| lotus | 18 | she/her | african | fem!reader + gn!reader + black!reader | rock lee x reader prophet | armin and connie's gf | itachi's lady | denki's sweet escape | solange enthusiast | beyoncé's baby | sade top listener | frank ocean's leading lady |
⋆.˚ sideblog here! -> @letters4lotus
࣪˖➹﹑GENERAL NOTES ࣪˖➹﹑
i mainly write for naruto, but i'm around aot, jjk, mha, demon slayer, and gachiakuta – i will write for them if prompted. here is a list of things i do not write about! i write fluff, smut, and angst.
spam my inbox. give me requests. ASK TO BE MY MOOT! i love moothood, and i love seeing your thoughts and ideas. it may take me time, but i will get back to you. and if i don't get back to you, that means you just asked me some bs!
writing can be a little slow, but do not hesitate. you will never bother me. 🪷
hi lotus, i dont wanna bother u so u can ignore this if its creepy 😭 do u study in the UK? i just think its cool that one of my fav writers is also doing undergrad :)
plz plz it's okay nonnie, i'm not going to kill you for your curiosity. i do. from september, i'm gonna be a russell group warriorrrr i cant wait
omg this may sound weird but i literally read all of your fics in like an hour and im actually going to cry. no one writes for naruto characters anymore and the fact that your an ACTIVE writer is so much better. but yeah thanks for your service 🫡 and girl KEEP WRITING!!!!! you are my shakespeare and thanks for letting me rant!!! 🤍😭😭
FIRST AND FOREMOST: this doesn't sound weird at all! my heart, you should know that I was smiling to myself while i was reading this. sometimes i have days where i run low on motivation, and it's kind comments like yours that help me find the drive. this is very meaningful and SO flipping sweet, you don't even know 🩷
i'll always be holding it down for naruto! and the inbox is always open to you. love love love uuuuu 👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾
ahhh i got my exam results back earlier today... guess who's going to be doing a bachelors in international relations instead of law...
i'm lowkey feeling a little sad bc i missed my offer so narrowly. i had a scholarship and everything. i needed ABB, I got AAC... but either way im feeling so blessed bc it's an excellent university regardless... such is life 🩷
cw: nsfw under the cut, sub!jabber, dom!reader, descriptions of reader giving hickeys, descriptions of reader slapping jabber, teasing, minor mentions of blood, pussyjob, orgasm denial, descriptions of reader choking jabber, creampie, not set in canon!
- ‧₊ it's a well-known, and undeniable fact to everybody in the room that you treasure yourself and surround yourself with nothing but beauty. so much so, that you have ended up becoming it's incarnation wrapped in pink.
- people notice you, and how everything about you begins and ends in a seamless transition.
- from the style your hair is done in, to your makeup. your two-toned lips, finished with bubblegum-scented gloss. your manicured nails. the soft rosy hues that compose the palette of your outfits, down to the minute details of jewellery shining against your rich complexion. everything falls into perfect alignment.
- they also notice the beaming extent of your charm, how bubbly you are; your overall pleasant demeanour. to them, there is no deception. you're just as sweet as you look.
- which is why it's so hard for everyone to understand that you're with jabber, of all people.
- jabber, who's built a reputation for being erratic in nature. jabber, whose intense energy precedes your warm aura. jabber, whose very existence serves to juxtapose your own.
- at least on a surface level.
- people don't know that when the doors are shut, you and jabber are more alike than different. your reasoning for being with him grows more apparent the further you get from their curious eyes.
- the instant he enters your room, your sugary exterior gets washed away to reveal the side of you that's been hiding all day. it's the version of you that rises to match jabber in vulgarity.
- and every single time, jabber finds it absolutely thrilling that you can transform so quickly and deceive everybody around you.
- even down to the princess-like sanctuary of your bedroom.
- pink walls, a sade poster, and carpet that's soft on the feet. the queen-sized bed is draped in pale pink sheets, and adorned with silken pillows. your huge vanity is lined up with flower bouquets (courtesy of jabber), perfume bottles and makeup brushes scattered haphazardly.
- but the things you do with jabber in there are anything but princess-like.
- he knows he'll bear the brunt of your lust when he hears the door shut from behind you. you size him up with nothing but a downward sweep of your eyes, and he's obsessed with how small you make him feel without even saying a word.
- you shove him onto your bed like he weighs nothing to push, and he can already feel the blood rushing to his hardening dick. it's something about having his strength challenged by a tender lady like you that really gets him going.
- his heart races rapidly when you sit on him with knees planted on either side of his hips, and rock the outline of your pussy against him. your silk robe opens just enough to reveal the skin of your thighs, and when he attempts to touch you, a harsh slap lands across his face.
- your slap elicits a groan from him, and you can feel his clothed dick throb through your panties. it makes you grind harder against him.
"i didn't say you could touch me, jabber."
"no," he smirks, teeth sinking into his lower lip. "you're right, ma'am. you didn't tell me to do shit at all."
"so why did you think it was acceptable to touch me?" slap! your hand strikes his other cheek. "you're smarter than this," you lean in closer to whisper in his ear. "why did you act like i said all that, hm?"
"fuck," he hisses softly at the sweet sting. "can't help myself when you're on top of me like this, doll.." he inhales the scent of cocoa butter on your neck and purrs in your ear. "you gonna put me in my place?"
"you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you scoff. "you're fucking disgusting." he swears he could get high from the venom laced in your words.
- your fingers grip around his thick locs, dragging his neck back to expose the vulnerable column of his throat. jabber can't stop moaning at the tension he feels against his scalp, in conjunction with your covered clit rubbing against him.
"you want this." you chide, plump lips curve into a smirk.
- warm breath ghosts over the side of his neck, mapping the flesh. the warmth gets quickly replaced by teeth grazing above where the breath lingered. they're just sharp enough to make him gasp while you dig into his flesh. your mouth then seals over the area, sucking hard.
- the throbbing pain in jabber's neck blooms into a pleasure that gets stronger for every blood vessel your suction bursts. jabber is insatiable at this point. the whites of his eyes are on full display as he rolls his irises back, and he's rutting against you as if he wants to merge with you; to become one.
- but you put an end to his senseless desire. you're pulling away from his neck, admiring the artful mosaic of darkening marks against his skin. a visible sign of your power over him, and his reminder that he belongs to you. you have to remind him where he stands.
"you're getting carried away," you tut at him. "it's pathetic, jabber. you keep doing the most..."
"fuck," he growls. "and whose fault is that? you're the one all over my body, baby. you really gonna blame me for that?" there's a deliberate defiance in his tone—the kind that jabber knows will get a rise out of you. and to rub salt into the wound, he smirks at you, and jerks his hips harder against you.
- but deep down, you enjoy this game of push-and-pull you both play.
- he teases you, and you give in. not only into his desires, but also into yours when you hook your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, and pull them down to release his throbbing dick from the confines of fabric.
"finally," his breath hitches as his dick slaps against his tummy, "fuck, fuck, fuck..."
"yeah, that's it, baby..." for a moment, your encouragement actually sounds sincere.
- he leans up with his hands reaching for your hips on instinct, but before he can touch you, you slap his hands away.
a scoff escapes your lips. "you really thought."
- the silk robe comes off, leaving your nudity on a clearer display for him. your eyes never part once from his when you hook a finger around your lacy panties, pulling them to the side with an intentional, agonising slowness that reveals the wetness of your pussy. the sight of essence, slowly trickling onto his skin, makes him tremble.
"do you want this, jabber?" your tone is sultry, like music to his ears.
"yes ma'am," he wantonly huffs. "i do."
"hmm... do you really, though?"
- you hover over him, with arms on either side of his head. his pulse is dangerously loud as you approach, and you note the rapidly increasing rise and fall of his chest. you know that this is more than just a mere want. it's a necessity that your boyfriend would do just about anything to have. the tip of his cock is blushing furiously at you, leaking out glossy precum as if it's going to burst if left untouched.
you stare at yourself in the reflection of his dilated pupils as he begs you. "please, please, please... i really do, y/n... you're driving me out of my fucking mind..." he's clutching onto your sheets in an effort to be good for you, but it's no use when the hot tears in his eyes betray him by falling.
- pitiable. just pitiable. and you wouldn't have it any other way. you lick a stripe along his face, catching the tears, before pressing your mouth onto his. moans pass between your meeting lips, with tongues tangling together like barbed wire. he tastes the sweetness of your lip gloss, and you taste the saltiness of his tears. and now, as you bite down on his lip to draw blood, you can both the taste the faintest slither of copper. it all fuses together into one addictive flavour profile, and once you're both done memorising the taste, you pull away, gasping for air.
your thumb traces gently over his swollen lip. "look at you..."
- you sit up and return to your initial position, squatting above jabber's erection. your soft fingers wrap around the shaft of his hard length, and he pulses at the sight of your pink manicured nails contrasting against his brown dick. you place it in perfect alignment with your pussy, lowering your hips in doing so, but he groans when he realises that you're not putting it in just yet. instead, your pussy lips are pressing against his length, slick with his precum, and your essence.
"y/n..." he moans out. you shush him softly while your clit rubs against the veiny ridges of his cock. the more the slippery friction between you accumulates, the more frequent his moans become. "fuck, if ya keep that up... i'm gonna..."
as soon as he makes that announcement, you pull his cock away from between your labia. "you're gonna what, hm?" you can't help but laugh when he groans and throws his head back in frustration. "you're not gonna do shit unless i tell you to, jabber. remember that."
- you grab onto his shaft, but this time around, his tip connects to your entrance. you sink down onto him, engulfing his dick inch by inch into your tight warmth. you bite down on your sweet lips at the stretch, and waste no time in squatting up and down, coating his cock in your slick.
- jabber's shame knows no bounds when he moans your name repeatedly into the air like a prayer as you ride him. his hungry eyes are fed when he sees the glow of your rich skin, and your supple breasts bouncing.
"slow down?" your hand strikes his face. "i finally give you what you want, and you're out here telling me what to do? you slap him again. "you ain't shit." he moans. "mmm, no... i ain't, ma'am."
- instead of taking his useless suggestion, you decide to pick up the pace. the sounds of skin slapping on skin, and wet squelching rips through the simultaneous harmony of jabber's moans and your soft pants. you're squeezing against him perfectly, and you can feel him reaching your sweet spot every time you slam down on top of him.
- you smile, slowly and wickedly, with unblinking eyes that meet his half-lidded ones. your hand sneaks around his neck and squeezes around it, causing him to let out a choked gasp. you notice the way his abs spasm from beneath you, and you choke him even harder, to the point where you can feel his heartbeat against your fingertips.
"oh jabber..." you coo mockingly, with pouting lips. "you gonna cum already?" you continue slamming into him relentlessly.
"a-are you going to let me?" he chokes out.
- you ignore him for a few moments, opting to tighten your pussy and clench around his length as you take him in and out with harder bounces. his face contorts in overwhelming pleasure, feeling light-headed from the lack of air.
- the pleasure is almost too much. jabber swears he can hold on, but the moment you release his throat and say "yes," he cums with a sob, his hot release spilling into the depths of your pussy as his body trembles. your climax soon follows, and your pussy grips around him so tight, he can feel the circulation in his dick cut off, squeezing the life out of him the same way your hand was around his throat seconds ago. you're both throbbing against each other, and his seed is leaking out of you and spilling onto your pristine pink sheets.
- silence fills the room, save for the faint sounds of your shared breaths. you lift your hips to pull his dick out of you, and you watch as the cum slowly oozes out. you both bite your lips at the sight, and moan with closed mouthes.
- it's almost like you were never a bloodthirsty vixen when you lean over to press a soft kiss on the corner of jabber's lips.
- and that's what he adores about you.
- your duality. the fact that you're able to balance both sides of your nature flawlessly. you, an already sweet girl, dipped in honey. soft on herself and spoiled, wrapped in pink.
- no one would guess that you'd also be the same person who leaves these hickeys on his neck. that you're the same person who cuts into his flesh with nothing but your words. that you take his breath away—literally. they don't know that you send a burning sting through his body with every slap you give.
- ‧₊ you're his girlfriend, he's your boyfriend. and you're both exactly where you want to be.
nearly maxed out tags cus i’m crazy and just have so much love in my heart i wanted to tag everyone but i had to condense so i’m sorry if i missed anyone also but just know i love you all so bad
also a lot of you i haven’t interacted with in a long time and i feel bad abt that🙁 and some ppl that i tagged haven’t even been active since last year or longer like omg pls come back soon i miss you guys 😣😣
OMG THANK YOU SM BABY I MISS INTERACTING WITH YOU TOO<\3
my most favourite people here🙂↕️: @cherryvvave @moviecritc @bloomcissa @cryptic-doe @rh1nestcned @lechelovestoyap @luviery @vianawaits @scissorhvnds @dreamersentity @kamislop @batwngs @sakunai @mystiquevoid @1nsignia @patientofarkhamasylum @arfemiz @froggibus @tinafication @bitemysin @torupng @brinawing @biovomit @evilmanhater @gr0und-zer00 (i'm sorry if i didn't tag someone, but know that you're very dear to me too<3)
i feel like i don't say it enough, but i love you all, and y'all are very very dear to me. here on tumblr i found the community i feel sort of belonging to and with who i have experienced peak girlhood♥️
GAH STOP THIS IS SO SWEET siri how do i tag all of my 150+ mutuals-
i'm going to tag some of my babygirls and if i miss some PLEASE DON'T TAKE IT PERSONALLY i love and cherish all my lovely mooties :( even if we don't interact much
AWWWGHHH thank you so much for the tags my loves!!!! @moviecritc @rengoatku 👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾
sending my love back to you, and sending my love forth to @t1track @cr0wcaller @arabella0001 @foryuiwill @sakunai @baekhyoris @ilytsasuke @yvess4int @itachispetrock @itachiswifeyyy @kankuroskitty @keniscrepes @arfemiz @ichxraaa @sophieswish @doodleoodlenoodlecaboodle @mewstoned @paperdiary @bbatxc @caliwa-chan @fieeee888 @p1nk1epie67 @hornsda @sundaysschild @momoinspace @chwerryl @miniaturedonkeygardenllama @liv-2vicous
Hii, how are you? I just found your account, and I was wondering if you could do a smut with Shikamaru where the reader is insecure about her bush (idk if this is weird for you 😭) and her weight cause she's mid sized? Please.
shikamaru couldn't care less about how your body looks. OR... shikamaru fucks you until he's sure you understand him. (2.8k words) (ask)
content: fem!reader, midsized!reader/chubby!reader, pre-established relationship, mentions of stretch marks, mentions of pubic hair, kissing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pillow method, creampie
your boyfriend is a genius.
it's no secret that shikamaru is a logician through and through, led by his keen intellect and his razor-sharp perception. in some moments, those qualities felt like a blessing. he could discern even the slightest of changes in your emotions, and save you from the discomfort of poisoning the air with your thoughts.
but in this moment, those exact same qualities felt like a curse.
there's nowhere to hide beneath his watchful gaze. he's on top of you, stripped down to his boxers, staring down at you as you lay with your back to the mattress. the two of you had kissed and kissed until your lips grew tender. it was only natural that your throbbing pussy would grow wet with desire under your clothes, and you couldn't blame shikamaru either, with his concealed erection pressing itself against your core.
it was inevitable—shikamaru would hunger for more, and you would eventually cave in too. you couldn't distract him forever though, and you knew that. nothing could ever distract him once he had recognised a pattern.
every instinctive tug of your shirt over your belly; every hand that reached for the bedside lamp to turn it off before he could see your skin; and every instance where you've refused to get fully undressed: shikamaru had noticed it all. he had studied you long enough for the truth to reveal itself, and he couldn't tolerate your elusiveness any longer.
he pauses before cutting the silence with his voice, low and collected.
"you've been doing that all evening." and all the other times too, he wants to say, but he stops himself.
"doing what?" you asked him.
“hiding from me.” he answers softly.
knowing shikamaru, he had probably been building the evidence for this case for a while. he isn’t the type of person to carelessly throw out statements without evidence to back it up. you start to wonder how long he had known. you wonder if your insecurity had really been that obvious. there's nothing to gain from lying at this stage, but you try your hand at denial anyway.
“i’m not hiding from you, shikamaru.”
“yeah, but you are," he answers swiftly. "you get tense every time my hands go somewhere you’ve decided isn’t allowed, you always want the lights off, and we haven’t done anything except kiss for the last hour or so.”
his tone lacks biting accusation or any venom. it's steady, it's straightforward, and that arguably feels worse. he's reading you so easily, like you're an open book with large text.
“so, what part of you is it?" he continues. "what am i not meant to look at?”
his eyes, usually listless, begin to simmer with the slightest intensity. you can feel your face growing warm. “shikamaru… can’t we j–”
“no.” he speaks firmly. “not until you tell me, y/n. i’d rather deal with whatever you’ve got going on right now than accept what little of yourself you’ve been giving me.”
your heart feels like it’s in your ears, what with how loud it’s beating. you want to scream at him for putting you on the spot like this. you want to storm out of this room, but that’s not possible. the only way out of this situation would be to go through it.
and so, you confess about your insecurities to the best of your ability. your weight, your shape, your stomach, your stretchmarks, your anything and everything.
shikamaru doesn’t mind your inability to maintain eye contact with him as your eyes dart around the room. your voice is small, suffocating underneath the extent of your vulnerability, but it still manages to reach his patient ears.
he takes a moment to process what you’ve just said. some more seconds pass before he finally opens his mouth.
“is that it? that’s what’s been going on in that pretty head of yours?”
it takes you everything you have just to nod. shikamaru then takes both of your wrists in his grasp, and slowly moves them away from your body, pinning them gently against the mattress. he drinks in the sight of your figure with his love-softened eyes, up and down, and he struggles to fathom how you could possibly find fault with yourself.
he speaks calmly. “you should know that it doesn’t bother me at all.”
“really?” you half-whisper, still feeling shy from the way his eyes left a trail over your body. “you don’t think i should lose weight or anything?”
“no,” he echoes. “look at me.” your eyes settle on his. “it doesn’t matter. i think you should eat when you’re hungry, and i think you should drink when you're thirsty. i think you should keep doing everything you already do…”
he leans further down, gradually sealing the distance between your faces. his breath is warm, and tinged with tobacco. “...except worry. you’re making yourself miserable thinking about things that don’t matter.” he lets go of your wrists. “don’t move them, alright?” you obey him. you trust him.
shikamaru moves away, giving his hands all the time they need to work on ridding yourself of your clothes, starting with your shirt. his fingertips grip onto the hem of the fabric and pull upwards, revealing your skin little by little until your top half is exposed to the cool air of the room.
goosebumps raise on your skin. the sight of you couldn’t be any more enticing than it already was to him. his eyes are already locked onto the delicate lace over your plump breasts, each sitting pretty like gifts he wants to unwrap and sink his teeth into.
shikamaru wishes that you could see yourself the way he does. he’s trying his hardest not to lose every ounce of his self-control right now, but it’s hard—he’s hard—especially when you look like a dream that he doesn’t have to wake up from.
“you don’t need to change for my sake. i chose you. and if i wanted someone that looked different, i wouldn’t waste your time or mine.” he leaves no room for discussion with that tone, but it doesn't stop you from bargaining regardless.
“i don't believe you...”
"i know you don’t. not yet, anyway." he moves to unbutton your pants, gesturing for you to raise your hips so he can pull them off. he doesn't cut eye contact while doing so.
"then why tell me?"
you can feel your legs closing in an attempt to shrink yourself—to hide, even though you’re on his bed, at his mercy. he stops you immediately, seizing your knees in his hands and parting your legs to reveal the damp spot that's grown on your panties.
"because it's true."
shikamaru brings his face close to yours, and presses a kiss to your forehead. "you don't have to believe me right now.” he croons in your ear. “as troublesome as it is, i'll keep telling you until you do.”
he knew that if he wanted you to understand his message, being lazy wouldn’t cut it. his actions would have to align with his words seamlessly.
shikamaru dipped his head to the crook of your neck and tasted the sweetness of the flesh there, relishing in it with every swirl of his tongue, and with every gentle nip of his teeth. you gasp sharply underneath him, arching your back and pressing your chest against his. he can feel the obstruction of your bra against his skin, and in one singular motion, he unclasps it, and throws it on the floor as if he resents it for hiding your beauty.
his insatiable hands are all over you: they feel the soft swell of your tummy; they grip plushness of your round hips; and they trace the map of stretchmarks that decorate your skin. he didn’t know what he loved the most, but he chose to settle his hands over the expanse of your heavy breasts and kneaded them, with his calloused thumbs circling your nipples, eventually rolling them between thumb and forefinger until they hardened and grew stiff with need. he kissed a path from your neck to your chest and to your breasts, making your breath waver.
your moans are his encouragement as he takes a nipple in his mouth, his tongue rolling around the sensitive bud. while he frees your slick nipple to lap at your other breast, one of his hands teases the hot space between your legs. his fingers trace the outline of your pussy lips and your throbbing clit.
“please, y/n,” he leaves open-mouthed kisses down the sloping curves of your stomach until he reaches your bellybutton, stopping just above the hem of your panties. “tell me what you want.” he looks up at you through his lashes, with eyes full with passion that’s exclusively reserved for you.
“shikamaru. hold on…”
he’d be right to notice the hesitation in your voice. you’re becoming uncomfortably aware of how close his mouth is to the warmth hidden behind your panties. it makes you sit up.
he stops immediately, raising his head up from between your legs. “what is it?”
“i didn’t shave.” you swallow. “i’m sorry, i just… i forgot to. and i totally get it if you wanna stop…”
"you have no idea. i don't want to stop at all." he speaks calmly, smoothing his hands over your legs while doing so. "it's hair, woman. it's supposed to be there. if i stopped, what kind of man would that make me, hm? i'd be a dishonest man who doesn't really love you. do you understand?"
if there's one thing shikamaru always succeeds at doing, it's bringing you back down to earth with nothing but kindness. "i do."
"so lay back down. it's okay, y/n."
when you do as he says, he presses kiss after kiss along your inner thighs. the feeling of his lips are soft and sweet against your skin, and it blossoms into thinly veiled hunger once they reach the fabric-draped outline of your clit.
shikamaru is quicker to finish what he starts. this time, his fingers peel you out of your panties without any protest on your behalf. you're beautiful in all of your untampered glory: pulsing, dripping, and natural with coarse hair adorning you from your mound to your lips.
"god, you're gorgeous," he pants. "the prettiest."
shikamaru practically sinks his head into you. he shuts his eyes and allows himself to get lost in the taste of you as he swipes his tongue, over and over and over against your clit in crashing waves. his nose brushes against your pubic hair as his mouth shows you the greatest pleasure you've ever known. the feeling of it is unforgettable, and unlike anything your hands could do in your free time.
you buck your hips up, gasping his name as you tug on his ponytail. it makes him groan against your folds. you curl your toes and dig your other hand into the sheets as the vibration sweeps over your body.
"shikamaru," you moan, breathily. he already knows how close you are, just from your tone of voice alone. his tongue moves in more controlled circles around your clit. he opens his eyes just to watch you fall apart on his tongue. he hooks his arms around your thighs to pull you in, pressing his mouth impossibly closer against your weeping pussy.
you throw your head back, crying out incoherencies as blinding pleasure captures you. it feels like there's lightning in your legs as you tremor and spasm against him; like there's static in your mind with your orgasm taking you by storm. shikamaru took his time, savouring the taste of your essence flowing from you. he had been waiting for this for so long, and it was finally here. it tasted like nectar, and it felt water after a drought. he can't believe he missed out on this.
he gives your clit a departing kiss before moving his body back onto the bed, hovering right above you. shikamaru's lips are glossy with you, and you can taste yourself when he kisses you like he's grateful for you. you're his girl. his brave, brave girl.
"can't believe you ever thought i'd get put off by you," he breathes. shikamaru balances on one forearm, using his free hand to pull off his underwear. his dick springs out, eager to please you. it's been hard the moment you got here, and even before that, since he couldn't help but fantasise about you. you can feel the weight of it settling between your slick folds, grinding slowly.
"that's what you do to me." you hum at his words.
he kisses your temple, then stares intently into your eyes. "are you ready for me?" he asks. he really hopes you are. he could make you feel even better if you gave him the chance to be inside you. and thank goodness, you are. with your eyes locked on his, you nod slowly with all the certainty you lacked earlier.
the slightest grin forms on shikamaru's lips. "there she is."
with one hand, he guides the head of his cock into you, just deep enough to give your wanting pussy to cling onto. you hiss inwardly at the glorious feeling. you try to take more of him inside you by bucking your hips up, but shikamaru stops you, pushing a firm hand down onto your tummy to keep you settled. he knows that if you keep doing that, he'll cum quicker than he wants to.
"let me do this for you." he strains.
he pushes inside of you in a singular, continuous thrust that feels like pure reward. you're tight around him, and the pressure he feels around his length makes his breath spill against your skin. he fills you perfectly, and the stretch feels heavenly as he buries himself to the hilt. you don't think it can get any better than this—the closeness of your bodies, your soft flesh against his toned body, your shared breaths mingling, the way he cradles your precious face,— but it does.
shikamaru sets a languid rhythm, fucking you with long and deep strokes. the angle is nothing short of perfection when he rolls his hips into your pussy, reaching that sweet spot so deep, you can swear you see heaven.
shikamaru's senses are left to burn at the sight of you beneath him; with sweet lips parted, full breasts bouncing, and soft tummy rippling. your moans do nothing but fan the flames that have sparked in his ears. the feeling of you is driving him wild with desire.
"you feel too good," he rasps, kissing the crook of your neck. "you are too good. too good to be hiding from me."
he doesn't lose his momentum at all when he lifts your hips, stacking pillows beneath your pelvis to keep them elevated while he drives his dick into you—harder, faster. the precision of his thrusts are even more lethal, and the depth of his greedy cock inside you stretches longer than you could ever imagine. you're getting wetter by the minute. you're worried your brain will melt with all this pleasure. he's fucking you silly, and the only word you can manage on your lips is his name.
shikamaru is just as drunk on your pussy, as you are drunk on his dick. his forehead is pressed against yours. he doesn't mind that your tugging hands have undone his ponytail, and you don't mind the dark strands brushing against your face as he slams into you. he steals a kiss from you before speaking against your lips.
"i know you want to cum," he pants. "i want to see you cum. will you let me see you?"
you nod the best you can. "yes," you gasp. "please, please, please…"
shikamaru groans when he feels your soaking pussy clench around him, sucking him in like it doesn't want his cock to escape. you're cumming with his name falling from your mouth, and it's the best sound he's ever heard. it's the final nail in the coffin that makes him cum on the spot too. he stuffs the entirety of his pulsing length inside of you, snapping his hips for a final time to let his warm cum flood your womb. the aftershocks of your orgasm continue to milk him dry, and he groans again.
you're both skin-to-skin, exchanging sweat, exchanging uncut gazes and puffs of breath for a few minutes in a world that feels like there's only you two, and nobody else.
he presses a lingering kiss on your forehead. "besides, i always said that guys like girls with more meat on their bones." when he earns your laughter, he kisses you again.
you both hum: shikamaru when he (unwantingly) pulls out of your spent pussy, and yourself when you're forced to cope with the feeling of emptiness he left behind.
shikamaru sits up, allowing his adoring gaze to slide over your stunning body, and for once, you don't feel the need to hide. you don't feel the need to make excuses.
because now, you believe that he really loves you. and he really wants to show you... all over again.
a/n: writers block has been beating my ass #sorry for the prolonged pauses.....
i got an anon request to write for a mid-sized reader, but it also happens to account for chubby!readers too. this is my first time writing for a bigger reader and i was deathly afraid of fucking up. i went through subreddits trying to gain insight oh my god. plz lmk how i did and if there's anything I can do to improve. ily, thank you!!!
is there anything you won’t write for? like do you have a list? I requested something a while ago but I’m lowk scared that it was smth stupid and ur one of my fav authors on here so I just gotta know😭
ohhh nonnie! don't be scared, this wasn't my intention, it's on me. i should've made it clear what i don't write. this post will serve as clarification for you and anyone else looking to send me requests.
‧₊ ⊹ i do not write about: incest, rape, pedophilia, CNC, EDs, SW (including strippers and OF), RPF, omegaverse, and anything about age regression. i also do not write about minors, and i don't believe in "aging up" characters.
i am absolutely ignoring your request if any of these are involved! i'm happy to write anything else, though. 🪷
content: fluff, hurt/comfort, reverse comfort, non-sexual intimacy, bathing/washing, sharing a bed, cuddling, undefined relationship, kakashi has attachment issues, flashbacks, ptsd symptoms, kissing, kakashi is slightly clingy, minor character study
w/c: 2.4k words
ˎˊ˗ art credit: @sso_s__ on twitter
the latch on your window lifted without so much as a click. the cool gusts of night air precede kakashi, as one of his hands settled against the windowsill, swiftly followed by the quiet sweep of his sandals. he lands on your floorboards. the wood beneath his feet never creaked when he dropped himself off through your window with practised ease. the same way you never bothered to look up when the sounds of a shutting window that you never opened reacquainted themselves with your ears.
though tonight, he didn't veer any further than the spot he landed on. he simply settled, almost as if anchored to it.
the ninja in your room remained crouched, with his breathing slow and heavy. his mask and uniform were desecrated with dirt, and defiled with dried blood. whether it was his own or that of another's, you couldn't completely tell. kakashi seems more like a walking riddle than a man right now, with his eyes fixed to the floor, staring idly at the space between his feet. he lacked the piercing glances one might expect an anbu-nin scanning for danger to have. at best, he seemed contemplative, and at worst, he seemed dejected. your own feet meet the floor, sacrificing the warmth of your bed on a pursuit to conduct a more personal investigation.
kakashi indulges your curiosity. he doesn't move away from you, not a single inch. your sight is first greeted with tufts of white hair, stained with whatever the crude world decided to mark him with. he still doesn't move when you bend your knees slightly, reaching downwards to grasp his shoulders. you can feel him shiver at your touch.
he still makes a battle out of looking at you, still appearing insistent on staring at the floor. it felt like the dark circles painted under his eyes, with exhaustion rooted deep into his flesh, were weighing his own gaze down. it only ceases when your hand—as soft as ever—grips the underside of his chin and guides his head upwards.
neither of you spoke. you both didn't need to. and for that, kakashi felt thankful. he withdrew, and often made it a statement to push people away, should he suffer even more loss. he didn't want the weight of grief to grow heavier on his shoulders, as strong as they were. but even so, he couldn't help visiting you when the sun fell, and the moon rose. it felt natural. kakashi couldn't help but to be selfish.
you were his sanctuary. his comfort. his, and his alone.
he tried not to take advantage of your kindness. the time between each of his visits would grow longer and longer, but like a moth to a flame, he would always find himself at your place. he reckons it's some form of self-punishment, but it doesn't feel like that when the lights of your room entice him to come in and make himself feel at home. it doesn't feel like self-punishment when you show him a night's tenderness after a day's terror. the pilgrimages he takes to see you are wrought with pain and isolation, and yet, he doesn't have any regrets taking that troublesome trip.
"come." your voice falls like rain on parched soil.
his heart flutters at the sound of your command. he finally rises, revealing the full extent of his height. the hand you once had on his chin is now holding his hand, tugging it. you guide him to your bathroom, and he follows obediently.
kakashi's towering frame has become the centerpiece in your bathroom. his figure emanates strength and power, though the sullen energy that radiates from him tells you the opposite. you stand on your tip-toes to unclasp his mask, but your emergency inches of spare height simply aren't enough. in an act of mercy, kakashi leans forwards—his face coming closer to yours. he could have very well taken it off himself, but he finds pleasure in your care. he wants you to do it.
pale hair tickles your face. you can hear a tinny sigh held back by his porcelain mask. your fingers slip beneath the strap at the back of his head, and with a snap, the mask is freed from his face. it's merely one of many masks that kakashi has at his disposal.
this porcelain mask conceals kakashi, the shinobi.
and the additional fabric mask beneath conceals kakashi, the man.
he allows you to see him for what he is. he allows you to slide the cloth off his face and draw it away completely. in exchange, you allow him to live without the need to shield himself. you do not gawk at him, nor do you marvel over seeing the face that is the subject of conjecture. you let him be.
"may i?"
it's hard to say no to you. he nods his head without a second thought.
you continue to break him down, with your hands moving to the fastenings at his shoulders where straps kept his armoured vest in place. one clasp loosened, then the other. undone, the armour clinked as it dropped to the floor, next to the mask. it carried the weight of his job; of every mission he survived; and every order he had followed. and now, it was left on your floor.
holster. kunai. sword. arm guards.
one by one, they were all quick to accompany each item after the next into the growing pile of items that burdened kakashi, until all there was left were clothes.
the fabric of his suit folds in on itself as you pull it down. it reveals a muscular carving of skin that's bruised in some places, and scarred in others. he's stood in your bathroom, wearing nothing but his underwear. piece by piece, you had been chipping away at your anbu-nin until all that was left was a man underneath.
and that was the standard whenever he came over. the outside world didn't matter. his names, titles, responsibilities, everything. it got left behind on your bedroom window, and it would be waiting for him at the break of dawn. but for a few hours, but for now, he could be as close to normal as this world allows. he could seek comfort from a person with flesh, instead of talking to an unanswering, cold stone.
with the lightest touch, your knuckles smooth a trail against his torso as you look for injuries. a lot of the old bruises you saw on his last visit have healed, which brings you relief. you can hear your own voice in the back of your head telling him to be careful. maybe he really did listen to your nagging. it makes you smile a little.
"clean yourself up. you need it, kakashi. how about i prepare something for you to eat while you're here? you must be hungry." you suggest.
you have always offered kakashi the freedom to shower alone, but as he stands in front of the running shower, he almost looks pained at the offer. it's nearly comical. kakashi, crowned with the moniker of 'friend killer,' is looking at you as if you've kicked one of his ninken. the same anbu captain who could walk alone into enemy lines without fear, was finding the prospect of being alone more daunting than any mission assigned to him.
your heart aches.
"i know you don't want to be alone… but you know i won't be far, kakashi."
"will you come back?"
you're surprised at how easily that question comes out of his mouth. as if it doesn't go against his moral fibre. he spent years convincing himself that solitude was the safer option, and yet, he wants you to be around. even if it's just for a shower that won't last past a couple of minutes.
"of course i will, kakashi. always."
he doesn't break eye contact while you speak. you end up breaking it with the turn of your body anyways, but you can still feel his stare searing into your back.
"kakashi." your voice is firm. "i'll be here."
and he believes you.
blood, blood, blood.
without anybody to shield him from the danger that is his mind, it's easier for him to be swept by threats of the past trickling into his present. every droplet of water that falls on his trembling skin is red in his head. blood, blood, blood. he can taste the iron in his mouth, he can feel its ugly, warm viscosity seeping into his flesh and staining his skin. it won't go away. the blood he bears for the sins he committed outside have followed him into your fortress of sanity, and it's all his fault. it won't go away.
with his sunken head in his hands, and with the warm water falling onto his hair, kakashi doesn't even realise that tears are falling down his face. he thinks the sound of the shower is loud enough to conceal the sounds of him sobbing, but when he hears the bathroom door open, he knows that's not true, and he knows that he can't hide from you any longer.
his vision is obscured, covered by a film of watery saltiness that makes the world around him seem blurry. he can make out a shape that vaguely resembles you through the tears. he blinks once through his tears, blinks twice, and feelings of safety wash over him as you come into clarity.
cooking for him would have to wait. you don't care about the fact that you're getting your clothes wet when you reach out to him, arms outstretched. his soaking body clings onto you, with strong arms securing you with a brace that so tight, that it echoes his deepest fear: that you will leave him alone again.
"i'm here, kakashi," you whisper in his ear. "it's alright. i'm here."
you don't care how many times you have to repeat this consolation. it would be true each and every time.
the dried blood from the latest mission rinses off his skin, and pours into the drain. when you're around, the blood actually goes away. he feels absolved of his guilt when you're scrubbing it away with a soapy washcloth. his brain cannot bother him with the final screams of whoever he was tasked to kill, so long as your sweet voice continues to hum the tune that he's begun to memorise on each of his visits.
kakashi hated the smell of drawn blood. it was sharp, metallic, and invaded his nose until he could smell nothing else. he's come to relish in your scent, though. right now, it was your shampoo. it smells like sweetness, like comfort, like home—like everything he dreams of when he's out on a mission. a low, rumbling purr vibrates in his chest as your fingers scratch along his scalp. he could stay like this forever.
but when the warm water stops, and when he feels your hands leave his hair, he lets out something of a groan. a dissatisfied one. your lips pressing against the nape of his neck serve to soothe him.
“sorry, kakashi," you speak between soft kisses. "let's get up and get dressed, yeah?”
he doesn't speak, but you know he's listening because he allows you to pat him dry with a towel. his eyes had drifted shut in the shower, but he still doesn't open them, despite the fact that the shower is over. he didn’t need to see. not when you were there to watch his back.
"heads up." you warn.
for the first time in a while, kakashi feels himself smiling, even if it's just a small one. you're patting his face dry with the towel like he's delicate. maybe it's the sheer absurdity of it all. if anything, he should be handling you with such care. he doesn't think he deserves it, but he still lets you massage lotion into his skin like it matters—like he matters. when you're done talking him through every product in your cabinet, you both leave the steamy bathroom and return to your bedroom. you hand him a clean pair of clothes, just for the night, and he wears them, savouring the smell of freshly washed fabric against his smoothened skin.
your bed is soft.
the mattress mirrors your generosity with its size, with it being large enough to accomodate both of your laying bodies. it felt like a luxury to kakashi, but not compared to the warmth of your body. that was the richest luxury of them all.
his arms are wrapped around your waist, with his face pressed against your chest. the gentle heat of your skin sinks into his weary flesh, and it makes him forget about the light ache in his muscles. he counts the lengths of your breaths, and the metronome of your heartbeat in his ear lulls him into a state of near-peace.
it would've been complete peace if it weren't for the way this world functioned. kakashi starts to wonder about what life could've been like if the world was different. he starts to think about what life could've been if he weren't in the anbu; if he weren't a shinobi; if he wasn't born into a system that required violence. he could have this kind of peace every single day, and maybe, he could indulge in you without shame.
maybe, he could bring himself to tell you that he loves you. he could really get attached.
in this darkness, kakashi opens his eyes and shifts his irises to look at you. your sleeping face looks like it's found the peace he thinks about. he moves his eyes to look at your chest as it rises and falls.
there's blood beneath that precious skin of yours. warm, running blood. images of kannabi bridge and cold bodies flash through his memory like lightning, and kakashi, drunk on your warmth, holds your body even tighter to stave off the chills that run through his spine. he tosses, and buries his face in your chest like the past has come to chase him. the images linger for an awful moment, taunting him almost, before your hand runs itself through his hair. the visions then fade into a thick mist, leaving not a single trace behind.
"kakashi…" you speak softly.
he stops moving when you talk, and he holds his breath for a moment. he listens to your heartbeat. the sound of your blood pumping, giving you life. you're here. he's here. and finally, he releases the pent-up breath that relieves him on its exhale.
"i love you…" the words come out in a sleepy haze.
kakashi leans in to the softness of your breasts, right where your heart beats. rather than tearing your heart open, he presses a kiss there instead.
he loves you too.
a/n: wow this is probably the first SFW work I've dropped on this blog... (😳) this thought has been itching my head for the past idk how many months. ugh kakashi ily
i seriously need to make this google form to see what characters you guys wanna be tagged for, but in the meantime if you wanna be tagged for kakashi works #LMK! i hope u guys like this!
