headcanons .ᐟ ⸝⸝ mentions of rutting ⸝⸝ fluffy smut ⸝⸝ petnames ⸝⸝ mdni 18+ ⸝⸝ art by @hunnismokah
puppyboy!naruto uzumaki who loves nothing more than your fingers scratching behind his ears. he’ll plop his head in your lap the second he’s home, big blonde and fuzzy ears twitching happily as he demands at least 30 minutes of full undivided attention before he’ll even think of settling down. if you miss a day and he gets all pouty and restless.
puppyboy!naruto uzumaki who has a tail that completely betrays him. it’s wagging like crazy in every direction when he’s excited, stiff and still when he’s on alert, and floppy and low when he’s upset. you’ve gotten crazy good at reading him because of it—to the point where you know how he’s feeling before he even opens his mouth.
puppyboy!naruto uzumaki who struggles hard to keep himself in check during his rut phases. he gets super clingy, refusing to let you out of his arms for long, and you’ll sometimes catch him face-down in your pillows, hips rolling desperately against them while he tries (and fails) to get rid of the ache.
puppyboy!naruto uzumaki who is full-on obsessed with sniffing you. yes, total dog mode sniffing. when he’s been away for a while he’ll immediately bury his face in your neck, your hair, or wherever your scent is strongest and just stay there breathing you in.
puppyboy!naruto uzumaki who gets bitey during sex. he never hurts you badly, but sometimes when he’s really into it those sharp canines will sink into your neck or shoulder just hard enough to draw a little blood, and he loves how you clench around him every time he does it.
puppyboy!naruto uzumaki who usually hates when people touch his tail but makes a special exception for you. he’ll let you play with it, stroke it, or even use it as a pillow when you’re cuddling in bed.
puppyboy!naruto uzumaki who is stupidly affectionate in public. pda is his norm—tail loosely curled around your thigh, arm slung around your shoulders, random hugs and kisses whenever the mood strikes him. he genuinely just doesn’t care.
puppyboy!naruto uzumaki who will spar for hours, come home sweaty and exhausted, then immediately collapse onto your bed. you can try dragging him to the shower but he’ll just mumble something sleepy and incoherent before passing out.
Contents: Who would've thought your gentle, loving Sasuke would loose control with the mere suggestion of restoring his clan?
more Sasuke content here
Event M.List
WARNINGS: MATING PRESS, WIFE READER AND HUSBAND SASUKE, BREEDING KINK, TALKS OF PREGNANCY AND CHILDREN, POSSESSIVE!!!
For one as brutal as the self proclaimed avenger, he is surprisingly gentle when it comes to you.
Sasuke doesn’t think, and neither do you, that he possesses the capacity to be anything less than worshipful and reverent towards you. It’s practically ingrained within his being that he has to be careful when handling you. You’re not some hardened ninja capable of withstanding the worst of his touches and the roughest of his handlings, you’re his delicate flower of a wife who needs a lot more patience and coddling than everybody else in the village. And it turns, this translates to being excruciatingly careful and tender during sex. Sessions that last hours until cumming feels more like a chore than a reward. Sasuke holding you tight while doing missionary.
That was, until that day.
“You once told me that one of the purposes of our marriage was to restore your clan,” You say absentmindedly while serving him tea, and his eye widens. “You decided on a date already? Around this time of the month is my fertile window. Speaking of which! Did you know Ino just go—” He isn’t listening in that moment, his gaze solely focused on the cup of tea you just served him, and then your tummy. He can already see you pregnant, beautiful and glowing and utterly his. He doesn’t think of himself as very fatherly, but does he see you as a mother. How many children does he want? As much as he can, as much as you can handle. And even then, he’ll make sure to hire a sitter if that’s what's required for him to have at least five.
So at night, very kindly taking your fertile window comment as a suggestion. Sasuke sprawls you over the bed. Making sure to get you ready for what’s to come. His hand makes sure to keep your legs spread to accommodate his greedy mouth, aching for a taste of you. Tongue that circles and flicks your clit with the position only a man of his caliber has. Your eyes roll back as he rips out of you the third orgasm of the night.
“W-What’s with you?” You say, out of breath. And he stops his ministrations to look up at you.
“I need to get you pregnant.” Your eyes widen, mouth agape.
“What?”
“Are you being purposefully dense? I need to breed you, ___.” He growls, manhandling you in a fit of rage. His eyes flicker with both lust and need, folding you like a fucking pretzel under his weight and strenght. You gasp, tits squeezing together as your legs almost touch your ears. And he doesn’t waste time, no condom, no lube, no nothing. Raw, with only your slick and his pre mixing together inside you. You throw your head back as he starts to thrust, the mating press making him reach deeper and deeper with every passing moment. You gasp for air, but he doesn't allow you a moment of respite, his movements frenzied, a man possessed, nothing like your gentle, loving Sasuke, he was an entirely different beast in that moment. “I’m going to fill you with cum. I’m going to fuck you stupid. Until all you can think is of me and my cock and the child we are raising together,” He snarls. “And I’ll do it today, and tomorrow, and the day after until you’re pregnant. And I’ll do it again after that, every single fucking year. You’ll carry all of them, you’ll be the mother of my children,” His pace falters when he says that, voice cracking so prettily. “And you’ll like it.”
“when the moon dared to touch the flame, the world burned and bloomed all at once.”
series by jasmmwriting
madara uchiha x hyūga!reader
genre ✧˖° slow burn • arranged marriage • angst • healing • historical
status ✧˖° finished
𓂃 summary 𓂃
In the dawn of konoha, peace is fragile and built on blood. to seal an alliance between the hyūga and uchiha clans, y/n hyūga, the heir and head of konoha’s medical division, is forced into an arranged marriage with madara uchiha, the man whose clan murdered her mother. bound by duty, they live as strangers in the same home: the healer and the warrior, the moon and the flame. but love, like fire, does not stay still for long.
𓂃 chapters 𓂃
✦ chapter i (10/11/25)
✦ chapter ii (10/11/25)
✦ chapter iii (10/11/25)
✦ chapter iv (12/11/25)
✦ chapter v (14/11/25)
✦ chapter vi (16/11/25)
✦ chapter vii (18/11/25)
✦ chapter viii (22/11/25)
✦ chapter ix (26/11/25)
✦ chapter x (05/12/25)
✦ chapter xi (27/12/25)
✦ chapter xii (31/12/25)
✦ chapter xiii (20/01/25)
✦ epilogue
𓂃 extras 𓂃
✦ the moon and the flame: playlist
✦ visuals / inspo board
𓂃 notes 𓂃
This story is close to my heart, i started it after coming back to writing, and it carries a piece of that warm and nostalgia of the girl I used to be. Thank you for reading, sharing, or simply stopping by ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
summary: the lights of Konoha glowed soft and golden against the dark, as if the village, too, was holding its breath. Two years had passed since the war ended, since peace settled like dust in the cracks of old wounds—and yet, something within him remained restless. You had been at his side through it all, patient and bright, always reaching with hands he wasn’t sure he deserved. And tonight, under a sky laced with stars and smoke, something long buried stirred quietly awake. Not with urgency. But with intention. And it would be your touch—steady, warm, unshaken—that would teach Naruto Uzumaki how to want, how to feel, and how to be loved for the first time.
pairing: naruto x female reader
genre: smut (with plot)
word count: 11,4k
warnings: explicit sexual content, first time (Naruto), soft smut, soft!dom reader, emotional intimacy, heavy romantic tension, detailed sensuality, mutual consent, aftercare, canon divergence (post-war AU), alcohol mention (light), suggestive themes, mild language, no warning but Jiraiya is alive in this timeline!
The path up to the compound was lined with paper lanterns, their warm glow pulsing softly in the breeze like fire trapped in silk. The night had settled in deep—thick with cicada hum and the murmur of distant laughter—but the air still carried the heat of the day, clinging faintly to his skin beneath his jacket. Naruto walked beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders just brushing yours as you moved together through the dark. You hadn’t said much on the way here. You didn’t need to. That was something he’d come to love about being with you—how quiet didn’t feel like absence. Just space to breathe.
Still, there were things he hadn't said. Things that pressed under his tongue like too much salt.
He glanced sideways, catching the way your hair moved in the wind, the soft edge of your profile lit briefly by a drifting lantern. You were nervous—he could feel it in the way you tapped your thumb against your thigh, barely noticeable. But more than that, he could feel how aware you were of him. Like every inch between your bodies was being measured, judged, waited on.
Maybe that was what made his stomach twist. That sense of waiting. As if you were holding the door open for him, and he just… couldn’t step through.
He should’ve. You were his. You chose him—every morning when you made tea, every night when you leaned against him on the couch, every smile that lingered a little too long. But knowing that didn’t make it easier.
Naruto didn’t have the kind of past that let him understand softness. Not the slow kind. Not the kind that meant touch me like this because I trust you to not break me. He’d fought for everything—shouted for it, bled for it, clawed his way into it. But intimacy didn’t listen to battle cries. It asked for silence. For courage of a different kind.
And you… you had loved before. You had lived before. With other people, in other beds, behind doors he couldn’t open. He didn’t resent that. Not really. But it haunted him in strange ways. Made his hands hesitate. Made him second guess every time you leaned in, every time you looked at him like he could be more than a good man. Like he could be yours. He didn’t want to disappoint you. He didn’t want to try and come up short.
So instead, he smiled. He always smiled.
“Looks like we’re late,” he said, scratching the back of his head as the compound came into view—lights strung across trees and wooden beams, voices rising in half-drunken rhythm. “Bet Choji’s already gone through the first two trays.” You smiled at that. “I’m more worried about Kiba challenging someone to a drinking contest again.” He snorted. “Only person dumber than him in that regard is me.”
You didn’t deny it. Just reached for his wrist, your fingers brushing skin, and gently tugged him toward the open gate.
The warmth hit him like a wave—music, motion, firelight, the smell of grilled skewers and something sweet and fried. Familiar faces turned toward you both. Sakura was the first to reach you, her pink hair caught in a delicate braid, loose strands framing her face.
“There you are,” she said, lifting a sake cup. “I thought maybe you bailed.” Naruto grinned. “What? Me? Never!” “Mmhm.” She eyed you with a soft smile. “You look nice. I love that color on you.” You thanked her, as Sakura turned back toward the cluster of friends near the low tables. “Grab something to drink before Shikamaru finishes all the good stuff.”
Naruto nodded, watching her disappear into the crowd. His hand hovered near yours again. Still not quite holding.
The music shifted—something brighter now, plucked strings layered with low percussion—and the crowd pulsed around them like a tide. Naruto’s hand dropped back to his side, knuckles brushing the edge of your sleeve, and he exhaled slowly, letting the sound disappear into the clamor. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. The space between you still hummed with that unspoken tension, warm and quiet, like a promise waiting for the right moment to take shape.
“Yo,” a voice called—lazy, familiar.
Naruto turned just in time to see Shikamaru approaching, hands stuffed in his pockets, a half-finished dango stick hanging from his mouth. His hair was slightly undone, his vest unzipped halfway like he hadn’t bothered finishing the thought. “Didn’t think you’d actually show,” Shikamaru said around the stick, then pulled it free and tossed it into a nearby bin. “I owe Ino 500 ryō.” Naruto scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Shikamaru shrugged. “Just figured you’d bail for some last-minute hero stuff. Or oversleep. Same difference.”
You hid a smile behind your glass.
“I was on time,” Naruto said, puffing his chest slightly. “We just walked.” “To build dramatic tension?” Shikamaru offered, deadpan.
“Exactly.”
Shikamaru’s gaze drifted to you for a moment, and whatever joke he was about to make softened. “You look good,” he said, voice lower now, not flirting—just sincere.
You thanked him, and he gave a little nod before glancing at Naruto again. “You should dance with her before Lee gets to her first.” “Before what?” Naruto asked—but it was too late.
“SPRINGTIME OF CELEBRATION!” came the bellow, and Rock Lee bounded into view, cheeks already ruddy from whatever concoction he’d been drinking. His arms were wide open like he was about to hug the entire night itself. Naruto winced. “My youthful comrades!” Lee cried. “You’ve made it! Truly, this night shall echo through the valleys of time!” He seized Naruto’s forearm in a bone-rattling grip, shaking it with far too much enthusiasm. “We just got here,” Naruto managed, “so maybe don’t shatter my elbow—?”
“Nonsense!” Lee declared, then turned to you. “And you, radiant blossom of the Hidden Leaf—would you honor me with one dance, just one, before my legs are lost to the flames of eternal motion?”
You blinked, startled. Smiled despite yourself. Before you could answer, a firm hand clapped down on Lee’s shoulder. “Easy there, Lee,” said Might Guy, appearing behind him in matching green, his teeth catching the firelight in a blinding grin. “Let the youth of today set their own rhythm.” Lee nodded solemnly, bowing to you in exaggerated apology. “Forgive me. I was… overcome.”
“You’re forgiven,” you said, eyes dancing. Naruto made a face. “I should’ve definitely overslept.”
Choji wandered over next, carrying two plates piled high with food. “You guys seen Ino?” he asked around a mouthful of rice. Shikamaru sighed. “She’s probably organizing the desserts again. Or yelling at Sai for mislabeling them.” Choji grinned. “She scares me a little.” You tilted your head, amused. “Only a little?” “I mean… respectfully.”
Naruto laughed for real this time, the sound chasing away the weight in his chest for just a moment. This was what he’d fought for. What they all had. This messy, ordinary, beautiful version of peace. But even surrounded by it, his eyes kept flicking to you.
The warmth of the evening curled around the gathering like a soft blanket, drawing the villagers closer beneath the web of lanterns. The chatter thickened, blurred into laughter and lazy melodies as time stretched and bent, slipping slowly from early evening into night. Dishes came and went—plates of honey-glazed chicken, roasted vegetables, bowls of miso and sweet pickled roots. The air grew richer with the scent of grilled meats and rice vinegar, sake heavy in the laughter of those gathered.
You sat near Naruto beneath the edge of the garden canopy, feet tucked beneath you, the firelight painting shifting shadows across your cheek. His fingers were close—resting on the bench between you—but still unmoving, like a promise half-kept. You leaned over to say something to Ino, who had just settled beside you with a fresh drink and a teasing smile, and Naruto let his eyes wander—not just in admiration, though that was certainly part of it. It was something quieter than that. Something more private.
He didn’t want to just look at you. He wanted to feel the space you left behind when you stepped away. The curve of your absence. The warmth your voice left in his chest.
Shikamaru launched into some story about a mission gone sideways, complete with his usual eye-rolling exasperation, and Choji chimed in with food commentary mid-bite. Even Kakashi, half-lounging against a nearby pillar with a cup of something suspiciously purple in hand, was chuckling softly to himself. Naruto smiled and laughed when the group did, but his thoughts kept drifting. Every time you glanced his way, every time your knee pressed slightly against his or your shoulder nudged his arm—he felt it like a silent drumbeat beneath his skin.
You leaned closer at one point, voice low enough that only he could hear. “It’s a nice song,” you said, nodding toward the slow rhythm threading through the night, some old folk tune played by shinobi who’d long since traded swords for strings. He nodded, unsure where to look. Your gaze lingered a beat longer. “Would you dance with me?” There was no pressure in your voice. Just a gentle invitation. A window cracked open.
Naruto’s breath caught. The words were there—I want to. More than anything. But they twisted behind his tongue, knotted in doubt, and he looked away just slightly, as if the firelight had become too bright.
“Maybe in a bit,” he murmured, voice caught somewhere between apology and self-betrayal. You didn’t press. You only nodded, offered a small smile, and turned back to the others—though your posture shifted, the line of your shoulder just a touch more distant.
He hated that he noticed. And more than that, he hated that he didn’t act.
Later, when the sky had melted fully into indigo and stars scattered like embers overhead, Naruto found himself in a lively pocket of the celebration, caught in a half-drunken conversation with Kiba, Lee, and Choji. Kiba was telling a story—loud, animated, his hands moving with every twist and turn—and Naruto laughed along, grateful for the distraction, even if it didn’t quite quiet the guilt sitting heavy in his stomach.
“You remember that mission near the Lightning border?” Kiba was saying, mouth full of skewered meat. “The one where Shino swore the beetle was cursed?” Choji snorted. “I remember you getting chased halfway down a hill by a boar because you thought it was your ninken.” “It was Akamaru!” Kiba protested, clearly offended. Naruto grinned. “Then why were you crying?” “I wasn’t crying. I was strategically retreating.” Laughter rolled through them. Naruto glanced across the courtyard again. You were standing near the lantern arch now, speaking with Ino and Hinata, the three of you haloed in gold. You looked calm. You looked like you belonged in every kind of light.
He’d seen the way your eyes had flicked to the dancing earlier. The way your fingers had idly traced the rim of your cup when no one was speaking. You hadn’t asked again. And he hadn’t offered.
He was still kicking himself when Kiba’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Hey.” Naruto blinked. Kiba followed his gaze. Saw where it landed. Saw you. And for once—he didn’t tease. “You’re gonna hate yourself later if you keep just sitting here,” he said, not unkindly. Naruto didn’t answer. Kiba exhaled, stretched his arms behind his head. “Well then. If you won’t dance with her—” He stood, brushing off his pants. “—I will.”
Naruto’s heart stuttered.
Not out of jealousy. That wasn’t it. It was something colder. Something deeper.
Shame.
Kiba strode toward you with the easy confidence of someone who didn’t second guess the things he wanted. Naruto watched as he approached—said something that made you laugh, motioned toward the music with a playful bow. You looked surprised. Then your gaze flicked briefly to Naruto. You hesitated. He didn’t move.
And so, with a soft smile, you nodded.
Kiba offered his hand, and you took it. They stepped into the lamplight together, and Naruto couldn’t tear his eyes away. Kiba didn’t touch you inappropriately. His hand stayed at a respectful place on your back, his movements easy, light, playful. It wasn’t flirtation. It was a friend offering you what Naruto hadn’t been brave enough to.
And you…
You looked radiant.
Your eyes closed for a moment as the music shifted into something slower. Your hand rested delicately on Kiba’s shoulder, and you followed his rhythm with quiet grace. Naruto felt the ache hit like a dull blade between his ribs. It wasn’t jealousy. It was grief. Grief for the version of the night where he’d said yes.
Kakashi appeared beside him, silent as a shadow, eyes trained on the dancefloor. “I thought you were the bold one,” he said casually, sipping from his strange drink. Naruto didn’t answer. “She asked you first, didn’t she?” “Yeah,” he said, barely above a whisper. Kakashi hummed thoughtfully. “You know, for someone who faced down gods and monsters, you're surprisingly easy to spook.” Naruto grimaced. “It’s not that.” “No?” He hesitated. “I just… I don’t want to mess it up.” Kakashi tilted his head. “By dancing with her?” Naruto ran a hand through his hair. “By not being enough.”
Kakashi was quiet for a moment. Then: “You think love’s about being enough? You think she’s looking at you and thinking about who you’re not?” Naruto stayed silent. “She’s not,” Kakashi said simply. “She’s just thinking about who you are. And whether you’re willing to meet her halfway.”
The words settled like mist, sinking into Naruto’s chest before he could swat them away with a laugh or a shrug. He didn’t answer.
He stepped away from the group without a word.
The garden quieted as he moved past the outer edge, lanternlight fading behind him until only the hush of the trees remained. Here, the world felt stiller. The chatter of voices and clinking of glasses softened into background noise. The sky above opened wide, cloudless and dark, lit only by stars that pulsed in and out of sight like memories.
Naruto exhaled. Ran a hand through his hair. His fingers shook more than he wanted to admit.
“You always were dramatic, brat.”
The voice came from a few steps away, low and gravelly and unmistakable. Naruto turned to find Jiraiya seated on the low wooden fence at the edge of the compound garden, a sake bottle resting beside him, sleeves pushed up, the lines in his face deepened by the flickering torchlight. Naruto blinked. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“Long enough to hear that sigh and wonder if someone broke your heart or stepped on your foot.” Naruto snorted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Neither. I think I stepped on my own.” Jiraiya chuckled, but not unkindly. “Sounds about right.”
Naruto moved closer and leaned against a post beside his old master, staring up at the stars. For a while, neither of them said anything. The silence was companionable, touched with the quiet hum of insects and distant laughter. “She asked me to dance,” Naruto said finally.
Jiraiya made a sound in his throat. “And you said no?” “I said… maybe later.” Jiraiya took a sip of his sake. “And?” “Later never came.” Another pause. Then Jiraiya tilted his head slightly. “Why?” Naruto shrugged. “Because I was scared.” “Of dancing?”
Naruto gave a tired laugh. “No. Of… what it means. Of screwing it up. Of her realizing I’m not enough. That I don’t know what I’m doing. That maybe I’m not as grown up as she thinks I am.” Jiraiya looked at him for a long moment, then reached for the bottle and poured a second cup, handing it over.
Naruto took it without protest.
“Kid,” Jiraiya said, voice quieter now, “do you think any of us ever know what we’re doing when it comes to love?”
Naruto didn’t respond.
“I’ve written more about it than I care to admit,” Jiraiya went on. “Poems, novels, bad smut with good lines. And you know what I’ve learned? Love doesn’t give a damn how experienced you are. It doesn’t care if you’ve done this before, or if you’ve never set foot on that kind of battlefield.”
Naruto glanced at him.
“It’s not about being perfect,” Jiraiya said. “It’s about showing up anyway. Even when your hands are shaking. Especially then.” Naruto looked back at the sky. The stars didn’t have answers, but they didn’t judge either. “I keep thinking,” he said slowly, “that she’s lived more than I have. That she’s been with other people. That maybe she’s expecting something from me I don’t know how to give.” Jiraiya nodded once, solemn. “Maybe she has. Maybe she is. But here’s the thing: she chose you. She’s still choosing you.” Naruto swallowed. The sake burned a little on the way down, but it grounded him. Anchored him to the moment. “She’s not waiting for you to be anyone else,” Jiraiya said. “She’s waiting for you to see yourself the way she already does.”
Naruto went still. And for a moment, the ache in his chest didn’t feel like fear. It felt like hope.
“She doesn’t need you to be better than the people who came before,” Jiraiya added. “She just wants you to be real with her. Honest. Present. There.”
Naruto closed his eyes. He saw you again—your soft smile, the way your fingers had reached for his earlier, the way your eyes had searched his without pressing. The patience in your silence. The quiet ache in your expression when he looked away. “She deserves more,” he whispered. “She deserves you,” Jiraiya said. “The version that fights for what he wants. Not the one who runs because he’s afraid of being seen.”
Naruto opened his eyes. And this time, they were clear.
He turned to Jiraiya, offered the empty cup back. “Thanks.” Jiraiya smirked. “Don’t thank me yet. Go tell her.” Naruto nodded. Pushed off the post. Started back toward the lights. Then paused. Looked back once.
“She really is the one,” he said softly. Jiraiya’s grin softened, just a little. “I know.”
The stars burned quietly above Konoha, scattered like forgotten prayers across the dark velvet sky. The air had cooled, but not unkindly—just enough to brush bare arms and cheeks, to remind the skin that night had fallen fully now. The wind carried traces of laughter and sake and ash, the scent of grilled fish long since faded. Somewhere nearby, the music still played—slower now, like the celebration had softened into something more intimate, more remembered than lived.
You stood near the edge of the garden, your cup cradled loosely in your hands, the last of your drink warming your palms more than your thoughts. You weren’t drunk—not really. Just flushed. Loose. Your limbs felt like they belonged to you in a different way tonight, like gravity was softer than usual. Naruto found you there—quiet, apart, beneath the hanging paper lanterns whose glow had faded to something pale and dreamlike. The moment he saw you, he stopped. Something had shifted.
You felt it too. It lived in the way his shoulders moved now—not uncertain, not closed off. Like whatever weight he’d been carrying had finally been set down, somewhere just out of sight. Your eyes met, and this time, he didn’t look away. “Hey,” you said softly. He returned the word, simple and steady. “Hey.” You let the silence stretch for a breath. Two. Then, gently, “Would you mind if we left?”
His brow lifted slightly. “Now?” You nodded, the corner of your mouth curling. “I think I’ve had enough celebration for one night.” He didn’t argue. Only tilted his head and studied you for a moment, as if trying to see something behind your eyes. And then he smiled. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
You moved through the party one last time together, exchanging quiet goodbyes with friends who were already starting to gather in smaller circles, voices hushed with the weight of sleepiness or drink. Ino hugged you both. Lee offered an overly dramatic farewell speech. Shikamaru waved from his spot on the steps without rising. Kakashi gave Naruto a slow, knowing nod—nothing more.
And then the lanterns were behind you. The lights. The music. And Konoha unfolded before you like a sleeping giant, every rooftop soaked in silver, every street empty and waiting.
The walk home was quiet, but not the same kind of quiet it had been earlier. Something had shifted in the air between you. Something subtle. Not spoken. But there. Naruto walked beside you with his hands tucked loosely into his pockets, his gaze moving occasionally from the cobbled path to the moonlit rooftops. You felt the way his body shifted—closer now, more open. Like whatever wall he’d kept between you had cracked, and the light was finally pouring through.
You didn’t press him. Didn’t speak. You let the night hold the silence for you.
Above you, the moon hung high, a white coin carved into the dark, casting long shadows that trailed behind you like whispers. The lamps along the street were few and far between now, their flickering glow only accentuating the softness of the night. The world felt smaller somehow—slowed down. As if all the noise of the evening had been left behind in a memory, and only this moment remained. You were nearly at his building—just a few doors away—when he stopped. You blinked, turning to him. “Everything okay?” you asked.
He didn’t answer at first. His gaze had lifted—not at you, but just over your shoulder, toward the sky. His lips parted like he was thinking of saying something and couldn’t quite decide how. Then, quietly, “Can I ask you something?”
You nodded.
He turned to face you more fully now. His expression wasn’t guarded—not like before. It was open in a way that caught you off guard. Raw, almost. He looked younger somehow. Like the boy he used to be still lived behind his eyes. “I know this is… backwards,” he said, voice soft, nearly swallowed by the breeze. “But would you… would you still want to dance?”
You stared at him.
It took a beat for the words to settle. For the meaning to unfold. Here. Now. Under the moonlight. In the middle of the quiet street where no one was watching. You blinked once, and then the surprise gave way to something warmer. Your lips curved gently. “I thought you’d never ask,” you whispered. Naruto let out a breath—half laugh, half relief—and stepped toward you, offering his hand with something shy in his eyes. His fingers brushed yours carefully, as if testing the shape of the moment, and then slowly, deliberately, he drew you in.
There was no music. No rhythm but the steady beat of your hearts, and even that felt like a shared thing now, as if your steps were guided not by sound but by trust. He rested one hand at your waist, the other curling around your fingers, and you followed him without hesitation, your free hand settling lightly at his shoulder.
And then the world fell away.
You moved together slowly, your feet gliding over stone still warm from the sun. The moonlight pooled around you in soft silver, catching in your hair, casting gentle glow over his jaw. His eyes didn’t leave yours. Not once. There was something reverent in the way he held you now. Not desperate. Not unsure. But present. Entirely.
You let your head rest lightly against his shoulder, your breath syncing with his. The breeze played at the edges of your sleeves. Somewhere in the distance, a windchime stirred softly—just one single note that faded as quickly as it came. This wasn’t the kind of dance you’d imagined earlier at the celebration. It was quieter. Slower. Almost like dreaming. But it felt more real than anything else had tonight.
You pulled back just slightly, enough to look up at him. His gaze found yours, steady. Clear. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For earlier.” You shook your head, fingers tightening just a little where they rested against him. “You don’t have to be.” “I do,” he insisted. “Because I saw you. I saw how much you wanted to reach out. And I let the old fear win. I let it tell me I wasn’t enough.”
Your breath caught.
“But you were right there,” he continued. “The whole time. Just… waiting. Not asking for perfect. Just for me. And I think…” He exhaled. “I think I’m finally ready to show up.”
Your heart ached in the best way.
And then, without asking permission from your thoughts, your body leaned in—just enough for your lips to brush against his.
The kiss was soft. Brief. A breath more than a whisper. But it stole the air from Naruto’s lungs.
He froze at first—not because he didn’t want it, but because something inside him cracked open with the touch. Something long-held, long-hidden. The world narrowed to the warmth of your mouth against his and the clean scent of your skin, the way your fingers curved gently at his shoulder as if they’d always belonged there. He felt his heart jolt, like it had missed a step and then raced to catch up. His hand, once trembling with hesitation, now steadied against the small of your back, drawing you just a little closer. His other hand left yours to ghost up your arm, brushing along the curve of your shoulder with something deeper than shyness. Not bold. Not greedy. Just… present. Intentional.
You leaned into him, your body fitting against his like it had always known the shape. And somewhere between the stillness and the silence, your steps slowed again—no longer dancing, just swaying. Breathing. Existing together in the in-between.
Naruto felt it in the shift of your weight. In the way your chest rose and fell a little faster now, how your fingers curled lightly into the fabric at the back of his shirt. His hands moved lower, inch by inch, resting now just above your hips. He’d never dared before. Not even in moments where he could’ve. But tonight, something was different. He was different.
He felt it in the way your breath caught when his palms pressed a little firmer into you, in the subtle way your body tilted toward his, inviting him closer. Testing the space between want and need. You pulled back slightly—not far, just enough to look up at him.
And your gaze…
There was something in your eyes that hadn’t been there before. Something untamed. Not lust alone—something fuller than that. A kind of knowing. Like you’d waited long enough for him to see you, and now that he had… you were ready to show him just how much. And whatever it was, Naruto felt it strike through him like a lightning bolt straight to the chest. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t.
And then—your hand found the side of his neck, pulled him down—
—and you kissed him again.
But this time, it wasn’t soft. Your mouth moved against his with intent, lips parting, deepening the contact until he felt the tip of your tongue brush his. He gasped quietly into you, the sound lost in the heat, in the way your fingers slid into his hair, anchoring him to you as if the street beneath your feet might vanish. He’d never kissed like this before. Not once.
And yet—his body answered instinctively. Mouth opening to you. Breath mingling with yours. His hands tightened where they held you, no longer afraid of their own boldness. You tasted like wine and something sweeter, something only you, and it was dizzying. Your tongue moved slowly against his, teasing, coaxing, and he groaned softly into the kiss before he could stop himself. The sound vibrated against your lips—and you only pulled him closer.
He melted into you.
Right there in the empty street, under the indifferent gaze of the moon, he let the fear go. No more hesitating. No more wondering if he was enough. Just the pressure of your mouth on his, the urgency in your hands, the electricity threading through every point of contact between you. You kissed him like you had no plans of stopping. Like you’d been waiting for this—him—for longer than you cared to admit.
And Naruto felt it.
He felt it in the way your hands tightened slightly in his hair, in the heat that flared behind your kiss, in the barely restrained pull of your body toward his like a tide that had finally found its shore. His heart slammed in his chest—not from fear anymore, but from the raw realization of how long he’d wanted this too. Wanted you.
Your lips parted slowly, drawing back only far enough for breath, and in the quiet space between your bodies, something shimmered—like the moment had changed shape. Grown deeper. Denser. The kind of silence that hummed beneath the skin. For a few heartbeats, you both just stood there, looking at one another.
Your cheeks were flushed, your lips wet and slightly parted. And the look in your eyes—half-lidded, steady—felt like the answer to every unspoken question he’d ever carried. Naruto’s chest rose and fell with uneven rhythm. Something inside him had uncoiled, warm and spreading, and he couldn’t—didn’t—want to rein it back in. Your fingers found his again. He laced them with yours without hesitation. Neither of you said anything as you turned toward the road again, this time walking in sync, quieter now but heavier with intent. The distance to his apartment wasn’t far, but tonight it felt like another kind of journey—like each step was carrying you both across some invisible threshold neither of you had dared to cross until now.
The streets of Konoha were utterly still. The last of the lanterns had burned low behind paper walls, casting faded orange hues through distant windows. The moon rode high above the village, bathing rooftops and stone in silver-blue light. And though you were surrounded by familiar streets and silent shadows, the air between you and Naruto felt charged, different—like the village itself was holding its breath.
When you reached his building, Naruto hesitated only briefly before pushing the door open. He stepped aside to let you in, hand never leaving yours. Inside, the space was warm and quiet—dimly lit by the soft golden glow of a single lamp near the kitchen. It smelled faintly of clean linen and the faint trace of sandalwood, and for a moment, you both simply stood there, letting the hush of home settle around you.
Then you turned to him again.
And whatever had been restrained on the walk over—tempered by silence, steadied by breath—broke free all at once. He moved first. A step forward. A hand to your cheek. A kiss—deeper now, tasting of want and recognition. He kissed you like someone who had finally realized he didn’t need to be anyone else. Just yours. Only that. Your hands found his waist, pulling him in.
And Naruto—
He let go of whatever had been holding him back. He kissed you with more certainty than before. Still gentle, still careful, but grounded in something solid now. One hand slid to your hip, resting there, fingertips tentative at first. But when you didn’t flinch—when you pressed closer instead—his touch grew bolder. Confident in a way that surprised even him. He broke away, breath heavy, and looked at you with wide, wondering eyes. You smiled, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “So…” you murmured, lips still close enough to his that he felt the whisper against his skin, “this new confidence…” He blinked, breath catching. “Huh?” Your grin widened just slightly. “I take it Jiraiya had something to do with it?” Naruto’s expression shifted—surprised, then amused, then a little sheepish. “Maybe,” he admitted, laughing under his breath. “Or maybe it was… I don’t know. You.”
Your smile softened, turning quiet again. And then you kissed him once more—slow, open, filled with something wordless—and whatever he might have said next vanished. You pulled him with you as you stepped deeper into the room, his arms around you now, your lips barely leaving his for more than a second. The rhythm between you changed again. No longer fast. No longer rushed. Just close. Constant. His hands moved over your sides, your back, learning the lines of you. When his mouth trailed from your lips to your jaw, you tilted your head, granting him silent permission—and he followed the path down to your throat, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake.
When he reached that one spot—just beneath your ear, the place that always made your breath stutter—he paused. And kissed it. Softly. Then again. Slower. Your breath hitched, and you exhaled a small, trembling sound—a quiet moan that escaped you before you could pull it back. Naruto froze.
That sound—
That single, fragile sound lit something in him. His pulse roared in his ears. Not from panic. From pure heat.
He kissed the spot again, firmer this time, and you gasped softly, pressing closer, fingers fisting into the fabric of his shirt. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest. Could feel the tremble in your hands. Could feel you—all of you—leaning into him without restraint. “Y-you okay?” he whispered against your skin, voice rough. Your answer was a breathless laugh, hands sliding down his back. “More than okay.” That was all he needed.
Your steps shifted, backward now, toward the hall that led to his bedroom. You tugged gently on his hand, guiding him, never breaking contact. His fingers traced patterns along the small of your back, then upward, slipping beneath fabric, skimming bare skin. His mouth found yours again—slower now, deeper, every kiss unraveling something in him he hadn’t known was still tightly wound. But just as the threshold to his bedroom approached, you slowed. Then stopped. You looked up at him, your fingers still looped at the collar of his shirt. “Naruto?” you asked quietly. He blinked, suddenly aware of the way his hands were trembling again. You were breathing quickly, but your eyes were steady, clear. “Are you… sure?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. “We don’t have to rush.” His heart stuttered. And then he smiled. Not wide. Not nervous. Just real.
He reached for your hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said, his voice low and warm. “I want this. I want you.” Your eyes softened. And something in your shoulders relaxed, the last thread of uncertainty dissolving like mist. You didn’t say anything as you reached for his hand again. Just held it. Just led him.
The quiet of his bedroom wrapped around you both as you stepped inside—low light spilling in from the streetlamp outside, catching in the pale curtain that swayed ever so slightly in the breeze. The room was warm, lived-in. A space that had seen late nights, quiet mornings, laughter, silence. But not this. Not you, like this. You turned to him again, close now, and your hands rose slowly—fingertips brushing along his shoulders, then up the sides of his neck, featherlight. He felt the weight of your touch like a current running through him, grounding and electric at once. He swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat.
Your eyes searched his face for a beat longer—asking without asking. And he nodded. That was all you needed.
Your lips met his again, unhurried, coaxing him into something deeper. The kiss was slow but certain, your mouth moving against his like you knew exactly how to pull him in, how to quiet the last tremors in his chest. His hands came to rest at your waist as he kissed you back, still with that soft, stunned kind of awe, like he was afraid he might wake up. You smiled against his mouth, and then your hands began to move—down over his chest, sliding along the hem of his shirt. You hesitated just for a moment, giving him room to stop you. He didn’t. He couldn’t. He only nodded again, his breath shaky but sure, and lifted his arms to let you undress him.
You peeled his shirt away slowly, inch by inch, revealing warm skin and lean muscle and a trail of nervous heat that ran straight up his spine. He shivered beneath your touch, not from cold, but from the sheer intimacy of it—of being seen, not just looked at. Of being wanted.
And you…
You were so gentle with him.
Your hands brushed along his collarbones, down over his bare chest, slow and reverent, like every inch of him deserved to be known. Naruto’s breath hitched again, and his fingers flexed slightly at your hips. He wasn’t used to being touched like this—softly, patiently. He didn’t know how to hold it in his palms without trembling. But you didn’t rush him. You kissed him again—slower now. Deeper.
He sank into it.
Your body pressed against his, warm and certain, and you moved together in careful steps until the back of your knees found the edge of the bed. You broke the kiss with a quiet breath, eyes flicking down, and then, without words, you let your dress fall away.
His mouth went dry.
You stood there before him in nothing but soft underthings, bathed in shadow and streetlight, your hair loose around your shoulders, your chest rising and falling just a little quicker than before. Naruto had never seen anything more beautiful. He wanted to say something—anything—but no words came. Only the heat that rushed to his cheeks, the way his throat tightened with something close to wonder. You reached for his hand again, and guided him down with you.
The mattress dipped beneath your weight as you laid back slowly, and he followed—carefully, hesitantly—hovering over you on his elbows, his skin flushed and warm, his eyes locked to yours like they were the only thing anchoring him to the earth. He didn’t know where to look. Your face. Your neck. The soft slope of your collarbone. The line of your waist beneath him. And the way you were watching him—open, patient, welcoming—like you weren’t nervous at all, only present.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before he could stop himself.
Your smile deepened.
And then your hands found him again—gentle at first, tracing along his sides, grounding him. He shivered beneath your touch. Every brush of your fingertips felt like it carved a new memory into his skin. He leaned down slowly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Then lower. Then to the space just above your heart. You sighed softly beneath him, your hands threading up into his hair again, pulling him back to your lips. The kiss deepened quickly—hungrier now. You moved against him, your body arching gently beneath his, and Naruto could hardly breathe. You were everywhere—soft skin and breath and sound and want—and he’d never imagined it could feel like this. Not frantic, not lost. Just… real.
Your thigh brushed his hip. His hand slipped along your side, learning your shape. You guided him with subtle movements, always patient, always careful. He was clumsy, a little too tentative, but you didn’t mind. You made room for him. You taught him how to listen to you—through breath, through touch, through the way your lips broke apart only to find his again. And every time he kissed you, he gave a little more of himself away. Until it wasn’t nervousness anymore. It was want. It was him choosing this—you—with both hands.
He hovered over you now, shirtless and flushed, your bodies pressed together, breath mingling, eyes searching. And in that moment, nothing about him felt unsure. Not anymore. He leaned down again, kissed you softly, slowly. One hand cupped your cheek, the other tangled with yours where it rested between your bodies. “Tell me if I mess something up,” Naruto whispered, voice hoarse. “You won’t,” you said, voice low and full of certainty. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
Your breath was still warm on his lips when you shifted—slow, unhurried—your hands brushing over his chest, grounding him as you moved. He felt the shift in your weight first, the gentle push at his side, the silent way you guided him to roll with you until he found himself on his back. The mattress dipped beneath your knees.
And suddenly, you were above him. His heart stuttered.
Naruto lay there, staring up at you, lips parted, eyes wide, every nerve in his body awake and buzzing. The soft light from the window wrapped around your shoulders, silvering the outline of your form, and for a moment, all he could do was look at you—his breath caught somewhere in his throat. You weren’t rushing. You just were—kneeling over him, thighs pressing gently around his hips, your hands resting against his ribs like you’d always belonged there.
And gods, you were beautiful.
His hands, uncertain at first, rose to your thighs, fingers lightly brushing against your skin. His touch was reverent. Careful. Like he didn’t quite believe you were real. But you leaned into him, just a little, your hips settling lightly against his, and the heat that bloomed through his chest nearly undid him. He felt it—you—everywhere. In the weight of your body over his. In the look in your eyes as they searched his face. In the soft curve of your mouth when you realized how hard he was trying not to fall apart under you.
And then—
Without a word, you reached one hand behind you, toward the small of your back. Naruto’s breath hitched. His hands froze on your legs as he watched—really watched—the way your fingers moved to the clasp of your bra, the slow, practiced ease of it. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t seductive in the way some might imagine. It was honest. Intimate. And utterly captivating.
He didn’t even realize he’d stopped breathing.
You unhooked it with a quiet snap, the straps slipping forward over your shoulders. Your eyes never left his. The fabric slid away, soft as a sigh, and you let it fall beside you on the bed without ceremony.
And then you were bare to him.
His breath came back all at once. Not in a gasp. Not in a moan. But in a long, silent exhale, like his chest had finally remembered how to move.
You weren’t shy—not with him. And that did something to him. Something deep. Because in that moment, you weren’t just showing him your body. You were offering trust. Letting him see you—truly see you—without hiding, without armor. And it wasn’t lust that struck him first. It was wonder. Pure, quiet wonder.
His hands lifted slowly, brushing over your hips, your waist, then higher—until one hand settled just beneath your ribs, fingers splayed, as if trying to memorize the shape of you with his palm. “You’re…” he whispered, but the word trailed off. He couldn’t finish it. Because there wasn’t a word strong enough. You leaned down then, your bare skin brushing his, and kissed him—slow, deep, steady. He melted into it. Into you. His arms wound around your back, holding you against him, his heart pounding so hard he was sure you could feel it.
You were all softness and fire, all steady rhythm and quiet urgency, and Naruto—he had never known closeness like this. He didn’t feel lost. Or out of place.
He felt… seen.
You stayed there above him, straddling his hips, your knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his waist, your breath still warm and shallow as it mingled with his. His hands rested tentatively on your thighs, and he couldn’t look away—couldn’t stop watching you, the way your hair framed your face, the way your chest rose and fell in time with his own racing heart. And then—without a word—you reached down and took his hands again.
You guided them upward, slowly, fingers intertwined with his, lifting them from where they rested to the warm bare skin of your waist. His breath caught, but he didn’t pull away. He let you move him. Let you show him. His palms slid across your ribs, your sides—still hesitant, still trembling with the weight of the moment—and then higher. Until you placed them over your breasts. He froze.
Heat rushed to his face so fast he thought his vision might blur—but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Your hands stayed over his, holding him there. Not forcing. Guiding. And when he looked up at you, your gaze was soft and patient, your expression so full of trust it made his chest ache. So he breathed in. And let himself feel.
Your skin was warm beneath his fingers—soft and delicate, yet solid and real. He moved slowly, following the shape of you, brushing his thumbs in slow circles where he thought you might like it. He wasn’t sure. He was guessing. Learning.
And then—
You sighed. A soft, low sound that slipped past your lips and settled in the space between you like a secret. He felt it everywhere. In his chest, in his pulse, in the way his hands instinctively tightened just slightly around you. You leaned into his touch, and he thought he might shatter under the weight of it—not from pressure, but from how much it was. How real. The heat between your bodies deepened, not frantic, but steady—like an ember catching breath, growing warmer by degrees.
Your hips shifted over him, only slightly, but it sent a jolt of sensation through his spine. His hands faltered for a moment, and you leaned down to kiss him—reassuring, slow, grounding him again. Then your hands slid down his arms, down his sides, until they rested against his stomach. You moved with purpose—graceful, unhurried—and he let you take the lead. You were the lead. And he was following, willingly. Your mouth trailed soft kisses down his jaw, his neck, and he tilted his head instinctively to give you more room. His hands never left your skin, still exploring in quiet reverence, and each time you shifted over him, he had to fight to keep his breath steady.
But gods—he didn’t want you to stop.
And you didn’t.
Your hips moved again, slowly, rolling down against him with more certainty this time—drawing a quiet, startled sound from his throat as his body arched up toward yours. The friction was sudden and devastating, even through the layers that still separated you. But it was real, and Naruto felt it with every inch of his skin. You moved again. And he couldn’t think. Just feel.
The pressure. The warmth. The way your body aligned with his like it had always belonged there. You rocked against him with slow, deliberate rhythm, and all he could do was hold on—his fingers gripping at your hips now, not tightly, but with awe, as if grounding himself to something solid. He was already so hard it almost hurt.
And he knew—knew from the way your breath quickened, the way your hands slid up along his chest again, the way your eyes darkened when they met his—you felt it too. You wanted him. Not just in theory. Not just in a vague, distant way. You wanted this. You wanted him. And it undid something in him.
Naruto swallowed, his breath shaky, his body trembling beneath you as your lips ghosted along his neck—soft, trailing, open-mouthed kisses that made his spine curl into the mattress. He was losing himself, and he didn’t mind. You kissed him again, deeper now, and his hands moved up your back, one tangling in your hair, the other resting at your waist. And then you shifted. Your hands slid down, slow and sure, until your fingers found the waistband of his pants. You paused just long enough to search his face—quiet question in your eyes. He nodded.
Breathless. Helpless. Willing.
And you moved.
Your fingers worked with quiet urgency—no teasing, no delay. You undid the button, the zipper, and began to slide the fabric down. Naruto lifted his hips without thinking, giving you space, trusting you completely. You moved with such care, such ease, like the moment was a conversation you already knew how to speak. Boxers followed. And suddenly the air felt different—cooler against his skin, heavier between you. He was exposed now. Completely. And still, you didn’t look away. You didn’t laugh. Or flinch. Or hesitate. You just breathed. And touched. And stayed.
His cheeks burned, but he couldn’t look anywhere else. Because you were still above him, warm and steady, hands on his thighs, your gaze roaming slowly over him—not as someone assessing, but as someone feeling. Wanting.
You leaned in closer, the heat from your bodies mingling together as your breath whispered across his bare skin. Then, with a gentle ease that belied the racing pulse in your throat, you bent down and took him into your mouth.
Naruto's eyes shot wide, a sharp intake of breath cutting through the silence of the room. His hips jolted upwards reflexively, a soft, desperate sound escaping his lips. The sensation was like nothing he'd ever felt before—so much more intense, so much more personal than the furtive touches he'd stolen from himself in the quiet of his own room when he was alone. Your mouth was warm and wet, enveloping him completely, and it sent a shockwave of pleasure through him that left his body trembling.
You didn't stop, though. You took him deeper, your tongue playing along the sensitive underside of his shaft, your hands caressing his thighs, urging them apart slightly to give yourself more room. The feeling of you around him was intoxicating, a heady mix of pleasure and disbelief that had him groaning out loud. His cheeks were still flushed, his eyes glazed over as they remained locked on yours, watching as your head moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had him seeing stars.
After a few moments that stretched into an eternity, you pulled back, just enough to allow a glimpse of pink around his girth. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a smoldering heat that mirrored the fire burning in his own. The connection between you was palpable, a silent communication that spoke of desire and need.
Naruto's chest heaved with the effort of staying still, his fingers twitching against the comforter. He wanted to reach for you, to touch you, but he was afraid to break the spell. So he held on, watching as you took him in again, your cheeks hollowing with each deep suck. The noises you made were low and needy, and they only served to spur him on, making his erection throb painfully. You paused, just for a moment, to swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the precum that had beaded there. It was a gesture so intimate, so erotic, that it had him moaning your name.
He felt your warm breath against his skin as you paused, looking up at him with eyes that held the promise of so much more. He could see the desire in your gaze, the way it flickered with anticipation and the faintest trace of nerves. It was like watching a flame dance in the dark—beautiful, mesmerizing, and oh so tempting. And as your lips left him, swollen and sensitive, he couldn't help but feel the loss like a physical ache.
But you didn't leave him hanging for long.
You slid your way back up his body, your soft curves brushing against him like a warm summer breeze, leaving trails of heat in their wake. When your gaze met his again, there was something new in your eyes—a determination that sent his pulse racing even faster. He watched, unable to look away, as your hands slid to the edge of your underwear, tugging it gently down your legs. Your thighs parted slightly, revealing the soft, bare skin of your inner thighs, and his eyes followed the path down, down, until you were just as bare as he was.
The room felt like it was spinning around him—everything but the two of you seemed to fade away into nothing but a distant buzz. His heart hammered in his chest, echoing in his ears, and all he could do was lie there, trembling, as you straddled him once again. The head of his cock nudged against your wet heat, and he couldn't hold back the groan that rumbled up from deep within him. The feeling was exquisite—like coming home after a long, hard journey.
As you positioned yourself over him, guiding him to your entrance, your eyes never left his. They were wide, filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty, but the confidence in your touch belied any doubt you might have felt. And when you finally sank down, taking him inch by inch into your warm, welcoming depths, it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before.
Naruto's hips jerked up to meet you, the sensation of being inside you so intense it was almost painful. You were so tight, so wet, so perfect, and the way your body seemed to mold around him was like a dream come true.
You slid down until he was fully sheathed inside you, and then you stilled, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you adjusted to the new sensation. He could feel your muscles contracting around him, gripping him like a vice, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to move, not to thrust up into you and claim you as his own. Instead, he waited, his hands on your hips, his breathing ragged. He watched as your eyes fluttered closed and a soft, contented sigh escaped your lips. And when you finally began to rock your hips, moving slowly at first, he felt like he could come undone right then and there.
The sensation was overwhelming—each roll of your hips sending waves of pleasure crashing through him, each brush of your clit against his pelvis making him grit his teeth in an effort to hold back. He didn't want this to end, didn't want to miss a single moment of feeling you like this, wrapped around him so perfectly.
Your breasts bounced gently with each movement, your nipples hard and pebbled from the cold air in the room. He reached up to cup them, feeling the weight of them in his hands, watching as you bit your lip in response. The air was thick with lust, with the scent of your arousal mingling with his own, creating a heady perfume that seemed to cloud his thoughts even further. All he could focus on was the way you felt, the way you moved, the way your eyes opened to meet his again, filled with a heat that seemed to scorch his very soul.
You leaned down, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was just as hungry, just as demanding as the way your body moved against his. It was like you were trying to devour each other, to consume one another in a fiery dance of passion that neither of you could control. Narutos eyes never left yours, and as your hips rolled in a sensual dance, he could feel the tightness of your pussy clench around him, milking him with every stroke. It was a delicious torture, one he didn't know if he could endure much longer.
Reaching out, you took his hand and brought it to your mouth, wrapping those soft, warm lips around two of his fingers. Narutos breath hitched as you sucked them into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them, tasting him, teasing him. He watched, entranced, as you drew them out slowly, your eyes never leaving his, and then you brought them down to that sweet, sensitive bud nestled between your folds. "Here," you whispered, guiding his hand to your clit, "like this." You showed him how you liked it, the way your hips bucked when he touched you, the way your breath hitched in your throat. And as your fingers danced around his, his mind went blank with the need to feel more of you, to give you more pleasure than you could handle.
He started to rub you in those slow, steady circles, just as you'd shown him, and the noises you made—the way your breath caught in your throat, the soft, keening sounds that escaped your lips—it was like a siren's song, drawing him closer to the edge of oblivion. He could feel the tension coiling in his balls, the heat building in his cock, and it took every ounce of his willpower to keep from coming right then and there.
But you had other plans. You took his hand away from your clit, leaving it wet and shining with your arousal, and brought it to his mouth. "Taste." you murmured, and he obeyed without thought, licking the sweetness from his own fingers. The taste was heady, intoxicating, and it only served to drive him wilder.
You straddled him once more, and this time, as you took him inside you, there was a new urgency in your movements. You rode him harder, faster, your breasts bouncing with the rhythm of your hips, your nails digging into his shoulders. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him, and he knew he was losing control. But Naruto didn't want to just watch anymore. He reached up, grabbing your hips with both hands, and guided you into a more intense rhythm. His thumb found your clit again, and he rubbed it in those perfect circles that made you whimper and arch your back. Your eyes squeezed shut as you leaned into his touch, your body shuddering with each stroke.
"Like that?" he panted, his voice thick with desire. "Yes," you gasped, your voice strained, "just like that."
And as you moved together, the only sounds in the room were the slap of skin on skin and the muffled cries of pleasure. His cock was so deep inside you, it felt like he was touching your soul, filling you up in a way nothing else ever could. And with each thrust, he could feel you tightening around him, could feel you getting closer and closer to that sweet release.
You leaned forward, your hair cascading around both of you like a curtain of silk, and kissed him hard. It was a kiss filled with passion and need, a kiss that spoke of the connection that had been building between you for so long. And as your tongues tangled together, Naruto felt the world fall away, leaving just the two of them in this perfect moment. But he couldn't resist the urge any longer. With a groan of pure need, he rolled you both over, his body now covering yours, his eyes never leaving yours. The shift in power was palpable, but instead of fear, you seemed to melt into it, your legs wrapping around his waist eagerly. He held you tightly, one hand cradling your head, the other sliding down to grip your hip firmly. His cock slid out of you briefly, only to be replaced by the thickness of his thumb, which he used to tease your clit as he positioned himself at your entrance again.
"Yes," you moaned, your body arching up to meet his, your eyes begging him to fill you again. He didn't disappoint. With one swift, powerful thrust, he was inside you, and the sound that left your lips was nothing short of a scream of pleasure. You felt so good, so tight, so wet around him, and the sensation was more than he could handle. His hips began to move, a punishing rhythm that had your breath coming in pants and your nails digging into his back.
You clung to him, your legs locked around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper, faster. The way you moved with him was like nothing he'd ever experienced—each stroke a symphony of pleasure that had him teetering on the edge of ecstasy. "I can't hold on much longer," he confessed, his voice strained, his muscles tight with the effort of maintaining control. "Neither can I," you gasped, your own body wound tight as a spring, desperate for release.
You reached down between your bodies, your hand finding your clit easily in the slickness that had built up between you. Your fingers danced over the sensitive nub, and your cries grew louder, more urgent, as you approached the precipice. "Don't stop, please," you begged, your voice breaking with need.
And Naruto didn't. He watched as your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth fell open, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. He thrust into you harder, faster, his own body responding to the desperation in your voice. He could feel the tension coiling in his balls, the heat building in his cock. You tightened around him, your pussy gripping him like a vise, and he just knew you were close. So close. And he wanted to be there with you. He wanted to feel you come apart in his arms, wanted to know that he'd been the one to give you that kind of pleasure.
So he leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Come for me," he urged, his voice a low, gruff rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Let go."
And with those words, something inside you snapped. You bucked against him, your back arching off the bed, your body writhing with pleasure. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing through you, making your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head.
But Naruto didn't let up. He kept pounding into you, his own release so close he could taste it. And when he felt you begin to come down from that peak, he knew it was time. He slammed into you one final time, his thumb pressing hard against your clit as he spilled himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each hot, thick rope of cum.
The feeling was indescribable—the way your walls contracted around him, milking him for every last drop, the way your body shuddered with the aftershocks of your climax. You lay there, panting, your body still clenching around him, your legs still shaking. And when he finally pulled out of you, the feeling of emptiness was almost too much to bear.
But then—he didn’t leave.
He didn’t roll away or shift awkwardly like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He just stayed, chest rising and falling against yours, his forehead pressed gently to your shoulder, his arms wound around you like you were something sacred. Something still worth holding, even now. Especially now. His breath was warm on your skin. Uneven. Quiet. You felt it—how his heart was still racing against your ribs.
And when he finally spoke, it was soft. A little hoarse. Like he was afraid to break whatever spell the night had cast.
“…Was that okay?”
You turned your head slightly, brushing your lips against his temple. Your fingers moved gently through his hair, damp and mussed, golden strands clinging to your skin. You smiled. “That was perfect.”
Naruto let out a breath you didn’t realize he’d been holding. A tiny, disbelieving laugh trembled in his chest as he shifted just enough to look at you. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes still wide with something close to wonder. His fingers trailed lightly over your waist, then your hip, like he wasn’t ready to let go. Not even of a single inch of you. “I didn’t think it would feel like that,” he said, almost shy. “I mean… I didn’t know it could.” You nudged his nose with yours. “You’re not supposed to know everything, Naruto.” He blinked. “But I wanted to do it right.” “You did.” And you meant it—because it hadn’t been about practiced touches or perfect rhythm. It had been about you and him, the way your bodies learned one another slowly, the way you listened, the way he gave, the way it all meant something.
He kissed you softly, reverently, his lips lingering like a promise, then pulled back only far enough to wrap the blanket over you both. His arms found you again, pulling you close against his chest. Your head nestled beneath his chin, his hand splaying protectively over your back.
Outside, Konoha slept under a silver-washed sky. Inside, everything was still.
“You’re not going anywhere, right?” he whispered, half-asleep already, words slurred at the edges. You smiled into his skin. “Nowhere but here.” And you felt it then—his whole body relaxing around you. The last of the tension bleeding out of him. Trust, full and quiet. Love, warm and unguarded. You lay there for a long time, tangled together in the dark, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty, but full. Of breath, of heartbeat, of something deeper settling between you. And in that hush before sleep, wrapped in his arms, skin still humming where he’d touched you, you knew this for certain:
a man built to level mountains, a solid wall of scarred muscle that took up entirely too much space on the mattress.
but right now, buried deep inside you, Obito Uchiha was reduced to a worshipping mess claiming you for the second time in the night.
he was a man who loved with his entire chest, carrying that loud, all-consuming loyalty he's always had into every single touch.
he was possessive, consumed by the way you felt around him, demanding every single drop of your attention in bed.
a complete lover boy devoted to you.
your lover boy.
you could barely take it anymore. On top of him, riding his dick like it was made for your cunt, and yours only, straddling his thick brawny thighs, gasping for air as you moved at a too desperate pace.
and he loved it.
Obito loved to see you cum around his shaft, he loved to see the way your whole body bounced on top of him.
Plap
Plap
Plap
his massive hands—the same ones with those thick fingers that had been curling inside you just moments ago, relentlessly hitting that sweet, spongy spot, now wrapped wholly around your hips.
he guided your fast descent, his thumbs digging religiously into your skin to anchor you, or maybe make you go even crazier.
Hornier.
feeling his hot touch against your shivering skin.
you had been leaning forward, letting the rippling heat of his broad, bulky, and solid chest soak into your skin, but he gripped your waist tighter and forced you to sit straight up.
he wanted a clear view.
he wanted to see you in the exact moment your cunt would come undone on his big cock as he bred your tight hole.
“O-obito," you were a moaning mess, your nails biting into his monumental biceps as your core contracted around him feeling him deeper, and deeper.
Oh. So. Fucking. Deep.
"y-y-e-e-s, baby... oh… yeeeesss."
he looked up at you from the pillows, his dark eyes swimming with a blend of pure pleasure and utterly devotion.
His.
His only, forever and ever.
To love,
To feel,
To hold,
To fuck your brains out.
a dark smile tugged at the corner of his lips as you paused for half a second to catch your breath.
"you want me to stop, baby? Yeah?” he teased, a low vibration of his silky voice that rattled straight through your stomach.
"n-no, Obito, p-please," you dragged out the plea, your hips instinctively twitching against his abdomen.
you were not leaving that dick until he made you cum at least 4 times that night.
"good, because I wasn't going to," he murmured, the dark, liquid velvet of his tone completely wrapping around your senses.
He moved one of his hands, slipping down between your thighs, his rough thumb finding that shivering cluster of nerves, the absolute epicenter of your undoing.
So sensitive.
Plap
Plap
Plap
he circled it with pitiless intent, completely stealing the breath from your lungs as a broken sob left your lips.
Gosh, you were so fucking beautiful.
Delicious.
And his.
His to claim, to mark, to scream his name so everyone knew who you belonged to.
you tried to drop your chin, suddenly shy under the raw intensity of his stare, but his hand snapped up, his large fingers smelling like you, your juices, your sex, catching your jaw to tilt your face right back down.
“Eyes on me. Let me see how pretty you look when you come around my dick” he ordered, the weight of his gaze pinning you exactly where he wanted you.
he arched his spine, surging his hips upward to drive his size even deeper.
“Yes baby, let this cock make your cunt feel good, hm?” he praised, his broad chest heaving as he drank in the sight of your wrecked expression.
the pressure of his thumb combined with that impossibly deep angle finally pushed you over the absolute edge.
a blinding wave of white-hot pleasure crashed through your system, tearing a loud, broken cry from your throat.
you came undone against him, your inner walls clamping down violently and milking his length with every trembling spasm. You could feel his thick white seed spilling inside of you.
he groaned, his own control snapping as he felt you unraveling so perfectly around him, in his arms.
“Mine. every single inch of you."
A/n: idk, just a thought I had (will forever blame my last convo with strawberrylina tho), enjoy <3 not proofread tho
feat. Neji Hyuga, Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Kiba Inuzuka
I feel like some of our beloved Naruto men actually would go crazy with blushing when it was about you being close no matter how cool or nonchalant they might act. Let’s start with
Warnings: not proofread, fluff
Neji Hyuga
Gods, he always acts so flat and disciplined. He does not have time for girls, right? Training is hard, the clan does not wait for him to catch up. This man got expectations to full fill. And yet, he always wore this little scowl between his brows when you were closer than 50 cm. It just got worse, when you openly admired him and gave compliments. „You look so smooth, boy.“ Sometimes things like: „Oh my god, your eyes are so pretty.“ or things as: „Can I braid your hair?“ the answer is always no. Why? Because that one time, when you just caught a strand of his walnut sheen hair and twirled it between your fingers. He needed to clear his throat and looked to the ground. Nothing could crack his composure and than there was you. That pink delicate shade that spread over his nose and cheeks. Neji could feel it, the heat of it rushing in his face. And this man tried anything to hope you would not notice how cute he thinks you are.
And Sasuke Uchiha? That’s our ice cold diva. Not a crack in his pale face. Dark eyes always hard or annoyed. And sometimes he even had this look of indifference in his face. You can’t touch him. At least this is what he seems like. Too cool, too composed with this cold aura. Not approachable, right? He does not want to look approachable. And yet, here you are being all so amazed by his sheer existence. Yet it’s not like you’re wooing him. But he feels, his heartbeats doing something weird, everytime you step closer to look in his eyes. Or worse, you stood so close he could smell your perfume. „We‘re being a diva today, huh?“ you joked and yet your eyes…Always your reflecting eyes told him just how pretty you think he was. It was shocking for him, to read your emotions in your face so easily. You did not hide it. And this fucked with his head. Poor boy, as his cheeks heat up when you looked at him, as if he was special. That red bloom dusted his cheeks and did not went unnoticed. As he turned away with something like: „Go somewhere else to be annoying.“
What about Shikamaru Nara? He does not blush. At least I would say so. He always got something smart and sassy to say. He could deadpan you and scratch his head as if nothing was wrong. Maybe an annoyed sigh when someone tried to crack a bad joke. Although I truly believe, he would went oddly dumb as soon as you would join him, on the rooftop to watch the clouds. „A man cannot even enjoy a moment of quiet.“ Eyes would be closed. Maybe a whispered:“Tch, woman.“ that would leave his lips. And yet, everytime when you came around all the smart words died in his throat. As if he only could focus on the way, you liked to make him stop being smart. It just got worse when you then grabbed his head and placed it in your lap and played with his hair. His blush is not over the whole face. Not over his nose. But yet his ears would go pink. So pink you saw it since his hair is always in a ponytail. „Awww, clever boy is being adorable.“ he indeed couldn’t handle that sweetness of you. Not without blushing to the tip of his ears, that told everything.
With Kiba Inuzuka I can swear he is such a blabbermouth. Talking, talking and just more talking. But the flirty kind. He is that cool guy with a huge dog, that girls want to pet and he wears leather jackets. This screams for someone who flirts until he gets true interest back at him. „Hey gorgeous, what you’re up to today?“ leaning forward with that smirk. But with you? Gods, he tried it so many times and everytime he thought he could handle to look in your face, his whole face turned red. Besides his absolute helpless expression. And he can’t remember the next words he wanted to say. It’s so bad that time when you called him a „Good boy.“ his mouth opens as he looked down. So totally in awe and yet so overwhelmed someone thinks he is a good boy. It does things to him, that he does not know how to admit. So the red color creeps up his neck. All the way to his face. No sign of his normal skin tone. Just the redness, because a cute girl he liked actually liked him back.
Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI. Part VII.
Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader
Prompt: Hokage Kakashi request
Summary: You served with Team Ro under Captain Kakashi in the ANBU Black Ops. Over time, the two of you had grown close, and your attraction was undeniable. However, fate led you apart when the Third Hokage assigned you to an indefinite infiltration mission into the Royal family of Kirigakure. You assume the identity of Lady Akari for the next eight years, enduring your new life as a court spy until you put a new successor on the throne. Now that your mission is complete, you can return home to the Leaf Village. But your past lover, Kakashi Hatake, is the new Hokage. Much has changed over the last eight years: His cold heart has warmed, yet yours has been trapped in darkness. Is there any chance he can love you as he once did?
Inspired by Overgrown- FELIVAND
Masterlist.
Tags: ANBU Reader, Reader with trauma, mentions of PTSD and trauma, canon typical violence, happy ending, light angst, sorry but your parents are dead :(, future smut, fluff, flashbacks will be italicized, mentions of trauma
It’s been six years since I regressed,
But I still kiss upon your chest.
My flaws lay to bare when I undress,
I know this should hurt me less.
The Sixth Hokage.
Kakashi Hatake.
You read over his name at least thirty times before deciding to take a seat. Over eight years had gone by, missing the destruction of your home and an entire war, as you meticulously infiltrated the royal family of Kirigakure to root out dissenters. When your mission was finally successful, by putting a hand-picked heir on the throne, your orders were to return home.
Home.
Is it still home?
A great deal has changed in eight years.
You assumed the identity of Lady Akari at the age of 20, filtering out your emotions and personal thoughts, completely transforming yourself into a foreign dignitary loyal to the throne. For eight years, you knew nothing else besides the royal game: a twisted tale of espionage, lies, and trying to determine friend from foe. You managed to successfully navigate Princess Ayame to the throne, having made countless ethically questionable decisions to ensure it.
Because failure was not an option.
That’s what got you through months of grueling imprisonment and torture at the hands of the Divine Syndicate: a group of powerful nobles allied together to profit from perpetual conflict, aiming to install a puppet ruler.
Rooting them out of the royal game was your primary goal: to disrupt their plan to usurp the throne. It was a delicate task, having to earn the loyalty and trust of countless nobles and their acquaintances while creating your own spy network from nothing.
You accomplished your mission, but lost yourself along the way.
Wearing a mask for that long takes a toll on you. The lines blur between where you begin and where Lady Akari ends. By the end of this, you don’t even know yourself anymore.
That’s what makes your gut clench as you reread your debriefing scroll. Would Kakashi even recognize you? Remember you?
Regardless, your journey home has been a long time coming.
As you pack your bags, you stare blankly at your porcelain ANBU mask before hiding it in layers of silk.
You haven’t been ANBU Sparrow for almost a decade.
Do you really want to trade one mask for another?
. . . . . .
The sun is hot and high in the sky.
The afternoon rays beat down on you as you lay in the back of a merchant's cart, having bribed your way to an easy journey home. Surrounded by the steady tread of hooves and chirping birds, you tilted your sunhat over your eyes, casting a small triangle of shade, ignoring the muffled complaints of cheap mercenaries who were guarding the caravan.
You felt a strange sense of peace being nobody, just a girl with some ryo to get back home. Nobody in the caravan even knew you were a ninja, and it was better that way.
Being in civilian clothing after years of heavy satin and tight corsets reminded you that you were human. Your light sundress feels foreign around your thighs, allowing the sun to grace newly uncovered skin. No heavy jewels rested on your head or neck, no fancy updo tangled your hair, and layers of makeup didn’t cover your face. You felt naked . And it was enlightening.
The lull of the cart being pulled by bulls creates a soothing rhythm as your mind wanders, staring aimlessly at the shifting treeline. Despite your best efforts, Kakashi remains at the forefront of your mind, causing you to overanalyze your last moments together, anticipating your reunion hopelessly.
Hope had completely drained from his eyes.
He stared down at you, his face fully uncovered, silver hair a frayed mess.
Beautiful.
And broken.
You couldn’t stand to look at him with that disappointment in his eyes. That image is forever burned into your soul, no matter how much you urged it out of your mind. Hot tears began to spill from your eyes, despite every fiber in your being attempting to hold them back.
Kakashi didn’t handle weakness well, and you didn’t want him to see yours, now laid bare before him. You expected him to scold you for crying, encouraging you to ignore your pain as he ignored his. Or for him to shut down, to close the door on you and build every wall that you managed to destroy back up.
But instead, you felt shaky arms wrap around you, pulling you into his modest apartment as you silently weep. The dossier in your arms fell to the floor, covering his doorway with a plethora of classified documents that lay forgotten as he carried you to his bedroom.
You two were never official, always private trysts, but laced with passion and desperation for each other. He was your Captain, your companion, your friend. Though you never spoke it, you both knew you loved each other. Kakashi always struggled to show his emotions, but there were many quiet nights that they slipped through, allowing you to see the man that was hiding inside.
But you didn’t have enough time.
After being debriefed by Lord Third and the Advisors, you practically ran to Kakashi’s door, throat dry with suppressed emotion. You both understood the mission. You’re going alone. And you can’t return until the mission is completed.
You are leaving.
Indefinitely.
Kakashi had a single night with you. By dawn, you would be gone.
He didn’t waste a single moment that night, not giving you a chance to sleep or cry; instead, he replaced your goodbyes with urgent kisses and bruising touches, gifting them to you as a final reminder.
In the morning, you parted ways at the gate while the crickets chirped.
“So,” the merchant drawled suddenly as he guided the ox forward, pulling you from your thoughts. “You’re from the Leaf Village, huh?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, ignoring the slight twitch of irritation that stirred inside you.
“That’s a real long way to travel by yourself, missy.” He threw you a look while he wiped the sweat from his forehead. The man was old and kind, but had the habit of asking too many questions. Perhaps he was bored, or worried that you might rob him at nightfall; either way, you had to stifle a groan before you responded.
“I’m not worried,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes dangerously as he swallowed, taking a hint.
No one spoke to you again until after the sun set. The caravan stopped to make camp, everyone gathering in a circle around a large bonfire in the woods. You stayed away from the main group, opting to lounge in the canopy above and secretly analyze the space below.
However, a few of the men noticed your absence, hollering up at you after the flask had been passed around.
“Whatchu’ doin up there, girl?” A tall, squirrely man shouted, egged on by his friends.
You opted for silence, not bothering to respond to their insolence. This was the problem with mercenaries— they have no honor and even less sense.
The silence only goads them, earning some disgruntled responses from the sober members of the caravan. It wasn’t until the insults started that your lip twitched with annoyance, deciding that an altercation might get some pent-up emotions out.
God knows you could use that.
“I know you hear us, bitch.” One spits towards you as he throws a rock into the fire.
“Stop playing hard to—”
With an irritated groan, you jump down from the branch and land between two of the men, both falling as they try to dodge you.
“I’m only going to say this once,” you warn as you give them an icy glare, lip pulled up in a snarl. “Shut the fuck up.”
“You aren’t scarin’ no—”
Before the man beside you can finish, your foot collides with his sternum, sending him flying further into the woods with a sickening thud.
“Last warning.” You conclude dangerously with an emotionless face, quickly resuming your spot back on the tree as they watched on with shocked faces.
This time you're blessed with silence.
. . . . . .
The rain poured heavily, cascading all around you as you zoned out. The only things that existed were you and the frogs that bellowed in the nearby creek. You were sitting on the ground, knees pulled against your chest as you breathed slowly. The cenotaph was always quiet around this time in the morning, and the rain ensured that few stragglers would be passing through.
You could hear each drop ricochet off the marbled stone of the monument, joining the puddle that formed below on the uneven ground. You closed your eyes as a swift breeze moved through the trees, causing goosebumps to spread across your wet skin. A shiver moves through your body, and you can’t stave off the violent shudder that comes next.
“Cold?”
You look up, squinting your eyes, expecting the rain to pelt your face. Standing over you is your Captain, effectively blocking the rain as he peers down at you with his Sharingan eye closed, brows raised.
“K-Kakashi—” you stutter dumbly as you scramble to your feet, silently cursing yourself as you realize that you’re absolutely soaked.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.” He says simply, his voice light and devoid of emotion.
“Could say the same for you.”
You were both lying. You were here for your parents, and he was here for his comrades. The two of you had fallen into a strange syncretic pattern– catching the other on their way out with a simple nod.
A nod that turned into a smile. And a smile that led him to stay with you, being a strong, silent presence that guarded as your fingers traced over several names etched into stone.
He rarely said anything, but he didn’t need to.
You both stare at each other in silence for a moment, the rain echoing in your ears along with your heartbeat. His expression softens slightly as he sighs, motioning you forward.
“Let’s get you out of the rain,” he instructs as he begins walking back toward town.
You follow his lead, quickly falling in step beside him as you attempt to keep up with his wide gait. “I’m fine, you know.”
“Questionable.”
You roll your eyes, a gentle smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. “It’s just my daily mid-life crisis,” you murmur as you chew your bottom lip, feeling his eye on you.
“You’re not even 20.” His voice is flat, but it’s the most you’ll get as a joke out of him.
You throw him a look from the corner of your eye before abruptly grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards a vine-covered walkway, coming up with a plan. Kakashi glances down at you with furrowed brows as you lead him through a cloister of buildings leading towards the Leaf Nursery. The two of you burst through the glass doors into the greenhouse, greeted by the warm and dry air inside. Stifling a sigh of relief, you turn to face him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes as you wring out your hair.
“Can I ask you a question, Captain?”
His eye narrows as he considers, immediately suspicious, knowing how you are. “I suppose I can’t stop you.”
Well, good enough, I guess. “What’s that book you’re always reading?”
A knowing smile played on your lips as his eye slightly widened. A subtle blush creeps up his cheeks, just barely visible under the mask.
“Uh-h, it’s um–” He stammers as he breaks eye contact, his hand coming to the back of his neck as his mind racks for a response. “It’s just a… romance series.”
You give him an incredulous look, one hand on your hip. “Romance? They’re pure smut and you know it!” You jab an accusatory finger into his chest, backing him against the nursery wall.
Kakashi looks almost terrified, something you’ve never seen before. It almost makes you feel bad, but you can’t hold back your girlish giggle as he stares down at you nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly below his mask.
“I’m just kidding, the only reason I know is cause I’ve read all of them.” A cheeky smile breaks out across your face, and Kakashi lets out a heavy sigh, unsure if he should feel at ease. “Oh come on,” you continue to tease. “I see you reading them at least four times a day, not like it’s a secret or anything.” Kakashi glares at you, but there’s no heat behind it.
“Is that what you dragged me in here to ask me?” He asked, his voice slightly shaky.
“Nope,” you grabbed his hand again and pulled him further inside the nursery, towards the blocked off lower level. He follows you apprehensively, noticing that devious look returning.
“Where are you–”
Past the fruit trees and down two flights of stairs, you get to a set of locked double doors, testing their strength with a quiet push. Kakashi is watching you with an exasperated expression, and you should take it as a sign to stop, but something emboldened you. Your Captain allows you to provoke him, and lately you’ve been wondering why he lets you get away with things others wouldn’t dare. You may be emotionally constipated, but you’re not dumb. You wanted to test the waters, and what better way to do that than by committing a crime in front of him?
Kakashi makes no move to stop you as you crouch down and pull a pin from your damp and ruined hair, twisting it into the lock and popping it open swiftly. You peer back behind you to see Kakashi’s face shift, a mix of amusement, concern, and curiosity warring inside him.
“Just follow me, I’ve done this hundreds of times.” You say casually as you hold the door open.
“Is this what you do in your free time? Break into government buildings? Hundreds of times?” Kakashi follows behind you, becoming immediately aware of how the building seems to age; the doors are lined with oil lamps, and the wall crumbles as if it may give way at any moment.
“Only the cool ones,” you smile as your pace slows, scanning over the random array of wooden doors littering the underground space.
You come to a standstill, glancing between two on opposite ends, the old doors sealed shut as if they hadn’t been opened in centuries.
Kakashi sighs as he runs his hand through his hair, finding it wet and tangled, much like yours. “Don’t tell me we’re lost.”
“Have some faith in me, Captain.” You chide as you ultimately pick the door on the left, leading to a narrow tunnel that feels like a mine shaft.
The space was narrow and tight. Kakashi was slightly crouched over, following so close behind you that his breath felt hot against your neck. The only source of light was a small ball of flame you summoned in your palm, casting an array of shadows down around you.
Places like this would scare any normal person, but luckily, you aren’t normal.
And apparently, neither is Kakashi, as he blindly follows you into a mysterious tunnel without question.
If that wasn’t a sign that he trusted you, then what is?
After a few minutes and a couple of awkward stumbles, a red door emerged, carved with various sigils and runes.
You turn to face him, holding the flame delicately as you look up at him through your lashes. “Are you ready?”
“I have no idea.” He answers honestly, his breathing controlled as if he were preparing for battle.
“Relax, Kakashi.” You gently wrap your hand in his and extinguish the flame, leaving you in pitch darkness before you wrench the ancient door open.
Light immediately flooded in, revealing a large underground grove hidden beneath the village.
Kakashi is at a loss for words as you drop his hand, taking in the hidden paradise. A small creek ran through the overgrown gardens, with sunlight breaking through from the vaulted ceiling. Large roots dripped moss and were covered in colorful fungi. An array of thick vines drape over everything, concealing ancient stone statues and benches, reclaiming them— an entire sanctuary, trapped beneath stone.
Many moments went by before he looked back at you, still in awe.
“How did you...?” He trailed off as he watched you bend over to pick a red flower, twirling it in your fingers before smiling back at him.
“I didn’t like rules as a kid,” you say nostalgically. “So when the elders said I couldn’t come down here, the first thing I did was break in.” Kakashi takes in your story, not looking surprised as you continue. “Supposedly, the tunnels were built by Hashirama as emergency escape routes in case the village was ever attacked. I guess they just got lost with time.”
“I didn’t know any of this existed.”
You take a step closer to Kakashi, peering up at him as you place the flower in his hand. “Practically no one knows. I think we’re the only people who’ve been down here in ages. I haven’t had much time to come down here since I joined the Black Ops, though.”
“Why did you show me this?”
His question stuns you. Why did you bring him here? Outside of messing with him, the answer wasn’t immediately clear as you stared at him blankly, searching the depths of your mind for an explanation that made sense. “I… trust you.”
It was the only thing that came to mind, besides the obvious ‘I wanted to see how far you’d go with me,’ but you could never tell your Captain that. And it wasn’t a lie. You do trust Kakashi. Your Captain is a complex man, feared and ruthless, always guarding himself from the world. But you see through him, through the small cracks of his walls, just like the grove.
You watch Kakashi swallow, his expression unreadable. Anxiety pools in your belly, fearing you said something wrong. You open your mouth to apologize, an embarrassed heat rising to your cheeks as Kakashi cuts you off.
“Thank you.”
Your brows knit together as he takes a step towards you, your face only inches away from his chest as you gaze up at him.
“For trusting me.”
Your breath hitches as he places the red flower behind your ear, brushing several strands of hair along with it. Feeling his fingertips gently graze your face causes you to shiver involuntarily, his thumb brushing ever so slightly down your cheek. Goose flesh follows, clear evidence of what his touch does to you. Kakashi says nothing, only studies you as his unscarred eye watches intently as you try to control your breath.
But you were at a loss for words. All your constant prodding and teasing, only for him to render you speechless with a single action. And he knows it, by the way he clenches his jaw, as if he is trying to convince himself not to move. Always the epitome of self-control, though in this moment, it appeared to falter.
“Are you scared?”
You don’t know what possessed you to ask him that, but it rolled off your tongue before you could stop it. Something flashed over his face, causing him to look away with a sigh.
He’s silent for a moment, staring at the bubbling creek as he ponders. “I… don’t really know how to say it.” His response is honest and straightforward, having never been the one to confess his feelings until it's too late.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you nearly whisper as you move beside him, squeezing his hand.
Kakashi doesn’t respond, except tightening his grip on your hand when you lean your head into his arm. The two of you stood there for an unknown amount of time, staring at nothing and everything, minds entangled as they wander. Your fingers laced with his, rooting him to reality as he questions himself, searching for answers that may not be there. There was a war going on behind those calculated eyes, and as much as you wished to help, you knew it was a battle with himself.
Because he is scared.
Scared to lose.
He doesn’t have to say it. It’s written all over his face, despite it being mostly covered. So you offer solace with your presence, a firm reminder pressed against him that you’re still here.
Abruptly, he turns to you, his shoulders dropping just a hair.
“I’m shocked you haven’t gotten caught yet.”
His words cause you to laugh out loud, echoing throughout the chamber, as you gently roll your eyes and tug him along further into the grove. “Don’t jinx my luck, Captain.” He lets you guide him, hand in hand, to the center of the atrium. “Besides, it’s the perfect place to read smut.”
“Brat,” he counters with a huff as you smile up at him.
A beam of filtered light hits your face, and for a moment, he feels as if he can’t breathe. Here he is, standing on forbidden ground, holding hands with his subordinate. Part of him insists that he’s made a series of bad decisions and should retreat before he makes more, while another craves vulnerability. Peace. Touch.
“Oh, I just have one rule.” You say as you head towards another door, earning a raised brow as he listens. “No dates here, unless it’s with me.”
His cheeks run hot at your insinuation, and before he has a chance to stumble over his words, you’re leading him into another tunnel.
. . . . . .
You were on your final stretch home.
If you had to guess, you were maybe three to four hours out at most. The last two days among the caravan had been tense, the summer heat making everyone fluster easily. At the old man's insistence, everyone pulled over to a nearby waterfall, giving the animals the chance to hydrate and cool down. The delay was annoying, but you chose to keep silent and head to the far side of the basin, kicking off your sandals before stepping into the pool. You waded into the water until it reached your thighs, pulling up your white sundress to keep it dry.
There were splashes on the opposite side of the water where the rowdy group of mercenaries decided to follow suit. You watched them cautiously, hoping they would keep their distance and avoid another situation like the one the other night.
But of course, that was too much to hope for.
You made your way back to the edge of the basin to retrieve your shoes, stopping for a second when you hear a small splash. As you turn, you see the shadow of a man behind you, his arms outstretched as if to pull you back into the water. Ducking to avoid him, you step back and stumble on the rocky edge as the man disappears into smoke— a shadow clone. You expect to fall into the water, but instead you feel two hands clamp around your waist.
“You should be more careful, girl.”
Immediately, you push off the figure, stumbling backward into the grass as the mercenary laughs. It was the man you kicked the other night, likely taking his chance to get back at you for embarrassing him. Apparently, he also knows some jutsu.
Figures.
You get back to your feet, cursing him for dirtying your sundress as you steady your glare. The mercenary only smirks, a chorus of laughs and shouts coming from the other side of the waterfall. The stare off lasts only a few seconds before the mercenary moves closer, attempting to circle you like prey. He tries to buck up at you to scare you, hoping to see you flinch. It was childish and had no effect on you; your only response was boring your eyes deeper into his, calculating his every move.
“This won’t go the way you think,” you warn as you slightly adjust your stance.
“What are you going to do? Kick me again? I can take it, I like it rough,” he growls as his smile turns sinister, causing your muscles to tighten. “That’s right, you should be scared.” He takes two steps closer, attempting to back you up against the tree.
Your mind flips through scenarios, trying to determine the best way to handle this. Sure, you could slaughter every man here and make your way back home on your own, drenched in blood, and make a dramatic entrance. But that wasn’t your style. The mercenary takes another step forward, causing your brain to work faster. Only one person was advancing, so you decided to make an example of him to deter the others from doing the same.
He moves to take another step, but you’ve closed the distance before he can finish, swiping a leg at his feet to take him out. He predictably falls on his back with a thud, cursing loudly and obscenely as the rest of the caravan gathers to observe the commotion.
Before the mercenary can sit up, you’re on top of him, straddling his chest as you lay devastating blows to his face. Each hit pushes his head further into the mud, spraying a mix of blood and dirt around you. His nose caved quickly, his curses muddled into gargled cries as you continued to beat him. His face became the victim of your pent-up rage and frustration, more disfigured with each blow.
You may have gone a little overboard, screaming curses at him as you pummeled his face into the ground, stopping only when you hear an authoritative voice cut through the gasps and murmurs.
“What’s going on here?”
Your attention snaps from the mercenary to the mysterious voice with an intense glare, ready to unleash your fury on the next target.
As your eyes meet, you freeze.
He’s a Leaf Jonin, with scruffy brown hair and an unmistakable faceplate. You stand to face him, watching as his brows knit together as he looks over you, face contorting with shock.
“Sparrow?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s loud enough for you to hear.
Without another word, you rush over to him and throw yourself in his arms, wrapping your legs around his torso, squeezing the air from his lungs as he captures you. “Tenzo! You’ve gotten so tall!” You lean back to squish his cheeks like you used to do back in Team Ro, smiling ear to ear as his face flushes red. It was only then that you noticed the three teenagers behind him gawking in various states of confusion.
You unwrap your legs as Tenzo guides you back to the ground, looking at you with matched bafflement. “I didn’t know if I'd ever see you again,” he mumbled with a sincere expression.
“Yeah, me neither. But I guess the stars finally aligned. All it took was the capture of almost every jinchuriki, the destruction of the Leaf, and the Fourth Ninja War.” The last part came out more bitter than intended, still dealing with the mixed emotions you repressed for the last eight years.
“Uh, does anyone know what’s happening?” The blonde boy behind Tenzo asks, scratching his head.
“Oh, uh, just call me Yamato until we get back to the village. I’ll give you the rundown later,” Tenzo leans to whisper in your ear as you nod with a small smile. Ignoring the blonde kid, Tenzo’s eyes flash between your bloodied dress and the unconscious man lying in the dirt with a look of concern. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” Your smile spreads as you wipe your knuckles on your already soiled dress. “Oh, I’m fine. I’m not sure if the same can be said for that creep, though.” Tenzo raises a brow, his worry replaced with casual shock as he takes in your appearance. Barefoot, bloody, and a smile on your face– at least that much hasn’t changed from Team Ro.
“How about you travel with us? We're headed home ourselves, if you want better company.” Tenzo suggests as the rest of the caravan watches you wearily.
“I’d love that, but I have an entire wagon full of… things.” You drift off as a harsh realization hits you. Your apartment was surely destroyed with the village, along with every semblance you had of your life before you left.
Tenzo must have watched your face fall, as he quickly offered to use the remainder of their transportation scroll for your belongings. Happy to escape the brutes of the merchant caravan, you fall into a comfortable place with Yamato, answering the barrage of questions you got from Naruto. Most of the time, your answer was something along the lines of ‘I’m not at liberty to discuss that,’ earning a huff from him before he throws another question at you.
“That’s enough, Naruto, she’s just coming home from an eight-year mission. I’m sure the last thing she wants to do is be interrogated.” Tenzo interjects with a stern voice.
“Fine, fine. But I’m not through with you, lady!” Naruto turns around dramatically before running over to Sakura, presumably to annoy her next.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about Kakashi,” Tenzo hinted with a lower voice, watching your face as you chew your bottom lip.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s absolutely thrilled.” A small smile tugs at your lips as you clasp your hands behind your back.
Tenzo laughs lightly; the sound feels familiar yet different, stirring something inside you. Longing. To be around friends again, people you can trust, your people. That’s when the true homesickness settled in.
“You’re definitely right about that. He had some time to prepare, though. After Danzo’s death, he was chosen to be the Sixth Hokage, but then Tsunade awoke from her coma. Then of course…”
“The war... Yeah, I heard about that when I was at court. I wish I had been there to help with the Akatsuki problem. And then everything about Danzo and his involvement with the Uchiha massacre.” You feel the teenager's eyes move to you at the mention of the Uchiha’s, immediately understanding that it’s still a sensitive subject.
Tenzo’s eyes softened as your shoulders bumped into his, your gaze falling to your feet. “Kakashi will be happy to see you.”
You look at him then, a nervous smile coming to your face. “I don’t know, I feel like I’m a little rough around the edges. He’s the god damn Hokage now. Meanwhile, I barely know how to be a regular person.”
His brows furrow, but he doesn’t question you, knowing now is not the time or place. “He’s changed a lot since you’ve seen him, and I mean that in a good way!” He laughs nervously, trying to put you at ease.
It doesn’t.
You’ve had to be a cutthroat, charming dignitary of the high court for the last eight years of your life. You wish you could say you haven’t changed, but then again, would he like you as you used to be? What about now?
You curse yourself, trying to silence your thoughts. You assume he’s even interested. You’ve heard nothing of his love life besides the occasional noble family complaining about him turning down their marriage proposal. That was pretty standard. However, it was rare for people to know his business; he was a very private man. Few people have seen his actual face.
At least you can say you’re among them.
The rest of the journey home went well, but your feet hurt from the short amount of walking, having grown accustomed to your cushy life in court. Though you are still a highly skilled ninja, there's going to be a mild adjustment period. You feel as if your entire life has been uprooted and dropped into a place you used to know.
That feeling was confirmed when you approached the gate to the village, your heart almost coming to a complete stop, only moving again when Tenzo clasps an arm around your shoulder. You were thankful to have a friend by your side as you came home after feeling alone for so long. Tenzo had always been more keen on your emotions, picking up in the slight inflections of your voice and twitches in your face, since he was a young man. You’re pretty sure his attention to emotions was rooted in trauma, but that was the case for most shinobi.
“Don’t worry, there are a lot of people here who missed you. And if there’s anything you need, we’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” Tenzo consoles you as he squeezes your shoulder, hoping to muster your smile.
It works, even though your stomach is doing flips and your mind is running wild. Seeing Kotetsu and Izumo, both fully fledged Jonin now, made you feel better. You made sure to ruffle Kotetsu’s hair and pull Izumo’s headband over his eyes before you left, following Tenzo to the Hokage’s tower and waving goodbye to the kids.
Though the city has been rebuilt, some aspects are exactly the same. The aura of the village was warm and inviting, just as it was when you left. Many things have been modernized, and there are far more buildings than you remember; you can’t help but swivel your head to map everything. Tenzo helped rebuild most of the village and guided you, explaining the significant changes that had occurred and where the districts were located.
The closer you got to the Hokage’s tower, the more you felt your throat tighten. You could hear your own pulse, distracting you from Tenzo’s words as he led you inside. The air conditioning felt amazing, bringing you the only sense of relief as you both climbed the stairs, each step feeling heavier and heavier as you trailed behind your friend. As you approached the office door, you could hear voices talking over one another, a chaotic mix.
That did nothing to calm your nerves; they went into a frenzy, and you worried that you had arrived at a bad time. Pausing by the door, you felt Tenzo’s hand come to the small of your back, gently leading you inside.
“It’s always like this. He was only appointed a few weeks ago, so it’s been hectic. I’m sure he’ll be happy for a break.”
“Break? What do you mean?” You ask frantically in a hushed voice as you’re practically pushed inside the office.
Directly in front of you is Kakashi himself, wearing casual wear with no headband and slumped in his chair, head in his hand as he stares at a piece of paper. No one even noticed you two enter, too engrossed in an avid conversation about the defense budget. A young man who looked like Shikaku stood by the Hokage’s desk with his arms crossed, looking visibly annoyed while debating with a black-haired woman on the other side.
The first person to meet your eyes was Genma, a familiar face that leaned against the wall directly behind Kakashi, looking more bored than the Hokage.
Standing beside you, Tenzo clears his throat to announce his presence. “Lord Sixth, we have returned successfully, and I have brought along a straggler.”
“I told you not to call me that,” Kakashi says casually, unmoving. Genma rolls his eyes and lightly kicks the back of Kakashi’s chair. With a huff, he puts down the paper, briefly glancing up from his desk before returning to the document.
Your heart begins to sink, but before it drops completely, his gaze immediately darts back to you, eyes widening as he abruptly stands, causing everyone’s eyes to land on you. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, chewing your bottom lip nervously as Tenzo chuckles knowingly beside you.
