Forbidden sex with Naruto men. Different relationships with each character. Some are possessive, cruel, or indulgent depending on who they are. Featuring Naruto, Sasuke, Itachi, Omoi, Asuma, Kakashi, Yamato, and Madara.
❤︎18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 ❤︎
Naruto Uzumaki → Best Friend (Too Familiar, Too Late)
The sheets are messy, tangled around your legs as Naruto fucks you from behind, sweaty blonde hair sticking to his forehead. His hands grip your waist hard, cock pistoning in with frantic, sloppy rhythm.
“You—you really shouldn’t be—” you gasp, face pressed into the pillow, voice breaking.
“Shouldn’t be what?” Naruto groans, slapping your ass, watching it ripple. “Shouldn’t be fucking my best friend? Too late.” His dick shoves deep, hitting that spot that makes you wail. “You feel too damn good to stop now.”
You twist your head to look at him, eyes wet, lips trembling. “If anyone finds out—”
“They won’t,” he pants, fucking you harder, jaw clenched like it’s life or death. “And even if they do, I don’t care. Been wanting you since forever.” His voice cracks, needy, desperate. “So take it. Be good and let me keep you right here.”
You moan his name, clenching around him, and his head drops to your back, whispering against your skin: “Wrong or not, you love it. I know you do.”
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Sasuke Uchiha → Rivalry Turned Obsession
He’s got you pinned against the wall, hands gripping your wrists above your head, his dick driving into you with a roughness that makes your knees buckle. His eyes burn, wild with the edge of something too sharp.
“You hate me. Why are you doing this?” you gasp out, head tipping back as the wall scrapes your spine. “You shouldn’t—”
“Shut up,” Sasuke bites out, thrusting harder, like punishing you for speaking at all. “You think I care what I should or shouldn’t do? I want you.” His voice drops lower, meaner. “And I always take what I want.”
Your whimper breaks into a cry, and he hisses in your ear, “Say it again. Tell me I shouldn’t.”
You do, because you can’t help yourself, and he groans, slamming into you until the frame rattles. “Exactly. Wrong. Filthy. And you’re dripping for it.”
His teeth find your shoulder, his words hot against your skin. “I’ll fuck you until you forget about the rest, and the only thing left is me.”
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Itachi Uchiha → Brother’s Best Friend
Your thighs tremble where they’re spread across his lap, his dick buried deep inside you. Itachi’s face is unreadable, his hand tracing slow circles on your hip as if the intimacy isn’t soaked in sin.
Your brown skin glistens, tits bouncing with every thrust. “You shouldn’t be here,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Not with me.”
His breath brushes your ear, calm, cruel. “And yet you let me in. You opened your door. Your legs.” His hips shift, cock sliding deeper, dragging a broken cry from your throat. “Do you want me to stop?”
You shake your head, teary-eyed, clinging to his shoulders. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth to your neck. His thrusts stay measured, unhurried, as if he has all the time in the world to undo you. “Your brother would hate me for this. But you—you’d hate me more if I pulled out now.”
Your words crack on a whimper. “It’s—wrong—”
“Everything I do is wrong,” he says softly, almost kind. His dick slams up harder, stealing the air from your lungs. “So be quiet, and take it. If you want forgiveness, pray after.”
Ꮚ
Omoi→ Ally (Professional, Supposed To Resist)
His hands tremble on your hips, cock sinking into you slow, careful. Omoi’s voice stutters in your ear, breathless. “Shit—I really shouldn’t—”
You smile through a whimper, nails dragging down his arms. “You shouldn’t be fucking me like this. Should be professional, right?” He groans, forehead pressed to yours. “Don’t… don’t say it like that. Makes me wanna—fuck—makes me wanna go harder.”
And he does. His thrusts turn frantic, desperate, his hand clamping over your mouth to stifle the moans spilling out.
You pry it away, whispering, “Too late. You’re already inside. Might as well.”
Omoi’s eyes flutter, lips parting like he’s sorry for everything, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. He leans over you like a man tending to a precious, private flame. His dick hits deep and messy, his words a blur of apologies and filth: “So warm—so perfect. I’ll make it up to you later, just… let me stay inside a little longer.”
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Asuma Sarutobi → Family Friend
Your legs shake on his thighs, stretched wide around him. Asuma’s beard scratches your cheek when he leans in close, smoke still clinging to his breath. He should’ve walked away. Should’ve remembered the way your father would look at him across a shogi table, laughing.
But here you are, slick and whimpering, clinging to his shoulders.
“You really shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper, voice breathless, broken with a moan.
His hand palms your ass, squeezes hard enough to bruise. “Then why’s this pussy holding me like it doesn’t wanna let go?” he rasps. He drags you down harder, bottoming out, making your eyes roll back.
You shake your head, thighs trembling, “He’d be so upset if he knew.”
Asuma chuckles low, dirty, nipping at your neck. “Mhm, but you're still taking it for me, honey.” His pace turns rougher, greedy. “You know how long I’ve wanted this? You think I care if he finds out?”
Your gasp turns into a whimper, and he grinds deeper, watching your face crumble. “Go on. Tell me to stop.”
But you don’t. You can’t.
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Kakashi Hatake -> Old Sensei
You’re on your knees on his couch, hips raised, head buried in the cushions. Kakashi’s heavy cock splits you open slow, every inch dragging. His hand rests easy on your back, voice deceptively calm.
“You used to train me,” you gasp out, eyes glassy with pleasure. “You really shouldn’t—”
He cuts you off with a sharp thrust that makes your breath hitch. “Shouldn’t what? Ruin you? Feel how wet you are? You’ve been waiting for this longer than I have.”
You turn your head, cheek pressed to fabric, whispering like it’s a secret, “You were my sensei.”
His laugh is low, cruel. “Was. And look at you now—arched up, begging for cock. Tell me to stop.”
But you push back instead, taking him deeper.
Kakashi groans, hand sliding into your coils, tugging your head back so he can see your face. “I’ll stop when you stop clenching around me.” His thrusts get sharper, harder, filling the room with the slap of skin. “Go on, sweet girl. Tell me how wrong it is while you drip all over me.”
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Yamato → Commanding Officer
His wood release binds your wrists above your head, body pinned against his chest. His dick stretches you full, grinding slow, deep. He observes everything: your flushed face, the glow of your skin, the way your rationale slips with your mind.
“This is—ahh—wrong,” you whisper, writhing helpless in his hold. “You really shouldn’t—”
Yamato’s voice is quiet but sharp in your ear. “You think I care about right or wrong when you look like this? When you squeeze me this tight?” His hand slides to your throat, tilts your head back. “Sweet little Chunin, acting like she doesn’t want it while dripping down my cock.”
You whimper, “You’re my superior—”
He chuckles dark, biting your shoulder. “Exactly. And I’m ordering you to take it.” His thrusts slam sharp and deliberate, making you cry out. “No running. No hiding. You’ll learn discipline between these sheets.”
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Madara Uchiha → Leader & Superior
He doesn’t fuck you like a man. He fucks you like a conqueror. Your back’s pressed to the table in his war room, scrolls scattering to the floor with each thrust.
“Why are you—You shouldn’t be—” your voice cracks on a moan, legs shaking in the air.
Madara cuts you off with a growl, hand locking on your throat. “I shouldn’t? I decide what I should and shouldn’t do.” His dick drives in, thick and brutal, forcing cries out of you. “Your body answers better than your tongue, girl. Gripping me like it was made for me.”
You whimper, “You’re my leader—”
“And you’re mine now,” he snarls, hips snapping hard enough to rattle the table. He leans close, breath hot against your lips. “No one else will ever touch you. Wrong or not, you’ll take every drop.”
And when you cum, tears streaming, he fucks through it, smirking down at your wrecked body.
summary: the newlywedded uchihas have yet to fulfill their... obligations, even though they're coming up on a year anniversary. some think it's not going over as smoothly as expected, as many arranged marriages do. 'what a gentleman,' the old ladies would gossip at the fact that you were yet to be with child. it's funny, how wrong they are.
contains: madara x f!reader, arranged marriage (but you couldn't be more perfect for him), breed¡ng, preggo mentions, creamp¡es, mating press, light choking, praise (good girl, princess, doll), cerv stim, madara is a FREAK, reader matches it, uchiha love (he is fucking crazy)
your head hums each time you pull a groan from madara’s mouth into yours, straddling his waist with your chest flush against his as you tongue him down. “god- you’re insatiable, woman,” he murmured between a sloppy break in the kiss. a husky chuckle comes from him when he sees you already a mess of yourself. spit sticks strands of hair to your cheeks, your lips dripping in it- so pretty and swollen already.
your desperation was evident when he arrived home and you immediately approached him in a loose-fitting navy blue robe- certainly not yours judging by how it all but hugged your figure. he peered down at you when you wordlessly outstretched your arms to him, and his expression shifted once you were close enough that he could make out the mounds beneath the fabric. a thick arm hooks around your waist, his other taking a firm hold of your jaw for a kiss. madara loved you hard, an aggressive lover through and through. you were his, and he would make that fact apparent to everyone including you.
no other woman could match the energy madara exuded. you, however, were different. so much smaller than him, he clicked his tongue at your pitiful bow. your face remained unchanged, and you rose to look him in the eyes. madara felt something stir within him- he felt challenged, in a way. every woman before and without a doubt every woman after could not meet the eyes of the man, and if they did it was shaky and uncertain. never in a million years would he take such a woman’s hand. much to his fathers dismay.
it was much deeper than eye contact to him. to him, it was stability. it was significant of the fact that you matched him in beliefs and wits. to him, you were equal. you were weaker by many miles, but you were wise- somebody he would be proud to have by his side and make a mother.
marital manners were something quickly thrown out of the window though, because you matched him in one other thing.
desire. lust, you could say. you and madara were unapologetically attracted to each other in a carnal, unceremonious way. fuck making you shuffle around and bow to him in your own household. many would assume the two of you to follow such outlines firmly, but oh were they wrong.
even after he broke the kiss, your eyes stayed fixed on his face, searching for something. “what do you need, lover?” he’d break you from your little trance and you’d look him in the eyes, your fingers gripping wrinkles into his robe sleeves. “i need you, madara.” you’d purr.
and now you’re on top of him, his robe untied around you and the entire front of your bare body on display for him. ‘like an escort,’ he had chuckled when you tugged it free over top of him. “you look a fucking mess already, doll.” “for you, madara.” nothing sounded better than his name on your tongue. the two of you flash a sly smile at the other, like two animals pausing a fight for dominance before attacking the other. this time, it’s him. gloved firm fingers and a thumb nestle on each side of your neck, and he singlehandedly tugs you down by the throat to be centimeters from his face. “better be for me.” he squeezes and a breathless, silent yip comes from you. not from the action, but the sudden arousal it causes. “only you.” you weakly strain out. the pressure isn't enough to make you struggle, but enough to make you fuzzy. he nips part of his other glove between his teeth, unsheathing it and tossing it to the side. “let’s see what you’ve got for me then, hmm?” he murmurs, tugging you down into another kiss with one hand and the other finding it’s way to you already soaked cunt. a hot moan breaks from you and into his mouth at the contact, two thick fingers lazily rubbing at your clit.
it’s not long before he’s stretching you on them both- you make it so fucking easy for him. you choke when the hand around your throat pushes against you, separating the kiss with a breathless “phuahh..” from you. “pretty girl.” he smiles, admiring your fucked out face. “needed me home, didn’t you?” he gives your head a small shake, like you’re a toy he’s trying to get to work. “huh, doll?” “mhmm..” is all you can hum, catching your breath and swallowing the spit pooling behind your lower teeth. “it’s… it’s been two weeks…” you breathe, watching for his face to realize what you’re saying. “since i bled.” you can see the cogs turns behind those inky eyes of his, and your cunt throbs at the way they soften upwards.
you and madara fucked like rabbits when he was with you, but that was the thing. he wasn’t with you often, and when he was, it was horribly mistimed with your cycle. poor you had been left to get through every ovulation cycle on your own, left only with his robes soaked with the smell of oak, jasmine, and his musk.
“hahhh? is that what this is?“ his laughs send tremors through your body, still sitting atop him. “i’m still to give you an heir, aren’t i?” he chuckles, like it just slipped his mind. like that wasn’t the only reason you were arranged to be wed so quickly. everything is so hot to you that even that fact has got you tightening around nothing. the fact that such a traditional man is so lost in you he’s forgotten your joint marital duty. “mhmmm,” you hum, your hands finding their way to his chest, taking two handfuls of his breasts into your palm and softly raking your nails over them. “i’m still to carry it, madara.” your voice drips like syrup, and all he can think about is you, ripe with his child and in this same crested robe.
your cunt burns as he goes to the hilt, even when all you and your body needs is him, he’s still so big. “there you go, princess. you’ve got it.” he rumbles, licking his lips like he’s soaking up your noises and whines like an incubus. “fuck- you feel fucking good.” he shudders, pelvis to cunt with you. your legs are bent and your knees are to your shoulders, arms still drowned in fabric weakly splayed out across the futon. “you feel good- stretch me so good, madara-” you whine “yeah? do i, pretty girl? feels like this pussy was made for me,” he chuckles as you tighten around him at the statement, a weak whine crawling it’s way out of your throat. “jus’ for you, sir,” you weakly smile, and that title is enough for him to start moving.
your hands find your chest and you weakly squeeze and pinch at yourself while his cock splits you with each thrust, you feel so much but you’re somehow desperate for more. it’s not enough, you need more of him. “m-mada-raaa,” he fucks his name out of you, head tilting down at your pathetic little pleas. “more- i need f-fuh-hahhh.. fucking moreee,” you groan, eyes locking with his. he almost looks offended. “more? more??” he cackles.
in one swift movement, his hands are on either side of you and he’s leaning forward, still sheathed and curling you in on yourself with him. “you’re too fucking much, you know that, brat?” he hisses, punctuating that poisonous nickname with a small thrust that sends blissful agony shooting through your nervous system. “you take and take,” he pulls out, situating himself to stand on the balls of his feet now. “all you do is fucking take,” he buries himself- fully inside- balls practically to your fucking asshole, and you feel like you’ve fallen flat on your back with the wind that’s been knocked out of you. he's suddenly flush against every erogenous spot inside of you and you're sobbing. “but.. hahahh.. you’re so fucking perfect i just want to give.” for a moment, you swear you see red flash in those eyes of his. he looks crazed above you, eyes wide and weakly smiling, and you swear you’ve never felt more attracted to him.
you’ve already milked one load from him, warm cum shooting into you for maybe 20 seconds straight, but it’s not enough. he’s ramming it back into you, a milky white ring forming around the base of his cock as cum mixed with cream keep the two of you attached by strings of each other each time he pulls out, just to drive it directly back into you. you look fucking stupid on him, and he loves it. loves that pretty little fucked out face. loves bringing a hand up to smush your cheeks together and give you little smacks like he’s trying to wake you up. “thought you wanted more, doll.” “nghh.. i do… i want all of you- i need you, madara. you’re- hohhh, you’re all i n-need…” you pathetically babble. “you’ve got me, princess. i’ll fucking kill for you.” uchiha’s and the way they profess their love. isn’t it so dreamy?
tears stream down your pretty face, you feel so exposed beneath him like this. you’re getting the air fucked out of you again and your hands ball up as you focus on the increasing heat in your belly. “you’ve got it, doll. hahh- need you to finish- hahh, gotta make sure it takes- hahahh,” his filthy words make the turbulence of feelings you’re riding through even rougher, and a sob escapes from you as you teeter on the edge. “cum for me, princess. i’m- hah, i’m gonna finish too- gonna shoot right into you,” his words are separated with the loud wet plaps of your cunt meeting his pelvis, and the harmony of those noises and his vile speech create have got you throwing your head back onto the cushioned tatami. you’re not sure what he’s saying, but the rumble of his voice is the only thing that's keeping you grounded amid your nerve-frying orgasm. his fat, precise tip abusing your low-set cervix has you going crazy, and then a particularly hard thrust has the two flush against one another and he’s emptying directly into your womb.
madara isn't always so vocal, his roster of noises consists of low groans and huffs (and... laughs for some reason..?), but god you've got him falling apart. every clench around his wide dick has got him singing above you. "hahh-- good girlll," he growls, sucking air between his teeth. "don't waste a drop, take it all for me," he pulls out of you, falling back on his knees and letting you lower body unfold and drop. you're still twitching from your climax, every part of you feels fuzzy. like you're in a cloud. a rough thumb rips you back to the mortal plane as it grazes your clit and plugs your entrance. he tuts, "now what'd i say?" you whine, limp legs weakly jerking in reaction. "nnh- madaraaa..." you breathe. you're funny, he thinks. "whaddya say, princess?" "mmm... thank youuuu..." you giggle weakly, hands coming up to rub at your teary eyes. his smile is gentle as he looks at you- not so hungry compared to the others. you're just too sweet in your glow. you make him soft. and that dumb little smile you reciprocate has him even softer.
Synopsis: Trying to save a relationship that seemed almost bound to fail
Content Includes: Smut, bird brain behavior
A/n: Hiii, my name is Jae and I’m getting into fanfics after years. I’m 22, in college and I want to start writing on my free time. I read some founder content on here and now it’s gone so I wanted to give it a try. Enjoy 💜
Hashirama Senju:
You had been staring at the invitation for nearly 5 minutes now. You’re Invited. Hashirama Senju and Mito Uzumaki. A marriage of alliance, the clan from Uzushiogakure were fading more and more on a daily.
“You’re not considering going, are you?” Hana, your older sister asked.
“I’m not sure, why?” You said, closing the invitation.
“He’s your former lover and you’re going to show up to his wedding? That’s a bit scandalous, don’t you think?” She frowned.
“He’s literally Hokage, and he said we’d always be friends,” you mumbled.
“And yet here you are, 10 months later avoiding him like the plague,” she said, making you roll your eyes, walking away.
Hashirama had been a sensitive subject for months, since the breakup. Perhaps it was because you weren’t together for a few short months, but a two year long relationship. You were a baker, oftentimes giving away the left over bread at the end of the day to families in need.
When he heard, he immediately visited, he was the most upbeat shinobi you’d ever personally met. He told you about his and Madara’s plans for Konoha, and that it had been decided he’d be Hokage and he wanted to provide the materials for you to feed everyone. You didn’t think you could do it, but he had a way of persuading and motivating others.
The event turned out wonderful and everyone seemed to enjoy your baked goods. So much so that Hashirama came back the next day to praise you and gush about how happy he was it all turned out well. Seeing each other, outside of work related concerns, came naturally, he didn’t want the village or clan to build any rumors, so it was never public. However, he always managed to sneak away from responsibilities, coming to your shop, you’d close and share lunch, conversation and eventually kisses.
What began to bloom, it was far from perfect, he was unreliable, unattainable to a certain degree. He had stood you up plenty of times because of work, went on missions without even saying anything and had you completely oblivious, even asked you to bake for events instead of spending time together.
It hurt, but it was impossible to stay angry with him long. He would beat himself up about it, apologizing sincerely, promising that someday, it will be different.
After one year together, he was more than sure you’d be the woman he married. You never held onto hope before like you did with him. Your life had changed in many ways. While to the public knew you both to be close associates, only his closest shinobi knew you were his. He had moved your home and shop closer to the Senju compound. A bigger place, but less privacy, he was only a mile away, he showed up whenever he wanted.
He came almost daily, even if it was only a few minutes. You anticipated and yearned for your secret quickies and passionate kisses. To be held by him for only a moment. To forget that Konoha existed and you came after her.
By a year and a half, your love was spreading thin. There was no change, only a wish that he could change. He wanted to publicly parade you, marry you with a lavish wedding, have an army of babies with you. He just couldn’t, not right now. Not when peace was still a fragile concept, when there was much war and bloodshed. Just keep hope, and he will keep his word, he always told you.
Then the rumors came, Uzumaki coming to the village. The clan was increasingly hunted for decades, and at last they were turning to their distant cousins. Everyone was talking about her, Mito, the beautiful matriarch had been seen speaking to the Senju clan head and first Hokage. There were no words that could describe the way your stomach dropped.
Kissing your lips softly, you moaned, as his hips went deeper. He lifted one leg, putting it on his shoulder, kissing your calf.
“You look beautiful,” he smiled, as you moaned louder. “Getting so wet, pretty girl” he whispered.
Rubbing your clit, he rolled his hips, he was deep, stretching you wide. Your fingers interlocked with one of his hands. Your own eyes rolling back as words came out mixed with gibberish. The sex always felt life changing, he was like a god, bestowing a piece of attention onto you and you crumbled for it every time. Your orgasm was intense as ever, as he moaned and whimpered, filling you up, kissing you deeply.
Pulling out, he caught your feet easily and kissed them and sucked your tongues, making you laugh, which made him smile. The memory made you clench your thighs.
“There has been talks about you…getting pretty close with Mito Uzumaki” you said quietly, catching your breath.
You watched in real time as his smile slowly dropped and his head followed.
“The Uzumaki, they are practically being hunted, especially the women and children and they are of the same blood as Senju”
“Are they moving to Kono-
“The elders, are proposing an alliance” he said, beating around the bush, making you sit up.
“Marriage,” you corrected him, sharply.
“Yes,” he said, with a reaction that seemed like it hurt to even say that.
“You’re marrying her and you’re here fucking me, telling me we’ll be together?” You scoff in disbelief.
“Don’t say it like that. There is always hope. I’ll tell Mito, she’ll understand what we have. We can hire you as a staff member, and-“
“Do you hear yourself, Hashirama?” Your voice cracked.
“Y/n, please…try to understand…peace…it is the most important mission in our lives, for the future generations, so our children and grandchildren aren’t seeing death at the same numbers that we’ve had to see. So they can dream and chase after those dreams and hope they come true”
“And what about me?” You asked, his eyes watered with guilt.
“I love you, don’t you know that?” He said, but you shook your head.
“Not enough to put me first”
“The village-“ he started, but he couldn’t finish, not when he knew you were so close to the truth.
“I’m sorry, Y/n…I’m trying, I just-there’s too much on the line, to prioritize my wants. I’d choose the village over madara, if it came down to it” he stressed. Pulling the sheet over your breast. Staring at him in disbelief, your mouth hung open.
“Then what is the point of this? Two years, Hashirama,” you were getting choked up.
“I want you, Y/n. Don’t ever doubt it, I just need you to have hope” his voice cracked, his forehead resting against yours. Before he kissed you, deeply. The two of you laid down, and he held you the rest of the night, as if you’d slip away.
Four months was exactly how long you lasted before you were forced to let him go. He was releasing you, as he put it. You deserved more and he couldn’t continue to let the woman he loved to wait for him. Hope. It always had been a false dream that was told to civilians to make them hold on, all along. Important men didn’t have the privilege to truly indulge in promises for long, and that included Hashirama Senju.
“Lord First, you have a guest,” his retainer spoke.
“Let them in,” he smiled brightly.
He began to stand, but he froze as you walked in. Clearing his throat, he stood up straighter, fixing his robe.
“Y/n, it’s wonderful to see you. You look…you look beautiful as always” he said sincerely.
“Hashirama,” you said, pulling the invitation out, sitting it on the desk.
“I can’t,” you continued. He visibly gulped, clenching his jaw.
“Are you sure? The reception won’t be nearly as lively without-
“Don’t. Please. This isn’t easy for me,” you furrowed your eyebrows.
“Even now, I am selfish. I know you deserve more, but I just want you close, to protect you,” he said quietly.
“I know, that is what you do best,” you smiled, wiping the tears before they could fall.
“I just wanted to make sure everyone was safe, that I could give peace and-
“Hope, I know” his breath caught and for a moment he looked like he would cry himself.
“Well. You came all this way just to refuse my invite, surely that isn’t all, what can I do for you?” he change the subject, clearing his throat.
“I wanted to request and escort, I am leaving Konoha”
“What? Why?”
“I’m seeing the world, there’s so much for me to see, so many people to meet” his eyes softened, and he crossed his arms.
“You’ll really do that and have me stressed all the way out here,” he said, making her laugh.
“Isn’t that in the job description of hokage, ‘make sure to stress about your pretty ex girlfriends?’” You teased, making him laugh.
“Of course,” he agreed, watching you begin to turn to leave.
“Y/n…take care, and you’re always welcome to come back” he said, his heart was pounding, watching the love of his life leaving, and there was nothing he could do.
Unable to say goodbye, feeling the pain and tears sitting in your throat, you blew a kiss and turned away. You kept walking, choosing to not look back, leaving behind the life you almost had.
Madara Uchiha:
“You missed date night…again,” you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. Madara stared at you plainly, and brushed past you, letting himself into your small home.
“I’ve been sitting through hours of meetings, don’t start,” he said, removing his armor. Huffing, you followed behind him.
Always so blunt, Madara never pretended. It was one of the qualities that made you fall for him. He had been returning from a long mission when he and you crossed paths. You were only half Uchiha, and a seamstress. You lived outside of the compound and had started a business with your best friend, Ume.
He’d seen you struggling to pull the heavy wagon of material and immediately took over. You thanked him, but you were a bit disappointed. You’d heard so many things and yet, he didn’t even dress like a clan head. Catching you staring he asked, “What are you looking at?” and you said how cheap his clothes looked for a clan head, he blew up like dynamite.
That warring state pride and arrogance of his era was loud, boastful, and hilariously adorable. You laughed at his yelling, and immediately offered to mend what war had ruined of his robe. You didn’t even think he’d show up, until he did, arms crossed, disgusted by all of the pink everywhere.
You began seeing each other. No labels, no word indicating where this was headed. Just passion. He was intense, brilliant, and extremely intentional. He had priorities and plans. He had just lost his last brother, and he had duty, his people, his clan, who still depended on him.
Konoha and Peace were at the top, along with continuing being one of the strongest. It didn’t take long to realize you weren’t as important as you thought you were.
He’d disappear for days to weeks, at a time. He came back around when he felt like it. He didn’t even have to show his face, you felt the eyes of his clan, watching for him, while he was too busy to do it. There were even rumors of different women, because the arrogant leader was a handsome bachelor and the elders wanted him with a Uchiha woman.
You’d argue, but he wasn’t like other men. He didn’t have to yell, he’d let you yell and express yourself, going on about him not actually wanting to be with you, before he’d say something like ‘You’re here, are you not?’ and walk away, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.
And yet, even while swearing to your friends that you simply would stop seeing him, the moment he showed up, already unstrapping his armor, you let him in. Or if you tried seeing other guys, he’d interrupt the date, without making a scene, rather showing his authority, and you found yourself complying because none of the guys were ever as intriguing as he could be.
He could make you feel small, smaller than you had ever been before. Craving his attention. His validation. It all became second nature, like something in you had shifted. Ever seeking what he wouldn’t give more than crumbs of, and when sex was introduced, you were hooked. You could hardly think without him. He was possessive, he was broken, yet perfect.
You wanted to fix him. Heal him. Show him that even without his family… he was still loved. However, now one year into your relationship, if you could call it that, your love was spreading thin.
“Madara, why are you here?” You asked. You hadn’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and you were getting tired of the games.
He turned and glanced at you, before pulling you into his chest, kissing your neck, making you exhale.
“We’re not on speaking terms,” you managed to say, lightly groaning.
“No contact, was it? Such customs are for common men,” he brushed it off easy, when his tongue brushed against your neck, a moan slipped out. Abruptly shoving him away, he looked confused.
“I’m not a priority, this village is, your clan is, battle and victory is, not me,” you yelled, your voice cracking.
“You aren’t a priority, but you’re mine” he agrees, but corrects.
Shaking your head, you turned away from him, but he caught you by your waist, pulling you close.
“You’re so selfish,” you cried.
“I have responsibilities far beyond this… beyond you. Don’t pretend any of this is new to you.”
“Then maybe we don’t need to see each other anymore, maybe we should see other people” you told him.
“Hm, how many times did you practice that little speech for me? Look at me, say it like you mean it,” he whispered.
Slowly, you faced him, looking down before you met those charcoal eyes. You wanted to say it, to shove him away, yell at him. But seeing him this close, your heart fluttered, those dark, mysterious eyes, that wild hair that showed his victories. Instead, you slowly went to your toes, kissing him.
The kiss was hot, messy, consuming, the way you liked it. Madara picked you up easily, you threw your head back, moaning at the trail of passion marks he left, as he carried you to your bedroom. Though you didn’t make it to the futon, before the two of you simply stopped in the hall, tearing the clothes away, his hand roughly cupping and squeezing your breast, as you pressed against him.
Going to your knees, as his cock sprang free, you immediately took him in your mouth. He groaned, pulling off his shirt, grabbing a fistful of your hair, making you take more than just the tip.
“Eyes up here, let me see that fire,” he said, and he grunted as you took him deeper.
“Good girl, my good girl,” he encouraged as he started fucking your throat, that lazy arrogant smirk on his lips, seeing you make a mess all over him. Moving his hand down to your jaw, he grabbed it, loosening it, and he began to slip all the way back there. His grin widened at your gagging and spit.
You moaned, your head bobbing, as you reached your fingers up, touching his abdomen, just as he groaned and held you in place, cumming down your throat. Swallowing it all, you fell backwards as he released you. Looking up at him, your eyes watering, drool running down your chin.
Turning away, you looked at him over your shoulder, and turned back and began crawling down the hall. He slowly stalked behind you, stroking his shaft, he was not done with you, far from done with you. Not tonight. Not ever.
Humming softly, you dressed slowly, smoothing each layer of clothing. Adjusting to the maternity robe that hugged your six month baby bump. Looking in the mirror, you turned to the side, though your gaze lingered on the ring you now wore on your finger.
The wedding was beautiful, though you hadn’t been given much of an opinion. Madara had the final say, he was perceptive, independent, and uninterested in following tradition the exact way the elders wanted. Despite stressing out his entire council, and not letting you even decide how your hair would be styled. It was apparently one of the most beautiful weddings in clan history.
Slipping on your outer robe, just as you were to put on your shoes, the guard spoke, making you jump.
“Lady Uchiha,” he spoke, his eyes immediately went down to the floor. One of the many unspoken rules, you hadn’t heard Madara say it himself, but everyone man in this village knew to not meet your gaze for more than a few seconds.
“Yes?”
“Lord Madara has asked that you remain within the compound today, he…prefers his heir to remain within his vicinity” he said, carefully.
You paused, hand resting over your stomach.
“He asked?” You raised an eyebrow.
The guard, still a teenage boy thrown into the life of a shinobi, he smiled awkwardly, keeping his gaze lowered.
“It is his wish to keep you and his heir close”
You almost laughed. Of course it was.
“Thank you, tell him I’ll be in the garden,” you told him, walking past him, further into the house, going towards the garden out back.
You made your way down the steps, into the small garden, you felt his gaze instantly. He didn’t have to say a word, with a simple grunt, the staff was approaching offering water. You were mother of his heir and the clan doted relentlessly. The young maidens gushed about how protective ‘Lord Madara’ was and they were happy he married and a baby was on the way.
Meeting his gaze, you stared for a few seconds before you finally looked away. The clan, the village, Hashirama, they could think that the two of you shared a happy marriage, that you had managed to make the great Madara Uchiha settle down. You felt silly at times, knowing you were closer to the bottom of his hierarchy than they knew. He had you in the palm of his hand, he never denied it. Possessive and controlling, down to the clothes you wore, and yet he was honest and that was the only things that kept you from leaving.
please ignore my errors or I’ll die from embarrassment lol
Hiiiiii ❤️❤️ I saw your requests are open and thought I’d send something 😌 are you writing for Jiraiya? If so, idk how you feel about age gap, with him being with a younger f!reader. If not I totally understand!!!!! (I’m dying for dirty old man smut 🤪)
I LOVE JIRAIYA!!! i am 18 so trust i imagine myself in an insane age gap relationship with him 😭 🙏 ngl this one got nasty as hell LMAO so beware
jiraiya x younger!reader
warnings: NSFW!!! This is legal!! reader is of age!!! a lil controversial…please scroll if this isn’t ur thing; this is nasty guys im ovulating
not proofread!!!
Jiraiya was a very perverted and horny man….but we already knew this.
he was notorious for going to the bars and strip clubs and spend his money on pretty girls that were much too young for him. Jiraiya never thought about settling down. that is until he met you.
you were so young, but you weren’t naive. you knew what you wanted, and you knew how to put your foot down. you scolded him a lot for being so perverted but he could see the way your thighs would rub together at certain things he said, or when he would sit too close to you. it was driving him crazy.
eventually you finally let him in your pants…and god was it the craziest night of your entire life. he had you in the nastiest mating press, one big hand on your neck and the other helping him press your legs even higher above his shoulders. his cock was pounding into your sopping cunt, it was making the most obscene noises you’ve ever heard. you’ve squirted at least three times by now. your mascara was running down your face. you were exhausted and disgusting, and he was not letting up. you thought because he was old he would have less stamina….but you were so wrong.
after such an insane night, how could you not agree to go to dinner the next one. and the one after that….and so on. you two started dating. and yes some people had their speculations but most left you alone because they knew not to mess with jiraiya.
you got to see a soft side of him that no one got to see. the side where he would get excited about the new chapter in his book he just wrote. the side where he would secretly check on naruto and make sure he had enough food in the fridge for the rest of the week. the side where he would cuddle you on the couch and fall asleep with a book in his hand because you were just so comfortable. you also found out he was a human furnace lmao. and you found out about jiraiya’s clingy side…he would whine when you would leave the bed to go to the bathroom lmao.
but the sex was crazy….and there was a lot of it.
jiraiya was horny almost 24/7. and you being his young, beautiful girlfriend….how could he not want you all the time?
he always said the dirtiest things during sex. “God…you’re so tight. such a tight virgin pussy…” You always scolded him for saying these gross things, but it never stopped him. he claimed, “you get even tighter when your angry hehe.”
he knew just how to work your pussy too. Any man you’ve ever been with before him never knew how to truly please you….but Jiraiya was different. His fingers and mouth were truly magical. and he was oh so much stronger than you too. he would hold your hips down and spread your thighs, using that magic tongue of his to please your clit while he worked three fingers into you, finding every special spot inside of you easily. He wouldn’t come up until you’ve squirted on his face at least twice.
oh and trust he begs too. Jiraiya would gladly get on his knees and kiss your feet while begging “Please let me taste you, baby. i can sense that you’re dripping for me.” he was such a gross man
also expect all of your panties to go missing….
Jiraiya is the first man to make you squirt. and he makes you squirt every time. he pulls out the most brutal noises out of you. you tried really hard to act pretty and soft during sex; but jiraiya makes that impossible. after he’s been rubbing your clit for 4 hours straight you get to a point where your eyes are rolled back and your screaming. but he loves it, it turns him on more than any fake moaning ever could.
he also loves watching you lose yourself and become brainless on his dick. when your all glossy eyed and your nails are scraping down his chest, he just smirks and fucks you even harder.
he makes you call him daddy. “tell daddy how good he’s making you feel. tell him how wet he’s making your pussy.” he’s a vile old man….and unfortunately for you, that turns you on
jiraiya surprisingly isn’t a super possessive man…or at least not on the outside. when someone tries to flirt with you, he’ll back off and let them. because he knows you’ll tear em a new one and walk up to your older boyfriend (him) and cling to him for protection. at the end of the day; jiraiya is the best man you’ve ever dated. and he’s great in bed too hehe
summary: Kakashi's first few months as Hokage have gone well—maybe too well. When he's sent on a trip to a neighboring nation, you give him a little assignment of your own.
Read on AO3
“The main issue is, I just don’t want to go.”
Kakashi laid in bed, his arm around you as he tried to enjoy the last night he would spend in his home for the coming week. Tomorrow, he was to begin his journey to the Hidden Grass Village, where he would spend five days evaluating their version of the shinobi academy and making suggestions for improvement in the hopes of advancing their methods.
“Sure I want to empower the Grass to become a major ninja village,” Kakashi continued, “But it’s never been the responsibility of any of the previous Kage to spend so much time away from their own village.”
“That’s true…” you began, drawing random patterns on his bare upper body with your fingertip, “but we’ve never had this environment of cooperation before.”
You were right, as usual. Kakashi exhaled and hugged you closer. “How am I supposed to spend six nights away from you?”
He didn’t see any issue with the idea of bringing you along—Shikamaru would be there as well—but when he mentioned it to the elders, Homura left no room for discussion.
This isn’t a vacation, Lord Sixth. Your time will be spent fostering positive relationships with our new allies—not sightseeing with your wife.
It was still ridiculous, but Kakashi knew that arguing the point further would get him nowhere. Worst case, it would result in an even longer time away. He was barely halfway through his first year as Hokage; still largely under the elders’ thumb. So Kakashi bit his tongue, keeping his harshest comments to himself until he made it home and was able to vent to you.
“I know,” you agreed. “It’s going to be miserable.”
Kakashi may have had less of an issue with the trip if it hadn’t been coming at the worst possible time. If his calculations were correct—and he was quite certain they were—you would be ovulating soon; probably peaking a day or two before he was due to return. Six months of marital bliss had supercharged his urge to grow his family and continue his line, and he was going to miss his prime opportunity to put a baby in you?? Completely unacceptable.
You were well aware of this particular hang up; the timing of the trip needling you as well. “Is there any chance you can get done early and make it home sooner?”
“I doubt it,” he admitted, feeling his muscles deflate with resignation. “It’s not like a mission, where I could re-strategize to complete the objective quicker.”
You hummed in understanding, letting your finger trace the shallow dips between his abs. “Then maybe, you’ll have to make up for it another way.”
That wandering fingertip started traveling down the valleys of his stomach, following the trail of soft silver hair leading to his waistband. His relaxed cock instantly jolted with excitement.
“If you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them.”
You let out a sultry giggle as you took that final leap, gently palming him over his briefs. Kakashi groaned and tilted his head back, enjoying your touch. You nuzzled your nose into his neck before beginning to trail kisses up his throat and along his jaw. “Every night,” you whispered, your lips tickling his earlobe, “I want you to touch yourself.”
Kakashi’s cock greedily twitched beneath the fabric. You reached inside his briefs, curling your fingers around his hardening shaft. “Touch yourself for me, and think about how I’ll be here, doing the same and thinking about you.”
Heavy breaths slipped through his lips as his blood rushed to that central point of pleasure, his cock fully erect in no time. Your touch always cut right to the liquid heat of his arousal, causing his mind to fog over and his eyes to roll back in his head.
“Y/N…” Kakashi groaned, your name a decadent prayer. You were pumping him just how he liked, precum already beading on his flushed cockhead.
“Make yourself feel good,” you purred as you slid his underwear down out of your way and continued to massage his heated flesh. “Pretend your hand is my cunt. Think about me riding you, bouncing on your lap, squeezing down on your cock.” You nibbled on his earlobe, panting into his skin as you rubbed your thighs together. “Work yourself up to the point that your balls are tight and your thighs are shaking.”
Fuck, he was nearly already there. “Haaa—how does this make up for the fact that we’re apart? I have a good imagination, but not good enough to actually make you appear.”
“Because, just when you’re about to cum…” You abruptly took your hand away, leaving his cock to throb unattended. “You’re gonna stop.”
The sudden loss of pleasure caused him to whine like a wounded animal. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled hollowly, “the trip is going to be bad enough as it is, and you want me to add physical torture to the mix.”
“Not exactly,” you laughed, kissing the warm skin of his cheek. “What I want,” you continued, taking him back in your hand, “is for you to edge yourself, so when you get back, you can release all that tension—all that cum—deep inside me.”
Those words alone in your lust-addled voice were enough to send him right back to the edge.
“Come home to me,” you continued, your lips brushing against his ear, “and fuck me until you can’t give me another drop.”
“Y/N…” he moaned. “I didn’t realize you had such a filthy mind.”
You giggled and sat up on your knees, leaving his cock unattended yet again. “So you’ll do it?”
The reward sure sounded good, but could he really get through a week like that? Kakashi had long been out of the habit of walking around pent-up and frustrated. You had him spoiled; accustomed to kissing you out of your clothes and fucking you on the smallest whim. Going without sex for the whole week was going to be difficult enough, and then edging the whole time sounded…
Well, pathetic, for lack of a better word.
“I don’t know Y/N—”
“Think about how good it will feel,” you added, beginning to rub him again, “when you finally come home and fuck a week’s worth of cum inside me. Where it belongs.”
Goosebumps prickled their way down his legs when you traced the pad of your thumb along the prominent vein that ran along nearly his entire length. Kakashi wanted to think of himself as a man in control; a man who was above such base actions as chasing an orgasm. He didn’t think with his dick. But fuck, when you touched him like this, he didn’t think at all.
And if it might work…
“I’ll try,” Kakashi said. “For you.”
You squealed in excitement, straddling his lap and wrapping your limbs around him—showing your appreciation in a flurry of kisses.
Kakashi reached between your legs and slowly ran his finger along the crotch of your panties. “We don’t have to start right away, do we?” The sticky wetness soaking the fabric was proof enough that you’d gotten yourself just as worked up as him. “I mean, I’m still here tonight. No reason to hold back yet, is there?”
You kissed him again; more slowly this time as you pressed your chest against his and let him slide your panties down your thighs. “Impatient man…”
-
Most of the next day was wasted in transit; surrounded by ANBU guards on the journey to the Village Hidden in the Grass. Upon arrival, Kakashi was met by the Grass’s head ninja and a few of their trusted companions. They only had time for a brief tour before Kakashi and Shikamaru were yawning and looking for where they could turn in for the night. The head ninja showed them to their private rooms and informed them what time they could expect to pick back up tomorrow.
One of the ANBU shinobi placed Kakashi’s bag on the floor before walking back out to stand guard. No matter how peaceful things appeared in the wake of the Fourth Great Shinobi War, it seemed he wouldn’t be able to enjoy any solitude outside the village; other than when he was meant to be sleeping.
But he had something to do before sleep, didn’t he?
Kakashi sighed and flopped down on his back on the bed, appreciating the accommodations the Grass had provided. The room was clean, spacious, and comfortable. It made him feel more than a little guilty for what he was about to do in it. But he’d made you a promise, and he was not a man who would break a promise to you.
He removed his gloves and forehead protector, placing them on the nightstand. His vest followed, laid out on the unused pillow so he could throw it back on quickly if necessary. With a deep breath, Kakashi unbuttoned his pants and pushed them halfway down his thighs. His briefs were quick to follow, exposing himself in the dark room.
His cock was completely flaccid; a rather uninspiring sight considering the task you’d given him. Kakashi half-heartedly began touching himself, trying to work himself up despite his awkwardness in the unfamiliar setting. Masturbating on an assignment was something he’d made sure not to develop a habit of. Aside from a few dire exceptions, Kakashi had always waited until a mission was complete and he was back home to find relief; either alone or—far more preferably—with you.
Kakashi closed his eyes and pictured you; the sparkle in your eyes when you wanted him, the way your body moved in your efforts to entice him. You never failed; every single time Kakashi would be drawn to you like a moth to a flame—hard within minutes and throbbing throughout the foreplay.
Yet what he was experiencing now was more like kneading a lump of dough through his disinterested fingers.
He exhaled heavily, throwing his hand to the side and covering his eyes with the other arm. Maybe it just wasn’t going to happen. Kakashi felt way too inside of his own head—he couldn’t relax enough to let go; let his body react the way he wanted. The way you wanted.
He reached into the inner compartment of his pack, where he’d secreted away his favorite Icha Icha volume. Nothing like a comfort item when spending an extended time away from home. He was counting on the book to help him keep his promise, but his brow furrowed when he felt something else hidden beside the book.
Kakashi’s entire body flushed when he pulled out the object and found himself holding a pair of your panties; dainty black lace, suspiciously similar to the pair you were wearing last night.
Did she…?
His suspicions were confirmed when he touched the gusset and found a little patch that was still wet from his prior ministrations. Feeling that gooey discharge on his thumb finally made his dick twitch with interest and drew a shaky breath from his lungs.
If these had been found in his possession at a bad time, it would have been hard to explain. His Icha Icha habit was already a given, but if anyone had found him walking around with your used panties…
Who knew the Sixth Hokage’s wife was such a filthy little vixen?
The thrill sent a shock straight from his brain through his heart and down to his dick. The traitorous appendage was quickly swelling with blood, leaving him light-headed and needy. Kakashi instinctively brought the dirty panties to his face and inhaled through both his nose and mouth. The scent of your cunt made his cock throb for attention. His free hand gripped his length, squeezing the hardened shaft and tugging upward, clear precum already beading at the flushed tip.
“Y/N,” he moaned, softly enough to be sure no one could overhear. “Baby… fuck.” He took another deep breath that made his mouth water. The previous apprehension behind his movements melted away as lewd memories and the overwhelming scent of your pheromones possessed him to move at a feverish, undignified pace.
Just like that, the Sixth Hokage was officially reduced to a panty-sniffing pervert.
Gods, he felt like a shameful deviant but he didn’t care. You’d given him exactly what he needed—everything you could give without giving him yourself in person. Kakashi grunted and bucked his hips into his fist as he thought of everything he would do to you when he got his hands on you again.
He imagined being inside you; feeling the soft heat of you wrapped around his cock. Hearing you whine and sigh in pleasure, whispering sweet nothings to each other, holding you close and fucking deeper and deeper into you. Filling you with cum, knocking you up.
Putting his baby in you.
Fucking breeding you.
You were his—all his. But it wasn’t enough; not until he had you round-bellied with his child. Living, visible proof of who you belonged to and who you’d given your body to. All for the future of his clan; now your clan as well, evidenced by the ring he’d been honored to place on your finger.
Without command, his tongue leapt from his mouth and lapped at the gusset of your panties, tasting the sweet tang of your pussy. Your taste drove him wild. He clamped his teeth down on the fabric, a moan tearing its way up his throat as the muscles in his pelvis suddenly tightened.
Kakashi quickly stopped, interrupting the orgasm by pinching the bottom of his cockhead and tugging his balls away from his body. He stayed that way for a minute or two until he caught his breath. When he let go, his flesh was red and angry; resentful of the last-second denial. A cramp lodged in his stomach and his heart pounded against the walls of his chest while sweat dripped down his brow, stinging his eye.
He let out a series of controlled, steadying breaths. Though his muscles relaxed and his heart rate settled, his cock still hung heavy against his stomach, twitching in frustration. Resigned, he acknowledged that his original assessment was indeed true.
Until he had his hands on you again, this would be nothing short of torture.
-
As he had expected, Kakashi hadn’t been able to rush through the week. He did however manage to stay on schedule, spending each of the five days meeting with high-ranking officials and offering what he predicted would be valuable insight to enhance their training methods. Most likely, they would be on their way to becoming a Great Nation in no time. By all rights, it was a successful week.
Despite this, Kakashi couldn’t find any pride in his promising efforts. Not when he was spending his nights edging himself into a sleepless, irritable mess.
By the time he and his subordinates returned to Konoha, Kakashi felt tense enough to snap. Even the softest breeze made his hair stand on end. He wanted to run straight home and work all his frustrations out in bed with you, but an obligatory stop at Hokage Tower put him on an even tighter delay. He gave his report to the elders, seated behind his desk, adjusting his legs every two seconds in a vain attempt at finding relief.
He wasn’t even sure what he’d told them about his time in the Hidden Grass. All he knew was that he needed to get to you, before his body staged an all-out mutiny.
The front door of his shared home with you was like a beacon, guiding him to the place he’d been trying to get back to ever since he left. To say that he was eager to get inside would be an understatement. Inside the house—inside you. His anticipation was so high that his hands shook as he attempted to unlock the door. Even the act of sliding the key into the lock felt pornographic.
Briefly, he worried he might not make it. That he would get all the way home, just to cum untouched on his doorstep.
The door swung open halfway, revealing the welcome sight of you; dressed comfortably in a silky pastel house robe that didn’t even reach halfway down your thighs. Visions of tearing through the intricately-tied obi and taking you right on the floor assaulted his mind even as you started to speak.
“Kakashi,” you grinned, turning his name into something wholly indecent. “There you are. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it back today.”
Kakashi shouldered his way through the threshold, dropping his bags only to immediately wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in. He held you tight against his body, letting you feel his demanding erection pressed against your stomach. “Nothing could have kept me from getting back to you,” he answered, the rumble in his voice exposing just how eager and desperate he was.
“Come on,” he purred, picking you up with ease and wrapping your legs around his waist. “We’re going to bed.”
“A-already?” you giggled as he started walking, his erection brushing against your core with every step he took. “You just got home.”
Kakashi hummed a low sound of amusement as he reached his destination, stopping at the foot of the bed. “And what does that matter?” he countered before abruptly tossing you down on your back—smirking at the way your body bounced on the surface of the mattress.
“I’ve been preparing all week,” he said as he made quick work of removing all the clothes covering his upper body. “If you think I’m going to continue to wait, you’re sorely mistaken.”
A bright, excited smile spread across your face as you sat up on your knees. “Do you think it worked?”
“Well, if my aching balls are any indication—”
“Kakashi!”
“What?” He might have laughed at the scandalized look on your face. You’d never known him to be so blunt and explicit, but the tight, needy feeling between his legs overrode his sense of decorum. “My balls are aching; they’re full, and they’re tired of being edged.”
“You poor man,” you teased before sliding off the mattress, arranging yourself on your knees before him. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”
Kakashi’s dick throbbed as your pretty fingers worked open the fastening of his pants and pulled them down his legs. A sharp hiss escaped his mouth when you dragged his briefs over his sensitive flesh. His cock stood straight up, allowing you to see every lurid detail.
“Oh—!” you squeaked, your eyes locked on his swollen balls and darkened tip. You tentatively reached forward, drawing your index finger up the length of his cock, causing the tender organ to twitch away from your touch.
“I think my dick is a little upset with you,” he smirked. “Holding back for that long was hell.”
“I’m so sorry,” you cooed, still addressing his petulant cock. “Maybe it was too long…”
“Absolutely it was too long.”
“Come here, I’ll make it better.” You leaned forward to kiss the tip of his cock, sending a wave of fire through his veins. The soft pink of your tongue poked out of your mouth and Kakashi knew you were getting ready to pamper him with that pretty mouth to make up for the effects of your over-the-top request. But he couldn’t let you. If you treated his cock with a shower of kisses like you normally would, Kakashi was sure he would bust right on your face and chest; defeating the whole purpose, no matter how sexy it was to think about.
No, he had a job to do. He just needed to buy himself some time to cool off.
Fingers tangling in your hair, Kakashi gently held you back—waiting for your gorgeous eyes to look up at him. “If you really want to make it up to me, I think it’s time I call the shots.” He tilted his head up and gestured to the bed with his chin. “Get back up there and let me see what you’ve been doing for the past week.”
You blushed and broke eye contact. “Kakashi…”
“Don’t act so shy when you snuck your dirty panties into my bag,” he chided, gently tugging your hair to make you face him again. “Show me.”
With a coy smile, you eased yourself back up on the bed, lying on your back to give him a good view. He watched as you untied your obi with the same care you’d used on his clothes, then tossed the belt to the side and let the robe fall open to expose your bare body.
Fuck, he would never get tired of that; seeing you put your perfect form on display for him. Kakashi exhaled deeply, his eyes roaming over you despite his need to calm his racing libido. But you were so beautiful, and it was his privilege as your husband to look at you any way he wanted. Especially when you’d put so much effort into what you wore to welcome him home… and what you didn’t wear underneath it.
“No panties?” he grinned. “Such a good girl.”
You blushed. “You like that?”
Kakashi tilted his head and gently gripped your calves, massaging his way up your legs. “Normally I prefer to take them off of you myself, but after last week, I think I’ve spent enough time with the contents of your underwear drawer.” His thumb barely swiped over your entrance, but your needy hole still quivered at his touch. “I’m glad you agree.”
“What did you do to them?” you giggled.
He leaned in closer, softly inhaling the clean scent of your soap and watching as wetness started visibly dripping from your cunt. “I ruined them,” he answered evenly. “I smelled them and I licked them and I wrapped them around my cock, and I would have cum in them if I hadn’t been saving every drop for you.”
Heat rose in your cheeks, making it painfully obvious to the lauded shinobi just how much it turned you on to think of your husband acting like a shameful pervert behind closed doors. He left a romantic kiss on your hip bone before leaning back.
“But enough about me,” he teased. “How did my beautiful wife spend her nights?”
You shifted for friction, held open by his wide palms. His discerning eyes watched every shift and ripple of muscle, savoring the way you were still so bashful under his scrupulous inspection. Curiously, he ran the rough pad of his thumb up the length of your slit once more, coaxing your clit out to play.
His breath fanned over you at the sight of your bundle of nerves, nearly as red as his cock.
“Y/N, your poor little clit is practically raw.”
You let out a whine. “I missed you, and when I thought about what you were doing at night…”
A low, dangerous laugh spilled from his lips. “My dirty girl. You were probably rubbing yourself, making a mess and cumming all over those gorgeous fingers right at the same time I was squeezing right under the head of my cock to make sure I didn’t finish. Burying that need to cum. All for you.”
“Kakashi…”
“Show me how you did it,” he commanded. “I want to watch you touch yourself.”
Your hand slowly made its way down your body. You might have thought that dragging it out would get you off the hook, but it only served Kakashi’s purpose. He kept his gaze and breathing even as you finally reached between your legs, gathering a bit of arousal on the pad of your middle finger before moving up to find your clit. The first touch made you jump and pulled a sweet little sigh from your lungs.
“Is it sore?”
“No,” you shook your head, “not too much.”
His chest vibrated with a dark, pleased hum. “Good girl. Now rub it for me.”
Kakashi urged you on with only his eyes, his pupils dilated like a predator’s. Your fingertip carefully outlined your clit, pushing it back and forth with indirect pressure.
“That’s right,” he panted. “Circles just like those. Is that how you did it?”
“Mhmm,” you whined.
“Keep going. A little faster.”
Your thighs twitched as you followed his instruction, winding your finger around your clit at a quicker pace. A drop of clear arousal gathered between your folds and started dripping down your cunt. He wanted to lap those sweet juices right out of your hole—to eat your precious little cunt until you were sobbing for his cock. He nearly gave in, before he noticed your free hand absently grasping the bedsheet.
“Mm-mm,” he shook his head. He looked from your hand to your bare breasts. “Your tits. Play with them.”
Pink heat spread over your chest as you released the sheet, instead putting your palm over your breast. Kakashi’s cock ached as he watched you pet and pinch your nipple until it stood at a proud peak. You moaned and moved to the other one, bucking your hips as much as you could against his iron grip.
“Pretty girl…” he breathed. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes…”
“Stick your fingers in your cunt. One, to start.”
You moaned again as your hand swiftly abandoned your clit to find your neglected pussy. You slid your middle finger in to the second knuckle, crying out at the feeling of something finally filling your empty core. Your back arched off the bed as you started pumping your finger in and out.
“Ah ah ah,” Kakashi tsked. “Not so fast. Slow down.”
He smirked at your defiant little whine, knowing that no matter how much you pouted, you would always do what he said. Without any further objection, you corrected your pace down to the languid strokes he preferred. “Mmmm that’s a good girl. Now add another.”
Through meticulous orders, he worked you up almost as skillfully as if he’d been touching you himself—which he still would have preferred, of course, but the naughty show you were putting on might become a staple for future foreplay.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Y/N. Did you look this beautiful every night, or is this special for me?”
For a few minutes, he just watched—forgetting all about his tortuous week and simply reveling in how lucky he felt to be yours. Kakashi knew too well how easily he might have ended up alone, assuming he managed to survive in the first place. But somehow you found him and got through his thick skull, putting your stamp on his heart. Showing him everything love could be. And no matter how many years passed with you by his side, he still felt the need to make the most of every second.
Enough dragging it out. He wanted you now.
Kakashi crawled onto the bed and lunged forward to suck your unattended nipple into his mouth. You whimpered as he ran his hot tongue over the pebbled bud, groans vibrating in his throat while he mercilessly sucked on your soft skin. He suddenly swatted your hand from between your legs and released you with a pop, hovering over you and grabbing you by the waist.
“You better not be too tender to handle me, Y/N.” His hot cock rested on your stomach, weeping precum. “I can’t wait any longer.”
His cock dragged down your body, leaving a sticky trail down your tummy—a promise of what was to come. A little lower and his tip slid over your sensitive clit, causing you to squirm as he notched his tip at your dripping entrance.
“Don’t run from me,” he exhaled, holding you firmly in place. “Be good for your husband.”
Kakashi’s hands tightened on your waist as he pushed his hips forward, forcing your folds to part and accommodate the fat crown of his cock. He let out an indulgent groan, but he instantly stopped moving when you answered with a breathy moan in his ear.
Fuck, you couldn’t make noise like that; he could easily cum just from those gorgeous sounds alone. As much as he loved them, he needed you to shut up if you wanted him to last.
He brought one hand up to cover your mouth. “Shhhhh baby…” He chuckled at the mixture of confusion and desire in your eyes. “Just… give me a second.”
With a doting kiss to your forehead, Kakashi pressed deeper inside, enjoying the way your cunt stretched around him until his entire length was seated comfortably inside your warmth. He brought his hands up to cradle your head, pulling your mouth to his and kissing you deeply. Then he leaned away just enough to look at you.
“You have no idea how bad I need this.”
Kakashi spoke the words against your lips, giving you no chance to respond before his covetous tongue slid into your mouth. He groaned as he kissed you and carefully pulled his hips back just to thrust back in. The sudden motion made you toss your head back and gasp, grabbing at his thighs.
“Fuuuuuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, burying his face in your neck as he started to pump in earnest, pounding you into the mattress. “Missed this pussy so much. Can’t believe I had to settle for fucking my hand that whole time.”
“What…” you challenged breathlessly, “now that you’re Hokage you’re too good to touch yourself?”
The mouth on you; teasing him even though he was balls deep in your little hole, your body bouncing under the force of his thrusts. “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly right.” He sat back on his heels and lifted your legs to give himself better access. “Why would I touch myself when I have my pretty little wife at home to touch me?”
He leaned down again, lording over you with a captivating presence. “Besides,” he taunted, folding you into a proper mating press with his hands behind your knees. “We’re trying to have a baby, aren’t we? So I would have to be a fool to cum anywhere other than inside your sweet little cunt.” Kakashi nipped at your lower lip. “You don’t think I’m a fool, do you Y/N?”
Your response came out in broken breaths. “O-of course n-not.”
“Of course not,” he crooned back at you, grinning as he wrapped his arms around you again. “Such a good girl.”
Kakashi nuzzled his face into your neck, appreciating the feel of you in his arms after so long. The scent of your clean skin welcomed him home far more than the sight of Konoha’s gate ever did. “Gods, I fucking missed you.”
He resumed his indulgent thrusts; taking and taking until he felt tingly with bliss. Determination and stamina were the only things keeping him from spilling inside you too quickly as he fucked you greedily; selfishly. No amount of imagination and practiced touch would ever come close to the feeling he got by being inside you. His cock was finally back where it belonged, and he was going to use your pussy to wring every ounce of pleasure he could.
“I never stopped thinking about you. Missing you. Wanting you.” He panted heavily, gulping down air in time with the harsh slaps of his full, angry balls against your skin. “I love you Y/N. Wanna fucking breed you.”
“Please—” you gasped, smattering kisses along his bicep and shoulder. “Kashi… give me a baby.”
He pawed all over you, his wide hands eventually settling on your hips to make you meet his thrusts. He renewed his assault of kisses on your neck, hoping he might accidentally leave a few hickeys in his wake. Anything to enforce his claim on you and remind the village who you belonged to, no matter how long a mission might keep him away. He would always, always come back to you.
“I made you my wife. And now… I’m gonna make you a mother.” He kissed his way back to your mouth and nuzzled his nose against yours. “You’re gonna take such good care of my babies. And I’m gonna take care of you.”
You whimpered a cute little sound before hugging him around his neck, gasping praises and promises of love while he pounded away at your helpless cunt. The pressure in his groin was approaching the tipping point.
“Gods, I’m close,” he groaned and gritted his teeth. His balls tightened and for a second, he was afraid he’d be denied yet again. “Please—Let me put my baby in you.”
You crossed your ankles behind his waist, caging him in close and throwing one hand down to grip the sheet. “Fill me… Kashi please—love you…”
“I love you so much,” he babbled, feeling the telltale tremor between his legs. “Love you so much. I’m gonna put a baby in you. You’re gonna have my baby. Fuck, Y/N, I love you so much.”
Stars burst across Kakashi’s vision as his long-awaited orgasm ripped through him. A deep, indulgent groan of pure satisfaction climbed its way up his throat. His heartbeat echoed at the base of his cock, the muscles pulsing with burst after burst of his sticky white seed, filling you to the brim. Kakashi pressed his palm flat against your lower tummy, holding you down as he buried his cock in deep.
“Gods—” He kept you bent at the sharp angle, fucking his load deeper inside you even as more continued to leak from his tip, searching for your womb. “Take it.”
Kakashi panted as he finally came down, looking at where your bodies remained intimately joined. The base of his cock glistened with a creamy ring of your arousal; your lips pink and puffy, your clit still swollen with blood.
You mindlessly rocked your hips, coaxing him for more friction. With an adoring smile, Kakashi leaned down on one elbow and slid his hand between your bodies, pressing his thumb into your clit and toying with it exactly how he knew you liked. You whimpered, grabbing for him as your cunt squeezed around his cock.
“That’s right,” he exhaled, his voice nearly betraying how exhausted the orgasm had left him. “Isn’t it so much better when it’s my fingers on you?”
You nodded furiously; your face tucked against his shoulder.
“Tell me, Y/N,” he softly requested. “Be good for me, and I’ll make you cum.”
“It’s so much better,” you whined. “It’s not the same when I do it. N-needed you…”
Kakashi smirked and closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss while he increased his pressure and rubbed a focused pattern into your bundle of nerves. Your thighs quivered, still locking him in place. He resumed fucking you at a lazy pace, pumping the root of his cock back and forth for more stimulation.
Suddenly you whimpered against him, digging your nails into his back. The muscles inside your pussy squeezed him as you fell apart around his dick, milking one more spurt of cum from his balls with a satisfying pang. He let you break the kiss, both of you gasping for breath.
“That’s right, Y/N. Take all that cum and turn it into a baby,” he panted. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
You whined and nodded, trembling from the ache in your thighs. He brushed his nose against yours.
“Such a good girl. Make a baby for us.”
Kakashi couldn’t help himself; he leaned back in to kiss you again. He loved you; he loved you so fucking much. Tightness swelled in his chest for how much he loved you. Every day, he was hit with this feeling; where he was living a life that seemed impossible for so long. When he thought of all the times he could have lost his life—lost this future—it made his throat itch. He used to be such an idiot. How the hell that past led him to you and this incredible promise of even more on the horizon, he had no clue. But he hadn’t taken a single day in your heart for granted. He knew he was never entitled to anything, least of all the love you constantly showed him.
When he backed off to let you breathe, you started to brace your hands on the mattress to adjust your position. Though he knew you had to be sore, he decisively held you in place.
“Wait—hold still,” he whispered. “Don’t move yet. Let’s make sure it takes.”
You nodded up at him, somehow both giddy and content. But there was a knowing look in your gaze too. “Kakashi, you’re exhausted. Lie down and relax.”
“I will,” he smiled. “Just another minute.”
He traced a delicate line down your body, lingering over your stomach and imagining what the next few months might hold. He couldn’t wait to grow his family and see the Hatake name rise to even a shadow of its former prominence. And the fact that he would share that future with you still seemed too impossibly good to be true.
“Y/N,” he exhaled as he gently folded his body over yours. “You’re the love of my life.”
Emotions caught in your throat as you hugged him, careful not to shift your hips so that you could keep both him and his spend securely inside you. “You’re the love of mine, Kakashi.”
He cupped your head in his palm and kissed you until he couldn’t keep himself upright any longer. Slowly, Kakashi pulled back his hips, freeing his sated cock and making sure his cum didn’t follow. He feathered gentle kisses along your leg before gently letting them down on the bed. You groaned at the relief in your muscles, still slightly out of breath. Then you turned on your side, keeping your hips aligned so that none of his seed would leak out.
Kakashi laid down behind you, settling in for the restful sleep he could finally find now that you were in his arms. He rested his left hand over your tummy, spreading his fingers over your skin to protect the baby he was all but certain was beginning to grow there.
“I’m so lucky,” he muttered into your hair. “You’re going to be the most incredible mother. For my babies. Gods, how did I get so lucky?”
You hummed and put your palm over his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You’re going to be an amazing father.”
Kakashi’s heart thrummed in his chest. “You really think so?” He figured he would never fully shake his fears that he would fail to be the father his children deserved, but he knew before they even existed that he would do anything for them. He only hoped the things within his power would be enough.
“I know you will,” you replied, lifting his hand to kiss his palm, then placing it lovingly back over your tummy. “I can’t wait to raise a family with you.”
“Neither can I,” he answered with a kiss to your temple. “Thank you… for giving me the chance.”
“Of course,” you murmured adoringly. “There’s nothing more I want in the world.”
Itachi is not someone who’d be reckless with this decision.
Sure, his cheeks would turn scarlet when you ask. His head would whip to the side so fast his neck would be in danger of snapping, drawing one leg up as his entire body shifts towards you on the couch. He would slip two fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tug, desperate for a cool breeze to tame the suffocating heat now creeping down his throat, flushing his chest.
His gaze would flicker across your face, hand resting on your thigh, squeezing once. He’d ask, “You — are you sure? You don’t want me to wear a condom anymore?” His voice would crack on the word condom and his blush would darken. Itachi would take a second to clear his throat, glaring at you without any real heat when you couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“I’m sure, Itachi.” You’d readjust your position, mirroring his, and look up at him through your lashes. “I just, I need to feel you. All of you,” you’d admit, playing with his fingers before lacing them together. The sweet heat building in your belly would remind you of the way it feels to drink a cup of hot chocolate.
Itachi’s lips would part, and you’d be certain you caught his dick jerking in his sweats. He’d make you wait until you’re on some other form of birth control. No surprise babies in this house.
Itachi would hold his breath when he pushed his latex free cock into you for the first time. His eyes would squeeze shut, a shaky exhale of your name spilling from his lips as he bottomed out and fucking came. You’d be able to feel the harsh twitching of his dick as he made you look nothing short of a cream filled donut. He’d be so embarrassed, ready to apologize, but he’d stop short at the fucked out look on your face.
The added slick sensation would turn you on like no other, cheeks hot to the touch as you begged him to keep going. He’d stay as hard as a rock, rolling you both until you’re perched in his lap. He’d draw his knees up, tangle his fingers with yours, and encourage you to “Ride me, sweetheart. C’mon, take what you need. I’ll let you use me until your pretty little pussy is sore.”
Itachi doesn’t have to tell you twice.
༝ ᭝ ༝ neji ༝ ᭝ ༝
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
Neji loves having sex with you, but he’d be a bit paranoid.
Neji’s uptight. From the outside, you’d never be able to tell how pussy drunk he gets. He’s a whiny, breathy mess any time his cock’s inside you.
However, he’d also be hyper aware he could get you pregnant if he’s not careful. He wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of having a baby with you, but he wouldn’t be ready for quite some time. He’d wear a condom, no matter how bad he wants your pussy to squeeze him raw. You’d have multiple conversations about it, convincing him to try just putting the tip in.
He’d be….hooked, to say the least. It’d be by sheer force of will that he doesn’t shove his entire cock in your pussy that first time. But, it’d also be the very next time Neji swears “just the tip”, when things spiral.
The warm ache in Neji’s belly would overshadow his concerns. He’d end up knocking your thighs further apart with his knees, bending forward and planting his elbows on either side of your head, leaving just a few centimeters between you. He’d whine, “Baby, I can’t handle this temptation any longer. Please, can I feel your pussy?”
“Fuck, put it in Neji. As long as you pull out it’ll be fine, I promise.” You’d lift your hips to take more of him before he could regret it, and Neji would oblige. Your pussy would hug his cock better than in his dreams, and Neji’s low, broken moan would light your blood on fire.
Neji would straighten up to sit on his knees, grip one of your ankles and haul your leg over his shoulder, allowing the other leg to hang loosely at his hip. He’d bend you in half to deepen the angle, hands resting by your shoulders. Just to tease you both, he’d pull out halfway and push back in at an agonizing pace.
Neji would fuck you within an inch of your life, long hair becoming a curtain that cuts you off from the world. Your nails would scratch angry pink lines down his chest, and his cock would start to throb as he toed the line of release. You’d smack his chest, reminding him with a desperate plea, “Don’t cum inside me! Neji, Neji, baby — you gotta pull out!”
He’d slip his cock free at the last second, letting your body flop to the bed as he stroked his cock. With three quick pumps he’d cum all over your belly.
Safe to say, this would be Neji’s new favorite way to have sex.
༝ ᭝ ༝ sasuke ༝ ᭝ ༝
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
Unlike his brother, Sasuke is impulsive.
He couldn’t deny the thought would cross his mind every now and then, playing with the idea of fucking you raw and seeing his sticky, white cum cover his cock and spill from your pussy.
Usually when he got the urge he’d jerk himself off. Cool fingers would wrap around his warm cock, shivers running down his spine as he stroked himself slowly. He’d cum in a heartbeat.
It would dull the ache of his desire for a while. Hell, he definitely wouldn’t want to have a baby any time in the near future. But soon enough it’d start to eat at him again. His stomach would clench tight every time you’d have sex, nasty dreams forcing him to wake up hard. That’s why, when you beg him to take the condom off, it’s take zero effort to convince him.
Your face would be buried in your pillow, ass in the air, and one hand would fist the sheets. The other would twist behind to smack against Sasuke’s lean lower belly, pushing at him to wait. He’d be too focused, hands pressing your lower back into a harsh arch, sweat trailing down his temple, over his jaw, dripping onto your back.
“Sasuke,” you’d moan, asking for his attention. “Wait, Sasuke — ah fuck!” You’d dig your nails into his belly until he sucked in a sharp breath. “Take the condom off, please!”
His hips would still, pressed flush to your ass. “What?” He’d ask, already be pulling out. “You want me to fuck you raw?” He’d tease. “So spoiled, princess.”
You’d roll onto your back, cheeks heated, chest heaving. “Just fucking take it off,” you’d demand, reaching to grasp the slippery latex and slide it free. Sasuke would smirk, eyes glued to his dick as it bobs once the condom pops off.
Sasuke’s jaw would go slack once you stroked his cock, the skin soft and slick from leftover lube. He’d fucking whimper, a noise he’d never made before, when he pushes all the way in. Sasuke’s thoughts wouldn’t be coherent after that. He’d put your knees to your ears and fuck you until he’s cum twice and you’re squirting onto his pelvis.
He would panic the next day, going dizzy with relief when you inform him you started getting birth control shots.
༝ ᭝ ༝ kakashi ༝ ᭝ ༝
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
Kakashi would be asking you if he could hit it raw.
For your entire relationship, Kakashi would have it known that he’s got a fantasy about giving you a “cream pie”, for lack of a better word. He’d never push you to do something you’re uncomfortable with, no, he’d be more than happy to even role play the act.
There’s no denying that Kakashi would truly want to get you pregnant. He’d love to see your belly round with his baby, but he’d be patient and wait for you to give him the go ahead. However, Kakashi has a loud mouth, and he’d voice his desires at least every other time you have sex.
In the end, the idea would get in your head and become more than appealing to you. When you gave in, it’d be when Kakashi least expected it. It’d be a night when his back is propped up by a couple pillows near your headboard, calloused hands gripping your ass and guiding the slow roll of your hips. Kakashi would be drooling about how well you ride his cock.
Your hands would brace themselves on his pecs, nails digging into his skin, and Kakashi wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. No surprise there. “Babygirl,” he’d moan, eyes rolling towards the ceiling when your pussy clenches tight. “Look so pretty when you ride me, m’gonna cum so hard. You’ll let me knock you up, yeah? Wanna see you swollen with my baby so bad.”
You’d slap your hand over his mouth to stop the stream of filthy words, cheeks blistering. “Kakashi,” you’d say through your teeth, voice pitching higher. “Take off the condom.”
Kakashi’s eyebrows would shoot to his hairline, jaw dropping open as the words he’d been waiting forever to hear sunk in. There’s no way in hell you’d have to repeat yourself. He’d shove you off his lap and onto your back, settling between your spread thighs as he all but ripped off the condom. He’d stroke his cock a couple times before readjusting his weight, taking his time to slide his bare cock back inside you.
Kakashi would whine in back of his throat, pushing your thighs apart until your muscles started to protest. “Kakashi!” You’d gasp, pushing up to your elbows, fisting the sheets as he railed the shit out of you.
“Sorry, can’t — fuck, can’t help myself,” he’d pant, not sounding sorry at all. You’d catch a glimpse of Kakashi’s sharingan whirling and then he’d be cumming before you realized he’s close.
He wouldn’t stop with one round. He’d wring pleasure out of you until your legs turned to jelly. He’d cum again after that, making such a mess that you’d both end up in the shower.
When You’re Doing Everything “Right” and Still Feel Off
Some days are confusing in a very specific way.
You’re functioning.
You got up.
You went to work.
You answered messages.
You did the things you were supposed to do.
And yet… something feels off.
Not a full spiral.
Not a panic attack.
Just that low-grade unease that sits quietly in your chest and refuses to explain itself.
That feeling can be one of the hardest parts of anxiety — because there’s nothing obvious to “fix.”
This doesn’t mean you’re going backwards
One of the biggest lies anxiety tells us is that feeling uncomfortable means we’re failing.
But nervous systems don’t work like checklists.
You can be doing the work,
be self-aware,
be consistent,
be healing…
and still have days where your body is tired, overstimulated, or asking for a pause.
That’s not regression.
That’s being human.
Anxiety doesn’t always show up loudly
Sometimes it looks like tension behind your eyes, a heavy head, irritability for no clear reason, or wanting to be alone but also not wanting to feel lonely.
This is your system saying, “I’ve been holding a lot.”
Not everything needs to be pushed through.
A gentle reframe that helps
Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me today?”
Try asking, “What might my body need less of right now?”
Less pressure.
Less explaining.
Less performing “okay.”
Even five minutes of not trying to fix yourself can change the tone of the whole day.
If you need something grounding right now
I created a short, simple resource for moments exactly like this — when your thoughts aren’t extreme, but your nervous system needs support.
If you want something gentle you can use immediately, you can explore Calm Me Right Now here. It’s designed to help you slow your breathing, settle your body, and interrupt spirals early — especially in those in-between moments when things feel off but not catastrophic.
One last thing
You don’t need to earn rest.
You don’t need a breakdown to justify slowing down.
You don’t need to explain why today feels heavier.
You’re allowed to meet yourself where you are — even on the quiet, uncomfortable days.
You’re not behind.
You’re listening.
And that matters. 💚
Source: When You’re Doing Everything “Right” and Still Feel Off
you hadn’t spoken in weeks. the breakup was messy, emotional. the kind that left a silence in your chest that echoed every time someone said his name. so when the message came, your heart stuttered.
📱 i just want to grab the all might hoodie i left at your place. i don’t want to fight.
you read it and let your thumb hover. but you closed the app without replying. you didn’t mean to be cruel. you just couldn’t do it, not when his voice still haunted your dreams. not when your body still ached in the places he used to touch like he’d worshipped you. you didn’t expect the next text.
📱 don’t leave me on fucking read.
you blinked. 𝓘zuku 𝓜idoriya? cursing? but you stayed quiet and that was the mistake, because twenty minutes later, you heard the knock. a heavy, angry knock. you barely opened the door before he shoved it the rest of the way, slamming it behind him. he was breathing hard, green eyes blown wide, fists clenched at his sides.
“i asked for one thing,” he said, shaking. “one. fucking. thing.”
“deku—”
“no,” he snapped. “you don’t get to call me that. you don’t get to ignore me like i meant nothing.”
“izuku, i didn’t mean—”
“didn’t mean to rip my heart out?” he growled. “didn’t mean to ghost me like a coward?”
you stepped back, but he followed, step for step, until your back hit the hallway wall. he boxed you in with his arms, chest heaving.
“i waited,” he whispered. “i gave you time. i hurt. and you couldn’t even send a single fucking word?”
“izuku, i didn’t know what to say—”
“then shut up,” he snarled. “and let me remind you.”
he kissed you hard, brutal, lips crashing into yours like a man finally done holding back. his hands gripped your waist, dragging you against him. you felt him already hard through his jeans.
“you broke me,” he muttered against your mouth. “now i’m gonna break you.”
you whimpered as he spun you and shoved you against the wall. his hand curled in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat.
“you think i’m still sweet?” he hissed. “think i’ll still beg for your love like some puppy?”
he hiked your leg up, shoved your panties aside, and slid two fingers in deep. you gasped.
“you’re soaked,” he growled. you tried to turn your face away, but he gripped your chin and spat in your mouth. “swallow it,” he said coldly. “that’s all you get until i’m done ruining you.”
he bent you over the hallway table and fucked you so deep and fast you couldn’t even speak. just scream. his hands gripping your hips, your wrists, your throat. his words venomous and ragged in your ear.
“you were mine. you still are.”
thrust
“you think anyone else can fuck you like this?”
thrust
“you gonna ignore me again, baby? huh? gonna read my texts while you’ve still got my cum dripping down your legs?”
he finished inside you with a sharp gasp, pulling you back against his chest as you trembled, legs shaking, the front of your shirt soaked in tears.
he kissed the top of your spine and whispered. “next time you leave me on read… i’m not stopping at fucking. i’m taking you back.”
ft. Mark Hoffman (SAW franchise)
Day 11 - Cum Licking, Handcuffs, Needle Play
Warnings: Nsfw (MDNI), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, afab reader, established relationship (yall are married), canon typical violence / mentions of death (not reader), drugged / kidnapped, needles / injections alluded to, handcuffs and restraints, cum licking (he eats it outta you), unhealthy relationship, mentions of substance abuse and depression
Synopsis: Your husband was never the same since his sister died...but when he appears to be improving five years later, you assumed things were on the up and up. One pig-masked scuffle later, you discover his dark secret.
Word Count: 3192
Mark Hoffman x Fem!Reader (nsfw)
A/N: Officially the longest kinktober to date!!! I love SAW, I love a big boy like Mark Hoffman. Saw 'needle play' as a prompt and immediately thought of this franchise
Your husband was never the same after Angelina died. He’d turned to drinking and was apathetic, depressed, and unreachable. You’d done your best to support and comfort him as he grieved, especially during the grueling court processes against his sister’s killer, Seth Baxter. When Baxter was convicted to a life sentence, you’d naively thought things would go back to normal, that Mark would start to heal. But he didn’t.
Rather, he seemed to spiral even deeper. It was as if he’d lost the ability to feel empathy, now acting disinterested in his work at the police department and, frankly, in your marriage. Things fell into a listless routine. He refused therapy, and wouldn’t talk to you about any of the struggles he was going through.
For almost five years, things went on like this—and yet you didn’t have the heart to leave him. You loved him, and at the same time, he was no longer the man you’d married.
Then disaster struck. Baxter was unexpectedly released from prison due to a legal technicality, and Mark shattered as the justice system failed him. You were sick with worry over him. He was coming home later and later, obsessed with finding the man who’d stolen his sister from him. He wouldn’t answer your calls, wouldn’t tell you where he’d been or what he was doing.
And then, after a month of this confusing, worrisome madness…it stopped. Seth Baxter had been found brutally murdered, and the police department was quick to blame the Jigsaw killer. Yet, the news of this development hadn’t been the thing to send a shiver of dread up your spine—it had been the cold smile on your husband’s face when he delivered the news to you. It’d been the first smile you’d seen him wear in over half a decade.
Gradually, Mark seemed to find renewed fortitude and strength. He was less agitated, taking you on dates again, and beginning to rise on the up and up. It was remarkable, how this sudden change seemed to come over him. Although you wondered what could have happened to bring your detached husband back from the brink of utter ruin, you couldn’t deny that you were glad for it.
He was present once more—and your love life, your sex-life, was vastly improved. God, it was like you were newlyweds all over again, rediscovering one another’s bodies and souls. You wouldn’t say that Mark was the same as before, when you’d first been in love and married long ago. He was jaded now, and at times he seemed to lack any feeling. But at the same time, he was also more assertive, in control, and hard working.
You believed things were better. That he was better.
And that had been your mortal mistake.
-
You unlocked the front door of your house, pushing it open with your foot as you hauled in a grocery bag on your hip. You were home later than you’d said you’d be, but you had to make a quick stop to the store to grab some supplies for dinner.
“Mark? Honey?” you called out, dropping your purse and keys on the entryway table and slipping out of your shoes. You walked down the darkened hall to the kitchen, flicking on the light switch with your elbow. Setting the bag down on the counter, you looked around curiously. No answer.
“Mark?” you called again, confused and a little unsettled. He should’ve been home already and waiting for you…and yet, all the lights were off. You held your breath for a moment, listening for any sound that might indicate your husband was in the house.
A beat of silence, another one…and then suddenly, the tv clicked on in the adjacent living room, and you jumped out of your skin at the loud garble of static. You whirled around with a yelp of fear, eyes wide as they stared one room over. The living room furniture was cast in frightening shadows by the light of the salt and pepper screen.
“Honey, are you there…?” you forced your voice to croak out, a deep pit of dread beginning to settle in your stomach. You weren’t sure why you were so scared. Perhaps all that talk of the Jigsaw killer running loose in the city had finally gotten under your skin. Slowly, you stepped over the threshold that separated the rooms, your socks pushing into the plush of the carpet as you approached the tv.
You stared at the screen and swallowed, transfixed by the scratchy sound of static and dancing dots of black and white. Your heart hammering in your throat, you leaned forward to press your fingertip to the power button…and with a small click, the screen went black.
The room plunged into a deathly quiet, the small light from the kitchen being the only thing that kept the darkness at bay. You shuddered out a small sigh, trying to force your sympathetic nervous system back into a state of calm.
You straightened your back, rising once again to your full height. You told yourself your mind was playing tricks on you, turning from the tv to head back into the kitchen…and screamed as you came face to face with a grotesque creature of black hair and tusked snout.
You were caught off guard as the boorish, boar-ish intruder grabbed you with painful strength, pulling your arm so far to the side you thought it might snap out of place. You cried out, struggling against its brute strength, when suddenly you felt its balled fist slam into the side of your neck. The impact had you seeing stars, and then—fuck something sharp had pierced into the muscles there and…
You felt dizzy, something like cold water flooding your veins, trickling down to your arms and torso. You mind still raced with terror, but your body grew impossibly heavy. Your tongue wouldn’t cooperate, for only a small moan escaped you as you tried to cry out. Black spots crept into the edges of your vision, and then…you saw only black.
It felt like only a blink of an eye before your consciousness was returning, groggy and confused. You were first aware of the sound of dripping water and the dull thrum of an HVAC system whirring. Your eyelids were too heavy to lift, so you fluttered them until whatever drug wore off enough for you to blink them open.
As you did so, you watched the blurry world gradually come into focus. A bright, light…an unshaded lamp in the corner. Old, dusty machinery, half covered in old drapes and white tarps. A metal desk with papers askew on it. A rolling cart with various needles, tools, and labeled vials. Lab coats hanging on the wall. Ropes and hooked chains hanging from the ceiling beams….and some dark brown, rusty colored stains littering the floor in various places.
Good god, what hell hole had you awakened to? You felt your limbs gradually return to you, an aching soreness beginning to settle in your joints. You tried to move your hands…but they were forced behind you. Handcuffs, you guessed, if inspecting your husband’s pair over the years had any help in identifying your current restraints.
Your feet were untied, and you were free to kick and swing them…but the chair you sat in was bolted to the ground. Unless your hands were freed, you wouldn’t be able to stand.
Your head swiveled at breakneck speed towards the sudden metallic clanging of a door opening. Eyes wide, blood running cold, you watched the hulking figure of a man step into the room. Relief flooded your system at the sight of your husband. “Mark!” you choked out, your voice hoarse from disuse. How long had you been out?
But, one look at his dark expression and your relief was doused by a bucket of ice water. “W-What’s going on?” you whispered, horror beginning to dawn on you.
Mark walked up to you, his lips a thin line as he smiled at you, his eyes painfully devoid of any warmth. He stopped just in front of you, and bent at the waist so he could meet your eyes. He raised one large, calloused hand to cup your cheek, and shushed you quietly.
“Easy now, honey,” he cooed with mock reassurance. “Drug’s still leaving your system, so try not to whip your head around like that. You’ll get sick.” He dropped his hand to his side, and rose to his full height. His eyes raked over you, a satisfied look settling over his expression at seeing you restrained like this, at his mercy.
You’d been blind and naïve, faithfully believing that your husband was incapable of anything so heinous or cruel. But there’d been signs. His increased apathy and sociopathic tendencies. His deep decline into alcoholism and depression, and his obsession with Seth Baxter. All those late nights he didn’t come home until the early morning, and his sudden recovery and renewed vitality. God, how hadn’t you suspected anything before?
“It was you, wasn’t it?” your voice was weak with shock and terror. “You killed Baxter…” you stared at him, horror swelling in your throat when Mark didn’t so much as blink at the accusation. There was a cold expression on his familiar face…lethal and foreign. Dear god…you didn’t know your husband at all, did you? No…not since Angelina died.
“You’ve been a wonderful, dutiful wife,” Mark answered instead, rubbing a hand along his jaw as he surveyed you. His eyes lingered on the heaving of your breasts, your breathing uneven and short. “You’ve been loyal, devoted…even though you really should have left me years ago. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. I was a sorry fool, waiting for justice, believing in our judicial system, damning the universe for being unfair.”
He shook his head, and lifted his hand to gently grip your chin so your eyes met his. “But I’ve been enlightened, dearest. I am the hand of justice. It cannot be debated or deliberated upon…only delivered.”
His eyes searched your face, taking in the slight tremble to your bottom lip, the small droplets pricking at your vision. He thumbed your cheek, smearing a tear as it escaped the corner of your eye. “Shh, shh,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’ve done nothing wrong, my dear.” His tone was a mockery of the tender love he’d once shared with you. Now there was only hunger, only the need for control and dominion, which hardened his voice.
“I’m giving you a gift…an opportunity to join our mission, to stand with me once again as husband and wife—not only in title, but in spirit.” He sounded crazy to your ears, unhinged and so unlike the Mark you knew. If you weren’t so hyped up on adrenaline and the lasting effects of whatever drug had been injected to you, you might’ve caught that elusive ‘our’ he’d used.
“M-Mark,” you whimpered his name. Despite the betrayal, the horror, the disillusionment…you couldn’t find it within your heart to hate him. Five years you’d stuck by his side in life’s worst moments. Five years you’d preserved this marriage, waiting for him to reach out…to come back to you. Five years of waiting, of hoping, of praying for the love and connection you’d once shared to return…
And in his own perverted way…that’s what he was offering to you.
You still loved him, despite everything. God, how could you not? It was your husband. Your Mark.
He searched your face, and he must’ve found something there, because his expression shifted His eyes grew more intense and heated, his thin lips curving up into a mockery of a smile. “There’s my girl,” he whispered, and before you could react, he was lifting your chin and pressing a bruising kiss to your lips.
You whimpered into the forced kiss, you body instantly reacting. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you opened your mouth for him obediently as he demanded entrance. He groaned into your mouth, and the sound send an instant heat between your legs. Fuck, what were you doing? This whole situation was beyond fucked up, and yet your body was so conditioned to him, that he could turn you on with just one world-shattering kiss.
He kissed you with more force than he’d had before, a new, dark hunger overcoming him as he ravaged your mouth, his hands roaming over you as if this was the first time he’d ever touched you. It was as if two strangers were clashing together in a passionate tango, rather than the weathered and intimate lovers of a long-standing marriage.
“I knew you would understand,” he panted out against your lips, eagerly making deft work of your pants. You whined against him as he ripped your jeans down to your ankles before tossing them to the side. Your wrists ached and stung where the metal handcuffs bit into them, and you longed suddenly to have them free…not so you could make an escape, but so you could bury them into your husband’s hair.
The cool metal of the chair pressed against the bare skin of your ass, and you gasped at the sensation. Mark hummed against you, trailing kisses down from your lips and to your neck, where he grazed his teeth against the flushed skin there. “You’re the only good thing in this world,” he grunted, one fist groping your breast, the other working at his zipper. “Even at my worst, you’ve been by my side… You didn’t ask where I went. You didn’t ask why I came home smelling like bleach, or cleaning chemicals. You just… stayed. That kind of faith? People kill for less.”
You felt the head of him prod at your entrance, and your hips bucked instinctively. The motion tugged at your wrists, and you whined at the sting. He kissed along your neck consolingly. “Shh, I’ll take care of you,” he promised darkly, sucking on your flesh as his hips slowly sank into you.
You let out a long, strained cry as he stretched you—his cock far thicker than most men’s. Although you’ve laid in your shared bed and taken him more times than you could count, something about this moment felt new and erotic. This was a claim, a promise, a shared heartbeat.
It was the renewal of vows.
Mark lifted your knees up to your ears, folding you in half so you were presented to him in the most vulnerable and explicit way possible. He sucked a breath in through his teeth as he directed his gaze down, watching, transfixed, where you connected. He hissed lowly as he watched himself pull out, and then sink back into you.
Your body was uncomfortably contorted, hands cuffed behind you, legs pressed in half and exposed. You were twisted about like a pretzel, and though the metal cut into your wrists and your hamstrings were already getting sore, you could only focus on the heightened pleasure at the apex of your legs.
Mark began to rut into you, taking you hard and rough, punctuating each thrust with the roll of his hips. Gone was the tender husband who would make love to you under the blanket of night. All that remained in the man who bore your wedding ring was a cold-blooded brute, who now fucked you like he could brand you with his cock… He knew you would let him.
You cried out as he pounded mercilessly into you, each motion pressing deeper and deeper as he dragged across your g-spot. In this position, he could reach so deep into you that you felt it in your stomach, pressing against your insides. Your thoughts escaped you as you fell into a one-track mind—carnal and lust-driven.
You forgot about the dirty warehouse, you forgot about the handcuffs, you forgot about the revelation of your husband’s double life, and of the lives he must have taken…because right now, all you could think about was that he was yours again.
He fucked into you violently, balls slapping against your ass with each punishing thrust. Then, he was groaning, cumming into you while his fingers bruised into the plush meat of your thighs. Your face contorted into a strained expression as you tried to wiggle your hips, needing more friction. You still hadn’t cum, and you didn’t want this entrancing moment between you to be over.
He leaned his forehead against your shoulder as he panted, chuckling darkly at your body’s evident neediness. “Did I forget something?” he taunted, and the humiliation you felt at his words had your practically dripping over his still throbbing cock.
You whined as he slowly withdrew, your legs starting to lower back down.
“No,” he scolded, fixing you with a firm glare. “You’re going to keep those legs up for me.” You watched as he withdrew a key from his pocket, and within a couple of seconds, the handcuffs that restrained your hands unlocked with a click. You took a moment to observe the red welts around your wrists, wincing slightly at the raw skin.
But before you could feel too concerned, your husband was patting your ass. “Legs up,” he commanded lowly, and you felt the strong urge to please him. You hooked your arms around your knees and lifted them up, watching with wonder as Mark lowered himself down to a kneeling position. His face was now inches from your overflowing pussy, and you blushed at the pornographic picture of him.
“M-Mark, what are you—” you managed to squeak out before you gasped, feeling him latch onto you his mouth, swirling his tongue over you and groaning at the taste. He licked along your messy folds, cleaning you of his own finish in one of the most vulgar acts you’ve ever witnessed. The sight alone had you clenching around nothing, only serving to squeeze out more of his cum for him to lap up and savor on his tongue.
He ate you out like a man starved, drunk on the taste of your mixed fluids as you presented yourself to him on a silver platter. Your breathing deepened, and your legs began to shake. You gasped as his face buried into you, taking you higher and higher until you tipped over the peak. You cried out, tears flowing freely from your eyes as you came all over his tongue, writhing as he enthusiastically drank all of you in. His throat bobbed as he swallowed everything you gave him, until your legs fell limp onto his shoulders, your body spent and twitching.
He licked his lips, a satisfied sigh escaping him, before he gently lowered your legs back to a sitting position. Rising from where he knelt, he craned his neck to kiss you dizzy—to swipe away your tears, and murmur sweet and wicked devotions into your hair.
With the tiniest sliver of remaining clarity, your numb mind reaffirmed the fact you’d known for years—your husband would never be the same man he was before his sister died…but in someways, maybe he was better.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
The homicide detective spoke clearly, his tone cold and detached, as he had seen these things countless times. It’s freezing outside, the bitterly cold wind blows harshly, pushing the rain to come down harder.
“I know. I had to say goodbye.”
Her voice comes out shaky. Dean, a long-time friend, caught up in a series of bad drug habits, landed in Jigsaw’s hands. He struggled a lot and brought many people down with him. Despite your push to do better, dropping him off at rehab clinics, letting him couch surf countless times, and many broken promises on his end, he chose drugs every time. He chose to die.
“Get inside. You’ll get sick, and I don’t want to catch whatever you get.”
She scoffs, but follows the detective regardless. Detective Lieutenant Mark Hoffman, cold and calloused, was so crass about the situation despite working with a friend of a lost soul. He didn’t care, and she could feel that from a mile away. The police car provided shelter, and the clicks of the dial shot heat into the car.
“Why did you become a detective? You should have been a grief counselor.”
She can’t help the bitterness that leaves her lips. She needed to mourn, and he was being a complete asshole. Surprisingly, it gets a snicker out of him- like he found her sarcastic bitterness to be amusing.
“You think so? I must have missed my calling.”
“I believe in justice-”
She cuts him off. Fuck that generic answer.
“No. Don’t feed me that bullshit. Justice, caring for the people, getting perps off the street- anyone with more than 2 braincells and a heart can see that isn’t the reason, at least not anymore.”
“Don’t interrupt me.”
He practically growls. Those blue eyes look sharp with anger, something dangerous bubbling underneath. He continues.
“Fine. Real answer. I always wanted to be a detective. Control- protect- and use my mind.”
She sits in silence. She lets him speak his mind.
“My sister was murdered several years ago. Her abuser got justice. My job is to ensure the same for others.”
She sighs in a breath of relief. He is human. He’s just as scarred as her.
“Sorry. That’s terrible- your sister must have meant a lot to you.”
“The world.”
He states plainly. The rain pattering hard against the windshield fills the silence between them.
