my hobbies? 1 - being a filthy, nasty, degenerate whore, and 2 - writing. usually, i do both at the same time.
i am very much a ship-and-let-ship girlie. read: the definition of the word “fiction”. freaks are welcome here! minors, however, are not. this blog is strictly 18+.
now, come sit beside me in the gutter. it’s cozy down here. ♡
(art is of my oc because i’m a psycho who has dedicated a worrying number of words and years of my life to my longfic(s) on ao3! tumblr is where i post chapter extras, x reader work, and other assorted degeneracy. teehee)
⟡˙⋆ find me on AO3!
━⊱ jinnxd
☆ Naruto Character Playlists
ᯓ𑣲 𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒎𝒂 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒖𝒊
♡ Squirting
♡ Threesome (Genma x Reader x Hayate)
♡ Cowgirl
☆ Fun Facts About Uchiha Kiya
☆ Arrogance Playlist
You've caught the attention of Genma Shiranui. Lucky girl, right? By next weekend, you’ll know better.
🍃 cw: explicit sexual content, Fem!Reader, reckless driving, soft dom Genma, slight degradation, praise kink, panty kink, nipple play, semi-public sex, unprotected PIV sex, creampie, manipulation!! You get played like a fiddle, but DAMN that man can perform.
🍃 wc: 4.7k
🍃 soundtrack: Cowboy Casanova (spotify)
Thank you to @genmaweek2026 for hosting this event (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
⟡ ˙ ⋆ 𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑫𝑨𝒀, 𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑴𝑨!
The bar was loud enough to rattle the neon signs in the windows.
Boots hammered the scuffed floorboards to the sound of Trace Adkins, and somewhere behind you, a woman hollered that somebody named Johnny could kiss her ass. The air smelled like beer and cigarette smoke, with the faintest tinge of musty basement.
None of it was enough to distract you from the stranger at the pool table.
He was tall. Lean, but not skinny, his faded black T-shirt stretching across his shoulders whenever he bent to take a shot. His blue jeans sat low on his hips, worn pale at the thighs, with a silver buckle flashing beneath the hanging lights.
The old Budweiser sign on the wall washed his face in red neon, highlighting the line of his nose and catching in eyes so dark you could hardly make out the pupils from your distance. You bit your lip, letting your gaze wander shamelessly over him. From the straw cowboy hat perched atop his long brown hair to the square-toed boots peeking out beneath his jeans, he was dreamy. A cool drink of water in the dead heat of July.
Across the room, the stranger tipped back his beer, and his eyes found yours over the bottle.
“Ladies love country boys,” Trace crooned through the speakers at that exact moment.
They most certainly do. You raised one hand and waggled your fingers in a coy little wave. To your delight, one corner of his mouth curled into a smile around the ridiculous piece of hay caught between his lips. Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned over the table and drove the eight ball straight into the corner pocket. Two striped balls still sat untouched beneath the hanging light.
His opponent stared at him. “What the hell, man?”
The stranger only reached into his pocket, slapped a twenty onto the felt, and collected his beer from the rail. Then, he headed straight for you. Up close, he was even prettier. His eyes were dark brown, you realized—like Tennessee whiskey. He lifted his beer in greeting.
“Evenin’.” His voice was low and lazy, dragged through a honeyed Southern drawl.
You smiled. “You always throw games for strangers?”
“For a girl as pretty as you?” he answered, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Figured you were liable to get swept away if I didn’t make my move.”
Giggling, you eyed him with absolutely zero attempt at subtlety. “What’s your name, cowboy?”
Genma, you discovered. You gave him yours in turn, biting your lip as he repeated it slowly, like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. Then he leaned one elbow against the bar beside you, close enough that his arm brushed yours. “You from around here?”
“What’s it to ya?” you teased, turning toward the packed bar and trying to catch the bartender’s attention.
“Trying to figure out how I’ve managed not to see you before.” The line was shamelessly smooth. Even smoother was the way Genma lifted two fingers and caught the bartender’s eye immediately. He looked back at you with a crooked grin. “What’s your drink, darlin’?”
You looked back into those whiskey-colored eyes. “Jack and Coke, please.”
Genma’s grin widened, like your answer had confirmed something for him. “Knew I liked you.” The bartender set your drink down alongside another yellow bottle of Coors Banquet. Before you could reach for your purse, he tapped two fingers against the bar. “Put ’em on mine, ma’am.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
He passed you the glass himself, his fingers brushing yours around the condensation. You took a sip, still looking into those whiskey-colored eyes. Twisting the cap from his beer, he said, “So, you gonna tell me what brings you around here, or am I supposed to keep guessing?”
You leaned one hip against the bar. “Summer internship.”
That seemed to genuinely surprise him. “Here?”
You glanced around at the warped floorboards, blinking beer signs, and the poorly taxidermied buck mounted all crooked above the jukebox. “Mhm. That’s right.”
Genma leaned against the bar too, his shoulder brushing yours. “What kind of internship brings a girl like you to a town with one stoplight and three Dollar Generals?”
“Veterinary medicine,” you answered, laughing. “I want to specialize in large-animal medicine. Y’all’s livestock clinic is pretty acclaimed, y’know.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Well, hell.” He looked you over again, but this time there was something impressed beneath the shameless interest. Tipping his beer back, he took a long swig. “You’re gonna be a doctor.”
“Eventually.”
“So you came all this way to stick your arm inside a cow?” Genma bit down on the piece of hay between his teeth to smother a laugh at the way your jaw dropped.
“I’m leaving,” you bluffed, scoffing playfully as you pushed off of the bar.
“No, y'ain’t.” When you pretended to turn away, he caught you lightly by the wrist. His thumb settled directly over your pulse. Your body betrayed you at once. You knew Genma felt the flutter of your heart beneath his fingertip by the slow curve of his mouth, but he was merciful enough not to mention it. Instead, he said, “My family raises cattle.”
“Do they?”
His eyes gleamed. “Guess you’ll have to come see for yourself.”
You laughed again, and Genma looked unbearably pleased with himself. After that, conversation came easy. He had grown up five miles outside town, on land his grandfather bought before the highway cut through the county. He worked the family farm when he felt like it, picked up jobs hauling cattle when he did not, and apparently spent the rest of his time hustling unsuspecting men at pool.
Except, of course, when he threw games to talk to pretty girls.
A new song blared through the speakers, sending another wave of boots toward the dance floor. Genma glanced over at the growing crowd, then set his beer on the bar and held out his hand. “You wanna dance?”
As though you were going to turn down the opportunity to have those hands on you. “I’d love to.”
Genma’s fingers closed around yours. “Attagirl.”
He wove you through the crowded tables, and the moment you reached the floor, one of his big hands settled warmly at your waist.
Lord have mercy.
He was a good dancer, too—because apparently being tall, handsome, and smooth enough to make you forget your own name had not been sufficient. Genma guided you through the song without ever seeming to think about it, spinning you beneath his arm and catching you neatly against him when you came back around. Your chest bumped his. His hand tightened at your waist.
You laughed, breathless and embarrassingly delighted.
“There you go,” he murmured, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
You hardly noticed when one song became another. Genma kept you moving, turning you between the other couples with lazy confidence. Each time he spun you out, he reeled you back in a little closer, until you were beginning to suspect the dancing was merely an elaborate excuse to keep pulling your body against his.
Not that you planned to complain.
The music slowed, and the crowd softened with it. Couples drew together beneath the dim lights, holding one another close. Genma slid his hand to the small of your back and pulled you gently against him. You went without hesitation. Frankly, he could have pulled you just about anywhere by then.
Your hand rested on his shoulder while the two of you swayed, his thumb tracing a slow, absent arc against your back. Up close, you could smell the clean, sun-warmed scent clinging to his shirt.
You wondered what his neck tasted like.
Your gaze drifted upward, following the strong line of his jaw to the straw cowboy hat shadowing those whiskey-colored eyes. “Can I wear your hat?”
Genma looked down at you. His amusement unfolded slowly, one corner of his mouth lifting before the other. “You know what that means, right, darlin’?”
You knew exactly what it meant. A giggle slipped out of you anyway. “Maybe.”
Before he could say another word, you reached up, plucked the hat from his head, and settled it onto yours. The brim dipped over your eyes. Genma pushed it back with one finger, taking his sweet time looking you over. The heat in his gaze made your stomach flip. “Well,” he murmured, his hand tightening at your waist. “Guess that settles that.”
The next moment, his hand slid up your back, his fingers caught lightly at the nape of your neck, and his mouth was on yours like he had been waiting all night for permission.
You melted. Grabbing the front of his shirt, you kissed him back with all the enthusiasm of a woman who had spent the past half hour wondering what his mouth tasted like. Beer, mostly, with a hint of sweet, earthy tobacco underneath it. His lips curved against yours when you pressed closer, and that little flash of smugness made you want to climb him.
The song kept playing. Couples kept swaying around you. Somewhere nearby, somebody whooped. You barely heard any of it.
Genma’s hand slipped lower, spanning your waist as he kissed you deeper. Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging just enough to earn a quiet groan against your mouth.
Sweet baby Jesus.
That sound alone could have talked you into a felony.
By the time he finally pulled back, you were breathless, flushed, and clutching his shirt like the room might tilt without warning. His thumb brushed over your swollen lower lip. “Watcha say, sweetheart?”
Your brain was still several miles behind. “To what?”
Genma smiled. “Gettin’ outta here. I know a spot.”
Your stomach fluttered. You looked up at him under the brim of his hat, not bothering to disguise how badly you wanted to say yes. “I’d love to.”
His grin widened. “Thought you might.”
You giggled, because apparently that was just who you were now. A giggling little fool in a cowboy hat, ready to follow a man you had known for less than an hour into the July night. “I need to use the bathroom first.”
“Don’t take too long,” he warned playfully, pointing you in the direction of the women’s room.
The bathroom was quieter than the bar, though not by much. Music thudded distantly through the walls. One lightbulb flickered overhead, bathing everything in a horrendously unflattering fluorescent ambiance. Someone was crying in the stall beside yours, but you had a hot cowboy waiting outside, so you handled your business and minded your own until girl code finally won.
“You okay? What’s wrong, girl?” you called, touching up your lipgloss in the mirror.
The sniffles stopped. Slowly, the stall door creaked open, and one mascara-streaked eye peered out. The moment it landed on you, it narrowed into a slit. “Oh. You,” she sneered, looking you up and down. “Genma’s new girl for the night. Enjoy it while it lasts, hun.”
Your sympathy evaporated. “Excuse me?”
She shoved the door open, folded her arms, and scoffed. “I’m just saying—don’t get attached. He’ll forget your name by morning.”
Ah. So that was it. She was jealous. You gave yourself a couple spritzes of perfume, deciding to not pay her any mind. Obviously, you were different. Genma looked at you like he was already halfway in love. “Thanks for the warning.”
Genma was waiting just outside the bathroom, leaning against the wall. His eyes found you immediately. “There she is.”
Any lingering irritation from the bathroom dissolved on contact.
He held out his hand, and you slipped yours into it without hesitation. Genma laced your fingers together and led you through the bar, pausing only long enough to settle his tab before pushing open the door.
Warm July air rolled over you. The parking lot was crowded with lifted trucks, mud-spattered Jeeps, and one slammed 350Z with a ‘LOCALLY HATED’ chrome sticker spanning the top of the windshield. Genma guided you past all of them, his thumb brushing idly over your knuckles. Then, you saw where he was taking you.
“Oh my God.”
A forest-green ’79 Silverado sat beneath the parking-lot lights, chrome trim gleaming along the body. The paint was deep enough to look black in the shadows, only flashing green when the light caught it. It was gorgeous.
Genma glanced at you, pleased. “You like her?”
“She’s as beautiful as her owner,” you said slyly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. Apparently, the universe had decided the cowboy himself was not enough. You were beginning to wonder if there was anything about him that wasn’t perfect.
He laughed, opening the passenger door for you with a little flourish. “Your chariot, Doc.”
The cab answered your question. A plastic water bottle half-full of dark brown dip spit sat in the cupholder. A pair of red lace panties hung from the rearview mirror. The wide bench seat was cracked in places, softened with age, and smelled faintly of leather and tobacco.
You stared at the panties. Genma followed your gaze and shrugged. “Decoration.”
The girl from the bathroom’s warning rang through your head. You should ask whose they were. But then, you looked into those pretty, pretty eyes of his, and decided that whatever girl had left those panties behind was old news. Tonight, he was looking at you.
So, you climbed inside.
He shut the door after you, crossing back over to the driver side and climbing in. The Silverado growled awake, but before Genma shifted into drive, he looked over at you with a heated gaze. Reaching across the bench seat, he hooked one hand behind your neck, and leaned in.
You kissed him back instantly, twisting toward him. His other hand settled high on your thigh, thumb pressing into the bare skin beneath the hem of your shorts, and any remaining thoughts about jealous bathroom girls or suspicious red lace promptly scattered. When he pulled away, his lips brushed yours once more, softer this time.
“Had to make sure you weren’t changing your mind,” he murmured.
You were already sliding closer across the bench seat. “Not a chance.”
The Silverado rumbled down the empty county road, windows cracked against the muggy July heat. George Strait crackled through the old cassette deck, nearly swallowed by the engine and the rush of warm air. You had the whole bench seat to yourself, yet somehow ended up pressed against Genma’s side before he had driven half a mile.
Funny how that happened.
His right arm stretched along the back of the seat behind you while his left hand rested easily on the wheel. You tucked yourself beneath his shoulder, humming along to You Look So Good in Love as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw.
Genma exhaled through his nose. “You always this friendly?”
“Only with the pretty ones.”
His laugh vibrated beneath your mouth as you repeated his own words. You smiled against his skin and kissed him again, lingering over the spot just beneath his ear until he groaned, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Careful, darlin’.”
You had no intention of being careful. Your hand slid over to the tent in his jeans as you peppered slow kisses along his throat. The truck drifted toward the center line, and Genma corrected it with a quiet curse, catching your wandering hand and pressing it firmly against his thigh.
“Keep that there,” he warned, though the grin pulling at his mouth ruined the effect.
You looked up at him innocently. “Distracted?”
Genma’s whiskey eyes flicked from the road to your lips. “About to be.”
His hand settled high on your bare thigh, warm and possessive as the Silverado turned off the pavement and onto a narrow dirt road. The panties hanging from the mirror swayed with every bump, while the bottle of dip spit rattled in the cupholder beside you.
By the time Genma pulled the Silverado onto the overlook, both of you were breathing a little hard. The truck rolled to a stop beneath a wide black sky, the town glittering far below like somebody had spilled a handful of gold dust across the valley. Genma glanced out the back window toward the bed.
“Was gonna lay out back with you,” he said, already sliding out from behind the wheel, shifting closer to you. “Maybe later.”
Your laugh barely made it past your lips before he kissed you. The bench seat groaned beneath your combined weight as Genma caught you by the hips and hauled you closer. You threaded both hands into his hair and kissed him harder, all the heat from the bar, the dance floor, and the drive finally catching fire at once. Genma’s hands slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, palms rough and hot against your skin as he dragged you flush to his chest.
The overlook could wait. The stars could wait. You had spent the whole night wondering what those hands would feel like on you, and now that you’d gotten a taste, there was nothing else on your mind. Genma tipped his head back when your mouth found his neck, one hand gripping your thigh while the other braced against the seat.
His hand slid behind your back as he tried to ease you down across the bench seat.
You stopped him with one palm against his chest. Genma pulled back, brows lifting. Then, you pushed. He went willingly, settling against the cracked vinyl with a slow, curious smile as you climbed over him and straddled his lap.
“Well, now,” he murmured.
Grinning, you tipped the hat on your head toward him—his hat. “Wear the hat, ride the cowboy. That’s the rule, remember?”
Genma stared up at you, his hands settling heavily on your hips. “Darlin’,” he said, voice roughening, “I surely do.”
You rolled your hips against him again, slow and deliberate, grinding down on the hard ridge of his cock through his jeans. Genma’s hands flexed hard on your hips, fingers digging in like he was already fighting not to lose control.
“Fuck.” That honeyed drawl had gone low and ragged. “You keep doin’ that and I ain’t gonna last long enough to get you naked.”
“Good,” you whispered, leaning down to bite his bottom lip. “I don’t want slow.”
His whiskey eyes darkened. One big hand slid up your back and fisted in your hair, dragging you into a filthy kiss. You moaned into his mouth, already wet and aching beneath your shorts. You sat up long enough to grab the hem of his black T-shirt. Genma lifted his arms, letting you peel it over his head, and your eyes drank him in greedily. Broad shoulders, tight abs, and a sexy V dipping beneath his belt buckle. You dragged your nails down his chest and watched his muscles jump beneath your touch.
Genma’s grin turned wicked. “My turn.”
He didn’t waste time. His hands yanked your shirt off. Your bra followed seconds later, unclasped with an ease that should have made you suspicious. Instead, you were too busy gasping when his hands closed around your tits. Genma groaned like a man starved, thumbs brushing your hard nipples before he leaned down and sucked one into his mouth, tongue flicking, teeth grazing lightly.
“These pretty tits,” he muttered against your skin, switching to the other one. “Been thinkin’ about ‘em since I saw you.”
While his mouth stayed busy, his hands dropped lower. He popped the button on your shorts, yanked the zipper down, and shoved them down your thighs along with your panties. You lifted up just enough for him to drag them all the way off your legs.
But he didn’t drop them.
He brought the soaked fabric to his face, eyes locked on yours as he inhaled deeply. Your jaw fell open. “Goddamn, baby.” His voice came muffled through the lace, cock twitching beneath you. “You smell so fuckin’ good.”
He took another slow, obscene huff before stuffing your panties in his back pocket like a trophy. “These are mine now.”
You whimpered, equal parts shocked and wildly turned on. “You’re disgusting.”
“Yeah,” he agreed easily, smirking as he unfastened his belt, shoving his jeans and boxers down just far enough for his cock to spring free against his stomach. It made a thwack as it slapped against his abs. You whimpered at the sight, pussy fluttering in anticipation. It was heavy, thick and big, the tip already flushed and leaking. He gave it one lazy stroke, spreading the precum. “Now get back up here and ride this dick, cowgirl.”
You didn’t need telling twice.
You climbed over him again, knees braced on either side of his hips. He dragged his fat head through your slick folds, teasing your clit until you were shaking. Genma’s hands gripped your ass hard, spreading you open.
“C’mon, darlin’,” he murmured. “Sit on it.”
You sank down slowly. The stretch stole the air from your lungs, inch after thick inch pressing inside until your ass met his thighs and he was buried to the hilt.
“Fuuuuck.” Genma’s head dropped back against the seat.
“Genma,” you mewled. “It’s so big.”
“I know, baby,” he groaned, voice low and rough. His hands squeezed your ass tighter, holding you down on his cock so you could feel every thick inch stretching you open. “But look at you… already takin’ every inch like you were made for me.”
He sat up and wrapped one arm around your back, pulling you flush against his chest as he guided your hips into slow, deep rolls.
“That’s it. Nice and easy.” His lips brushed your ear. “Such a pretty little thing, sittin’ so sweet on my cock.” You clenched around him, and he cursed softly. “Now be a good slut for me and start bouncin’, yeah?”
You braced your hands on his shoulders and began to move, lifting until only the head remained inside before sinking back down.
His hand caught your chin. “Look at me.”
You did. His eyes were dark and hungry, fixed on yours while you rode him faster.
“Attagirl. Ride this dick, baby,” he snarled, Southern drawl thicker than you’d heard it all night. “C’mon. Fuck me like you own it.”
You whimpered, unable to look away. Bracing your hands on his chest, you bore down harder, riding him faster, his cock splitting you open with every stroke. Your tits bounced between you. He leaned in and latched onto one nipple, sucking hard, tongue swirling and teeth grazing as you kept bouncing. You cried out, clenching around him so tight he cursed against your skin.
The truck was rocking wildly now, suspension creaking and groaning.
Every time you slammed down, your clit dragged perfectly against his pelvis, sending sparks shooting up your spine. You were barely hanging on—thighs burning, pussy fluttering and dripping down his balls, completely drunk on the stretch and the filthy eye contact.
Genma looked completely fucking gone for you. His whiskey eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and so, so heated. “Does it feel good, darlin’?” he asked, voice wrecked.
You whimpered desperately, nodding as much as you could. “Yes,” you gasped. “So good—oh my god—feels so good… so deep—”
“That’s right. Let me hear you.” His thumb stroked your jaw with maddening gentleness. “You gonna cum for me, baby? I can feel how close you are.”
You were moaning and mewling like a whore. The pressure in your belly coiled tighter and tighter, your clit grinding relentlessly against him with every frantic bounce. You were shaking, voice cracking as you cried out.
“Y–yes… Genma—Genmaaaa—fuck, I’m—I’m gonna—”
You came before you could even finish your babbled warning, pussy clamping down around his cock like a vice. You cried out his name, loud and broken, gushing down his shaft while your whole body shook. Your walls pulsed and fluttered wildly, milking him as the pleasure tore through you.
Genma threw his head back and groaned, his thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuuuuck, that’s it. Good girl… good fucking girl.”
His fingers gripped your hips hard enough to bruise as he went completely buck wild. He lifted you up and yanked you back down onto his cock, using you exactly how he wanted, like you were a sex doll made just for him. The wet slap of skin drowned out the music entirely as he fucked you through your orgasm.
Sweat gleamed across his chest. His breathing turned ragged, each thrust rougher than the last as he chased his release. You could barely speak, just moaning and whimpering his name like a prayer while he used you.
Genma looked up at you, something desperate flashing in his eyes. “Darlin’—fuck—you on birth control?”
You could barely think, let alone speak. All you managed was a broken little whimper as you kept riding him. “N-no…”
“Shit,” Genma groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a second as his cock throbbed hard inside you. He looked back up at you, breathing ragged. “How do you feel about Plan B? There’s a store n–nearby—”
“Shut the fuck up,” you moaned, voice breaking. “Just cum in me. P–please—just fucking cum in me, Genma.”
His eyes widened, a disbelieving noise ripping out of his throat. With a deep, guttural groan, Genma buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy as he held you down on his cock, grinding up into you while he emptied himself completely. He kept thrusting through it, messy and sloppy, pushing his cum deeper with every twitch of his hips.
“Fuuuuck… that’s it. Take it all. Good fuckin’ girl,” he panted, voice hoarse, still staring into your eyes as the last heavy spurts pumped into you. He stayed buried inside you long after the last shudder passed, chest heaving beneath yours. A lazy, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he felt his cum starting to leak out around his cock.
“Goddamn…” he murmured proudly. “Guess you really are mine tonight, darlin’.”
…
For the next week, Genma texted you every day. A good-morning message here, a picture there, even questions about how your internship was going. You told yourself the girl in the bathroom had been wrong.
Then his replies slowed.
Hours became a day. A day became two. Finally, one of your messages sat beneath a tiny, humiliating read receipt with no answer at all. By the time the weekend came around again, you had manufactured enough excuses for him to fill the entire county. He was busy. His phone had died, or… or it’d been stolen. He’d hustled the wrong person at pool and gotten into some trouble.
You dressed up anyway, and hoped for the best.
The bar looked exactly as it had the week before, but this time Genma was not at the pool table. He was on the dance floor.
With another girl wearing that same straw hat.
His hands sat on her waist. Her fingers were tangled in his hair. He bent his head and kissed her with the same hungry focus that had convinced you nobody else in the room existed. Your stupid, hopeful heart cracked clean down the middle.
You made it to the bathroom before the tears came. Locked inside a stall, you cried until your mascara ran and your chest hurt, replaying every warning you had ignored. God, you were so fucking stupid.
The bathroom door opened sometime later, and boots clicked toward the sinks. A compact snapped open. Then a soft voice called, “Everything okay, honey?”
Déjà vu crawled across your skin.
You wiped beneath your eyes and pushed the stall door open just enough to peek out. A pretty girl stood before the mirror, touching up her lipstick. Genma’s hat sat on her head. The moment she saw you, concern flickered across her face.
“Don’t leave with him,” you warned, voice hoarse. “Trust me. He’s only interested in one thing.”
The girl stared at you, her mouth twisting into a frown.
“Sure,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Jealous, much?” She gave herself one last glance in the mirror, smiling beneath the brim of his hat. “Sorry, sweetie, but he really likes me.”
Day 1: Squirting
Day 3: Threesome
⋆˙⟡ aaaand that concludes Genma Week 2026! thanks for reading, y'all (>ᴗ•) !
🍃 soundtrack: Ain't No Fun (If the Homies Can't Have None)
Thank you to @genmaweek2026 for hosting this event (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓:
The ANBU barracks were almost always empty.
They saw maybe four shinobi a month. Only the poor, desperate bastards too wrung out from a mission to drag themselves home used them. Most pushed through on stubbornness alone, minds fixed on their own beds, their own blankets, anything but the thin, crusty cots waiting in the barracks.
Tonight, however, the barracks had already reached half their usual monthly occupancy.
Unfortunately, it was the exact two degenerate bastards responsible for leaving the cots crusty in the first place.
You were bent over on one, bare tits pressed against the thin blanket, ass in the air as Genma pounded into you from behind. One of his hands gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, the other tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could growl filthy praise against your ear.
“Fuck, baby. Taking me like this in the barracks… dirty girl.” He punctuated it with a sharp smack to your ass, watching it bounce with open appreciation. “Damn!”
Your moan ricocheted off the concrete walls when he slammed back into you, his thick cock stretching you open with every deep thrust. The wet slap of his hips against your ass filled the room, its sparse furnishings doing absolutely nothing to dampen the echoes.
Genma’s senbon remained clenched between his teeth, glinting beneath the low light as he grinned. “Yeahhh,” he drawled. “Just like that.”
You were right on the edge, pussy fluttering around him, when the barracks door swung open.
Hayate Gekkō stepped inside, already mid-cough.
He froze instantly, dark eyes wide as he took in the scene: you, glancing over your shoulder in pure panic, hurriedly pushing your upper body onto your forearms, tits jiggling. Genma, on the other hand, had zero reaction other than slowing his thrusts to a lazy, deep grind, keeping you pinned in place with a hand on the small of your back.
“Oh, Hayate. ‘Sup, man?”
You gawked at him over your shoulder, brows twitching. Your pussy was busted wide open for Hayate to see. Hell, even your asshole was winking at him, and Genma’s reaction was… ‘Sup?! There was zero point in covering yourself now. Hayate had already seen all there was to see.
Thankfully, he was somehow even more mortified than you were. His pallid face flooded scarlet, his gaze snapping toward an old bloodstain on the floor with such determination that it suddenly appeared to be the most fascinating thing he had ever encountered.
“I—shit, I’m sorry,” he stammered between wheezing breaths. “I thought no one was in here. Never mind. I’ll leave. Right now. I didn’t—I didn’t see anything.”
He turned and fumbled for the door. Genma’s low chuckle stopped him. “C’mon, Hayate. Don’t be a fucking prude.”
You squawked indignantly. “Genma, what the fu—”
Genma leaned over you, lips grazing the shell of your ear. He had stopped thrusting, though his cock remained buried inside you, keeping you full while he murmured, “Poor guy’s a virgin, y’know. Gets no play whatsoever.”
Hayate made a strangled noise near the door.
“Besides,” Genma continued, sounding entirely too entertained, “you look so pretty like this. What’s the harm in at least letting him watch?”
Your mouth fell open.
Hayate’s mortification somehow deepened. “I couldn’t possibly… I’m sorry, I’ll just—” He reached for the door again, doing his best not to look at you.
You glanced back at him, biting your lip. Despite everything, he was still trying to be respectful. Sweet, even, with his flushed face and hunched shoulders, coughing through his desperate attempt to retreat before he embarrassed the both of you any further.
It was true that Hayate never got much attention. You had witnessed it plenty of times. Most women hardly noticed him when Genma was nearby, monopolizing every pair of eyes in the room. Even when someone did show interest, Hayate could barely make it through three words without nerves sending him into a coughing fit.
You, however, had always found him cute.
…In a sickly, haunted sort of way.
Not feeble, certainly. Hayate was still a tokubetsu jonin and an ANBU operative. Whatever his illness was, he remained formidable enough to survive work that killed healthier men. And suddenly, curiosity began to prickle beneath your embarrassment. A man who looked so fragile but fought so viciously… what would he be like in bed? Had he truly never fucked anyone before?
A fresh coughing fit seized him as he tugged at the door, and an even more alarming thought struck you.
What if he died a virgin?
“Wait.” The words slipped out before you could reconsider them. Hayate went still, slowly lifting his wide, dark-circled gaze to yours. For once in his life, Genma stayed silent, curiosity bright in his eyes. Swallowing, you sank deliberately back into your arch, moaning as you felt Genma shift inside you. “Stay,” you breathed. “Don’t you wanna watch?”
Hayate stared. His shoulders remained tense, his face burning as his gaze betrayed him, shifting to the place where Genma’s cock disappeared inside you, then dragged slowly upward over your arched body until it reached your parted lips.
The bulge beneath his pants was impossible to miss.
Behind you, Genma’s mouth curled into a smirk. “You heard the lady. Pull up a chair.”
Hayate remained frozen for another long second, chest rising and falling so rapidly that you began to wonder whether inviting him to stay might genuinely kill him.
“This… this is insane,” he whispered. Still, he took one tentative step closer, then another, until he lowered himself into the rickety chair a few feet from the cot. His long fingers dug into his own thighs like he was physically restraining himself.
Genma began moving again.
His hips rolled against yours, dragging his cock slowly along your walls. The first thrust drew a helpless sound from your throat. The second made your fingers curl into the blanket.
At first, Hayate’s gaze stayed stubbornly fixed on your face. Then it slipped lower, following the movement of your body beneath Genma’s hands. His eyes lingered on the flex of your thighs, the bounce of your breasts, the place where Genma vanished into you with every measured stroke.
You could feel him watching.
Each time Genma drove forward, you found yourself wondering what Hayate could see from the chair. How much of you was hidden by the angle. Whether he was imagining himself in Genma’s place.
Genma noticed too.
“Look at him, baby,” he murmured, slowing until every inch of his cock dragged visibly in and out of you. “Trying so hard to be polite.”
Hayate’s fingers tightened against his thighs.
Genma grinned around his senbon. “He’s never seen a real pussy before. Bet he’s dying to know how you feel.”
You’d never seen a face so red before. Somehow, Hayate’s flush only deepened as Genma picked up his pace, drawing each thrust out until only the tip remained inside you before driving back in hard.
Genma was putting on a fucking show. You couldn’t blame him—you wanted to perform, too.
Biting your lip, you pushed back to meet Genma’s next thrust, letting your moan spill freely into the room. “Then let him see better.”
Something flashed in Genma’s eyes. He chuckled, low and dark. With a wet sound, he pulled out, and you whined at the sudden emptiness. He caught you around the waist, flipped you onto your back, and spread your legs wide, pressing your knees toward your chest until your dripping cunt was fully exposed.
Hayate inhaled sharply.
“Come closer,” Genma told him, voice laced with amusement. “She doesn’t bite.” His grin widened around the senbon. “Unless you ask nicely.”
Hayate’s gaze darted helplessly between your face and your spread thighs. Slowly, he scooted closer, stopping close enough that you could see sweat glistening along his pale brow. His cock strained painfully against his pants, a darkened spot forming over the tip.
Genma slid back inside you in one smooth thrust, drawing a loud whine from your throat. He set a steady pace, fucking you deep while Hayate watched every inch disappear and reappear, shiny with your slick. You were burning up, lingering embarrassment and arousal twisting together.
Hayate looked at you as though he could scarcely believe he had been permitted to stay, much less allowed to sit inches away and watch as Genma split you open. His wide, dark-circled eyes tracked every movement. Every flex of Genma’s hips. Every tremor that passed through your thighs.
It made you bolder. Your back arched off of the bed, deliberately pushing yourself farther onto Genma’s cock.
“Fuck… she’s so tight,” Genma groaned, mostly for Hayate’s benefit. “Clenches every time I hit that spot right here—” He angled his hips and drove into you hard enough to make you cry out.
Hayate whimpered. One hand drifted toward the bulge in his pants before stopping midway, fingers curling uncertainly. A broken cough escaped him. You reached out and brushed your fingertips over his wrist.
“You can touch yourself,” you coaxed sweetly, breathless beneath Genma’s thrusts.
You watched as he processed your words, pale face burning an even deeper shade of red. For an instant, he looked perilously close to fainting. Then, with shaky hands, he fumbled with his pants, shoving them down just far enough for his cock to spring free against his stomach.
It was… cute.
That was the first word that entered your mind, even though you knew he’d probably die of embarrassment if you said it out loud. It was a respectable size, enough to make your cunt clench in anticipation, but the way it curved upward from its dark nest of hair, the tip all flushed red and weeping… it was endearing, okay?
You felt Genma’s rhythm falter. A single betraying stutter of his hips, followed by the way he throbbed inside of you. Attention snapping toward him, you found Genma staring, chestnut eyes heavy and intent, fixed on the sight of Hayate’s cock twitching in the open air. Interesting.
His cock throbbed hard inside you.
Very interesting.
Hayate wrapped a tentative hand around himself and gave one shy stroke. His thumb swept over the leaking head, spreading the wetness, and he bit down on a soft whimper.
Genma resumed fucking you. He gripped your thigh and tried valiantly to keep his eyes on your body, but his attention continued slipping sideways. Again and again, his gaze returned to Hayate’s fist, to the upward curve of his cock. You noticed every stolen glance, a slow smile spreading over your face.
“Hayate,” you cooed. “Do you want a turn?”
His hand stopped midway down his shaft, eyes wide as they flew to yours. “N-no!” he stammered immediately, voice cracking. Another cough rattled through him. “You and Genma are… I mean, I couldn’t—I shouldn’t—this is already too much—”
Genma buried himself deep inside you and released a low, delighted chuckle.
“Fuck, baby. Look at you being generous.” He leaned over and kissed you messily, tucking the senbon behind his ear so his tongue could slide against yours. When he pulled away, his grin had returned, wicked and far too pleased. “That’s my girl.”
He looked toward Hayate without withdrawing from you.
“C’mon. I’m not jealous.” The warmth in his voice made your suspicion sharpen. “What kind of friend would I be if I kept a pussy this perfect all to myself?” Hayate’s cock twitched helplessly in his hand. Genma noticed. Of course he did. “She wants you,” he continued, voice dropping into a coaxing murmur. “Look how wet she is just thinking about it.”
Hayate looked at you, visibly torn between shame and desire.
You touched his wrist again. “Do you want me?” you asked softly.
His lips parted. “Yes,” he breathed, nearly inaudible. “S–so bad…”
Smiling, your fingers curled around his wrist. “Come here, then.”
Genma pulled out of you slowly, leaving you clenching around nothing, and slid off of the cot. He stepped behind Hayate.
“Shirt off,” he ordered gently, already tugging the fabric up. Hayate lifted his arms obediently, letting Genma pull the shirt over his head and toss it aside. Genma’s hands immediately found his waist, sliding over pale skin, thumbs stroking along his ribs. Hayate shivered under the touch.
“She’s nice and ready for you,” Genma murmured, guiding him closer. “Want help?”
Hayate released a shaky breath and nodded, looking down at your glistening pussy with a mix of pure awe and anxiety. One of Genma’s hands stayed on Hayate’s hip, steadying him. The other wrapped around Hayate’s cock, giving it one slow stroke that made him jolt, hard.
“G–Genma—?!”
“Relax.” Genma said, almost tenderly, giving him another. “I’ve got you.”
His voice had gone rough around the edges, and suddenly, your suspicion settled into realization. This wasn’t mere generosity—no, Genma wanted him. Badly.
He lined Hayate’s cock up himself, rubbing the flushed head up and down your slick folds before notching it at your entrance. “There. Now push in. She can take it.”
Hayate whimpered, hips jerking forward instinctively. The head of his cock slipped inside you, and both of you moaned. Genma’s hand stayed on his cock for another moment, guiding him deeper, until Hayate was fully sheathed inside you. He threw his head back and groaned, eyes fluttering shut.
“S–she feels…” His voice dissolved into a hoarse moan.
“Good?” You offered. He nodded, whimpering. Grinning, you whispered in his ear, “Then fuck me, Hayate.”
Genma stayed right behind him, hands roaming over Hayate’s back and hips, pressing encouraging little kisses to his shoulder while his best friend started fucking you with slow, experimental strokes.
“Better than all those nights you jerked off imagining someone like her, hm?” Genma teased softly.
Hayate’s rhythm faltered, embarrassed. “Y–yes, so much better—” he broke off with a whine, hips already beginning to stutter.
Genma sucked a breath through his teeth as he watched. His cock stood rigid against his stomach, flushed and slick from fucking you, twitching each time Hayate drove forward. You caught his gaze and grinned.
“Touch him, Genma,” you whispered. “Touch him while he’s inside me.”
His eyes flashed with dark heat. “Yeah? You want that, baby?”
The smugness in your expression answered for you. Yes… but the two of you knew perfectly well which one of you wanted it more.
One of his hands slid down Hayate’s back, over the curve of his ass, while the other dipped between your bodies. Genma gathered your slick straight from where Hayate’s cock was stretching you open, coating his fingers. Hayate let out a whimper at the feeling of Genma’s fingers brushing against his shaft.
Then Genma pressed a slick finger against Hayate’s hole.
“F–fuck—!” Hayate’s hips jerked hard, burying himself deeper inside you as Genma slowly pushed the finger in. Hayate’s whole body trembled, his cock twitching wildly inside your pussy. He looked like he was already about to bust, eyes wide and glassy, mouth open in a silent moan.
“Hold on a little longer,” Genma growled softly against Hayate’s ear, voice rough with arousal. “I want to fuck you first. You can do that for me, right?”
Hayate nodded frantically, but he was clearly struggling, shallow little thrusts turning erratic as Genma worked a second finger into him, stretching him open with your own wetness. He was surprisingly gentle, kissing the back of his neck and murmuring filthy praise. “That’s it. Take my finger while you’re balls-deep in her. You’re doing so good.”
Genma didn’t make him wait long. He pulled his fingers out, lined up his thick cock, and pushed in slowly. The sound Hayate made was pure sin—half-cough, half-sob of overwhelming pleasure as Genma sank into him inch by inch. The pressure forced Hayate even deeper inside you, and all three of you cried out.
Genma’s hands locked around Hayate’s hips, drawing him backward onto his cock before pushing him forward into your dripping pussy. Each thrust passed through Hayate and into you, turning his body into the trembling link between yours.
It was Genma fucking you through him.
The thought alone was so fucking hot you couldn’t stand it.
You reached down immediately, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles as you watched them move together. Genma’s face had gone taut with concentration, chest glistening with sweat. Hayate was already falling apart, every sound punched from him by the force of Genma’s hips.
The room filled with the filthy sounds of wet skin slapping, desperate whimpers, and the scrape of the cot against the floor.
Hayate was falling apart fast.
“G–Genma—ah—I’m—I can’t—it feels too good, I’m gonna—I don’t know where to cum, I—” he babbled, voice cracking between coughs and broken moans. Tears of overwhelming pleasure pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Please—I’m so close—”
“Cum in her,” Genma grunted, voice gruff and commanding as he kept pounding into Hayate’s ass. “Fill her up. She wants it. Don’t you, baby?”
“Mm,” you gasped, rubbing your clit faster. “So bad. Cum in me, Hayate.”
That was all it took. Hayate let out a wrecked sob and buried himself as deep as he could, cock pulsing hard as he came. Thick, hot spurts flooded your pussy, pushing you right over the edge with him. Your back arched from the cot as your walls clenched rhythmically around his cock, milking every drop while pleasure tore through you.
Behind him, Genma swore.
He was panting now, jaw clenched, barely hanging on as he felt Hayate’s ass tighten around him. With a strained growl, he withdrew, catching Hayate around the waist and forcing him to the floor. You were next, manhandled right off of the cot.
“On your knees,” Genma ordered roughly. “Both of you.”
You knelt side by side. Hayate sagged against your shoulder, trembling and dazed, while Genma stood before you with one hand wrapped around his thick, glistening cock. His chestnut eyes moved between your faces. He stroked himself once, then twice, before his head tipped back with a deep groan.
Hot ropes of cum painted you both, streaking across your lips and cheek before splattering Hayate’s flushed face. Some struck the corner of his mouth, and his lips parted instinctively.
Genma shuddered at the sight.
He milked the final drops from his cock, breathing hard, senbon back between his teeth as he looked down at the mess he’d made of his best friend and his girl.
“Fuck… so perfect,” he murmured, voice low and satisfied, thumb brushing a streak of cum from your bottom lip and pushing it into your mouth. You gazed up at him slyly from your knees, licking his thumb clean.
Hayate was still trembling, face flushed and eyes dazed, but he slumped into your side slightly, like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
You turned to him with a soft, affectionate smile. Cupping his flushed cheek, you captured his trembling lips in a slow, deep kiss. He whimpered into your mouth, still overwhelmed, as you licked the thick splatters of Genma’s cum from his cheek and the corner of his lips, savoring the salty bitterness. Hayate melted against you, his breath hitching with every swipe of your tongue.
Genma watched in awed silence. A crooked, affectionate grin slowly spread across his face as he shook his head, senbon glinting between his teeth.
“Shit, you two,” he muttered. “Right from a wet dream, I swear…”
Scooping you up effortlessly in his strong arms, Genma laid you carefully back down on the cot. Hayate stayed on his knees, watching with wide eyes as Genma settled between your spread thighs, running his hands up your legs.
“Got a little distracted tonight, didn’t I?” he murmured, pressing a kiss just above your knee. “Made my pretty girl get herself off while I was busy fucking my best friend. Not very fair, is it?”
You shivered as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your sensitive cunt. Hayate’s cum continued to drip from you, mixing with your own slick and trailing toward the blanket. Genma watched it with dark, hungry eyes.
“Since you’ve been such a good girl…” His hands tightened gently around your thighs. “I’m gonna clean you up properly.”
-
None of you noticed that the barracks door had never fully latched.
It stood ajar by a few inches—just enough for the two figures standing in the hallway to have seen everything.
Kakashi and Tenzo were both frozen in place. Kakashi’s visible eye was wide, his mask slightly askew from just how long his jaw had been slack. Tenzo had gone permanently bright red from his neck to the tips of his ears. But the prominent bulges straining against the front of their pants made it very clear they weren’t exactly complaining about their discovery of the culprits behind the crusty barracks cots.
Tenzo finally managed to speak, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “…You think they’ll let us join for round two?”
Kakashi didn’t answer right away. He just kept staring, throat working as he swallowed hard.
Then, very quietly, he muttered, “I’m not above begging.”
Genma makes you—poor, sweet, inexperienced Reader—squirt for the very first time.
🍃 cw: explicit sexual content, Fem!Reader, soft dom Genma, oral sex, overstimulation, squirting, praise kink, creampie, slight dacryphilia, slight infantilization, you’re just friends though!
🍃 wc: 2.8k
🍃 soundtrack: vaya con dios (spotify)
Thank you to @genmaweek2026 for hosting this event (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
Let's goon! Uh, I mean... Let's go!
You lay back on the soft, plush bed, heart racing as Genma knelt between your legs.
His playful smirk was long gone. Instead, he gazed up at you, eyes dark with desire. His big, calloused hands slid up your thighs, until they reached your lace panties. He traced the delicate edge with one finger, letting out a low appreciative sound. You shivered, goosebumps pebbling your skin.
“Fuck, baby… these are cute,” he murmured, hooking a finger into the waistband. “But they’re in my way.”
He pulled them off slowly, his chestnut eyes only leaving yours once you were exposed to the cool air. Tossing your panties aside, he leaned in closer, breath hot against your skin. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispered, using his thumbs to gently part you. The groan he let out made you whimper.
His tongue dragged a slow, deliberate stripe up your slit. You gasped, hips twitching. Genma, who’d been watching your face, chuckled against you before diving back in. “And you taste amazing,” he muttered, licking and sucking. “Shit, baby, I think I’m in love.”
“G–genma,” you chided breathlessly. Both of you knew you were nothing more than friends. Well… friends who were hooking up currently, but that was beside the point.
He let out a small laugh, his skilled tongue circling your clit. You mewled softly, hips bucking gently against his face. With a smug little, “Ah-ah,” he pushed you back down to the bed by your thighs, holding you in place. “So sensitive,” he teased, his breath fanning against your core. “I love it.”
Blushing deeply, you turned your head to the side. “Don’t tease,” you whined, squirming as his tongue dipped into your entrance. “You know I’ve—ngh—never…” from the corner of your eye, you saw the way his head perked up at that, and you thought better of your words. “...Nevermind.”
He pulled back just enough to grin, eyes wide with delight. Your stomach sank at the familiar sight—usually, that look was followed by some smart-ass, shit-eating comment, at your expense.
“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin,” he crooned, grinning. “I thought you and… damn, what was his name? Koji? Kujo?”
Fuck. You should have never opened your mouth. Humiliated, you mumbled, “Kaiji. And I–I’m not a virgin, okay? I’ve… I’ve had sex… y’know… before.”
For once, he didn’t immediately joke. Instead, his voice softened, almost tender.
“But not good sex, hm, baby?” When you gave a tiny, miserable shake of your head, he pressed a soft kiss directly to your clit, smiling at the needy sound you made. “And that shitty ex of yours never ate you out, did he?”
You shook your head again, embarrassed at how easily he read you.
Genma looked mesmerized, those pretty chestnut eyes damn near shining at the confession. His thumbs swept over your hip bones, rubbing tender little circles in your soft skin.
“Poor thing,” he murmured, staring into your eyes as he licked another slow stripe up your slit. You gazed back, hips stuttering against his hold as he sucked gently. Something that sounded almost like a sob tore from your chest.
It had been months since anyone touched you, and even then it had never felt like this. Kaiji had never made you cum once in the entire year you were together. You’d stayed anyway, hoping things would magically get better.
It never did, of course.
Things only ended between the two of you when you walked into his apartment to catch him in bed with someone else. How he’d managed that, you’d never know. Tears had sprung into your eyes—whether from the bitter memories, or your current frustration, or both, you didn’t know. Genma saw them, perceptive as always.
“Shhh,” he soothed, voice low and warm. His fingers trailed up and down your pussy, toying with the wetness. “Let me take care of you, baby.”
You nodded desperately, biting your lip. He dove back in, tongue fucking into your entrance while two fingers circled your clit. The dual sensation ripped a loud, shameless moan from your throat. You writhed under him, fists twisting in the sheets as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter.
“Genma, p-please…” you begged, voice breaking.
He chuckled against your pussy, the vibration making your thighs shake. “Please what, baby? Use your words.”
“I… I wanna cum so bad,” you whimpered, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Please.”
“Good girl.” Two of his long fingers pushed inside you, curling up against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. Your back arched high off the bed, a broken curse falling from your lips. He smiled against your clit and sucked harder, fingers pumping steadily. You cried out, hips bucking against the single, large hand splayed over your pelvis, holding you in place. Desperate for purchase, your hands buried themselves deep into his long brunette strands, tugging hard.
The groan Genma let out in response was positively sinful, low and deep and long. Goosebumps pebbled your flesh at the sound, pussy fluttering around his fingers.
Emboldened, you pulled him closer, rolling your hips and grinding against his face—chin, lips, nose, all of it. You rode his tongue with shameless desperation, chasing that coiling heat in your belly. You weren’t even sure he could breathe, but he only moaned louder, one big hand kneading your hip like he was loving every second of it.
“Genma—Genma—f–fuck, I’m—”
Your orgasm crashed into you hard. Your whole body seized, thighs clamping around his head as wave after wave ripped through you. Genma never stopped. His tongue and fingers worked you through every shudder, drawing it out until you were limp and trembling, tears slipping down your temples.
Only when you were completely spent did he lift his head, lips shiny and breathing ragged. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, voice rough with arousal. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”
Genma barely let you recover before he dove back in with a groan, tongue dragging through your dripping folds like he was addicted. He was feral—messy, greedy, moaning shamelessly into your pussy as he licked and sucked like a man possessed.
Every swipe of his tongue against your swollen clit made you jolt and sob. Fresh tears spilled down your temples, and your thighs shook around his head, but he didn’t let up.
“My good—fucking—girl,” he growled against your soaked flesh, voice thick. “Look at you. So fucking pretty when you cry for me.”
He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard while two thick fingers plunged deep inside you, curling instantly. You came again with a broken scream, back bowing sharply off the bed. The orgasm ripped through you even harder than the first, leaving you shaking and gasping, tears streaming freely now. But Genma didn’t stop. He kept licking you through it, gentler for a few seconds… only to bury his face back in for a third round with a hungry moan.
“Genma—please—fuck, it’s too much—” you sobbed, voice hoarse, fingers weakly tugging at his hair.
He pulled back just enough to look up at you. He looked drunk, pussy juice smeared across his chin, eyes half-lidded and glassy. “Kaiji ever make you squirt, baby?”
You shook your head frantically, still trying to catch your breath. “N–no… I don’t… I don’t think I can—”
Genma’s expression shifted into something downright predatory. A slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. “Oh, you can,” he murmured, voice low and sweet in a way that made your stomach flip. “You’re gonna do it for me, baby. I’m not stopping until this pretty pussy squirts all over my tongue.”
You were still shaking, breathless and teary, when he mercilessly buried his face back in. His groans were deeper now, almost animalistic, as he devoured you. His free hand pressed down firmly on your lower belly, and you moaned at the pressure.
Genma groaned in response, the sound vibrating straight through your clit as he made out with it—slow, filthy, open-mouthed kisses mixed with hungry sucks. His fingers pumped faster, curling relentlessly against that spot inside you. You were soaked. The sloppy squelch of his fingers plunging in and out of your dripping cunt filled the room, your juices coating his chin, his hand, and dripping down onto the sheets.
“Fuck, listen to how wet you are,” he praised between licks, “Such a messy girl.”
The pressure on your lower belly combined with his relentless fingers and mouth quickly became too much. That strange, building sensation grew heavier, like you had to pee. Your eyes widened and you jerked hard, trying to scramble up the bed.
“W-wait—Genma—!” you gasped.
Genma’s eyes flashed with pure hunger. He pushed down harder on your belly, pinning you in place while his fingers sped up. “Feel funny?” he cooed. “Yeah? That’s it, baby. Don’t fight it.”
You shook your head frantically, convinced you were about to lose your bladder.
“Be a good fucking girl and squirt for me,” he growled, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked hard.
The coil snapped.
You cried out as a huge gush of fluid sprayed out around his fingers, soaking his face, dripping down his chin, and drenching the sheets beneath you. Your legs shook uncontrollably as you kept squirting, wave after wave gushing all over him.
Genma ascended.
A deep, guttural moan tore from his chest as he drank you down like a man dying of thirst. He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his mouth, tongue lapping and swallowing greedily, desperate to catch every drop. His eyes rolled back slightly, completely lost in it, moaning and whimpering into your pulsing cunt.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he slurred against you, voice muffled and reverent.
He kept licking and sucking long after the last spasm faded, cleaning you up with long, hungry strokes like he couldn’t bear to waste a single drop. When he finally pulled back, his face was glistening, hair damp, eyes dark and blown wide with raw lust. He crawled up your body, pressing messy, wet kisses along your trembling thighs and stomach before hovering over you. His voice was low, wrecked, and full of filthy affection.
“Fucking perfect… squirting all over my face.” He kissed the tears from your cheeks, grinding his painfully hard cock against your thigh. “Think you’ve got another one in you, princess?”
You could barely speak.
Your body was limp, boneless, completely melted into the soaked sheets. Brain fuzzy, eyes glassy, tears still slipping down your temples. You’d never felt this good in your entire life. Every limb felt like warm mush. All you could do was whimper softly and nod, staring up at him with dazed, fucked-out eyes.
Genma’s expression softened as he drank in how utterly ruined you looked.
“Poor baby… look at you.” He climbed over your trembling body, knees planted on either side of your hips. His thick, heavy cock slapped down against your pussy with a wet smack. Little droplets splashed across your belly and thighs at the impact.
“Fuck…” he breathed, eyes locked on the mess between your legs. He started sliding his cock up and down your sloppy folds, coating every inch of himself in your juices. His hand rubbed all over his length, spreading your wetness, jerking himself slowly as he teased your clit with the tip.
You were so wet that he could’ve slipped inside without any resistance at all.
“Genma…” you whimpered, voice small and broken. “Please… I feel so empty. Need you inside me. Please.”
He let out a shuddering breath, his whole body taut and trembling above you. The head of his cock nudged at your entrance, slick and ready. “Yeah?” he rasped, voice strained. “You need my cock, baby? Need me to fill up that pretty little pussy?”
You nodded frantically, hips twitching up toward him. “Please… need it so bad. Please fuck me—please, please, please—”
Genma pushed forward.
A broken whine tore from his throat as he sank into you in one smooth, easy glide. You were so wet, so warm, so sloppy that he bottomed out effortlessly, hips flush against yours. He froze there, buried to the hilt, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted in pure bliss.
“F-fuuuuck…” he whined. His cock twitched hard inside you, throbbing against your walls. “Oh my god, baby… you feel so fucking good. So warm and wet—shit—I’m gonna lose my mind.”
He stayed completely still for a long moment, just savoring the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him. His forehead dropped to yours, breathing ragged. “My perfect girl,” he whispered hoarsely, pressing a messy kiss to your lips. “Taking me so well… like you were made for my cock.”
You could only moan softly, completely boneless beneath him, hands weakly grabbing at his shoulders as your brain stayed deliciously empty.
He pulled back slowly, then slammed back in with a wrecked moan, setting a deep, desperate pace. He was losing his mind—brows furrowed, mouth open, sweat dripping down his temples as he railed you into the mattress.
“Fuck—fuck—baby,” he groaned, voice cracking. “You’re so fucking wet. Shit, you’re sucking me in…”
Even while losing control, one of his hands reached down between your bodies. His thumb found your swollen, abused clit and started rubbing messy circles. You wailed. The pleasure was overwhelming, almost too much, but your body kept taking him, greedy and fluttering around his thick cock.
The pressure built again, that same deep, terrifyingly good feeling.
“Genma—! Gonna… gonna…” you sobbed, tears streaming.
“Do it,” he growled. “Squirt all over my cock like a good girl. Come on, baby—make another mess for me.”
Your entire body seized as you squirted hard around his thrusting cock. Clear fluid gushed out in messy waves, soaking his pelvis, dripping down his balls, and splattering against your thighs with every deep stroke. The wet, filthy sound of him fucking you through it was obscene.
“Fuck yes!” Genma moaned loudly, eyes rolling back as your pussy clamped down on him, pulsing and gushing. His hips stuttered, pace turning erratic and desperate. “Thaaaat’s it… that’s it, baby, keep going.”
He fucked you through every wave, thumb still rubbing your clit, drawing it out until you were a sobbing, trembling mess beneath him.
His hips jerked forward once, twice. His eyes widened. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna cum—”
He started to pull out in a panic, but you were faster. You crossed your ankles behind his back and locked your legs around him, yanking him back inside you.
“N–no,” you begged, voice hoarse and fucked out. “Don’t pull out… cum in me, please… this is y–your pussy,” you whimpered, legs squeezing him even tighter. “It’s yours. Please fill me up… need to feel you leaking out of me…”
“Oh my gods—baby—” he gasped, a broken whine ripping from his throat as he stopped fighting it. Slamming in to the hilt, he buried himself as deep as possible. You could feel the way his cock pulsed inside of you, thick, hot ropes of his cum flooding your insides.
He trembled as he pumped load after load into you, filling you up until you were leaking around his cock. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me… taking my cum like such a good girl. This pussy is mine, huh? All fucking mine.”
He kept grinding into you slowly, riding out the last waves of his orgasm while pressing sloppy, breathless kisses to your neck and jaw. His body was shaking, completely spent, but he stayed buried deep inside you, plugging his cum right where you wanted it.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered against your skin, voice soft and wrecked. “So fucking perfect for me.”
Eventually, he let out a satisfied groan and slowly pulled out, watching with obvious pride as his cum leaked from your puffy, abused pussy.
“Yeah… look at that,” he murmured, voice thick with smug satisfaction.
Climbing off of the bed, he disappeared for a moment, returning with a bottle of water and a wet rag. You were still floating, brain completely melted, body limp and trembling. All you could do was whimper softly as he helped you sit up a little, holding the water to your lips. “Drink, princess. C’mon, be a good girl.”
You sipped obediently, eyes glassy. When you’d had enough, Genma set the bottle aside and started gently wiping between your legs with the warm cloth, cleaning up the mess of your combined fluids with surprisingly careful hands.
He leaned down and pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs, your stomach, then up to your chest and neck. “You did so good for me,” he praised between kisses, still sounding way too pleased with himself. “Came so many times, squirted all over me… Kaiji never made you do any of that shit, right? Pathetic. I ruined you for him in one night.”
You let out a tired, breathy laugh, still dazed. Your hand weakly pushed at his shoulder.
“…Why do you keep bringing him up?” you mumbled. “If I didn’t know any better… I’d think you were jealous, Genma.”
An omake for chapter 72 of my fic, Arrogance, in which Kiya and Genma’s scene under the willow tree goes exactly the way poor Kakashi feared it would. ⋆ ˙ ⟡
For @theybie-baby, who never misses an opportunity for a smut scene. <3
𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢!
“Genma,” Kiya whispered, though the warning was ruined entirely by the laugh trembling beneath it, “we have to be quiet.”
His answer was to press another kiss to the side of her throat.
“You first,” he murmured.
Kiya’s eyes fluttered shut, a moan slipping from her lips. Her fingers tightened in his hair, which was loose today, already mussed from her hands. He had shown up in a T-shirt and sweats, of all things, probably rolling right out of bed to come and see what had set off the compound’s barrier seal.
Uniformed Genma was dangerous enough.
Suspended-from-duty Genma, with his hair down, his mouth on her neck, and who’d rushed to her aid (false alarm or not) was an imminent threat to her panties. She was soaked—embarrassingly so—her panties clinging hot and slick to her pussy.
Still, she had to at least attempt to save her dignity. Kiya, knowing that nothing good could come from letting him keep talking, clapped one hand over his mouth.
“I mean it,” she giggled breathlessly. “Kakashi and Raido are right over there!”
The willow branches swayed around them, long green tendrils brushing the grass like fingers. Kiya lay sprawled beneath it, grass cool against her back, Genma warm above her. Beyond the curtain of branches, the koi pond glittered in the morning light. Fish drifted beneath the surface in flashes of orange and white, and every so often the breeze sent a ripple skating across the water.
Something wet poked at her palm, and Kiya yanked her hand away from his mouth with a squeal.
Genma caught her wrist, bringing it back to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the thick band of scar tissue there. “Says the one making all the noise.”
The sunlight streaming through the willow leaves caught the side of his face, illuminating his pretty chestnut eyes. Kiya stared shamelessly, a curl of satisfaction rising in her navel at the way his pupils blew when he caught her gaze.
“You know,” he said softly, one hand curving around her waist, “when you dragged me away from the house, I thought you actually had something to say.”
She arched one brow. “Complaining?”
Genma let out an amused huff, threading his fingers through her own, and pushing back until her arm was pinned in the grass above her head.
“About you?” he teased, leaning down until his lips hovered a breath from hers, “never.”
Kiya would never stop lamenting the fact that this man was, unfortunately, every bit as smooth as he thought.
“I do have something to say, you know,” she lied, for no reason other than to reclaim some ground she had absolutely already lost.
“Oh?” he said indulgently, busying himself with placing warm, open-mouthed kisses down her neck and along her collarbone. She could feel him smiling as he went. “Let’s hear it.”
“I…” Kiya bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to give him the satisfaction of moaning, “I brought you here because I wanted to...” She paused, searching desperately for something that sounded plausible and dignified. “To properly thank you.”
Genma went still against her collarbone.
Then, slowly, his head lifted. His mouth curved, and Kiya knew at once that she had made a terrible mistake.
“Thank me,” Genma repeated, as if the word had been gift-wrapped for him. His voice had gone low and sweet, threaded with just enough indulgence to make her stomach dip. Like her attempt at dignity was exactly that—an attempt, and one he found adorable. “My baby wants to thank me?”
Genma shifted, sliding one thigh between her own, forcing her legs open. His eyes, dark and delighted, tracked every little expression on her face as he settled over her again, fingers tracing the hem of her dress. He lingered there, only for a moment, before sliding his hand upward, bunching the fabric as he went. Higher, higher, until she was covered by nothing but her panties.
His thumb swept over the damp fabric in a single, featherlight pass. Kiya’s back arched, a choked gasp tearing from her throat.
“Genma…”
“Shh.” His lips found her ear, breath ghosting over the shell. “You wanted to thank me, didn’t you? This is more than enough.” He pressed two thick fingers straight against her soaked panties and rubbed the fabric against her swollen clit.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, head tipping back into the grass. Her hips bucked against his hand, and Genma gave a low hum against her throat, the vibrations making her shudder.
“So fucking wet,” he groaned. “I can hear how sloppy you are, baby. Listen.” He rubbed faster, the lewd schlick-schlick of her drenched panties obscenely loud in the quiet garden. Kiya bit her lip hard, but another moan tore free anyway.
“I’m serious, y-y’know.” Her mind struggled for purchase. “Thank you for—ngh—for defending me,” she managed, voice catching on a moan. “You got suspended because of me.”
He grinned. “You know I’d do it again any day,” he said, low and matter-of-fact, “but since you wanna make it up to me so bad…”
Genma hooked his fingers into the crotch of her panties and yanked them aside. The cool morning air hit her dripping pussy, and Genma’s gaze dropped, dark and hungry. “Look at this pretty fucking mess. All this for me?” he breathed, as if he’d never seen anything more beautiful.
Kiya grinned, biting her lip and nodding. “Mhm,” she breathed, “all yours.”
He smirked back before sliding down her body, hooking her legs around his shoulders, and burying his face in her cunt like a man starved. He flattened his tongue, dragging it from her dripping hole up to her clit, then sucked hard on the swollen bundle of nerves. The wet sounds of his slurping and groaning into her pussy filled the air.
“Genmaaaa—! Fuck!” Kiya cried, hips bucking wildly against his face. She fisted his hair and ground her soaked cunt against his tongue, smearing her juices all over his mouth and chin.
He pulled back just enough to growl, “That’s it, baby. Use me. Ride my fucking face.”
Shoving two of his thick fingers inside of her, he pumped once, twice, before curling them to rub against that spot that made her vision go blurry in pleasure. His lips sealed around her clit and sucked. The wet squelching of his fingers pumping in and out filled the serene air. Kiya mewled in ecstasy, tugging at his hair, pulling him closer, closer, like she was trying to merge him into her.
He took it so beautifully. Letting her pull, letting her grind against his face, groaning as she practically manhandled him. He was giving and giving and giving, and Kiya didn’t know what to do with all of it, with the sheer force of his affection, of his desire.
Her whine drowned out everything else, high and breathy. “Y-you’re gonna make me cum a-already—ngh—fuck!”
“C’mon, baby,” Genma rasped, pulling back just enough to speak. “Please, give it to me—” He broke off with a moan of his own as he latched onto her clit, sealing his lips around it and sucking, hard, the way he knew she liked. With his free hand, he began to palm at his straining cock over his sweats, hips rutting up.
Kiya cried out, the sight tipping her over the edge. Her back arched high off of the grass, hips bucking wildly as she gushed all over his tongue. She saw stars, little flashes of white and black, and through it all, the only thing she could feel was him, his tongue, his hands, the hot puffs of his breath against her skin. Genma moaned like he was the one getting fucked, drinking every drop, tongue fucking her through it.
He barely let her breathe. Crawling back up her body, kissing every inch of skin as he went, Genma didn’t give her a single second to come down.
“I need you so bad,” he breathed, panting. “My pretty girl.” Pushing down his waistband, his heavy cock sprang free, slapping against her stomach. It was flushed dark, steadily leaking precum that trickled down and pooled into her belly button. He grabbed her by the thighs, spreading her open wider, and dragged the fat head of his cock through her messy folds.
She was trembling, oversensitive and overwhelmed, but the sight of his cock had her letting out another needy moan. “Shit, Gen…”
“Gonna fuck this pretty little pussy now,” he rasped, eyes brimming with sheer want.
Kiya pulled him down by his hair with one hand, capturing his lips with hers. She could taste herself on him. With a tiny moan, she reached down with her other hand and grabbed his cock, lining it up and guiding the head inside of her.
He groaned into her mouth, his pretty face drawing in pleasure. “Fuuuuck,” Genma uttered as his hips sank forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust. “Gods, Kiya,” he moaned, snapping his hips forward, hard. “I. Love. This. Fucking. Pussy.”
Each word was punctuated with a thrust, Genma’s voice gone deep and guttural.
The wet pap-pap-pap of his balls slapping against her ass echoed under the willow as he pounded into her. Every thrust forced more of her juices out around his cock, dripping down her ass and soaking the grass beneath them.
“Yeah?” she gasped out, dragging her nails down his back. “Tell me how it feels.”
“S–so good,” he choked out, the words wrenched from somewhere deep in his chest. “So fuckin’ tight, so wet—” He buried his face in her neck, mouthing at her pulse point as he continued to drive into her. “You take me so good, baby, so fucking good.”
His praise was a drug, and Kiya was nothing if not an addict. She craved it, lived for it, and right now she was flying higher than she ever had before. She let out a shaky cry as he shifted inside of her, hitting that spot inside that made her vision go white.
“G-gods,” she moaned, insatiable. Her hand snaked down her navel, toying with her poor, sensitive clit.
“Right there, huh?” he murmured, a smug little smirk on his face. “Wanna cum for me again, baby?”
Kiya whined, nodding. He shifted his angle just slightly, and then he was grinding against that spot with every thrust, and Kiya was gone. A litany of curses spilled from her lips as she came for the second time, pussy gushing around his thrusting cock as she shook and cried out.
Genma buried a groan into the crook of her neck. He was close, she could feel it in the way his muscles tensed, in the frantic, shallow breaths against her skin. With a choked grunt, he pulled out. Kiya whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks. With deft fingers, he hooked the damp fabric of her panties and pulled them back into place.
Fisting his glistening cock, he stroked himself furiously, aiming right at her ruined panties. Thick ropes of hot cum splattered across the purple fabric, soaking through it, dripping down her folds. “Fuuuck,” he hissed, head thrown back.
After a moment, a lazy, satisfied grin spread across his face. He glanced down, gaze fixed on the mess he’d made between her legs. “Look at that,” he breathed. He used the head of his cock to smear it everywhere, then shoved the cum-soaked fabric back between her lips, pushing them inside her with two fingers. “Keep those there for me, hm?”
Kiya hummed in satisfaction, biting her lip. “You’re nasty, you know that?”
Genma looked up at her. It was, without question, the single smuggest expression Kiya had ever seen. “And you’re loud.”
…
Fuck.
She stared up at him in abject horror, eyes flickering in the direction they’d left Raido and Kakashi. This time, she slapped a hand over her own mouth.
Genma laughed, kissing the back of the hand pressed over her lips. Shaking his head, he helped smooth her dress back into place, plucking a blade of grass from her hair.
“Relax,” he murmured, still entirely too pleased with himself. “You sounded fucking hot, at least.”
Kiya squawked, half in indignation and half in amusement, and shoved him hard enough that he toppled over into the grass.
I'm gonna write a x reader fic for his birthday, I wanna do some kinda like group thing! like exchange fics/art or something? I'm not an artist tho, but i can write.
Backstory: Maus Haus started as a server for the readers of the fanfic The Version That Saved You on AO3. It began as a space to discuss, get update pings, and simp for Itachi, Shisui, Kakashi, Genma, Sasuke, and Obito. While still rooted in fic and fandom, since we've now grown into quite a community, we're opening it up for all creatives and badass people. Consider it an upgrade.
Rules: 🥷 Remember, folks. Those who break the rules are scum…but those who don’t read them? Illiterate scum.
🍃 Be 18+
If you're underage, you're being escorted back to the Academy. Or sent to Orochimaru’s lab. Pick your poison.
🍃 Respect each other.
We have zero tolerance for racism, sexism, homophobia, threats, or any kind of harassment. Some disrespect is fine, even encouraged, if it’s mutual and sexy. Use your judgment.
🍃 Don't yuck someone else's yum.
No character bashing or slander campaigns. You can dislike a character. But don't make it everyone else's problem.
🍃 Post content in the correct channels.
When in doubt, you can ask. Or post to the channel you think it's most relevant in. When someone is admiring Shisui's beautiful eyelashes, they don't want to suddenly get bamboozled by a pic of Zetsu.
🍃 Trolls and ragebaiters will get hit with the banhammer.
‧₊˚ ⋅🥢🍜 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Thank you @arabella0001 for helping me put this post together! Tumblr confuses me.
ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!
(what? this is a totally normal server full of totally normal people… wdym?)
Hello! Hope you’re all good! Forgive me if this is a strange question but I’m wanting to get into drawing and I love the pictures of Kiya you have, I was wondering if there were any apps or websites you could recommend? I love this specific art style and I see so many people doing it these days for other characters but no one ever says what they’re actually using and I’m extremely new to this! Any recommendations at all would help. Thank you🩷
HIIIII BABE I am so sorry to inform you of this but you’re asking the complete wrong person lmao!! I don’t draw, only write! I commissioned the piece on my page (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
Sorry I’m not of much help!! Best of luck to you in your endeavors <3
so i’m gonna assume that it’s gonna be a happy ending but my heart is genuinely aching for kiya especially after the latest chapter. Please tell me that danzo is gonna be dealt with as soon as possible and the same goes for that dumbass (excuse my cursing) Hiruzen and kiya will be left alone because i genuinely get heated when kiya gets hurt.
I’M SO SORRY 💔 but yes, there will absolutely be a happy ending!!! Danzo and Hiruzen’s days are numbered here on out; things are about to get WILDDD. we’re literally about to hit one of these:
CW: battlefield aftermath, gore, graphic descriptions of injuries
Itachi had never spent a birthday on a battlefield before.
He could not say he recommended it.
The plateau stank beneath the summer sun, the air humid and thick with flies. Bodies lay across the mountainside in uneven scatterings, some still half-sunk in mud, others dragged into rows beneath canvas awnings and separated by village. It was a gruesome sight, and Itachi certainly wasn’t the only one affected.
From his place at the back of the gathered Uchiha children, he could see the way they balked at the sight, turning away from the carnage and breaking off from the group one-by-one to heave up their breakfasts.
Itachi understood the impulse. His own stomach churned dangerously, but he couldn’t give in. He was the clan heir. He had to remain composed.
He could not look away.
Before they left the compound that morning, his father had rested one hand on his shoulder and said, very simply, “Don’t turn away. A shinobi does not have the luxury of ignorance. What you see today is not meant to frighten you. It is meant to teach you.”
Ahead of him, his father’s voice carried evenly over the plateau, explaining the disadvantages of the terrain to those still capable of listening. By then, that number had narrowed considerably. Several children were crying. Several more were vomiting. A few appeared to be doing both at once.
Itachi tried to follow. He really did. There was a lesson here, and he was meant to learn it. But his attention had focused on a corpse instead.
The man lay half-turned onto his side, arm outstretched as if he was reaching for something in his final moments. What remained of his neck was a dark, ruined column of flesh and bone. The severed edges had dried black in places, red in others, and through the mess of it, Itachi could see the pale knobs of his spine. Flies gathered there thickly. Tiny white larvae stirred in the wet tissue.
‘Happy birthday to me,’ he thought distantly. Six years old today. How many more birthdays would he get? Ten? Twenty? None?
His fingers curled at his sides.
He did not want to become one of the bodies. He did not want to make bodies, either. These were people. Someone had taught that Iwa shinobi how to hold a kunai. Someone had scolded that Konoha shinobi for tracking mud into the house. Someone had once held each of them as babies.
And now they were here. Fed into the same machine and sorted afterward by forehead protector.
If this was what it meant to be a shinobi, then perhaps he did not want it.
But wanting did not seem to matter much.
If he refused, the wars would not stop. If he turned away, bodies would still fall. If he decided he did not want to be a shinobi, someone else would take his place, and the same blood would darken the same mud.
His father continued speaking, voice steady as stone. Itachi swallowed. Perhaps that was the answer, then. If war would happen regardless, then maybe his duty was not simply to survive it. Maybe his duty was to become strong enough to end it.
He was not naive enough to believe that he, a six-year-old boy, could solve world peace. But someday, if he became strong enough, perhaps he could help build a world where war was no longer necessary.
Perhaps.
“Itachi!”
He jolted as his name tore through the somber air, shrieked furiously by a familiar voice. Itachi turned at once, training moving his body on instinct, one hand dropping to the kunai pouch at his hip.
Kiya was charging straight at him.
For one instant, he could only stare. Her eyes were wide. Her face had gone pale. Itachi’s mind, startled as it was, supplied the only reasonable explanation it had available.
Again? She was going to attack him, again?
Here?
Really?
Of all the places she could have chosen to resume their fight, she had picked here? In the middle of a battlefield. Surrounded by corpses. While his father was lecturing. On his birthday. Itachi supposed that he should not have been surprised. Kiya had never seemed particularly bothered by concepts like timing, restraint, or basic social courtesy.
Still, even for her, this was bold.
So bold, in fact, that some small, deeply unwilling part of him almost admired it.
Of course. That had to be the point. She had waited until he would never expect it. Until he was distracted. Kiya had apparently surveyed a mountainside full of corpses and decided what the day truly needed was another fight.
She slammed both of her hands into his chest.
The force knocked the breath from him. Itachi hit the ground hard, landing in a mud puddle with a splash. His jaw was slack. He couldn’t believe the nerve she had—really, what was her problem!? He pushed himself upright, mud sliding down his sleeve, irritation flaring.
His mouth opened, already forming some demand for what, exactly, was wrong with her, when he saw the kunai meant for his throat tear through Kiya instead.
Tiny bonus Itachi-POV scene from chapter 5 of my Naruto AU! (˶>⩊<˶)
[ Itachi x OC, slow burn, fix-it, happy ending AU, everyone lives / no one dies ]
Ah yes, your surgery was successful, not to worry. Everything went according to plan, you'll need to do some physical therapy to exercise and get used to your third arm, but your writing speed should increase in no time.
Hey so in case you see any hate comments on your fics, I saw someone say they make those bots on purpose to get you to delete your fic so they can either feed it to ai and reuse the content or even officially publish it and if the original is gone no one will go after whoever's pulling that sort of bs. I hope you never ever get any hate because you're amazing but I thought this was worth sharing just in case
HAHAHA yesss ive seen those dw!! Mainly I keep getting the art scam bots😭
One bot (with an actual account… my god they’re evolving) just commented on my update claiming that I’m also a professional artist and need money for my upcoming surgery 💀
I was unaware I’m having surgery. thank god they let me know 😮💨
