Maybe a GaaraXSakura with “You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen" ?
A heavy thump resounds outside Sakura’s door.
She pauses, caught in the middle of making matcha, before sighing and stowing the tea kettle on the stovetop. She should be used to this by now but, then again, it’s just cresting four in the morning and she hasn’t had her caffeine yet. And witchcraft is difficult with an unfocused, sleepy mind. Sakura cinches her robe tight around her waist as she moves to the backdoor, making a lazy gesture to disable the wards.
She pulls open the door, frowning down at her doorstep. It was obscured in a tangle of multiple limbs, far more than those of a human or even an arachnid. Deep gold ichor pooled beneath the scaled brown body. Her eyes go wide.
How the hell did he kill a beholder?
She snaps her fingers, freezing the body’s decaying process. With a little bit of focus and the slightest bit of strain, Sakura teleports the body to her workshop.
She then moves back into her house, leaving the door wide open as she pours the hot water over the matcha. As she adds a dollop of honey, Sakura feels a presence shift behind her.
“Tea?” she asks, not even looking up.
The scent of copper fills her nostrils as Gaara steps into her peripherals. Sakura turns slightly, seeing the gold ichor splattered across his knuckles and dripping down from his mouth. Sakura presses a hot cup into Gaara’s hands.
“As much as I appreciate it,” Sakura begins, “You need to stop leaving dead bodies on my doorstep.”
Gaara’s eyes narrow and Sakura reads the feral, deadly intent there. It doesn’t scare her in the slightest.
“Put them in the workshop instead,” she says, popping a kiss against his cheek.
She turns back to preparing her own cup with a hidden grin as Gaara’s cheeks flush deeply. Sakura raises her cup to her lips, grinning darkly as the ichor mixes with the matcha as she drinks it down, down, down.
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