#kinktober fics

[maximotts]

♱ 𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖒 ♱

♱ 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑: priest's daughter!Wanda Maximoff

I missed writing her and since it's been a year since @furys-eyepatch dropped this wonderful idea in my ask box, it felt right to start October off with one of my favorite squishies!

confessions of wanda maximoff AU. kinktober masterlist. 18+ only, minors dni. you don't need to add community labels, I've put adequate warnings below. wc: 3.9k. cw: innocent!Wanda/constantly horny!r. sex in a church. fingering. fucking from behind. strap-on use. begging. semi-public sex (no one is around). everything you shouldn't be doing in a place of worship. r thinks saying vulgar things to wanda and seeing her blush is peak entertainment.

“This is kinda the last place I want to be on Halloween, Wands..”

Wanda looked over her shoulder for the sole purpose of giving you an eye roll before continuing to tug you along through the back of the church. “I’m only picking up something for my dad, it’ll just take a second. I did say you could wait outside!”

“And hang around out there by myself? No way, it’s almost dark and there’s a cemetery!” You’d been sidetracked on the way to Natasha’s party, a texted errand from Wanda’s dad bringing you to his office in search of the large bags of candy he forgot to bring home with him. You didn’t mind honestly, the older man was always so kind it was hard to resist any of his requests— much like his daughter, the girl currently standing in front of you grinning.

She cooed at you in the confines of her father’s office, rubbing your cheeks while you swat at her hands. “Aww, are you afraid of ghosts? How cute..”

“Stop it, Wanda!” You scoffed, brushing her off and crossing your arms. So what if you were a little superstitious, who wasn’t? And you certainly didn’t need to let Wanda know; she’d hold it over you like she’d won the lottery. “Just hurry up so we can get out of here…”

Wanda kissed you quickly, soft and placating; an apology for teasing. She always saw you as someone fearless, it was nice to see a concept as harmless as ghosts rattle you. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything get us. If it makes you feel better, I’ve never seen anything creepy and Pietro and I used to spend tons of time here when we were kids.” 

Trailing off as she went about searching, you leant back against the wall with a pout, opting to watch Wanda while you waited. She had yet to change into her costume, insisting it be strictly for the party, but part of you theorized it was just to keep her outfit from her dad. Instead, her bunny costume lay folded up in the backseat of your car and her dress remained on, teasing you a little more each time she bent over. 

With the cooler weather, Wanda added tights to her wardrobe rotation, sheer black nylon hugging every curve from her ankles to her hips. You didn’t know what it was, but something about them left you drooling whenever you thought about the extra layer on your girlfriend for too long. In the past few weeks, you found yourself running your hands over her legs whenever she was close enough, often ending up playfully chided when you eventually grew too grabby during your shared lectures. But now, alone together with Wanda bent so far over the large wooden desk that you could catch just the barest hint of her underwear, you found it terribly hard to control your urge to grab her.

Hesitation gave Wanda enough time to shoot upright, victorious with heavy plastic bags in her tight grasp, “Candy acquired!” 

She made her way back over to you by the door, pressing her lips to the corner of your mouth as she passed, “Now let's get out of here before some big bad ghostie bothers you.” 

“I don’t think any ghosts want to be anywhere near us right now…” Try as you might, you couldn’t help yourself, eyes glued to Wanda’s backside as she led you back through the dark corridors behind the sanctuary. These weren’t proper thoughts right now, especially here, but it was Halloween… what better day to do something a little sacreligious.

“And why is that-” The end of her sentence was punctuated with a surprised oof, the shock of being shoved sideways into the wall cutting her short. Strong hands gripped her hips, balling the bottom half of her dress in your fists as you buried your nose into her long, dark hair. Instinct begged her to let the moan caught in her throat loose, but someone had to be level-headed here… or at least try to be. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I could ask you the same question, wearing this dress with no shorts and showing off.” You palmed her ass while she wiggled, sandwiched helplessly between you and the carved wood. Maybe you’d hoped that a simple bit of groping would satisfy whatever just took over, but it’d been wishful thinking; the more you touched, the more you wanted. “Did you know every time you bend over I can see your underwear? It’s not very nice to tease like that.”

“I-I didn’t know…” Wanda’s head was spinning, your sudden turn of mood rendering her flustered. Having never thought of herself in much of a sexual way, today’s lack of shorts was more of convenience rather than to tease. No matter how far she got from being a virgin, the intricacies of attraction and desire remained partially lost to her, always forgetting not only were you insatiable at times, but you wanted her. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” 

“No need to apologize, Wands, I’m not mad.” The last thing you wanted was to embed shame to how your girlfriend decided to dress; if anything, the uncharacteristic choice made the surprise more enticing. 

She shivered as you nibbled the shell of her ear, trembling more every second your hands continued roaming, exploring, groping her so shamelessly. “But you can make it up to me by letting me touch you.”

“We’re in a church…” Even so, it was just the two of you in the building, a fact confirmed by one quick glance out into the main room through one of the wall’s cutouts. All alone in the quiet, sacred space. Wanda knew she should protest harder, the mere idea should’ve been off putting, but it wasn’t. Nor was it the first time this scenario crossed her mind.

You’d be lying if you said the setting didn’t turn you on that much more and if Wanda’s shudder as you palmed over her covered sex was any indication, she wasn’t completely put off. Curious fingers poked and prodded, pressing against her in earnest until Wanda was gasping. “Why not? No one would know and it’d be fun.” 

You could practically hear the cogs in Wanda’s brain turning, working overdrive to come up with some answer where she could do the ‘right’ thing and keep those all too good sensations flowing from between her legs. “Maybe in the car?”

She’d expected the proposition to sound more convincing than it was, your contemplative hum against the nape of her neck showing Wanda she probably hadn’t swayed you either. Enticing as the car might’ve been in the past, it wasn’t what she yearned for right now. If you led her out, she’d follow and most definitely enjoy herself, but she’d think about this and what it could’ve been until this very rare opportunity presented itself again, if ever.

“Oh, but I want you right here, sweetheart. What if someone drives by and sees you outside? You know I like to keep you all to myself.” Wanda didn’t stop the hand sliding past the top of her stockings, fingers stretching the thin fabric in search of her panties— the second your fingertips grazed the embroidered cotton you groaned. 

Occasionally you caught her wearing the days of the week underwear she’d splurged on from some online boutique shop, something she bought with the mindset that no one would ever see them, but oh how wrong she was. Initially embarrassed for you to catch her wearing them, she was so relieved when you’d written it off as just another precious thing to love about her. 

“How are you always so pretty, babygirl? Makes it so hard to keep my hands off you,” Two inches further down, you discovered the beginnings of a wet spot, Wanda’s body giving her away despite her meekly suggested location change. “Especially when you get wet so easily. It’s my job to take care of that, being a good girlfriend and all.”

“I can’t help it,” she breathed out, trying to keep her breathing even for as long as possible. It was true, Wanda often found her thighs pressed together after a few touches or too long of a kiss; a fact she only recently discovered upon dating you. 

“I know, poor thing, let me fix it.” With your free hand holding the front of her dress, fingers splayed over her stomach, you held your girlfriend still as you moved the last barrier aside, sliding through her already slick folds as shamelessly as you would if you were in the privacy of your apartment back at home, laser focused on watching the girl in your arms go limp. 

The physical embodiment of a devil on her shoulder as you nudged her sweater out of the way, Wanda couldn’t possibly deny either of you further; the longer you waited, the higher the chance that someone else would wander in. Her cheeks burned red hot, unable to tell how much was from being manhandled mere feet behind the altar or the humiliation of how badly she wanted you to continue. “Please…”

“Please what, Wanda? Take you to the car?” Circling her clit almost did her in, knees buckling, hall echoing with the sound of the bags falling from Wanda’s hand to the floor. You let up and she whined pitifully, hips bucking in search for more of the fleeting pleasure. But if you were doing this, you needed your favorite part: her confirmation. “Use your words and I’ll give you whatever you want, baby.”

“Take me, right here…” She was nearly dizzy with need as she spoke, but the struggle was so worth it once your fingers began working her purposely now, promptly rewarding her acceptance. It was all too easy to forget any lingering worries and focus on her rapidly building orgasm, head and hands falling forward to brace herself as you slid two fingers into her. “Oh god, yes-”

You tutted mockingly, grinning into the crook of her sweet-smelling neck. “Now you know that’s not proper language for where we are. Mind your manners.” 

It was terribly hypocritical considering how lewdly you were stretching her open on your digits, letting her drip down your palm. You could pretty much count on her making a mess, but no matter how familiar of a sensation, it was all you could do not to fall to your knees and see for yourself; Wanda was the only person you’d ever felt so inclined to worship. “You feel so good on my fingers, sweet thing. I wish you could feel how tight you’re squeezing them.”

The poor thing did her best to keep up, but you were so fast, so determined to watch her walls come down in the place she should be doing the exact opposite… The most she could do was moan out her pleasure, heavenly music to your ears. “Can I cum? I’m so close-!”

“Go on, I want to feel you.” Wanda finished with a cry, muffled into her arm, still too afraid to be loud no matter how alone you might be. She shivered and shook, thighs trapping your hand in place as she rode out her orgasm. Even from behind Wanda was a sight, long hair falling over her shoulders as she tossed, hands clamoring for purchase anywhere on the wall she’d never look at the same way again. 

Satisfied with your work, thought she’d be done and more than ready to get out of here, but to your surprise, her hand grabbed your wrist before you could pull out. “What’s wrong, Wanda?”

“Nothing, it’s just..” Wanda couldn’t believe what she was about to say, but it’d be a terrible missed opportunity if she didn’t ask. Rubbing her backside against your front confirmed what she’d felt for a few seconds before, the telltale bulge in your pants providing Wanda the perfect setup to make one of her deepest fantasies a reality. She’d gone this far; what was a little more for the whole way. That’s what she kept repeating to validate this next want. “Do you think we could maybe, um..”

“Maybe what?” Her actions only gave you an inkling into what Wanda was hinting at, but surely she couldn’t be thinking what you thought she was. 

When it came to risky scenarios, you were constantly on the propositioning end, finding creative ways to present your new ideas for Wanda’s approval. What you’d just gotten away with was a giant push of luck, never in your wildest dreams did you ever imagine she’d ask for it. “The rules are you use your words. You have to say it.”

Of course you wouldn’t let her off easy, not when both of you were on the precipice of doing something so scandalous. She appreciated how dedicated you were to her enthusiastic consent, but if she thought about what she was asking too hard, she feared she might fizzle into nothingness. “I was thinking if you were up for it, we might go again?”

“Yeah? With my fingers?” You goaded her with a slow curl of your long digits, guiding her back until you could easily grind your clothed strap on against her, the sharpest squeak bubbling from Wanda’s chest. As you moved this time, you were slow, too slow, knowing as nice as it was, it wasn’t what she needed. Not when she remembered how mouthwateringly full she was a few days ago when you’d last had her in your lap.

“N-No,” Wanda shook her head, mousy and bashful. Her one advantage was facing away from you, fully aware she’d never have the courage to speak up that way unless you forced it out of her. “I meant with your strap…”

The words felt heavy on her tongue, as if someone else said them; anyone but the person she knew herself to be. But you heard them in her sweet, sheepish voice and something feral inside you snapped. You tore away from her unceremoniously, only for a second, just long enough to bend her a little farther, slapping Wanda’s ass once. 

“Fuck, I wish I could keep you here all night, just to see what else I can get a naughty girl like you to tell me what they’ve been dreaming up.” Ignoring her shout, you ripped a hole in her stockings, tearing wide enough that you could play with her from behind, shallowly dipping your fingertips into the hole you’d so cruelly left empty. 

“You’re all I want,” Neck straining over her shoulder to catch glimpses of you undoing your pants, Wanda’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the thick dildo set on your hips, only fluttering closed as you nestled the toy between her thighs, sliding it back and forth in an effort to wet it for Wanda’s comfort. Eager as you were, this one was bigger than she’d taken before and you’d never forgive yourself if you caused her any pain. “Hurry up before someone comes in..”

“Look at you, so impatient,” The tip teased Wanda awfully, drawing low moaned out pleas that were much too pretty to deprive yourself of so quickly. It wasn’t long until her wetness coated your strap, slick and ready for her as soon as you were ready to deliver. “Does my sweet girl want me to fill her up with my cock? Would that make you happy?”

“Mhm..so happy..” Something about being fucked left Wanda’s brain so.. empty, always coaxing her into a blissful relaxation. She supposed it had something to do with not only touch, but your words, sneakily dumbing her down until her only thoughts rested on you and when you’d give her what she waited for. 

Being taken in church was an idea she only allowed to appear in her deepest dreams, shaming herself afterwards for even daring to create such a thought. If anyone was going to give it to her now, it had to be you and to her credit, you’d started this. But logistics were way too much for Wanda to think about presently and, in a mission to make this impromptu sex as good for her as it already was for you, clearing her of any fears was your highest priority. “All I want to do is make you happy, Wanda.”

She knew that was true from the very first time you’d told her, those words only ever given with the most sincere honesty. Combined with the gentle patterns you drew over the sensitive skin of her lower tummy, Wanda let herself be lulled, trusting you to take care of her in the vulnerable state she so loved to fall into. 

“Spread your legs for me a little, just like that…” Everyone would be wondering where you were soon, Wanda’s father waiting on his Halloween candy delivery and Natasha for the drinks she asked you to get, but for this, for her? You’d say screw it all without hesitation to take your time and make this happen however she pictured. “Now beg. Confess to me, little church mouse.”

As you pushed the tip in and stopped, Wanda erupted into a fit of pitiful noises, fighting against your hold to feel that ever lusted after stretch, but you were stronger than her and wouldn’t budge. Being made to beg was equal parts hot and degrading; unfortunately you’d come to love to hear it, discovered it turned her on to do it, and now demanded it whenever the chance presented itself. “I need your cock, need you to fuck me.. please please!”

“There’s my good girl,” With one long push, you filled her completely, overwhelming the needy girl in all the best ways. You gave her just enough time to adjust, rutting into her tight pussy hard and fast as soon as possible. If she was wet before, Wanda was absolutely drenched now, making it all too easy to fuck into her as deep as you dared. “You look so pretty all fucked out, Wanda, begging to be fucked just outside of your dad’s office.. in a church, no less..”

“I.. I didn’t…” She truly hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, but she certainly hadn’t objected too heavily either, especially not to this. Each time your hips met Wanda thought she was done for, that coil in the pit of her stomach tighter than she could ever remember it being. Her entire body felt like a livewire, every touch you provided almost stinging. As soon as you found her neglected clit, Wanda was panting, chest heaving in the small, restricted space between her and the wall. 

She devolved into an incoherent mess, pathetic and helpless noises echoing throughout the otherwise silent halls. In a selfish act, you covered Wanda’s mouth, cementing the impossible to ignore wet sounds coming from your girlfriend to memory. “Do you hear how wet you are for me, baby? I would’ve fucked you earlier if I knew you needed me this much.”

Your teasing was too much for Wanda to bear; your crude words, being forced to listen to how aroused she was. Part of her still chalked this up to some insanely vivid dream. The moment your fingertips slid past her lips Wanda was sucking on them, albeit sloppy and lazily, reflecting how little focus she had as your strap hit her at the perfect angle. She was losing it fast, muscles threatening to give out the closer her second orgasm came. “P-Please, can I-”

“Of course you can. Poor thing, you just need to cum so badly,” Wanda’s pulse raced under your lips, but you kissed her there so sweetly it nearly felt like a joke. Below, your hips moved at a torturous pace, quick and brutal in time with the circles you rubbed into her almost too sensitive bud. If you could just see her come apart one more time- “Cum for me, I’ve got you.”

Wanda’s jaw fell open, spit covered fingers giving her slight reprieve while she bucked and twisted wildly, only managing to stay upright with the help of your strong arms. Fucking her through it all quickly became more for your pleasure, bottoming out to let you grind your own clit against the back of the toy at the join of your hips, clinging to Wanda’s trembling form as you came with a groan into the back of her hair. “I would’ve helped…”

“Trust me, you did more than enough,” you mumbled, nibbling the shell of her ear as you caught your breath. You’d never given much thought to the joys of a joint orgasm until Wanda, finding something special in sharing your highs. Always one to prove how useful she could be, Wanda loved being allowed to touch you, to see how good she could make you feel before you reached your end, but this time she was in no state to do so nor did you need it; watching her was more than you would’ve ever asked for. “You did such a good job, I’m so proud of you.”

Wanda wanted to say something back, couldn’t remember if she’d actually spoken out loud or not, but also couldn’t focus hard enough to think that deeply at the moment. She felt like she spent an eternity there, swimming in some cloud high above the church while your touches turned gentle, stroking over her hips and stomach until Wanda finally started to settle down. 

Thankfully the church remained empty so you let her take her time, holding Wanda steady while you pulled out. Careful as you were, she still whimpered, body worn out and tired, “Shh, you’re okay, pretty girl.”

Turning around let Wanda slump against your front as you leaned into the wall, green eyes hazy and heavy. She drew you into an almost sleepy set of kisses, thanking you with sticky, lip gloss smudge marks along your jaw… until she remembered exactly where she was. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we just did that.. We have to get out of here now!” 

Fumbling terribly, your girlfriend snatched the fallen candy bags from the floor in one hand and your arm in the other, dragging you as fast as her strength would let her. “Be careful, Wanda, or you’ll trip!” 

“I’m fine, just open the car!” She didn’t know if she should be mortified or terrified, praying to every power in the universe no one ever found out about this. Wanda’d never sped out of church in such a flurry, as if the quicker she moved, the longer she could escape the anxiety gaining on her. 

Unfortunately for her, you had no such issues and her inner turmoil only made you laugh. “Don’t forget you liked it. I’m pretty sure you were the one begging loudest-”

“You made me!” To you, Wanda would deny her enjoyment for a while and she’d never think of doing it again, but as silence settled in the car and you turned your attention to the road, she struggled to keep still and not squirm too obviously as she replayed your Halloween havoc.

#if you saw this a few minutes ago no you didn't #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff smut #kinktober fics #maximotts kinktober #motts writes.

[marvelcriminalhoe]

Mavs Kinktober

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Handmaiden! Reader 

“Touch me there. Right there.”

Warnings: Power imbalance (Which could lean towards dub con but reader is entirely willing.) Talks of political marriages. Oral (Fem receiving.) Kissing. Groping. Declarations of love. 

word count: 3,227

You’ve known Princess Rhaenyra for years, being one of her handmaidens since you were just a mer tween. Your mother was one of her mothers maidens and when you were real young, you and Rhaenyra would play together in the gardens as your mothers watched. 

You were from a low house, not having place in court,  but it never bothered you. Until Alicent Hightower started whispering in Rhaenyra’s ear about how being seen with you was a travesty, a mockery of the courts hierarchy. Of course, that didn’t stop Rhaenyra from wanting you around, but she was a princess, the heir to the thrown, which means she does need to look at such things with a firm eye. So her plan was to make you one of her maidens. No one could say anything about your friendship or how much time you spent with each other if you were one of her maidens. 

You didn’t have a problem with this either. You knew you would eventually be a handmaiden for one of the lady’s of court, and you were glad it was for someone you viewed as a friend, rather than someone like Lady Alicent, who probably would have made your life a living hell, more so than she already did. 

You were glad you were able to still be friends with Rhaenyra, to be there for her when her mother died, when Lady Alicent wormed her way into the kings bed, wedding him and becoming Rhaenyras good mother and effectively ruining their friendship forever. 

Rhaenyra cried on your shoulder for days, talking of the betrayal she felt, the sadness, the grief of losing someone she thought of as a sister. You tried to comfort her as best as you could. The entire situation was bizarre to you, how someone like Alicent, who you thought was a real friend to Rhaenyra, regardless of how she treated you, could actually do something like that, but regardless, the situation made you and Rhaenyra a whole lot closer. She made you promise you would never betray her, confiding in you that she felt you were the only person she could trust in this kingdom, and you vowed to never break that promise. 

“And then he says he wishes for me to start courting soon, to announce in the next few moons who I wish to marry!” Rhaenyra retells of the meeting she had with her father earlier that morning. 

You send her a glance through the mirror as you continue to brush her hair, “Nyra, you knew you would always have to marry, this should not come as a surprise.”

“It’s not.” She scoffs, turning around in her chair to face you head on, making you drop the brush to your side. Her eyes are angry, but the pout on her pink lips shows she is also feeling dejected, “I just wish he did not force me to spend time with a magnitude of Lords I will never choose.”

You raise a brow at her as she continues to pout of her duties, you feel for her, you do. Although you come from a low house, and it does have some disadvantages, it also comes with some advantages, like getting to marry outside of political advancement, “Are there any Lords you would choose?” Already knowing the answer, your friend is not shy about her distaste of the courts high men. 

Rhaenyra snorts, very un-lady like, but you don’t reprimand her.  It’s only the two of you in her chambers and you enjoy how carefree she is in moments like this. You know the stress she is under, the weight of the realms on her shoulders. You feel special, knowing you get to see her so casually, easygoing, that she can feel that way in your presence. 

“I don’t want a Lord.” She stands, going over to her large bed and throwing herself down, looking up to her ceiling as she huffs, “I am to be a queen, why would I waste my days being some wife to a lowly Lord.” 

Her words bring a chuckle to your lips, “I doubt whatever Lord you marry will be lowly.” 

She sits up, looking to where you’re still standing by her vanity chair. Her soft silver locks you just brushed meticulously down her back, now stick up in a few places, “Who says I will marry a Lord?” “A common man then? What ever will the court say?” You question her, only really in jest, setting the brush down and organizing her vanity back to order. 

Rhaenyra doesn't answer you, choosing instead to watch as you place everything precisely. You've always taken to making sure everything is structured correctly, her wardrobe, vanity, baths. Taking to being in charge of everything here so she can just relax, be at ease in her quarters. You are her greatest companion and the person she feels is most loyal to her. She also feels most loyal to you, how you care for her, show her nothing but fondness and warmth. Rhaenyra calls your name, waiting until you look over to her to speak, patting the space next to her on her bed, “Come sit with me, you work far too much.” “I’m supposed to work, Nyra.” You roll your eyes, but walk over to her bed and sit next to her like she asks, “It’s why I’m here.” 

“No,” She draws out, an over exaggerated pout on her lips, “You’re here to keep me company.” She flops her head down in your lap as you laugh, “And run your hands through my hair.” “The hair I just brushed?” You tease, but your hands are already combing through her locks, the softness of the silver strands is light through your fingers, and you can smell the jasmine from her bath oils. 

Rhaenyra smiles up at you, eyes bright with admiration, “Well it is your job, is it not?” “You are a brat.” You pull one of her strands of hair, making her hiss out. She pops up fast, making you jump back with a yelp, only for her to pounce on top of you, the smirk of a dragon on her lips as she stares down at you, “Now who's being a brat? Do you know the penalty for pulling a princesses hair?” “Are you going to put my head on a spike?” You fake fear. 

“Your head is far too pretty for a spike.” She puts more of her body weight onto you, affectively laying on you, clothed chest to clothed chest. 

You try to move out from under her, flustered by her brave comment. It’s not the first compliment she's given you, she doesn't shy away from giving you kind words such as the ones she just said, but that doesn't stop you from being flustered each time you hear them, “Rhaenyra let me up.” You tell her, trying to push her off of you, but your efforts are in vain, as she grabs your wrists and slides them up the bed above your head, “What’s wrong? Don’t like being underneath me?” Her words make you heat up, trying to pull your wrists free but that makes the silver haired girl above you tighten her grip, her nails slightly digging into your skin, you huff when you're unsuccessful, “Rhaenyra, let go, if someone walks in—“

“Are you trying to tell the princess what to do?” She tsks at you, dropping her face to your neck where you feel her warm breath, goosebumps appearing on your skin, “Perhaps you should be punished.” “Rhae—“ You try again, your voice a stutter of nerves, affectively turing to a gasp as you feel her plump lips come in contact with your throat. You feel the twitch of them as a smirk threatens to reaper, even if you cant see her face. A small whimper releases past your own lips when you feel her teeth nibble lightly on the tenderness of your neck. 

She places small kisses up towards your jaw, pulling back to look in your eyes, her face one of teasing, but her gaze one of lust and desire, so abundant in her stare it sends a wave of anxiety through you, “That sound was almost as pretty as you. Are you sure you wish for me to stop?” 

“Nyra please.”

“How do you expect me to stop when you beg so nicely?” She mocks you, placing delicate kisses on your cheeks. 

“This is unfitting,” You say, but your voice is one of waver, you don’t have much fight left in you, not when her lips feel so good upon your skin, “Your reputation would be tarnished if someone were to walk in, as would mine, no matter how low it already is. What Lords would marry you with the rumors that would start?” 

Rhaenyra pulls back, her lilac eyes narrowed at you in an intense glare, “I already told you, I don’t wish to marry a Lord.” 

“This is serious Rhaenyra!”

“I am not joking.” Her tone turning forceful and hard. You've heard her speak this way before, during court when someone says something she disagrees with, when she comes back and rants of her meetings with her father. Her temper can become as dangerous as the beast she rides, but it’s never been directed to you, not until now that is, “I am not going to marry some Lord, some man, that I will never love. I refuse. I will not be some brood mare to give him offspring.” 

Her face becomes assertive, powerful, she’s so full of confidence in next words she speaks that chills arise on your skin for a whole new reason, “I will have a wife of my own, one of my own choosing. One who will take care of everything around me as I take care of the realm. What good will a man do me, as I am queen? I need a woman, a wife, by my side as I rule.” 

You imagine this is how she looks during her meeting at grand court, meetings you do not attend as only a select few high members are allowed. Her confidence is admirable, something one stands in awe of, though, you imagine she’s not called the realms delight for nothing, people are constantly standing in awe of her. 

She lets go of your wrists to cradle your face in her hands, your heart beating faster as she caresses your cheeks with her thumbs, “A wife that I will take care of, just as she has taken care of me all these years.” “Nyra.”

Its just a whisper, because truly, you don’t know what to say. What can you say to all of this? It’s not that you don’t reciprocate her feelings to some extent, you've always felt your fondness for her was more than a fondness for a friend, but you never lingered on the thought, there was no reason to, nothing would ever come from it. Even when you would notice the soft touches she would give you, the longing looks, or the sweet words, you never thought too much into it. 

You feel absolutely stupid now for not letting yourself linger on those thoughts. 

“Will you let me take care of you?” She questions, looking into your eyes so sincerely that it would take your breath away if she hadn't already done that by just merely existing. 

“I—I don’t know…” She’s patient with you, something you are entirely grateful for as she nods at your words, “You don’t know if you want me to take care of you? Or if you want me?” “I want you.” Your voice still low, but filled with so much revelation that it brings a bright smile to her face as she pushes some of your hair back with one hand, petting you softly, “I just— I don’t know ho— I’ve never…” She just continues to smile down at you, eyes full of the same tenderness as her touches, “Can I teach you then?” 

The nod you give is all she needs to connect her lips with yours, her velvet lips dominating your tentative ones is a dance of desire and passion. You grab her hips with your hands, needing something to ground you in this whirl of emotions, your nerves fluttering away as she pulls back, a gleaming smile on her face, bigger than you had ever seen before. 

“Seems you don’t need my teachings after all.” She teases, laughing as you swat at her arm, embarrassed by her teasing, but also relieved by it, the soft ordinary of her banter making it feel as though its just another day by her side. She sighs softly as the both of you gaze at one another, “My heart has craved to do that for years.” You frown at the melancholy in her voice, the sadness that lingers in the joy, the yearning for not moving in this direction before now, “Then why have you waited?” 

“I did not know if you desired me in the same way.” Her words utterly confuse you, “Who wouldn't desire you?” 

“Then why have you not taken any action toward that affection?” She questions. 

Your earlier words are repeated, “I don’t know how, Nyra. I’ve never been with a man, let alone another woman. I wouldn't even know where to begin.”

“I can show you.” She tells you earnestly, with such grave sincerity all of your quarrels are driven away before they can truly take root in your mind, “All you have to do is ask, and I will show you the world,ñuha jorrāelagon.” 

You've spent enough time with her over the years that, although you still can’t speak it fluently, you know enough Valyrian to understand her words, my love. They strike some sort of chord in you, driving away any lingering nerves, leaving only lust and devotion in its place. 

“Then show me how to please you, my queen.”

Your words have the same effect on her as her words had on you, if the growl she let out is anything to go by, smashing her lips on yours in a much more ferocious pace. Your hands make home again on her hips, uncertain of what exactly to do with them, as hers, much like the confidence she has in her words, have no problem mapping your body out over there clothes. 

“I wish to feel you without confinement, dōna riña.”  Sweet girl. The moniker is a new one, but one that sends warmth to your heart as her hands continues to roam. 

She whines as you pull away from her, earning a bite to your lower lip as she concedes, a warning really, “You must teach me first, I wish to please you.” “But I can teach you as I please you.” She kisses down your neck, sucking lightly on your exposed collar bone. You softly grab her face, forcing her to look at you, “Please Nyra.”

And damn you, you know she wont say no. She can almost never deny you, but especially when your begging is so sweet. She pulls herself away from you, with much resentment, standing at the foot of the bed, and starts to remove her dress, turning around for you sit up and undue the laces in the back. 

The heavy fabric drops to the floor, leaving her bare to you. You’ve helped her in her baths before, but those have never felt as intimate as this. 

Rhaenyra smirks as she pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you slowly, your eyes taking in all of her. She's like a hunter stalking her prey, and you finally understand why people say Targaryens look like their dragons. She is fierce, and strong, and entirely magnificent. Just as her dragon is. 

“Do you enjoy what you see?” She raises a brow at your staring. You can only nod, prompting her to take one of your hands in her own, bringing it to the middle of her chest, right above her heartbeat, “You can touch me, you know. It’s only fair, since my heart beats for you.” 

“Show me.” You speak with such desperation to satisfy her properly that she takes pity on you, moving your hand to her breast, her voice dropping to honeyed charm, words filling you with ease, “You do not need to fret, for I am already fulfilled by you, anything more is added delight.” This time you're the one to bring your lips together, your kiss one of gratitude and joy. You roll over till she's underneath you, pulling away when the both of you can go no longer without air. Chests heaving with breaths. 

She places one more fleeting kiss to your lips before grabbing your hand again, “Ready?” “Yes.” You nod, watching as she delicately moves your hand down her stomach to her most sensitive spot, “Touch me there. Right there.” She instructs you, helping you press down on her sensitive core, moving your fingers in soft circles. 

As your pace steadily increases, Rhaenyra lets go of your hand, allowing you to continue on your own, her eagerness present by the wetness growing. 

“You’re doing so good.” She moans, bringing your eyes from her core to her face. She’s watching you possessively, “Taking such good care of me.” 

You move forward in order to kiss her lips, making sure to keep your circular moments as you do. 

“Do you wish to learn more?” She questions. “Teach me all of it.” You beg. You want to know everything, every way to bring her happiness, to have her quivering underneath you in ecstasy. 

“Where your fingers are,” She gestures to your movements, “Use your mouth.” 

You move to position yourself between her spread legs, glancing up at her face. Her reassuring smile brings you courage as you swipe your tongue through her folds. The moan it draws from her is heavenly, and you want nothing more than to listen to it again, driving you to lick her again. 

And again. 

And again. 

You don’t need any instruction when you take her clit into your mouth, sucking on it benevolently. Your rewarded by her loud moan, and the tight grip she has on your hair, pushing her hips up into your face more as her back arches. 

“My sweet girl.” She moans, “Always taking care of me. Doing so well for me.” You continue to lick and suck as she moves her hips along, enjoying the slight pull she does to your hair and moaning into her, “I’m going to come, my love.” You don’t let up as her high takes over, choosing to keep your pace as she goes through it. You’re rewarded for it as she lets go of your hair, grabbing your face to pull you up towards her. She looks absolutely blissful, and you don’t think you've ever seen her as beautiful as you do right now. 

“You did so good, dōna riña.” She caress your face, kissing you sweetly. You pull back, smirking down at her, “I think you’re the sweet one.” 

She laughs at you before her eyes turn wicked, turning over so she's above you, “Ivestragī īlva find hen qilōni iksis tolī dōna ñuha aderī naejot sagon ābrazȳrys.”

Let us find out who is sweeter then, my future wife. 

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #house of dragon #rhaenyra #targaryen #kinktober fics #handmaiden reader #rhaenyra my beloved #house of dragon fic

[1001scoganmusings]

Sacraficial heart

A/N: Kicking off kinktober on the lords day with the most elusive and coveted kink of them all, a loving and healthy relationship where both people are simps for each other.

P.S, Trying out a black hat POV. Idk what do you think?

Demons don’t go to heaven.

That is the law. Not that I ever cared. Never being one to take orders from a capricious and uncaring lesser being. Though perhaps the angels were on to something with the whole giving up power and control bit. And while I know I’ll never enter the pearlescent gates and be welcomed in to eternal paradise by a chorus of angels; if that was even how those things go. It was in these moments alone with my beloved that I could swear I was already there.

Pleasure steadily mounting higher and higher, engulfing me like a blazing inferno, searing my very flesh, and imprinting itself on to me both body and soul.

Too much. It was too much. And yet, not enough.

My legs held wide open and bent back, knees touching my chest as Flug drove his cock in to my slit hard and fast. “Black hat.” moaned flug, his fingers digging into the soft tender flesh of my thighs. His eyes half lidded and darkened with desire. Sensual and soft lips parted releasing some of the most filthy and erotic noises that would make even the most devious of sinners blush.

Why had I denied himself this for so long? Why did I ever fight his love? It was inconceivable. How could I have ever not wanted this? How foolish. How down right criminal and selfish l had been. To think I might’ve gone my whole immortal life without ever really knowing, truly knowing what it was to be baptized and reborn. To be made wholly by the love of another. No not another. By flug. God’s most perfect creation.

I lifted my head, groaning as I looked down at the place where we were joined. Watching as Flug’s cock, shiny and wet with my love juices, plunged in to me, disappearing over and over again in to my slit with wet squelching noises; completely drenching the dark brown patch of curls at the base of his cock. My own cock slapping against my stomach with a wet smack, pre dribbling out from the weeping head, forming a small puddle that was slowly spilling on to my stomach an up towards my chest with every thrust. What a mess we were making.

“So tight.” whined Flug pushing his damp sweaty hair out of his eyes. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He babbled nonsensically. “Never. Never wanna stop fucking you. So perfect. Mine. Your all mine. Your. all. fucking. mine.” He groaned. I grit my teeth, my toes curling as he punctuated each word with a deliciously deep thrust.

The possessiveness in Flug’s voice was quickly unraveling my sanity even more than before.

“Yours, all yours, only yours.” I moaned softly. “No one else could ever do. Never. It is you and you alone who has my heart.” His gaze turning soft and adoring as he looked down upon me.

Releasing my death grip on the sheets to reach up with shaky hands, wrapping my arms around Flug’s neck, and pulling him down, needing to feel him still ever so closer.

Lips so soft and warm pressed themselves against my own. Flug’s tongue probing the seam of my lips gently asking for entrance. As if I would deny this man anything at this point. Flug only but needed to ask and I would happily rip out my own beating heart and serve it on a silver platter like the love sick fool that I had become.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, all teeth and tongue, but I didn’t care, couldn’t be bothered to. The warm wet glide of our tongues against one another was making me dizzy with need.

Only for Flug and Flug alone would I allow this. Allow myself to be held. Treated for the first time in my entire life as something fragile. Something to be cherished and, dear god dare I say it? Something, worthy of love.

A lump formed in my throat at the thought. How long had I endured alone? All these millennia roaming the world with a protective wall around his heart. Convincing myself all the while that love was nothing more than a wretched and foul thing meant to control and prey upon weak willed and mindless creatures.

How truly delusional and demented demons are. Using any and all excuse to cope with the ache of loneliness lest it drive us mad. It would’ve made him laugh if it wasn’t so pathetic and simultaneously true.

To think this man, this brilliant and wondrous divine creature above him had chosen him. Chosen Him; to bestow his love upon. To spend what precious little time he’d been given, with him. With him.

His. Flug was his.

Mine.

Mine.

All mine.

Black hat broke the kiss, lips still pressed against Flug’s and whispered, “I love you.”

“Again. Say it again.” demanded Flug.

“I—I love you.” stammered black, silently cursed Flug for making me stumble over my words like an idiot with those loving eyes of his.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you you damned dolt. How many time must I repeat—“

Flug slotted his mouth against my own, delving his tongue in to my mouth and kissing me fiercely once more as he sped up his movements. Dear god it felt as if this man was going to break me. I secretly hope he does. He’s already ruined my heart and soul. What more would it mean if he ruined my body so that no other could bring me to the heights of ecstasy as he could.

My hands threading themselves in Flug’s hair pulling him ever so closer, deepening the kiss. My heart doing somersaults in my chest as our tongues met again.

“Cum jefecito. Cum on my cock, now.” Slurred flug as he kissed me deeply, snaking a hand down between us to stroke my cock in time with his thrusts.

The double sensation being too much, driving me over the brink. My body going taught and ridged as my orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave. I broke the kiss as a loud terrible inhuman cry left my throat. Thick ropes of cum one after the other shot all over Flug’s hand and stomach. “So cute, so cute. God I love you. I love you, Iove you, I love you.” He chanted, chasing his own release, a few more thrusts before he jilted himself. His warm cum making me shiver as he filled me.

Sleek black tentacles with tiny mouths sprouted from black hat’s body. They slithered down Flug’s legs and arms, and up over his back caressing and showering any pieces of skin their mouths could reach with kisses of adoration. Some sucking marks and leaving bites of their own.

“Your so cute boss.” panted flug, gazing down at him with nothing short of pure love and affection before kissing him again tender and sweet before collapsing on top of him and snuggling into his chest.

More immortals lose themselves chasing the ever fickle love of humans. I knew this. Hell I’d bore witness to it time and time again. Laughing and jeering at others of my kind as they fell to their demise from chasing the ever elusive beast that was a human’s heart. Oh how cunning and cruel a mistress irony was indeed.

And still here I was ever the fool laying, quite literally, at the feet of said proverbial beast. Welcoming with open arms not only the ruin and destruction of my good reputation as a demon but the desolation of my heart as well should flug ever decide to crush me, hurt me so detrimentally that I might not ever recover.

But it was too late. I was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Flug. No other would do. My traitorous heart was set.

“My heart is not but a sacrificial lamb for slaughter, to be devoured by the insatiable hunger of your love.” I whispered against flug’s temple as he lay in my arms already fast asleep, our bodies a tangled heap of limbs. “For not even death can part us now beloved. And god help any who think to try.”

#black hat #kinktober #villanos #paperhat #fic recs #fan fiction #monster smut #teteraphilia #elderitch horror #romance #kinktober fics #villainous #flug slys #dr. flug #black hat x dr flug

[thefreakymunson]

Day 1: Praise

CW: Soft dom!Eddie, fem reader, praise (obvi), use of "Daddy", unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m and f receiving), A/N: This will be a series of semi daily smut posts. If you want to be added to a taglist for my Kinktober fics, shoot me a message and i'll add you!

When you came through the front door of the trailer, Eddie could see the stress elucidated on your face. You sat your bags down and huffed, nearly on the brink of tears as you leaned back against the door. You had told him earlier on your lunch call that it had been a bad day at work and by the looks of it, it had only gotten worse.

You needed him – needed to feel him and have him remind you that everything would be okay. This was just a passing thing that would fly over soon. You were still getting used to the job anyway.

“Come here,” Eddie said as he made his way over to you, opening his arms and as soon as you were wrapped in him, you melted like you always did.

His arms wrapped even tighter around you and he soothed your hair back away from your face, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you needed before you even said it or asked. After a few minutes of him holding you, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a leather collar, the heavier one.

You needed to slip and he knew just the way to help you.

“This is your favorite, yeah?” he asked as he stepped behind you.

“Reminds me of your hand around my neck.” You said softly, tilting your head to the side to let him fasten the metal clasp.

His hands trailed down your sides, tickling and illicting goosebumps over your skin. His finger tips drifted under your shirt, sliding up until he was groping your chest, squeezing and feeling you arch into him. He bit back a chuckle when he watched you fervently begin to unbutton your blouse and then your hands cupping his over your chest as you pushed your ass back against his hardening cock, a soft whine escaping your mouth as you felt him.

“So impatient tonight, hm?” He chuckled in your ear as his hands squeezed again.

“Eddie,” you whimpered.

“I know, princess.” His voice was gruff, “I know you can’t wait but we’re just getting started.”

Warm, wet kisses were left behind your ear and down to your shoulder blade as his hands traveled from your chest, down to your stomach, and then dipping into the front of your jeans. Two prying fingers rubbing your slit through the thin fabric of your panties, moaning into your ear as he felt your puffy lips part for him. His fingers pressed against your clit and your knees would’ve buckled if it wasn’t for his other arm wrapped around your waist.

“You’re soaked already, baby.” He mumbled in your ear, “Such a good girl for me when you’re needy.”

Your hips rocked against his hand, trying to create a deeper friction, but his hands were pulling out of your pants just as quick as they dove in them. You watched as he walked around you and started unbuttoning his jeans and just like you were trained, you sunk to your knees in front of him, watching as he pushed his jeans and boxers down just enough for his hard cock to spring free. Your fingers intertwined behind your back and your mouth immediately opened as he stepped in front of you, his cock in his hand as he stroked himself off.

“You’re such a good little slut for me, aren’t you? I don’t even have to say anything anymore.” He sighed softly as he looked down at you, tapping the fat head of his cock against your tongue twice.

Your tongue flattened out against the bottom of his cock as you sucked him into your mouth, feeling his hand on the back of your head as he guided you. You wanted – no needed to touch yourself so bad, your pussy was throbbing by this point. His soft moans filled the quiet house along with the obscene noises of him fucking your face.

“So pretty,” he panted as he thrust entirely into your mouth, holding your head down around him as he felt you wretch around him, “Look at you...eyes all watery and red, mouth stretched around my cock...such a good girl for daddy.”

His free hand came down and pet the top of your head as you felt him thrust impossibly further down your throat, the black dots starting to seep into your vision from lack of oxygen. He pulled you back by your hair, letting you catch your breath, and stepping back to watch you.

He squat down in front of you, your eyeliner running down your cheeks as he smirked, spit dripping from your mouth. His hand continued to jerk his messy cock off, covering it in your spit and his precum, before bringing his hand up and smearing it all over your face.“You’re already such a mess, baby...a pretty, filthy, little mess.”

He stood back up and slipped his fingers inside of your collar, using it to tug you up to your feet. His mouth was on yours, tasting himself on your tongue as his hands unbuttoned your jeans and pushed them down, along with your panties. He helped you step out of them and then disrobed himself of his own before nodding to the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen.

“You know what to do, baby.” That calm tone was back to his voice, soothing and quiet. Exactly what you needed.

He stood behind you as you bent forward, gripping the bar as your head rested down against the cool surface. A welcomed feeling in the hot trailer.

He squat down behind you, his hands shoving your thighs open wider as his tongue slid through your soaked folds. It was borderline embarrassing just how wet you were. You could feel it slipping down the insides of your thighs and you knew his chin was covered in your arousal as well. There was nothing quiet about the way Eddie ate you out, the absurd sounds of his slurping and sucking filling the quiet trailer, the slick sounds of his fingers curling right against that certain spot deep inside of you.

You were cumming in a matter of minutes, white knuckling the counter as you pushed back against his mouth. Your moans were muffled by your arm that you were biting into, trying to remain quiet but that wasn’t good enough for Eddie.

He wanted to hear you.

He was standing behind you, pressing his cock inside of your sensitive pussy as he pulled your arms behind you and gripping your wrists together in one large hand. He pressed himself as deep as he could, pinning your body between the counter and himself hard enough to where you knew there would be bruises.

He draped his body over yours, pinning you further down as he roughly thrust inside of you.

“You’re always so fucking tight,” he panted into your ear, “And so fuckin’ warm, Y/N...god, you’re going to drive me crazy.”

“That’s my good girl,” he panted in your ear, his thrusts speeding up quicker the louder your moans got,“Taking daddy so well.”

The quiet room was filled with the slick sound of you taking him, bodies colliding, and quickened breaths as you pushed back against him. His free hand snaked down to clit, rubbing quick circles as he felt you begin to pulse around him again, earning a loud moan from you.

“There you go, baby.” He panted, “So pretty when you scream for me like that. Pretty little pussy -fuck.”

Your orgasm coursed through your body, your release slipping down the inside of your thighs. He pressed his face into your shoulder blade as he came, his body tensing as he filled you up, lazy thrusts fucking you deeper into the counter.

He pulled out of you, watching as your pussy visibly pulsed from the intensity of your orgasm, his cum slipping out of you. When you didn’t move from your spot on the counter, he walked to where your head was resting and bent down, tucking your stray hairs behind your ear.

“You okay, baby?” He asked softly, fingers ghosting over your heated cheeks.

“Perfect,” you gave him a satisfied smile.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Stranger things #Stranger Things fanfic #Eddie Munson x fem! reader #smut #kinktober fics #thefreakymunson

[gimmeurtmi]

kinktober day five — hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: friends to lovers (kinda), kinktober series, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, nude drawings, fingering, masturbation, use of “pretty”, lmk if i forgot anything!

inspo: uni student hyunjin but make it art

kink: exhibitionism

{ wc: 2522 }

It was a strange thing to be offered, but it was also flattering to be seen as a suitable candidate. The art department had reached out to a number of students to act as models for their sketch class—and you were one of them. It probably helped that your best friend, Hyunjin, was taking that class and you were sure he was the one to mention your name first.

He had asked you a few times to model for him and the only time you said yes was when you found a thrilling show to watch while you modelled; it was easier to stay still with your mind so occupied.

So you said yes.

And only then did the teacher tell you there was a catch.

“Nude?” You all but screamed.

“I know you and Mr. Hwang are close so I can pair you two together—but if you’re more comfortable modelling for a female student that’s fine too. Either way, you won’t be able to participate until you sign the forms.”

You looked at the consent forms in your hand, mulling it over for a few moments still. Modelling for a girl would be more comfortable, but you didn’t know anyone that took Art and being naked in front of a stranger was far more nerve wracking to you.

You called Hyunjin right away. He assured you he’d make sure you’re comfortable and that you didn’t have to agree at all and that he would buy you lunch for a week. He needed a good score on this assignment and he, too, didn’t feel all that comfortable sketching a stranger under those circumstances.

So you signed the forms.

*

You decided to use your room for the assignment, for privacy reasons and to help you feel more at ease. Nothing could be too scary with your supportive plushies in the same room as you.

Hyunjin walked in with his iced Americano (a second one for you, too) and started setting up his station.

He put all his pens and pencils in order, three huge erasers, two sharpeners, and his giant sketchbook. It was so big you guessed the sketch would end up being life sized.

As he set everything up, you fiddled nervously with the string of your robe. It was just your bathrobe, nothing too special, but the whole situation made your heart race and there was sweat gathering on your forehead.

You weren’t so sure if you could do this after all.

“Hyune,” you start, “does it have to be completely nude?”

He looked up at you from where he was straightening his pencils, eyes boring into you. You swallowed.

“Those are the requirements,” he caught his bottom lip between his teeth before he adds, “do you wanna put on some underwear as a warm-up?”

“Do you need sketches of me in my underwear?” You purse your lips.

“Not really,” he says, bashfully, “but if it’ll be an easier start for you?”

You inhale deeply. Untie your bathrobe. Exhale.

You let the fabric fall off your shoulders, pooling at your feet, before you settle on your bed.

Hyunjin nods at you with a small smile, encouraging.

“You got this,” he tries, putting a fist up in the air in solidarity.

“Can I put on a podcast so I don’t get bored?” You say, conscious to not move your legs too far apart.

“Sure, it’ll probably take me a while,” he chuckles, “I need to do like five.”

“Oh, dear god,” you roll your eyes and Hyunjin laughs at you. The nerves you were feeling have all disappeared already—it actually isn’t too weird being naked in front of him.

He’s your closest friend, has seen you being sick after drinking too much, has seen all your embarrassing childhood photos, has seen you with bed head and delirious from no sleep. He’s seen it all—so it shouldn’t be too weird for him to see your tits, too.

Hyunjin directs your poses, the first one casual as you lay on your back. He’s only sketching your upper body, he says, from the neck to your bellybutton, so he lets you cover up your bottom half with a blanket so you aren’t too cold. The first pose is fun since you don’t have to do anything too strenuous.

Once he flips the page on his sketchbook to a new one he changes your pose. This time your profile is facing him, the leg closer to him bent to hide most of your body. You don’t get the privilege of warmth this time, and your butt starts hurting after ten minutes in this position. But you focus on the podcast that’s still playing in the background instead, trying to be a good model for Hyunjin.

For the third pose he gets up and moves the table to the very edge of your bed. You look at him questioningly as he does so, before you let out a small, “why?”

“It’s just that, well, I need a close up,” he whispered the last part, eyes focused on rearranging his pencils neatly.

“Of….?” You think you know the answer.

“Of you,” he says, pointedly, and so you understand.

You can’t help but think he was going too easy on you until now, that this was the real assignment and he didn’t want to scare you away. And perhaps it worked, because the thought of Hyunjin staring at your pussy with that amount of concentration doesn’t scare you as much as it would’ve twenty minutes ago.

It actually… excites you. You feel a tingle all around your stomach, and your heartbeat feels louder all of a sudden.

It was one thing to just be naked in front of Hyunjin, but having him look right at you, with his face frowned in concentration made your core flutter.

You nod timidly at Hyunjin’s questioning look before he smiles. He sits back down on his chair, grabbing his pencil, and getting to the task at hand.

You feel yourself getting wet at the amount of attention he’s giving your body—even if it’s just with his eyes—and you hope he doesn’t notice it. But you do, and with your legs spread the way he asked them to be, you can even smell your own arousal. You hope he isn’t close enough to notice it as well, but you have a feeling that hope is futile. He can definitely tell.

“I read a lot about this once we were given the assignment,” he starts, focusing solely on his sketchbook as he talks, “and sometimes models feel.. you know. So don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m…” you wanted to defend yourself, because you weren’t even that embarrassed. Just surprisingly turned on. “Okay.”

“It would be more embarrassing for you if you were a guy, guys can’t hide it,” he says, as if to make you feel better.

“I don’t think I can hide anything from you right now,” you scoff at him. Hyunjin giggles in response.

He lets another five minutes or so go by before he takes a look at his drawing. You can’t be too sure because you’ve never seen yourself so close before but it looks like a good sketch. A really good one. You’re flattered at the attention to detail and it doesn’t make you feel shy anymore. You’re almost proud.

“When I was reading,” he coughs, “there was someone who said it’s nicer to sketch those body parts after.. a.. well,”

“You’ve just stared at my vagina for twenty minutes straight, Hyune, surely you can get some words out.”

He looks up at you, eyes round and glossy. His plush bottom lip is slightly red from where he’s been sucking on it as he draws.

“Female genitalia is a beautiful subject to draw after the model has experienced sexual gratification.”

You burst out laughing. “Who talks like that?”

“That’s a direct quote from the article!” He defends.

“So you want me to sexually gratify myself?”

He blushes deeply at that, shaking his hands quickly. “Not if that’s weird! Just if you wanted to. I have enough to probably pass I was just curious if she was right about it and—“

The words die on his tongue when you bring your hand between your legs. Your actions are fuelled by a strange bravery you aren’t familiar with, and the insane amount of arousel that’s coursing through you.

He quickly gets up, turning his eyes away from you.

“Wait, I can leave and you can call me back in when you’re d—“

“—don’t,” you say, running your fingers up and down your wetness, “maybe you can draw the process, too?”

His eyes go wide, so wide he almost looks like a cartoon, before he’s fumbling around to find the chair again. He sits down, quickly grabbing his pencils but they all fall onto the floor in his clumsy urge to get drawing right away.

He recovers them quickly, setting them aside but not at all bothering to arrange them in his neat order like before.

“Yeah, good idea,” he finally says, trying his best to look and draw and breathe at the same time.

He doesn’t have time to draw you teasing yourself before you slip two of your fingers inside you.

The sight is so pretty, so beautiful, and Hyunjin freezes for a moment. He blinks once then twice before he quickly starts putting pencil to paper and sketching out the sight before him.

He knows he won’t be able to do any of it justice but he has to try.

“Can you, move a little less?” He asks after a moment or two.

“I won’t reach sexual gratification if I don’t move,” you explain with a chuckle. If you’re honest, having Hyunjin watching you touch yourself might be enough to get you to cum without much movement at all—but you aren’t sure he should know about all that.

“Yeah, but it’s fucking beautiful and I want to get the details right,” he says.

You exhale lightly at that, trying not to react too much to what he just said. You aren’t sure if he can see you clench around your own fingers or not, but you nod in agreement.

“Pull them out a little bit, just so I can see better,” he directs, so simply, as if he isn’t talking about your fingers deep inside your cunt.

You follow his directions dutifully, as you’ve done all afternoon.

It’s just half of your fingers now, which isn’t much, but you can still feel the stretch. Still, with no friction available to you it makes you needy. So needy.

You want to move your fingers more, you want Hyunjin to watch you do more.

“Hyune,” you say, softly.

“Yeah?” He asks, still concentrating on his task.

“Wanna move now,”

“Just a few final details, okay?” He adds in a whisper, “you’re so beautiful,”

“Hyunjin, please,” you let out, because his compliment isn’t helping your patience at all.

“Would it help if you moved for a bit and then went back to the same pose?” He offers, eyes swimming in sympathy.

“It would, yes,” you nod quickly.

“Go on, then, just for a bit,” he smiles, supportive, before his gaze goes back to his sketch. He takes an eraser, fixing up a few details in an attempt to give you some privacy. But you don’t want that at all.

“Hyunie,” you whine out, and his head snaps up in a second. “It’s no fun if you look away.”

“I, I’m trying not to,” his eyes jump between your face and your exposed pussy, then back to the page. “You should have some privacy.”

“Don’t want it,” you say quickly, fingers moving slowly in and out as he gives you a bit more attention, “want you to see this.”

“I wanna see it too,” he says quietly, “it’s so beautiful.”

“Then look at me,” your fingers move quicker now, your palm resting against your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, “watch me fuck myself.”

“Fuck,” Hyunjin all but moans, head falling backwards before he quickly zeros in on your cunt.

You let your eyes scan down to his crotch, see the bulge he’s so clearly been trying to hide.

“Come here,” you ask him, patting the space next to you, “want you to really see me.”

Hyunjin almost flips the table over and runs to you, but instead he just trips over one of the legs, letting all the pencils fall again, before he’s climbing onto the bed.

He settles right in front of you, his knee touching your ankle, and lets himself fully gape at the sight in front of him.

“I looked through a lot of portraits you know,” he starts softly, his voice lower than usual, “and I think your pussy is the prettiest one.”

“Maybe it has something to do with the artist,” you smirk at him, mostly to try and hide how much you like him complimenting you.

“Not my sketch,” he’s quick to correct you, “the one here.”

As he says it, he brings his big hand on top of yours, pushing against your hand until your fingers go as deep as they can.

You moan loudly at that, jaw hanging open.

“That’s what you wanted, deep,” he confirmed to himself, looking at your knuckles disappearing into you. “Looks so nice like this, too.”

He grabs your wrist, lifting and pushing your hand in an impossible pace. Your fingers are sore from it after only a few seconds, but Hyunjin’s beautiful face is looking right at you and so you don’t do anything but moan.

“So pretty like this, too,” he says, slightly strained.

You grip his bicep, needing something to ground you as the pleasure starts building and building. It’s much more solid than he lets on, his arms big and strong and his grip on your hand tightening as your whines grow higher and higher until— “I’m gonna…”

“Want me to see it? Should I watch as you cum all over your fingers, pretty?”

And that’s all it takes for it to hit you at full force, your eyes shutting tightly as the pleasure takes over.

Hyunjin giggles at you, small dimples appearing by his cheeks as he averts his gaze away from you. He’s so beautiful even with his head turned away, looking for something.

He quickly finds it and grabs the tissues by your bed to hand you one. You quickly clean off your fingers as you giggle.

“Should you get back to drawing now?” You ask, breathless.

“Yes,” he nods, getting up with a very obvious tent in his pants. He adjusts himself as discreetly as he can, but a sense of pride takes over you knowing you’ve made him hard in the first place.

He gathers the pencils off the floor.

“Next I think I wanna draw your face when you cum, it’s really fucking gorgeous,” he says offhanded as he sketched out the outline of your cunt.

“I’ll have to cum again, no?” You mumble.

“That can be arranged,” he doesn’t even look up.

Your breathe catches in your throat.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin fic #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #kinktober #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop imagines #stray kids kinktober #kinktober23 #all.works

[strawbeerossi]

The Ballad Of Dr. Reid

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: When you zone out in the middle of one of your lectures, your professor asks you to stay after class to check in on you.

Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, Professor/Student, age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), minor hand kink, porn with little plot, heated kissing, fingering, spit, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda, right?), reader gets a facial

Word Count: 1.9K

Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You’d always had a liking for criminal justice, so taking the courses in college seemed like a no brainer. You really liked Criminology 1424. It was an interesting class, one that piqued your interest far more than the other classes you were in the process of taking. 

In addition to being genuinely interested in the subject, you were more interested in the professor of the class; Dr. Spencer Reid.

He was soft spoken for the most part, a little on the awkward side but that was okay. He was experienced from his fifteen years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and would use cases he’d faced for examples in his lessons. His lectures were long and albeit pretty boring at times but you had no problem watching the man at the front of class talk, his hands emphasizing just how prepared he was for the topic at hand. You’d realized that there were topics he definitely enjoyed getting into, his body language and his overexaggerated gestures being proof of it.

You’d always thought the FBI and the darkness he faced on a near daily basis would exhaust him, make him harder and more stoic, the seriousness of the world on his shoulders. No, instead he offered smiles, helped any student who came to him, and was painfully oblivious to the amount of young men and women auditing the class just to admire the attractive professor.

It was like any other lecture, delving into the intricacies of triggers and what could bring them on. It was a lesson he liked, judging by his animation this evening. You’d done your best to keep up, to get plenty of notes jotted down due to this being on the impending final. However, you were too busy drooling over the curly haired beauty, his veined hands flailing with each word that fell from his lips. 

What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your body, to feel the gentle touch of your professor as he was letting his fingertips memorize all the dips and curves of your body, to familiarize himself with how to pleasure you.

His hands on-

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

You were snapped from your thoughts. The sound of your name falling from his mouth was like sweet honey, drizzling over your eardrums as you could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. Great. Now the whole class is looking at you. 

“Y-Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry, just, uh, not all the way here today.” You explained, slowly looking back down at the notebook covered in scribbles. So much for getting any work done today. 

The class passed by painfully slowly after that. Even the attractive man in front of you didn’t seem to speed up the clock. You’d sat quietly, giving up with the notes aspect as you’d switched to doodling on the edges of your notebook. You’d done your best to try and be one of the first ones out whenever your professor dismissed the class full of students. However your shoulders slumped with defeat when the sea of bodies filed out first.

There was no clean getaway.

“Y/N, do you mind staying back and having a chat?”

Fuck.

Mustering up enough courage to face the man you’d gotten distracted fantasizing about, you were approaching his desk. Even up close, he was a beautiful man. Even in his early to mid forties, he still looked delicious. “I apologize for getting distracted earlier. I was just-”

“Looking at me? Y/N,” There was a deep breath that left his lips. “You can tell me if this tie is ugly. My coworker Penelope insisted I wear it. I love her but some of her ties aren’t really my style.” 

He was joking, easing the awkwardness and the unknown tension filling the lecture hall. Maybe he’d been feeling the same way about you. He looked at you a lot as is, however you may have just been in a delusional state of mind right now. There was a hope that Spencer would reciprocate those feelings. “It’s not.. It’s a little ugly but that, uh, wasn’t what I was, uh, staring at.” You decided to just be honest. Worst you can do is transfer out of the class. 

Or run away to a new city, start over again at a new university. 

“Really?” 

“Really. Sir, with the risk of coming across as inappropriate, it’s hard to pay attention to you at the front of the class. It’s not a bad thing. You just always look…” You paused and gave him a once over. “Really nice.” You spoke. 

There was a blush that spread across the older man’s cheeks, an eyebrow raising. “You think so? At risk of sounding even more inappropriate and unprofessional,” He paused as he leaned forward a bit, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s hard to teach when you come in looking as beautiful as you do. Makes me just wanna stare at you the whole class.” 

The words were lower than usual, a rush of warmth going straight to your core from the mere compliment. 

“Plus when you come in with a new lipstick shade..” His lanky body was pushing off the desk before he approached, his fingers resting gently under your chin before tilting it upwards. “It drives me insane. You may think I don’t notice but…” This was crossing the boundary of teacher and student, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. “I do. Makes me think of these pretty lips wrapped around me, those eyes glossed over with pleasure.” He hummed, chuckling at the way your breath hitched, eyes locking with his. 

You didn’t know what came over you at this point, however you could help yourself as you were launching yourself forward, mouth smashing against his in a quick kiss that he seemed enthusiastic to reciprocate. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling your frame closer to his chest as the kiss filled with desire and hunger was escalating.

The next thing you knew, you were being sat against the desk at the front of the lecture hall, your eyes widening. “H-Hold on, don't you have another class??” She asked immediately as she let her hands squeeze the broad shoulders. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” Spencer responded, hands trailing to the waistband of the pants you were wearing. The thought of having sex in a hall where anyone could walk in at any point was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You weren’t one for exhibitionism normally, however you weren’t gonna turn this down. 

“Fuck it.” Your words made a grin spread across Spencer’s face, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while working on getting your pants pulled off, panties following in one swift motion. Licking his hand, the older male didn’t waste any time before moving the wet hand between your legs, his spit working as lube as he wanted to make sure you were wet enough for the deed. Lord knows that he didn’t want you tearing at any point. 

The feeling of his fingers brushing against your clit had already sent electricity through your body, a light gasp escaping your lips. 

“Such a pretty girl, bet you haven’t ever had any man pay attention to you, huh? I can only imagine you’ve been with selfish little boys who haven’t even attempted to bring you to orgasm..” He sighed playfully, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips once more. He was addicted, drinking in your moans as his thumb was massaging your clit, one finger pushed deep in your weeping hole while he was working you open.

This was definitely something new, you didn’t really sleep around so the few times you’d engaged in casual sex were quick, rushed. You sure as hell knew that the past couple of dudes couldn’t even find your clit. You were intoxicated on his touch the small movements he made eliciting moans and gasps into his mouth. With your hips rolling against the touch, you let your eyes flutter shut. 

“As much as I hate to stop, we’ve got fifteen minutes and I’m dying to be inside of you.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving to undo his belt before tugging his pants down his legs, boxers being pulled down soon after. The sight of his hard cock had your full attention. “Ready? You’re sure you want to keep going?”

“Yes!” You rasped, making him chuckle while his large hands were spreading your thighs apart, letting a trail of his spit fall onto your pussy before he was giving himself a few tugs. The thick tip of his shaft was spreading the spit onto your cunt, a hum falling from his lips. So pretty. God, I hate having to crunch time like this.” He groaned while letting the thick head push into your hole, your mouth falling open at the delicious burn that came with the stretch of your inner walls. If only you knew about your professor’s cock sooner.. All the stress of studying for quizzes would’ve been a million times easier.

His hips snapped without warning, a loud moan falling from your mouth while the male couldn’t help but chuckle as he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. Can’t have anyone hearing you.” His hand barely did justice to hide your moans and cries as his hips continued to roughly thrust, the desk rocking steadily with each movement.

“Fuck. It’s like this pussy was made for me, look at the way she takes my cock and is desperate for more. So greedy.” The vulgar words from your otherwise sweet and seemingly innocent man’s mouth was strangely attractive, attractive to a level that your inner walls were spasming around the hard cock nestled deep inside of you, so far you felt like he was hitting your cervix. Then again, you could’ve just been exaggerating. 

With your fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders, you could feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so tight that you felt like the floodgates were going to burst open. 

“I-I’m gonn-” You stuttered, words muffled against his hand while Spencer nodded. 

“I’m almost there. Cum for me.” His words were husky, tone dripping with ecstasy as he let out a low groan. 

As your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, the both of you were letting out a mixture of groans, mons and even a few whimpers slipping from the older man’s lips. It was all too much, finally letting the dam break as you were letting your head fall back, mouth agape as your thighs were shaking, your creamy arousal making a ring around his cock.

There was a little whine at the emptiness you felt when his cock wasn’t inside of you, the male opting to gently move you from the desk before putting you on your knees. “Look at you. Fuck. Stick your tongue out for me. Make sure you close your eyes too. I don’t wanna give you any infections.” Even in a huffing and panting mess, he looked out for you.

Doing as you were told, you let your mouth fall open while your eyes fluttered shut, the male groaning at the sight as he roughly fisted at his cock. There was only a few pumps before his cock was twitching, it being his turn for his head to fall back as he was painting your face with his spent. The load was a lot more than you expected.

Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did. 

As the act was coming to an end, Spencer was trying to catch his breath while tugging up his pants and boxers. He’d retrieved a few tissues from his desk before leaning down to wipe your face, a light hum leaving his lips. “Maybe you can talk to me about some extra notes you could add to your doodle book. Say over coffee tomorrow morning?”

“Deal.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #strawbeerossi kinktober 2023 #dr reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid thoughts #spencer reid au #spencer reid scenario

[euphoricfilter]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober day 8

[day eight: size kink]

pairing: jungkook x f. reader

warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, he’s hung okay? whatever you’re thinking make it bigger— he has a fat cock, belly bulge

notes: smut straight under the cut!! you’ll never guess what song i was listening to while writing this, i just want you guys to know that the music i write to, never fits the vibe of the story

kinktober masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“Gonna ruin you” Jungkook murmurs, hand wrapped around his cock.

He pushes your legs a little higher up his shoulders, tongue running over his bottom lip when he watches your cunt clench around nothing. It was almost a feral need that consumed him in moments like these, rough hand fisting his cock, thick cockhead ready to spear you open. Precum leaking down his length, raw need to watch him mould your cunt for his cock only.

You watch down the length of your body as he presses the tip of his cock over your entrance, thumb pressing under the head, sinking the first inch of his length into you.

Your pussy clenches around the mushroom head, Jungkook’s thumb pressing over your clit to try and help loosen you up a bit.

“Such a small pussy” he braces a hand beside your head, body caging you beneath him as he ruts another inch into you.

You swallow down a moan, fingers tugging at the sheets below you.

Jungkook watches as his cock splits you open, pussy swallowing down everything he has to offer. Clenching ever so deliciously around him. His cock is shiny when he pulls back to his cockhead, watching you stretch around the widest part of him before he presses back into you, feeding you each agonizing inch so slowly you start to rut your hips upwards.

“Hold on baby” his hands spread over your hips, sinking into your flesh, “Be a good little thing and take what I give you… yeah?” he presses a wet kiss to your jaw.

A chesty laugh claws up his throat when he feels you clench at his words, pitiful whimper slipping off your tongue when he snaps his hips forward. Thick cock pressing against your sweet spot.

“Shit—Jungkook” you whine when he leans down a little, your legs still hooked over his shoulder pulling the bottom half of your body off the bed.

“Yeah? You like that?” he laughs, “Like me moulding your little pussy for my cock, and my cock only?”

You nod, hand splaying over your stomach when he sinks the rest of his length inside of you. Barely letting you feel all of him before he’s pulling his hips backwards, snapping forward, desperate to sink himself back inside of you.

Your back arches, wet squelch accompanying a moan as he starts to thrust into you, erratic. His eyes stay trained om where the both of you connect, base of his cock messy with your creamy arousal, pussy split, likely gaping if he slipped out of you.

“Fuck—that’s it baby” he groans, finding his rhythm, angling his hips where he knows he’s pressing against all the little spots that you love.

Your hand slips down your stomach, mouth falling open in a moan when you feel it.

“Jungkook” you moan, his name fogging your mind, “can feel you here” you slip one of his hands from your hip, pressing it over your stomach.

His hand presses down, deep rumble of a moan catching in his throat when he feels himself inside of you. His hand slips over your mound, both your eyes stuck on your stomach as you watch him beneath your skin; buldge of his cock pressing from within you.

“Shit” you cry, hips stuttering upwards.

“Fuck, you really are small, aren’t you, baby” his hand slips over your stomach, pressing down on the bulge.

He moans when he feels you constrict around him, cock twitching as he staves off his own orgasm when he can feel his hand pressing down on his cock.

“So small my cock is all the way in your tummy” it comes out as a breathless laugh, your mind barely processing what he was saying as you slip headfirst into your orgasm.

Barely able to warn him, words entirely broken, more a mantra of his name. Though Jungkook seems to know, pace slowing as he snaps his hips harder into you, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot, onslaught of pleasure bringing you over the edge.

Your cum coats his cock, world turning white for a moment before you get a glimpse of Jungkook’s body curled over your own. His eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as your cunt continues to pulse around him, slowly inching towards the bubbly sort of overstimulation that would no doubt send you reeling into a second orgasm.

You feel his cock twitch between your walls, hips losing their rhythm, thrusts turning sloppy as he nears his own release. His eyes slip open, holding himself up by one arm as he presses his hand over your stomach again. A long drawn moan falls past his lips as he cums, thought of his release coating so far into your cunt pulling another wave of cum out of him.

He barely ruts into you, hips pressed against your thighs as you clench around him, milking everything out of his spent cock. His eyes stay trained on the bulge of your stomach, thumb brushing over where he assumes his cockhead to be.

“Such a good girl, letting me ruin your insides” he leans down, pressing a kiss to your sweat tacky skin, “little pussy all mine, so greedy swallowing my cock”

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts kinktober #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook scenario

[tired-biscuit]

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

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

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

Finding peace in the spontaneous wild (that is you)

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

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

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

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

wc: 26.2k

find part two here!

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that’s all gone now.

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

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

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

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

But so does Kiba.

And so do you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And new means foreign.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

And then there’s the shallow breathing.

Oh, yeah. Right. 

Kiba’s sick. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

3:27 PM.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop worryin’ so much.”

You blink in surprise. “Mm?”

“I said stop worryin’.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that makes you care for him even more.

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

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

“Are you, though?” you ask. “Fine?”

“Are you?”

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

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

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

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

Continuously.

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

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

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

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant—”

“Nu-uh, you said it so you meant it!”

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

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump! 

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

But you don’t feel like listening right now.

“Hey, what’re you—”

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

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

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

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

It’s concerning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you bite.

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

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

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

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

So he stares at you now. Leers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like a predator would do to potential prey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re free to move again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if that hasn’t happened before.

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

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

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

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

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

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

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

“Right back atcha.”

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

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

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

Is it because you’re nervous?

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

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

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

It feels like life is repeating itself all over again.

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

Well, that’s new.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? It’s just a name, isn’t it?”

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

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

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

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

“Nothin’.”

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

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

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

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

You quirk a brow. “Am I really, now?”

“Who else but you?”

It’s always been you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You object to his genuine affection like an idiot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s gotten… complicated.

Much like your entire friendship has.

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

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

“Like what?” he asks. As is regret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” you repeat. “I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

“Do what?” you ask dumbly.

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

“Today?”

“Did I fuckin’ stutter?”

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

Fucking hell, he’s actually serious about this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about ‘em?”

“I don’t have those either.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Course,” he says.

“Say it, then.”

“Say what?”

“That you promise.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!”

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

Even you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is it so intense?

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

“What, I really did!”

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

It’s nice to be able to breathe again. 

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

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

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

He wants to devour you.

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

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

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

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

“Kiba?”

“Huh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh,” he fumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I’m joking.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, don’t do that; I’ll fall!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing’s really changed, now has it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well—”

“Don’t answer that!”

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

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

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

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

“But I don’t wanna.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

It only makes you angrier.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean by that?” you ask.

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

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

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

But it’s a start.

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

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

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

Thump, thump, thump!

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

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

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

“You’re sure?”

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

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What an idiot.

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not telling you that!”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

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

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

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

“Sure you do.”

“I seriously don’t.”

“Everyone has a type, though.”

“Not me.”

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you didn’t even let me finish!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

“Absolutely sure?”

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

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

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

“Aha.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, wanna know what pisses me off?”

“What?”

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

“All right, that’s it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

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

“No.”

“C’mon.”

“No, Kiba.”

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

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

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Either way, things are escalating fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what else is there?”

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

Thump, thump, thump!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never like this.

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just say it.”

“It’s so fucking embarrassing, though.”

“Goddammit, spit it out already!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, right. Right. Sorry.” 

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Want that?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you never do. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink. “A handjob is new to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey—”

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

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

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

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

In a way, Kiba feels the same.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah… Just a lil’— fuck, yes, yes…!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahh, but you smell so good.”

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

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

Ba-dum.

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

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

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

It makes you feel cornered all of a sudden.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s all so slow. Deliberate.

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

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

Higher, higher, higher.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until you’re right underneath him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How in the hell is he gonna fit inside you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop naggin’ me already and relax.”

“Excuse me?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More?” you suggest.

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

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

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

Well, he’ll try at least.

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

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

But at long last, you’ve become one.

“Fuck.”

“That feels so—”

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

“I-I’m so… full.”

“You’re welcome.”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

“What d’you think?” 

“I think—”

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

“Ew, ew, ew! That’s so gross.”

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

“Stop poking it!”

“Nu-uh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you’re going slow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he hopes it stays that way.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he says. “So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if I don’t?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I…?” he trails off.

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

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

“Not funny— oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And neither do you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The realization makes you smile.

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up already!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. “That’s so mean!”

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

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

“Fuckfest?” he offers with a tricksy grin.

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

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

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

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

“What is it now?” he mumbles lazily.

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

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

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

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

“And you’re fine with that?” you ask.

“‘Course I am,” he replies sleepily.

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: innocence/corruption

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, virgin reader, unprotected sex, m and f receiving oral and handjob, daddy kink, lots of pet names including kitten/good girl/princess/baby, corruption kink from rafe but hes still very sweet, one instance of pussy slapping lol, mild degradation, use of slut

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana

“i bet you’re so wet right now.” rafe whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

“i’m not.” you pout, not even fully understanding what he’s saying, mind still fuzzy from the intense kiss he just gave you.

“liar.” rafe smirks, hands still placed on your waist from when he pulled you onto his lap and flush against his body.

“i’m not a liar!” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowing as rafe just lets out a chuckle.

“you are.” rafe says, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss against your lips, and even though it only lasts seconds, your head begins to feel dizzy again and you lean forward, seeking out more.

“little slut.” rafe whispers as your forehead presses against his shoulder, unable to keep your eyes on his as your chest presses into his. “i can feel your nipples getting hard.” you sit up suddenly, feeling your face get hot as your cheeks blush. you over your breasts with your hands. “they are not.” “move your hands then.” rafe commands, but you press them harder against your chest, willing your nipples to settle down, but when rafe reaches up and rips your hands away, you know he can easily see the hard buds poking out from under the fabric of your shirt.

“i knew it. liar.” rafe cups your breasts, keeping his hands to the outside of them, manipulating them beneath your shirt as the toys with how they sit on your chest.

you should tell him to stop, but you can’t get the words out. rafes thumb suddenly swipes over your nipple and you jump up off his lap.

“now you’re definitely wet.” rafe says, eyes on your pussy that is now level with his face.

“no, i’m not!” you say again, even as you feel something unfamiliar stirring in your stomach. “you’re being a bad boyfriend right now!”

“the only thing that would make me a bad boyfriend, sweetheart, is if i didn’t take care of my girls pussy when it got wet for me.”

“it’s not wet!” you whine, cutting rafe off before he can say something, “and don’t call me a liar again!” rafe closes his mouth in a hum, eyes coming to meet your face. “then show me.” “what?” you question, glancing down your body.

“if you’re not wet, show me your pussy. let me see.” rafe is staring up at you expectantly, and the flame burning inside of you speaks before the logical part of your brain can. 

you humph and pull your shorts down your legs, leaving you bare. rafes eyes widen, expecting a second layer underneath.

“open up, kitten.” rafe taps your thigh, and you spread your tightly clenched thighs just slightly, revealing a mess of sticky wetness. rafe smiles up at you, and you want to cry out of shame and embarrassment, but mostly for lying to your boyfriend about not being sopping wet.

“there. you’ve seen. i’m a liar, now let me put my shorts back o- ahhh!” you let out a scream as rafes hands land on your hips, pulling you closer to the couch he’s sat at as his lips attack to your clit, forcing his head between your legs as they part so you don’t lose your balance. 

“rafe!” you scream, reaching over him and holding onto the back of the couch as he tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking up the wetness you claimed wasn’t there.

you let out a series of moans as he focuses directly on your clit, bringing you a type of pleasure you’ve never felt before. you know in that moment that there’s no going back, no going back to the innocence you once possessed as you reach a hand to the back of his head, pressing his face further into your cunt.

“admit it.” rafe mumbles against your pussy, only pulling away slightly to speak, letting you feel the vibrations of his voice. “admit that me kissing you made you this wet.” “f-fine.” you cry out as his lips wrap around your clit, giving it a suck that makes you see stars. “fine! yes! you got me all wet.”

“you lied.” rafe pulls away fully, and you try to push his head back between your legs, but he won’t let you. “you lied to your boyfriend. i thought you said we would always tell each other the truth.”

you didn’t trust rafe when he first asked you out. you were new to the outer banks and came from a very sheltered life, so when you finally agreed to be his girlfriend, you made sure some rules were put into place. you didn’t even think to include anything about sex, you’ve never experienced it before.

“i’m sorry.” you pout, the shame about the lie now mixing in with how dirty you feel.

“i’ll forgive you, baby.” rafe tugs you down onto his lap, depositing you on his knee so you’re now face to face. “i’ll forgive you if you’re very good for me tonight and do everything i say.” “okay.” you whisper, not wanting rafe to be mad at you. you blink back the tears that have welled up in your eyes, you cunt clenching around nothing as you wish for his mouth back on you again, back delivering the world-changing pleasure.

“good kitten.” rafe says, cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a soft kiss, but you don’t want soft now that he’s shown you so much more. you deepen the kiss, opening your mouth slightly for rafes tongue, granting him permission as your own tongue tangles with his.

you lean forward to get a better angle, but also end up pressing your cunt into his thigh. you moan into his mouth, rocking forward against his jeans, no doubt leaving a large wet spot as you continue to move.

you don’t even realize that rafe has stopped kissing you, sitting back to watch you get yourself off on his leg. you place your hands on his chest, pushing your clit directly into the muscle.

rafe gives his leg a sudden bounce, making your legs widen. you cry out, eyes closing as you grind down.

rafes hands land on your hips, and you hope he’s going to help, but instead he forces you to stop, shifting you so you’re not lined up anymore. “no, rafe, stop-” you whine, opening your eyes to see his stern expression greeting yours.

“dirty sluts get themselves off like this. i thought you were my good kitten, not a dirty slut.” rafe says, making you almost cower at the harshness in his tone.

“i am good.” you pout, sticking out your bottom lip, and rafe can’t hold back the urge to lean forward and bite it, tugging you back into a ravishing kiss, only pulling away when you’re both out of breath.

“good girls also don’t lose their virginity on a couch. let me take you up to bed, princess.” you just nod, standing up off rafes lap, who only lets you stand for a moment until he’s up, sweeping you into his arms.

“wh-what do good girls do when losing their virginity?” you whisper as he climbs the stairs, feeling your face redden again.

“good girls do as their boyfriends say. and you’re gonna do so good honey, no reason to be nervous.” rafe kisses your cheek as he sets you down on his lush bed, closing the door behind him, hoping that will make you feel a bit more comfortable despite being completely alone in the house.

rafe stands next to the bed as he tips your head up, giving you a sweet kiss that has your nerves fluttering away. he smiles down at you, a wickedness shining through, not able to be fully concealed. 

“can you…” you mumble, and then stop, remembering that you’re supposed to listen to your boyfriend, not tell him to do things.

“it’s okay, baby, ask.” rafe asks, giving you the permission you needed to speak.

“can you take your shirt off?” you ask, surprised at your ability to keep eye contact while asking, remembering the time you went out on his boat and rafe took his shirt off, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him.

rafe doesn’t respond with words, instead pulling the tshirt off over his head and tossing it away. he takes your hand in his, placing it on his bare chest, giving you permission to touch.

you glide your hand over his smooth skin, admiring the way his muscles stand out. you move lower, eyes following your fingertips as you feel his abs, moving lower and lower until you get to the hem of his sweatpants. 

you let out a gasp when your eyes finally meet what’s right in front of your face. rafe is straining so hard through his sweatpants that you know it must be painful, the way he’s pushing against the fabric.

“what do… good girls do with this?” you ask, hoping rafe knows what you’re referring to.

“they touch it.” rafe says, taking your hand again and lowering it over his crotch, pressing your palm against his hardness, making him let out a grunt.

“that feels good?” you ask as you begin to rub your hand over it. 

“baby, it feels amazing.” rafe steps back, and you frown, going to ask him if he’s lying about it feeling good if he’s making you stop, but then he grabs his sweatpants and lowers them down, taking his underwear with him.

your eyes widen at the sight in front of you, a primal urge taking over as you reach back out, wrapping your fingers around his thick length. you’ve never seen a cock up close, and definitely not one as beautiful as the one your boyfriend possesses.

“fuck, your hands on me are heaven.” rafe moans, and you feel a flutter in your heart at the praise, beginning to stroke your hand up and down over his shaft, eyes occasionally traveling up to his face to make sure he’s still enjoying your movements.

you try different things, try faster, try slower, you even take your palm and rub it against the end of his cock, making rafe suddenly thrust forward with a moan. you can tell he likes it, but his reaction scares you slightly, so you keep to stroking his length.

“you want to know what else good kittens do?” rafe asks. he smiles when you quickly nod.

“they lick it.” he says, taking a step closer so he’s between your legs, not failing to notice the way your wetness has grown to leave a mark on his bed, but you’re so focused on him that you’ve forgotten the ache in your pussy.

“oh.” you say, leaning forward and taking an experimental lick of the head of his cock. you look up at rafe, swallowing the slightly salty taste that’s left on your tongue. 

“come on.” rafe encourages you, and you lean forward, licking again, relishing in the taste as you continue, covering the head of his cock with spit as you get into the feeling.

once you’re used to it, you begin to move your hand again, stroking it from base right up to his head where you continue exploring with your tongue.

“try sucking.” rafe says, and you only hesitate for a moment before opening your mouth, placing the head of his cock against your tongue. you close your lips over it, surprised how big it feels inside of your mouth.

you give a gentle suck before looking up, not wanting to hurt rafe. “harder.” he commands, and you close your eyes, focusing again as you give him a harsher suck. the moan rafe lets out spurs you to continue, caressing his cock with your tongue inside of your mouth as you continue to suck.

your hand, that was holding him steady at the base, begins to move again, and you develop a rhythm of sucking and stroking him when suddenly rafe pulls away, chest heaving as you swallow the remnants of his taste on your tongue.

“did i mess up?” you ask, making rafe let out a breathy laugh.

“no, baby, not at all. i just almost came.” he explains, reaching to run a hand through your hair.

“oh!” you say, eyes widening. you almost made him orgasm. you knew that was the end goal, but you never realized how good you were doing. you feel a bit of pride grow in your chest at that.

“you know, we can keep practicing until you eventually can suck all of me.” you glance down to his cock, eyes widening, wondering how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside of your mouth. 

“don’t worry now, darling.” rafe ducks and gives your forehead a kiss. “we will work up to it. for now, why don’t you take your shirt off then lay on the bed?” you had forgotten completely about your own pleasure, but at the reminder you realize how hard your nipples have grown, and how the need to have him back between your thighs has only gotten bigger as you sucked him off. 

you shuck your shirt off, no longer feeling as insecure now that rafe is naked. you scooch further up on the bed until you’re able to lay down on the pillows, watching as rafe paces at the end of the bed, eyes never leaving your body as he admires you, admires you like a predator does their prey before taking them down.

“spread your legs.” rafe commands, and you follow his instructions instantly, bearing your pussy to him.

rafe gets onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs. he runs his hands over your legs, trying to control himself, but the need to hear your moans again is too great.

he presses his thumb to your clit, easily rubbing over it due to your slickness. your back arches up off the bed, letting out a cry.

“good kitten, shh.” rafe says, bring his thumb up and sticks it in his mouth, tasting your wetness before quickly reconnecting. “i’m gonna touch you somewhere new.”

you barely register his words, too focused on the way your clit is pulsing with pleasure. your eyes that you hadn’t even realized had slid closed shoot open when the tip of rafes finger presses against your hole.

“rafe!” you squeal. you’ve never had anyone touch you there before.

“remember what i said about good kittens?” he reminds you. you take a deep breath, letting your body relax. you trust your boyfriend, and you need to make up for lying to him earlier. 

“good girl.” rafe presses his finger harder, until it breaks the seal of your hole. he could moan just from the first knuckle being inserted, knowing you’re going to squeeze his cock so tight.

his finger keeps pushing in, and you feel like it’s impossibly long. it’s uncomfortable for a moment, but his thumb continues to move over your clit, and the discomfort changes to pure elation as you feel a high rising over your body.

“stop, rafe, i think i’m gonna pee!” you warn, but his thumb continues to move, and he turns his hand so his finger quirks up, pressing against the spot inside of you that has you tumbling over the edge, entire body arching up as you moan, letting out a slew of words that sound like rafes name mixed with curses, curses that you never let pass your lips but you can’t help it now.

your entire body shakes as you feel wave after wave of pleasure, all from rafes adept hands. he slows his thumb on your clit and eventually stops when it pulses angrily underneath him, but he keeps the singular digit inside of you.

“did i pee?” you ask, afraid to even look down, unsure what just happened.

“no, baby, you just came. you had an orgasm.” rafe explains, placing his freehand on your outer thigh and rubbing it comfortingly.

“that felt…” you don’t know how it’s possible for you to blush anymore, but you do, “that felt really good.”

rafe smiles down at you, “i know honey, and i’m gonna help you feel another one since you’re such a good kitten. and you’re gonna help me cum too.”

“i’m gonna help you feel like that?” you ask, wanting to experience the intense feeling with your boyfriend.

“you are.” he nods. “this is why you’re such a good girl, we are gonna get to do this all the time now. i’ll show you how to orgasm with my cock, and with my tongue.” “i can cum on your tongue?” your eyes widen, remembering the way his soft but skillful tongue felt against you.

“you can.” rafe says, “but first, i need to open your pussy up with my fingers so i can fit my cock inside of you.” “i don’t know if it’s gonna ffffff-” you’re cut off as rafe begins to move his finger again. 

“i’ll fit baby, don’t worry.” rafe says, feeling how good you’ve already opened up for him. your body lays slack against the mattress, and he’s glad that you got to your orgasm so quickly so he can focus on opening you up while you’re relaxed.

he moves until his singular digit pushes easily into you. he looks up to find your eyes closed, taking deep breaths as you attempt to keep your body relaxed, but you do tense up momentarily when a second finger joins in pressing against your entrance.

before you can even freak out, they are both plunging inside of you, moving easier due to your wetness.

“baby girl, you’re making me so proud.” rafe says, and he swears you actually start to glow under his praise. his innocent little girlfriend, somehow managing to remain sweet even as he finger fucks you.

“can you… touch my clit again?” you ask, swallowing thickly.

“no, princess. next time you cum i want it to be on my cock. i’ll touch your clit then.” rafe says, noticing the face you make. “don’t pout or you won’t cum at all.”

you wipe the frown off your face, really wanting to feel what it’s like to orgasm with rafes cock inside you, even if it looks too large.

“i’m gonna scissor my fingers now, kitten.” rafe warns, and you let out a moan as he starts to open up his fingers, pressing them against your walls to make space for himself.

“there you go.” rafe mumbles, eyes on your cunt as you loosen. he can barely stand to wait any longer as he gently pulls his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth to get another taste of you.

“t-time for your cock?” you ask, whispering the last word so quietly that rafe can barely hear you.

“yes, time for my cock. be a good girl and stay relaxed.” rafe considers what position will be best for you before grabbing a pillow that you’re not resting your head against, and moving it to underneath your hips. he moves closer on the bed, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy.

as soon as he brushes your entrance, you tense up.

“hey.” rafe warns, pulling his hips back as he delivers a swift slap to your pussy, right over your clit that has you crying out. “i said relax.” “sorry.” you whimper, taking a deep breath as rafe lines himself up again. he pushes his hips forward, moaning as the head of his cock is concealed by your tight heat, walls constricting him but he’s able to keep moving as you stay relaxed.

“good girl.” rafe praises you as he sinks in, pausing to move at a snail pace when you squirm or make a noise of discomfort.

eventually, his hips are settled right between your thighs, pressed as deeply as they can go. as much as rafe wants to go feral, he doesn’t want to cause you too much pain, so he lets you have a moment to adjust.

“so big inside me daddy.” you whimper, unsure of where the name came from.

“daddy, huh?” the corner of rafes lip quirks up. “maybe you’re not a good girl after are, maybe you are a dirty slut.” “i’m no-oooo!” you scream as rafe beings to move, his hips pulling away and then slamming back in. your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his cock moving against your walls, every inch feeling so sensitive.

“you’re not a dirty slut? because this is exactly how dirty sluts behave when they have their daddies cock inside of them.” rafe moves faster when he feels that you’re only getting wetter.

“i wanna be your good kitten.” you whine, hands grasping at the sheets.

“hmm.” rafe slows down so he can feel every inch of you, using his cock to memorize the way you feel around him. “maybe you’re my good girl and my dirty slut. can you be both for me baby?” “i can, i can.” you whine, feeling tears slide down your face. rafe keeps one hand stabilizing your hip and uses the other to swipe his thumb across your cheeks to collect your tears.

“be my slut and my princess. cum on my cock for me.” rafe wants to last longer, he really does, but now that he knows how dirty you can be when he pushes you, especially the way you reacted to him slapping your pussy, he knows this is by far the last time you let him play with your body.

he speeds up, his cock swelling inside of you as he rubs you clit again, as promised. you moan consistently, unable to control your voice as you get closer and closer to the edge, now able to identify the feeling as it hits you hard.

rafes cock hits your insides just right, and you explode at the same time as him, your cunt squeezing repeatedly in your orgasm, milking all of the cum out of him as he shouts your name, releasing himself as deeply as he can.

you are both breathing heavily when rafe falls forward, pressing his body against yours. you whine at the change of position in his cock as he keeps it lodged deep inside of you.

“was i good?” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw as rafe picks his head up.

“you were so good, princess. such a dirty little whore for me.” rafe kisses you in earnest, delighting in the way your lips slide over each others, even more open to the make out now than you were before you had sex. “gonna be your good little slut from now on.” you whisper against his lips, surprised to feel rafes cock twitch inside of you as he rehardens slightly.

rafe presses a deep kiss to your lips, “i know you will, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

#maybe my favorite kinktober fic #esp the beggining i- #i turned myself on writing it bahaha #kinktober #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x y/n #obx fanfic #rafe drabble

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 7

Sex Toys with Bucky Barnes

"The Gift"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You give Bucky a gift he never knew he wanted.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - masturbation, sex toys, homemade porn, dirty talk, pet names, langcorn, reference to oral & vaginal sex, Bucky being a needy boy.

Bucky paced back and forth, trying to avoid staring at the box on the bed. His fingers pulling on his hair and biting at his bottom lip, trying to find a way to direct his attention anywhere else, but his mind kept pulling him back. The ache between his legs was beginning to throb each time he looked at the box & let his thoughts drift back to you.

You had to know what even just your innocent little texts did to him when you had been gone this long. Even just a sweet "miss you so much, Buck" sent his blood straight to his cock. It gets him thinking about how you can be all sugar sweet around everyone else then turn into such a dirty girl the minute you get to your bedroom. Hell you loved nothing more than whispering something filthy to him right before walking in a room with someone else just to get him wound up.

He had no idea what he had unleashed the first time you two started getting a little frisky. He loved how you seemed a little old fashioned when you started dating. How you made him court you made him earn each and every little kiss. By the time you two had gotten to the point of sex being a possibility, he was nervous he would scare you away by being too aggressive. Little did he know what awaited him.

He will never forget the night he found out how bad you really were. You had been dating a couple of weeks and had the compound to yourselves for an evening, so it wasn't surprising when watching a movie devolved into a hot and heavy make-out session. He tried not to let on that you had him hard as a rock. He didn't want to put any pressure on you. Then, as you were adjusting to hook your leg around him, your thigh brushed up against his erection making him moan against your lips. He hoped maybe you hadn't noticed or, at the very least, were going to pretend you didn't feel the massive bulge in his pants.

You pulled back to look in his eyes, and he looked like a deer in headlights. He was terrified you were gonna slap him or never want to see him again. He didn't expect you to let out a dark little chuckle and bite his bottom lip. You sucked his lip into your mouth, then let it go with a wet pop before licking it once. He sat frozen as you moved your lips to whisper in his ear. Your voice dropped an octave as you spoke.

"Well, well, soldier, seems like you're enjoying this, huh? Enjoying having my mouth on you. Have you thought about what else I can do with my mouth?" With that, you sucked his earlobe into your mouth, and he let out a little high-pitched squeal he didn't know he could make.

"Maybe my mouth is a bit too much for now, hmm. Don't want you to blow just yet, Buck. What about my hands? Bet you've thought of them touching you. Stroking you all over." 

As you spoke, you moved one hand up to his hair, leaving the other wrapped around his neck, keeping him close to you. Accenting the end of each sentence with the particular touch you described.

"Thought about my fingers pulling on your hair." You purred, gripping his soft, short, dark brown hair and giving it a soft tug.

"My nails scraping down your back." You gently pulled your nails in a straight line down his spine, stopping at the base of it.

"My palm sliding up and down your chest", you let your hand circle his waist and slide up under his shirt, pressing your entire hand flat to the center of his strong chest. You could feel his heart pounding. He had his eyes closed and was trying to keep his breathing steady. His nostrils flared. He didn't want to let you know how close you had him to losing all control.

You paused for a moment, lulling him into a trap to make him open his eyes. You kissed his lips softly and sweetly. Innocently. Then, after rubbing your nose against his, you pulled back to see his beautiful blue eyes. 

Like a cobra, you struck. Using the hand looped around his neck, you grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. You rose to your knees, so you were looking down at him and slowly started pulling your hand downward.

A wicked grin on your face as you dragged the next sentence out word by word. You knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

".. and I bet that there's something else you've thought about my hands doing, isn't that right, Buck? Bet you've thought about it so much. Bet you've thought about it after every date we've had."

You could feel him inhale sharply as you touched the top of his abdomen. You slowly started to curl your fingers in, leaving just your index finger touching him.

"Maybe you've thought about it when you're in the shower..."

You felt his abs contract under your fingertip.

"I'm sure you've thought about it in bed at night too. I know I have, baby."

Your fingertip hit the top of his jeans, and just for a second, you stopped. Giving him a chance to push you off of him if he didn't want you to go any farther. When all that came from him was a little whimper, you let your fingertip continue over the button & down his fly.

"Bet you've thought about me touching you here. Thought about me touching, and rubbing, and stroking your hard cock. You feel even bigger than I imagined, baby."

After hitting the bottom of his groin with just your fingertip, you turned your hand and gripped him with your whole hand. Starting to massage his entire bulge. A loud moan escaped as he fought the urge to thrust into your hand.

He was now staring at you with his eyes wide & his mouth hanging open. What happened to the sweet shy thing who blushed when he brought you flowers? Here you were a little sexbomb on the verge of making him cum in his pants and you had only just started touching him.

From then on, you just kept surprising him with how dirty you could be. So, really, he shouldn't have been that surprised when he found the naughty little gift you left him when you went on your mission. 

It was the first time either of you had to leave since the 2 of you started dating, let alone having sex. You knew the both of you would be missing each other something bad. So the last night you were together there were lots of pics and few little videos. Bucky knew they were mostly for him. You were gonna have your hands full with the mission.

You had awoken something in him that had been asleep since before he became the Winter Soldier. He couldn't get enough of you, of your body. Of your perfect wet little pussy. He loved telling you that too. That was why you got him the gift.

It was a sex toy. A Fleshlight. 

He picked up the card and read it again:

Something to play with until you can enjoy the real thing again. I picked the one I thought looked the most like your best girl ;)

XOXO

Your best girl and your girlfriend too

He hadn't dared to open the toy yet. He wanted to, but he wasn't sure he could. His 1940s sensibilities were getting the best of him. He wasn't a prude by any means, but the idea of fucking a plastic toy designed to look like a pussy just seemed so... dirty.

Of course, that was also the appeal, wasn't it? Especially the fact that you had picked one you thought looked like your pussy. His pussy. He was curious if it really did. It was hard to tell from the outer box. 

There was no harm in taking a peek, right? You had sent him a message after you knew he had found your gift. Telling him that if he didn't want to use it or it weirded him out that he didn't have to use it or even keep it. 

He would just have a look and then put it away. Figure out his feelings a bit more before he decided what to do. He at least had to know if it did look like you. Although he would put money that it wouldn't be as perfect as yours. Nothing would ever be as perfect to him as your pussy. 

He double-checked to make sure his door was locked. Approaching the box and tentatively picking it up. He looked over the images on the outside and felt himself cringe. It felt like the naked woman on the box was judging him. She looked nothing like you and did absolutely nothing for him. He quickly unsealed and opened the box, and pulled out the toy wrapped in tissue paper. Not sure if he wanted to unwrap just the end or the whole toy. 

He decided to go right for what had him the most curious. The soft, skin colored silicone slowly coming in to view. He let the fingers of his right hand stroke the edge of the silicone. To his surprise, it did feel rather nice under his touch. Now, he was ready to reveal the toy fully. He bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away the last bit of tissue. A moan pulling deep in his throat. 

Oh fuck, it did look like your pussy. His pussy. His mouth watered and his pants immediately got tight. He couldn't tear his eyes off of it now. He let his thumb stroke over the fake clit on the toy and swore he could almost hear you shudder. Then he used his index and middle finger to trace the plump labia of the toy and momentarily stretch the hole.

He was right, it was nowhere close to as perfect as your juicy pussy, but it was much more tempting than he could ever have thought possible. He wanted to lick it like he would lick you, and he wanted to fuck it like he would fuck you. Was he really going to do this? He picked up your note and read it one more time, imagining the look on your face and the things you would say to him if you were here watching him. 

Yep. He was really going to do this. 

He quickly stuffed the paper wrapping in the box and threw the box under his bed. Pulling the blankets back on his bed and dropping the toy there. Quickly opening his nightstand and fishing for the bottle of lube. Throwing his shirt and jeans off as fast as he could before moving to lay in the very middle of the bed. That way, he could smell your pillow and pretend you were really there with him. 

The toy momentarily forgotten as he began scrolling through the various naughty photos and videos he had of you. Starting to palm and rub at his hard cock through his underwear. He could practically hear you saying how much you loved seeing him in his just his boxer briefs. You always said his cock looked incredible straining against the tight fabric. How they hugged his thighs and his ass perfectly. That you never thought a guy in his underwear could get you that wet.

Fuck you made him feel so good. He forgot all the things he hated about his body when you touched and praised him. You made him feel sexy. You made him want to show off for you. Making a very clear point of saying how all these photos and videos weren't just for him. Maybe he would send you a picture when he was done?

He stopped at a video clip where you were sitting between his legs, slowly taking off your bra and panties. Stopping to rub at him a few times or shake your tits at him. He heard his own voice telling you to pull at your nipples. His cock twitched at the moan that fell from your lips. He knew what was coming next, so he quickly set the phone down reaching for the lube and the pussy toy. 

He flipped the cap up on the lube and let some of the slick clear liquid coat the pads of his fingers just in time to hear himself tell you to take off your panties and show him your pussy. To show him his pussy and how wet you were for him. As you did exactly what he told you to in the video, he let his lube slicked fingers start to pet and stroke the outer lips of the toy. His long middle finger running a small circle around the hole, barely dipping inside before sliding back out and around. 

Once the toy was nice and slick, just like your cunt now on display in the video, he set both it and his phone down just long enough to pull his underwear off. He gasped as he felt the cool air of the room make contact with his leaking tip. He was wetter than he thought he was, clearly underestimating his own need. 

With his phone in one hand and the toy in the other, he waited until he heard his own voice in the video again. Waiting until he told you to come and rub your pretty pussy all over his cock. To get him nice and wet while you made your little pussy feel good.

The next video was a close up of his cock slotted between your pussy lips as you slid yourself back and forth against his shaft. He started to copy your motions in real time, letting the toy slide against his cock in time with your movements. A needy little moan falling from his lips when the toy caressed the ridge under the head of his cock.

His hips unexpectedly bucking a couple of times when he heard your whimpers in the video. If he closed his eyes, he would never think that it was a toy in his hand and not the real thing. It still wasn't you, nothing would ever feel as good as you, but fuck him it still felt so good. 

He couldn't hold himself back much longer, so he flicked to the video of his cock slowly sliding in and out of you cunt. He could never get over how incredible you looked stretched around his length, how his cock glistened with you slick everytime he pulled back out. Your swollen clit front and center and just begging for attention. 

He pulled his attention back to the toy in his hand. Angling it so his tip pressed against the hole of the toy. Adding just enough pressure to feel it start to stretch around his thick leaking head, just like your pussy would. A gasp pulled from his lips as the toy slowly engulfed his tip. Pulling it back up before pushing it down just a little more.

Repeating the same action over and over. Pushing down so the toy swallowed another inch of his cock, then pulling all the way up. Them pushing back down again until he had finally bottomed out. The video on his phone was momentarily forgotten. It felt incredible. So tight and snug and wet around his aching cock. 

His hips acting on their own as he started rutting into the toy. Whimpering as it seemed to suck his cock back in. He fought the urge to start frantically fucking the toy. As good as it felt, and holy fuck did it feel good, he still wanted to fantasize it was your cunt he was fucking. 

He let his eyes close again with his cock fully sheathed in the fake pussy. Quickly rolling onto his side and burying his face in your pillow as his hips started to thrust hard and fast. Moaning as your smell filled his nostrils. Replaying all the mornings you had woken up together only to have innocent spooning turn into fucking. 

Bucky let himself start to whimper little praises as if you were really there. His vibranium hand grabbed at the blankets and clamped around your pillow. Pulling them closer to him. His mind turned to mush as the toy practically sucked the life out of him. 

If he focused, he could almost hear you responding to him. Keening at both his praises and degradation. Saying filthy things right back to him.

“Fuck! Feels so good, baby. Always take my cock so fucking well. Can't wait to have you back in my arms. Can't wait to fuck you for real the second you are home. Miss you so much.”

He felt the heat of his climax building and his balls pulling tighter. Whimpering as he bit your pillow. Imagining he was biting and marking the soft, warm flesh on your neck. His flesh starting to tingle, and sweat starting to form on his brow. His hips thrusting so hard and fast the mattress was creaking. His needy groans and the wet suction of toy echoing through the room.

“Gonna cum, babydoll. Fuck, gonna cum so hard for you!” 

Bucky thought his soul might actually leave his body with how hard he came. Spurt after spurt of his warm release filling the toy. A faint thought in the back of his mind about the possibility the toy might start to overflow. 

Slowly his orgasm faded to electric aftershocks of pleasure. His breath still coming in gasps. His cock starting to soften, still nestled in the warm silicone that suddenly felt nowhere near as comforting as being inside of you. Even if it could give him an incredible orgasm, he was well aware that it wouldn't provide the loving and intimate aftercare that you always gave him. Snuggling his face into your pillow once again, he smiled as he thought about when he would get to hold you in post-coital bliss again.

When he finally caught his breath, he looked back to where he had dropped his phone earlier. The video had ended. Frozen on a closeup of your face with the most wicked smile on your face and the mischievous twinkle in your eyes, he knew so well. He wondered if you were missing him.

He hopes you are missing him, because fuck is he missing you; and your gift only  made him miss you more. He was sure he was addicted to you.

After going to shower and cleaning himself up, along with cleaning the toy, he noticed the light on his phone blinking. Reaching for it once he was settled back down in bed. Frankly, he felt exhausted after trying out your present. Flicking on the screen, he saw that there was a new text message. It was from you. It was an emoji of a smiling Devil followed only by three words.

Enjoying your gift?

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

Back to main Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Back to main masterlist

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #the white wolf #the winter soldier #bucky smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky

[honey-on-your-tongue]

COMING UP BABY,(I come as quick when I heard you doing kinkotber requests sooooo yYEA)

Miguel O’Hara x goodgirl!reader

KINK: hunting predator kink, overstimulation,and an slight breeding kink (idk 😃 i remember reading something like this so yea,where Miguel has an kink that he enjoys playing the predator,loves to see reader in fear,it make him “excited” 😏,loved to see reader so hopeless,so pitiful,and so vulnerable)

IDK IM SO SORRY IF IT BADLY EXPAINED 😭😭😭 BUT happy kinkobter ✌️✌️🫶🫶

Kinktober Day Four: Predator

Kinktober Masterlist

Miguel O'Hara x female reader

You heart races in your chest. You can hear it in your ears, can feel your lungs expanding with each quickened breath.

You're shaking slightly, hiding in an old, abandoned building behind what used to be some sort of desk.

You hear him walk into the room, heavy footsteps slow and quiet. His breathing is heavy, a rough, almost animalistic grunt leaving him.

You shudder where you hide, closing your eyes, trembling as he moves around the room.

Miguel knows you're here. He can hear your rapid breaths, can sense your racing heart. And he smells you. He can smell your fear and your arousal, making his own spike.

He takes a deep inhale, already knowing where you're hiding, but knowing that the more he scares you, the sweeter it'll be when he catches you.

His claws are out, his fangs at the ready. He can't help it. You drive him crazy.

He'd been a little reluctant the first time you two had done this little predator/prey role, thinking he'd scare you off. Instead, he was surprised and delighted to find how much you enjoyed it.

He walks closer to where you are, the smell of your fear growing, making his cock even harder. He stalks closer, laughing softly, darkly.

“I don't know why you bother hiding,” he says, voice low. “Did you forget I can smell you?”

You shudder, eyes popping open. He laughs again and leans over the desk slowly, smirking, those red eyes dark and sharp as he finds you crouched into a tiny ball.

“Perdiste, princesa,” he says thickly. You lost, princess.

He grabs you, pulling you to him. You gasp as he sets you down on the desk, moving to stand between your legs.

His claws dig into your hips slightly, a silent warning: you better not think about running right now.

He kisses you messily, eager, his mouth moving down your jaw, your neck. He bites you, relishing in the way you squirm beneath him. “Shh, princesa, ni siquiera empezamos.” We haven't even started.

He fucks you over and over, his cock buried so deep inside you that the thick head presses against your cervix. He keeps going even as you shake from your fourth or fifth orgasm.

“Miguel!” you whine. “Miguel!” It's the only word you know anymore. He's truly fucked you dumb.

“Shh, ya sé, princesa,” (I know) he says in your ear, fucking you hard and fast, barely resisting the urge to sink his fangs into your neck. “I'm almost done with you, baby. Just gimme a minute longer, hm? Gimme a chance to fill you up.”

You moan, trembling underneath him as another orgasm overcomes you. “Ahh!”

“I'm gonna give you a baby, princesa,” he says. “Do you want that? Do you wanna be full of my baby?” He chuckles against your ear. “Qué bonita te vas a ver con mi bebé adentro de ti.” You're gonna look so pretty with my baby in you.

He comes inside of you, delivering his thick, hot load deep in your cunt. You mewl lowly at the feel.

He kisses the tip of your nose, then your lips. He keeps his cock buried deep in you. He hopes, truly..he gets you pregnant. There's nothing he'd like more than to give you a child.

-----

@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re @m4dyy @icreatedthisat317am @keiva1000 @jakescumdump @ravisinghs-wife @tengens4th--wife @oceancerulean @pookiesmookie69 @juwandiko @aisyakirmann @ninebluehearts @vampireluvvr @saturnstringz @4imhry @iheartlinds @pigeonmama @eyweveng @braverthanthenewworld @livingwithinyou @switchiest @httpstoyosi @lyn-soso @6thhokageswife @normsdaughter-alt @thel0velykey190 @tojibreedingme @icouldntthinkofanythingclever

*if you want me to add you to my Miguel taglist, comment or send me a message <3

-----

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #kinktober #smut smut smut

[xarlenewithanx]

Husband! Kento be like:

Husband! Kento who would always be grateful to you for being his wife.

Husband! Kento who would shower you with kisses the moment he stepped inside your home.

Husband! Kento whose eyes widened when you told him of his weak stamina in bed (to rile him up).

Husband! Kento who randomly skipped dinner the next day after you said that and immediately devoured on your pussy.

Husband! Kento who has your legs shaking and eyes tearing up because of the immense pleasure.

Husband! Kento who had your back arching because of his skilled hands and tongue.

Husband! Kento who gave you orgrasms after orgasms without using his dick yet.

"Aw baby, I thought I was the weak one here,"

Husband! Kento who had you in a mating press getting fucked aggressively without even having time to take a break.

"Kento!" huff huff "slow down!"

He covers your mouth with his hands.

"uh-uh, you complained about me being weak, now take it all,"

Husband! Kento who flipped you over to fuck you aggressively from behind as he lifted you up to let you see how flushed you look in the mirror.

"Aw, my wife is so cute looking all fucked up after complaining" he cooed before kissing on your cheek.

Husband! Kento who came inside you multiple times and is still going strong.

Husband! Kento who had you holding on to the sheets as he continously thrusted inside you for who knows how long has it been.

Husband! Kento who made your pussy feel sore.

Husband! Kento who made you breakfast in bed and spoon-fed you after your night affair with him.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #x reader fics #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk fluff #female reader #drabble #x reader #kinktober 2023 #fluff #fanfics #fic writing #fanfic writing

[straykeedz]

day 2: lee know + accidental stimulation

©straykeedz

tw: bff2l; female anatomy; just soft sex on the couch; very brief nipple play; unprotected piv sex (don’t do this at home 🤨); pull out method; ♡

wc: 3,3k

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

☔︎

Minho’s hands are all over your skin - touching, brushing, groping, scraping, squeezing your body in whatever way he pleases, as he leaves hungry kisses on your neck and collarbone. At the same time, he slides his hard dick between your wet folds, tip repeatedly brushing against your clit, making you whimper every single time, muffling the sounds that escape your lips with the back of your hand as his movements practically drive you crazy. 

“You’re so wet, baby. So, so wet. I could slip right in.”, he chuckles, collecting some of your arousal with the pad of his fingers, pleased with what he finds between your legs - a literal mess. 

You want him to. You want him to just stop teasing you and fucking put it in instead. You want to feel him, feel the velvety tip of his cock part your slit and finally enter you, you want him to sink in your body, you want him to lose his mind as he thrusts his hard cock back and forth inside of you, you want him to unravel under your touch just like you’re doing right now under his. 

“Please do.”, you grab him by the wrist, hissing when his dick brushes against your clit once more - you’re already so close to cumming, but you want to feel him properly first. 

“You want me to?” Minho asks you, dark brown, boba eyes staring into yours. You nod slowly, and you feel him move one hand to wrap his slender fingers around his velvety cock, ready to align it to your entrance - the very tip now kissing your wet slit, ready to welcome him inside. 

He notices you tensing up a bit, your body stiff under his. With his other hand he caresses your cheek, before smiling warmly at you. “I’m right here, you’re safe with me.”, he whispers on your lips. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

And before he can place his lips on top of yours or push his cock inside, you wake up. 

You blink a couple of times, sight still a bit blurred, as you sit up on… Minho’s couch? How come you’re on… oh. Now you remember - you’re at Minho’s place. Fuck, there’s no way you just had a wet dream about your best friend while being asleep on said best friend’s couch - is there? Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you can’t stop repeating the scene in your dreams over and over in your head. What does this even mean? Never in your eleven years of friendship with Minho you had a wet dream about him - except maybe one time, but you were drunk and particularly horny so it doesn’t really count. 

“Ah, I see you woke up.”, a voice behind you startles you, making your body jolt up. You turn around only to find Minho with two mugs in his hands, the hot steam fogging his glasses a bit. “I’m sorry I startled you. Here, I made tea.”

He places the mug on the small table besides the couch - you smile when you recognize the mug. It’s actually his favorite mug - with cat faces printed all over it, but he knows you love it, so he doesn’t mind you borrowing it whenever you hang out at his place. 

“Thank you.”, you smile at him. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Minho asks as he sits down on the chair next to his couch. 

“What?”

“You were squirming a lot while sleeping, I assumed you were having a nightmare or something.”, he shrugs, taking a sip of tea. 

Your eyes widen, and you can feel your cheeks turn red because no, you weren’t having a nightmare. In fact, it was far from it. You were actually having a sex dream about your best friend, the same best friend who is in the same room as you. 

“Oh, right. Yeah, a nightmare.”, you lie, shrugging as you bring the cup of tea to your lips. 

“Was it scary?” Minho asks. 

“Very.”, you answer with a chuckle. 

He doesn’t have to know the truth - plus it was scary. Dreaming of sleeping with your best friend? Terrifying. Not because he’s unattractive or anything, quite the opposite actually. However, you don’t need to overthink this - it was just a dream. People dream of weird things all the time, it’s not uncanny. It doesn’t mean you’re in love with Minho or anything. 

“Was I in the dream?”

You nearly choke on your tea. “What?”, you cough. 

“I heard you whispering my name while you were sleeping.” Minho states matter-of-factly, not particularly bothered. 

Great. First you dream of your best friend naked, about to make love to y- have sex with you, and then you apparently whisper his name in your sleep. Was there anything else embarrassing you’d done when unconscious that you’re unaware of?

“Oh, yeah, you…” Were naked on top of me and about to put your dick in my pussy. “You slayed the dragon. Of my nightmare.”, you come up with a lie, and pray to God it sounds convincing. 

“I knew I’d make a hell of a knight.”, he chuckles. “Was my armor shiny?”

You automatically think back of how there was literally no armor, but then again - you can’t really say anything. 

“Very.”, you cut it short. “Now help me with this stupid project.”, you try to change the subject, and it works, because Minho instantly nods and connects his computer to the ac to help you with the brief report you have to submit to your boss. 

You’ve been working at your report for less than ten minutes when a sudden lightning makes your body jolt, followed by a loud thunder, which inevitably results in a power failure, and you and Minho are left in the darkness of his living room - even the computer shut down since its battery is completely dead when not connected to the ac. As you predicted, it’s just the beginning of a violent thunderstorm. 

“Minho, Minho!”, you squeak, and even though you seem calm and composed, he knows deep inside you’re panicking because you’re scared of thunderstorms, a fear you have since you were a child.

“I’m here.”, you feel him getting closer, and you immediately clutch his arm, during your face in his chest as he runs his hand up and down your spine to soothe you. “It’s okay, y/n, everything’s fine.”, he tries to reassure you. “Will you be fine alone for just a couple of seconds?”, he asks you.

You shake your head, gripping on his shirt tight. “No, don’t leave, please.”, you beg. 

He places a soft kiss on top of your head, his hand still rubbing gentle shapes on your back and shoulders. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll just go see if I have any candles I can lit. It’s pitch black in here.”, he explains. 

“Fine.”, you give in, loosening the grip on his shirt. “But please be quick.”

Minho comes back in the living room less than a couple of minutes later, and you can’t really see him, but he has three or four candles in his hands - his phone in his mouth with the torch on to make sure he doesn’t accidentally stumble. He places them on the small table, then retrieves a pack of matches from the pocket of his sweats, and proceeds to light them one by one. Once he’s done, the room is not pitch dark anymore - the faint light the candles provide is enough to at least allow you to see each other. 

“Done.”, he announces, blowing on the match to extinguish the flame, proud with himself. “Now stay here while I try to figure out how to get the power back on.”, he tells you. 

Minho is back five minutes later, soaking wet, damp hair stuck on his forehead - but the dark room is the evidence that he did not manage to get the power back. He shakes his head and sighs in defeat as he removes his drenched and muddy shoes. 

“I don’t think the power’s going to be back soon.”, he mutters, and he’s about to say something else when another thunder, much louder than the previous ones, makes the both of you jump - and your body starts shaking. 

“Minho!”, you call his name, and he immediately rushes to your side, sensing the panic in your voice. 

As soon as he’s by your side, you clutch his shirt, burying your face in his chest. He tries to protest at first, muttering something along the line of “My shirt is drenched, you’ll get wet.”, but you don’t care. You just need him close. 

“Shit, y/n, you’re shaking like a leaf.” Minho comments, placing one hand on the back of your head, his damp fingers caressing your hair as you’re pressed against his the crook of his neck. “There’s nothing to be scared of, y/n. I’m right here, you’re safe.”, he whispers, one hand on your back. 

Maybe it’s what he says - the exact words he’d uttered in your dreams, when he was about to push his cock inside of you, maybe it’s how he says it - whispering the words in your ear, voice low as it vibrates in his chest, sending a shiver down your spine; or maybe it’s where he says it - in his poorly lightened living room, which makes it ten times more romantic. You don’t know what it is, but you can’t help but feel a knot in your stomach as you feel your arousal begin to pool in your underwear as your heartbeat picks up its pace. You’re sure Minho didn’t say those words in hopes to turn you on - but he did anyways, albeit accidentally. 

Something changed in the way you’re gripping on his shirt - Minho can feel it, and he can also feel the way you’re desperately trying to squeeze your leg and rub yourself in order to find some relief without being too obvious about it but of course, mission failed, because Minho notices. He notices and he can’t pretend he doesn’t feel the familiar warmth building up in his stomach as he swallows the lump in his throat, because he can feel his cock getting harder in the confines of his sweats. The way he’s softly breathing in your ear sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps all over your skin.

Minho’s hand, which was previously on the back of your head gently stroking your hair, moves to your shoulders first, then on your arm - bare since you’re wearing a short sleeved shirt -, brushing the skin softly with the back of his knuckles all the way to your wrist. Meanwhile, he moves his head so that his sharp nose is now brushing against your ear, so close to your jawline and neck - which does not help at all with the pool of wetness in your underwear. In fact, it makes the situation even worse, to the point that you can feel your panties are entirely soaked. He intertwines his fingers with yours - delicately, discreetly, and when he feels you squeezing his hand back, he takes it as a sign to continue. 

The tip of his nose brushes on your exposed neck, which makes you almost whimper - you have to suppress it by biting your lower lip, and Minho wishes you didn’t. When he brushes his lips against the vein on your neck, tho, there’s no way you can stop a choked moan from escaping your throat - closing your eyes in anticipation, impatient to feel his lips on you. When he does place his lips on you - it feels magical. He kisses and licks and bites the skin of your neck, and then right below your jawline, and then on the back of your ear, making you shiver and kick your head back. 

That’s when you meet his eyes for the first time - and you see something new in his, something you’ve never seen before, something you can’t comprehend right now. And you don’t know it, but that’s exactly what Minho’s thinking right now as he looks you in the eyes, blown pupils, you’re looking at him through your eyelashes - he’s looked you in the eyes a million times before, but they never were like they are right now. Not once. Moreover, you look flustered, he notices - cheeks puffy and red. You bite your lower lip, and it’s almost imperceptible, especially in the barely lightened room, but Minho notices it. He notices it, and takes it as an invitation to link your lips - fingers still intertwined with yours while his other hand rests on your lower back. When he leans in, you don’t move, you don’t pull away or anything - in fact, you stay right there and lean in as well, closing your eyes as your heart hammers in your chest. 

Minho’s lips feel even better on yours, they’re soft and, surprisingly, not dry at all - when you brush your tongue on his lower lip, you can’t help but notice how he tastes of green tea, a reminiscence of the hot beverage he’d prepared for you both. It doesn’t take long before the kiss turns into an heated make-out session, and at some point Minho moves his hand from your back to the back of your head, which allows him to crash his lips on yours even harder. 

It doesn’t look like a first kiss at all, and, truth be told, it doesn’t feel like one either. It feels almost natural - as if you and him have been doing this for forever, at least a million times before, which is something that can’t be further from the truth. 

You only pull away from each other when Minho feels you tugging at his damp shirt, a clear signal you want it off. With one last peck on your lips, he lets go of your hand and removes his shirt - pulling it by the collar and throwing it somewhere in his living room. Then, his lips are back on yours, and it’s his hands that are tugging at your shirt now, as he helps you take it off, leaving you in your bra in front of him. It’s not even one of your sexiest bras, it’s one you use regularly, and it’s pretty worn out, but Minho doesn’t seem to care. 

You’re now lying on the couch, your bodies pressed together - your bra is the only thing that’s in the way of feeling your bare chests. Minho’s breath hitches in his throat when you hook your thumbs on the waistband of his sweats and gently start to pull them down his legs - he didn’t think you’d be going that far tonight. He kneels between your legs, not even thinking about stop kissing you, and pulls his sweats down the curve of his ass and slides them down his thighs, freeing his cock, which slaps on his abdomen. It’s long and hard, slightly curved - and it looks absolutely delicious. 

You prop yourself on your elbows when Minho tugs at your jeans - undoing the button and unzipping them incredibly fast despite his shaking hands, and you lift your ass to facilitate him as he slides them off your thighs. They end up on the floor, next to his, together with your underwear. It’s pointless to keep your bra on given the fact you’re both naked from the waist down, so you quickly unclasp it and let it fall on the floor as well. 

It should feel at least a little weird, right? Your best friend practically staring at your chest, your eyes on his cock, however it doesn’t. It feels natural. He positions himself between your legs once again, body lying flat on yours as he rests on his elbows so that he doesn’t crush you. Then, he latches his lips and tongue to one of your nipples, taking it into his warm and wet mouth - you let out a choked moan, kicking your head back as you entangle your fingers in his dark hair. With the fingers of his hand, he plays with your other nipple, lightly squeezing it between the pads of his thumb and index, as his teeth gently scrape the other one. 

All your life you thought Minho was an ass man and here he is - proving you wrong, sucking on your tits as if it’s his last meal. 

He spends a good five minutes there - licking, lapping, sucking on your nipples, before you gently tug at his hair, so he snaps his head up in your direction, and instantly knows what you want, what you need. He reads it in your eyes, in your swollen lips, in your flustered cheeks, in the way you open your legs a little wider. He simply nods, then smile sheepishly at you as he wraps his slender fingers around his length, finally aligning its tip to your entrance, coating it in your arousal. 

You can’t help but think of the dream you had earlier, and you also can’t help but certify that this feels a thousand times better. 

The choked sound that escapes his throat once he pushes the tip of his cock inside your walls is a blessing to your ears, and the way he closes his eyes shut and kicks his head back, mouth agape, is absolutely ethereal. He pushes the rest of his length inside of you slowly, careful not to hurt you - he won’t, you’re insanely wet, there’s no way he could hurt you. Plus, the stretch is insanely good, and you can’t help but notice that he feels perfect inside of you - he fills you up just right. 

Once he’s fully set inside of you, he takes a couple of seconds to look at you in search for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, but then you cup his face in your palms and crash your lips onto his. He smiles into the kiss, and slowly starts to thrust inside of you, savoring the way your tight walls squeeze him each time he pushes back inside, deeper and deeper. He rocks his hips at a steady pace, back and forth, and latches his mouth to your neck, sucking and licking the flesh as he grabs one boob in his palm; he won’t stop touching you - hands all over your body, on your boobs, on your hips, on your thighs, then he rests them by each side of your face as he caresses your cheeks with his thumbs, still thrusting inside of you at a steady rhythm. 

Minho makes love to you. It’s not sex, it can’t be - it’s too intimate and heartfelt to be just casual sex.

He makes love to you tight there, on his couch in the middle of his poorly lighted living room, where the only thing that can be heard apart from the heavy rain are the sounds of your moans and whimpers, your heavy breaths as well as the squelching sound that accompanies Minho’s thrusts. He makes love to you just like you make love to him - intensely, clutching his shoulders as you come, unexpectedly and with a shaky whimper of his name.

“Minho…”, you pant, kicking your head back and shutting your eyes closed as your toes curl while you release around him, squeezing his length incredibly tight. So tight it only takes him a couple more thrusts to find his own release, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his semen on your stomach with a deep grunt, before collapsing on top of you, resting his head on your breasts as you both try to catch your regular breathings. 

You lie there for a while, your fingers entangled in Minho’s hair as he occasionally places soft kisses on the skin of your collarbone and breasts. Neither of you speaks, words are unnecessary right now - besides, you spoke a lot minutes before, just not using words. You let your hearts talk, communicate your feelings, beating fast in your chests.

Then, all of a sudden, the power is back on - and you can’t help but think the blackout might’ve been some twist of fate to help you realize that maybe all you wanted all along was right by your side, in the form of brown boba eyes and a cat-like smile.

☔︎

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[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: free use

pairing: 3racha x fem!reader

wc: 3.5k

free use: a fully-consensual fetish where partners are allowed to sexually “use” each other at any time.

It was an unusual situation that few would understand. The first thing being that you were in a relationship with three men, and the second thing being that you laid in their studio to be a personal stress reliever.

When Chan had mentioned free use, you’d been uneducated on the kink altogether. Jisung was the most educated - which didn’t surprise any of you, as he’s a massive freak - and Changbin was just as confused as you were. Researching the kink together showed you that yeah, you’d love to be a toy at their disposal and beck and call whenever they needed you to be. You still had the romantic aspects of the relationship too, which made you more than content.

The rules were simple. You visited them in the studio - something you did everytime they were there, anyway - but if you were comfortable with free use, you were to wear the expensive necklace Changbin bought you. Visible, so they could see it, and then you’d be used as their toy. It was the most subtle form of consent ever, but it worked, and you loved every second of it.

“Fuckin’ song’s pissing me off, Chan,” Changbin walked out of the recording booth, throwing his phone down on the table. He normally got his raps done in one or two takes, and he’d been going for a while now. You’d just been scrolling through your phone on your tummy on the sofa, kicking your feet. You heard Jisung scoff, and then he was chuckling. You always stayed quiet - only speaking when they needed you.

“Take your anger out and then try again,” Chan suggested, trying to be soft with the younger man. Changbin huffed. When you looked at him, he was staring directly at you, muscles bulging in his tight black t-shirt but his hair so soft and eyes tender. “Jisung, you go.”

“But if he’s gonna fuck her I wanna watch-”

“Jisung,” Chan chastised, eyebrows raised when he looked at the youngest. Jisung mumbled a few choice words, and then he was hesitant in getting up to go to the booth. You heard Changbin murmur a few things to Chan, and then he was approaching you on the couch. He didn’t even say anything - content with flipping your skirt up and exposing your cotton panties to the room, and you yelped.

“Gonna have you now,” Changbin murmured, thumb swiping across the gusset of your panties. You immediately locked your phone, tossing it carelessly to the floor and spreading your legs obediently. Changbin chuckled, moving your panties to the side. “That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ toy, bunny.”

You waited patiently, head down on the arm of the sofa as you heard the clinking of a belt being undone and jeans dropping. Fabric rustled as he got closer, and then his muscled forearms were caging you into the leather material you were laying upon. You knew you were wet. You always were, waiting for them like this - you had needed something inside of you as soon as you walked into the room.

“Binnie,” You mumbled, shifting your hips back. He was taking his time. Changbin kissed your cheek fondly, and then he was pushing in, his thick cock stretching you beyond belief. You liked it this way - unprepared, so you could fully feel him. He was the thickest, and you whined as you felt the short, trimmed curls at his base scratching against your ass. He’d already bottomed out.

“Such a good bunny,” He murmured, kissing your neck. You nodded, letting him fuck into you at a steady pace. Jisung and Chan were doing something - you weren’t sure what, since you were preoccupied with a thick fucking cock. Your pussy was so wet along his shaft the slide was heavenly, and you always liked it to be easy for Changbin to push into straight away like this. You were their toy, only spoken to when needed and ready and waiting with a soppy hole. “You've been wet like this the whole time?”

“Always am, Binnie,” You nodded, whimpering as you started to fuck your hips back onto his cock. You knew Changbin liked it like this, when you started to really get into it. You’d never predicted how much being treated like a toy would turn you on. “I love your cock so much, ‘s so thick, Binnie-”

“Ssh, ssh, bunny,” Changbin murmured, grunting when he bottomed out and stayed there for a moment. You wiggled your hips, trying to get more of him in, and he grabbed your hips with unbelievable strength. Changbin was the strongest, but the most hesitant to use his strength - he liked it slow, deep like you were doing then, more passionate. He was the gentlest lover. “Let me fuck into you like this. You think you’ll cum for me?”

Changbin started to thrust into you at a faster pace, wet noises echoing around the room. You gasped when one of his hands went up to grab your tit, squeezing your nipple. “I- yeah, yeah, I can cum like this, y’know I love it deep-”

The sound of feet stomping on the floor caught your attention. When you looked up, Jisung was pouting in the booth, headphones slung around his neck and his eyes wide. “So not fuckin’ fair, Chan. Look at her.”

“Jisung…” Chan murmured, ready to scold him. Jisung only pointed at you, your face in pure bliss as Changbin fucked into you. Changbin’s hand went to lift your hips up a bit, sliding one of the couch pillows underneath and you whined, feeling him pressing against that spongy spot inside of you. Chan spun around on his chair, eyes focusing on where you were writhing in pleasure.

He watched you moan and arch your back, eyes rolling back as Changbin's thrusts became more intense, repeatedly bullying into that one spot. Changbin was grunting, groaning into the crook of your neck. Chan's mouth parted, unable to contain his emotions as he watched you in the throes of pleasure. Jisung was pouting, clearly enjoying the show but wanting so badly to be involved.

“‘M so fuckin’ close, Binnie, so close,” You gasped, and Changbin nodded into your skin.

“C’mon, cum on my cock, my bunny,” He’d started to run his mouth, something that showed he was getting close, too. “Such a good fucking girl, waiting like this for us, just- just fuckin’ letting us do this, I can’t believe you, I love you so much.”

You couldn’t help but bite into the leather of the sofa, your vision becoming unfocused as you came around Changbin’s cock. The orgasm was strong, cumming with your clit untouched always was, and you whined through it with teary eyes. Changbin smacked your ass once, and when his dark, lustful eyes focused on the flesh rippling he was cumming too, a welcome warmth inside your already sodden pussy.

You weren’t done, though. You had two more men waiting to use you, and you couldn’t fucking wait. Changbin pulled out, chest heaving as he tucked his softening length back into his boxers.

He kissed your hairline, humming. “Amazing, bunny. Thank you.”

“Do I get Jisung now?” You murmured, eyes landing on the man still standing in the recording booth. You giggled when he threw the headphones down, bouncing out of the smaller room and over to you, completely bypassing Chan’s shouts of protest. You couldn’t even be shocked when Jisung didn’t say a word, throwing his t-shirt off and yanking his joggers down to his ankles. He nearly tripped over them in his haste to get to you, and Changbin chuckled, finally getting off of the sofa.

“Chan, I don’t think the song’s getting done today,” Changbin said, and Chan sighed, nodding.

“I think I’ve accepted that,” He responded. Jisung flipped you over, hands soft but his eyes so wide as he watched Changbin’s cum dripping out of you. “We may as well have some fun with her.”

“Baby,” Jisung murmured, and you hummed. He was staring down at your pussy, shaking his head in disbelief. “Looks so fuckin’ good, baby, I’m so hard.”

You giggled, spreading your legs wider and using one hand to spread your folds, letting Jisung see your hole. You knew it looked used, stretched after Changbin’s incessant fucking with his thick cock - but there’s nothing Jisung liked more than sloppy seconds. “You gonna get inside, Jisung? I need to cum on your cock, too.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m gonna fuck you senseless, baby, I promise,” Jisung kissed your lips chastely, and then he was pushing inside. Jisung was longer than Changbin, and you gasped when he bottomed out, the curve of him helping to reach that abused spot inside of you so easily. Jisung whined, his bottom lip quivering. “It’s so fucking wet.”

“You’re welcome,” Changbin replied, smug. You scoffed, only smiling in approval when Jisung pushed your legs back to get deeper. You loved this position, especially with Jisung - his cock got so drippy and hard, to the point where sometimes he acted like it was going to kill him. He was lucky you were so pliant. Jisung always fucked quick and hard, hips slamming into you like he couldn’t get enough of it.

Chan's face was flushed, a warmth spreading through his body. He could feel himself painfully hard, his pants constrictive around his erection. He wanted so badly to join in, but he knew he had to stay back and watch. It wasn’t his turn yet.

He had clearly decided he didn’t care. You watched in awe as he shucked his pants off, wrapping one large hand around his cock and pumping at the sight of you. Your pussy was soaking, and you whined, fighting not to make grabby hands at Chan. You wanted him, too, but you hadn’t prepared your ass and you wanted to scream at yourself for it.

“Ji, fuck me harder, baby,” You murmured, and Jisung nodded. You could tell he was close already. He never lasted long when you did scenes like this, too caught up in the way your walls feel fluttering around his cock and he got even worse when he got to go after someone else. He was a freak, but so were you. You whined when his hips picked up, cockhead thrusting into you harder, and you reached one hand down to rub your clit.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s it, touch yourself,” Jisung moaned. You squealed as he thrust in and out of you, your hips rising to meet his. He was relentless in his pursuit of pleasure, his moans becoming louder with each thrust. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you knew you were both about to reach your climax. Your movements were sloppy on your clit with how wet you were, but it was doing the job just fine.

“You like watching me touch myself, Sungie?” You giggled, your other hand moving to grip onto the arm of the sofa. Chan groaned from the computer, and when you turned to look at him, he was shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re fucking filth, you know that?” Chan said, and you nodded.

You pinched your clit meanly, letting yourself moan a little louder. You’d defiled this studio so many times that you were just glad it was soundproof. “You love it.”

“Fuck yeah, we do,” Changbin smirked, bulging arms crossed across his broad chest. He was content just watching, but you couldn’t say the same for Chan. Jisung’s eyes were trained only on where you were rubbing across your clit, his eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m gonna cum, you g’ta cum,” Jisung blabbered, and you nodded, pressing harder on your clit. “Love watchin’ you touch yourself, baby, it’s so fucking sexy. Do you - oh, fuck - do you like being used as a toy by us?”

“Oh, Sungie, I fucking love it,” You whined, walls tightening around Jisung. You were going to cum. “Talk- baby, say more, I’m so fucking close-”

“God, you’re our toy but I’m all yours,” He rambled, hands pulling your hips back on his cock. “I’m all yours, this cock is all yours, it’s hard for you always, Jesus-”

You whined in distress when you felt Jisung cumming inside of you, adding to the mess smearing all over your folds. You hadn’t finished, and you’d expected him to pull out, but Jisung slapped your hand away from your clit and rubbed it with his own thumb. It always felt better having one of your boyfriends touch you, and you clenched your walls tight on his cock as you came undone from the pleasure.

He kissed you deeply, tongue entering your mouth in a filthy exchange before he collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily. You looked up at him and he smiled, kissing your nose fondly before slowly pulling out of you.

Chan sighed, making you turn to him. Your eyes grew wide as he stretched his arms above his head, finally getting up from his seat and stalking towards you.

Jisung giggled, jumping up to sit next to Changbin. “You’re so in for it, baby.”

Chan gripped your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks almost comically. “I’m gonna fuck you hard, and then I’m going to cum inside that pussy so deep it’ll be dripping out for days. Okay?”

You blinked. “Did I piss you off?”

“You always piss me off, gettin’ fucked like that. So sexy, it makes me so fucking angry,” Chan mumbled, and you tried to suppress your smile. You let him manhandle you so you were face down, ass up, and he finally yanked your panties down and threw them to Changbin. He knew he’d want to keep them, but he always bought you another two pairs in apology, so it was alright.

You laid patient while Chan flipped your skirt up further, the pleats tickling the small of your back. He hummed, swiping one thumb through your messy pussy. You felt a little nervous, like you always did with Chan - he was the biggest of the three, and even after being fucked hard by Jisung and Changbin you were a little worried it would hurt. With a quick smack to your ass, Chan was pushing in, his cock stretching you to the point of disbelief.

“Oh, ‘s so fuckin’ big,” You whined, pushing your ass back. Chan chuckled, grabbing your hips with both hands and bottoming out inside of you. You could feel how wet you were, filled up with two loads of cum already and you felt so used. It made you clench around his cock. “You got a daddy sized cock, Channie.”

“Call him daddy then,” Changbin chuckled, and you bit your lip with a smile.

“You wanna be my daddy today, Chan?” You said teasingly, and Chan groaned, his hips starting to kick up a rhythm inside of you. Your smile instantly fell, falling in a blissed out expression with lips parted. Chan always fucked you so good, preferring you on your hands and knees so he could get inside you deep and watch your ass ripple on his hips.

He pushed your head down into the sofa with one hand, picking up his pace and groaning when you tightened in approval. “Pussy’s so fucking tight. How’s it so tight? You just got fucked open like a whore.”

You whimpered, trying not to thrash your legs. “I’m a whore? God, more, say more-”

“Talk dirty to her, Chan,” Jisung chimed in, his hand already back on his hardening erection. “She loves it.”

“I think you are a fucking whore,” Chan scoffed, his hand yanking on your hair. “I think you’re daddy’s whore, aren’t you?”

You gasped, nodding. “I’m daddy’s whore, oh- oh, ‘s so big, fucking hell, daddy!”

Chan positively whined, his lips coming to kiss at your shoulder. His lips were so plush, so thick, you couldn’t help but imagine him wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard - something he did often - and your toes curled. “Clench that cunt for daddy, c’mon. You need to make daddy cum, don’t you? You’re not good for much else, not one thought in that pretty little head.”

Oh, he had you. He knew you so well, knew you’d squeal at the way he’s talking, and you were obedient, clenching your fluttering walls around that fat cock. You still had protest in you yet, though, despite it coming out in fractionated words. “I wan’ cum too, daddy.”

“Changbin,” Chan started, and the man in question hummed in response. “Come kiss her the way she likes.”

You moaned in excitement when Changbin walked back over to the sofa, and then he was pulling your head up by your hair. Changbin always kissed so deeply, so passionately with his plush, doll-like lips, and he let his tongue enter your mouth. You sucked on his tongue, making him moan and grab your head harder. Jisung stared at you both in envy, and then he was walking over too, cock bobbing with a newly formed erection. He had no shame, stroking it right in front of your face as you wailed into Changbin’s mouth.

“Are you gonna cum for your daddy, bunny?” Changbin muttered against your lips, and you gasped, nodding. “I think you better do it quickly then. He may leave you high and dry, y’know?”

“He’s- he’s not that mean,” You protest, shaking your head. “If he does, I’ll go to Binnie.”

“Baby, c’mere,” Jisung sighed, and then he was grabbing your head, making you face his cock. He was pumping it feverishly, matching the pace of Chan’s hips inside of you, and you licked your lips. “I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“God, if you cum on my face, I’m gonna fucking cum,” You keened, and Chan chuckled, smacking your ass.

“I think that answers your question, Sungie,” Chan mused, and Jisung nodded, smiling. His eyebrows were furrowed as he tightened his fist around his cockhead, and then he was throwing his head back, groaning as hot white cum painted your face. You just loved being treated like a slut - you were a self proclaimed whore for these three men, and as soon as the cum hit your face, you felt your walls tighten one last time. You writhed through your orgasm, only kept still by Chan’s harsh grip on your hips.

“Changed my mind,” Chan grunted, and then he was pulling out, tapping his wet cockhead on your asshole. You wiggled your ass as you felt him leak pearlescent drops onto the skin, and he started to pump his cock quickly. “I’m gonna cum on this fuckin’ ass.”

“Mm, do it,” You giggled, pushing your hips back. You felt his balls, heavy and full of cum pressing against your core, and you sighed. “Cum on this ass, daddy, c’mon. Mark it as yours.”

Chan groaned, a deep, chesty noise and then you felt the warmth cover your skin. He gasped through his orgasm, his cockhead leaking all over your ass as he came. You belatedly realised you were positively covered in cum, but the thought only made you smile happily. It’s what you’d gone to the studio for, after all.

You felt your body go lax, finally sated as you collapsed on the leather. Chan rubbed his hand over your hip soothingly, and then he was jumping off the sofa and running around the studio like a maniac. Jisung used his t-shirt to wipe your face, giggling.

“Where the fuck are the wipes? We’re gonna get cum on the sofa, what the fuck-”

“Chan, chill out,” Changbin chuckled. “It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

Jisung shrugged, soft cock still slightly covered in his cum. Or, was it Changbin’s? You weren’t sure. “I can lick it up, y’know-”

“Yeah, sounds great, Sung. Then we get round two, and the song really doesn’t get done, does it?” It was hard to take Chan seriously with his hands on his hips and trousers around his ankles, and you giggled. Chan looked at you, trying to suppress a smile. “Don’t start. You’d love round two, I’m sure.”

“Of course I would,” You stretched on the sofa like a cat, knowing full well you were smearing cum everywhere. Chan groaned, but just shook his head, sitting on the computer chair. “I’m gonna take a nap. Feel free to wake me with cock, guys.”

“Insatiable,” Changbin scoffed, but he kissed your cheek anyway. “Jisung, back in the booth.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m totally ready now, actually. Let’s do this.”

You smiled as you let your head fall back onto the arm of the sofa, and you heard more bickering over the track before you let your eyes close. You were sexually sated, really, but the question was how long that would last.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids kinktober #skz smut #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fic #3racha x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #han jisung fic #seo changbin fic #seo changbin fanfiction #seo changbin smut #seo changbin x reader #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #bang chan smut #bang chan x you #bang chan fic #juno’s fics ♡ #hyunsvngbinitober !

[moremaybank]

SQUIRTING — j.m

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), squirting (duh), overstimulation, language/dirty talk

kinktober masterlist ;; jj masterlist

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“Fuck! Yes, J, don’t stop. ‘M gonna—”

Your words were halted when your orgasm slammed into you. Your release rushed out, juices coating the entirety of JJ’s pelvis. He was almost grinning, elated that he’d gotten you to squirt. His hips didn’t falter, and he only fucked you harder while thumbing at your puffy clit. The smack of his balls against your ass was delicious as he pounded into you and overwhelmed your weeping cunt. 

“J, enough. I need to b-breathe.” Your hand splayed across his abs as you tried to stop him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist and removed it from his torso. 

“We’re not stopping, princess. Lie back and take it.” He pulled out of you, gripping his cock and flicking the head up and down on your clit with vigorous movements. You squealed, feeling your legs start to shake from the stimulation. You felt the coil burning deep in your stomach already, and due to your earlier release, JJ pulled this next one from you with little time and effort. Your juices poured out of you, again and again, so much that you couldn’t believe you were holding all of it inside you. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Look at that, mama. Guess you could take it after all.” 

The smirk on his lips never left as he sank to his knees and pushed his fingers inside of you. The cool metal of his rings pressed against your swollen lips, making goosebumps prick up instantly on your skin. Your hips fussed, writhing around as they tried to escape him, but JJ planted a large palm on your pelvis, keeping you pressed to the mattress. “Stay still. We’re not finished until I say we’re finished.” 

JJ’s pink lips circled your clit, sucking harshly as his fingers punted at that enchanting spot inside you. Your gummy walls quivered against his touch, the heat of your flesh resembling a fire thanks to his magical actions. Cum gushed out of your entrance, soon followed by more of your overflowing juices. 

“J-J, please. I’m tired, can’t give you any more,” you whimpered. Salty tears ran down your cheeks as you mustered up all your remaining energy to lean up onto your elbows. You pouted up at him pathetically, eyes begging for him to take it easy on you and give you a much-needed break. 

His mouth abandoned your bud. “Don’t say that, baby. You can. Know you can. Give it to me, want it all.” 

His fingers didn’t stop from curling up at your g-spot, and he watched you fall back onto the mattress as you cried. Your legs wobbled, losing their strength to remain upright. They closed off to him somewhat, so his hand hooked under the back of your knee and he opened you back up. 

“C’mon. Spray my face, princess. Don’t you wanna taste yourself on me?” His question made your brain fuzzy and more far gone than it already was. The thought of licking up your release from his lips was enough of an incentive to stop fighting, stop resisting. You nodded, still crying as you opened your legs for him further. 

“There we go,” he grinned. “That’s my good girl.” 

He quickened his thick fingers, and his lips wrapped around your clit once more. He sucked and flicked at it with his tongue relentlessly, all while keeping up his efforts on your sweet spot. Your hands wandered, gripping at everything that surrounded you before finding home in JJ’s unruly locks. 

“G-Gonna cum, J,” you warned, your fingers gripping and yanking on his strands. He didn’t answer, but instead, he hummed into you, sending vibrations through your core and up your spine. All he could hear was a loud sob, followed by the sound of you gasping loudly. His eyes flit up to yours, watching them roll back as your thighs squeezed his head. You rolled your hips uncontrollably against his mouth and fingers, squirting again for him. JJ drank it up, your juices coating his tongue. 

“Okay. Okay. No more, J, I—”

Your words died on your tongue when JJ rose from between your legs, his free hand cupping your jaw. His fingers pressed into your cheeks, summoning your lips to part for him. He spat what was left of your juices into your mouth, watching your tongue eagerly dart out past your lips to lick it all up. You whined as JJ’s fingers continued to rut into you, though his pace had slowed. 

“Taste good, don’t you, mama?” 

You nodded, one hand gripping his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Your tongues danced as you strived to taste more of yourself in his mouth. “So good,” you mumbled against his lips. 

“Good enough to go again?” 

You almost glared at him. “I would slap you right now if what you did didn’t feel so amazing.” 

“Joke’s on you. I’d like it.” 

⋆༺♱༻⋆

JJ TAG LIST (JOIN HERE): @pankowperfection @softherveauxs @rafesveryrealgf @findapenny @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @somerandos-world @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @jeyusosgirl @urbestieboo @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @jjmaybanksgun @gillybear17 @abbybarnesstuff @lovelyxtom @camelliaflow3r @dirtytissuebox @rcbuttercup @redhead1180 @conniesanchor @runningfrom2am @drewstarkeysbae @drewstarkeys-whore @sluttycadence @hoeforstarkey24 @violetmacher @eventualoptimism

#꒰ — kinktober ‘23 ꒱ #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank one shot #jj obx #jj maybank obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n #obx smut #obx imagine #obx fic #obx one shot #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks one shot #rudy pankow

[euphoricfilter]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober masterlist

31 days of smut let’s get it °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

please read the warnings for each chapter!!

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

☆ day 1 ~ taehyung: breeding kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink, baby talk (but no actual kids because yuck)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 2 ~ : jimin: pet play

tags/ warnings: pwp, pet play, ass play, fingering of both holes, butt plugs, mild dumbification

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 3 ~ jungkook: thigh riding

tags/ warnings: pwp, thigh riding, cumming untouched, implied use of recreational drugs (weed)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 4 ~ hoseok: somnophilia

tags/ warnings: pwp, somnophilia, consensual drugging, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 5 ~ yoongi: praise kink

tags/warnings: pwp, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, vaginal fingering, cum swallowing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 6 ~seokjin: corruption kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, corruption kink, he’s a little condescending too, just jin teaching you how to touch yourself?, fingering, cumming untouched

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 7 ~ namjoon: double penetration

tags/ warnings: pwp, use of a dildo (the ones that have a hole for fake cum), double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie x2 ?, squirting

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 8 ~ jungkook: size kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, he’s hung okay? whatever you’re thinking make it bigger— he has a fat cock, belly bulge

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 9 ~ taehyung: watersports

tags/ warnings: pwp, watersports (pee), cumming untouched, literally wet and messy

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 10 ~ jimin: cock warming

tags/warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 11 ~ hoseok: oral fixation

tags/ warnings: pwp, fingers in mouth!!!! (lets gooo), oral (m. receiving), cum swallowing, subspace, condescending dom hoseok!!! (lets gooooooo!!!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 12 ~ yoongi: overstimulation

tags/ warnings: pwp, vibrator, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, minor oral? (f. receiving), unprotected sex

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 13 ~ seokjin: creampie

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, cum kink, lil spanking action

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 14 ~ namjoon: face sitting

tags/ warnings: pwp, touched on insecurities, face sitting, namjoon’s a munch, grinding, pleasure dom joon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 15 ~ jungkook: fingering

tags/ warnings: pwp, fingering, a singular slap to the pussy, squirting, cumming untouched, cum swallowing? sort of? cum is ingested basically, all very lighthearted and fun

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 16 ~ taehyung: spit kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, spitting in a mouth (yum?), wet and messy, unprotected sex, creampie

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 17 ~ jimin: mirror sex

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, fingering, exhibitionism? kinda, they just fuck in a public gym, the panties stayed on, finger in mouth !!!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 18 ~ hoseok: squirting

☆ day 19 ~ yoongi: free use

☆ day 20 ~ seokjin: spanking

☆ day 21 ~ namjoon: voyeurism

☆ day 22 ~ jungkook: exhibitionism

☆ day 23 ~ taehyung: knotted dildo

☆ day 24 ~ jimin: role play

☆ day 25 ~ hoseok: primal play

☆ day 26 ~ yoongi: shibari

☆ day 27 ~ seokjin: vibrator

☆ day 28 ~ namjoon: cum stuffing

☆ day 29 ~ jungkook: pantie kink

☆ day 30 ~ taehyung: belly bulge

☆ day 31 ~ yoongi: mask kink

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts kinktober #jungkook smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #seokjin smut #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #namjoon fic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts #hoseok fanfic