where they would cum — naruto boys
features: naruto, itachi, madara, kakashi, tenzou, hashirama, tobirama, kiba, shikamaru, konohamaru, asuma, deidara, jiraiya, and genma
minor notes: these drabbles include a female reader who exists in the village of konoha as a shinobi and no uchiha massacre has taken place!
naruto — there's something dangerous, nearly feral, about the way he looks down at you when he leans over your body. its like kurama breaks free and takes over the ninja, like the whiskers on his face darken to black, his eyes glowing red and bright and ferocious— and it thrills you. utterly, and completely thrills you. naruto smirks, and in any other moment you might have been embarrassed about the fact that you both know then and there that he can smell your arousal. but you're too far gone to care. it's all you can do to hold on, clawing at his broad back, clutching your legs around his hips as you ride through the pleasure of his cock against your insides. he pulls out at the last moment, the way your fingers wind together as both of your hands work furiously over his cock, and the sinful moan that spills from his lips as he comes is almost enough to send you headlong into another orgasm. his cum splatters over your belly, icy hot and plentiful, and you expect him to collapse on top of you, caging you beneath his firm body and holding you there, as he usually does, but this time his holds his ground. his hands are at your belly, fingers moving through his spend as he works it into your skin, spreading it across the softness he loves to kiss, as though marking you with his scent, marking you as his. he growls, nearly purrs, and as you meet his feral red eyes, you both know kurama is pleased.
itachi — he loves the way you can quiet his mind, send the swirling storm of thoughts into quiet symbiosis, cooing the firestorm. you take him in his arms, make him feel protected, instead of what is usually the other way around. it's intoxicating, to be around you. when he makes love to you, when he wraps his arms around you, and your legs wind around him, he loves how you pull him down until he's chest to chest with you, like he can become one with you completely. you'll try for a child soon, he knows. but for now he contents himself with pulling out of you just enough to release on your stomach, to feel the warmth of your skin on his most sensitive part, to run his fingers through the liquid and it excites him to no end to picture little uchiha's running around the compound.
yamato — there's something about the way you look, flushed, breathless, dripping with sweat, that overcomes him, makes him feel half wild as he looks down at you. he can't tear himself away from you, not even for a moment, and has been late for many a meeting because of this weakness, much to kakashi's delight and his chagrin. but every once in a while, when he feels particularly wound up, pent up, that he indulges his secret sin. he pulls out of you as he feels his orgasm bridging, a frisson of pleasure building at the base of his spine and rolling through him like a jolt of lightning, and rolls over to the side. your eyes are half lidded as you look up at him, confusion bridging into understanding as you recognize the familiar pose. even without asking you roll into a sitting position, as though reading his mind, and kami he loves you so much, even in the throes of passion and pleasure he drops a hand to your cheek to stroke it lovingly. he works his cock quickly as you push your breasts together, flinching slightly as your fingers pinch your nipple, still sensitive from the force of your orgasm, and the breathy little moan you let out is enough to send him over the edge. his cum sinks onto your skin, slipping down your breasts and onto your stomach, a fist of prideful pleasure tightening in his belly. kami he just loves you so much.
konohamaru — somehow, he knows, just knows, that this is all naruto's fault. he blames the hokage for having made his introduction into the world of sex be all bare breasts and long legged, until the memories of his sexy jutsu captivating his adolescent. even as an adult konohamaru has the same weakness, and the day he had met you he knew all at once that you checked all his boxes in perfect harmony. and when he's leaning over you, his spend dotted across your perfect chest like spilled pearls, your face flushed and eyes half lidded from the throes of pleasure, the aftershocks of your orgasm still trembling through you, he can't quite but thank the gods for naruto.
deidara — its a work of art on its own, the way your eyes look as you gaze up at him. the way your lips are swollen and half parted, wet by the tongue that drags across them seductively enough to make him dive back down into your arms. but there's nothing more beautiful than the way you look on your knees, his cock kissed against your lips, his spend streaked across your face like oil paint on a canvas. he smirks, near feral, and just the sight is enough to make him half hard again. he never feels more pleasure at the notion that art truly is an explosion.
shikamaru — he let out a long, sated sigh, breathing out a curl of smoke and thinking about the fact that he had never been this happy. your fingers clawed at the skin of his naked chest, nails dragging across his nipple in a way that made him flinch and his hips stutter, pleasure-pain rushing through his chest as he moaned. your fingers wound absently around the fabric of the yukata you had hastily pushed down around his waist, leaving his ass bare and ready to be fondled by you as you guided the thrust of his hips. your mouth was so hot, so wet and warm, that he wished he could live in it. not that he spent much time free from the tangle of your limbs, with the amount of time you spent fucking, the honeymoon period having never ended after your marriage three years prior. he gasped out a moan, leaning forward in his zaisu, and winding a hand through your beautiful hair, warning you silently that he was about to reach his peak. his cum marked your face, spilling across your cheeks, your lips, your chin, and you looked so beautiful he couldn't resist kissing you, his tongue entering your mouth, his hand cupping your bare breast, both of you already knowing he wasn't going to be going anywhere for the next hour.
kiba — it's his animal instincts. it must be. it makes him feel wild, ferocious to see you like this, on your hands and knees, your hair messy as its tossed over your shoulders, your back bowed to tilt your hips up towards his. your skin is glistening with a mix of heady sweat and saliva, because he just can't stop himself from licking you, tasting you, mapping every inch of your body with his tongue. your thighs are parted, wet for the same reasons, and he longs to taste you again, to bury himself between your legs and eat and eat and eat until the neverending starvation in his belly is sated. but he can't, not yet, not now. his cock feels fit to burst, and he can't stand being parted from you for a second longer, pushing back into you until his hips are flush to your ass, and kami you feel so fucking good, he can't stop the growl that leeches from this lips. he comes quickly, pulling out with rabid ferocity and spilling over the curves of your perfect ass, unable to resist biting into it and leaving another bite mark among the sea of half healed ones.
tobirama — his brother had told him it would be like this one day, like him and mito, had told him that one day he would know what it meant to be completely consumed by another. but before you, tobirama had though his brother a fool. even worse, a god of shinobi, brought to heel by something so simple as love. but from the very first moment he had come across you, had taken your hand to shake and seen the way your lips arched into a smile, he realized he was a fool too. it's like heaven and hell, like sweet escape and even sweeter torture, to be with you, to be apart from you, even for just the moment it takes to pull out of your sweet warmth. but there's something wicked about the way you look covered in his spend, the way your ass reddens from the slap of his hips, the way your sweat speckled skin looks glistens like diamonds. kami, he truly is a fool, but much like his brother, there's no place he'd rather be than in your arms.
jiraiya — the toad sage can't help but be mesmerized by everything about you. the way your hair drapes around your shoulders, the mastery of your genjutsu, the way your eyes shine in the moonlight, the softness of your skin, the brightness of your smile. but fuck, if one of the most impressive things about you wasn't the way your pussy sucked him in. you're both sexual beings, he knows that. knows that you've had other lovers before him, but he couldn't tell— not from the way your pussy sucked him in like a tight-fist, like a virgin. it was near agony to pull out, to not cum in you like jiraiya so obviously enjoyed, but during times like this, when the cleanup was too messy, or you two had stolen the time for a quickie, when he forced himself to pull out as he came, splattering your skin with drops of cum that nearly sizzled your beautiful skin. you moaned, looking so beautiful covered in his spend that he couldn't help but seize your lips in a messy kiss, sighing in pleasure as he began to mentally draft the next volume of icha icha.
genma — he was a pervert. he knew it, you knew it. half of konoha knew it. he kissed you like a fiend, all tongue and teeth and exchanged spit, addicted to the way your body felt beneath his, all soft curves to his hard edges. your hand fisted in his loose hair, tilting his head down towards you, so you could kiss even more deeply, practically consuming each other. your legs were wrapped around his naked hips, his favorite belt, and he thrust into you with abandon, unable to resist the wet heat of your pussy, still fluttering around him after your orgasm. he was gonna cum soon, he knew from the reckless thrust of his hips and the fist of pleasure forming below his stomach and there wasn't enough time to properly make love to you since you were both supposed to report to the hokage in five minutes. genma pulled out begrudgingly, cum spilling across the lips of your pussy instead of inside you as he longed to do. he admired his handiwork, breathless and feeling lose from release of pleasure, and couldn't help but run his fingers through the spend, dragging it across your skin like he was painting. yeah maybe he was a pervert, but he loved it, and you loved it— and at the end of the day that was all he cared about. you
asuma — he's addicted to you, he thinks. utterly and completely addicted. he's never been dependent on anything in his life, not even his cigarettes, not the way he is to you. he wishes he could retire, could spend all day every day in your arms, in bed with you, cooking with you, eating with you, showing with you, sleeping with you. it's heaven, or the closest he's ever come, and the sole reason is you. he fucks you languidly, relishing in every part of you, the clench of your pussy, the bounce of your unbound breasts, the salty wetness of sweat on your skin he draws up with his tongue. asuma pulls out begrudgingly, desperate to chase the tightness, the heat of your insides, but the tiny thread of reason he clung to was telling him otherwise. instead he takes himself in hand, swinging a leg over your body to perch on your stomach, his cock brushing the plush suppleness of your lips. he cums across your perfect mouth, moaning too loudly when he sees the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips, and he could almost cum again just as the sight. asuma collapses beside you in the bed you share, pulling you into his strong arms and kissing you deeply. he wants to breed you, to get you full and pregnant and fill your house with little asumas, but for now this was enough.
kakashi — your eyes, he thinks. it's the way your eyes seem to pin him in place as you look up at him. he has more than enough experience with the look of fear on an enemies face when his eyes are upon them, and he thinks he must have much the same look on his as he meets your gaze. you've raised yourself up on the legs folded beneath you, one hand lazily stroking his bare thigh, your nails digging just firmly enough into his skin to cause a frisson of pain to rush up his spine, the other hand on his cock, doing things to him that he can only describe as sinful. your lips are swollen and reddened from the length of your lovemaking, your tongue dragging down his cock and paying special attention to his head. he gasps out a moan, the sound like it was dragged from the depths of his belly. his hips jerk forward as he comes, automatically seeking the warmth and comfort of your touch. he comes like a blast of raikiri, barely having the energy to do more than fall to his knees before you. he weakly opens his eyes, and nearly goes mute. his spend is on your tongue, your lips, the corner of your mouth, and the way you look drinking it down is utterly sinful.
madara — there was no better place for madara than between your thighs, not the battlefield, not the winners circle. no, he'd give it all up just to stay pillowed between your legs. just as your happiness elevated his, your pleasure heightened his. when his hands push apart your thighs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him down flush against you. it's as though the gods had made his body just for yours, the way your hips fit into the cradle of his, the way his thighs made the perfect hook for your legs, the mold of your lips against mouth. kami, it was a miracle. he hates to leave you, even more to pull out of you, not when you're so hot, so tight, so wet against him. to feel himself spend inside of you, awash with pleasure and contentment, is the most powerful feeling in the world.
hashirama — there was nothing in the world hashirama loved more in the world than the way you felt in his arms. the way your bodies moved in unison as he made love to you, when your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, your body twitching in his arms as pleasure ran through you, the way your breath mingled as you kissed and kissed and kissed. your pleasure was as important to him as his own, as it was his highest order of duty to provide for you in every way. and the best part, the highest honor and highest pleasure, was to come with you. to feel you clench around his cock, tight as a fist and so utterly warm that hashirama was sure you could melt him more than you already had, and the feeling of your body sinking fully into pleasure, tight as a coil as you both achieved orgasm at the same time was the highest accomplishment of his life.
