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silentexplorer18 · 2 years

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Heaven: A Kiba Inuzuka Short

Summary: Kiba's life sucks. He doesn't wanna deal with shit. Everything that could go wrong has, and nobody fuckin' cares. Well, maybe not nobody...

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ Modern College AU; Alcohol and Substance use; Alcohol and Substance Abuse; rehab; inaccurate portrayals of alcohol use, drug use, and rehab; Death of a family member; pet death; lots of cursing.

Word Count: 3,600+

Note: Definitely feeling Dog Sees God vibes from this.

Read on AO3 ▪ Masterlist

Kiba swallows his third shot of Jägermeister of the night and reaches for one of the weed-laced blondies waiting for him on the kitchen counter. It’s been a few weeks since he’s been to a party like this, and he’s not complaining about the host’s alcohol choices. The rum he’d been sipping through most of the evening was good. It settled warm in his gut and swept him down the river of relaxation faster than anything else he’d tried this week. The Jäger, though, that’s where it’s at. Even the blondies are nice. A little too burnt around the edges, but nice.

He’d probably eat anything that wasn’t nailed down, but, damn, if he doesn’t like something sweet when he’s tipsy. Not that he’s tipsy, though; he passed that stage two hours ago and kept at it. It felt better that way. Easier.

But the party’s starting to be too much for his tastes. The adrenaline for the night has wound down, and he knows the blondies will only mellow him out further, so he takes an extra for the road, fills a spare solo cup, and sets off on his walk home.

Home. It’s such a weird fuckin’ word. The rental he’s been staying at with Shino and Sasuke isn’t much of a home. It’s fine, he guesses, for all intents and purposes. It’s a roof and a bed. They keep to themselves as much as possible, which is fine, too, but on nights like tonight, he kind of wishes his roommates were willing to be a little more invested.

He’s tired. His dog died. He’s been through hell and back the last few months after moving out and losing his ROTC scholarship by engaging in habits otherwise unbecoming of a member of the United States military. He’d only come to training stoned a few times right after Akamaru—

It’s not like he’d shown up fucked on a day he had to wield a gun or something. Still was enough, though. They’d kicked him out without remorse.

And he… Well, he doesn’t really know what to fuckin’ do now. He’s taking a few undergrad classes while he figures out his new change in career paths. Not that he was particularly dazzled by the military anyway; scholarships come in handy when you have an older sibling.

But now he has to figure shit out again. And he’s staying in a crummy fuckin’ rental with people he’s not even close to. There’s nothing redeeming in his life. Well, except for his girlfriend. She’s pretty redeeming. And just pretty—

He should call her.

It’s hard because his vision is blurry, but Siri can figure out what he’s saying. His grin turns dopey as the screen starts ringing, and he decides to take a little break next to the big oak tree on Garrison Avenue.

“Hey, Kiba! What’s up?” Her voice is warm and bubbly and sweet. There’s shitty disco music in the background and giggles, which means she’s probably having a girls night with a few of her roommates. They bake things sometimes. Not the kind of baked goods Kiba’s found himself accustomed to in the last eight-and-a-half months, but that’s okay. She’s like the light to his dark. The sunshine to his storm cloud. It’s amazing.

“Nuthin’ much, babe. Jus’ out for a walk and thought I’d say hi.” He hopes she can hear the smirk in his voice, hopes she can get the message he fuckin’ loves her—

“Kiba?” her voice is so soft, tender as an eggshell. “Are you drunk again?”

She doesn’t like it when he drinks.

“M’cello was throwin’ a party,” he mumbles in return. “Woulda been rude t’ not show up.”

“Where are you?”

“Uh,” he frowns. “The big tree?”

Luckily, he’s been here more than a few times, and this is one of the few places she could find in her sleep. Because of him.

“Shit, that’s so far from your house! I’ll be there soon, okay?”

His girlfriend: the fuckin’ godsend.

While he’s waiting, he finishes the last blondie and washes it down with a couple sips of rum.

Wasted. It’s such a shitty word for something that’s supposed to feel so good.

They said the high would let him see heaven, but he hasn’t gotten there yet, so he keeps trying. He thinks it’s the only time he’ll get to experience it, so he may as well try. He’s struggling. His life sucks. There’s no way he gets the real deal in the afterlife. Finding the pseudo-version on Earth will have to do.

God, he wants it so bad. He wants his life to be less shitty. He wants to taste heaven. He wants everything to stop fuckin’ hurting. Life isn’t supposed to be this hard.

She shows up in a beat up truck that definitely belongs to Ino Yamanaka. He tries to make a joke about car theft, but it’s interrupted when she grabs the solo cup from his hand and dumps it on the sidewalk.

The drive home is quiet aside from the radio. He tries to compliment her—she’s wearing her hair real cute—but she’s alarmingly unaffected by his praise.

Maybe he should invite her inside. Offer to pay her back for the drive. Even drunk, his hands still work wonders.

He reaches for her with a smile, standing in front of the porch with the peeling paint. Her hands are on his shoulders, but she isn’t smiling back, and he isn’t sure what the fuck’s going on. “What?”

She watches him through worried eyes, hands squeezing his biceps like a cat kneading a blanket, releasing all the pent-up energy.

“I can’t keep doing this, Kiba.” Her voice is still so fuckin’ delicate. “You keep doing this, and I can’t… I can hardly recognize you like this…”

He hisses and growls even as he pulls her closer, tears speckling his cheeks like freckles. “I’m hurting.”

She sighs, tickling his ear with the heavy breath. Her voice is hardly more than a whisper, and the tiny bit of sober still alive in his mind realizes that she’s trying not to cry. “I hurt too, but I can’t afford to fall apart because you’re too high to catch me.”

She releases him then, walking away while he’s left dumbstruck and alone.

He sleeps through the night but wakes up in the morning unsatisfied.

◃───────────▹

They don’t talk for three days. No texts. No calls. Nothing. He ignores it. There are parties. So many parties. They fill the ache in his chest until he can’t remember why he’s aching.

But on the walks home, she haunts him. He can’t wait to fuckin’ call her, and then realizes she won’t answer. She wouldn’t answer. She doesn’t answer.

It’s been three days, and she won’t talk to him. She’s been mad about the drinking and shit before, but not like this.

He’ll have to find her in person. Figure out what’s going on, how to fix it.

He hears her and Sakura in the library later that afternoon. They always meet up for gossip-filled study sessions. She’s so damn smart. They both are. He has no idea how he landed such a smart girl, though. Maybe that’s what he’ll ask as the ice-breaker for the uncomfortable conversation they’re sure to have.

But they’re right there, and he can’t resist eavesdropping first.

Sakura’s voice rises like the tide. “He’s an idiot,” she insists.

“I know.”

“He’s high all the time!”

“I know.”

“Why do you love him?”

Kiba can see her face twist between the library shelves. It crumbles like shitty bread, and she cries, hands over her face, hair brushing against the table as she presses her forehead against it like a prayer. Kiba retreats before he can hear anything else.

He thinks about her all night. That hollow look in her eyes behind the smiles. The tear tracks she always tries to hide. The way she flinches when the beer bottles clang together in the sink. I can’t afford to fall apart because you’re too high to catch me. Her words echo through his soul.

◃───────────▹

He knocks on Shikamaru’s door three times the next morning. Despite coming to the door groggy and annoyed, he says nothing as he takes Kiba in, watching him twitch and jitter under the scrutiny.

“I need to get clean,” he finally says.

Shikamaru’s the smartest guy he knows. There’s no one he trusts more to help him figure out how to get sober.

There’s a pause and a long moment in which Kiba fears he’ll be kicked out again. Then, Shikamaru says, “I’m gonna need a lot of coffee for this. Come on.”

◃───────────▹

He’s checked into a facility within the week, and he’s ashamed to admit he didn’t have the balls to tell her. Not that she would’ve answered his calls anyway.

Shikamaru’s been a gem about it, though. He’s coming once a week to bring some stuff for his classes and talk. It’s nice usually. A little stiff, awkward, but mostly because they’re not used to white fluorescent rooms and plastic chairs that could only have been manufactured in hell.

“She asked about you,” Shikamaru reveals the next time he comes.

The thought sends dread through him like a cannonball. He swallows the lump in his throat. “What… what did you tell her?”

“That you went somewhere to get some help.”

He feels dizzy. “What did she say?”

“She cried.”

“Shit.”

“It was such a drag.”

Kiba kicks him under the table. “Don’t be a jackass.”

Shikamaru’s smirk is playful, but his tone rests somewhere between proud and gentle. “Someone has to be now that you’re getting your shit together.”

It throws him for a loop. Shikamaru can tell but doesn’t throw him a bone. They both sit in silence.

“She’s gonna hate me,” he finally says.

“Why?”

“I’ve been such a jackass.”

He regards him for a moment, and Kiba’s grateful he’s taking his time to consider an answer rather than give simple platitudes.

“She plays chess. She’ll understand.”

The answer requires some elaboration.

Shikamaru rolls his eyes. “Try playing chess sometime.” Then, he adds more seriously, “You have to sacrifice pieces sometimes to reach your end goal.”

Kiba considers it. Sure, it makes sense. It’s rational and methodical and makes sense, but he still feels like it’s off somehow. “You can’t break someone’s heart into pieces worth sacrificing.”

“I didn’t expect you to have any brains left. Sobriety’s doing wonders for you.”

“Shut up.”

He sighs. “I don’t know if she’ll take you back. If that’s why you’re in here—”

“I’m not.”

Shikamaru gives him a look.

“I’m not!” he insists. He ruffles a hand through his hair. It would’ve been better to have cut it before he locked himself in here. “I don’t wanna hurt anybody like that again. Not just her. I… I’m not me when I’m fucked up, man. I don’t wanna be fucked up.”

Margaret, his painfully cheery but otherwise well-meaning nurse, all but leaps into their room, bob bouncing against her ears. “Your hour’s up, Kiba! Your friend can come again on Friday.”

Shikamaru stands, clasping his shoulder on the way out. The touch feels weird but welcome. He likes being touched when his nerve endings are working properly.

“I’ll tell her you miss her,” Shikamaru says quietly. “Keep going. It’d be such a drag to give up now.”

He nods jerkily, blinking back the sting in his eyes. “Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.”

◃───────────▹

Kiba thinks about that conversation for the rest of the night. He lays on top of scratchy sheets that don’t have near enough dog fur on them and thinks of you and Shikamaru. He doesn’t know how he’s gotten so lucky, how he has so many friends there to help him. The thought makes his chest ache in a way that would usually send him toward a bottle. If he makes it up to them, maybe that feeling will go away.

◃───────────▹

Her grandma dies on day twenty-eight. He won’t get out in time for the funeral.

Tenten and Hinata are staying with her, though. Trying to fill the void of his absence.

Man, he’s still fucking up with her, even from rehab. The thought makes him jittery. Shikamaru’s look is sympathetic.

“Write her a letter,” he suggests. “I’ll take it.”

Kiba stares at the pen and paper for a long time. He doesn’t know what to say.

I’m sorry your grandma died. Sorry I’m still too focused on myself to be there for you.

I’m sorry I’m in here instead of comforting you.

I’m sorry I still think I’m worthy of comforting you.

I’m sorry.

Please wait for me?

He goes to scratch it out, but Shikamaru snatches the paper out from under him right before Margaret’s head pokes in from the hall.

Shikamaru looks at the paper, frowning even more than usual. “Your handwriting’s still shit. I’ll tell her you love her.”

“Don’t.” He feels sick, eyes closing to push past the vertigo. “Don’t.” When he finds Shikamaru’s eyes again, Kiba can barely hold his gaze. “If she doesn’t… I don’t want her to stress out. Not when her grandma just died.”

Shikamaru’s gaze softens. “I’ll tell her you send your condolences,” he offers.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

◃───────────▹

The end comes quicker than he expected, but he doesn’t mind how good he feels about getting out. It’s… he still doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know how to find what he’s searching for, but he knows he can’t find it in a bottle, which is a damn good start.

He’s got time to figure out the rest now that he’s not actively poisoning himself.

Shikamaru said it would be hot the day of his release, so he’s put on the only pair of shorts that hasn’t been ruined by “therapy paint” and a tee shirt that’s seen better days.

It doesn’t matter, though, because it’s not like people usually come out of rehab in a three piece suit. At least, they don’t around here, anyway.

He hopes Shikamaru hasn’t driven the motorcycle to pick him up. It’d be a damn shame to have worked so hard the last few weeks just to end up splattered on the pavement.

Pavement. It’s the first time he’s seen that in a while, and he’s almost unprepared for the parking lot, even as his feet push him toward it.

He freezes, assaulted by sun and heat and shock. She’s there. She’s fucking there in the goddamn parking lot.

He’s stopped breathing. He knows he needs air, but there’s no way in hell he’ll risk disrupting the mirage in front of him.

It becomes less of a mirage when she carefully steps forward as though he’s a stray dog that’s easily spooked. Maybe he is, he doesn’t know, but he does know that she’s wringing her hands together like Hinata does before a fainting spell, and he can’t have that, so he steps forward on unsteady feet to catch her if she falls.

She doesn’t fall. But she’s close. Closer than she’s ever been, and Kiba finds he doesn’t mind being the strong one right now.

“You’re here,” he says. It’s lame. It’s the lamest thing ever. But half of him still believes she isn’t real; he needs the confirmation.

“Shikamaru said you needed a ride.”

His eyes squeeze shut, pain rolling through his chest in waves. Damn Shikamaru spilling the beans. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to grovel and get rejected in the damn rehab parking lot.

“What?” she asks, unable to resist after the devastated expression he can’t hide.

“It wasn’t suppostta’ be like this. I was gonna buy you flowers before I saw you…” he admits quietly, admonishment spreading between himself and Shikamaru’s lousy attempts at coordinating.

The longing that shoots through him as her face scrunches in that adorable expression of confusion is almost too much to keep him upright. “Why flowers?” she asks.

He licks his lips, she eyes the glint of his snake eye piercing. Some things stay the same. Others don’t. “Your grandma…” he offers helplessly. “I wasn’t there.”

It’s like he’s set off a bomb in all the right ways, telling her exactly what she’d hoped to hear. Her expression crumbles, and she tumbles into him in an instant.

His hands are shaking when they find her hair, her solid body shaking as she cries into his chest. He cries too, head tucked against her.

She’s so fucking beautiful. Their relationship’s been a damn Greek tragedy. He’ll fix everything.

“You don’t need to,” she sobs, and it’s only then he realizes he’d been muttering into her hair. “You don’t need to. Please, just keep trying.”

He holds her like she’ll shatter without him. It’s okay because she holds him just as tightly in return.

◃───────────▹

They’re tentative going forward. It’s a gentle sort of thing. He takes her on real dates. She asks to go on more. They bake normal cookies together on Friday nights, and they have a few indecent make out sessions while the aforementioned baked goods are stuck in the oven. It’s a nice way to live. He wishes he’d started living like this sooner.

But if it were always that easy, maybe he wouldn’t have needed rehab to begin with.

They end up at a party several months after he got out. It’s going fine. He stays away from the kitchen and drinks the Dr Pepper he came with. They came together with a bunch of mutual friends. It was worth coming just to watch Shikamaru fumble and try to look cool flirting with a girl in their Ethics class. Some stories will never be as good conveyed secondhand.

But the longer the night goes on, the more it gets to him. It’s dark and warm and the lights are flashing. He’s thirsty, and he knows the host would let him drink anything, but that requires braving the array of bottles on the kitchen counter, and he knows he can’t.

There are a few discarded drinks on the coffee table in front of him. Those solo cups sound like a damn siren song as the walls start closing in and the conversation around him drags to a standstill.

Man, what he wouldn’t give for a bottle of something. But he can’t. God, he can’t. He runs through the process he learned in rehab: think of what drinking will get you, think of what sobriety will get you. Assess the benefits. Assess your wants.

He wants to marry her, he realizes. He wants to train dogs at The Ranch. He wants to be an uncle to Naruto’s kids—plural, Shikamaru had reported with delight. He wants to be a groomsman at Shikamaru’s wedding someday. He wants, he wants, he wants. But he can’t do any of that if he falls off the damn wagon.

She’s dancing in the center of the room, but the smell of hops and tequila makes him dizzy. He pushes off the couch. It feels like quicksand sucking him in. The carpet is uneven, and he stumbles. He feels like the universe is trying to trap him in this den of hell.

He reaches for her, tucks his head against hers so his lips can find her ear. The smell of shampoo and hairspray invades him, and it’s a welcome respite. “I’m gonna head out.”

She pulls away from him, scanning his face carefully. “Are you okay?”

He nods. It’s not exactly a lie. He’s okay now; he won’t be if he stays.

“I’ll come with you,” she offers, but he shakes his head. She’s having fun with Tenten. Ino’d even let her borrow a dress for the occasion (and, damn, did she look lovely). He’s glad to have come just to see her look so beautiful and carefree. The last thing he wants is to take her away from the fun.

She scrutinizes him again, lashes flicking. “I didn’t eat before we came,” she offers casually. “Let’s go get waffle fries.”

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This beautiful, wild woman loves him and wants to leave parties for him, and she’s already seen him at his worst but now that he’s at his best, she loves him even more. His lips find hers in the darkness, hands tangling in her hair, body pressing against her warmth like he’ll freeze without it. The kiss is soft and smooth like honey. She tastes like lemonade, and it’s so damn good.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers, and vaguely he knows that the middle of a shitty party is the most unromantic place to make the confession, but she beams up at him like he’s given her gold. It’s the first time he’s said it sober.

◃───────────▹

It’s three weeks before graduation, and they’re sitting at her kitchen table trying to crunch the numbers for the house they’re planning to rent together. He’s put the numbers in the calculator wrong three times already, so she’s taken over that part.

It’s okay, though, because he’s got enough money from his new job to pay the deposit and buy a couch that doesn’t look like a frat house got ahold of it. It feels nice. Liberating. And she’s already made him promise her favorite quilt will get to be the one draped over the back of the swanky new couch. As though he’d ever say no to that.

He likes seeing her like this. In the kitchen wearing pjs, eyes squinted as she tries to work though the calculations. It feels like home. He can’t get enough of it.

“How much were we factoring in for pet costs?” she asks, breaking him from his trance.

“Uh…” The numbers are a blur at this point. “It was either $4,230 or $4,430.”

“What was that per month?”

He pauses, and she watches him eagerly as he contemplates. “No idea.”

“Argh! The drugs destroyed all your math skills,” she whines, but the smile on her face gives her away.

He smirks. “I never had any to begin with.”

And she laughs, God, she laughs and swats at him. He realizes it sounds like heaven.

Masterlist

A/N: I'm not really sure what this is, but I had fun writing it. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! :)

#kiba inuzuka #kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba inuzuka imagine #kiba inuzuka fanfiction #inuzuka kiba #inuzuka kiba x reader #inuzuka kiba imagine #inuzuka kiba fanfiction #kiba naruto #kiba x reader #silent writes

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sexyzuka · 6 months

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kiba really said "🐶"

#naruto #naruto shippuden #kiba inuzuka #shino aburame #team 8 #i was there i know it happened #this is totally their dynamic #it's canon #also i'm so sorry i couldn't stop myself from making yet another meme 🤭#my edits #i promise i'll write more fanfiction soon

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nightingaleflow · 1 year

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Naruto Men Take Care of You While You're Sick: Gaara, Shino, Shisui, Kiba, Iruka, Lee

Heya friends. <3 I'm still feeling sick right now, so I decided to write some short, unedited drabbles about different Naruto guys taking care of their sick partner.

This is what I was asking for Naruto characters for, btw, so thank you for sending those in. <3

I haven't written for Shisui or Iruka before, so I hope I did them justice for those who asked for them.

Enjoy!

Gaara (suggested by: @blogthebooklover)

Gaara looked around curiously as he walked in the door. Usually, you were at the door in less than thirty seconds, greeting Gaara with a hug and kiss. You helped him pull his Kazekage robes off, then led him to the dinner table while asking about his day.

But today, you were nowhere to be found. Frowning, Gaara stuck his head in the kitchen, then the living room, before finally making his way to your bedroom.

You were lying in bed, mostly hidden beneath a mountain of blankets. Your skin was flushed with fever, beads of sweat running down your head. You cracked open your eyes when you heard the door open, offering Gaara a faint smile. “Hey,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“Hey,” Gaara said, walking over and pressing his hand against your forehead with a worried expression. “Are you ok?”

You coughed several times before you were able to croak out, “Not really.” You looked away. “I’m sorry I didn’t have dinner ready today.”

Gaara leaned down and gently kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll take care of everything tonight. You just rest and focus on getting better.”

You smiled faintly, closing your eyes as you savored his affection. “What would I do without you?”

He smiled back. “As long as I live, you’ll never have to find out.”

Shino Aburame (suggested by: @nnandmm-archived-hard)

Shino looked up as one of his beetles flew in a lazy circle around him, buzzing a message only he could understand. Immediately, he stopped what he was doing and followed the beetle into the kitchen. There, he found you, swaying in front of the refrigerator, looking at its contents without actually seeing them.

He got behind you just as you fell back, catching you in his strong arms. “Shino?” you asked, tilting your head back. “What are you doing here?”

“Catching you,” Shino replied. “The reason is, my insects told me you weren’t feeling well.”

You sighed. “They’re right. But I just need a little water, and I’ll be good to go.”

Shino wrapped his arm around you, pressing his fingers against your forehead. “You feel feverish,” he said. “Perhaps you should rest, and I will bring you the water.”

You pouted, but when you turned around, Shino’s worried expression made any arguments you would make die in your throat. “Ok,” you agreed.

Shino led you to the couch, covering you with blankets as you laid down. Once you were tucked in, Shino lifted your hand and gently kissed the back of your fingers. “I will be right back,” he promised. “You just rest now.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Shino.”

“Of course, my love.”

Shisui Uchiha (suggested by: @hashira-mal)

Shisui handed you a bowl of your favorite soup, watching you worriedly. You sipped from the spoon, trying to hold back your coughs. “Thanks, Shisui,” you whispered. “This is perfect.”

“I’m glad,” Shisui said, though his expression was still worried. “You really gave me a scare there.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you replied, smiling sheepishly. “I swear, I was feeling ok this morning.”

“All the more reason for you to rest now,” Shisui replied, pulling the blankets tighter around you.

You smiled at the comforting warmth. “You worry about me a lot, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I can’t help it,” he said, brushing stray strands of hair behind your ear. “I love you. I’m always going to worry about you.”

“Shisui…” you started to say. Then it turned into a series of coughs. Shisui immediately wrapped his arm around you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

When they finally subsided, you leaned over, tucking your nose into the crook of his neck. “Thank you for being there for me.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss into your hair. “Of course.”

Kiba Inuzuka (suggested by: @princess-oriana-iantoya)

Kiba could smell you were sick as soon as he entered the house. He and Akamaru made a beeline for the bedroom, where they found you curled up on your side, a cold compress on your head and a glass of water on your nightstand.

“Hey there,” Kiba said, leaning down to look at you. “You doing ok?”

“Working on it,” you replied. “I feel like shit right now though.”

“Aww, poor thing,” Kiba said. He carefully touched your forehead. “Damn, you really are burning up. You need me to get you anything?”

“Can you cure this cold?” you asked. “That would be great.”

“Unfortunately, no, I’m not that good,” Kiba replied, laughing as he picked up your compress. “How about I replace this? It’s almost as hot as you are.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too. “Hot in a good or bad way?”

“You, in a good way,” Kiba said, kissing your cheek. “Akamaru, stay with her for a minute.”

Akamaru barked, wagging his tail. He crawled up on the bed and curled up next to you, resting his head on your chest. You smiled and scratched his ears, making his tail thump the mattress harder.

Kiba returned a minute later, replacing the icy cold compress on your head. Then he crawled in on your other side, holding you close. You sighed, nuzzling against his chest.

“Feeling better?” Kiba asked softly.

You smiled. “Starting to.”

Iruka Umino (suggested by: anon)

Iruka noticed you weren’t feeling well as soon as you two met up. Your smile was less vibrant, your energy dulled. When he took your hand, your skin was warm, and you had long since stopped blushing in his presence, so the flushing was from another source.

“My dear, are you feeling all right?” Iruka asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. “Just a little cold.”

Iruka frowned, then turned you both towards your apartment. “Let’s stay in tonight then,” he suggested. “I don’t want you to get worse on my watch.”

You pouted. “Aww, but Iruka…”

“Please,” he said. “I’ll worry about you otherwise.”

“All right,” you sighed. “You’re cleaning up after dinner though.”

Iruka laughed. “I’m fine with that.” He lifted your hand and kissed it. “Anything to make sure you’re well.”

You leaned against him as you returned home. He helped you over to the sofa and covered you with your softest blanket, then tucked a pillow under your head. He started to get up, but you caught his hand. “What is it, my love?” he asked, looking down at you. “Do you need something?”

You nodded. “Could you…hold me? Just for a minute?”

Iruka chuckled. “Of course.”

He carefully slid onto the sofa, pulling you close so you were spooning. You immediately relaxed, pressing back against his chest. “You’re so comfy, you know that?”

Iruka nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “Am I?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Rock Lee (suggested by: me <3)

Lee double checked everything on the tray. A bowl of your favorite soup, water, medicine, and your favorite treat were all presented and accounted for. Nodding to himself, he picked up the tray and brought it to where you were propped up in bed.

You smiled, slightly embarrassed. “Thank you so much, Lee,” you said. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

“No trouble at all, my love,” Lee said as he set the tray down. “My only wish here is to see you get better.”

You blushed. Lee was always a sweetheart, no matter the day or what else was going on.

Lee carefully scooped up a spoonful of soup, then offered the spoon to you. You sipped the salty broth, closing your eyes as the warmth from the soup and his affection warmed you. A drop of soup splashed on your chin, and Lee hastily reached for a napkin. “I am so sorry, my love, it will not happen again!” he said as he wiped it off.

“It’s ok, Lee.” You caught his hand, holding it to your chest. “I appreciate you taking care of me.” You gently squeezed. “I love you.”

Lee relaxed a little, squeezing your hand back. “I love you too, my darling.”

Tag List: @justmyownreality @therantingfangirl @mrsbakashi @anchy-bananchy @hashira-mal @allyallygator @nnandmm-archived-hard @therozpoz @undersero @headcanonsmadepublic (if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know)

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aaizawashouta · 5 months

Text

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.

#kiba x reader #kiba x you #kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba inuzuka x you #kiba inuzuka smut #kiba inuzuka one shot #naruto fanfiction

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clementinesandwine · 1 year

Text

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.

#naruto #kiba inuzuka #kiba x y/n #kiba naruto #kiba x reader #kiba fluff #kiba smut #naruto smut #sakura #shikamara nara #shikamaru #jealousy #jealous kiba #kiba inuzuka smut #kiba inuzuka fluff #kiba fanfic #naruto fanfiction #kiba imagine #kiba x you

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angelltheninth · 2 years

Note

Ohh, ok, can I have feral Kiba rough fucking Fem!Reader + biting and breeding kinks?

Kiba! I think he was one of first characters that I fawned over in the franchise. He was just so cool and I'm gonna be honest I thought that the fact he had fangs was so cute.

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, rough sex, biting, breeding kink, rutting instincts, mating instincts, feral Kiba

Word count: 0.9k

Ao3

A/N: I'm surprised that there's not a lot of Kiba content out there. He's such a cool guy, and one of the goodest boys in the anime. Where's all the love?

Kiba growled into your ear, his clawed hand digging into your hair scratching, "Stay still babe, I need to get inside, then you can squirm all you want." You arch your back against his naked torso, your ass against his pelvis, while he's trying to work his big cock into you.

You noticed for a few days that he'd been holding back while you were having sex but didn't know why. It was like there was some sort of boundary he set for himself that he would go over, not with out your say so.

He was also struggling every time he was about to finish, not to get there but to hold off through your orgasm long enough for him to pull out, shooting his cum across your cunt and stomach.

When you brought up the issue he was a little bashful about it. Even with your mouth around his cock he was hesitant to admit what he really wanted. It was only when you started riding him, whispering how good his cock feels, how much you love to be filled up, how much you want to feel full of his cum you see something in his eyes shift.

"Kiba? Are you- oh!" He growls into your shoulder as he picks you up by the hips and slams you repeatedly down on his cock a few times. He quickly changes positions, turning you on your stomach, letting his cum drip from between your legs as you try to clamp down around nothing, "Wait, not yet, I'm really close."

"I know baby, just..." Kiba took a deep breath, the tip of his cock rubbing in between your folds, "Hold still." His voice was a full on growl, it sent the most wonderful shivers down your spine and made you spread your legs apart wider, allowing him easier movement. "Tell me if it's too much okay?"

"Okay." You gulped as you felt his clawed hand lay over yours, squeezing and interlocking your fingers as best as he could from this position.

You were not ready for the sheer force of his thrust, for the way he smacked against your ass cheeks with every roll of his hips, keeping you perfectly still while he rutted his cock deep into your cunt. With every stroke you heard him growl, curse and tell you how good you are at taking him, pleasing him, how hot and wet it feels inside you.

"You're still holding back." You clenched your walls around him, tilting your head and bearing your neck to him, "Do you think I can't take you? I can. Please Kiba, fuck me like you mean it, like you want to." You took a deep breath, uttering the two words that made him absolutely lose it, "Breed me."

His fangs snapped close to your ear, on full display, his pupils narrowing into thin, sharp lines. He pushed and pushed, trying to get his cock in deeper than it could go, pulling your hips back, making you moan with every thrust of his thick cock in your dripping pussyhole.

"You wanna be breed huh? Are you my bad girl? A bad girl that wants her cunt filled with my seed?" You bit into the pillow case to stifle your moans. It helped very little. If anything it made Kiba even more animalistic, to know that he's making you feel that good, as if your walls clamping down on his throbbing dick wasn't proof enough.

Your walls started spasming around him, your mind going blank as you orgasmed on his dick, trying to milk every drop of his hot cum, "Yes! Fuck, fill me up, as much as you want! I'm all yours to- ohmygod!"

Kiba huffed and groaned as he sank his cock in deep, flooding your cunt with his hot cum, giving you exactly what you asked for and more. "Wanted to do this for the longest time. You're gonna look so pretty when you're full." His hand sneaks from your hip to pet your stomach.

He pulled back roughly, more jets of cum spraying across your ass and lower back and dripping down your thighs. You tried your hardest to keep as much of it inside, reaching between your legs and pushing it back in with two fingers.

"Damn that's hot. You're so fucking sexy babe. So sexy for me." Kiba leaned down and pressed hot kisses along the back of your sensitive neck, leaving goosebumps and love marks. "Thank you for doing this for me."

"It wasn't just for you trust me." You pulled your fingers out letting the combined cum drip down onto the sheets. Kiba snickered as he settled into bed and pulled you against his chest, "Still not done?" You smile as you look back at him and grind your ass against his still throbbing length.

"It's enough for now." With his fingers he gently gripped your chin and planted his lips against yours, "I love you."

You hummed into the kiss, a little string of saliva still between you two as you ran your tongue over his sharp canines before pulling away, "Then maybe you should share things like this with me more."

"If that's what you want. I'm sorry I was holding back before. Didn't mean to make you worry." Kiba nuzzled his nose against yours, making you giggle at the gesture.

"You can always make it up to me." You husked against his lips, your eyes somehow filled with even more lust then before. Kiba smirked at you and dragged his hand between your legs. You were still sensitive from your orgasm so even the lightest touch on your clit made your hips jerk forward. "We'll canceling our missions for tomorrow, I've got another one for you."

"Sounds like fun. Let's see if you can keep up." Oh. Oh you really liked this new side of him. Hopefully it sticks around for a while.

#naruto x reader #naruto fanfiction #naruto smut #kiba inuzuka #kiba x reader #kiba smut #kiba imagine #kiba fanfic

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honeykngdom · 3 months

Text

‎‧₊˚✧ naruto | masterlist ✧˚₊‧

‎‧₊˚✧ completed ✧˚₊‧

the caretaker : ̗̀➛ pairing: iruka umino x fem!reader : ̗̀➛ synopsis: It's a particularly rainy that Sunday morning. You have places to be, and the rain certainly wasn't going to stop you - a pothole in the road might, however. How embarrassing, now you're late and wet. Oh, God, please tell me you didn't see that? : ̗̀➛ content warnings: set early in shippuden. fluff & comfort. reader sustains a minor ankle injury. mentions of otc painkillers. minor suggestive themes. : ̗̀➛ read here

sentimental values : ̗̀➛ pairing: iruka umino x fem!reader : ̗̀➛ synopsis: Iruka hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the young Sarutobi woman he spent Halloween with; he’s completely enamoured with you. How had he never noticed you like this before? Here’s the catch: Konohamaru doesn’t appear too happy with the budding relationship between you and the Academy instructor - a continuation of the caretaker. : ̗̀➛ content warnings: set in early shippuden. fluff. mentions of prior injury. suggestive themes. : ̗̀➛ read here

triad effect : ̗̀➛ pairing: yamato tenzo x fem!reader & kakashi hatake : ̗̀➛ synopsis: Excuse me boyfriend’s best friend, I need you to come underwear shopping and tell me which set he’d find hottest as a gift. Oh, can you also explain what the hell this contraption you’ve put me in is? Wait, what are you doing in here … stop, we shouldn’t do this … alright. Maybe just this once. : ̗̀➛ content warnings: modern au. valentines series. 18+ only. explicit sexual themes. threesome. cheating (never fear, it works out for reader in the end), cunnalingus, public orgasm, voyuerism, consensual recording, multiple creampies, sexting, dry humping. : ̗̀➛ part one : ̗̀➛ part two : ̗̀➛ part three

current naruto works in progress can be found under the cut!

‧₊˚✧ in progress ✧˚₊‧

kill of the night. : ̗̀➛ pairing: kiba inuzuka x fem!reader : ̗̀➛ content warnings: 18+ only. dark and explicit sexual themes. a/b/o au. mentions of blood. fingering. oral sex (f receiving). unprotected vaginal penetration. marking/scenting. mating press. breeding. creampie. where kiba fights his natural instincts to devour you & breeds you instead.

lean on me. : ̗̀➛ pairing: iruka umino x fem!reader : ̗̀➛ content warnings: 18+ only. explicit sexual themes. mentions of canon character death. angst & comfort. dealing with grief & mourning. - fourth instalment of the caretaker.

just working on my fitness. : ̗̀➛ pairing: fem!reader x might gai / rock lee / shikamaru nara / kiba inuzuka : ̗̀➛ content warnings: suggestive themes. modern au. headcanon series regarding the type of gym-bro the characters are & how they would react to a muscle mommy in the gym.

#naruto fanfiction #naruto masterlist #kakashi hatake #iruka umino #kiba inuzuka #shikamaru nara #might gai #rock lee #naruto #kakashi x reader #iruka x reader #kiba x reader #shikamaru x reader #rock lee x reader #might guy x reader #kakashi hatake smut #iruka umino smut #kiba inuzuka smut #masterlist

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phantomstatistician · 5 months

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Fandom: Naruto

Character: Shino Aburame

Sample Size: 792 stories

Source: AO3

#shino aburame #kiba inuzuka #tenten #hinata hyuga #naruto uzumaki #shikamaru nara #sakura haruno #kankuro #ino yamanaka #neji hyuga #naruto #fanfiction #ao3 #statistics #phantom statistician

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a-girl-must-have-a-new-name · 16 days

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All of the Times Naruto Knew She Danced and the One Time He Didn't

Part Four

The fourth time was after the couple moved in together. While he had noticed Hinata dancing in the apartment from time to time, it was more of an unconscious movement. Hinata gliding and turning elegantly around the apartment came as simply and naturally as breathing.

No, whatever this type of dance was, was very… consciousable. If that was even a word. Naruto thought to himself, as he watched Hinata push their couch up against a wall, while Kiba lifted the dining table up over his head and casually walked past Naruto. A stupid smirk on his face as he plopped the table onto the couple’s bed.

“Excuse me, Naruto, where can I put this?” Naruto jumped from the close proximity of Shino. Turning his head slightly away from the man. In order to avoid being cheek to cheek, Naruto felt a vein throbbing and his annoyance rising. Before Naruto could even figure out a nice way to tell Shino exactly where he could put his tv. Hinata’s sweet melodic voice crashed over him, calming Naruto.

“Shino-kun please bring the tv this way.”

Shino nodded as he moved around Naruto. Plopping the tv onto the coffee table that Kiba had also commandeered and moved towards the opposite wall. Naruto watched from his safe spot in the kitchen as team eight continued to rearrange the apartment.

It was Tuesday night, and like his standing sparring session with Hinata, it seemed team eight had a routine all of their own. Hinata had asked Naruto a few nights ago if he would mind if the boys came over.( It was her week to host the event.) Naruto was quick to remind her that this was her apartment now too, and she could do whatever she wanted. Hinata beamed and kissed him on the cheek. Promising him that they wouldn’t cause too much of a disturbance as she began to give detail of the night. Still focusing on the warmth of her lips, Naruto grabbed her. Effectively cutting her off and preventing her from moving away, as he pulled both of them onto the couch. The rest of the conversation was quickly forgotten.

But now, as he watched Kiba and Shino begin to stretch in his small apartment he thought maybe he should have listened a little more thoroughly. Surely they weren’t about to spar in here right? Looking over the small apartment he realized how cramped they all truly were. So much so that Akamaru was also banished to the kitchen as it was the only space left for the dog. Just as he was about to let his concerns be known Kiba turned the tv on and flipped to a station that played music videos.

“Guys they’re on!” The gasp of excitement that came from Hinata, was way too adorable as she scrambled up from the floor crowding the tv with her other two members. However, once he saw what was happening in front of him Naruto almost choked on the cup of ramen he had made. As the music video was starting Kiba, Shino, and Hinata all three got into their places and as the members of the boybands began to move, so did each member of team eight.

Naruto could only think to cover his mouth as Shino started the dance by slowly walking out towards the middle of what was now apparent their makeshift “stage” and posed for just a moment before the music went into an upbeat tempo and suddenly Shino was moving. Arm for arm. Leg for leg, Shino matched the choreography perfectly. Then suddenly Shino and Kiba switched places as Kiba and his designated dancer took center stage. Both were powerhouses as they swung their bodies in all different directions and did hand movements. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought Kiba was going through hand signals for a jutsu.

Suddenly the chorus of the song rose and with it the three team members in complete sync did the full routine together. It was quite silly to see these three moving forward towards the tv arms wiggling before all skipping backwards, arms windmilling behind them. On and on they kept going, as a new member would perform a solo so would one of team eight. It was only as the final beat of the chorus ended and the team in front of him hit their final poses that Naruto finally couldn’t contain it anymore and let out a chuckle.

Three pairs of eyes (Four if he was counting Akamaru) turned to him. A smile on Hinata’s face, while Kiba looked unimpressed and Shino, well he really couldn’t tell what Shino was thinking.

“Got a problem, buddy?” Kiba demanded, still in his final pose. That caused Naruto to outright laugh. Clutching his stomach as he did so.

“I’m sorry-I really am not trying to be rude, I just didn’t expect that!”

“Why not? Routine dances are a good form of exercise and a valuable training tool.” Shino spoke up as the group moved out of their pose to face Naruto.

“Training tool?” Naruto’s interest peaked as the three nodded vigorously.

“Come join us, Naruto-kun!” Hinata urged, suddenly excited over the idea.

“I don’t know Hinata I-

“Please!” she begged, her eye’s big and wide with hope. Naruto couldn’t deny her. With a resigned sigh he made his way over to the three, choosing to ignore the sound Akamaru made as he passed (which sounded suspiciously like a laugh.) Once he was in front of the tv. Hinata very seriously began to explain.

“When on the field you need to be able to assess a situation in a moment's notice. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“ So you must be able to adapt quickly and move almost without thinking in order to counter an attack.”

“Yes?”

“So here’s what you are going to do. Whatever song comes up next, you are going to pick a person to focus on. You’ll have a few seconds to figure out how they move and then you are going to copy their movements to the best of your ability. The goal is to be able to calculate your opponent or in this case your dancer’s moves almost before they even know what they will do. Ok, Naruto-kun?” Suddenly this didn’t seem nearly as silly as it had been a few seconds ago. It actually did sound like serious and useful training. Excitement pumped through Naruto’s veins as he moved to the front of the tv.

“Yeah! Let’s do this!” Naruto shouted, hyper focused, and ready to take on whatever came his way.

“Wait, what?” Naruto fumbled as the very next video was a girl group. He looked at all of the girls in the video, a very different concept from the fast paced energetic one that had previously played on the screen. Maybe he could try the next video.

“Quickly, Naruto-kun, get in position!” Hinata exclaimed. Naruto jumped, nodding as he quickly scanned the girl group and made to move to the center spot.

“No way! That's my spot!” Kiba barked as he yanked Naruto behind him. Naruto was about to strangle the man but the music had already started. Giving Kiba one last glare he moved into the same starting pose as the girl standing behind Kiba’s. Naruto had less than a second to question what he was even doing before the girls started to move.

If anyone outside of his living room had asked him how he did, he would have said it was a piece of cake. However, the truth of it was a very different story entirely. The poor man stumbled around for what felt like the longest four minutes of his life. At some point he just stood rigidly still, only offering late hand gestures. It took Hinata’s encouragement for him to keep going, and so he powered through running in tempo to his positions, swaying and moving his body, most notably his hips, in ways he was not all that used to. A fact that Kiba felt the need to yell out from across the room.

“For someone who used to change into a sexy babe for fun, you sure have no feminine grace about you!” Kiba mocked as he himself shimmied slowly towards the ground before moving back up and jutting a hip out. The jab was the insult it seemed Naruto needed to up his own ante.

“Fuck off Kiba! I’ve got twice the feminine grace you do!” Naruto shouted as he aggressively snapped his fingers to the beat. Determined to prove himself, Naruto brought his arms in toward his chest before throwing them up towards the ceiling. From there Naruto rotated his wrist as seductively as possible. Grinning to himself in victory when he caught Hinata blushing as she unabashedly watched the movement . Feeling encouraged and storing that information away for later, Naruto hit every move after it was only when the video ended that he allowed himself to drop to the floor gasping for air.

“How..huff..was..that?!” Naruto gasped out as he laid on the floor.

“Terrific Naruto-kun!” Hinata beamed at him giving him a thumbs up.

“Very promising. Why? Because even though you have no rhythm, you have the will to work hard.” Shino murmured.

“I’ve seen better.” Kiba huffed as he turned his head away. Naruto ignored the other two ‘s comments and jabs as he smiled up at Hinata as she bent over him smiling radiantly as she offered her hand. Naruto took it without hesitation as he got up.

The rest of the night was spent much of the same. New groups came on and Naruto would dance. Some groups were better than others and at least three videos from that first male group played throughout the night and judging by the excitement on team eight’s face as they danced, it seemed they were a crowd favorite. Though as the videos kept playing Naruto had to admit the girl group was his favorite and when by pure luck the first song he’d danced to came back on a second time Naruto made sure he hit every move. It was one of the best workouts of his life. So much so that as the group began rearranging the apartment back into it’s usual state. Naruto confessed his enjoyment and said he’d like to mention this to all of the teams and maybe have a large group training exercise.

At that Kiba burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he bellowed. Shino feigned a coughing fit though Naruto noted the grin he was trying to hide, while Hinata looked mortified.

“What’s wrong?”

“You-You really thought we were training?!” Kiba gasped out in between laughs.

“Kiba!” Hinata admonished her long time friend before taking Naruto’s hand.

“Naruto-kun, I must apologize, we might not have been entirely truthful. This isn’t a training session, this is just a… Fun session…”

“A fun session?”

“A hobby.”

“So you guys just meet up every week to dance?”

“Not every week. Why? Because some weeks we do karaoke.” Naruto whipped his head around to look at Shino who had calmed down enough to speak. Naruto gave him a hard look trying to decide if he was tricking him again. The image of Shino standing in front of a crowd singing seemed even more ridiculous than the idea of him dancing. He turned back to Hinata as she stood fidgeting, a look of shame on her face.

“We just wanted to include you, but didn’t want you to think it was silly!” Hinata said earnestly which melted any indignation Naruto might have felt away. Coming up to her he pulled her into a big hug.

“It’s okay Hinata! I probably wouldn’t have joined in as willingly had you not spun it as training. But I really enjoyed it!” Naruto knew an innocent prank when he saw one. And while he was annoyed that he let Shino and Kiba get the best of him, he couldn’t be prouder of Hinata for keeping a straight face as long as she did.

In fact, the thought of Hinata pranking him kinda turned him on. So without hesitation he brought his head down and captured her lips using the surprised gasp from her to the fullest extent as he deepened the kiss. Ignoring the cries of disgust from their two friends Naruto pulled her closer and felt victory and satisfaction when he felt Hinata’s hands gently tugging at his hair and the telltale sound of his door slamming shut as the rest of team eight fled.

The door alerted Hinata to pull away just enough so that she could look him in the eyes as a giggle of their own erupted out of the two of them. Pulling her towards their bedroom. A mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Come on Hinata, it's time for us to have a fun session of our own!”

“N-Naruto!” Hinata gasped but quickly followed the man into their bedroom. Clothes being chucked as they go. It was much closer towards morning when Hinata and Naruto had finally settled down into bed intending to get at least a few hours of sleep. As they cuddled into each other Naruto thought back on Hinata’s dancing that night. Every time he thought he had Hinata figured out. Every time he thought he had her every step, every pattern, every movement memorized deep in his soul, she would surprise him. Naruto squeezed her tightly, daring to break the silence one final time.

“You know, I still think we should make it a big group training session. Maybe not on a Tuesday night though, maybe on a weekend.” Naruto pondered out loud.

“Sure, Naruto-Kun. I think that would be fun.” Hinata murmured groggily as she nestled even further into his warmth.

“Yeah definitely not Tuesday nights, keep those for team eight.”

“That would be nice.” Hinata replied with a yawn.

“I would still be allowed to come though-right?” Naruto asked thoughtfully.

“Of course, love” Hinata gave him the most earnest bleary eyed smile as she pulled the covers up tighter around them, her eyes drifting shut.

“Awesome! Because if you're so sexy when you dance I can only imagine how sexy it will be to hear you sing!” Naruto quipped as he kissed her cheek goodnight and quickly fell asleep.

“Thank you, Naru- Wait what?!” Hinata’s eyes shot open as she bolted up, leaning on her elbow to look at her boyfriend who was snoring rather loudly, a suspicious grin twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“Naruto-kun!” Hinata tried again, as she shook the “slumbering blonde” but all she was meet with was another playful snore.

#naruto fanfiction #naruhina #naruhina fanfiction #hinata hyuga #naruto fandom #naruto uzumaki #naruto x hinata #naruhina fic #naruto x hinata fanfic #team eight #kiba inuzuka #shino aburame #team eight shenanigans #team kurenai

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shanjisan · 8 months

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The face - Kiba Inuzuka.

Warnings: Kiba Inuzuka x F| Reader.Not edited. +18 Smut. NO minors.

At first it was kind of funny to Kiba how you finally came out of your shell and joked with him, that was until it was already unbearable.

It all started because of that damn video on Tiktok of a girl talking about how men when kissing had a ridiculous "face" that he was sure he didn't make.

But now you had been mocking him incessantly every time he came close to kissing you, he hadn't even moved his face towards you when you were already cringing in raucous laughter.

So now he had you on the bed doggy style pounding your pussy with his big cock at a frantic pace, his hand had reached your arms holding them in a firm grip against your lower back and his other hand squeezed your chin, revealing to the mirror in front of you your messy hair, flushed and drooling cheeks, your eyes remained rolling to the top of your head.

"Look at you, who looks so silly now? Huh?" his fingers were entering your mouth and his cock kept drilling inside your wet walls, your lack of response caused him to slow down his movements

"Ooh Kibaa, please don't stop please" you let out a desperate moan you tried to move your hips against Kiba, but he held you in a tight grip.

"I'll move when you stop being a fucking tease" he growled in your ear and leaving little nibbles on your lobe "now be a good girl and kiss me.

With a careful movement he turned your head to the side and crashed his lips with yours, you could feel his tongue brushing all over your cavity, his teeth clashed, it looked like a power fight in which Kiba took the advantage by far.

You could still feel his cock throbbing inside you, his movements were slow but each rubbing made you tremble with need, he was touching all the sensitive spots. Kiba pulled away from you, throwing you a voracious look, he let go of your arms and before you could steady yourself he put one hand on your neck and pressing you against the pillow, his other hand was in charge of pulling your ass up, his head bent towards you.

"Now princess, if you want to cum you better say the words I want to hear."

Without you having time to speak, Kiba sank completely into you drawing a moan from both of us, he rammed into you, a few, two, three times deeply, his body slamming into yours so intensely until he stopped again.

"Oh god damn it, Kiba. Move you son of a bitch" you screamed, you tried to prop yourself up on your forearms but Kiba pressed your head against the pillow again.

"Woah what a rude little mouth you have, but that's not what I wanted to hear precious " out of the corner of your eye you glimpsed how he had a self-centered shit eating grin.

Kiba settled his body pressing deliciously against you and placing his foot firmly on the bed now having a better thrust. His view was spectacular, your big ass presenting itself to him and your slippery pussy swallowing his cock exquisitely.

He could hear your need filled gasps and how your pussy was getting wetter. He pushed gently sheathing himself inside you, feeling your walls squeezing him, he kept on ramming looking for that special place and his hand went around you sliding into your folds and circling your swollen clit, caressing it and fiddling with it. Your eyes watered and your chest felt heavy as did your breathing.

"Kib I'm so sorry, I won't tease your pretty little face again, but please fuck me" you sobbed.

Kiba couldn't help but feel a deep pleasure and tightness in his chest knowing how needy you were for him, his head rested on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses on your cheek.

"What a good girl, now let me reward you."

I got this little idea after I saw a tiktok of a girl making the expressions of how guys kiss and literally when I went to kiss my guy he made the same damn absolute relaxed face hahaha, now I can't help but laugh every time he comes to kiss me. I definitely think Kiba makes the same face when kissing.

I hope you liked it, comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated, I love you guys so much 💞.

#kiba inuzuka #kiba smut #kiba x reader #akamaru #naruto #naruto fanfiction #Kiba #Shanjisan

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mishellii · 21 days

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♢Pregnancy Scare♢

kiba, shikamaru, neji, naruto , sasuke & kakashi

a/n: ahEM based on real life situations ?? who said that ,,,, anyway had to add kakashi because he's been occupying my mind lately. some of these are straight up crack and some are more serious to switch it up :) also, they're all 20+ ! WEAR PROTECTION KIDS aaand as always hope u enjoy xx

requests: open

masterlist

☽ KIBA INUZUKA ☾

☽ SHIKAMARU NARA ☾

☽ NEJI HYUGA ☾

☽ NARUTO UZUMAKI ☾

☽ SASUKE UCHIHA ☾

☽ KAKASHI HATAKE ☾

a/n: tysm for reading, let me know if u enjoyed it xx

ps: pics are all off pinterest !

devider by @enchanthings

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silentexplorer18 · 2 years

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Kiba Inuzuka Masterlist

Note

All my fics are available on AO3.

*Denotes additional availability on Wattpad.

Find my other Masterlists here.

X Reader Fics

Heaven

Series

The Heat Series (AO3)

Disasters Waiting

Lovely Touches Endearing Me to You

#kiba inuzuka #kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba inuzuka imagines #kiba inuzuka fanfiction #inuzuka kiba #inuzuka kiba x reader #inuzuka kiba fanfiction #inuzuka kiba imagine #kiba x you #masterlist #kiba inuzuka masterlist #inuzuka kiba masterlist #silent masterlist

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tired-biscuit · 2 years

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Happy Birthday

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka/fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni // modern au, intoxication, unhealthy amount of tension, edging. reader is naruto uzumaki's younger sister.

Word count: 11.5k

Summary: Kiba invites you to his 22nd birthday party. Stuff happens.

a/n: nobody asked for this, but here i am; posting this one-shot in honour of the birthday boy.

HAD this all been a mistake?

As you feel the bitter burn of yet another consumed shot seep its way down your throat, you can't say for sure.

Placing the tiny glass back upon the kitchen counter, your expression twists into one of pure disgust when the heat settles into the pit of your stomach.

You've forgotten just how bad vodka tastes on its own, lacking the sweet tang of Red Bull or juice. The reminder is semi-welcomed, you suppose.

The broad palm to land upon your shoulder blade in that moment is warm as it pats you encouragingly one, two; three times.

You suck in a sharp breath through gritted teeth, swallowing the runny saliva that's only there because of the damn vodka, before a bright red solo cup is shoved right into your hands.

Your eyes narrow as you look up at the tall, handsome brunet which you've had the unfortunate pleasure of knowing ever since you were little.

Unbeknownst to many, Kiba has been terrorizing your life for as long as you can remember. Adorning nearly every picture in your family photo album with that tan, freckled face of his, the ebullient Inuzuka had met your big brother on his first day of preschool, and stuck by his side from that moment onward.

Since Kiba is Naruto's best friend, it's no wonder how most of the memories you have of your childhood include him.

Only two years younger than the two boys, you grew up alongside both Naruto and Kiba; building sandcastles on the beach together whenever you went on vacation, playing hide and seek, as well as every other game you could possibly come up with off the top of your tiny heads and which made you constantly end up in trouble together.

Kiba - always the rather boisterous and rowdy kid, much like your big brother - had been more or less invariably nice to you throughout all those years.

Until he abruptly wasn't.

After all, as soon as the Inuzuka turned eight, he had started getting mean; towards you, specifically. Constantly tugging on your pigtails and taunting you for how you acted and spoke, Kiba had made you cry and tell on him to your mother on several occasions.

Crying big, fat tears, you never quite understood why she only chuckled at your childish complaints back then. Why Tsume, Kiba's own mother, had had the exact same reaction, too. Why Naruto agreed with everything he said like the traitorous older brother he was, and got fussy all of a sudden if you wanted to play with them like you always did.

You stopped trying to fit in amongst the two rowdy boys at some point, and instead focused on your own hobbies.

So, years passed. You grew up into a sweet girl, who eventually found friends of her own, and forgot all about stupid, idiotic Kiba who teased you until you cried, despite that he swung by nearly every other day.

That is, until he went to visit his dad one summer when you were thirteen. That year, Kiba came back tall and lean; with his limbs almost comically long, as well as accompanied with a deep voice that made you burst out with laughter whenever it cracked into a higher pitch mid-sentence.

You still quarelled in the same way you used to when you were little, but this time without your tearful complaints to your mother.

He told you all about how his summer went, how his dad was pretty okay whenever he wished to be, and how his older sister Hana had stepped on a sea urchin and had to be rushed to the hospital, where he laughed his ass off as she groaned with every pluck of the doctor's tweezers.

But then that summer came to an end, as all things do, and Kiba started high school along with Naruto, and you were forgotten once again because of other, new friends and experiences that interested him as a proper teenager, and that certainly had nothing to do with thirteen-year-old you.

By the time you became a freshman yourself, he was already seventeen and a junior. Much to your beffudlement, Kiba had started acting weird around you at that age, mostly turning an ignorant eye towards your direction and barely speaking to you at all, which had most definitely been way out of his usually outgoing personality.

He stared at you only when you weren't looking. Asked Naruto about how you were doing, but never once voiced the question directly to you. The entire ordeal only made you grow further apart.

You never questioned him about it; well at least not truly, anyway. It wasn't like you actually cared about what someone as silly as Kiba thought of you, after all.

And then all of a sudden said boy was a senior finishing high school, getting ready to begin living yet another chapter of his life. He got a sports scholarship and left town for college without ever saying goodbye, much like your own brother. He left you behind, just like that. They both did.

It seemed that university life was a blast for an open, untamed person like Kiba, at least judging from the pictures he posted on his Instagram. From eighteen to twenty-one, you mostly saw him transfigure from a boy to a man over the screen of your phone - barely interacting with him at all, if it weren't for the rare exception whenever he liked the selfie you occasionally posted, was asking for Naruto, or if he dropped by the house to say hi to your parents during the summer.

So, to say that you were absolutely flabbergasted when you received a random text from him one night, inviting you to his 22nd birthday party would be an understatement.

Even Naruto seemed surprised when you asked if Kiba had possibly made a mistake. Had turned slightly suspicious, too, as you skipped down the stairs way more dolled up than usual on the night of the party, staring up at him with slightly anxious eyes.

"It's just Kiba," your brother tells you, eyeing the pretty skirt and top you've decided on tonight, "so, why are you all dressed up?"

"Who said it was for him?" you reply with an eye roll, despite that there's an inexplicable bounce to your step as you leave the house.

And that was that, as well as the reason how you find yourself staring at a freshly turned twenty-two-year-old Kiba, the golden amber within his irises recoiling whenever your gazes meet inside his dimly-lit kitchen.

You have no idea how he has managed to hunt you down amongst the mass of people to fill every room of his house, but the honey-like shade nearly glows with overt amusement when he smiles down at you after he's successfully persuaded you into sharing a third round of double shots with him.

Let's be honest, it's not like it took him a lot of effort. It's his birthday, after all. And the birthday boy gets what he wants!

Meanwhile, Kiba, who is feverishly determined and drunk just enough to finally shoot his shot with the girl that's been off limits to him for fucking aeons, is putting his best effort in making that statement true.

He knows what he's attempting to do is supposedly wrong as he keeps poking and prodding at you to see how you play - knows it darn well, but after literal years of loyalty and restraint, he's allowed to go behind his best friend's back just this once, right?

Sure, Naruto will unleash hell and fury upon him if he finds out, but...

I mean, come on! You're old enough to make your own decisions in life. He's tired of only liking your cute selfies and never sliding into your DMs, because Naruto gets upset everytime he sees him double-tap the damn posts. It's his birthday, for crying out loud!

And it's not just any birthday. This year, Kiba has finally allowed himself to wish for you; hence why you're here in the first place.

So, it's the fact that it's just you and him inside the little kitchen that matters most to him, no matter that you're surrounded by other individuals who he can't bring himself to care about in that moment. Honestly, with so many people around, Kiba is slightly surprised that he's the only one you seem to endure the company of tonight.

After all, he had waited for an hour or so before leaving his friends to go look for you instead, giving you plenty of time to mingle. When he at long last found you behind the kitchen counter, mixing yourself a drink, completely alone and not talking to anybody, it was like yet another birthday present amongst many.

The realization that you're actually standing in front of him and he's seeing you properly after years of nothing is making his heart feel all kinds of weird. He's been crushing on you ever since he was a little kid, but that's long gone.

He's a man now - a man that's still undeniably crushing on you, but still...

All he has left to do as an infatuated man, now; is to score. It's a parlous task, however Kiba is willing to take the risk.

He's thought long and hard about this. Has taken safety precautions. The people he invited have no fucking clue who you are, or are far too intoxicated and high to remember whose baby sister exactly he's beginning to hit on. The sister, mind you, whose annoyingly protective older brother is nowhere to be seen, because Kiba had made sure to invite his friend Hinata from college, so that she'd keep the damn cockblocker busy while he kicks up the charm.

But you don't know anything about his wicked plan. You just see his smile, and assume he's being nice to you because a circuit inside that little, male brain of his must have glitched, or whatever.

He's telling you something, but you can barely hear him over the booming music and equally as loud chatter. The brown-haired Inuzuka seems to own an entire army of friends, however is that really a surprise, considering how damn affable he is?

His mouth moves in the most peculiar way when he grins, upper lip pink and plump as it pulls back on his teeth; as well as slightly glossy from the shot he's just finished. The two incisors he owns are way sharper than whatever you've seen on any other human. They glint in the dim light, causing your pulse to quicken.

"Hey," you hear him drawl seemingly from miles away, "you doin' okay there?"

You feel your nose scrunch up when he snaps his fingers in front of your face all of a sudden. Catching gazes with the fierce amber, you feel like the silliest of fools.

You've successfully zoned out, thinking about his stupid mouth, and Kiba is staring at you now; studying you like you're a goddamn enigma he seems surprisingly eager to solve.

His eyes are enticing just like his mouth. The realization that you've been caught ogling at his lovely smile makes heat radiate through your chest. You swear that you can feel your heart hurting from the sheer and utter embarrassment.

Jittery nerves propel your adrenaline levels, your grip around the cup which you're still holding in your hand, tightening in response.

The tips of your fingers feel somewhat numb from all the alcohol you've indulged yourself in. You're not entirely sure if that's a good thing or not.

"y/n," he says your name, waving a hand in front of your face again.

"Wha-... Sorry, what?" you manage lamely.

The second heatwave of humiliation to hit you in that moment isn't exactly helping in sobering you up, but that's not the plan anyway. It's just annoying that you can't seem to focus.

Kiba snickers at your obvious discomfort, just like he did when he was a kid. "Somebody can't handle their booze?"

The frown you portray is subtle and pouty. "I'm just tired."

"Mhmmm," he hums exaggeratedly, nodding, "of course you are."

You can't believe you used to have a crush on a taunting prick like him. The sigh you loose is exasperated as you point to the solo cup he's just handed you. "What's in this?"

"What?" He quirks one dark brow before leaning in slightly so that he can hear you better.

His cologne invades your nose in an instant. Kiba smells like rain and cedarwood; heavy, balsamic notes that remind you of a forest that's wrapped in a blanket of thick fog and moss, all of it coated in a layer of cool morning dew.

The pleasant scent titillates your senses to the point where it makes you want to cling onto the white t-shirt he's wearing, so that you'd be able to bury your face into the crook of his neck.

Pause. It's Kiba we're talking about here. Idiot Kiba, who forgot to tie his shoes before he went on a roller coaster when he was nine, and sent them flying away in the middle of the ride.

Kiba, who chugged milk straight from the carton and laughed so hard it spurted out his nose when you told him how gross he was. Kiba, who kept picking up spiders and other nasty bugs, and then ran after you, threatening you he'll drop them into your hair as you squealed and cried.

The thought of sin that had crossed your mind nearly makes you cringe away from him at the other memories to otherwise flood your brain as if in argument. How embarrassing for you!

Blinking, you instantly hang blame upon the alcohol that's coursing your veins, and obviously clouding your better judgement. He's your brother's best friend, after all - one who you've known since diapers and that's been seen as nothing but a menace in your eyes ever since.

It'd be gross to think like that about Kiba of all people, wouldn't it?

... Wouldn't it?

Partially satisfied with your reasoning, you grumble and curl your fingers around the unbuttoned front of the flannel he's wearing over the white t-shirt, so that you can pull him closer.

He's compliant as he leans in, but what you fail to notice, however, is that his hand rests against the kitchen counter at the tug; trapping you in-between the cool marble and his body. Caging you right in.

The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up to his elbows. You can't help but glance at the defined knuckles and flexible digits. His forearm is tan and covered in dark hair, but you can still see a small fraction of the thin, white scar he's acquired when he fell off his skateboard when he was seven, and that's now hiding underneath the rather familiar forest green, vowen bracelet he's been wearing since forever.

Back then, it would have been either a sprained wrist, or a head-on collision with you when you had swerved in front of him on your little, bright pink rollerblades just as he had picked up speed on the damned board.

Luckily for you; Kiba had chosen the former.

Come to think of it, he always chose you over his own well-being. He fussed about it, of course, but he nonetheless picked your safety first.

You're not entirely sure why you even remember such a thing; even less why it makes your heart flutter. But you're not one to dwell on it.

Stepping onto the tips of your toes, your mouth is right next to his ear as you raise your voice and repeat the question, "I was asking what's in the cup?"

"It's just soda, pipsqueak," Kiba says, the rasp of his voice laced with laughter as he adds, "it'll help in getting rid of the taste of booze that you can't seem to endure."

Both of your brows shoot up in mild astonishment at the blatant taunt. "Excuse me?"

He smiles down at you once more. "What?"

Your eyes dip to his smile again. There you go, staring at his mouth for a second time in the mere span of five minutes. Making him notice. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Your voice shakes slightly as you utter, "Don't you think you're a bit too old to keep teasing me, Kiba?"

"Hmm?" His eyes glimmer with profound mischief when he says, "I always thought you'd be the kind of girl that'd enjoy a little bit of teasing."

Heat creeps up your neck at the hint. He's obviously drunk, but so are you, because now you're smirking as you reply, "It completely depends on the occasion."

"Yeah?" He seems completely invested, impatient fingers tapping against the marble of the counter as he towers over you. "What kind of occasion, exactly?"

You can't resist an eye roll. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Oh, I'd like to know, all right. Very much so."

The giggle you weave into the tease is innocently cute, "Sorry, but I don't kiss and tell." It's all fun and games, right? No harm done.

He's quick to turn it into his favour. "Mind making an exception for me?"

"For which one, exactly," you quip in an instant, "the kiss, or the tell part?"

"Why, you little-... Hah." His lips part, revealing the perfect, straight row of teeth again as he laughs quietly at your jab.

The beam itself is crooked and appealing, and it's in that exact moment that you realize how close he actually is as he stands next to you. How his gaze burns like a forge as it focuses solely on you, and how anyone walking past could take it the wrong way as you push back against the counter and he leans in even further, like it's his fucking instinct to follow after you.

Wait. Are you actually flirting with him right now?

You pray to every God you know that Naruto doesn't come searching for you. If he were to find you like this, your brother might just tear you to shreds for messing with his best friend of all people. Might rip Kiba apart for allowing it in the first place, too.

But in all seriousness; are you just messing around with him? Or do you actually want to initiate something with your brother's best friend, who, at long last, is giving you the attention you've wished for ever since you were thirteen? Or perhaps it is just the booze taking control of your actions?

The edge of the counter bites into the small of your back with the movement as you pull back. Kiba's digits tap against the marble again. He trails his eyes all over you - up and down. Like a proper bastard.

His arm is so close to your side that you can feel his body heat pour into you, even though you're not making any sort of physical contact ever since your hand had left his flannel. The feeling is overwhelming, to say the least. You can't believe you're actually growing flustered around an idiot like Kiba, for fuck's sake.

The daze you feel is the reason why the best you can do is stare at his chest now, which is so wide that you're wondering how big his goddamn ribcage must be. His heart definitely beats like a war drum; you're sure of it.

Before you can hesitate, the curiosity you feel makes you press your palm against the middle of his chest. Not a moment passes, and there it is - the strong, steady heartbeat you've expected to feel; grazing your finger pads, and making your own pulse skyrocket.

"Anyways," you pat his firm chest, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible while placing the cup of soda onto the counter, "I can handle it just fine, Kib."

"Sweetheart," Kiba utters, the grin on his face growing even wider, "I'm not entirely sure you can."

Your gaze lifts as you look at him underneath your eyelashes. His face owns a reddish tint to it now; both cheeks blooming with heat which you're guessing is there because of the alcohol.

His eyes seem glossy, the stare heavy-lidded and complacent, but most importantly - unmoving from your own.

Your nerves are firing up all at once at the intense eye contact. Pressure climbs up your throat, making your chest tighten with blazing-hot tension. Your mind is running all over the place, turning you incapable of concentrating.

The suspense makes you falter as you peel your eyes away from him. It turns you into a coward, because now you're completely changing the subject, "Nice bracelet."

Kiba on the other hand, seems to be holding his ground. His voice is smooth as velvet as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and says, "As far as I remember, you've bought it for me at the beach years ago."

Hyper-awareness flashes throughout you at his touch, making you tongue-tangled with the jumble of words you let out, "Yeah, 'cause you wouldn't stop bitching about how I lost your stupid Spider-Man towel, and I had to make it up to you somehow."

"First of all, it wasn't stupid. And second," he chuckles as he curls the same strand of hair around his finger and tugs it lightly to provoke you further, "it was an Iron Man one. Please educate yourself before you come for me, cutie."

Your pulse is racing now. "Cutie?"

Kiba blinks. His knuckle brushes your cheekbone and it's like a tingling, nearly electrical jolt that surges through him at the accidental touch in that exact moment.

He pulls back, leaving the part of skin he touched burning in his wake. "I'm sorry. I didn't-... I didn't mean it like that. Fuck, hah."

His laughter is somewhat nervous now, and to be honest, you've never seen him act this hesitant before. The Kiba you know had always been nothing but smug in every single aspect, but at the same time, you barely know the current Kiba.

You haven't talked in years, after all - not properly, at least, which is why this entire interaction is so freaking odd in the first place. You wish you had some sort of power to know what on earth is going on inside that pretty head of his.

Based from experience gained from spending so many years in his company, you're guessing not much is happening inside that thick skull, but you'd kill to know the reason as to why he's invited you to his birthday party at all.

What has changed? Why was he searching the house for you, specifically, pretty much ignoring all the people he had invited, and why has he decided to spend the rest of the night in your presence, instead of anyone else's?

It seems that no matter how simple his mind may be, Kiba is - much to your dismay - the true enigma here.

Great.

"Ugh, I'm sorry," he repeats when you don't say anything in return, running a frustrated hand through his chestnut hair, "I think I'm just really wasted and saying shit I don't mean, 'cause of it."

In truth, he just wants to see if you'll bite into the bait he's setting up for you. If you'll play, and allow him to yank you right into his greedy hands.

You must be wasted, too, because now you're looking him right in the eye, saying, "It's all right, Kib. I liked it."

You just can't help yourself. Tonight is the first time in your life that you're seeing him this defenseless. That you're able to tug and pull on his strings, and play with him like he's a shiny, new toy that you can't wait to mess with. The opportunity is simply too good to miss out on.

If only you knew.

The atmosphere changes yet again at the words you've just spoken out loud, God have mercy on your soul. Something sticky and morally questionable settles right between you.

The tension is making your mouth dry. You're both circling now; unsure and waiting to see who is willing to take the first step towards the reason behind your uncertainty.

"You liked it," he mumbles at long last, unable to look at you properly, "the pet name?"

"Mhmm, I think it's cute." The smile you offer him is as cunning as one of a fox - pure vixen. Kiba doesn't understand why, but something about your face brightening up and the way the sheen of your lip gloss catches light tempts him; makes him tilt his head to the side and take you in unashamedly this time around.

He's outright leering at you now, studying you from head to toe, and taking in the pretty skirt and tight top, without trying to hide his interest like he's been doing for the past hour and a half.

You might own the smile of a fox, being an Uzumaki and all that, but when his amber eyes darken with shadows you can't quite read, you realize that he's the hound that's just about ready to start hunting you down.

His bottom lip is tucked underneath the same teeth that are now chewing the tender flesh from deeply pondering a thought which you'll never get the pleasure of knowing.

Kiba steps from one foot to another, loosing a huffed chuckle before he looks you in the eye again; seemingly satisfied with his conclusion.

Time to go all-in.

"You know," he says, voice wary, "I've got loads of other stuff from way back when we were kids, saved in a box upstairs, if you wanna check it out?"

He pauses for a second as his head whips to the side. He looks over his shoulder, and you can see him scan the room quickly; searching for something, or rather someone, before he turns back towards you and adds, "It's, uh... It's up in my room."

You quirk a brow at the suggestion. "You want to take me up to your room?"

Is he seriously asking what you think he is?

"Yeah," he says a bit more confidently now, scratching the back of his neck. His face is red as he mutters, "But only if you want to, of course."

"Hmm." You spend two or three seconds pretending that you're thinking it over just to see him fidget and squirm a bit more, before you at long last give him a slow nod of your head, "Sure, I guess."

Kiba seems relieved, until: "Though, I should probably go tell Naruto, so that he knows where I am."

Pushing from the counter, you dust off the imaginary lint from your cute skirt, however before you can even look up at him, his hand is back to pressing against the marble; blocking your path.

It seems that you aren't going anywhere.

Kiba's eyes are dark and glazed, the iridescent flecks of gold lazily swirling inside the liquid amber whenever the light catches the irises just right. He's looking down at you with a furrowed brow and an expression that's pretty bitter, unlike his honey eyes, but you only realize that he can't stop staring at your mouth when he says, "Maybe we shouldn't tell Naruto about where we're goin', sweetheart."

You aren't stupid. You know that the words have a deeper meaning. And now, you have yet another reason for your hunch to be proven right on why he doesn't want your brother to find out where you're going with him. Still, you push his limit, feeling him out, "And why is that?"

"He's probably busy." His voice is firm as he looks down at you when you flutter your eyelashes up at him. Perhaps it even owns a certain edge of frustration to it.

You sound like a bimbo when you reply, "Ah, I see."

You stare at each other as you feel the buzz of tension to sear your skin in mind-numbing waves. They're hitting against you both like you're cliffs that are constantly being kissed by the rowdy sea.

You can almost taste the anticipation of what's to come. Meanwhile, Kiba can nearly taste your saliva mixing with his own.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Kiss you, until you won't be able to feel your mouth anymore from how hot his tongue is to stroke yours and scorch you.

He's been imagining how it'd be like to kiss that pouty mouth ever since he was fourteen. And now - at twenty-two - he wants to know just as bad.

"Well?" he utters, impatience peeking through the mask he's put on ever since you've shown up at his front door.

"Chill, you idiot," you giggle finally, nodding again, "I won't tell Naruto if you don't want me to."

It'll be our little secret.

Relief washes over him yet again. He smirks as he moves at your compliance, offering you his hand like those cocky gentlemen in the films you're an absolute sucker for. "Well, shall we, then?"

The action is so cheesy and sweet, that you don't even hesitate to place your palm upon his own, not realizing the consequences of your decision in that moment.

His grip is tight and possessive in all the right ways. You can't remember the last time you've held hands with him, but it certainly didn't feel like this.

"Lead the way, Kib."

And so, Kiba does.

---

"Christ, I haven't been up here in forever."

"And yet, you seem to have made yourself quite at home."

You turn to look at him from your spot on his bed you've just plopped down and made yourself comfortable on. His childhood bedroom is a bit different than what you saw the last time you were here, but what exactly has changed?

The bed is certainly bigger, as well as the wardrobe that stands in one corner opposite from where you're currently sitting. All of the furniture is made out of rich oak, exactly like most of the house; as well as the desk that's covered in random clutter, mostly consisting of notebooks, bright highlighters and sticky notes, which he must have brought home from college.

The movie posters to adorn the walls are still there, and somehow compliment the cosy aesthetic of his space. You spot the fluffy-looking dog bed that's set-up right next to his desk. It's empty.

"Is Akamaru with your mom?"

"Yeah, they won't be back until tomorrow evening," Kiba replies, closing the door, "now stop snooping through my stuff, will ya?"

"Uh, it's called looking around? Who said I was snooping?" The scoff you let out in answer is nothing short from derisive as you say, "And besides, it's not like there'd be anything new to find... Not much has changed; seeing that your room is still as messy as it was when you were ten."

"It ain't that messy," he retaliates, fingers wrapping around the key that's secured in the lock. He stands next to the door for a couple of seconds, making you stare at his back in puzzlement.

His voice is surprisingly quiet and soft when he speaks again, though thankfully you can still hear him over the muffled noise of music that's still being blasted downstairs, "By the way, uh... Do you mind if I lock the door?"

Oh?

The smirk which insists on curling the corners of your gloss-coated lips upwards is hard to hide. "Why would you lock it?"

He pauses again, body going still. You just know the gears within his head are turning at the speed of light. You can't help but wonder if it hurts him to think this much; this hard, when he says, "I don't want people getting the wrong idea."

Your reply is as swift as an arrow: "Don't you think locking the door would give them that exact idea in the first place, Kiba?"

For fuck's sake, you're too clever and witty for your own good; always have been. It's infuriating, but Kiba tames the tone of his voice into something sweeter by swallowing hard. "Let's hope not."

Before you can quip anything back at him, the lock clicks into place. Click! - your fate is sealed with his decision. God help you.

"Wow," you snort, shaking your head, "thanks for having the decency to at least ask me if I wanted the door locked, I suppose."

Kiba flashes you a playful, closed-eyed smile when he turns around and makes his way towards the wardrobe. You try to your best ability to not ogle at the way the flannel tightens around his broad shoulders and back when he raises his arms to pick up the box he's been telling you about.

Still, no matter how hard you try to look away, it seems to be literally impossible for you to quit glancing in his direction whenever the rippling muscle shifts underneath the cotton with every minuscule movement he makes.

The sports scholarship must have done him good, because he's fit and fucking fine as hell.

Though, not in the tall and lean way kind of fit, like he's been during most of his teenage years. No, as a proper adult, Kiba is appealingly vigorous and buff; owning strength you can't quite possibly imagine being unleashed upon your smaller frame.

He'd be able to crush you into a pulp if he ever wished to do so. To squeeze your throat until you'd be fighting against him, so that he'd allow air into your lungs. To hold you up without any sort of trouble as he'd fuck you against the goddamn wall.

You're not entirely sure if the knowledge of that last one thrills you, or instead frightens you right to the bone which he'd be able to break right in half anyway. Still, possibly scared or not, you might just start drooling at the sight of him.

You're looking at him like he's a piece of meat you'd like to chew on. How pathetic of you to be this shallow.

And how pathetic of him to be doing the exact same thing.

"Okay," he mumbles as he brings the box over and plops down onto the bed right next to you, "let's see what's in here."

Kiba flicks the lid off, the tiniest of smiles creeping up on his lips at the audible gasp you let out as soon as the items come into view.

The box is filled with seemingly completely random clutter, but after taking a closer look, you recognize the tiny sea-shells, the movie tickets, as well as all the postcards you've sent him. It's more than ten years of life - stuffed into a cardboard shoebox.

You spend the next half hour going through the box with him, reminiscing about memories that are both equally as sweet as they are nostalgic, sharing laughs and teasing each other as they bring you closer together; sewing up that gap of unfamiliarity between you with every passing second and exchanged relic.

Kiba's heart is fluttering with every drunken, tinkling giggle you're letting out, as well as the way your entire expression brightens because of him.

And he - the smitten, poor man that he is - just can't stop looking at you, because he's missed this. Talking to you, bringing those beaming smiles forth everytime he makes you laugh; just being in your warm presence, overall. Truth be told, he's missed all of it.

He's missed you.

"Can't believe you've kept all of this, Kib," you utter softly, reading the postcard you've sent him nearly nine years ago, "most of these literally make no sense. I'm just blabbering about my vacation, but in writing."

"I know. I suppose you could call me sentimental, eh?" He laughs quietly as he leans in and trails the tip of his finger over the scribbles you've written down when you were eleven. "But I always liked the lil' hearts you drew for me on every one."

"The hearts?"

"Yeah, look," he says as he pushes even closer to you, pointing to the corner of the postcard, "here's one. And... Another one."

His index finger brushes against your thumb when he points to the second doodle of a heart on the postcard you're still holding. He's sprawled on his side, supporting himself with one elbow and reclining so close to you, that you can smell his cologne all over again.

The scent clouds your mind for a second time that night. You're right back inside that rainy forest again; wishing to lie down onto the damp, moss-covered ground and just be fucking overtaken by the fog, until you'd feel the chill of its kiss on your neck.

The thought makes you drop the postcard somewhat absent-mindedly as you turn to look at him. He's much closer than you've realized, because as soon as you make eye contact; your faces are mere inches apart, the tips of your noses almost touching.

You can see all of his freckles this up-close, as well as the dimple in his cheek which shows up when one corner of his mouth tugs to the side. Something within you begins to glow when he looks at you so very warmly with those big, fierce amber eyes of his.

He makes you feel special with just one look alone. Unique. One of a kind.

"What is it, cutie?" His voice is barely above a whisper now.

"Nothing, I just," you mumble as heat sears your face at the pet name, "I think I must be very drunk right now, because I actually think you look super pretty up-close."

"Oh?" Kiba snickers at what you admit. "Why, thank you. Wish I could say the same for you, but you're kind of blurry for me right now."

"Ha ha, funny." You roll your eyes at him, shoving him away by pressing your palm against his chest. However, before you can even fully extend your arm to use more force, his fingers are wrapping around your wrist; tugging you closer in one swift movement.

He yanks you towards himself, until you're practically hovering above his face with your own. You're so close that you're sharing your breaths, staring into each other's eyes - both of your pupils dilating at the intimate closeness.

"I-I'm very drunk right now, Kiba," you repeat, cursing yourself internally for the stutter.

"As am I," he replies quietly, pushing your hand firmer against his chest. You can feel his rapid heartbeat right underneath the tips of your fingers again. The rhythmic sensation makes you gather up the cotton of his crisp, white t-shirt between your own digits as you clutch it tightly.

Your forehead presses against his own. You're almost breathless already, and he hasn't even kissed you. "This... This might not be a good idea."

"We haven't done anything," he utters in a hushed whisper, the hand that was just holding your wrist snaking up to caress your cheek. He trails the tip of his finger over your cheekbone, eyes glued to your mouth, "And we don't have to either, if that's not something you want."

The alcohol is pushing you to tell the truth. It's promising you that you'll feel better if you admit your feelings that have been there for ages. That the fear you feel is nothing compared to the relief that's to come.

"The problem is that I, uh... I do." You sigh, inching closer and closer, "I do want to."

Oh, god. Kiba's heart is just about ready to burst from joy at your answer. He feels nauseous from how overwhelmed all the feelings are making him. He just has to feel everything so strongly, doesn't he? It's amazing how he hasn't burned out yet, but he has to keep it together. Has to keep himself in check for you.

"Yeah?" His chuckle is dark in humour as he cups your cheek tighter, "You want me to kiss you?"

"Ye-... Yeah."

Kiba doesn't need anything else. His lips latch to your own as soon as you get the approval out, and the moment your mouths connect in panting, careful kisses that become hotter and hotter with passion with each one that follows after the other, it's everything you could have possibly wished for.

Kissing him is better than whatever you've imagined for all these years. He tugs on your bottom lip, spoils the upper one with affection, warms them both with his gentle sigh. You can't believe it took you this long to actually get to feel that plush mouth of his pressing against your own this softly, this tenderly.

Better late than never, you suppose.

He pulls back after a while, taking a deep, shaky breath. You're both chuckling quietly now, avoiding each other's eyes and not saying anything; too stunned to speak from the kiss you've just shared. His face is gaining the colour of a red tomato. He just likes you so much.

"Fuck, that was..." He's quiet for a moment, shaking his head with a grin that owns the power to bring you to your knees as he says, "Can I, uh... Can I kiss you again, maybe?"

"Yes," you barely let out, before his mouth is back upon your own.

His warm tongue strokes your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance. As soon as your lips part with a content sigh, he's pushing against you, tasting and gliding over every crevice within your sweet mouth, as well as the roof of it - tasting you for the very first time, and relishing you thoroughly because of it.

You can feel him forcing you into the mattress as the kisses flow between you and the tension you feel spreads through your entire body like a wildfire; until you're lying down on your side, and he's hovering above you exactly like you've done just a minute prior.

He's more eager now; overtaking your mouth with his tongue and the quick, slightly painful prickles which burn whenever he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. A small moan manages to slip past your mouth at the sensation when he tugs on your swollen lip that's long since lost all the gloss from how harsh your kissing is turning.

The sound of your mewl is so appealing that it makes him lazily part his eyelids, which are so heavy and hooded that he's barely keeping them open. Kiba watches you completely melt into the kiss he's been waiting to happen for literal ages. You look so sweet that he can barely control himself.

His chest feels like it's going to explode, and not from the lack of air, but from all the emotions he's feeling all at once again.

Your hands are running through his chestnut hair; entire body squirming and writhing when he trails his own palm down your side. He stops at the hem of your skirt, eager fingers twitching from anticipation as he asks, "Want me to touch you, too?"

Your voice is breathless as you whine, "Please."

"Look at you, asking so nicely." He snickers quietly, the smirk on his mouth tricksy, "Didn't know you had it in you."

And before you can even come up with a witty reply to his teasing, he's kissing you yet again, his warm hand grasping and squeezing the plush flesh of your thigh. His touch is greedy and possessive. It makes your core burn even hotter with wildish need.

His hand squeezes your thigh so harshly that it burns. You're gasping into his mouth in response to the ache, before he inches higher up to the inner part. The noises you're making as you're parting your legs to help him gain better access are adorable, and are also the reason why his dick keeps twitching inside his pants. He can feel the surge of warmth rushing to his groin. You're making him hard just by sound alone.

He keeps circling the spot where you need him most as he plays with you; testing your patience. He's so close but yet so far, making the tension within you build up to the point where you can feel your skin tightening over your bones because of it.

"Kiba," you whisper, tugging on his hair to bring him closer, "st-stop messing around."

"Here?" His voice is nearly a gentle coo as he at long last rubs a digit over the damp spot of arousal on your pretty panties, completely disregarding your empty warning, "You want me to touch you here, cutie?"

"Mhmmm," you hum, dazed already from the sensation.

He taps the lace with a single rough fingertip, nearly making you purr from the way he's pressing against your clit over the fabric. "Take these off for me, then, pretty please?"

You don't have to be told twice. His request is so sweet that you're eager as ever as you reach underneath your skirt, hook your fingers around the waistband and tug the delicate lace down your legs.

Kiba's hand finds you the second your panties hit the floor of his room. Your eyelids flutter at the contact, but you somehow force them to stay open, so that you can watch his smug smile as he trails a fingertip over your soaking pussy; gathering the arousal you've been trying to hide from him the entire night.

His voice is a rough whisper as he traces lazy circles over your throbbing clit, "So wet for me, huh? It seems like you haven't been touched in a while."

"It's been a lonely couple of months, yeah."

"That silly boyfriend of yours ain't around anymore, hmm?"

"We br-broke up."

"Good. I was growing tired of seeing his stupid face on your Insta all the time."

All you can do is nod as you stare up at him, your bottom lip tucked underneath your teeth. With one side of his face splashed in the soft glow of the light coming from the desk lamp that's positioned on the other end of the room, Kiba looks absolutely stunning.

His amber eyes shine golden when your leg hooks around his hip, so that you can give more space to that big hand of his as he pleasures you.

He keeps toying with you, rubbing your clit in soft circles that give you just enough friction to make your legs shake, and for your pussy to clench around nothing. The desire to be filled up by him is making you foam at the mouth. You're on the verge of going completely feral.

"Kiba, c'mooon," you whine, "I thought I've told you to stop mes- Fuck...! Oh, god."

"Hm? What was that?" His words are a lazy drawl as he now starts to pump two fingers inside you, stroking your hot, sensitive walls, "Did you say something, sweetheart?"

You're tugging on his hair so harshly that it makes him hiss as you try to fuck yourself on his fingers, "Holy shit, that feels so good."

"Needy," he mumbles quietly, his thumb still stroking your clit. He curls his fingers and forces himself even deeper inside you, until you can feel the brush of knuckles against your walls. Despite your hushed pleas to go faster, he keeps the languorous pace; sending your mind into absolute overdrive.

Your hands are clumsy as they slide down his chest and dip to his belt buckle. You're growing frustrated from being such a klutz, until you at long last hear that satisfying click! as you unbuckle his belt on your third attempt. Quickly undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, you're eager to finally slip your hand into his black boxer briefs.

You stroke him over the fabric first. He pushes against you in an instant; chasing that extra friction as you try to cup and fondle as much as you can. You could have sworn that you feel him twitch as his breathing picks up its speed.

You're both looking down now, staring at your hands that are exploring each other's bodies.

The groan to leave the back of his throat makes you feel absolutely primal as you use one hand to tug the boxers down just enough for his cock to push free from the tight confines of his clothes, and the other to stroke him properly this time around.

The gasp to leave your lips is as astonished as your gawking. You've been wondering how he looked like underneath all those layers ever since you were fifteen and had gotten that first wave of hormones flooding your brain.

And as you're ogling at him so blatantly now, eyeing his throbbing cock and the pre-cum that's leaking out the tip, you realize that his size could best be described as nerve-wracking.

Your fingers are hesitant to wrap around him properly because of how tiny your hand looks compared to his dick, and yet you still do it anyway. Kiba's hand clamps around your own the moment you make contact, forcing you to tighten your grip and start pumping.

"Fuck," he whispers, eyes dark and murky at the touch, "that feels so good."

He's copied you word for word.

"Aha," you utter nervously, feeling him pick up his pace, "so, so good, Kib."

He feels big in your hand, the surge of blood making his dick so hard and throbbing that you're worried how on earth you'll make him fit if things actually escalate in that direction. If he doesn't calm down, he might just tear you apart with his cock.

The handjob you're giving him is as sloppy as the kisses you're sharing while he fingers you. It's so intimate and overwhelming; the way you're pushing against one another, writhing on his bed so much that you're both starting to sweat.

"Wanna fuck you," he groans into your mouth at some point, his words nearly incoherent from the way you're gliding your tongue along his front teeth, "wanna fuck you so bad, cutie."

"Do it," you gasp when he applies more pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes you squirm against him. The need you feel comes first before the nervosity. You'll deal with your wrecked insides after he fucks you silly.

"Yeah?" he murmurs softly, kissing your jawline when your head tips back from the pleasure, "You'll let me fill up that cute pussy of yours?"

Heat crawls up your neck at his question and your answer, "Yeah."

He quickens his pace. "Pound it, too?"

"Yes...!"

Kiba lets out a short, huffed laugh at your enthusiasm before he presses a messy smooch right against your panting mouth. The sound echoes throughout the bedroom, making you giggle in reply. His face is so red. You doubt that it's from the alcohol now.

Thick fingers leave you slowly, rubbing the sweet arousal all over your inner-thighs and clit as he says, "Turn around for me."

You're worse than an obedient slut, or a feral bitch in heat from how happily you follow his orders. As soon as your back is turned towards him, your gaze falls upon the mirror of the wardrobe that's right opposite you.

The sight of your body as it twists and recoils on top of the bed sheets is a pitiful one, but it's quickly obscured by the fluttering of your eyelashes as soon as you feel him rub his cock over your dripping heat.

His mouth is right next to your ear when he whispers, "You on the pill?"

"Mhmm."

"Okay," he says, kissing your neck lovingly. You can feel the graze of his sharp canines slide across your pulse point when he adds, "gonna fuck you raw, then. Nice and slow, to really savour the feeling of that lil' cunt."

You're arching your back in response, pushing your ass towards his hips while your spine is pressing flush against his heaving chest.

Kiba slowly aligns himself with your sopping, tight hole. Now, your whimper is more of a cry than a moan as he begins to stretch you out with every inch he's leisurely pushing into your warmth. Even he's surprised that he's patient enough to be this gentle, but he just cares for you so much.

Your upper lip quivers as tears brim your eyes from the burn to sear through you. His forearm flexes as it tightens around your middle to keep you from outright running away from him. The shifting of muscles you see in the mirror as his grip turns tenacious is a welcome distraction.

"You're taking it so well, cutie," he encourages you delicately, using every chance to push himself in deeper, "you gonna keep taking my cock, right? Gonna keep being good for me?"

You can't form words, so you only nod as he keeps forcing himself further and further between your walls, sighing at the friction and the tight, wet warmth to surround him. You're on the cusp of crying by the time he at long last bottoms out within you, groaning at the sensation of being balls deep inside your soaking cunt.

"Fuck," he curses, breathing quick, "I've wanted to do that since I was seventeen."

"Kiba," you whine his name out, arching your back again, "it-it's too much...!"

It really is. He's taking over your entire capacity, and you feel like you're about to burst.

"Nu-uh," he smirks, not taking no for an answer as he kisses your temple, "you just need a lil' time to get used to it. Imma stretch you out real nice, sweetheart. We're gonna have so much fun."

Your fingers tighten their grip on the bed sheet, until you're literally clawing at it when he pulls his hips back and slams them right back into you with a lewd squelching noise and a smack!

"Oh, god!" Your eyes are sent rolling into the back of your head when he does it again. And again.

"No god here, 's just me," he laughs quietly, gaining a steady rhythm when it comes to destroying your insides. You're leaking milky arousal right down to the hilt of his dick as he keeps slamming home into you, making you cry out profanities every two seconds or so.

The noises you're both making mix with your heavy breathing and the sound of muffled music that's still thundering downstairs without stop. You're both so invested into each other that neither you nor him can recognize the song that's playing in that exact moment. All that matters are his grunts and your soft moans. As well as the friction. Holy fuck, the friction.

"You're a sucker for this, aren't you?" He pants into your ear, ramming himself into you with even more force, "You love the way my cock fills up your cute cunt, and how it hurts when I make you take it; all of it."

"I do," you sob out, face contorting from the intense pleasure, "I lo-love it so much...!"

"Fuck yeah, you do, cutie," he grits out, teeth clenched, "fuck yeah, you do."

You can't see his face in the mirror, but just the sight of his big, rough hands roaming your front; greedily lifting your top until your bra is exposed, and groping at your tits without any kind of respect is enough to make you want to scream his name until the entire house could hear.

Luckily for you, he chokes you before you can do it, though the desire is still there. He's making you feel that good.

So good, in fact, that the heat in the pit of your stomach is becoming unbearable. You're on the verge of erupting into pure bliss from the mind-shattering orgasm that's coming up; lingering just around the corner. There'll be nothing left of you if he keeps this up. He'll make you blaze, until you're nothing but ash.

"S-So close," you manage through shallow breaths because he's barely allowing you to breathe while you're rolling your hips against his own for that extra push, "please, please, fucking please."

"Already?" He laughs at your fucked out state as his expert digits hook around your thigh. Lifting your leg without warning, the pressure within your core swells and grows bigger and bigger. His fingers dig into the back of the plush flesh before he trails them upwards; aiming them for your clit again.

"Kiba," you gasp his name once more, feeling his grip around your throat tighten in response as he pulls you even closer to his chest, "fuck, please, I-... Need it...! Need to cum so bad."

"I thought you said you liked to be teased a little?"

"Just do it, god fucking damn!"

"All right, all right!" He chuckles lowly, "So impatient, damn... Keep your leg up for me."

The moment his rough finger pads make contact with your demanding clit, your entire body spasms in his tight hold, fire licking at your skin with ferocious hunger. You can see it all in the mirror, the way the veins atop his tan skin protrude as he applies the pressure you need to become undone in the end.

"Ri-Right there. Fuck, yes...!" Your whispers are a trembling jumble of moans and whimpers. Kiba is chuckling quietly, his smile pressing against the back of your head as he keeps fucking you; keeps slamming you into goddamn oblivion. You're delicate like glass, but he sure as hell isn't going to handle you that way.

"Yeah?" He drawls tiredly, blushing at the lewd, wet sounds your lovemaking is producing. You're so wet that he's mesmerized in a way. Never before had a girl been this excited to have him. It's like a present. "Like this, baby?"

"Mhmm, like that."

"Gonna cum for me?"

"Wanna, yeah. So bad."

His laughter warms your very soul. "You're such a slu-"

"Kiba!" The sudden knock to come from the door makes you both stiffen, bodies turning rigid at the suspense of what's going to happen next. Your heart is pounding inside your ribcage, because the voice you've just heard sounds familiar. Especially when it says: "Yo, Kiba! You in there?"

Naruto.

The hushed exclamation of panic to leave you is quickly stifled by Kiba's palm that covers your mouth in a movement that's faster than lightning. He's panting now, leaning into your ear, going, "Shh, shh, shh. Keep quiet."

All you do to reply is make a muffled noise, fingers curling around his arm that's still keeping busy between your legs. He's never stopped fucking you; even whilst your brother is standing right on the other side of the door.

You're lucky Kiba had decided to lock it, because now you can hear the sound of the handle as Naruto tries it.

"Kiba," your sibling repeats, knocking again, "hellooo?"

The irritation to lace Kiba's voice is so profound that it sets your teeth on edge as he shouts, "What? I'm busy, man!"

"Busy? With what?"

"Fucking your sister."

Holy fucking hell.

Your eyes widen in shock, another muffled noise escaping your lips as you twist and turn to fight back against the tight grip he holds you in, but Kiba refuses to let you go. He fights right back, using his weight to press you flush against the mattress as he makes you roll onto your stomach.

His hands wrap around your wrists, shoving them both into the pillow to keep you from thrashing on top of his bed.

The moment he pushes his cock all the way into your warmth again, you go completely still. The new, deeper angle makes your breath stagger in the back of your throat. It takes all you have within you to not moan as loudly as you can as you try to crawl towards the headboard of the bed to pull yourself up.

He just can't stop fucking you, unable to release you from the cage his body has created around you. He's been waiting for too long; daydreamed and fantasized about this exact moment far too much to just allow Naruto to cockblock him yet again. He wants to see this entire thing to its end. Wants to see you cream on his dick, and to kiss you right after.

"You idiot," you cry out into the pillow, "why'd you tell him that?"

"Stop squirmin' around," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, "you wouldn't want your big brother to hear us, now would you? And besides, it's not like that moron is ever gonna take it seriously."

"Ha, wow, you're so funny!" Naruto snorts in that exact moment, his voice the epitome of intoxication and proving Kiba right, "Speaking of y/n: do you know where she is? It's been a while since I've last seen her."

"I dunno, I think she left early to go hang out with her friend, or some shit," Kiba replies, eyeing your writhing body underneath him with a smirk as he keeps pushing, and pushing, and pushing until it hurts, "now quit nagging me, will ya? You're annoying as fuck, and I don't really care where your sister is."

He's a good liar, at least. And a mean one, too.

When you whip your head to the side to look up at him, he's shaking his own head no, leaning in quickly to kiss your cheek.

"Didn't mean any of that," he whispers into your ear, peppering soft kisses to the corner of your jaw, "don't be angry with me."

All you do is roll your eyes and lift your ass up higher into the air by arching your back. Kiba chuckles at the sinful portrayal of truce between you, biting back a groan when he burrows himself so deep inside you that he's kissing your cervix with every thrust.

You're so close that your toes are curling in on themselves. As he picks up his pace again, trying to make it as silent as he can, you're biting into the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut from the euphoria to start overtaking you.

Kiba can feel your walls clenching around him; can feel them spasming and pulsating around his cock as your pretty cunt tries to milk him dry - tries to force the cum right out of him.

You look fucking beautiful like this; panting and drooling on his pillowcase as you attempt to stay quiet. It just makes him torture you even more. Especially when his fingers find your clit again.

You're clenching around him so hard that it nearly hurts as he strokes, pinches and spoils your sensitivity with his rough touch. He's completely dazzled from how well you're taking him. And as for you: all you can feel is his hand as it covers your mouth again just to be safe the moment before you're finally pushed over the edge.

And then, you're falling. Falling into true, utter bliss that only some good, ferocious pounding can bring.

He fucks you like an animal throughout your entire high, never once stopping in slamming home and torturing that sweet, sensitive spot deep within you - not even as your entire body shakes when you gush milky slick all over his cock and make it drip onto the bed sheet. It spurts and stains your inner-thighs; makes it even easier for him to abuse your cute pussy from how slick it is now.

"Ki-Kiba."

"Holy fuck, cutie," Kiba whispers, caressing your cheek lovingly as he keeps pounding; drilling into you, "you're so hot."

"Kiba!" Naruto shouts in that moment.

"What?!"

"Christ, man... Don't gotta be so grumpy all the time." He sighs, "Did she tell you which friend she was going with?"

Kiba looks down at you again, trying not to pay mind to just how fucking gorgeous you look with your skirt hiked up around your waist and sweat glimmering on your skin as you keep bouncing on top of the mattress everytime he pounds into you. His tongue flicks over the side of your neck as he murmurs, "Sweetheart?"

Your pupils are dilating inside your glazed irises when you look up at him. You're completely dazed from the high you've just experienced. Goddamn, he fucks like other men can only dream about fucking. He's worse than a beast. More insatiable than Greed itself. "Mm, Tenten... Tell him it's Tenten. She'll cover for me."

He grins at the lie before he calls out, "I think it was some chick called Tenten."

Naruto's reply is quick. "Ah, okay! That fits."

"Go away now, stupid!"

"Yeah, yeah! Going away now, you fuckin' grouch!"

You're both silent for a couple of seconds as you wait for Naruto to leave you alone before you finally allow yourself to giggle quietly.

Kiba joins in a moment later, snickering against your shoulder. He rests his forehead upon it and sighs. You can feel the layer of sweat sticking to his skin. He's completely drenched in salt, and so are you. Must be the clothes you were both far too impatient to take off.

"Fuckin' hell," he mutters quietly as you flip onto your back and wrap your legs around his waist with a sheepish grin, "he's always trying to cockblock me when it comes to you, I swear. Even without knowing it."

Your brow quirks in wicked amusement. "Oh? You've tried to hit on me before?"

Colour blooms on his tan face when he looks down at you and leans in to kiss you again. His arms are on both sides of your head as he looms above you. He's so big and bulky that he overtakes you completely. It makes you feel safe, instead of threatened.

There's just something peculiar seeing this completely new, unexplored side of him after knowing him for years. It's thrilling.

"I've wanted to text you and ask you out so many times," he mumbles, unsure if it's the alcohol talking or his heart, "I've been crushin' on you since I was a kid, but, uh... I was Naruto's friend first, ya know...? I didn't wanna make it weird between us."

"I get it, Kib." The tips of your noses are touching before he tilts his head to the side and kisses you again - this time deeply, slowly; sensually. The way he moves now is intimate and it means something deeper than it did before. You're both rocking alongside each other, trying to match each other's pleasantly laggard pace.

"Do you," he mumbles, staring down at you through hooded, heavy eyelids, "get it?"

"Yeah," you sigh, your own eyelids fluttering at the pleasant sensation of being so full, "I've been crushing on you for years, too."

"Ha, knew it."

"Don't laugh, now."

"Okay, okay."

The deep, raspy grunts to leave his mouth mix with your breathless gasps and quiet whimpers. Especially when he lifts your leg and places it on top of his shoulder, so that he can brand your fucking soul with his mark.

You're clawing at his damp t-shirt, trying to gain hold of him as much as you possibly can, so that you can keep him as close as he lets you.

"You're so fuckin' pretty, y/n."

"You're pretty, too."

"Can't call me handsome?"

"No."

The bashful chuckles to leave both of your mouths fade into silence when you kiss again, tongues tangling into something more gentle and sincere. He's so close to you that all you can breathe in is him. He makes you glow from within yet again; like your heart is being submerged in liquid sunshine.

You've missed him so much. He's been the one for all this time, after all.

"Fuck, that's it."

"Mm, yeah... So good."

"Gonna-... Gonna cum soon."

The headboard of the bed starts to slam against the wall as Kiba picks up his pace, every thrust becoming quick and hard when he at long last allows himself to reach his finish. His brow furrows when your panting mouth latches to his own hungrily, swallowing the groan he lets out as the heat to build up within his lower stomach finally spills right into your goddamn womb in the form of thick, warm ropes of cum that paint your walls entirely white.

His entire body feels like it's on fire. The release is as heavenly as was the build-up.

You follow a fraction of a second later, writhing underneath him in your own high as you cling onto him, leaking a mixture of your own juices of pleasure and his seed. It's messy, and hot, and so fucking overwhelming that you both feel slightly dizzy as you try to breathe in as much air as possible.

You're both soaked in sweat, but he still holds you so tightly that it hurts while you're both losing yourselves in each other, and you don't mind at all that your bones are nearly breaking in half as he keeps whispering sweet praises into your ear; telling you how good it feels, how goddamn proud he is of you.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs as he kisses you again and again, "such a pretty, clever girl."

You're still absolutely dazed, cunt clenching around him in attempt to gather every last drop of his warm cum, head tipped back in complete ecstasy as he's kissing your jaw.

You can't move. He's fucked you stupid, so it's no wonder that your only, rather brainless, response is:

"Happy birthday, Kiba."

#kiba x reader #kiba #kiba inuzuka #kiba x y/n #naruto smut #naruto fanfiction #kiba x you #kiba smut

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dayeongi · 1 year

Text

Some of the students of class 3-1 of Konoha Gakuen

Please don't repost or modify without my permission

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aaizawashouta · 15 days

Text

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.”

#kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka x you #kiba x you #kiba smut #kiba inuzuka smut #kiba inuzuka one shot #naruto fanfiction

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