed. Knowing his girl is pregnant fires up that desire in him.

Iruka

"What?" Iruka asks, eyes growing with disbelief.

When you repeat the news to him, even showing him the positive test, Iruka can't hold back the raw emotions.

"That's the greatest news!" Iruka cries, quick to pull you into his arms and kiss the top of your head. You giggle at his reaction through your own happy tears, so relieved to finally be with child.

"I love you more than anything. You'll be the perfect mother," Iruka muffles into your hair, arms characteristically soft and reassuring around you. "I can't wait to meet our baby."

Iruka always wanted to start a family of his own, grateful to have you as his life partner. With that dream coming true, Iruka is quick to mother hen you, making sure you and the baby are perfectly taken care of.

He questions if you've grabbed your prenatals yet, and Iruka wastes no time running a bath for you, making sure you're comfortable. Whenever you're nauseous, he grabs you ginger and crackers to help. Anything you need, Iruka will give it to you without question.

Iruka tells literally everyone he sees, even if they already know.

Sasuke

Sasuke doesn't mean to let the news get the better of him. But it's so sudden, and he's walking out the door before he can stop himself. It's overwhelming, and he needs time.

As he walks through the village, he questions what he did to deserve a child of his own. He never intended to start a family. That wasn't in the cards for him.

What kind of father would he be? Sasuke can't answer that question.

When Sasuke watches a mother walking by him with her small child's hand in hers, it hits him like a tidal wave. He begins to think about you doing the very same, lit up with the wonders of parenthood. He can picture how happy it would make you, and how Sasuke doesn't want to ruin that for you.

He begins to realize having a more reliable foundation in his life doesn't have to be a bad thing. Sasuke knows you're in it for the long haul, and he must trust that everything happens for a reason.

Sasuke is back before long, face long with regret once he sees you. Aware of your evident upset from his initial reaction, Sasuke can't manage the words at first as he pulls you into his chest. He forces back his own emotions the moment you begin to cry.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, arms tightly around you. He rests his cheek against your head. "I wasn't expecting to hear something like that. But I'm here. I always will be."

[aaizawashouta]

Heatin' Up

pairing: frat!kiba x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: kiba and his famous beer pong partner finally do the dirty. (modern!au)

warnings: smut (18+, minors dni) oral f and m receiving, p in v, cream pie.

a/n: it's me, hi. this was long over due. i love them your honor.

→ Wyd later? 

You could feel the disgust on your face. It never ceases to amaze you how much of a fuckboy he could be. No wonder he was in a frat. What did this make you? His booty call? Ugh, you’re the only one who would ever answer him on such short notice. Your nails tapped against your phone as you contemplated your answer.

→ Party @ the house 

→ Got your fav 

What did he think you are? Some schmuck? As if your favorite drink would be enough to pull you from the comfort of your room. But then you hear the giggling. Your roommates are never quiet, and you know their habits. Especially when you hear Shikamaru’s name dropped. Ino’s been trying to get into his pants for weeks. Sighing, you push your blankets off your lap, knowing you're in a losing situation.

The girls barge into your room, animatedly talking over one another. You get the jist, which you already knew. Sakura eyes you suspiciously when you don’t fight them on coming along. Ino’s already tearing into your closet. You pinch the side of your thigh to keep yourself from freaking out.

“We promise,” Ino says as she coats your lashes in mascara. “We won’t leave your side.”

It’s a lie, it always is. They always abandon you at some point. Not that it matters. Because there is one who always sniffs you out. You couldn’t hide from him even if you wanted to.

→ you comin? 

I’ll be there! Find me xoxo ←

It was a new world record. You’d lost sight of your roommates the moment you walked in. Not all that bummed about it, you headed to the kitchen. You had been promised your favorite drink. Gaara and Kankuro are stationed in the kitchen. Their only job is to make sure that the drinks stay clean. A shutter rushes over you as you think about how the house had been your freshman year. A hand rubs at your forearm, the pink and shiny scar a reminder of the hell that broke out that night. Grabbing your drink, Gaara pops the cap off for you, smiling as you take a much needed drink. The latter gives you a wink accompanied by a smirk. You flash them a smile before braving the rest of the party.

You hear him before you see him. Laughter and sharp words greet you when you step out into the backyard. There’s a bonfire, most of your friend group sits around it. Naruto and Kiba are bickering, both hotheaded and passionate about their beliefs. You can’t make out what it is exactly they're arguing about, you just hope it isn’t something stupid. Taking another swig of your drink, eyes cast down to watch your steps, a large hand wraps around your arm. You glance up to see Kiba. His large frame blocking out the light from the fire, but his grin still lights up his face. 

“There she is,”

“I told you I was coming.”

“Thought you got lost when your dumbass friends walked out here without you.”

Well, he’s not wrong is he? He had some faith in you, though, given he didn’t come hunt you down himself. But now that he has you, he isn’t letting you go. Time moves quickly whenever you’re with Kiba. One drink turns into two, and two into three. 

“Hey, the pong table is open!”

You yelp when you're yanked from your seat, tripping over your own feet as you're dragged back into the house. “Game face on, baby. We got a table to dominate.”

It’s never been like this intense before. Sweat drips down your neck. You’ve stripped down every layer while still remaining decent. Not everybody at this party needs to see you in your undies. Goosebumps breakout on your skin when a deep sigh comes from behind you. Nerves? Not a thing. Anxiety never seems to dig its claws in you. The only thing that ever sets you off is the impatient man behind you breathing down your neck.

This is the last shot of the game. The make or break of your winning sweep. You and Kiba always dominate the pong table, but tonight is something special. Or it could be. If only he’d take a step back and let you fucking breathe.

Slowly you turn, head tilting to clash gazes with familiar amusement. His brows shoot up into his headband, actually your headband – it’s your favorite color. He’s shirtless, when the hell did that happen? Probably started stripping down when you did. Jeans hanging low on his hips, the band of his underwear playing with the dark hair of his happy trail. His sneakers are toe to toe with your bare feet. It’s almost like a superstition. Or maybe because playing beer pong in high heels isn’t a smart idea. For you, anyway.

“Are you going to throw?”

“Are you going to let me breathe?”

His grin takes on a wolfish form as he steps into your space. Always by your side, never more than an arms length away. If anyone knows how to push your buttons it’s Kiba. If there’s anyone who isn’t afraid of pushing your buttons, it’s Kiba. You’ve been giving him a lot of slack lately. No pushback for all the bullshit he throws your way. Your lips purse, lifting your foot you step on the toes of his shoes.

“Bro, what the fuck.”

“Back away, Inuzuka. Wouldn’t want to scuff up those kicks.”

Your lips twitch when he huffs out a humorless laugh. As if he’s surprised by your audacity. Kiba takes a step back, his jaw clenching when you refuse to pick up your foot. Yeah, the fucking audacity.

“You’re mean.”

“You’re messing up my game.”

“Are you even playing anymore?”

You look behind you with a sneer on your face. Naruto and Lee stand there – Lee literally vibrating from all the energy drinks he’s had. Naruto rolls his shoulders, pinning you and Kiba with a bored look.

“Why? Want me to kick your ass that bad, huh?”

The group watching laughs, causing you to smile. Naruto gives you the bird before pouting. Another swig of your drink down and your shoulders loosen. Warm hands land on your waist, lips brushing against your ear.

“Nothing but water, baby.”

 “This is the winning shot, what do I get if I make it?”

There isn’t a doubt you’ll make it. You’re gloating now. A wide grin eating up your face as you roll the ball through your fingers.

“When’d you turn into a scammer? That’s easy fucking money. Everyone here knows you’ll make the shot.”

“What are you willing to hand over, Kiba?”

He’s silent, debating. You quirk an eyebrow as you stare up at him over your shoulder, intrigued by the wheels turning in his head. He sighs, fingers digging into your sides. “Throw the damn ball.”

You can’t help but snort. It’s not rocket science, beer pong. It’s technique, all in the wrist. But don’t tell any of the meatheads that. God forbid you figured out how to beat the frat bros at their own game. Which you do every time you play. Taking a deep breath you position yourself, aiming. The hoots and hollers quiet down as you look from the red solo cup to Kiba. He’s beaming; smirk showing off a sharp fang. Slightly threatening, but boyish all the same. It’s a clean shot – you sink it without even looking.

The pride that flares in Kiba’s eyes sends heat through you. There isn’t a moment to think about it before he’s rushing you. In an instant you’re off your feet, a screech leaving you as you hastily wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Hell yeah, that’s my girl.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek to hold back your whimper. This isn’t the first time he’s said something like that. How easily he calls you pet names and claims you as his. He’s known you since you were a gap toothed little kid with knobby knees. The only one mean enough to put Kiba in his place when his mouth got away from him.

“Ki, you’re making me dizzy.”

He grumbles but lets you down. Not bothering to move away his chest brushing against your back with every breath. Not like you mind. You’ve never been one to shy away from Kiba. He invades your space, your mind, your dreams. 

“It’s not fair.” Naruto complains, downing another cup of cheap beer. “I want her as my partner in the next game.”

Kiba’s grip on your waist tightens when he looks over your shoulder towards the blond. “Over my dead fucking body. She’s mine.”

Snickering from beside you catches your attention. Ino and Sakura sit with their drinks trying to hide their smug looks. Oh yeah, you’ll never hear the end of it. They’ve been trying to set you and Kiba up for a while now. You don’t ever encourage their meddling, but you don’t put a stop to it either. Because there is a big part of you that wonders. It’s your little secret if the part that wonders happens late at night with your fingers buried deep between your legs. No one has to know. 

“What the fuck are you snickering for? Not like anyone wants you.”

The drink you’re holding gets slammed down on the table. Kiba pulls you into him as you choke on the liquid. You’re trying to breathe, but your laughter keeps bubbling up, making it hard. Large palms run up and down your spine, a soothing gesture. Finally gulping in some air you flash Kiba an appreciative smile.

He’s got a look in his eye, one you’ve never seen before. Goosebumps erupt across your skin. His gaze takes you in from head to toe; it’s predatory, wild. The hand he used to sooth you is now gripping the back of your neck. Kiba pulls you close, head tilted down, nose brushing against your own. You’ve got to fight to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. Warm breath ghosts over your parted lips, waiting. You nod, barely visible, but Kiba catches it. Warm lips meet yours. Firm against your own, but not demanding. He’s holding back, not wanting to put on a show. You gasp when his tongue lightly brushes against your bottom lip, and then he’s gone. Pulling away, leaving you only a small taste.

Clearing your throat you pick up your discarded items. “I need to pee.”

“Sure, babe. Let’s go.”

A huff leaves your lips as you follow after him. His large frame breaks through the sea of people, keeping you from getting knocked around. It gets a beat quieter when you hit the stairs. Less people, less chatter. Kiba bangs on the bathroom door, giving no time before ripping it open. Covering your mouth so the embarrassed couple doesn’t see you laughing. The poor girl has no time to adjust her skirt before Kiba is manhandling them out of the way. 

“Do your business.”

You wait a beat. “Get out.”

“Babe,”

“Kiba! I’m not peeing with you in here!”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

That makes your temper flare. “Don’t compare me to your one night stands. You’ve only seen me naked in your dreams, but even that is lacking.”

In a blink of an eye he’s got you shoved against the counter. Hand wrapped around your throat, lips brushing over yours as he speaks. “Only because you won’t give it up.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You know me better than anybody. But sometimes, you’re so fucking blind it pisses me off.”

“I swear to god, Kiba, if you think you’re going to fuck me in this bathroom–” Your mouth snaps shut. You don’t even want to entertain that thought. But Kiba is grinning now, big and brilliant. A cat that got the cream. Makes you want to smack him.

“I knew it.” He whispers. “I knew you wanted me. Bet you touch that sweet pussy thinking of me, don’tcha sweetheart?”

No, absolutely not. You aren’t doing this. You manage to shove him away, a glare settling over your pretty features. You slam the bathroom door open ready to leave. You never really had to pee, you just needed a breather. Now here you are; stressed out and getting hornier by the second. But the chance to leave never comes. You never step out of the bathroom. Kiba takes this into his own hands –quite literally– and picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Fuck you, Inuzuka. Put me down!”

“Yeah, baby. That’s the plan.”

You can’t fight him. Can’t ignore the heat that spreads through you. Your thighs would be rubbing together if Kiba didn’t have a mean grip on them. So you hang there, blood rushing to your head as he enters his room. He tosses you on the bed, standing there staring at you with a hungry, desperate gaze while you get your bearings. 

Grabbing your ankle Kiba drags you down the bed, smacking your thigh to get your attention. “Let’s go, baby girl. On your knees.”

“What?”

Kiba raises a brow. “On. Your. Knees.”

“You want me on my knees for you? You first.”

Hands grab at you, hastily undoing your pants before tugging them along with the black thong you wore down your legs. Kiba never takes his eyes off you as he tosses the clothes over his shoulder. His fingers tangle with yours, dragging your hand down your body, drawing your fingers up and down the seam between your legs, a sign you take to spread them. He doesn’t have to give you any more direction. Eagerly you dip a finger in, building up a pace before adding another. Placing one hand on a bare thigh, he holds you open, pushing his shoulders in between to get closer to you. A satisfied groan leaves you when he kisses your thigh. His teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh, a laugh rumbling in his chest when he notices your hand moving faster and faster the closer he gets to your core.

“Kiba,” you’re begging. Needy, and desperate. 

His hand moves, expert fingers toying with your pert nipples. Back arching with each tug and twist. You’re mumbling–bite, bite, bite. With your own hand busy between your legs, Kiba pushes up on his elbows, licking a trail between the valley of your breasts before sucking one in his mouth. You whimper, hand now tangled in his hair, holding him tight as you push your tit into his mouth. He rolls it in his mouth, tongue flicking at it before sucking. Eyes wide, pupils blown out as he watches you teeter closer to the edge.

His hand trails down your stomach, fingers tracing over yours. A grunt escapes him when he realizes you’ve stopped moving it. He tsks at you, pulling himself away from your chest. “Don’t stop,” he commands, his hand gripping your now stilled hand and forcing your fingers back inside. No longer two deep, but three. He wants you stretched out and ready for him. He keeps his hand over yours, controlling the pace. ‘Come on sweetheart – fuck, like that.”

He watches you for a moment, before lowering himself back down. You jolt at the flat of his tongue running over your nipple. A low groan parting your lips when his teeth finally latch on to it. You’ve always been a sucker for pain. Especially with your nipples being as sensitive as they are. He could make you come just by playing with them alone. Dragging his teeth over the tender flesh, he flicks his tongue over it. How fast can he make you come like this? Applying more pressure to the hand between your legs, it's a race between your fingers and his tongue. 

“Kiba, fuck.” 

Your legs are trembling around him, your weight shifting back onto your toes. Chasing, chasing… Kiba bites down on your nipple, hard. You scream as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. You look so fucking pretty when your like this, basking in your orgasm glow.

Knowing that your legs are anything but steady, you roll off the bed, landing on all fours before crawling over to sit on your haunches before him. You look up at him expectantly, waiting for your next order. He smiles down at you. Hand cupping your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone, finding its way down to your bottom lip. He pulls on the tender flesh, watching as your lips part and your tongue automatically comes out. Waiting, hungry.

“Are you going to be nice?” You whine, scooting forward, wanting nothing more than the feel of his heavy cock on your tongue. “Good girl, baby. Take the whole thing.”

Both hands tangle in your hair. He doesn’t move an inch, letting you come to him. Your eyes prick with tears as he makes his way in. You love the stretch, no matter where it is. Slowly, slowly, you make until you're suffocating with his cock down your throat and your nose in his dark hair. 

“That’s it — fuck, stay right there.”

His thighs twitch when you hum around him. Your mouth is so soft and warm, he could come right now if he really wanted to. But that’s not what he wants, not what you want. All of this is just foreplay. Because nothing will compare to when he’s got his cock in you and you’re begging him to fill you up, to use you. He’s been dreaming of that for years. His eyes roam all over you as he steadies his breathing, taking in the lewd scene that’s all you. 

“You’re a goddamn daydream. You know that?”

Hand pushing on your head, you gag around him before quickly being pulled away. You brace yourself, letting him use your face for his pleasure. Tears stream down your cheeks, making your eyes sparkle. Cheeks hallowed, lips suctioning around him until he can’t take it anymore. Pulling himself out of your mouth, Kiba reaches down and wraps you up in arms only to turn and toss you on the bed. You’re pussy clenches around nothing when you see the feral look in his eyes. He’s grinning down at you, but it isn’t nice. He’s going to devour you whole. Crack open your ribs and feast on everything that you are, everything you have to offer. When he’s had his fill and he’s done, you’ll do nothing but say thank you. 

“Spread those legs. I want that cunt.”

It’s your favorite part, when he first enters you. That first stretch, the feel of his cock making its way into you. He doesn’t know it yet, but you need to feel how much it hurts. Maybe your as fucking feral as he is. 

He swiftly moves to his knees, a hand slides across your ass, slapping you just hard enough to leave a red handprint behind as he thrust deep, bottoming out. It’s a silent scream, no sound leaving you. He’s big, so big, and he’s filling you up to the brim. It hurts, and you’re loving every inch that stretches you out. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, hard thrust. He slides a hand up your stomach, between your breasts so his hand can wrap it around your throat. He loves watching you come undone around him, and he’ll never forget it either. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers. 

“Babe,” he grits, hand tightening, cutting off a little more air, “you feel so fucking good.”

You stare back at him, feel as he moves to kneel on one knee, the angle shifting somewhere deeper inside of you. His teeth dig into your skin again, this time leaving bruises behind. It makes you whine. He thrusts harder, rougher until your hand is shooting out above your head, keeping you from hitting the headboard. He’s fully claiming you. Cock punching into the deepest part of you. Your head is empty, high in euphoria only Kiba can provide you. Words are pouring out of you, but you couldn’t understand what you were trying to say even if you wanted to. Whatever it is he wants to hear. Whatever keeps him close, keeps him inside of you. You never thought you’d get to be like this. 

“Kiba, I–” you're cut off by a whimper when he reaches that hard to reach spot deep inside you. Over and over again, you feel it coming, your orgasm is going to come crashing down. You’re going to drown in it, and you don’t know if you’ll make it out unscathed.

“You going to come on my cock, baby?”

“Yes!  Please, please, Kiba. Don’t stop. More, more, holy fuck,”

You come on his cock like a tidal wave, and when you collapse against the bed, your body trembles, heaving desperately for air. Kiba groans, pulling you up until you’re flush against him. His lips meet yours in a messy kiss, bucking his hips harder until he’s chasing his high right over the ledge with you. 

“Good girl,” he praises, letting go of your throat. “Such a good girl for me.”

It’s quiet, apart from your labored breathing. Kiba’s thumb runs along your stomach where his hand rests. He’s laying halfway on you, head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. It’s a soft moment, one you don’t wish to break. But this time, you really do need to pee.

“Kiba,” he grumbles, digging deeper into the comfort you provide. “Ki, get up. I have to pee.”

He glances up at you, clearly fighting off a grin. “You gonna kick me out this time?”

“Kiba,” you warn.

“What? Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

“Fucking, hell, Inuzuka.”

He chuckles, lifting his weight off you. He smiles at your glare. Quietly you get dressed. Your hair stacked up on your head in a messy bun. There’s no saving your makeup. You wince at your reflection, seeing your lipstick smeared all over your mouth. Calloused fingers grip your chin, lifting your face so he can mesh his lips with yours.

“You’re a vision, sweetheart.” he murmurs against your lips. “Don’t think this was a one time thing.”

Your head tilts. “Oh yeah? You addicted now?”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ve been addicted to you my whole fucking life.”

“Are you going soft on me?” 

He grins down at you. “Oh, baby. We’re just heatin’ up.”

[hidansdarling]

So the idea I had is for kiba x his longtime fem reader girlfriend.

So kiba decides to “accidentally” video tape him and the reader getting steamy one night, and when the reader finds the video she’s livid but then she gets super turned on and they get it on again while watching the tape☺️ and if you decide the video should leak that’s cool too😂

ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕒 𝕊𝕙𝕪

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕂𝕚𝕓𝕒 𝕩 𝔽𝕖𝕞 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝕨: ℕ𝕠𝕟-𝕔𝕠𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕖𝕩, 𝕔𝕦𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕤, 𝕧𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟚.𝟛 𝕜 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: 𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕥 𝕓𝕦𝕦𝕦𝕦𝕦𝕦𝕦𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕒𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝

ℝ𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕝𝕤 𝕓𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕖, 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕦 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪 <𝟛𝟛

It was an accident. 

Honestly, it was an accident. 

A very, very, very happy accident from his perspective, but an accident nonetheless. 

At least that’s what Kiba told himself, although it didn’t help the guilt that twisted in his stomach as he watched your face contort in pleasure as it had just a few days prior. 

Kiba had set up a hidden camera in the shared bedroom of your apartment with the purest intentions. Initially, the idea was to capture your real, organic reaction to the present he had planned to give you, a beautiful necklace he knew you’d love. You had been searching every shop you passed for something of the sort, but much to your displeasure, every piece you came across fell short of your expectations. Luckily, Kiba had stopped into a shop on the way home from his most recent mission on a whim, not expecting to find exactly what you’d described. He didn’t bother to check the price, he knew he had to have it for you.

With such an extravagant gift, Kiba decided to wait for the perfect moment to give it to you. He sat on the edge of your bed, a small, neat box holding the necklace clutched gently in his palm as he waited for your arrival. Unfortunately, you were having a particularly bad day and all you wanted was to blow off some steam when you got home. Angrily, you stomped into the room, throwing your jacket to the floor, not bothering with pleasantries before telling him to strip.

Kiba was conflicted, determined not to ruin the surprise but also painfully aware of the camera positioned with a perfect view of the events that were about to occur. He couldn’t deny the growing tightness of his pants as he thought about it, your impatient voice quickly pulling him from his thoughts as you tugged at the button of his jeans, shirt already discarded into the growing pile of clothing on the floor. 

Against his better judgment, he pushed the dilemma out of his mind, carefully slipping the necklace into the drawer of the bedside table before ravishing your body with an animalistic vigor. 

Far too soon, you’d gone on a trip with some of the other girls of Konoha, taking a couple of nights away at the hot springs, leaving Kiba alone back at your apartment. The camera had plagued him for days, it seemed like every chance he had to get rid of the video he’d taken, you’d show up just before he got the opportunity. Rummaging around in the drawer he had hidden it in, he was soon pulled from the task once again by Naruto, instead attending a gathering the boys of Konoha were hosting for the evening. 

The next day, Kiba was quick to grab the camera, settling back down into the bed with the full intention of deleting the video right away. He was quick to succumb to his weakness as he turned on the device, catching a glimpse of your goddess-like frame draped over him in the preview image. Kiba just missed you so much, it would be a shame for such a lovely memory to go completely to waste, the way his cock began to harden at the simple sight doing nothing to deter his actions. Slipping his thick cock out of his pants, he pressed play on the video, beginning to stroke himself teasingly as the video replayed, soon finding himself overwhelmed with the depraved pleasure it brought. 

You loved spending time with your friends, but more time spent away from your lover only put a damper on your mood. Deciding to return home a day early, you slipped into the building quietly, expecting to come home to your sleeping boyfriend. Instead, you were met with his soft groans and sighs, the sounds igniting an excitement within you. As you crept down the hallway, your excitement was quick to turn into burning anger. Paired with his own, higher-pitched, loud moans filled the room, the sounds of another person. 

“Who the fuck are you-” Your expression switched from that of seething rage to total bewilderment, Kiba’s guilty appearance only furthering your confusion. 

“O-oh, Y/N! What are you doing home so, um, so early?” He stuttered, scrambling to turn the device off before tucking his still-aching cock back into his pants, unknowing that his large fingers had failed to press the correct small button.

“Why are you watching porn on a camera?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed, closing the distance between you two to snatch the camera from him. At this point, you weren’t sure what to expect, but nothing could’ve prepared you to see your own fucked-out expression on the screen.

Kiba’s stomach churned as you pulled the camera from his grasp, throat drying out as his mouth hung open, wishing he had any explanation for what you were about to see. Mentally, he cursed himself for not deleting it sooner, for letting himself indulge in the temptation when he knew it was wrong, to begin with. Simultaneously, Kiba felt he couldn’t ever look you in the eye again but couldn’t avert his gaze as he watched your face twist with anger. 

“Y/N, I-I can explain, I swear!” He pleaded as he reached for the camera. Wordlessly, you sharply moved the camera just out of his grasp, fixated on the scene unfolding in front of you. You were angry, exasperated even, but seeing the wonderful way you pleasured each other from the outside had you absolutely entranced. Your jaw clenched as the heat in your core grew, you needed both an explanation of how this video came to exist and for Kiba to be buried inside you the same way he was just days ago. It only took a few mere moments for one need to grow much stronger, your clit beginning to ache as you watched yourself cum around his cock, practically feeling the waves of bliss travel throughout your body again. 

“Come on, talk to me!” Kiba succeeded in taking the camera from you, placing it on the bedside table before turning back to you, unable to read the expression you wore. “Please? It was an accident, I swear! You’ll understand once I explain, I pro-” 

Raising an eyebrow, you looked him up and down as he spoke, lust-filled eyes glaring daggers into his own. “Shut up and fuck me.” You demanded, taking a step towards him. 

“Wha- what are you getting at?” Kiba’s flushed face stared back at you in utter confusion. 

Forcefully, you shoved him back onto the bed, pulling off your shirt before crawling onto the mattress to straddle him. 

“You’re gonna make me ask twice, huh?” You spat, voice laced deliciously with venom. You leaned over him, lips lingering beside his ear as you spoke slowly. “I said shut up and fuck me.” 

Confusion swirled inside Kiba, but he certainly wasn’t in the position to make you ask again. 

“You’re really sexy when you’re angry, you know that?” He said, shocked but thrilled at the events that were about to unfold. 

Swiftly, he flipped you onto your back, pressing a line of wet, opened-mouth kisses down your jaw as he fumbled with the button of your pants. He made his way down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, reaching a hand up to give your other breast a squeeze. 

You sighed, closing your eyes as you relaxed back into the mattress, the intensity of the situation making the lightest of touches all the more pleasurable. You found yourself mindlessly gently grinding your hips upwards against his body, already growing impatient that his attention wasn’t where you needed him most. 

“Don’t tease.” You said sternly, met with an unusual obedience from him as he switched to your other nipple, his fingers gently running down your sides as his tongue flicked against your skin. 

He pulled away only for a moment, his fingers slipping underneath the waist of your pants, tugging them down your legs along with your panties and discarding them onto the floor. 

Kiba pressed a couple kisses down your stomach and across your inner thighs, sharp teeth grazing across your soft skin to leave a trail of harsh marks.

Finally, he began to pay attention to your soaked pussy, simply feeling his hot breath against your exposed skin heightening your excitement. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly as he leaned in, licking a teasing stripe from your hole to your clit, sending a shiver down your spine. 

The complaints about to come out of you were quickly replaced by loud moans as Kiba decided he’d teased enough, beginning to lap at your cunt at a feverish pace. 

Whenever Kiba was between your legs like this, you knew you were in for it. His lips latched onto your clit, his tongue swirling deliciously around it as your fingers tangled in his hair, your thighs already shaking with the rapidly-building pleasure he brought you. 

Everything about this made every nerve of your body ignite with heat. The way he touched you, the way he knew exactly what you needed, the desperate noises he made even when he was touching you, all of it overwhelmed you every time. 

It wasn’t long until he brought you so close to the edge, but held you there, wanting to hear you beg for the release you craved so badly. 

“S-so close.” You whined between moans, bucking your hips up against him, desperate for just a little more to send you over that edge and into ecstasy. “More, p-please, fuck, m’so close Kiba.” 

Smiling to himself, he happily obliged, quickening his pace just enough to give you what you wanted.

You came with a cry of his name, your limp body trembling as his strong hands held your thighs apart, his pace not letting up until you practically pulled him away from your core.

“You taste so good, pretty girl.” He cooed, his hungry eyes taking in the sight of your naked body against the sheets as he tugged off his own pants and underwear. 

Fuck, you looked so good. 

Unfortunately for him, your anger had hardly subsided. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want me to forgive you.” You teased, peering up at him through your eyelashes. 

Lucky for you, it wasn’t in Kiba’s nature to shy away from a challenge. 

He was back on you in an instant, catching your lips in a passionate kiss as his hands explored every inch of you, one settling around your waist to pull your body as close as you could possibly get while the other tangled in your hair. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hips grinding up against his, the tip of his leaking cock catching your clit just right each time, sending a shock of pleasure through you both each time. 

“I need you.” You said breathlessly as he allowed you to push him onto his back, his strong grip on your waist pulling you along with him. 

You lined him up with your entrance, a devilish grin on your face as you sunk down on his cock only partway before moving back up again, repeating this a couple times as you leaned down to kiss him again.

“Fuck baby, you always feel so good.” He groaned, throwing his head back, barely resisting the urge to fuck himself up into you. “Need to feel that pretty pussy around me already.” 

If you weren’t already feeling just as desperate as he was, you might’ve come back with something clever, but the need within you to feel him deep inside you overrode whatever spite you were feeling.

Gradually, you began to sink down further until your skin hit his, soon falling into a steady rhythm as you chased your second high. 

Kiba couldn’t keep his eyes off your face as you gasped and moaned. The video had been a nice reminder of the faces and sounds you made, but it couldn’t compare to the real thing. Reaching between your bodies, he began to rub soft circles around your clit, his other hand on your hip to steady you. 

“You look so beautiful like this.” He groaned, unable to stop himself from bucking his hips up into you, matching the pace you’d set.

Each deep thrust sent electricity throughout your body, the way his tip brushed against all the right places deep within you paired with his skilled hands working your clit threatened to have you falling apart on his cock at any moment. 

Kiba felt this too, absolutely entranced by the sight of you and the sounds you made, his mind couldn’t help but wander back to that accidental video, wondering what kind of show you would put on if you two decided to create a sexy film for real.

His hips snapped against yours harder, faster, a satisfied grin on his face as he felt you tighten around him, the gasps and moans of his name falling from your lips sounding even better than they had before. 

Fuck, he was lucky you were his girl.

Your thighs began to tremble as he pushed himself up into you, intense shock-waves of pleasure running throughout every nerve, your high approaching quickly and intensely with every touch. 

Only moments later, you came with a loud cry of his name, his peak following shortly after, his pelvis flush with yours as he released inside you, his own whines reverberating throughout the room.

Your limp body collapsed against his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you both caught your breath. 

Anxiously, Kiba cleared his throat, shooting you a nervous smile. 

“So, um, how was your trip?”

“We’ll talk about that later.” You said, sitting up and raising your eyebrows. “You still have a lot of explaining to do.

[azurelyy]

ok, i saw your event and read through the prompts and as soon as i saw that last one in the smut list, i immediately thought of kiba, lmao.

so #20 for kiba with a f!reader? would that be something you're willing to do? ^-^

congrats on 100, btw!! super happy for you 💛

Manda! Thank you so much for the request, my love. Lowkey, I was hoping someone would choose Kiba or Koga for this prompt and I'm glad it was you. It really is perfect for him! 🖤

This is my first Kiba story, and I'm posting it for the Queen of Kibs... so I am a bit nervous. Thank you for trusting me with him and I hope you enjoy!

By the way... I realize these keep getting longer and longer and I am sorry for that lol. I promise I am doing my best to keep them around 2k words, but I am obviously not good at keeping things brief. I even trimmed a lot of this story out and rewrote it down from 6k... my bad.

🍋 Prompt: "I didn't say I wanted an apology, did I? I said 'Bite me again.'"

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: NSFW, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, college AU/modern AU, fratboy! Kiba, mentions of alcohol, mouth fingering, teasing

You were about five degrees away from murdering Ino. You circled around the frat house for what felt like the fifth time, scanning every inch of the crowd for your best friend’s signature high, platinum blonde ponytail. Nothing. Again. You sighed and hung your head in defeat as you slumped against the wall.

Instant and immediate regret hit you like a truck as your palms grew sweaty and you observed the utter chaos that surrounded you. There was a slip and slide inside the living room, with various frat boys in their boxers taking turns and screaming, dumping beverages from their cups onto the guys as they slid by, chanting what you assumed was some sort of frat code that may as well have been in total Neanderthal. The smell of cheap booze and even cheaper cologne filled your nose and every surface was coated in a sticky, thin film of liquor. It was exactly as you imagined a frat party to be - bustling with sweaty college students, laser lights, and pounding music - it was awful.

Sure, I’ll go to a frat party with you. You mocked yourself as you walked back towards where you thought the kitchen was. You had circled the house enough that you hoped you’d memorized the lay out by now, but you couldn’t be sure since the only lights were strobbing so madly you nearly had a seizure. Definitely don’t have a million other things I’d rather be doing, or anything.

You checked your watch: 10:30pm. Did you even need to keep your promise to stay until midnight if Ino wasn’t even here with you? You huffed and walked towards a window, seeing a smaller group of party guests outside circling around a brunette in a leather jacket and black combat boots, shotgunning a beer. You watched, amused, as he finished the can and crushed it into his strong hand, tossing it to the wayside as another can was thrown at him. He proceeded to down three more beers, back to back. You shook your head and turned away - you wouldn’t be surprised if that idiot was the one to end up in the hospital due to alcohol poisoning.

Frat boys.

You scoffed as you realized that Ino was completely gone and walked towards the drink bar in anger, filling up a red solo cup with an unknown liquid, removing your sucker momentarily, and chugged- trying your best to ignore the chants of ‘chug, chug, chug!’ from around you - the alcohol burned your throat as you filled your cup again and glanced around the kitchen a final time. You sighed, rolling your eyes, and stepped outside for some much needed fresh air.

The party out here was much less chaotic, and you decided to take a seat on one of the lounge chairs by the pool as you watched a different boy join the middle of the circle and try to chug down a beer; a tall guy with light brown hair and purple face paint. He wasn’t nearly as good as the last guy, and gave up after only one and a half beers. The group all booed him, loud laughter seeping over the faint music, as you smirked and observed the back of the leather jacket guy. 

You could tell he was hot, even without seeing his face. His back muscles rippled delectably in his jacket; his strong forearms emphasized by the tight leather. He reminded you a lot of the guy you had been hooking up with all summer. He was just very... Kiba, with the way he effortlessly exuded an alluring energy, or the way he carried himself, all high and mighty like he owned the place. Deadly, focused; a strange wolf-like aura that let you know he had to be the leader everywhere he went. He even had the same messy, chestnut hair. You, briefly, pondered what it would be like if he crushed you in his big arms and immediately shook your head, looking towards the sky, embarrassed by your lewd thoughts. 

He’s in a frat. He’s in a frat. You thought, repeating it to yourself as if that would somehow make him less sexy. Frat guys suck. Frat guys suck.

“Hey,” a deep voice lulled, curtaining around you like a protective barrier. Your muscles stiffened as a stroke of familiarity washed over you and you slowly brought your gaze up. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

You locked onto eyes of liquid gold, slowly burning their way along your entire face before focusing on your lips. He had red triangles painted on his cheeks, and the kind of electric smile that could power a whole city. Your heart pounded inside your chest as realization crashed into you and your fingers slipped around the cup, nearly dropping it. Your cute sucker toppled from your lips and crashed to the cold concrete, shattering into a sea of translucent red shards. “K-Kiba?”

He grinned, showing off his perfect teeth in the light of the pool. Every inch of your body was set on fire as he slowly said your name, emphasizing each vowel as though he’d never tasted something quite so sweet and he leaned down to be at eye level with you. His rich amber and cedarwood cologne was slightly spicy and aromatic, cutting through the sharp smells of booze, as he firmly placed his hand onto your knee and continued chatting about something. His voice sounded as though it were miles away and you had to close your eyes to try and steady your heart as a strong hand reached out and cupped your cheek, guiding your soul back to your body.

“Hey, are you alright?” Kiba asked, concern laced in his tone. “This juice is really strong, so maybe you should take it easy.” He gripped onto the cup and guided it from your hand to set down next to the broken candy-coated shards of sugar from your sucker. His breath was tinted with the tang of alcohol, his face so close to you that you could practically feel the way his lips would meld onto yours if you just leaned in a bit more.

“Sorry,” you breathed, clenching your fists onto your thighs as you continued gazing at his cupid's bow. “I-I zoned out.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Kiba questioned, placing the back of his hand to your forehead. “You feel hot. And your hands are shaking.”

Yeah, because your face is inches away from mine and I want to rip your clothes off. “I’m fine,” you responded coolly, waving your hand dismissively, “Just… surprised to see you… here.”

Kiba laughed and stood up, extending you his hand. “I live here. I should be the one surprised to see you.” You took his hand and he immediately wrapped his strong arm around your waist, leaning his head down so he could whisper into your ear. “Wanna have our reunion somewhere more… private?”

Surprisingly, even after chugging three or more beers, Kiba’s speech was only slightly slurred. You nodded, unable to speak, and he gave you a wicked grin as his arm around you tightened, sealing your fate.

He led you back into the house, guiding you through the maze of people and up the sticky staircase. It coated the bottom of your high heels with unknown liquids, each step nearly tripping you due to the extra force required to pull yourself free. Kiba’s hand was your anchor as he safely brought you upstairs, his calloused fingers intertwined with yours like a comforting blanket. He turned to face you when finally reached the top with a look of concern, glancing between your eyes and your lips. 

“I’m fine, really,” you assured him, poking the tip of his nose, “I think you’re more drunk than me, Mr. Shotgun.”

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and you saw his face tint a beautiful shade of rose as he averted his warm eyes from you. “Good,” he gulped and reached for his jacket pocket, pulling out a small key, “I mean… I’m glad you’re feeling alright.”

Kiba’s hands were shaking profusely as he unlocked his door and allowed you go inside, quickly scanning the area before closing you in; trapping you with the beast. The room was a decent size, with two twin sized beds on either wall. One side was much messier, but you wouldn’t label either as tidy, per se. He looked back at you briefly as you stood in the middle of the room, uncertain of what to do. What you wanted to do was pounce on him, or have him push you onto one of the beds and rip your dress off. You heard his belt buckle jingle and felt heat sear its way up your neck as Kiba looped his belt around the doorknob and a standing lamp, securing it in place with a tight knot. 

“My roommate has the other key,” he said casually, “And um… That was a weird thing to do, wasn’t it? I can take it off.”

“Kiba,” you said slowly, feeling pinpricks in every nerve of your body, “Leave it that way.”

His gaze lifted from the floor and he looked right into your soul. You were breathtaking. Kiba briefly reflected on the beach trip he took with his family that summer and the way he had been instantly drawn to you. Saying goodbye was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and he cursed himself throughout the entire rest of the summer for not getting your number; now here you were. In his room. Alone. Well, despite the raging party just outside of the door. 

He sauntered over to you, slowly, as though he were scared you would run away. Your heart was beating rapidly as he pulled you towards him - his magnetic force stronger than gravity itself - his arms enveloped around your waist as you left yours at your sides. You watched his sharp eyes darken as he stood a few inches away, slowly leaning his head down to rest on your forehead. 

“Kiba,” you whispered, gripping onto the edge of his leather jacket, the metal zipper almost icy against your seething skin. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

A growl rumbled from his chest as he pushed his lips onto yours ferociously. The kiss was animalistic, your teeth clicking against his as he sucked your tongue into his mouth and gripped onto your ass. You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as you tasted the yeasty beer on his breath. It was musky and warm, almost inviting. The wall hit your back with a powerful force as Kiba moaned into the kiss and your hands gripped into his spiky brown hair. There were flames in your lungs as you helped Kiba pull your dress off, exposing your lacy set to him fully and he trailed his mouth down your jaw as he worked his free hand over your already hard nipple through the fabric. 

“I never stopped thinking about you,” Kiba rasped as he sucked at your neck, the familiar heat of a forming bruise rushing where his lips met your skin. You closed your eyes tightly as powerful energy surged its way through your veins and Kiba continued assaulting you with his mouth. “You look so fucking hot.”

He pulled back and smirked as he carried you to a small bed, placing you down gently and continuing to kiss every inch of your exposed skin as you kicked your heels off, slowly working his way to your throbbing cunt. His hands easily removed your panties and he hovered his mouth above your entrance teasingly, blowing cool air over your hot folds as you gripped tightly onto the dark bedsheets. 

“Kiba, wait,” you cried, grasping at his hair. He looked up at you and crawled back over your body, planting a quick kiss to your cheek. “What if someone comes in?”

He kissed your cheek again, then your nose, then your lips. Every sweet touch of his lips caused warmth to flood through your veins, igniting you in a hearthlike heat that you hadn’t felt since the last time the two of you met. “That’s what the belt’s for,” he said thickly, wrapping his arm around your back and unhooking your bra expertly. “Remember?”

You leaned forward and kissed down his neck, enjoying the way his muscles inadvertently twitched at the little caresses you laid across his body. As he removed your bra and rubbed a calloused finger around your areola, a boiling pressure formed deep within your stomach and you bit his shoulder, hard. You felt your fangs sink into his flesh and you pulled back, your face flushed with arousal and embarrassment, but Kiba’s fine mouth was formed into a toothy grin and he was saying something that you couldn’t understand.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. You’re bleeding.” You were writhing beneath him, trying to get him off so you could help him with the wound. He grabbed your wrists in one hand and looked at you so intensely that you were afraid of what he would do if you looked away. Every part of your brain shut off as he groaned, “I didn’t say I wanted an apology, did I?” He leaned forward, pushing two strong fingers into your mouth. “I said ‘Bite me again’.”

His knuckles hung from your lips as he moved his hot mouth to your chest and sucked a nipple between his lips, toying with your breasts until you were breathless and straining. You did as he commanded and bit his fingers each time he nibbled your puffy peaks, whining and squealing as he teased you with the barest touch of his rough tongue and tugged at your other nipple with his free hand.

What happened next was unexpected.

Instead of teasing you more, or kissing you, or making some smart-ass comment, Kiba pulled back and stood above you, slowly removing every article of his clothing and tossing it to the floor. Instead of telling you to move, he watched you with an unreadable expression. Not for the first time, you were awestruck by just how sexy he was - in the most primal way, as he removed his briefs and his thick cock sprung forward and bounced off the abs of his lower-stomach. Short, curly brown hairs surrounded his length around the base and trailed up to his belly button, his rosy tip already glistening with precum. Fuck, you wanted his cock in your mouth and in your cunt.

You imagined yourself from his perspective - your hair all askew, your skin glowing in the light of the singular lamp as dark shadows enveloped your curves, the way your eyes were blown out from lust and want - and you knew that, to him, you probably felt like a ghost who had been resurrected to the land of the living, something familiar yet new to him.

You smirked as you lifted your arms above your head and stretched. “If you need a reminder, I’d be happy to point you in the right direction.” You teased, lowering your voice into that husky tone you used with him all summer.

“I know what I want to do, sweetheart,” Kiba breathed, “I just want to look at you for a sec.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you reached out to him. “Come on, Kiba.” Your voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper. “Please. Want you inside me.”

He faltered and you saw his fingers twitch as he glanced to the drawer of his nightstand and you shook your head at him, reaching your hand out to him even further, stretching your arm so far it hurt. “Did you forget everything about fucking me? I’m on the pill.”

He made a broken noise and fell to his knees on the bed, one low note scraping out as he wrapped his arms under to pull you to his lap. His cock pressed against you and he paused to watch your face once again, completely mesmerized. You lifted your hips and slipped yourself over his head with a sigh as you wrapped your legs around him and pushed your heels to the bed, giving yourself leverage. Your face fell against his shoulder and you kissed the love bite you gave him earlier as he slowly thrust himself deeper inside you, stretching your drenched walls deliciously and gently. His breathing was ragged and gruff from how tight you were, his cock curving straight into your lower abdomen. Kiba closed his eyes at the new sensation of the angle; his body completely overwhelmed by the warmth radiating from your pussy and yearning to get deeper so he could feel you surround him fully. 

“Does this feel like I forgot how to fuck you, sweetheart?” He hummed, moving at an agonizingly slow pace. “Say it to my face. Say you don’t feel good.”

You dug your nails into the back of his neck as he continued his shallow thrusts into you; spare movements of his hips that made your breath hitch and come out in gasps. Desperately, you clenched your feet and pulled yourself forward, pushing him deeper inside you as you grit your teeth through the slight pain of how thick he was, but as he pushed so deep you could feel his balls slap against your cunt, every other thought in your head was lost at the sensation of being filled.

“Fuck,” Kiba groaned, rolling his hips into you. “You’re so wet.”

You dug your heels firmly into the mattress, trying to push him even further into your cervix. You wanted to feel nothing but him - his ferocity, his throbbing girth, his sharp teeth - even just thinking about him somehow getting past the point that evolution intended was driving you mad with lust. Your mewls were helpless as you gripped tightly onto his neck, your nails digging into his damp baby hairs, your little teeth sinking into the glistening skin of his shoulder once again.

“Desperate little thing,” Kiba’s voice was primal and deep, rumbling your entire core. “Just enjoy it, yeah?” You shook your head and he laughed at your pleading. In retaliation, you clenched your cunt around him and swooned when his laughter turned into a guttural moan of pleasure.

“Do that again, and I’m not responsible for what happens.” Kiba warned, scratching his nails down the length of your spine. You bit your lip, considering the warning deeply, before clenching again and pulling your head back to roll your mouth over his. 

Carnal clashing of teeth and slapping of skin were the only sounds to fill the room as Kiba quickened his pace within you, taking full control as he rocked his hips up in quick and jerky movements. Touching him, as much of him as possible, was all you wanted. Your hands moved all over his shoulder blades, down his spine, up in his hair. 

An image, so immediate it cut you open, filled your head: you, crouched over Kiba, his thick cock in your mouth, his rough tongue thrusting into your cunt; inside you twice over until all you could feel was him.

Oh fuck, oh fuck. You might have even tried to say it, and the hum of your words against his mouth was Kiba’s breaking point. His rhythm stuttered as he leaned your back to the mattress and he shoved your legs flush against your belly and moved into a half-crouch. “I warned you not to do that again,” his voice broke open into a rumble, like stones falling, and the air between your bodies simmered. “Now I’ve gotta punish you.” He punctuated his sentence by pulling your hips down in a sharp jerk. He thrust, hard, until you squealed and rocked back against him.

In this position, you wouldn’t last long. You held your legs up by the back of your thighs as Kiba reached up and placed three thick fingers into your mouth, not allowing you any space to think. He was so deep it was painful, but the burn was worth it to feel the rough muscles of his thighs rub against your skin.

You tried to speak which resulted in Kiba thrusting his fingers deeper into your throat, causing tears to well in your eyes as you continued rocking around like a baby trying to roll over. His rhythm was harsh, unforgiving. You could feel your breasts bouncing with each pump and knew Kiba was watching them as he smoothed his free palm over your chest, soothing your scorching skin. 

He listened to the thick squelching and watched himself thrust deeper inside of you as you laid with your legs pushed up; the position so lewd he had to bite his inner cheek just to stop himself from finishing too quickly. There was a thick ring of fluid surrounding his cock each time he pulled out of you; the sweet yet musky smell of sex lingering strongly in the air. He had thought about you every night since his vacation, and had definitely touched himself to you more times than he would ever care to admit, but he had never pictured you doing this. He wanted so desperately to take a picture of you so he could have it forever, and briefly smiled to himself when he realized that you might possibly let him do that - much later, but still, he didn’t intend to let you go again any time soon.

You were on the edge of writhing his fingers from your mouth to ask him for a better angle when he slowly drifted his palm down the length of your stomach and circled your clit with his thumb. It was all too much - the tight knot of heat in your cunt, the too-sensitive skin of your breasts, his fingers dangling from your mouth - you were overloading and god, had you missed him so much - but what ruined you was the way he nudged his mouth against your knee and placed a gentle kiss to your skin.

You came apart with a sob, clenching and driving onto Kiba’s cock as each spasm washed through you. He kept thrusting, stringing out his pleasure until you were a panting mess on his bed. When your eyelashes fluttered open, you saw his golden pools of amber watching over you. 

You nodded and adjusted your legs to hook around his waist. Later, when you were both less desperate, you would explore the subtler ways at making him shiver, but right now, you wanted to feel him come, and you wanted to feel it now.

You looped your arms around his neck as his face nestled into the crook of your neck and he pulled you closer. Muffled groans sang against your skin as his rhythm slowed to a maddening pace and he hummed into your neck. You could feel the vibration like it was in your own muscles as you tightened your legs around his middle, ignoring the sting in your hips, and pulled him closer, feeling your nipples graze against his hot skin.

Kiba came with a beastly noise, his hands squeezing you almost painfully and his sharp teeth sinking into the skin of your earlobe. You clenched down again and again, working his cock through the jerky spasms that you felt deep within the walls of your cunt as he drained his white-hot fluid inside of you.

He gasped and rolled to the side, pulling himself out of you with shaky hands. You hummed and nuzzled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. You could hear his heart in his chest, steady as a beating drum, as he kissed your hair and held you tightly, as though you would disappear before his very eyes.

A loud banging on the bedroom door nearly knocked the wind out of you as you jolted from Kiba and the door opened just a hair, the music growing louder as it caught on Kiba’s makeshift belt-door-latch. He laughed and you both cursed profusely as you scrambled to find your articles of clothing in the dimly lit bedroom.

“Seriously, Kiba? What the fuck?” You nearly had a heart attack at the sound of a raspy man’s voice coming from the other side of the door as you dropped your dress from your hand. “I need the room, man. Stop jerking yourself!”

“Naruto!” Kiba shouted, pulling his shirt on and slinking towards the door. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Maybe there’s another room…” Oh no, oh no. It was Ino. This was not happening!

You frantically waved your arms, trying to catch Kiba’s attention. You ran forward, sliding your dress over yourself without any underwear - you honestly had more things to worry about than going commando at the moment - right as the door opened.

Ino’s face was completely red as she watched a blonde - Naruto? - with a doe-eyed gaze. She was so drunk she hardly noticed the door open, but you saw her eyes light up with realization ever so slowly before she burst into a fit of laughter.

“You hate frat boys!” She shrieked, gasping for air and clinging to Naruto’s arm as though it were a life raft. “But here you are with-” Ino paused and looked at Kiba, who was just about as red as she was when he realized she knew you.

“Kiba,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes; either at Ino or Naruto, or both, you weren’t sure.

“Keyy-bahh,” Ino emphasized, tasting his name on her tongue for the first time. “I can’t believe this!”

“Just… give us five minutes?” You pleaded, gently shutting the door as Ino’s sun-kissed escort went to protest. You turned to Kiba and gripped onto his strong arms to adjust them to wrap around your waist as you nuzzled into his chest. “God, they’re both really annoying.”

He laughed and kissed the top of your head, resting his chin on you as he sighed, “Yeah, they’re terrible.”

You pulled back and he caressed your cheek with his thumb, enjoying the way your hair shone in the moonlight that cracked through his curtains. “Wanna go on a date?”

You gaped at him as your heart started pounding again. Would that ever stop happening when he was around? You hoped not. “Like… now?”

He shrugged and flashed you a small smirk, his canine tooth sticking out slightly from behind his upper lip. “Yeah, why not? This party sucks and besides, I think my room will be occupied for a few hours. I know a 24/7 diner not too far. That is, unless you don’t want to?”

He gave you a look that made you realize this motherfucker knew you wanted to go on a date with him, but he was so attractive that you only hummed as you slipped your panties on underneath your dress and pulled the straps down, exposing your breasts to him again. You watched as his Adam’s apple wiggled and you hooked your bra on, pulling your dress up and giving him a small twirl. Sweat glistened across his forehead and you walked closer to him, taking his hand in yours as you traced your index finger across the lines on the inside of his palm.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, feeling a bit shy. Kiba closed his hand around your finger and lifted your chin up with his thumb. He gave you a warm smile before he kissed you with the force of the moon, pulling you even deeper into his gravitational field; no small feat, considering this man had you hooked from the moment you met his sunlight eyes on the beach just over three months ago. 

“By the way, what time is it?” You asked as you turned to leave, Kiba following close behind.

“A bit past midnight. Why? Gonna turn into a pumpkin or something?”

You hummed as you reached back to take his hand in yours, enjoying the electric shock that coursed through your hand as his fingers interlocked with yours. “Oh, no reason.” Just like I promised, Ino, you thought. Kiba opened the door and you slipped past Ino and her hookup as he guided you down the stairs. I’m leaving at midnight.

If you liked this, please consider reblogging to support my work. As always, be sure to scream at me in the comments if you enjoyed!

Requests for the event are still open here.

[tired-biscuit]

Grow Fonder

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: kiba inuzuka/fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 18+ mdni // age gap (10+ years), teacher/student relationship, power dynamic, mention of explicit pictures, oral (m!receiving), fingering, creampie, slightly dominant reader, slightly awkward professor!kiba. reader is a senju, cos i couldn't bother with y/l/n. modern/college AU.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 18.4k+

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: this one was a challenge to write, not gonna lie. whoever reads this entire monster of a fic, i'm sending you a big kiss and a hug, 'cause you're a real one fr. <3

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: After sending an accidental email containing your nude to your zoology professor, interesting things commence.

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

YOU’RE tired.

There are plenty of reasons as to why. It’s late. You’ve studied all night. The clock that’s situated across the old refrigerator currently ticks a little over half past eleven, annoyingly reminding you that it’d be a wise decision to head to bed and get some much needed rest before your morning classes start. 

The sink you now linger by has finally been emptied of the dirty dishes that had been piling up over the course of the week. Unlike yourself, both of your roommates had been smart enough to finish their chores early and part just as quickly. Already soundly asleep; the doors that lead to their respectful bedrooms are closed shut.

You aren’t surprised, really. It’s a perfect night for snoozing, after all – cold and quiet. As you stand in the little kitchenette of your modest student apartment, dressed in your warmest pajamas and fuzzy socks, there isn’t a sound to be heard besides the mellow pitter-patter of rain that occasionally makes the window to your left rattle.

The sound calms you, but your mind still continues to whir as you open the tap and wait for the water to reach room temperature. Much like the ancient boiler that takes ages to start working, your kitchen is just as busted and could definitely use some renovating. 

Perhaps you could gather a couple of your friends and throw a splash of colour on the walls with their help, maybe add some indoor plants that you could place on the windowsills? Now that you’ve finally finished and submitted the assignment to your dumb zoology professor, you could do it over the weekend, buy a bottle of wine or two, and–

Wait.

Did you send the assignment…?

You’re nearly finished with filling up your water bottle when it dawns upon you, the acknowledgement sharp as ice. Blinking whilst still standing next to the sink, you watch as the cool liquid begins to overflow the rim of the bottle, dousing both of your hands with cold water that never even got the chance to heat up. 

Your face twists at the unpleasant sensation.

It must be a mistake. Has to be. 

Right?

Staring at the tap you’ve just turned off, anxiety begins to creep in. You must be wrong – you’re sure of it, no, you’re positive – and yet slow, albeit steady panic still continues to crawl inside your brain like an icky spider. With every passing second you spend inside the kitchen you’re barely paying rent for, looking like some stupid standing emoji, the cloud of doubt looming above your head grows bigger and bigger.

You definitely remember seeing that file amongst the mess of documents on your computer whilst you’d been typing the email. And that’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that, but now you’re stuck wondering if your stupid, idiotic self actually managed to… send it somehow?

In mere seconds, your water bottle is sent flying into the sink as you sprint back towards your bedroom with quick-paced footsteps; all of them executed in absolute haste. You haven’t even run a long distance, and your breaths are already shaky by the time you reach your desk, teeth chewing on the fresh manicure that you've saved up for as you practically yank open your laptop and tap the browser with eyes as wide open as a frightful fawn’s. 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” Impatience seeps out of you now. Your pupils turn big as saucers as you take the moment to just scan the page that finally opens up after the computer comes back to life. 

Palms turn clammy as you begin to click around. Dread is blooming and increasing inside your chest, pulsating inside of you in a beat like that of a warrior drum. Even your fingers are trembling above the used touchpad in the same quivery way your upper lip does now. Every breath you suck into your lungs is becoming increasingly painful.

Finally landing onto the thing you’ve been searching for like some fucking maniac – special thanks to your shitty apartment’s equally as shitty Internet connection – you check and skim through the email you’ve sent out just a couple of minutes ago. 

[You] Thursday, 11:27 PM

Dear Professor Inuzuka,

I’m terribly sorry for reaching out this late, however I’ve finally finished fixing all of the mistakes in my assignment that you were so kind to point out. Attached below is the document containing the final version. 

Again, I apologize for all the inconvenience I might have caused with my tardiness. Hopefully this email finds you well.

Kind regards,

y/n Senju

So far so good, right? As your eyes scan the text, you attempt to ignore the way your heart continues to thunder inside your chest. Besides the dryness, there’s nothing off with the message itself, it seems.

And that is indeed true; there really isn’t anything wrong with the message. The problem hides in the assignment you’ve sent – or the lack thereof.

So you open the file that is attached below your rather snippy email. And cringe at the image that pops up. Ignoring the sweat that trickles down your neck, you close the damn thing so swiftly that the screen threatens to lag, and repeat it all over again. And again. Just to be sure and to suffer some more while you’re at it.

There’s no doubt about it now. Stomach clenching in pure horror, nausea overcomes you as you see yourself on the screen – body almost completely nude – instead of the paper you’ve just spent hours working on like a lunatic.

Congratulations! Being the braindead girl that you are when you’re tired, you’ve just succeeded in sending your nude to the worst person imaginable, if you exclude your parents. Your fucking nude – sent to your fucking zoology professor, who you borderline despise because of how mean he can get during lessons.

Great.

Speaking of mean, you’re surprised you aren’t dead already because of it. Whenever you look at the screen and see his name, the world begins to spin. You actually feel physically ill. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip in an attempt of biting down a miserable sob and stabilizing yourself, you’re beginning to tremble in your cheap desk chair that had come along with the dorm’s furniture.

I mean, what the fuck are you supposed to do now? Yell at your professor in all caps lock to not open the email? Block him? Never show your face on campus again? Move across the state and start a new life under the pseudonym of your favourite fictional character?

Now that you think about it, he’d probably like that. Considering how the first semester is going so far, getting you out of his class is probably his number one priority. He’s always had it in for you for absolutely no reason – not any reason that you know of, anyway. You’d just be doing him a favour at this point.

But pushing all of that to the side, you’re still panicking. Staring at the screen through blurry vision because of the quickly-upcoming tears that are threatening to spill any moment now, you’re just about ready to bawl your eyes out. To tear your hair out. To take yourself out. 

Ping!

The sound makes you nearly jump out of your skin. Dread overcomes you all over again as your phone flashes the notification of a new email that shows up a second before your laptop comes in sync with the device, and updates the list of unopened messages in your browser. 

It seems that Mr. Inuzuka doesn’t intend to give you enough time to do any of the, ‘getting rid of this situation, and consequently yourself’ schemes you were planning on executing, because right now, his response is waiting for you to click open in bold font.

Your stomach is still twisting; pressing even harder on your rising nausea. The lump that’s formed inside your throat is so big that it’s impossible to swallow as you take a deep breath and – click!

As is expected, his reply is snippy, but nonetheless mortifying.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:39 PM

Miss Senju,

I think you might have sent me the wrong file by mistake.

While I do feel flattered by your attempt (?) at bringing light to the nuisance that is your overdo assignment, I am not quite sure if it’d be proper for your email to find me as well as you’d hoped for.

If you can, send the proper document as soon as you’re able.

Sincerely,

Kiba

Jesus almighty on a fucking cross, he’s seen it. All cute and glistening underneath the nearly see-through damp patch of your lace thongs; your bitter professor has seen your all the more sweet pussy in 4K. Bent over and yearning to be filled. At this point, you might as well begin your search for a gravestone, because you’re just about ready to dig yourself a hole and simply die in it.

But instead of doing that, you read the message again.

Flattered, he tells you. What a fucking prick, of course he’s chosen to fuck with your already crumbling sanity just for the fun of it. 

Zoning out whilst staring at the email, you can nearly taste the sarcasm dripping off of the letters in that taunting sort of way he prefers using with you every chance he gets. If you try hard enough, you can even hear him in your head – oddly enough, it fails to make you sick.

Flattered.

You should feel repulsed by the word and the way it’s used, you know that, and yet all you feel coursing your veins… is piping hot thrill.

Because whether you like it or not, whenever Mr. Inuzuka zeroes in on you during lessons, you cannot keep yourself from perking up like you’re his dog – or his bitch, so to speak. He walks over and looks down at you with those sharp, brown eyes, and fuck, it feels like a gift of sorts. One with your name on it, specifically. Pretty bow on it and everything, even though he’s fucking mean as hell.

Truth be told, you don’t just dislike it; you hate it. Hate him because of the way he chooses to treat you. 

Or do you? 

Yes, he makes you answer the silliest, most complex of questions for reasons unknown all the time, but have you ever asked yourself why he does it? Maybe him pestering you, not being fair just like the world isn’t fair, constantly drilling you to strive for higher goals and getting better grades could actually be considered… a good thing?

Because let’s be honest, professors rarely give a crap, don’t they? More often than not, their salaries just aren't high enough for them to actually care about their students and waste any more time on them than what is absolutely necessary. But Mr. Inuzuka… He clearly cares about you in his own weird, overbearingly strict way, right?

After all, when you nearly get every single one of his questions wrong  – of course you do, you’re nothing but a ditzy girl that’s constantly daydreaming about things that have nothing to do with his lessons, apparently – it makes him smile. It’s this conceited grin that shows off his pretty teeth, and that makes his face radiant. A complete change of character.

And as if that wasn’t enough already, he likes to rest both of his palms on your desk then. With no ring in sight and with eyes as dark as ever whilst they search your own, he tells you to apply yourself. Low and serious, despite the smile, which you yearn to slap off of his pretty face as soon as it appears. He looks at you almost like he pities you in a way. 

Some small, docile part of you wishes he did.

You just can’t help yourself. Because even at those times, it isn’t anger that brings your very blood to a simmer as you stare at that wretched grin that adorns his lips. No, it’s pure infatuation, no matter how harshly he drags you down with it. Right there; in front of the entire class, as well as all the super popular girls you’re low-key terrified of, with all their sneering and whispering going around.

However, all of that you can endure – to a reasonable degree, of course. Trouble starts whenever Mr. Inuzuka decides that just smiling at your incompetence simply isn’t enough. When the time comes that he chooses to kick it up a notch for whatever reason and he bullies you some more. As he leans back in his chair, leisurely crossing one ankle over the other like he owns absolutely no care in the world, and chides ever-so-sweetly, “Wrong again, Miss Senju. Like I’ve suggested before, maybe you should apply yourself if you wish to see better results.”

And yet he’s telling you he’s fucking flattered, now?!

Confusion fogging your mind, your fingers are sweat-riddled to the point of slipping off the goddamn keys as you begin to type your reply, paying no heed whatsoever at keeping the email as formal as you had done with the one before it.

[You] Thursday, 11:42 PM

mr. inuzuka, i am SO, SO, SO SORRY!!!! ik i’ve sent the wrong file, i am absolutely mortified that you had to see that. please forgive me, i swear it was an honest mistake!!!!! i really am so sorry

i’ll send the right one right away, don’t report me to the faculty or something. please please pLEASE i’m so close to graduating, oh god

Not even two full minutes later, another reply chimes in.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:44 PM

Reporting you would be utter nonsense. 

Besides, you’re an adult, are you not? 

A flash of anger rushes through you at his choice of wording, however you somehow succeed in stifling it as you type the short reply with utmost aggression. Who does he think he is, talking to you like that? You’re about to die from embarrassment, and here he is: being snarky at your expense.

[You] Thursday, 11:45 PM

yes, sir. i am indeed a functioning adult

Only semi-satisfied with your rather snippy reply, you secretly hope that he can distinguish the sarcasm amongst the intimidation that lingers in-between. Even if you’re in absolutely no position to be commanding the situation, you can at least try to touch the reins that he holds in his hands, right?

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:45 PM

Good. Please act like one, then. 

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:45 PM

If it’s not too hard of a task for you, of course. :-)

Fucker. It seems that he indeed can recognize sarcasm over text. You’d roll your eyes at the stupid emoji if you weren’t so jittery. He’s already getting on your nerves from how flustered and stressed he makes you over goddamn email.

[You] Thursday, 11:46 PM

with all due respect, professor…….. it’s pretty hard for me to remain calm and act like a ‘functioning adult’ after the picture i’ve just sent you

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:47 PM

Why so upset? It's not even that bad of a picture.

Another email immediately follows after the first one.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:48 PM

What I meant was that you shouldn’t feel embarrassed at all by the little mishap.

Of course. You haven’t even been given the chance to ask for an explanation and he’s already giving it to you.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you fail to suppress the flush of heat that blooms on your face as you reread the two messages. Telling you that your nude isn’t bad; Mr. Inuzuka cannot possibly be serious. But now that you already have him here… 

You could ask? 

Your fingers linger over the keys for a moment as you stare at the screen. It surely wouldn’t hurt. You’ve already dug a hole deep enough, what’s another inch?

Right?

[You] Thursday, 11:50 PM

am i supposed to be saying thank you for the ever so kind semi-compliment?

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:53 PM

Maybe I should be the one saying thank you instead?

Holy shit. His suddenly lewd answer sends a heatwave rushing through your chest. It aims straight down to your stomach, your very core; warms it up real nice. Are you actually reading this right?

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:54 PM

fuckk i can’t believe i actually sent that 

Ping!

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:55 PM

i’m sorry, that was terribly uncalled for. i don’t know what got into me, but i’ve had a bit to drink

Your heart hurts from how fast it’s beating now as you watch his nice and tidy spelling deteriorate with every extra email he sends you. Palms turn clammy again and digits fidgety in a way like they do during pesky finals week. The stress has gotten so bad that you even have to take a minute just to breathe, and breathe, and breathe. 

In and out, the intensity you’re using to suck air into your aching lungs makes you feel light-headed by the time you begin to type your response.

[You] Thursday, 11:58 PM

it’s okay... we’ve both made mistakes tonight.

Ping! He answers nearly in an instant.

[K.I.] Thursday, 11:59 PM

might make more if we keep talking… i should go.

He should go, it’s true. And yet the thought of ending the conversation saddens you all of a sudden. You’re not ready to let him go just yet, are you? 

Christ, what is with you? Are you that sleep-deprived that you’re willing to mess with your professor just for the fun of it?

[You] Thursday, 11:59 PM

oh…. are you sure?

It seems so.

It feels like eons are passing as you wait for Mr. Inuzuka to finish brooding and weighing his options miles away. Sitting in silence, with your face illuminated by the screen of your laptop, you can’t believe yourself. I mean, truly, what on earth has gotten into you? You’re flirting with your professor at midnight, asking him to keep chatting with you as if he’s your classmate instead of your teacher. 

It all makes you start biting your nails again; skin pulling taught with nervosity. By the time his reply finally arrives, you’ve almost ruined the pretty manicure.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:03 AM

well… would you like me to stay?

Your pulse quickens. He wants to talk to you, it’s obvious, he’s just too big of a coward to admit it. Silly man. But it’s not like you’re going to outright admit that you wish to chat with him some more, too.

[You] Friday, 12:04 AM

well, you’re actually bearable now... so i guess i can talk to you a bit more if i really have to haha?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:06 AM

you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, sweetheart. i can always go grade your assignment if you’d prefer that, just send it to me :-)

Now that makes you tingle all over, if you ignore the jab. Makes you pull your knees all the way up to your chest so that you can press your forehead against them and stifle the squeal that’s bubbling up your throat and threatening to slip past your lips, forming a risk to wake your roommates. He’s such a smartass; so insufferable, and you’re so in love with his wit and crude charm.

And you're also lucky that he can’t see you right now. That he can’t guess how much the pet name actually fazes you just because it comes from a man like him. Even the corners of your lips are twitching from the smile that keeps insisting to form as you type.

[You] Friday, 12:06 AM

no, no!!! talking to you is just fine

[K.I.] Friday, 12:07 AM

yeah? even if i use these bad boys? :-) :-) :-)

[You] Friday, 12:07 AM

sure… 

[K.I.] Friday, 12:08 AM

continuously? :-) :-)

[You] Friday, 12:08 AM

mhm

[K.I.] Friday, 12:09 AM

damn. you must really like me then, hm? ;-)

Heat crawls up your neck as you read the message one, two; three times. His little emojis are so stupid that they’re almost endearing in a way. It turns you soft – pliant like a naive teacher’s pet. You have to physically shake your head to snap out of it.

[You] Friday, 12:11 AM

i’ll like you even more if you give me a good grade on my assignment

There, that’s better. You’ve even attached the right document this time.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:12 AM

haha. do you think you deserve it?

[You] Friday, 12:13 AM

enduring your emojis like the tough bitch i am, i think i deserve the world

[K.I.] Friday, 12:14 AM

:-(  are they really that bad?

[You] Friday, 12:14 AM

i just think the lil nose makes them weird

[K.I.] Friday, 12:15 AM

well, i for one am rather fond of my nose. flatters my side profile

[You] Friday, 12:16 AM

sure, but your pretty side profile isn’t enough to convince me into liking your silly emojis, sir

Too far?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:20 AM

pretty, huh?

Seems not.

[You] Friday, 12:21 AM

that wasn’t the point and you know it

[K.I.] Friday, 12:22 AM

aha, right right. i’m sorry, sweetheart

[You] Friday, 12:23 AM

gosh, i’m surprised your head doesn’t float away with an ego that big

[K.I.] Friday, 12:25 AM

probably because i’m lucky enough to have another big thing that grounds me just as good

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. How did you get here so fast? 

Oh, right… The nude.

[You] Friday, 12:25 AM

yeah? and what exactly is this big thing of yours?

[K.I.] Friday, 12:27 AM

my brain

[You] Friday, 12:28 AM

oh wow

Oh, wow really.

[K.I.] Friday, 12:29 AM

what? did you think i was going to say something else?

[You] Friday, 12:29 AM

no, of course not!! i was just surprised you actually have a brain

[K.I.] Friday, 12:30 AM

sure you were :-)

[You] Friday, 12:31 AM

ughhhhhh……….. here you are, forcing me to see those stupid emojis again

[K.I.] Friday, 12:32 AM

B) look here’s one without a nose! lil guy has sunglasses on hehe

[You] Friday, 12:34 AM

sir, please….. this is silly. even for a millennial like u

[K.I.] Friday, 12:37 AM

well, how about you give me your number so i can call you then? that way you won’t have to see ‘em?? :-)

A smile ghosts over your lips as you read the message, pulse erratic. It’s surprising how smooth he is; circling around you so slowly that it doesn’t even feel rushed. Making you comfortable, stripping you layer by layer before going in for the kill.

Perhaps he actually does have a brain, after all.

—

Kiba can barely keep his eyes open when he arrives to work the next morning.

The poor man is still half asleep and is tired to the point it’s becoming too exhausting to even stand straight. He can feel the tightness in his shoulders when he rolls them in an attempt to release some tension that’s been building up over the course of a restless night, however the seams that hold his button up together make him halt midway as soon as they begin to protest to the sudden flex in his biceps.

He loosens a sigh. Just had to doll up, didn’t he?

It had been a mistake; looking handsome for someone who he definitely shouldn’t be trying to impress. The conversation you had with him over the phone last night hadn’t exactly crossed any boundaries, but it did leave him feeling somewhat thoughtful and lonely. 

After you had said goodnight with what he guessed was a smile on your face, he had started to feel empty inside. The line disconnected and all of a sudden he was alone with his thoughts; contemplating his life choices. Surely, he wouldn’t be having any reason to talk to you – his student – until three in the morning if he had a wife? 

Kiba had never married, after all. No, he’s all alone; still vigorous and full of life as he had been in his twenties, and is completely left to his own devices exactly like he had been during that time, too. He picks and chooses only what’s best for him. Concerns himself only with his own interests. Only thinks about himself. Some may call it a life without a sense of purpose, but he likes it just fine.

Never having kids to hold him back, he’s now slowly inching towards his mid-thirties by being the fun uncle instead of a dad. More and more of his friends are building families and settling down, and he’s just… drifting.

So, can he even be blamed for trying to woo his pretty student after seeing her equally as cute cunt? 

You’re young and soft, he wants to touch you all over. Is just thinking about letting off some steam, it’s not like it’d be anything serious. Only a quick roll around the sheets; a single night of greed you’ve certainly been hinting at over the phone, too. After all, you’ll graduate real soon and forget all about him. Will marry and have kids just like nearly every other person he knows is doing right now. So, what’s the problem?

Well, he could lose his job for starters. And you’re nearly a whole decade younger than him. He holds tremendous power over you with the position he possesses. It’d be frowned upon if anybody found out. It’s super risky. The faculty could expel you for it. His mother would beat his ass. Had he mentioned that he could very well lose his job?

But that picture… goddamn. 

He even has it saved on his phone.

Speaking of the picture, to say that he was shocked when he had opened the file the first time would have been an understatement. He had closed the thing so fast that he felt like a panicked teenager again: hearing his mother slip the keys into the front door whilst he was still looking at porn on the family computer. Pure stress.

But after a couple of quick-paced breaths, all of which had been so heavy they nearly fogged the blank screen of his computer, Kiba’s fingers found the mouse again. He’d moved the cursor slowly; cautiously. Clicked the file once more. Stared. Felt his eyelids turn heavy and his grey sweatpants strain by the time he had clicked the reply button and started typing.

Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk those two beers. Not that he was by any means drunk from them, but perhaps it would have stopped him from responding to your email the way he did. Would have stopped his hand from ever reaching the waistband of his sweats and slipping under. Would have halted all the stroking and grunting to follow right afterwards. Would have stifled the need, and wiped away the sticky mess he had spilled all over his hand and stomach by the time he had decided to start flirting with you and convince you into giving him your number because he just couldn’t get enough – not even after cumming.

Post-nut clarity, my ass.

Guilt seeps into Kiba’s chest, filling it with something gooey and disgusting as the thought of what he did crosses his mind for the hundredth time ever since yesterday; forcing him to drop his gaze in shame with a brow furrowed so tight, there’s a small ‘v’ etched right in-between. 

God-fucking-damn. It feels like everyone knows he’s jerked it to his student and came all over himself like some pathetic loser, because – by some odd miracle – a picture of her pretty pussy had somehow made its way onto his computer screen.

This is bad. So bad, in fact, that he even feels the need to place a hand over his heart, pretending that he’s whisking away imaginary dust from his fancy shirt instead of trying to tame the sudden jump in his accelerating pulse.

But speaking of the shirt, the light blue button up he’s yanked from the hanger this morning compliments his burly physique and hugs the broad span of his shoulders so tight that it’s no wonder the seams are threatening to tear. The pants he’s picked are in a colour of soft beige he usually never wears and doesn’t even remember buying. 

The combination he picked is good, but is also unlike him to pick it in the first place. He’s at least rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows as a meek attempt to feel more like himself, but it doesn’t ease the discomfort, just like the fact he’s wearing his favourite pair of shoes doesn’t.

All right, perhaps it’s not all that bad. Looking down at his outfit, the young professor has to admit he actually looks pretty decent for a change. Even a couple of his co-workers that linger in the halls flatter him as he starts heading towards the teachers’ lounge, twirling his keys around his index finger in an attempt to seem unbothered. 

Sure, the small praises are probably given only because the leather jacket he usually opts to wear is nowhere in sight, but Kiba still supposes that he understands it to some extent. He actually looks like a teacher for once instead of a burly biker. 

Still, his hair remains as wild as ever, no matter how nicely he dresses himself. The chestnut spikes stick in various directions, but are slightly droopy from his failed attempts to smooth them down. He looks like he’s been tossing and turning amongst the sheets all night instead of sleeping in them. And to be fair, he did just that… amongst other things. 

But never mind that! Besides the hair situation, Kiba also lacks a tie; the top two buttons where it should reside, already undone. He had tried putting it on, he promises that he did, but the damn thing just chokes him to oblivion and makes him want to flick it in the trash instead of tying it into a tidy knot around his neck.

Well, at least he’s tried to look presentable if anything else. Him being – sort of, kind of – dressed up to code should practically be celebrated at this point.

And yet, the reason as to why he’s done it creeps back into his mind and makes him spiral all over again. He hasn’t even reached the lounge yet and his feet are already dragging down the hall that’s filled with students whose names he can’t even recall most of the time; mind clouded with a thunderstorm so big you’d be able to see lightning flashing behind his eyes if you looked closely enough. 

Luckily for him, nobody does. He turns some heads from college girls he’s never spared a glance for; invokes a quicker heartbeat in the new substitute teacher he thinks is called Hinata H-something, but that’s it. Some of the young adults that surround him are just too busy still being half-asleep much like himself to notice their zoology professor passing by, whilst the other, more upbeat and social half is buzzing with chatter consisting of upcoming plans on how they’re going to spend their weekend. 

The fog in his head clears for the briefest second at that. 

Oh, right. It’s Friday.

He knows that he should feel chipper about the upcoming weekend, but for some reason he doesn’t. Deep down, Kiba knows it’s because he won’t see you until Tuesday, but he won’t admit that, of course. Won’t admit that he’s already formed some sort of twisted attachment to you like the sick fuck he is. Jesus, he seriously needs to get his shit together. You’re like, what, twenty? Twenty-two? He isn’t old enough to be your dad, but ten years is still… a lot.

His train of thought is broken when he bumps into somebody.

“Oops, I’m so sorry–” a voice starts.

Oh, lord.

There’s a brief beat of silence that makes blood rush into Kiba’s ears as his eyes connect with your own and he feels his pupils dilate to the point of ache from how fast they overtake his chocolate brown irises. Even his stomach twists uncomfortably at the tingling sensation your hand leaves behind when it grazes his arm in a rather foolish attempt to keep yourself steady. It makes his skin heat up underneath all the layers of clothing he’s got on, and fuck; it feels so good.

God, now that you're so close, he can tell that you smell absolutely divine. He has no clue what perfume it is that you’re wearing, he’s never really been a fan of them, really, but this one specifically makes his nostrils flare and his jaw turn slack as he turns so fucking desperate that he tries inhaling the scent through his mouth.

What an idiot. Keep yourself together, moron!

“It’s, uh, it’s fine! I’m fine.” He takes a small step back when he sees your lips begin to curl into a smile in response to the stupid expression that’s still lingering on his face. He’s wary; cautious – you’re in public and he’s your teacher. “No biggie.”  

You stare up at him, eyebrow quirking in pure puzzlement. He’s just so red now; face blooming a bashful crimson as he literally has to fight against his instincts to not stare at you for too long. He can’t stop the colour from tinting into an even deeper shade, it’s almost pathetic. And fuck, the change of tone you equip now only makes him blush even further as you say, “Well, good morning to you, too, professor.”

What the fuck? Weren’t you supposed to be the bashful one, considering that he’s your teacher and that you were the one that had sent him the picture by mistake?

The twirling of the keys Kiba holds in his hand has long since come to an abrupt stop as he swings them into his palm and holds on tight. Never mind all the pressure, he’ll sort this out like the big boy he is. He’s handled worse than cute lil’ you. 

Well, probably. He’s not so sure about that anymore, to be honest.

“Yeah, uh…” Wow. Some big boy he is; right off the start Kiba’s grip remains so tenacious that it turns his knuckles stark white, similar to those of a common coward. And as if that wasn’t bad enough already, he even has to clear his throat before he mutters back a meek, “G’mornin’.”

“Slept well?” you ask, making sure you’re quiet just enough that nobody else can hear you. The last thing you want is to scare him off.

And despite your caution, his gaze still immediately falls to the floor that had been scrubbed clean by the janitor just the previous night. “Not really,” Kiba answers, rubbing the back of his neck. The sleeve of his sky-blue shirt strains around his bicep with the action, making your eyes linger on the muscle that’s rippling underneath the cotton. God, he’s built so big and strong. So dreamy.

“Hmm?” Batting your eyelashes, you pretend to be coy just because of the flex alone. “How so, Sir?”

He swallows hard at the title; his Adam’s apple bobbing. The way he’s scratching the back of his head is so unnerving. “Well…”

“Not to be nosy, or anything,” you say, and before he can even start another sentence, you intrude with a grin, “but I can’t help but wonder what exactly was the thing that had kept you awake at night?”

Why, you little minx.

Your head tilts to the side at the timid nature he portrays all of a sudden. He’s jittery as hell, even more so when you step onto the tips of your toes to observe him even more closely. By the time you run your eyes along the sharp line of his jaw and skip over the freckles dusting the bridge of his nose, he’s feeling nauseous just from how fast his heartbeat has gotten behind that broad ribcage of his. Even a thin film of sweat covers his forehead now, making his tan skin slightly glisten under the fluorescent lights of the school.

You’re just dressed so cute, it’s no wonder he’s sweating. A short skirt that’s just up to code from how high it reaches above your knees, and a pretty blouse tucked right into it; the buttons properly done all the way up unlike his own. Looking so nice and tidy, he just wants to ruin you entirely. Especially because he now knows what’s hiding underneath the pretty skirt that you insist on flaunting around him.

Yes, he actually knows. The blood that’s previously been turning his ears hot, rushes straight below Kiba’s belt at the realization. 

And so, all of the arrogance is gone in mere seconds; the subtle disdain that he usually offers you whenever you step foot inside his classroom, nowhere to be seen now. Standing in their place are nothing but nervousness and fidgety fingers – to which you secretly offer just the tiniest fraction of your attention towards for reasons you’ll never admit to a living soul besides him – perhaps.

However, nervous or not, Mr. Inuzuka still manages to move before you can get another word in, or better yet: lean into him even further. He steps to the side in one fluid movement, causing space between you whilst giving the keys in his hand a single, nerve-wracking spin again. 

The sound of the jingle makes you want to chuckle, but you resist the temptation as you fix your bag onto your shoulder and plant your heels back onto the ground.

“Cat got your tongue, Sir?” The smile you offer makes him want to teach you a lesson. A proper one.

“See you in class,” he disregards your witty comment instead, gaze already flicking onto just about anything but you. He clears his throat again, the hand that had just been rubbing his neck, running through his chestnut hair now. Goodness, the unruly spikes look so fluffy to the touch, you wanna twirl one right around your finger. Especially as his voice softens and he says, “Try not to be late for once, yeah?”

Your smile comes off as more of a smirk than anything else, even though he can’t see it because he’s already headed towards the door leading to the place you’re not allowed to enter; is practically scurrying down the hall like a petrified little puppy despite being so fucking big. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Inuzuka.” 

Oh, fuck you, Kiba thinks as he dismisses you with a flick of the wrist. 

But goddammit, in the span of a just mere couple of seconds, he slows down as the distance between you increases. Turns his head back. As if an invisible rope is tugging him right back to you, he looks over his shoulder; looks at you. And there you are. 

Looking right back. 

—

“Kiba,” Mr. Aburame acknowledges his colleague with a subtle jerk of his chin the moment he frantically steps foot inside the teachers’ lounge. “Good morn-”

“Yeah, mornin’,” the man in question cuts in, absent-mindedly walking right past Shino as if he were a mere ghost. He doesn’t even spare him a glance, much less his signature grin. No, with his expression oddly troubled, Kiba just makes a beeline leading straight towards the coffee machine in the corner of the room, turning his back towards him in the process. 

The action could be considered rather rude – perhaps even insulting to some – however, it’s the way he looks so utterly zoned out whilst doing it that tells the entomology professor all he needs to know.

The impoliteness hadn’t been intentional at all. 

And that sparks Mr. Aburame’s attention almost immediately.

After all, Shino knows Kiba like the back of his own hand – perhaps even better than that. If the years spent working in the same building, co-existing as colleagues and later on as friends, have taught him anything, it’s that the menace that’s currently standing in the opposite corner of the room – stepping from one foot to another and looking fidgety as fuck – is quite literally his polar opposite. 

Immensely introverted and silent to a point he sometimes comes across as eerie to certain people, Shino Aburame is a man who tends to keep to himself. While Kiba thrives on chaos and mayhem, he, on the other hand, prefers logic and order.

And whilst we’re on the topic of logic, there is none whatsoever when it comes to finding an explanation for how such two different people manage to get along, nor for how exactly the dynamic proceeds to work. It’s just how things function around here; how they’ve always functioned when it comes to them.

Still, Shino remains pleased about the fact that it works, no matter that it’s unexplained and that he oftentimes comes off as aloof and uncaring when compared to his boisterous opposite. Actually, he finds it just fine. But now that the harmony has been disrupted, he finds himself feeling obligated to sort it out. So he crosses one ankle over the other and asks, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” the brunet replies with a gesture that resembles a tired wave of his hand. His response is almost automatic. It’s like he blurts it out by default as he adds, “Jus’ dandy.”

Shino quirks a brow whilst he watches him mess around with the coffee machine. The thing is brand new and still requires some learning. “You’re sure?”

Luckily for Kiba, he keeps his face hidden as he rummages through the cupboard for his mug. “Yup,” he mumbles, popping the ‘p’. Child.

“Well, all right… It’s just that you seem to be slightly off, that is all.” And that’s worry. Concern for his friend, hidden underneath a clear statement that nobody had asked for. 

The cupboard closes with a soft click. There’s a small pause before the friend in question sighs. “I’m just tired, man.”

“Because?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah,” the other professor mumbles in reply. That certainly could explain his inability to focus. But on the other hand… he seemed completely fine until stumbling into one of his students. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, now would it? “Anyway, I saw you with that Senju girl earlier... Out in the hallway.”

Thump, thump, thump. Fuck, Kiba’s heart starts to hurt immediately at that. He should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy when it comes to Shino fucking Aburame. Where the fuck had he been hiding anyway? Did he hear anything? See something?

“Yeah? Ya did?” The way the mug almost slips out of his hand at the mention of you could almost be considered comical. Kiba’s jaw clenches, making the cords in his neck turn stiff and protrude against his tan skin as he grips the handle so hard his knuckles turn white from the sudden pressure. 

He swallows audibly whilst placing it under the machine. The sound of him swallowing his own spit is the only thing that can be heard besides the brewing noises to follow soon afterwards he presses the button. It’s so quiet; just him and the stupid Megamind in the room. Kiba’s arrived early for once, after all. Nobody feels the need to be here yet. “Is that what her last name is, then?”

“Yep,” is all Shino offers, popping the ‘p’ just like he had done earlier. Kiba can’t quite tell if the action is meant to mock or to comfort him.

“Well, uh,” the poor man takes a breather, rubbing the back of his neck with one twitchy palm. “You know me… Can't even remember a student’s face, much less an entire name, hah. Especially a last name like that… ‘Senju.’ Silly last name, don’t ya think?”

“Is that so?” Shino angles his head in almost a nonchalant manner, tuning in on his sudden babbling and overexplaining. “Because it seemed to me like you knew her rather well?”

Silence. And then: beep! 

Coffee’s done, Mr. Inuzuka!

Kiba jumps at the sound, looking like he might just bounce right out of his skin. He clears his throat whilst grabbing his mug almost urgently now; as if in relief that he gets to do something with his hands, even though the ceramic mug is probably going to burn the skin right off of his fingers. 

“Well, I don’t,” he says finally, eyes insisting on steering clear from the only other person in the room. He sucks in a sharp breath through pursed lips as he sets down the mug onto the counter and shakes his hands to get rid of the heat searing his palms. “Don’t know her all that well, I-I mean.” Jesus, has the room always been this hot?

“Really? You’re sure?” Mr. Aburame repeats and blinks at the loud thud that comes from the drawer as his colleague pushes it with way too much fervour right after grabbing the teaspoon.

“Yes, Shino. I don’t know her.” Fed up. Kiba mixes the sugar into his coffee with too much force, making a couple of droplets spill over the rim and onto the counter. Not bothering to clean up the little mess properly, he just swipes his hand across it.

But his stiff posture and refusal to say more don’t stop the entomology professor from prodding further, “Well, what did you talk about for so long, then? If you don’t know her like you say you don’t, of course?”

Mr. Inuzuka shrugs. “Nothing much.”

And Mr. Aburame pushes. “Try and enlighten me, please.”

“Christ.” He scrubs a tired hand across his face; two fingers rubbing circles into his left temple as if it hurts just to think. “She just said good morning, all right? Damn… What are you breathin’ down my neck for, all of a sudden?”

“Just good morning, huh? That’s interesting.” Shino doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he doesn’t believe him. Ignoring the question, he seems utterly unconvinced.

“Why are you acting so weird about this?”

“Why? Because you’re acting weird.”

Kiba groans at the stare he feels burning into his back, but otherwise remains silent; tossing the spoon into the little dishwasher they had all pitched in for the previous year. For once in his life, he doesn’t wish to talk and elaborate any further.

And that makes the other professor hum as he feigns light amusement, even though it’s much deeper than that. Much more nerve-nibbling. 

Seconds pass and nothing but thick silence settles between the two men. Not being able to endure it any longer, there’s an agitated, “What?” that’s voiced from Kiba right before the exasperated exhale joins it soon after. Before Shino can even answer, there is yet another, “What is it, dude? Spit it out.”

“Oh, nothing,” Mr. Aburame says, shrugging him off with a wave of his hand. His voice is light as a feather, despite the depth. “It just seemed to me that the girl had a lot more to say to you than you’re willing to tell me… Other than ‘good morning’, that is. But I could be wrong, of course.” He had even put the air quotes in. Damn fucker.

Chocolate brown eyes dip down to the hot drink of similar colour. Kiba blows on the liquid, the rich smell of coffee filling his nose before he takes a small sip. It warms his insides, despite that he already feels hot all over. Great. He can’t even relax enough to consume his daily dose of caffeine now.

Brows furrowed, he places the mug back onto the counter with a frown. “Well, she didn’t.”

“Do you really–”

“For fuck’s sake,” Kiba snaps, turning and meeting Shino’s eyes for the first time ever since stepping into the room. He’s clearly riled up, judging by the sudden need to adorn every single sentence with a dirty cussword. “I fuckin’ told you; she said good morning, and that’s it. Besides, even if she didn’t, what me and her have is none of your goddamn business.”

Shino’s eyes widen slightly behind the thick spectacles he never seems to take off. If he’s shocked, he definitely doesn’t show it. Even his voice remains placid with that blunt undertone he always possesses in both classroom and hallways alike as he finally breaks the quiet to say, “You must be joking.”

“What?” The zoology professor is beet red now, the blush still subtle but persistent enough to tinge his cheeks when he turns back to fully look at his colleague.

Goddammit, you and your tight little body. You just had to doll up and look so pretty today; with your uniform extra nice and tidy, thigh-high socks a crisp white and pinching the plush fat. He just couldn’t help but steal a glance when you had passed by – act all weird about it like some stupid moron, too – and now Shino is getting suspicious. “What?”

Shino’s brows knit together as he uses his pointer finger to fix his glasses that sit on the bridge of his narrow nose. He wastes no time with dilly-dallying around the subject, but his voice does turn a smidge quieter in fear of anybody walking in as he says, “She’s your student, Kiba.”

Kiba’s expression copies the one his friend wears now. He tilts his head like a dog before crossing his arms across his chest. “I know.” All wary, his posture immediately turns defensive; spine ramrod straight. He definitely does not like this piece of knowledge. “I know that she’s my student.”

Turning even more quiet, Shino says, “Well, then you should also know that you shouldn’t have anything forming between yourself and your student.”

“We were just–”

“You were looking,” the Aburame interrupts. “At your student. You even turned your head back as she passed, I saw you do it.”

The brunet blinks in surprise. “Is it illegal to look at other people now, or somethin’?” Fuck, he can feel the tingle of the blush on his face as it deepens into a darker colour. There you are: prancing around in that little skirt again right in his mind’s eye. Not now.

Shino doesn’t miss it, Kiba can tell by the downward twitch of his lips. “When you’re looking at them like that; it sure could be, considering the position you hold.”

“Wow.” Kiba’s jaw clicks in bitter disapproval as he taps his fingers against his bicep and laughs with a huff. “I didn’t even–”

“You’re red.” Mr. Aburame cuts in again. “Your face,” he gestures over to him, “it’s completely red.”

“Well, it’s hot.” That must have been the stupidest excuse he’s ever given him, even he knows that.

The entomology professor sighs before he retaliates, “The temperature in the room is the exact same as it was a couple of minutes ago. There’s nobody here but us, and as far as I know – neither of us have touched the thermostat.”

Silence lingers between the two men yet again. It’s almost half a minute of tension before Kiba swiftly spins on his heels, aiming for the door. Listening to the sound of footsteps and the soft jingle of keys that sound out immediately after, a prominent scowl forms on his sun-kissed face. Of course Shino feels the need to follow after him. 

“Kiba, just listen–”

“Get off my back, Shino.” The demand is spoken through gritted teeth. He doesn’t even turn around as he adds, “You’re fucking insane.”

“Listen–”

“No.”

“Stop behaving like a child with your little tantrum, and just listen to me already,” Mr. Aburame hisses. “You’ll cause a scene with the way you’re acting, for crying out loud.”

Kiba shakes off the hand that Shino puts onto his shoulder as if it burns him. If they weren’t in public, he’d break his fingers one after the other, he’s positive. “I said no.”

Shino’s brow furrows. “I could report you for this, you know.”

Now that does make Kiba come to an abrupt halt. 

He stops in his tracks, turns around, and takes those couple of footsteps keeping him from Mr. Aburame like an angry bull; all until he’s close enough to be glaring up at the slightly taller man with daggers in his eyes and hushed anger on his tongue, “What the fuck are you goin’ on about?” His voice goes even lower, turns even more dangerous, “There’s nothing to report.”

“Yet.” The glare he receives in return for the statement doesn’t faze a calm and collected man like Shino. Doesn’t even make him flinch, despite that he knows Kiba’s hand is absolutely itching to grab him by the front of his tweed blazer.

And speaking of Kiba; he is at a loss for words now. His expression is blanching, skin turning pale. And yet he still somehow manages to croak out, “I thought you were my friend.”

There’s actual hurt lacing his voice.

“I am.” Mr. Aburame’s shoulders slump at the disappointment in his colleague’s voice. “This is me looking out for you as your friend, can’t you see that?”

“Yeah, right.” Kiba stares at him. Something seems to shift somewhere deep within his conscience, because now he scoffs and his eyes turn hard. “Friend, huh? As far as I know, friends don’t threaten each other like that, Shino.”

“I’m serious.” Shino’s lips are a firm, straight line of not judgment, per se, but rather concern. “I don’t care what kind of opinion you have about me right now. You’re not thinking rationally, and I could report you for it.”

“Do I ever?” There’s fire inside his eyes now; caramelized sugar that’s long since been burned by the dancing flames. “Think rationally?”

There’s a pause. And then, “No.” Hesitance.

Kiba’s scowl deepens, it sits on his face like a mask. “So, are you gonna report me, then?”

It’s a talent, really – how fast he’s able to become sturdy and protect himself just by sheer will and intimidation when the need calls for it. It’s like he uses his personality as a shield, instead of the body and strong bones that hold it together.

Transforming into an entirely different person in a blink of an eye.

The entomology professor sighs, eyes unmoving from his friend’s burning stare that just refuses to budge, now. He’s nothing like the flustered mess he had been just five minutes ago. Still pale, his eyes look slightly bigger and darker than they normally do. It’s instinct for survival that makes Kiba’s eyes so big, Shino knows. They grow even larger as long seconds drift by; each of them lasting an eternity. 

Mr. Aburame has no clue how much time has passed before he finally bows his head and says, “No. I won’t.”

And all Mr. Inuzuka replies with, is a, “Thought so.” before he taps Shino’s chest roughly and walks away.

And that’s it.

—

But the problem is that that isn’t it.

Guilt still eats away at Kiba’s morality when he looks up and finds you standing across his desk at the end of his final lesson; looking eager and surprisingly – expectant.

Shino’s words from this morning had really done it for him, he can’t lie. Ever since their little argument in the teachers’ lounge, Kiba had been doing nothing but chewing on and turning over the warnings that his friend had planted into his good for nothing brain. Comparing them, too, and tossing them to the side, just to bring them right back. 

So far, the whole situation has put him onto an emotional rollercoaster; one with hundreds upon hundreds of seemingly never-ending loops. He can’t wait to get off of it, honestly.

And as if Shino being a pain in his ass wasn’t enough already, you had also offered Kiba your fair share of things to think about. Giving him the googly eyes whenever you’d seen him roaming the halls; your smile had been riddling his troubled mind even further, making him lose that last bit of focus he had been devastatingly clinging onto for hours on end.

Far too busy forming a mental pros and cons list if he should try and chase after you or not, nearly all of Kiba’s lessons had suffered for it as a result, and had ended up becoming a complete academic disaster. At this point, all he wants to do is go home and crawl into bed.

But he can’t do that with you here, of course. 

So he stays put. Like a good boy.

“Hi there,” you chime happily when he snaps back into reality and acknowledges you. “Long time no see.”

“H-hey.” Kiba’s face blooms with colour almost immediately when his voice cracks and he stutters as a result. How many more times will he blush today, goddammit?! He forces himself to maintain eye contact with you as he clears his throat, but it’s almost exhausting to do so.

Calming down his pulse is work enough, after all. You make his heartbeat accelerate with just a mere greeting. With the way you’re standing so close to him, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could actually hear it – his heart. And speaking of close, looking up at you and all your pretty glory that’s just mere inches away now: Shino’s warnings are becoming somewhat blurry and faded.

Especially so when you press both of your palms against his desk and smile at him. Just like he has a habit of doing to you.

God, he could eat you right up because of it. You’re like a little cupcake; all sugary and nice. It’s so damn hard to not stare at the way your blouse tightens around the fat of your tits, but he tries. He really tries.

“So,” you start.

“So,” he repeats, knee bouncing without stop. So nervous.

“How are you holding up?” you ask, drumming your fingers against the desk. The sound of your nails tapping the wood makes him realize how quiet the place actually is. There’s nobody left inside the classroom but him and you. Crap. 

He almost doesn’t hear you as you add, “Still tired?”

“A bit, yeah,” he chokes out finally, voice so low you hear him only because you’re leaning in so close. “I’m gonna, uh… head home soon. To get some rest.”

He’s done for the day and so are you, it seems. It’s barely half past four, but it’s already dark out. Winter sucks, it makes Kiba miss the sun. But despite all of that, he catches himself preferring the darkness outside when you round the corner of his desk and rest your lower back against it.

“Aww… Leaving so soon, Mr. Inuzuka?” He can see the way the tops of your socks dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as you pout; you’re that close. The moment you cross one ankle over the other and sigh, he follows the movement with his eyes, not being capable enough to hide the greed anymore. Fuck, even your skirt has lifted by an inch. “I was actually hoping I’d be able to talk to you about my assignment. If you don’t mind.”

“Well, I… I guess I could stay,” Kiba finds himself saying, gaze still glued to your legs that he yearns to reach out for and touch so badly, “for a lil’ bit longer…?”

Wow, he’s way easier than you’d expected.

“Really, you would? That’d be so great,” you utter, nudging his foot with your own. The sudden contact makes him visibly flinch in his chair, causing him to push away and roll back a small distance until you have to step in front of him and catch the armrests as a means to stop him.

Staring up at you now, Kiba stills entirely. You’ve got him trapped, and his breath hitches in the back of his throat because of it. So close that he can count your eyelashes one by one if he wanted to, he feels his body turn rigid by the nearly non-existent proximity. It’s all so overwhelming: your warmth, the way you look at him, the sickeningly sweet scent of strawberries that comes from the chewing gum that’s inside your mouth. 

“Going somewhere, professor?” you ask sweetly, smiling a grin that he realizes makes his legs weak. “I thought you said you and I were gonna talk.”

“We can talk,” Kiba mutters, his throat feeling so dry and tight because your hand is slipping and is touching his thigh now, “just stop with the games. I ain’t good at playin’ them.”

“What games?” You bite the inside of your cheek, puckering your lips in a way that makes you look coy despite that your hand is literally inching higher and higher. “I’m not playing any games.”

His voice is a shaky whisper, “Stop fucking with me.”

And yours is a goddamn purr, because it’s so rewarding to see him this helpless for once; it’s an absolute treat, “But, Sir… I thought you wanted me to do just that? Didn’t you like the little picture I sent you?”

“I–...” It’s hard to be mad at you when you keep batting your eyelashes at him. As if you’re this innocent little thing that doesn’t want to be bent over. Ignoring the thought, he tries to be stern as he says, “I never said that.”

“No?” You blink, eyes glazed over and pupils big. “But you were hinting at it over the phone last night, weren’t you? After I gave you my number when you had asked for it?”

“I–... You can’t–”

“Yes, I can.”

Bullseye, you’ve shot him right through the morality with that one.

It’s hard to breathe properly at this point, the accusation you’re making against him is making his vision spin. Kiba is tugging at the collar of his shirt, lips parting as he tries to let more oxygen into his lungs and say something smart back as a means to throw you off your game. 

That pathway soon becomes useless, however, because the moment he opens his mouth, you slam your own right against it without any warning whatsoever.

And just like that, he’s done. 

The kiss sucks all the air right out of him, no matter how delicate it is at first. Wipes his mind clean, makes his eyelids flutter shut. Makes him melt into you, until he’s yours to command. And fuck, the realization of what you’re doing – kissing your professor – hits you bright and clear just as it hits him. Like you’re both sitting inside a speeding car, aiming straight towards a cliff that neither of you knows how to avoid.

The drop is going to be deadly if you reach it. And that scares the shit out you, but thrills you at the same time. So it’s no wonder that he can sense your hesitancy before the courage kicks in, your lips nudging his own until he finally opens his mouth a fraction wider so that you can slip your tongue in.

And wow, he tastes sweet. Like a goddamn blueberry muffin he’s probably had for lunch earlier. You can still taste it in your mouth by the time he cups your jaw to lightly push you back so that you can part.

“What,” you gasp softly, your Cupid’s bow touching his upper lip with every word, “don’t you want me, professor? Not even a little bit?”

“No, you don’t get it… I want–” he starts, unable to finish when you kiss him again in answer. It seems to deepen the daze he’s in, making him lose his train of thought in an instant. You’re practically digging the hole for him at this point. “Fuck, I want you, pretty girl. I mean, look at you… ‘Course I want you.”

“Yeah?” You smile again, the beam sweet as summer fruit. “How bad do you want me?”

“So bad,” Kiba mumbles in an instant, brown eyes already hazy with lust when you come closer and merely hint at kissing him again. “I wanna do such nasty things to you; fuck you stupid on the desk and all of that, but I need you to sit on my dick first, ‘kay? Think you can do that?”

Your pulse quickens at how fast his decency fades, but you force yourself to remain calm. “Even if I’m your student? You still want me to do that?”

“Yeah, yeah… C’mere, now.” It’s shameful how quick he answers. Maybe if he wasn’t as down bad as a freshman at a frat party; too busy staring up at you whilst impatiently patting his thigh and tugging at your hand, he’d actually manage to acknowledge the disdain he should be feeling for himself. “Be a good girl and sit the fuck down, will you?”

His gaze is hard when you look at him, profound impatience lacing every word. That’s the Mr. Inuzuka you know, all right. All bad and horny as hell.

It seems like Shino is bound to be disappointed after all.

Because now, things are escalating fast. You’re already crawling into your handsome professor’s lap, making him spread his legs in a way that gives him better footing so that he can keep the chair from spinning. Making him groan into your mouth as his hand rests on the side of your head; thick fingers tangling into your hair with a need to push further and gain more, more, more.

But it’s all so sweet and gentle, no matter the speed. Your mouths connect and part slowly, thin strings of saliva barely there. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and dips down to trace the curve of your hip with the tips of his fingers. Unusually cautious; he’s taking his time, trying to calm himself down during it. 

By the time he allows his hands to finally begin roaming your body, Kiba’s lips are already sticky from how much lip gloss you’ve managed to smear onto them with your own.

So keeping the steadiness in mind, poor, flustered Mr. Inuzuka starts with your thighs first. He reaches the hem of your skirt and pushes it ever so slightly up your legs before he rounds the curve and squeezes your ass instead. His hands become full immediately, and you definitely like to be groped like this; you tell him that with the way you preen and start to claw at his fancy dress shirt like you’re some desperate kitty in heat.

You’re already grinding against him, so young and demanding that he can barely keep up. Making him plead for you to do something – anything. And you may pretend that you’re calm and collected, perhaps even nonchalant, but your pussy is clenching; sopping hole fluttering around nothing. He’s pressed so tight against you after all, nudging you right between your legs – the ridge of him prominent. 

And it’s all so warm, Kiba can feel the heat right through his pants. Can feel how warm and soft your little cunt is as you press it even harder against his clothed cock and start to grind against it; dragging it up and down in these slow, salacious kind of movements that could, quite frankly, make him consider marriage at this point.

Blood rushes south at the contact, leaving his head empty aside from the overwhelming buzz that’s otherwise plaguing his mind. His dick is starting to strain his pants, and the pressure from the zipper hurts. Growing big and hard fast, the cotton of his underwear sticks to him because of the pre-cum that’s already leaking underneath.

“Fuck,” he hushes so quietly that you want to laugh, his rough palm drawing patterns over the curve of your spine. He’s a greedy man, his hands touch you all over when you hide your face into the crook of his neck and start to kiss him there, eager mouth searching for his sweetspot. 

He seems to have one everywhere – a sweetspot – as long as the kisses come from you. The little affections are even making his hair stand up; are making him bare his teeth. “You gotta–... Mmh, you gotta do something, pretty. My dick is starting to hurt, so how ‘bout you lemme shove it in that cute pussy of yours, yeah?”

“Is it, now?” Your hands grip his broad shoulders as you readjust yourself, every word resembling a soft purr. The smirk that adorns your lips the moment he stiffens underneath you touches his pulse point, now. His heartbeat is so fast that your own feels like it’s stalling behind. “Need me to make it all better? To fuck you until it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

He starts nodding vehemently when your hands land on his chest and start fiddling with the buttons instead; pushing his limits even further, making him see red. You’re holding him in the palm of your hand and he doesn’t even know it yet. No matter what framed degree he hangs on his wall, he’ll still turn dumb at the mere chance of scoring some pussy.

Your nostrils flare as you exhale through your nose in a derisive huff. “Can you ask for it nicely, maybe?”

“Please.” The word is breathless, a mere pant, but it’s blurted out quickly. He clears his throat when you raise your eyebrows; tries to hide the blush that overtakes his entire face as you wait for him to try again. “Pretty please.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You kiss him once more before ending the affection much too quickly for his liking. A lewd pop noise forms; one that usually sounds out whenever you’re finished with a sucker, not your zoology professor’s mouth. “Lemme take care of it, now.”

“Why are you– Oh.”

The small wink you offer him as you slide off of his lap and kneel right between his legs makes Kiba’s heart stammer and his chest tighten as the realization of what’s to happen sinks in. 

He takes the hint of what you’re trying to do now, and he just can’t help it, but this lewd sort of happiness overtakes him in an instant. You’re just so young; still thriving in your slut-era, which most of his ex-girlfriends had long since moved on from in search of boring routine and family-oriented weekend trips he’d much rather miss out on than attend. 

But you – you’re not even nearly there yet. No, as you kneel in front of him: clearly willing to take his dick down your throat right underneath the desk, perhaps even contemplating the chance of letting him cum all over your face at the end of it, you’re absolutely perfect. You’re a mere pet; one that loves sucking up to her teacher. Quite literally.

So he spreads his legs wider, giving you the space you need as his insides begin to twist with naughty anticipation. He’s excited; throbbing in his pants, his dick eager to meet your throat. “How come you wanna do this instead of sitting on me? Wouldn’t it be easier to just let me do all the work?”

“It’s just–...” It’s hard to hide the tremble of your fingers as you reach up to unbuckle his belt and undo the button of his pants. The nerves are finally catching up to you. “I wanna leave a good first impression.”

Kiba’s toes twitch in his shoes when you trace the ridge that pushes up as soon as the zipper is tugged all the way down, heat rushing up his thighs. The way you palm him over his boxers tells him that you’ve definitely held a cock before. Good for you, even though it’s hard to ignore the sudden flash of jealousy. What the fuck is he feeling envious for? “And why is that?” 

“Because,” you say, your shrug seemingly nonchalant, even if you’re far from it, “if I suck your cock good enough, then maybe you’ll consider giving me a decent grade on my assignment…?”

Oh.

“You’ll like me more if I do that, right?” His voice is a mere mumble now, a gentle coo, “Like you told me last night?”

“Mhmm.” His fingers graze your cheek. You can see his pupils dilate when you press your lips to one fingertip and kiss it. He’s completely red in the face again by the time you kiss another one and add, “I’ll love you for it, actually.”

“Oh, honey.” 

“Yes, baby?”

Kiba’s eyes turn soft like his heart does at that, and he needs to remind himself that you’re just using him. After all, there’s literally no way in hell that a young, pretty thing like yourself would be at all interested in loving a man that’s inching towards his mid-thirties and teaches stupid college kids for a living. And come to think of it, why should he be even thinking about a thing like that; much less stressing over it? 

Wasn’t he perfectly content being alone?

So he blinks. Snaps out of it and taps your temple twice as if he’s trying to get through to that wicked brain of yours, tone all of a sudden patronizing and complacent instead of warm, “As far as I remember, the due date was two weeks ago.”

You blink, too. Surprised. “Yes, but–”

“So, is that my problem, then? My fault?”

What? “But–”

He taps your temple again. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“No, sir.” Heat creeps up your neck at how stern he is with you all of a sudden. It seems that a switch had been flicked inside his head, you’ve said something he didn’t like. Finally gaining the self-control he’s been desperately trying to grasp for all this time, he’s back to being mean again. “It isn’t your fault.”

“The best I can give you is a D.” He pauses to look down at you. And winks.

Rolling your eyes, you puff out an exasperated exhale. “Funny.” Fucker.

“I think so, too. Now,” he says, “are you gonna take it or not?”

“I will.” You pout at the change of demeanor, digits tightening around his girth when his hand rests atop your own. He still hasn’t given any hint that he’ll give you a better grade, but he does coax you into palming him slowly now; guiding you to a steady rhythm that drags across his entire length. 

Christ, he’s so big that you can feel the pain in your throat already. It makes your mouth salivate. “Professor…”

“Mm?”

“About my grade…?”

Ouch.

“Tell you what– hah…” The chuckle that slips past his lips and interrupts him mid-sentence never seems to reach his eyes. “You look mad cute on your knees like that, so if you blow me good enough, I’ll consider raising your grade. How’s that sound?”

“I thought you wanted me to sit on your dick?” you grumble, but hook your fingers to the waistband of his boxers in silent agreement. It’s about time you face the monster cock that’s hiding underneath.

“I thought you wanted to leave a good first impression?” he quips in an instant, brain working at full capacity, now that you aren’t all lovey-dovey with him anymore and aren’t kissing him all over. The fact that he sort of wants it back makes him feel bitter inside. It’s all so fucked up and makes him all the more agitated. “Stop actin’ bratty. You’re not gonna win.”

“I liked you more when you were all red and stuttering, you know,” you manage to say before your breath hitches as you at long last tug down the waistband and get a good look at him. Your eyes look sad despite the hearts in them. “You were actually nice to me.”

His own heart stutters deep in his chest at that. It’s almost enough to break him.

Almost. But not quite enough.

“Yeah? Well, that’s just too bad now, is it?” His gaze turns heavy-lidded the moment you press a kiss right atop the vein that runs along his entire length. The skin your lips touch is silky smooth, its warmth transferring to your hand and nestling itself between your fingers. You can feel the rush of blood within – the heat makes him readjust himself on his chair as he grips the armrest tighter. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to take advantage of me, I wouldn’t be such a dick.”

“That’s rather ironic, don’t you think?” You sigh, giving him the smallest kitten lick to lap up the bead of pre-cum that’s leaking out of the head already. His teeth sink into his bottom lip at that; eyelids turning even heavier at the sensation. The salt is fast to melt on your tongue as you say, “I mean, aren’t you taking advantage of me, too?”

His hand rests on the side of your head, thumb stroking your cheekbone before he touches the corner of your lips. There’s a beat of silence – a comfortable one, despite all the words that want out. But instead of answering the question, he just says, “I don’t like being used.” 

“Me neither,” is all you reply before you open your mouth wider to take him.

It’s hard to resist a groan for Kiba when you finally start to suck. Everything hits him all at once. Your ‘o’ face is adorable. Lips plush and cheeks hollowed; throat tight. The way you twirl your tongue is skilful, clearly experienced. It drags drool all over his cock, making it even easier for him to push it deeper as you attempt to relax.

“That’s it,” he mutters, running his fingers through your hair. He pulls it back from your face, helps you out. Like a proper gentleman, even if he’s far from it. “Such a good girl... So pretty, with a mouth full of cock.”

You try to pretend you don’t drink up the praise. He pretends he doesn’t notice it.

He’s deep in your throat fast – bulging. Throbbing and twitching, you can feel every rush of blood that makes him harder, bigger. When you push your tongue out to take more inches, it makes his palm slam flat against the desk. Even his digits curl at the pleasure. Knuckles turn stark white.

The tears come forth only when he’s more than halfway down your throat, turning the whites in your eyes glassy. It’s not long before the gag follows, the first tear spilling and messing up your mascara as it slides down your cheek. He snickers at that, his lips twitching as you pull back to take a breath. There are strings of saliva connecting you to him already – thick and glimmering ropes of silver that break only when you use your hand to stroke him. 

“Pretty good,” he comments with a smile, mischief prominent in his eyes. He’s clearly over the moon, but he isn’t going to tell you that, of course.

“I know.” You gasp for air but keep the sass. One quick little breather before taking him again, you’re rubbing your cheek against his dick – nearly worshiping it. “I can take more, though.”

“Yeah?” His brow arches. His heartbeat is just about to become violently quick from how you keep petting yourself against his cock. Goddamn, who knew the younger generation was so messed up? “Gonna do a lil’ show-and-tell for me, then?” 

The moment you nod, he’s on you. With his hand on the back of your head, he pushes you further now; doesn’t exactly force you to take more, but clearly encourages it in his brutish ways. His eyes are big and dark when you look up through your blurry vision. They watch your every move, warm and rich like hot chocolate.

Christ, you’re so into this. Clearly adore sucking dick just to make men weak in the knees. The sounds of your sloppy blowjob fill the classroom, they make him only fall harder for you. But despite all of that, and how they present such a lovely contrast to the dull subject he otherwise teaches inside the space, he’s becoming worried someone might walk in and hear you.

He never locked the door, did he?

Kiba’s hand tightens its hold on the desk at the thought; blunt nails sinking deep into the wood. It’s dangerous and it might ruin his life, he knows, but you’re already here, aren’t you? Already choking on his cock, making it glimmer with your drool that’s only there because of how exquisitely sloppy you are.

So, what’s a little more risk? 

He doesn’t think anymore as he tugs on your hair and makes you moan in answer. Doesn’t ponder anymore the moment the whine slips out of your already full mouth. No, he just focuses on the shiver running down his spine, turning his mind even more blank than it already was. 

It’s such a delicate little noise – your moan. One that brings him closer to cumming in an instant, especially because you suck him in even harder now and your tits are rubbing against his thighs like you’re some deity with a whorish mouth.

No, seriously. You know how to work that mouth so well. The way you take his cock down your throat forces sweat to coat his brow. It’s all so intense; the fever in his belly rising every time you use your hand to stroke the length you can’t reach with your lips. You even cup his balls and squeeze them in a way that makes his toes curl in his shoes again. Pull your head back to drag your tongue along the side of his dick, kissing it softly before sucking it again. All of that.

He’s groaning and sweating. Manspreading and pushing back into his chair. Blushing, cursing.

So it’s no surprise how it takes him only mere minutes to cum. You don’t even have to try for long because you’re his student, his little pet that’s just too good at sucking his cock and fulfilling a fantasy he didn’t even know he had hidden somewhere deep within him. It’s all so easy.

“Jus’ a lil’-... m-more, sweetheart.” He’s panting now, holding on for dear life. “Oh, fuck yeah, mhmm.”

The thrill only shortens his line of endurance. As the bobbing of your head quickens and your throat tightens, holding him prisoner – he’s done. Your eyes squeeze shut, mascara running; drool escaping the corners of your lips as you fight back a gag from the way he hits the back of your throat. His teeth sink into the knuckles of his fist to stifle the guttural moan that’s about to leave his mouth as soon as that last twitch hits him and heat spills inside his stomach.

And then he starts to cum.

His chest is heaving during it, eyes closing the moment your own open. He’s such a gorgeous man; so handsome in the most rugged way. His jaw is clenched tight as your own turns slack from hurting so much. Chestnut hair tousled and chiseled cheeks red, you want to kiss him, no matter the thick layer of sweat on his skin. 

But you know better than to move whilst a man is cumming, it makes them too sensitive to function properly and it’d probably hurt him more than please him if you chose to suck the life out of him right in that moment. 

So you stay put. Allow the thick ropes of white to coat your tongue like a good girl, and slowly start to feel him soften in your mouth. 

His release tastes salty and slightly bitter; probably because of the beer he’s told you about drinking last night and because of all the stress he’s endured ever since. Perhaps you should treat him to a fruit salad and tell him to fucking relax when you get the chance. Perhaps.

“Hey… I’m done,” he whispers after a while, his fingers caressing your face to bring you back from your trance. The intensity you’ve made him cum with has turned his voice appealingly raspy. He’s not just done, he’s finished. Utterly spent.

You blink after staring at him for too long, eyelashes fluttering. Slackening your jaw even further, you let him pull his softening cock out of your mouth. Oops.

Kiba sighs, gaze almost droopy as he reaches to take care of the single droplet of cum leaking out the sensitive head. He’s still half-hard, still so hung even though he’s spilled everything he’s had. But you lean in before he can. Help him by cleaning up the droplet by dragging your tongue across it instead. 

And that turns him wide-eyed, makes his upper lip quiver with a subtle hiss as you continue to tidy him up all nice and neat, and keep doing so until all he has left to do is zip up his pants and fix the button. You don’t miss the lovestruck expression adorning his face now. He’s infatuated. So easy.

But so are you.

Silence lingers as you stare at each other; him in his chair, you on your knees. Chests rising and falling in nearly the same rhythm but not quite.

He offers you his hand after a moment of thought. “Will a B suffice?”

You take it in a heartbeat. It’s much bigger than yours. So warm that it makes you burn from within as he pulls you up, fingers long and thick to touch your own. “I don’t care about the grade anymore, professor.”

“No?” He finds it hard to hide a smile as you sit onto his lap and fix his collar. “How come?”

“It’s like you said,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. 

“You don’t like being used.”

—

The next few weeks to follow are interesting, to say the least.

You haven’t done anything else with Professor Inuzuka ever since that Friday in his classroom. Excluding the couple of kisses you’ve shared, he’s left you feeling utterly confused after parting that same evening; has sparked something you don’t particularly understand, and has jumbled your heartstrings into a messy knot that closely resembles the old headphones you had kept inside your pocket before switching to AirPods. 

And besides leaving you puzzled, your growing feelings for him had also been the sole reason why you’d chosen not to take advantage of him and his position.

Somewhere in-between, you had just realized that you were on your knees – sucking his dick, not because you had to, but because you wanted to. Wanted him. 

And whilst your decision had been rather sweet, he’d still chosen to take pity on you by grading your assignment through rose-coloured spectacles first thing Monday morning. 

C+, with a little note of encouragement attached. Way more than you’d expected to get from him, to be honest. It seems that your blowjob really was superb.

But even after getting the grade, you still continue to talk to him. Usually over the phone, all of your conversations are kept on the down low as a precaution to not attract any unnecessary attention. After all, he’s told you all about Mr. Aburame and his suspicions, which certainly explains why the man has been patrolling and swooping above you like a hawk whenever you sit in his entomology class whilst Kiba attempts to fix his friendship with him. It just makes you all the more careful.

Speaking of Kiba, you exchange brief glances with him whenever you pass by each other in the halls. It’s almost invisible – the look – but you catch the meek twitch of one corner of his mouth whenever you smile and say good morning. He always just nods his head in reply. It’s become quite the routine.

And it’s all so discreet, too: the subtle way his eyes follow you, the mere brush of his arm against your own before the second of contact passes and it’s all over as quickly as it started. And that’s pretty much it.

Because unlike yourself, Kiba holds back. Like, really holds back. He’s still trying to figure out what he wants; if he’s ready to commit. So he merely dips his toes in the water occasionally, and doesn’t give you special treatment of any kind – not even in his classroom. 

He doesn’t hug you or kiss you. Doesn’t text you good morning and good night. You take the same exams as everyone else, complete the same assignments and study for the same final. 

But sometimes – rarely – he softens. Allows himself the pleasure of something more. Like right now – indulging in a completely spontaneous study session, for example. One that’s held at his apartment, the only person he’s teaching being you. 

How fun.

“Ugh… I’m not quite getting this, Si– Kiba.” Saying his first name so casually, without any title whatsoever, still feels weird. He had insisted that you use it whenever you’re alone, but to remain wary when you’re in public because of obvious reasons. After testing it out for a couple of weeks or so, you suppose that you’ll stop mixing it up with ‘Sir’ eventually.

The small chuckle he lets out right after your whiny sentence immediately brushes the nape of your neck. You’re sitting on his bed, staring at the screen of your laptop that you’d brought with you, with your back propped against his chest. It’s all so comfortable and cozy that you could fall right asleep if you didn’t have something else already riddling your mind.

Something rather nasty and naughty.

Because with each passing minute, you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, as well as the way how it grows faster whenever you move; how it spikes when you touch him. Despite the white cotton t-shirt he has on, his skin is warm and smells like coconut. He’s all fresh and tidy, like he’s showered just before you got here.

And does that mean something? Sadly, you can’t tell when it comes to him. He’s one confusing man, constantly refusing to let you into his fickle mind.

“You wanna take a lil’ break?” The light kiss he presses to your neck all of a sudden yanks you from your thoughts. He’s so cautious all the time, but seems to be more willing to give affection in the safety of his home. It makes you all the more eager to accept it, especially as the tip of his nose brushes your jawline and he says, “It’ll probably help you focus later on.”

“Yes, please,” you chime, despite that you can’t focus at all. Not when his mouth is this close to your pulse point, at least. “A break sounds so nice, actually.” Goodness, your tone is so sugary that you might just give yourself a toothache. 

“We can watch a movie if you’d like?” he says as he begins to pull back, thoughts innocent for a change. “‘Cause I think I’ve still got–”

“How about we stay like this for a while instead…?” Fingers tangling into his hair, you bring him right back. Make his mouth linger in the very same spot he had been accommodating before. “Pretty please, hmm?”

He stiffens underneath you in an instant, you swear that you can feel the tension that overtakes him so fucking fast. Even more so as you run your fingers through the brown locks and tug, twirling one right around your finger like you’ve always wanted to do.

“Well, I, uh–” He stumbles now, his breath shaky before he swallows hard. “I suppose that we can?”

“Yay, great!” Your tiny cheer is hushed. The room has become so dark, shadows dance across the walls of his bedroom that you haven’t gotten the chance to look at more clearly. It’s almost six already. Winter really is fast to push away the sun, and you hate walking in the dark, but maybe you can convince him to let you stay the night if you play your cards right.

“So…” He’s so quiet as he asks, “What do you wanna do, then?”

“Well…” And you’re so confident as you reply, “I think you know.”

“Do I?”

“Mhmm.”

Silence.

“You want me to…?” He stops immediately, unable to finish the sentence. It’s so cute how awkward he gets whenever you obtain the dominant role. It might be the risk of losing the way he lives his life. Might be the pride. You suppose you’ll never know.

“Yeah,” you finish for him simply.

Silence falls between you again as he thinks. Eons pass and you hear his breathing quicken with each one. His voice is deeper than it normally is as he suddenly says, “Shut the laptop, then.”

You do as he asks without another word, of course you do. You even shove the device onto the edge of the bed with the help of your foot to gain more room. 

The darkness to fall upon the space gradually eases Kiba’s worries as he lets his eyes get used to the shadows. They make him more comfortable because the shame isn’t as visible when they’re near. Especially as your hand lands atop of his own and guides it right between your legs so effortlessly that he knows you’ve pulled the same trick on someone else before. 

But it doesn't matter. He’s too busy purring, because the other one continuously strokes his cheek, your fingers pricked by the stubble to scrape the skin. It’s as if you’re urging him on. Coaxing him to succumb. Maybe it isn’t his fault, but yours.

Still, he doesn’t dare say anything. Just stares straight ahead, eyes focused on the window across the room as he starts to stroke your thighs; nice and slow. He does it for several minutes, easing his touch closer and closer to the center. Traces it ever so gently and hears you fight back a curse. 

He traces the waistband of your cute leggings, then. Glides one finger along the edge and listens to your breathing stagger when his hand finally slips underneath them and your equally as cute underwear. 

And fuck, your little cunt is so fucking soft. Sticky and warm right at the first touch, it’s delightful. The little button of nerves he presses his finger against the moment he finds it makes you squirm instantly. He applies pressure steadily, experience telling him it’s better this way instead of going all in at once. So he circles slowly, parts your gooey pussy lips even slower. Gathers the wetness and feels your back arch against him in answer.

Your Cupid’s bow twitches when his other hand sneaks up to your tits without any warning whatsoever, making its way right underneath your t-shirt. He pinches your nipple between two rough fingertips and circles your clit at the same time. It makes you burn from within as your head falls back against his shoulder.

The flames grow bigger and hotter when he hunches slightly to kiss your neck, then. Chestnut hair tickles your cheek as he opens his mouth by a fraction and latches it to your throat; the scent of coconut overriding your senses fast. His tongue is warm as it twirls across the tendon on your neck repeatedly, preparing the terrain for his teeth, which he sinks into you when you least expect it. 

When both of his incisors strike home, you flutter your eyelids shut despite the darkness. The sensation turns your vision violet, with dots of dark blue.

The way he places a hickey onto your skin should bother you, but it doesn’t. Who cares if your friends will bombard you with questions later, all that matters right now is that it feels good. That he’s making you feel good.

Especially as his fingers reach even lower and he slowly eases two of them inside your sticky hole that craves all of his attention. Slick covering every inch of those two digits, he pushes them in right to the knuckle in a series of steady pumps that make your legs quiver and your knees want to meet.

Not once does he let you squeeze your legs shut, however. The way you try and fight against him arouses him so much that you can feel the hardness pressing against your lower back. He’s already beginning to get big – is beginning to yearn.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You finally let a moan slip after nearly fifteen minutes of sweet torture. This little mewl that makes his ears perk. That makes his cock semi-hard. “Ki–”

“Shh. Stay still,” he hushes as his other hand lands on your stomach. “I got you.”

But you aren’t listening. Making him stop just long enough so you can pull your leggings and panties down your legs in one go, you’re throwing your clothes onto the floor with one careless swing of hand. And before he can even say anything, before he can even do anything; you’re turning around and pushing against him. Crawling right on top of him.

He laughs quietly as his head hits the pillow, looking up at you with rather giddy eyes. “Somebody’s impatient, huh?”

“Shut up,” you utter before you fumble with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Been waiting for this for weeks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” 

He only snickers in answer as you pull his cock out and begin to palm it desperately. You’ve even come to such a point that you spit onto your hand just so the drool can help you out when it comes to taking him faster; you just need him that bad. The final rush of blood to get him ready cannot come soon enough, but when it does at long last, he’s sweating and grunting – begging you to sit on him.

And despite the begging, he’s acquired that signature spark in those warm brown eyes of his by the time you finally straddle his hips and align yourself with his leaking cockhead. They burn bright – all mischievous and playful, and so fucking youthful at the face you make when you feel the stretch and still proceed to sit down on his dick like the good student you are.

You take him slowly. Inch by inch, but he’s so big that it hurts nonetheless.

His hands find your hips, one reaching up quickly to caress that same face and push back the strand of hair that obscures it. His pupils are humongous when you make eye contact, it’s ridiculous, and his voice is a mere grunt as he says, “Good lord, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“I know,” you mumble, brow furrowed in the same focused manner his own dips into. You can smell yourself on his fingers. The scent only spurs you on. “Sure took y-you long enough to realize that.”

“I didn’t wanna lead you on,” he explains, panting. “Didn’t want ya to think I was using you, just because I didn’t make up my mind yet… Especially ‘cause you didn’t wanna do it either.”

“That’s sweet and all,” you reply, his words secretly making your pulse quicken, “but you have no clue how badly I’ve wanted your dick inside me. You’ve literally left me hanging for weeks. Get that through your thick skull, will you?”

“I’m sorry.” He snickers, the laugh soft and light. Like wind chimes. “Truly this time.”

A shiver rushes down your spine at the sound; at the feeling of warmth settling inside your belly. He’s so big inside you that it’s hard to stay still. It makes you all the more wet, causes the inner side of your thighs to glisten with transparent slick. “You better be.”

“Trust me.” He looks up at you as he speaks further, “I am. If I knew you wanted me that bad, I would have fucked you silly on the desk I grade papers on, like I told you back then.”

“I’ll take that as a promise. You owe me.” You roll your eyes at the sudden flash of ego whilst your fingers curl around the hem of your top and you pull it over your head. Fully bare and exposed, you finally feel free; skin burning hot to the touch no matter that there’s nothing to cover it anymore.

Fingers stroking your sides, Kiba’s gaze turns soft immediately at the sight of you. He seems to be struggling to find the right words, but nevertheless gathers the courage to say, “You look lovely.”

Your voice is as warm as his eyes, now, “Really?”

“Mhmm.” His eyelids grow heavy all over again. “Pretty.”

“How about now?” Poor man, he looks like he’s losing brain cells just because of getting some pussy. Especially as you lift your hips just by a few measly inches and slam them back down just as slowly. The squelch that sounds out makes both of your faces heat up instantly. “Am I still lovely?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters and hates himself for it. Fingers twitch, pores ooze sweat. He hasn’t felt this nervous fucking a woman ever since he was nineteen. 

And while that may have been a long time ago – ages, actually – he can still compete with your peers, right? He’s still just as vigorous and full of stamina as them, right? He just needs to take it easy. To really concentrate. He’s not that old yet, he can do this, goddammit!

“Yeah?” You push him further, palms resting on his chest until his shirt is starting to crinkle underneath them. “You like seeing me sitting on your cock like this, handsome?”

Oh, Jesus motherfucking Christ–

He nods, his expression almost pained when you repeat the exact same movement. Couple inches out, then slamming back down onto them, right to the hilt. Until your clit kisses the dark hair he’s trimmed just for you. Until he’s near your cervix and feels so fucking snug beside it.

“You’re so fucking big, Kiba,” you pant, smiling. “Your cock feels–… Feels s’good inside me.”

God, you’re one nasty girl, aren’t you? Always teasing and provoking him. Making his eyes look at the place where you connect, and then smirking when you catch him ogling.

“Fuck me,” he breathes.

“I am, baby,” you reply.

“No,” he says, trying to focus, focus, focus. His hands find your hips again, one immediately slipping onto the curve of your ass to squeeze it. “Ride it, princess. Need you to move.”

Oh?

There’s a look of determination in his eye that wasn’t there before as he looks up at you and narrows his gaze. He’s so red again, it’s stupid how red he gets all the time, but you oblige by quickening your pace in a way that makes him sigh in delight.

His hand moves by its own accord. He traces your hip, rounds the curve. Glides across your soft stomach, inching up between your tits. Stops to feel your heartbeat before reaching even higher. All until he’s got it wrapped around your throat; squeezing just enough to hear you gasp.

Still completely dressed, he’s so sweaty that your fingers practically slide across his abs when you push his shirt upwards in response to him choking you. Your nails drag across the skin and firm muscle; making him hiss through gritted teeth. It hurts, but it’s not nearly enough to make him relent.

After all, the way you try to gather air into your lungs whilst bouncing on his cock is just so nice to watch. It’s all so unhurried and relaxed. Kinky. You’re so wet, he can hear it. Strings of silvery arousal that bridge the narrow gap between his cock and your cunt. He’s never had a girl this delirious before, never had the pleasure to see someone melt for him as intensely as you do right now.

You truly have been waiting for him to come around. 

With the thought still in mind, his fingers move from your throat and tangle into your hair as he pulls you closer. Your chest collides with his own; teeth clash in a messy series of kisses he initiates first. You’re both sucking on each other’s tongues, exchanging saliva and moaning into each other’s mouths when you feel him bend his knees and get ready.

“Ki–” You moan, the high-pitched squeal breaking your voice. “Ki–ba.”

“Mhmm, yeah,” he hums, eyes glazed over, mind blank. “Pretty name your professor’s got, huh? You like saying it while bouncing on his cock?”

You nod frantically, like a little bimbo. Like a good student – a teacher’s pet. Even if you wanted to answer, nothing but quiet whimpers and slutty moans manage to escape your mouth. It brings a crooked grin forth – one you’ve never seen before. It’s almost boyish.

Meanwhile, Kiba doesn’t seem to mind your inability to answer him properly. Not when he presses his lips into a firm line of concentration and starts to buck his hips upward, meeting your own halfway. Doing his fair share. Helping you out.

The first thrust makes your mouth form a tiny ‘o’ he’s already seen before. The second makes your eyelids flutter, threatening to become squeezed shut. By the third, you’re gasping and begging him for something neither of you knows what it is.

“Goddamn, you– Hah...” 

A droplet of sweat trickles down his temple at how hard he tries to keep himself in check. At how intensely he’s focusing. It’s enough to make his teeth hurt from how hard he’s gritting them. But god-fucking-damn it, the friction is wonderful. Young pussy, just for him.

And he, well, he obliterates it. Straight up ruins your tight little cunt. He lacks speed and stamina, sure, but he possesses enough raw power to bully your womb into fucking shambles just the same; even better than that. He screws you dumb, splits you in half from how deep he reaches and how harshly he makes you sink right back.

He manages to make you cum once, and almost breaks his endurance with it, too. You just get so tight when you become undone, after all; clench around his dick and suck him right in, so persistent to milk him dry. But he saves himself. Clenches his jaw again, and stills for long enough to take a breather and to calm down enough to keep on going.

But yes, even with the little breaks, he absolutely wrecks you again the moment you give him the okay to do so. He overstimulates you by rubbing tight little circles into your clit, until you’re gushing and purring for the second time around; eyes crossing and mouth drooling.

He’s doing so good. It’s a little over thirty minutes as he reaches the point of no return and can’t possibly last any longer. Thirty fucking minutes of brutal rawdogging that makes you cum once more – bullied pussy trying to milk him all over again.

“Pill?” He’s panting so hard that he can barely say the word.

You’re not doing any better, nearly wheezing, fighting for air as you reply, “Implant.”

“Good girl,” he praises, pressing you so tight against him that you can’t possibly suck a breath in. “Gonna fill you up, then… Nice and full.”

You laugh, all breathless and exhausted. “When?”

“Mm, now.”

Kiba doesn’t lie. A couple of more thrusts that are so fast and brutal that they have you spilling tears, and he really does fill you up all nice and full. Paints your velvety walls entirely white; sticks his seed so far into you that it coats your cervix and almost surely floods your womb.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He squeezes his eyes shut; furrows his brow so hard that it makes his head hurt. He can even feel the end of one eyebrow twitch because of it. 

It doesn’t stop even as he calms down enough to listen to your erratic breaths that you puff out right into the crook of his neck.

“Sweetheart.” His arms release the death grip he’s held your smaller frame in until this very moment, before he cautiously runs his broad hand along your spine. You’re sweating just as much as him, he can feel the salt lingering on your skin. Christ, he really must have worked you up, huh? “You okay?”

“Mhmmm.” You’re still so high from everything that the expression you give him is comically dazed. Your head feels so heavy, you can barely keep it up from his chest. “Dandy, baby… Jus’ dandy.”

He snorts, trying to stifle his laughter immediately.

“Whaaat?” You pout when he chuckles again. “What is it, hmm?”

“Nothin’,” he mutters, lips twitching into a lazy grin. “You’re just so fucking cute, goddammit, ahh… Just wanna squeeze you to death.”

“That isn’t gonna work, you know,” you whisper, despite that you feel heat searing your face at the compliment. “One little praise isn’t gonna make me fuck you again… ‘M too tired.”

“Mm… How ‘bout a lil’ kiss, then?” He can’t believe how soft he’s become so quickly.

“Just one?”

“I can do more.”

“Hmm…” Your eyes narrow. “Alrighty then.” You can’t believe it either.

Kiba holds your face with both hands when you lean down to press your lips against his own. It’s a soft kiss. Sweet and tender, like a marshmallow roasted on a stick; all gooey inside. Promising something that could hurt you if you’re too eager to taste it before it cools off, but also offering something that can satisfy you just as well if you just take your time with it.

And speaking of hurting you; he’s bound to do it. Whatever you have right now won’t work out, it can’t possibly work out. This kind of relationship just isn’t done this way. He’s a teacher and you’re his student. And besides, he’s been alone for so long... He’ll never be able to partake in the role and fill the part you want him to play.

Or maybe, he just needs time. To get to know you, to adjust. Maybe you just need to graduate. Maybe going on a couple of dates isn't such a bad idea, because it doesn’t mean that he’s expected to settle, necessarily. Maybe you can take it slow. Make him drift, instead of sink right into it.

It’s the reason why he says, “I wanna take you out when you’re done with school. Like a real, proper date... If you’d be cool with that.”

“Why, your heart’s running away with your head, mister,” you tease, wiggling your brows when you both feel content to speak again. “What ever happened to staying away from me?”

“Well, you know what they say,” Kiba sighs, pulling you in for another tender kiss. Everything feels so intimate and warm – he’s going to burst from how good you feel.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

tags: @mrs-bakashi

[welkinsky]

Hi!

i was wondering could you do a Kiba x reader, were the reader gets hurt and what he would do? Pleas and thanks ❤

and i love your work by the way it is so simple and sweet

Kiba X Reader | Reader Gets Injured

Kiba was not the one to show you directly that he was into you. Everyone talked about it. They teased him too but he never directly said it. 

Initially, even you had feelings for him but seeing how he constantly denies it? It made you back down from the thought of ever being with him.

But one thing that you just can't shrug off is how he always tries to boost himself and show off whenever you're around. You were smart enough to pick that at the very least. But if he DID like you, why was he not doing anything about it then? 

You left it up to him to decide, you were not the one to entertain the hot and cold behavior. You've dealt with this in the past and you knew it brings no good. It just shows how unsure the person is.

You were way above average in the class too so it's not like you had a lack of options out there but always cursed yourself when you found daydreaming about the man who was so unsure about you.

You were assigned a tough mission and before going you just wanted your answers once and for all. You tried to make him jealous by talking to other guys around him, didn't work. So you kinda gave up and headed in the mission with a clear head but sadly a broken heart.

Which almost cost you your life since now you were held captive by the goons who crossed paths by mistake. These people were sure way out of your league and you needed backup.

Sure you could take a few of them down but you were outnumbered and tired. Every now and then one of them would come and check on you it's been 2 days and not even one time the same guy came so you could only imagine how many of them were out there.

You were refusing your food, lord knows what they might have mixed in it. But lack of food and chakra caught onto you and you fainted. You woke up to loud noises from outside the cave where they kept you. But then a familiar voice called your name, "Hey Y/N. Wake up! Are you okay?" It was Hina, her voice as soft and soothing as ever.

You nodded and tried standing up but you were too weak, so she helped you as you walked out. You saw something that you never really thought was possible.

Kiba has gone crazy. You've never felt this strong chakra from him. He was far but you could hear, "How dare you lay a hand on her?!" as he attacked one of the goons.

"He's gone ruckus ever since your news came in," Hinata said from behind as she helped you to a safe place.

Later once you were back in the village you were up from being unconscious you were sitting by the window in your bed and looking out. Thinking of all the things that happened. Thinking about the look on his face. Hina and Ino were sitting on the other side of the room discussing something.

Then the door opened and HE walked in. You two didn't leave eye contact for a second. Your eyes clearly said, "Why can't you just admit it?" and his eyes were blank as he came straight to you and kissed you.

You were too stunned to speak but you gave in. You never realized when the two girls excused themselves. "Why-" you tried talking but he cut you off. "You're way out of my league Y/N. Many other capable guys can be a better man to you than I can ever be?"

"Yes but none of them came for me." You said sternly. "How do you think you're any inferior to them when you have a heart like that? What if I say that I don't give a damn about them but you."

You can see surprise clear on his face. "You're not saying what I think you're saying are you?"

"Yes, I do love you damn it! But you still haven't answered my question." your voice was assertive now. "I am scared that I won't be enough." He said lowly.

That broke your heart. A man like this who loves his comrades with all he has thinks he's not good enough. Tears started rolling down your eyes once you understood why he was being hot and cold. And here you thought that he had commitment issues or something.

You two sat down and cleared everything out. Once you two were together sure he felt inferior at times but you made it a rule to reassure him that very instant.

Thanks For Reading and for the ask too <3

Naruto Shippuden Masterlist

If you liked it you can check out the masterlist too!

Asks are still open if you have any other ideas as well ;)

[saigethearies]

Help me babe. I’m having a rare Kiba moment. Ur the innocent nerd girl who has to tutor badboy!Kiba…. imagine how he’d act one day when you have to tutor someone new and he gets so jealous… so before his big game he… he-

“i’m having a rare kiba moment” 😭 pls

ANYWAYS CHERRY AHSHAHA

badboy!kiba…getting jealous??

bye I’m gonna pass out, anyways thots below the cut

minors dni | mentions of daddy kink and violence

he’s not used to sharing you, like at all.

many people on campus gloss over you, not because you’re unattractive, goodness no! more because you’re on the quieter side, not saying much, preferring to blend into the background and just focus on your studies.

but kiba didn’t.

he was intrigued by the quiet, studious girl in his biology lecture that sat a few rows in front of him. so pretty and polite, ever the kind one to him despite his reputation as a total delinquent.

it wasn’t long before he convinced you to help tutor him. while your influence did actually improve his grades some, there was more than just homework getting done at these study sessions.

light jokes turned into fleeting glances, which turned into wandering hands, which turned into you panting and whining and whispering, “more, kiba, more please.”

it wasn’t even that he was chasing your cherry, either. kiba had genuinely took a liking to the cute little nerd from his class. all the girls he used to hit up for hookups were swiftly unadded from his snapchat, the only pussy he wanted pet now being yours.

and when you finally stared up at him with your bright doe eyes and heated cheeks, asking- no, begging- for him to finally take your innocence, he had to pinch himself.

it’s yours, kiba, all yours. please take it, i need you.

in the brunette’s eyes, you were undoubtedly his.

unfortunately, not everyone had gotten the memo.

“who the actual fuck is oikawa,” kiba barked as he looked at the notification displayed on your phone screen.

you lifted your head off his bare chest, holding the sheets to yours as you also checked your cell. “oh, that’s a guy from my english class.”

“why is he texting you asking when you want to meet up?”

“because he needs my help with a paper or else he fails our class.”

the green monster began to swirl in kiba’s gut immediately. you were going to tutor someone else?

considering the person you usually tutor (him) now fucks you into their mattress on a regular basis, kiba did not like the idea of you assisting someone else. at all. this dumb oikawa guy could eat shit for all he cares, he didn’t want this guy to be anywhere near you.

he knew he couldn’t talk you out of it (kiba loved how sweet of a girl you were but hated it at the same time) so he opted to sulk for the rest of the week instead, taking his frustration out on the lacrosse field and in a few fights here at there.

it was the day of a big game when you met him outside of the men’s locker room, a frown on your face. “why am i hearing that you’ve beat up three different people this week?”

“damn, rumor mill running wild.”

“one of them lives down the hall from me, kiba, and i can see his black eye.”

the inuzka scoffed. “thought you would be too busy with your other little boytoy to notice what the hell i’m doing.”

“would you stop with the petty jealousy!”

you had closed the distance between the two of you amidst your little outburst, and the close proximity combined with the angry energy between the two of you had kiba’s cock twitching in his shorts.

five minutes later, you found yourself pressed against a locker in the empty room, kiba biting along your throat as he ground his pelvis against yours.

the friction felt so good, especially when the tip of his hard cock would bump your clit through the layers of clothing.

you mewled out, tangling your fingers into his wild brown hair as he continued to dry hump you, sucking hickies into your skin.

“kiba-“

“wrong name.”

you gulped, still a little shy about the most recent fantasy you unveiled to him.

“daddy, i need you.”

“oh, do you, now? has shittykawa not been fucking you well enough?”

“i’ve never let him touch me, i’m yours only, daddy, i promise!”

kiba reached under your skirt, pushing your panties to the side and thrusting two fingers into your pussy. “yeah? say it again.”

“i’m yours, only yours!”

“good girl,” the brunette praised, drinking in your little moans as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

as he rid himself of his shorts, it occurred to kiba that you saying “i’ve never let him touch me”’ meant that the idiot oikawa has definitely tried something on you.

he’d beat the volleyball playing dickwad later, though, for as he pushed inside of you and got to hear your sigh of “thank you, daddy, feels so good”, kiba figured he had much more important matters to tend to at the moment <3