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 ˘͈♡)
cw; oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, established relationship …
sometimes you swear your boyfriend would rather die than vocalise his pleasure. it’s like as soon as you touch him, his mouth is sealed shut besides the semi-regular heavy breathing and panting.
when he did occasionally let a groan or a grunt slip out, he refused to make eye contact with you after — seemingly too embarrassed to meet your gaze. no matter how many times you reassure sasuke, telling him how hot it is when he makes sound, he refuses to budge.
that was going to change tonight.
sasuke’s thick, veiny cock is buried deep in your throat, eyes watering as you choke on every inch, desperate to make him feel so good that he can’t keep those delicious sounds from you.
you’re sucking him more passionately than ever before, drool seeping out from the corners of your mouth, cheeks hollowed to suck him in tightly. your hands grip his thighs for stability as you look up at him with glassy eyes, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth as a result.
sasuke’s fingers thread through your hair, gently encouraging you — chest visibly heaving from bated breaths and the struggle of holding back. you were making this extremely hard for him.
still making firm eye contact with him, you slow your movements for a moment, releasing him up until his tip, swirling your tongue around it. then, you slide all the way back down until your nose is buried in the coarse hairs at his base.
his jaw clenches.
"mnn," you hum around him, sending vibrations throughout his length, beginning to bob down faster, messier. you treat your boyfriend’s silence like a challenge, swallowing around him, brushing your tongue along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock.
his hand grips your hair.
you were making progress, every passing second making it harder for sasuke to hold back. "quit it," he begins to pant, sweat beading on his brow. you pull back again, using your hand to replace your mouth, "quit…what?" you reply, acting coy.
looking up at him still, knees beginning to ache against the floor, you lick a long stripe up his length, hand remaining on his base — mouth beginning to move in time with it, providing dual stimulation that makes his mouth gape open.
you keep going. sucking him deeper, wetter, his tip hitting the back of your throat, lewd, wet sounds filling the silence.
his thighs clench under your palms.
you double down, watching your boyfriend struggle, his hand gripping your hair so tightly that your scalp began to burn. you moan around him again, gagging obscenely, utterly determined to get what you want.
and you do.
a low, sharp groan tears from his throat, head thrown back in pleasure, a prominent vein visible on his neck from the tension in his body. you grin against his length, utterly pleased with yourself, yet still certain you can get more from him.
you refuse to ease up, hand and mouth still working him perfectly. "fuck," sasuke mutters, hips beginning to thrust forward, heavy balls slapping against your chin that was wet from saliva.
then, he moans.
not too loud, yet not too quiet, either — like it had been dragged out of him against his will.
his hips jerk again, black hair falling against his face — body becoming rigid. "gonna-" sasuke begins, cut off by another uncontrollable moan, the sound making your panties soak further.
his cock pulses against your tongue, his warm load spilling across it, most of it it the back of your throat, making you choke and splutter quietly. you swallow around him, drinking down every drop, revelling in success.
sasuke pants as he comes down, feeling your tongue soothe him through the aftershocks, breaths short and sharp as he struggles to control them.
"fine… you win," he says, not so much irritated, but defeated.
"i always do," you tease, finally pulling away, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
a/n; bout time i wrote some sasuke!! (18+ sasuke ofc)- also i don’t remember where the dividers ate from pls tag the creator if u know !!
༄ Tags: pre-relationship, avoidant-attachment style, friends to lovers, explicit sexual content (18+), sex pollen trope, dubcon because of that, multiple sex positions, oral sex (both receiving), squirt, aftercare.
༄ Pairing: Kakashi x Reader
Summary: Techniques that emit pollen to knock enemies unconscious are not so rare. Still, it was uncommon—almost unheard of—to come face to face with another type of it during an ANBU mission assigned to both of you. Sexy no Jutsu was less damaging in this case; it didn’t force a bond that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. Or should it have?
༄ A/N: It didn’t passed much time since Kakashi invaded my mind again *—* I was inspired by @teachlover for this trope since she also wrote for Yamato! Today's lesson: Plants.🌺
≈ 9.6k words
🍃
“How long until we get there?!"
You exhaled irritably. Your face twisted into a frown as you tilted your head, shoving aside a massive leaf because the man in front of you couldn’t be bothered to hold it back. What was it called again? Giant Knotweed? You vaguely remembered because the name sounded strange enough to stick.
You retain odd things for some reason. Though insufficient, maybe it would’ve helped to know more about plants, considering you were surrounded by a savage forest.
This megaherb or whatever it is grows along forest edges, where you are right now — this forest, more specifically. You were already deep in the mountains surrounding Konoha. Well, near Konoha. The Forest of Death. Sounds creepy, right? It isn’t. After all, the Chunin Exams took place here. How scared could a child possibly get?
Alright, a highly dangerous circular forest ringed by a metallic fence that is known to be inhabited by massive predatory creatures doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Thinking about it more carefully, Konoha’s leadership might be slightly masochistic.
Kakashi glanced over his shoulder, his tone neutral.
“Already complaining?"
You rolled your eyes. Asshole.
It was colder than it should have been for autumn. The perfect season for the short, delicate purple perennials that bloom around this time. There were dozens of them, but none seemed dangerous. Neither you nor Kakashi noticed the creamy-yellow pollen bursting from them, leaving a heavily scented trail behind the path you had just walked.
Soon enough, you felt as if something had widened your blood vessels, improving blood flow. The rush came out of nowhere, and it had nothing to do with chakra. Maybe your body was adjusting to the forest’s conditions?
Your nose scrunched, your steps feeling heavier.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Hm? Based on what exactly?”
“On my intuition.” You could hear his skeptical thoughts. “I swear. It’s... Forget it. Can you just trust me?”
“Of course. What’s the purpose without trust between shinobi?”
“Fuck you…” Your words faded as something else caught your attention.
The yōkai tree that looked like an ordinary tree made you step closer to it, hands on your knees as you leaned toward it.
“Wow, this actually looks cool.”
Kakashi grabbed your arm sharply at the same moment the plant moved slowly toward you, slowly as if it were hiding its urgency.
You glared at him as he dragged you along behind him. Kakashi looked completely unfazed as he spoke, his hand leaving your skin.
“If you want to be drained of blood, I’ll let you go.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Vampiric tree. It’s said to bleed like a living creature. They usually grow on former battlefields.”
You raised an eyebrow as you followed him, murmuring to yourself.
“And why are they here?”
Kakashi shrugged. He looked around the vast wilderness. The unnatural layers of canopy blocked out most of the sunlight, casting the forest floor into a permanent, gloomy shadow.
The undergrowth was incredibly dense, making navigation difficult and concealing potential threats. He spoke while trying to choose the most reliable path.
“That’s why your intuition tells you something’s wrong?”
You shook your head. His teasing tone irritated you enough to maintain your annoyed expression.
You looked ahead before him, analyzing the path he had chosen as both of you lowered your heads beneath the massive plants, until you spotted one you recognized from its characteristics. A Keyaki? A deciduous tree native to Japan, with a vase-shaped crown and intensely serrated leaves. In a forest like this, you weren’t sure it was much different from barbed wire if it made impact with little skin.
“Kakashi.”
He slowed his pace until you moved in front of him, cutting away the serrated leaves with the kunai that was rested next to your knees, before they could brush against his body. When you turned to glance up at him, Kakashi’s eyes lingered across your face.
“Move away. It has thorns. Don’t touch it.”
He held your gaze for a second, and it left you dizzy, momentarily unaware of where you were until you turned around and continued walking ahead of him. Kakashi murmured something in response, but you ignored it.
“Mhm. Thank you.”
At least he isn’t Mr. Perfect, you thought.
Still, your focus wasn’t here—not on him, not even on yourself. It felt as though it had drifted somewhere else entirely. Something was happening, but what? Was this how you felt as a child during those exams? No, this was completely different. This was unexplored territory.
You glanced up, jumping onto a tree as you followed Kakashi, barely looking back at whatever little creature had just let out a growl, hidden closer to both of you. You didn’t want to know.
You weren’t far from the other side. Shouldn’t the destination be closer?
In fact, the problem was that you were only in the middle of the forest.
🍃
Being an ANBU member was not as validating as it seemed, despite being handpicked by the village head, chosen for your individual capabilities and specialized kills. There were apparently no true ranks within the ANBU either, only divisions. Kakashi's and yours was Team Ro. Well, before that, the two of you had a brief stint in Root—the worse one. You suspected that's why you were assigned to this mission specifically. Having served in both worlds, the mission didn't seem too dangerous, nor too easy.
The decision to remain in ANBU was because it was an elite tactical squad operating under the direct command of the Hokage. Not because you liked the Hokage or anything. You couldn't stand him. Still, after Orochimaru's infiltration during the Chunin Exams, no one wanted to let all of it go to waste without reinforcing the village's safety. That's why both of you needed to find one of his hideouts, to gather more intel. Once inside this massive forest spanning a 10-kilometer radius, Orochimaru had shed his disguise, blended into the dense, perilous wilderness, and infiltrated the kids' exam. One of them was now literally cursed because of it.
Another reason you remained on this team was because Kakashi was its captain. Annoying as it sounded to admit out loud, he was a good ninja with far more experience in the shinobi world. Respectable, right? Yet, Kakashi managed to get under your skin in more ways than one. First, every time he spoke, he manages to always irritated you somehow. And the other... you weren't particularly proud of. To admit something like this? You will probably need a very hard drug to do it so.
Coming back, you knew you should head northwest of Konoha. That was where other comrades had found traces suggesting one of Orochimaru's hideouts might be located, roughly 300 to 500 kilometers away, approximately a two-to-three-day journey on foot for a standard shinobi, somewhere near his possible base in the Land of Grass.
As you tried to gather your thoughts, mapping the route and sensing your geographical position, you could feel your mind blurring, barely finishing a sentence, let alone formulating a plan. What the hell is happening? Should you take break? Since when do you need a break? For what? Walking 1 day and a half? Impossible. It was more concering when the shadow that just appeared before you was noticed only as it passed by, not beforehand as it should have been. You watched the next movements as though time had slowed, seeing a hand place an explosive tag on a tree. Kakashi had disappeared long ago, and you…only now, you reacted.
You exhaled, trying to regain some semblance of control, hands pressed against the ground, one knee striking the earth. Your reflexes still responded, tilting your head instantly once—a shuriken flew past. Twice—the second shuriken followed as you vanished from the spot again. How many they are?
From his concealed position, Kakashi analyzed the situation, counting five shadows so far. They wore dark robes, their faces hidden beneath hoods that obscured nearly everything. Five? Wasn't the Sound Five team eliminated during the Chunin Exams? Or were they Orochimaru's clones, meant to throw you into confusion? More importantly, where were you? He hadn't sensed your chakra nearby the way he had expected after the surprise attack.
Kakashi was certain they were getting closer to the source, that they were on the right trail. Otherwise, this ambush wouldn't exist. He quickly glanced toward the sudden noise, tracking the movements around him until he saw the scene unfolding before him—or rather, beneath him, since he was perched in a tree.
Two shadows farther back. One shadow closer, on the adjacent branch, moving toward you horizontally. Two more on another parallel branch.
The shock Kakashi felt came when, unexpectedly, one of the figures in the rear hurled a sickle, splintering the hardwood so violently that the branch cracked nearly in half. The chain attached to it wrapped around the branch above you, enough to throw you off balance. One of the shadows bend enough for your leg to be touched by a kunai, but you retreat. He watched as your hands—almost as if they were trembling, because otherwise he couldn't explain it—moved far too slowly for a shinobi toward the twin chakra-infused sickles secured in the straps across your back. By the time your hands reached behind your head and your fingers curled around them, it was already too late. His Sharingan did not lie.
The shadows nearly collided. One second they were attacking you, the next you had vanished completely, one of the figures forcing the already unstable branch until it plunged into the void below.
Kakashi looked down at you, noticing your dilated pupils, probably from the adrenaline. He couldn't say anything yet. No. They needed to leave. He didn't know if he could take all of them down without knowing what they were capable of, and with you in this condition, the risk was far too great. Kakashi couldn't ignore the unexplicable fear he felt when you saw you there. Not even know, when he glance at you once in a while as your face was hidden in his chest for a reason he doesn't understand.
🍃
It’s bad. It’s really bad.
Kakashi jumped over the furthest three he found, loosening his grip around you when one of your legs hit the massive branch. You pressed one hand against the wood, bending your body slightly as you tried to catch your breath.
“How is it possible you didn’t deflect that?”
You could only manage a small scowl, too disturbed for anything else. Your ears started ringing like the whole forest was infected with a whistle genjutsu, carrying disturbing high-frequency notes meant to disorient the enemy’s senses. Or just a really bad bird song.
“Shut up—“
You hissed at the sudden uneasy feeling in your body, scrunching your eyebrows as you bent down, hair falling toward the distant ground that promised a completely unwelcome fall from this height. Just a fleeting movement and Kakashi’s hand found your arm again, stabilizing you in a second. Something was wrong. With you.
“What’s happening?”
At the lack of an answer, only the sound of your heavy breathing, Kakashi guided your arm over his shoulder as his own came behind your body, supporting your back as he took you down with him, jumping on the ground. He placed you down as gently as he could, but he felt the way you had gripped his clothes until now, your form now resting against the enormous tree.
“Are you hurt?” He looked over the small cut from the kunai, staining your training pants with blood. “Here?”
It’s really just a scratch. The tension in your shoulder muscles was more painful from the hit you had taken. But Kakashi had already ripped the fabric of your pants, his hand moving swiftly to locate the medical kit in his pack until his fingers found it.
Your eyes widened when his mask was lowered to his chin, his teeth tearing through the bandage and pulling off a long strip—enough to wrap around the wound one, two, tree more times — after he poured disinfectant over it. His fingers were warm as they brushed against your bare leg. He inspected the injury while you gasped at his touch, and he glanced at you, assuming it was because of the—pain?
“Kakashi, stop—It’s not—”
Kakashi pressed the back of his palm against your forehead, feeling the elevated heat of your skin.
He had never seen you like this. Kakashi had witnessed your wounded expression only once before, during an ANBU mission at the very beginning, and it had been nothing like this.
“What is it? Was their weapon poisoned?”
No, for fuck’s sake! You had felt this sensation simmering inside you even before the ambush, but your tongue refused to cooperate long enough to form coherent words. Your only focus was to breathe and breathe—
“No!”
“But what?”
“Hell, it’s so fucking embarrassing.”
He was so close that it made your heart pound wildly.
“What? What is it embarrassing? You need to tell me."
You moved away as much as possible, which was hardly at all. Your head resting against the tree trunk, your hands disturbing the earth beneath you from where you sat.
"I’m fucking… I’m fucking aroused, Kakashi! Okay? God, I wanna die. From all the goddamn things—to be here with…no, fuck!”
Kakashi’s hands stopped in an instant; his whole body froze as you continued rambling. You swipe the sweat over your face, leaning more on the three behind you, your body twitching against the ground.
“It’s like I took 3 bottles of aphrodisiac. It’s similar! I tried before, okay? I’m sure it is—“
You hissed as your thighs suffocated the heat between your legs, where the problem is. His shocked expression makes you feel he is taken aback, mostly disgusted by the way your mind is fragile. Unaware that Kakashi was indeed taken aback because it was the last thing he expected to hear from your mouth.
This is not good. He shouldn’t be here. No, you shouldn’t be here in the middle of the forest. Kakashi glanced around; the Copy Ninja seemed like he was going to pieces. Never thought about you like this. He never speaks with you about things like this. Yes, he heard you talk vaguely over a glass or two of sake about some hook-up with some jōnin from other villages with different rank names he doesn't remember now. Rating the experience, complaining, or praising based on their skills or—but it wasn’t his business. Not his place to talk about his own personal experiences and indulge in a conversation.
Still, he is also a liar.
He was younger that time, struggling with hormones a person could have, feeling guilty enough to have such a depraved thought about his comrade, no matter the gender. But he shut down that door inside his head pretty fast, not indulging in any filthy fantasies, repriming his urges in general, especially towards you.
His attention comes back to you, aware again and aware of your lack of air.
“We might not be the closest, but I trust you, okay?” What— “I trust you enough to not die here so pathetically from this fucking jutsu—or what the hell is this! I need to—Fuck!”
His eyes widen when you start putting your shirt over your head while his own turn so quickly in shame.
“[Name]—“ He looked around, feeling so stuck his own heart was leaping so hard.
“I really need to do something—please, leave me alone for a second. I don't—"
"No," Kakashi wet his lips. You shouldn’t be alone here. “You shouldn’t be alone. It’s dangerous and—“
“Kakashi, I need to touch myself like right now. Can’t you understand?”
His own breath was enough when his own mind betrayed him.
“Do you want me to help you with that?"
Am I hearing things?
“W-What? Why…why should I let you? It's clear you feel disgusted, and I’ll never force—"
“I’m not. I’m not disgusted.” He’s not at all. You don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s not the problem. “We need to resolve this fast, to get out away from this.” But you’re not conscious of consenting to such things, and he feels so damn guilty. “I’ll stay here. I’m not going to look—“
“Are you insane? I could ever—Oh! Fucking hell—I will, fuck—“
Kakashi's eyes lingered on the way your own hands try to give some sort of comfort by letting faint touches fall on your body. He catches himself, glancing back at you.
"Can you help me do a barrier ninjutsu?"
You tried to understand the meaning behind his inquiry, but all you could feel was fear. You swallowed harshly when Kakashi's hands grabbed yours, trying to ground you more in the present as his dark grey eyes messed with your mind.
"What…what are you saying?"
"Focus on me, please. We need to limit access here. Now."
More specifically, the seal will manipulate a specific point of space. The realization freaked you out even more.
"To trap me in a void here? With you? No—"
Kakashi let out a deep breath.
"[Name], trust me. Please."
The invisible sphere that seals away any opening has the possibility of being destroyed; however, doing so would require a tremendous amount of effort.
Kakashi moved your elbows into the position of starting basic hand seals as a first step.
"You remembered, right? What I showed you?"
You eventually nodded, listening to him. As both of you complete the hand signs, you struggle to channel a steady stream of chakra to your hands and touch the group. Kakashi put his hand over yours, transferring his chakra outwards, weaving an invisible barrier mesh across the perimeter of the area. He made a final hand sign, a mental command to seal the deal. The problem is, your chakra is already destabilized, and it will clear very quickly, so that remains for Kakashi to use almost all this chakra to maintain both of you here, as he was more plausible to remain conscious to concentrate.
“F-Fucking hell.” You start unzipping your pants, hands trembling in need.
“[Name],” Kakashi moistened his lips, catching only a glimpse of your panties. “Breathe. I’ll turn around.”
You struggled to let out a laugh, not a hint of amusement in it. Your hand comes right between your thighs, struggling against the tight little space, not patient enough to undress yourself completely.
You hissed at the first touch with your pulsating clit, not even teasing with light touches, circling around but pressing to feel more, your arousal already soaking a big spot on your underwear. Hell, they are not even your best panties. You spread your folds before trying to focus on a satisfactory rhythm, but it was so torturous—your blood burning and pumping in your veins, feeling jittery all over your body. Your foot pressing into the ground harshly, seeing your own legs with a diplopic vision.
Your half-lidded eyes were open, seeing Kakashi’s back as you glance down at the pumping veins on his arms, hands — placed on the ground, hidden under that fucking attractive black blouse he usually wears in missions, tightening against his toned body.
He tried to literally ground himself, almost like he could’ve let him gather a high concentration of his lightning chakra, breaking the ground under him. The squelching sounds of your pussy drive Kakashi mad, feeling like an intruder, like he shouldn’t be here. His eyes closed as he heard your moans, blaming the universe for not even having the possibility to use Kamui since his chakra is needed here.
You cursed under your breath, letting your hand from between your legs fall to the side, mirroring the other one as you breathed out agonizingly.
“Turn around.”
He flinched, his head shifting imperceptibly.
“Please, Kakashi. H-Help me.”
Kakashi took his time, looking in front of him before slowly, torturously turning around. Your eyes eat him alive, forcing him to look at you and see how dishevelled you are right now, with your top long gone and your breasts straining to slip off that bra, luring one to bite the skin above, to suck it, to worship it. He sizes you up, but how couldn’t he? When do you look so devilishly beautiful?
“Will you f-fucking help me?”
Your hand comes around your breast, squeezing it for any form of relief as he follows the motion before he drags himself closer to you.
“[Name], there’s no going back from…this.” He let you take his hand to come touch your breast, placing your own on top of his. “I only want you to feel good.”
He swallowed hard at your taunting tone. “Yeah?” He palmed your breast slowly, his mouth parted as he watched how you let out sweet notes of pleasure. “Then make me feel good, Kakashi.” You lifted as much as you could to be closer to him, looking up at him as your eyes fell on his lips and then on his cautious eyes. “Kiss me.”
Fuck. He couldn’t even speak or even try to stop you when his brain was intoxicating enough to lower his head at the same time you move, feeling your soft, dry lips against his for the first time.
Kakashi’s knees dragged against the ground as he draw closer, inclining his body to tower over you. One hand squeezed your breast, the other coming behind your head, deepening the kiss. Your teeth grazed his lower lip before tugging it, and it only made him more aroused, gripping your hair slightly just for you to moan against his swollen lips. He gave you a short glance before kissing you again, feeling your shuttering breath, his tongue slip inside your mouth.
Kakashi kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness you wanted, not now, not after all this time, and as you knotted your fists in his shirt, you pull him harder against you. He groaned against your mouth, not interrupting for even a second.
Slowly, cautiously, he draws a path over your shivering body, letting his fingers brush against your bra straps, letting them fall over your shoulder. Going further between your breasts, down to your belly, squeezing, caressing the heat of your skin on your waist as your hands come over his shoulders, giving him no chance to breathe.
You whined, biting your own lips as you started panting, no longer capable of kissing back because his hand came to touch your thighs, between them, hovering, and then shortly above your waistline. It was too little space for his liking, but he still felt hesitant to continue.
“Should I take them off?”
You nodded exasperatedly, your hands coming on both sides of your body, leaning over the three as you saw him taking your pants off, gentle in his movements while he looked up at you. When you part your legs, he felt ashamed for looking shortly after at how soaked you are, at how erotic you look right now, giving him your trust for him to take care of you in such a vulnerable state.
He comes to his previous position, a hand cupping your jaw, and he starts kissing you again when you desperately, insistently search for him. Kakashi was devastated by how you moaned every time he touched you, felt you, or tasted you.
On the other hand, you felt terribly lightheaded, feeling a tingling sensation down your spine while your body was so exhaustingly needy for any relief you’re not sure what could help you, and the way Kakashi kissed you didn’t help either. He didn’t kiss you like it was the first time. He kissed you like he’s been waiting for a long time for this exact moment. And you know that was impossible, but how can you explain the way he watched you right now? Like everything you say, directly or not, it’s a mental note for him to take care of. Or how his mouth parted, sighing sharply when his fingers came slipping past your waistline, coming to feel the radiant heat against them. The first touches of his fingertips make your hips twitch.
“F-Fuck…”
“Feels good?”
His moves were fast and quick, knowing there’s no way to torture you by the way you are soaked. You hummed in agreement, eyebrows scrunching, eyes shut off to focus on his touch. You breath out, barely conscious of your words when you looked down at how his hand between your legs, fingers moving in circles around your clit.
“I can’t believe you’re touching me when I’m like this. Why did it happened this way—“
Your own moan cut you off, eyes opening wide.
‘Why did it happen this way?’ You’re intoxicated. You don’t know what you’re talking about.
Kakashi put a hand over your hips to immobilise you, knowing you are already closer to orgasm.
“God, you’re damn annoying. You never looked at me before—”
You wanted him to look?
He swallowed down the aggravating feeling in his chest, closing the distance as his face was inches apart, lips brushing.
“Shh.”
“You don’t believe me—you think I’m a fucking liar—”
He cupped your cheeks to stop you.
“I believe you.” He doesn’t. He can’t. “Focus on me, [Name].” Your breath catches, opening your mouth in an ‘O.’. “Mhm. Like this. Let go.” His fingers dragged your orgasm over your clit until your muffled screams against his chest, his head lowering down toward your neck.
Your heavy breath against his sensitive spot, your tight grip against his arm muscle, the scent of your arousal glistening now visible on his finger as he just slowly start slipping in and out of your pussy, testing your entrance—everything drives Kakashi madder.
“Mhmm—” you whimpered, feeling him stretching your insides so fast by how soaked you were that he needed to add another one. “Please...” You gasped when he hit that tight, sweet spot, making you involuntary spasm in his embrace, lifting your head until he glanced down to see your fucked-up, but very beautiful gaze.
Kakashi swallowed, his own breathing betrayed him, telling you directly how affected he is. “Put your hands like this.” His arm comes behind you, taking you closer until your own weak ones come over his shoulders, his head promoted next to your neck, nipping the skin there between your lovely sounds that you gave him.
“Fuck, Kakashi—” you moaned as his rhythm turned faster, the end of his palm giving you friction against your clit at every flapping sound made by his deeper, ruthless fingering. “It feels…I can’t—I can’t explain!”
He licked his lips, breathing out. “Tell me.” He turned his head to whisper against your ear. “Tell me how it feels.”
“I never…Oh, f—” Your eyes roll into your head, feeling a tension in your bones starting to build. His arm gripped yours tighter, his fingers didn’t stop pumping inside. “I feel...like a—p-pressure down there!”
“Mmm. You do?”
He straightened himself, letting you fall back gradually onto the tree, knees rising slightly as legs parted for him more. His thumb came to add another stimulation over your clit, and his rhythm faltered for a moment when he glanced at you and then at your belly. Kakashi knows what you mean. Yet, it seems you don’t.
“Kakashi, w-what—”
He puts his other hand over your belly, near your waistline, adding a pressure you didn’t know you needed. Or you don’t. You didn’t know what you were feeling, a mix of fear and need for something you didn’t experience; the overwhelming sensations made your head numb, wanting release again as soon as possible. Your name falls from his lips, trying to open your half-lidded eyes to be here with him.
“I’ll make you feel good like I promised.”
When he crunched down, enough for you to understand what he would do, only giving you a quick look, your hands were too late to stop him, instead gripping his hair when Kakashi started eating you out. One of your palms comes to rest over one of his, pressing on your belly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Kakashi pulled back to pant for air, avoiding your gaze to don’t let it stuck with him forever. He grunted and his tongue flicked faster, his forearms flexing as he held your trembling thights down. He licked your pussy with broad, slow strokes first before beginning to devour you once he felt yout clit swlling against his tongue.
With his vigorous, repetitive thrust, his tongue lapping and sucking over your clit, and the added pressure you already felt before all this, your thighs come in an instant around his head, trapping him here as you scream. It felt surreal, like you were high on drugs, and not on the ones you were already on while a colorless, fluid come all over his mouth. You didn’t realize at first, seeing stars behind your eyelids, now shut completely. Only the way he was cleaning you up, lapping all the juices of your squirt and orgasm, made you conscious again, tugging his hair with the faint trail of power you had.
Your hand fell from his hair, your fingers brushing over his face, his cheek, as you were completely perplexed by Kakashi, his mouth, his chin—all soaked.
But his eyes, God, his eyes were so fucking entrancing, like the only person in this world that he could desire right now is you. Did you just…? No…you never did. But it was the best, intense orgasm you had. Your senses were so clouded, still so clouded, that you felt if he wasn’t here with you from beginning, you wouldn’t know what to do.
His mouth parted when one of your fingers grazed his lips, and you felt your pussy clenching when he swirled his tongue around it, taking your hand to sit still as he sucked now on two of your fingers.
He is so fucking good.
Your eyes glanced slowly, seeing how tight his combat pants were in the middle.
Kakashi sensed the way you feel, like a subtle hint a cat might attack him by the manacing, predatory gaze in her, either because she likes him or because she doesn’t. And right now, it’s definitely not the second option.
A jolt of electricity runs down your spine, like your chakra that kept both of you hidden (long gone before your first orgasm) was now only supplied by him when hou over him, knees resting on both sides to sit on his lap. His hands come quickly to rest on your waist.
“[Name]—” You cupped both of his cheeks, your mouth finding his, shutting him off, barely letting him breathe between your kisses. “How…d-do you feel?” He hissed when you grind right against his leaking tip, propping his shorts. The fact is, Kakashi felt himself ashamed for indulging so much previously in how beautiful you reacted to him that now he has a bad conscience.
“Better.”
“Then we should—”
“Now I want to make you feel good.”
Your tongue slips inside his mouth again, making his terrible life more struggling by how your naked body grinds on him and your other hand comes under his skin to touch everywhere you can. You stopped the kiss, letting others, wet and hot, fall down his neck.
“You don’t need to. I only want you to feel capable enough to…”
Kakashi’s words fall off his mouth when you start lowering yourself more and more until you play with his pants, your body bending, ass rising in the air. Hell, thank God you are protected, only seen by him. But the thought it’s not not for too long make him more alerted. Kakashi doesn’t have infinite chakra, and he would really need to preserve it. What if the ambush happens again after you both want to leave and—
“But I want to. Can I?” He glanced down at you, seeing more clearly your intoxicated gaze and your rushed, desperate movements, like that cursed pollen didn’t even get completely absorbed into your body but to be eliminated. His hips buckled when your fingertips move around his bare waistline, giving him a soft peck here. “Can I, Kakashi?”
He’s completely done. You’ll definitely hate him, won’t you? Still, he tried again to stop you.
“I’d…rather make you feel good.”
His hand came on your shoulder when you nuzzled your face here, feeling the urge to escape the prison of your seductive spells.
“I want to feel you inside my mouth, please. I need it.” Kakashi’s eyes widen, more aroused by the way you speak and look at him, playing with the edge of his trousers.
He didn’t realize he nodded.
Kakashi didn’t even hear the rustle of the leaves swirling in the wind, his knees scraping the ground, or his pants’ zipper being dragged down—only an agitating, ringing sound in his ears, his grey eyes totally bewitched by you.
Kakashi groaned at the same time you moaned when you licked the wet spot with his precum imprinted over the shorts, taking his dick in your hand. He’s still surprised he didn’t cum yet after he ate you previously. Kakashi will definitely not forget that image of you getting off his face, letting him swallow every drop. He was too focused on making you release the toxins from your blood, too focused to make you scream. And now? He feels pathetic in your hands. All control vanished from him as he let you free him of his shorts; the faint coldness of the air barely touched his dick before you warmed it up already, swirling your tongue over his tip.
“Ah…”
His deep voice was all you could hear and want to hear, and his taste was all you wanted to eat right now, to taste him on your lips as you kiss his dick from the bottom to the top until you couldn’t wait to take him in your mouth.
You hummed inch by inch, letting it still inside your throat to make him weak a little before slipping away. You stroke him as you watch him unravel.
“God, I wish you were like this instead of me.” Kakashi closed his eyes, breathing heavily. You whisper before coming to take him in your mouth again. “To see you more like this.”
He throbbed in your mouth as you sucked him on and on without stopping, making his hand come to rest on your head and sending vibrations down his veins when you moan— saliva slipped down your chin from the sloppy deepthroat you start to give him. He tugged your hair at the feeling, only spurring you to choke on him again. Making you more lightheaded than you already were.
When Kakashi glances down to make eye contact with you, you come to your senses for a moment by the look he gives you, realizing your position.
“Y-Yes? Would you like me to lose composure like that for you?”
Is he teasing me? He is as aroused as me? No. It might be from my intoxication. It sure is. Damn, you want him so fucking bad. All of him.
You glanced away, focusing on making him cum, but Kakashi didn’t have any intent to do so, trying only to offer you what you wanted with his body, not like he wasn’t feeling extremely pleased by the fact you were just kneeling between his legs with his dick in your mouth. He is despicable, isn’t he?
As he tried to provide you more pleasure, touching your breast, your back, your face—his whole body stuck him in place, incapable of doing more when you didn’t relent, sucking the life out of him until he filled your mouth deep enough to make your throat bulge and your wall tightness to grip his tip enough that he was sure he would cum now if he didn’t stop.
“[Name], please—stop. I’ll—”
He tugged your hair a little, not to hurt, but to try to signal he might cum; his other hand came to cup your face, but Kakashi was completely finished when you glanced up at him one more time before his cum spilled inside your throat, your mouth working to swallow all he gave you.
Kakashi’s face was so intimate you felt your chest pumping violently, and not because of the sex. You’re not sure who was more desperate to lap the other’s cum by the way you clean him off, licking his balls and kissing his dick one more time before you came to kiss him, coming over him.
Kakashi hugs your form, glitching a little when you sit over him by how overwhelmed he is by the way you behave. He can handle you. Of course he can. But you lost precious time to make him cum when he was the one supposed to take care of you. You don’t realize any of this right now, and his guilt only accentuates every time he has a second to breathe.
Not that you let him.
You take his hands to come over your ass, letting him squeeze it, your breast touching his lean chest as you eat each other out. You stopped only to breath against his lips.
“Strip your clothes off.”
His amused glint was here by how demanding you sounded, yet Kakashi was also…afraid. Still afraid. You are both naked. In the middle of the forest. His chakra is at his limit. And the next step will literally dig his grave further. But how could he tell you? He let his shirt fall over, and by the way you looked at him, Kakashi’s breath rested in his throat for a second by your words.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Did you really mean all you told him until now? Since when do you feel about him like this? Or will you react the same with other men in this condition? He feels agitated just by the thought of some asshole having the chance to see you so open.
His bad luck comes from the fact his mask couldn’t save him both times today. You thought you imagined it when you saw his face flustered. But he didn’t when he saw yours. Kakashi comes to hug you again, squeezing your ass before lifting you more over his lower abdomen as his head comes next to yours.
“You’re more beautiful, believe me.” He didn’t realize he only riled you by the way his fingers caressed your back. “Very beautiful and alluring.” Or by the way his hoarse voice whispered praises in your ear.
Kakashi only hoped you’d come to your senses until he heard your voice.
“Kakashi… Please, I need you to…”
He brushed his lips over yours, pleading with his eyes for you to not say it.
“To what?”
You kissed him slowly, sensually, nipping his bottom lip between your teeth. You lowered yourself on him, feeling his dick twitch at the movement.
“To feel me.”
He looked in another direction, trying to blink away the desire you light inside of him.
“Are you sure? Do you want to...”
Your hands come over him, your forehead rests against him as you try to make him look at you.
“Don’t make me humiliate myself more, Kakashi. Fuck me, please—”
His eyes widen at your words, feeling the urge to wipe them off with his lips pressing against yours.
“[Name], you’ll hate me if—”
“I’m the one taking advantage!”
He swallowed, shaking his head, yet his grip tightened on your thighs as you moved slowly.
“You’re not in your right mind—“
No. This is worse. He looked at your desperate, lustful yet hurt expression and felt a pang in his chest. You lowered your head over his shoulder as you mumbled.
“S-So you don’t want to…”
His hand comes to take your face in his hands, pecking your lips.
“I do.” He let his lips leave his love marks against your skin, showing his care. “I’ll do it.”
Not even a condom in his useless backpack could be found. Not like he would ever think to bring one in a mission with you. That thought was completely nonexistent before.
Your legs trembled as you felt his hand come under your body, taking his dick as he started sliding his tip between your folds. He circled at your entrance, his eyes only glancing up at you or at your lips. He whispered, not sure where to look first to gather his answer.
“Can I?”
“Yes. Do what you want. Inside me, please—“
His dick started entering you, and Kakashi’s lungs had no air left at the feeling, still he focus was on all your faces.
“F-Fuck.”
You’re so wet, yet his girth makes you struggle from this position. He grasps you tight, whispering encouraging, sweet nonsense in your ears.
“I’m here. I’m here.”
You whined, breathing hard as you clamped down his dick, feeling your legs tremble little by little. Kakashi felt at the brink of death when he felt your tight walls giving a warmth he was not sure he could resist. Or resist against it.
“Please, relax. It’s going to hurt if you don’t—”
You head rested against his, both foreheads covered with little drops of sweat.
“I don’t care.” You take him all in in that moment, making your head fall back and him groaning at the addictive feeling. “Take me.” How could he not respond to that?
He raised his hips, hitting exactly where you want him to. “Oh God—“ Your legs burn so sweet as you ride his dick. “Y-Yes, yes—Like that.” His dick feels so good inside you. You tremble in need, filling his ear with your cries. And Kakashi was not better.
“I need more. Baby, p-please.”
Baby? His heart can’t take too much of this. Kakashi’s arm rested high on your back, now his hand come around your neck.
“Don’t move.” He lowered you on the ground, slipping slowly in the process. He looked over your face, assessing how aware you are.
“Kakashi, I swear to God—“
There’s no point of stopping now.
“Spread your legs for me. Can you do that?”
You almost bite your lip, your cheeks flushed instantly as your closed legs now start spreading for Kakashi. He is sure he shouldn’t be allowed to deserve this. Your arms over your chest were quickly set aside by him before one rested on his elbows.
“I’m sure you’ll hate me.”
“I can’t hate you—“
He stopped you with his dick coming back inside you, not yet used to the incredible feeling. Kakashi can see you better now, and he’s not sure if it’s a bad thing or not. For his blood pressure sure is. He starts feeding you more, thrusting inside as he watches you cry for him. You want to feel him forever. You’re sure. And it’s not because of the toxins. You already felt you sweat at least half of it out.
Kakashi’s gaze followed how you bite your lip, by how deep he is inside you, tears threaten to fall on your cheeks, and they do when he moves faster, his body so close you almost seem fused together. You felt his warm breath against your face, your lashes fluttering when you felt his lips on your cheeks, kissing the tears away.
“Here?”
“Mhm!”
His hand comes to find a way between your bodies, letting your skin breathe only for a singular purpose. You nod frantically when he starts grazing your swollen clit, helping you reach closer to your orgasm.
And truly you didn’t need long. Soon enough, air left your lungs at every harsh, deep thrust until he started going faster, nodding frantically at him.
“I’m going to cum again— Kakashi, please!”
He claimed your lips. “Do it. You can do it.” He whispered against them. “I need you too, sweetheart.”
“Oh God—Mhmmm! You feel so good. So fucking good. Do I feel good for you?”
“Y-Yes.” Like heaven. “So good.”
You’re so damn talkative. Who would’ve thought? You want to literally rewind his brain forever?
You came all over his dick, crying against his chest, your orgasm only triggering him way too close to resist the temptation. And when your legs trap him and he realizes that’s really a dangerous zone he will force himself out if necessary. He gripped one of them to lower it down, and you begged against his lips so sweetly.
“Baby, no. I’m on the—“
You could be. That’s not a problem. That’s a thing he should speak when you’re in your right mind. If this were ever to happen again. Kakashi hopes it will. It will crush him if not. He realized he doesn’t want anyone else. In any way.
He begged you back, his eyes compelling you as his dick was punishing (pleasuring) your insides. You’re not sure.
“Please, listen to me.”
He places both of your hands above your head with his on top of it, shutting you off with his lips and his harsh, deep pounding. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your legs completely falling from your waist. He thrusts one more time, pressing his lips against yours before he slips off your pussy at the same time his mouth leaves yours. Kakashi didn’t let your eyes fall off him as he stroked himself between your legs until you could feel some of his warm release between your thighs. He groaned so much at his cum didn’t stop spurring that you’re sure you never heard something so attractive.
You didn’t have time to have a small, tiny intrusive thought as reality finally start setting in when he came back, pestering your face with soft kisses as he took you from the ground, your body placed vertically on his lap.
“You’re feeling okay?” His lower, deeper voice, like a cradle song. “Tell me, [Name].” Kakashi left a kiss on your forehead.
“Mhm, mhm.”
He turned his body to search for a vest, his backpack with his sleeping bag, or anything to hide both of your bodies in. You murmured, exhausted.
“Do you like me, Kakashi?”
He paused his wandering hands over the ground, completely taken aback.
You’ll probably not remember his answer. That’s his hope. But he didn’t look at you when he said it.
“I do.”
You murmured against his chest one more time before your body slowly let you fall asleep in less than a minute.
“Your heart beats so fast.”
He sighed, tugging you against him so you wouldn’t get cold, or…for other reasons too. Kakashi mumbled, resting his head on yours.
“You should hear yours.”
A flicker of chakra was all he felt inside of him, sensing the barrier exposing your presence at the same time the pieces of clothing were thrown on both of you, vanishing instantly.
🍃
In a simple, hidden cave that served as a subterranean room used to rest, stash scrolls, or hide from tracking ninjas, you stayed unconscious until now.
You flinched as you woke up, aware of how stiff your body felt. A blush spread across your cheek as you felt your bare body, warmed under Kakashi’s blanket—which he’d probably use for his missions. You struggled so much to get dressed that it felt like it took an hour, using whatever clothes were still wearable—that is, pants and a top. Your underwear was hanging on a wire, stuck deep into the rock so it wouldn’t fall. Thoughtful of him? Yes. Embarrassing for you? Yes.
What did you do?
A sigh escaped your mouth as you managed to come outside the hideout, making Kakashi glance briefly from where he was patrolling until now while you slowly came to sit next to the small fire, close enough to where you had rested. You avoided his eyes, and he knew it.
“How do you feel?”
You put your elbows on your knees, raising yourself slightly into a more comfortable position. For the first time, you looked at him, forcing a smile that was still genuine.
“Surprisingly, I feel much better than I did before the mission. You took care of me,” you added, your voice lowered a tone. “...Thank you.”
Kakashi hummed, not mentioning the fact that helping someone shouldn’t be praised for having common sense. You moved a stick through the ashes that spelled the end of the fire, as if you wanted to fill the silence around you with anything that could make it bearable. His way-too-early question surprised you, making you stiffen.
“Did you mean what you said?”
You groaned while both your palms tried to hide your face, too red to blame on the fire.
“Can we not speak about it? It was humiliating.”
He answered shortly, much like your response.
“Did I make you feel bad?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He shared a faint smile with you. Then, you bit your lip in distress, wondering if you should risk it. After all, you could play dumb, minimizing all of your big, so fucking obvious, confessions. You were drugged, right?
But you were not a liar.
“...Yes. I meant it.”
You glanced in another direction, your chin resting on your hand. Your eyes wandered mindlessly despite your spiraling thoughts and the heart that threatened to escape your constricted ribs.
“Quite surprising.”
You looked at him, confused. Kakashi slipped his hand into your backpack, and you only now noticed he had been handling it. He threw you a bottle of water, and you caught it smoothly, taking a much-needed sip to relieve your dehydrated mouth. A flashback of you screaming his name flooded your mind, but you swallowed down the intrusive image with another gulp.
“How so?”
His tone was amused, dissipating the tension in the icy air the night provided.
“You were not exactly the friendliest person before. I usually catch it quickly when someone is interested.”
You placed your hands on either side of your body, leaning back as you snorted, a mirthful glint in your eyes.
“I’m sorry that the perceptive Kakashi Hatake himself didn’t uncover my feelings. You’re not so easy to read either, by the way.”
He breathed out a laugh, not retorting for once.
Kakashi wasn’t the only one curious about what had happened, about what you had both said. You started carefully.
“How were you not affected by the pollen?”
He took part of his mask between his fingers, tapping it back against his face.
“I made some changes to it. It’s now enchanted with a material that blocks toxins in the air.”
“That’s cheating.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
The corner of your mouth twitched, suppressing a smile. Yet how could he have been so affected? Did you remember it wrong? The way he touched you, tasted you, and fucked you? More like... made love to you? Spoke so intimately, so sweetly to you?
You caught yourself speaking, and this time Kakashi was visibly tense. His eyes suddenly became very interested in the ground beneath him.
“Did you also mean what you said?”
His answer came after a minute.
“...In a way.”
Oh.
He glanced at you then, seeing how you had switched places from how you had been before your question—you weren’t here with him anymore. And shinobi were skilled enough to anticipate when a threat lay ahead. A fight, maybe.
For him, the discussion had already been difficult enough. He wasn’t prepared for more than this. Although, when you spoke again, he felt caged between his own walls. What used to be a familiar feeling had now slowly transformed into something he wasn’t as comfortable with as before.
“So it was only sexual?”
Kakashi realized by the trembling tone in your voice that you had understood him in the worst way possible.
“No, [Name].” His eyes widened, distressed, as he saw half your face, a tear tracing your cheek. “Don’t...”
You turned away, and he had the urge to rise to his feet. He did. It was too late to step back. You only saw his shadow approaching. He crouched down, and slowly, hesitantly, his hand settled over yours, and you fought the urge not to pull away.
“That’s not what... I meant.”
You wiped the tears away with the back of your hand.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”
Kakashi sighed, and it only made you feel worse, like a parent trying to make a child understand something simple. Not knowing how conflicted Kakashi was, how he needed to detach himself from his own discomfort to speak openly about things he didn’t understand yet.
“It’s... I didn’t consider this before. It was surprising for me.”
“Okay.”
He sat down beside you now, taking your hand in his and playing with your fingers, turning the little ring you used to twirl whenever anxiety got the best of you, now using it himself to distract from the intrusive thoughts that surfaced whenever it came to his own vulnerability.
Being honest was all he had to offer for now. At least, that’s what he thought.
“I wasn’t unaffected like you think. Not only in the way of having you like this.”
You furrowed your brows, tilting your head but still not looking at him.
“So you meant the other parts or not?”
You both spoke so vaguely that if anyone else listened, they wouldn’t understand a thing.
“...Yes.”
You scoffed, letting out a harsh breath.
“I don’t know what to believe.”
He didn’t know either.
“I understand,” Kakashi admitted eventually. “I never... tried before.”
“What? A relationship?”
You looked back, your eyes meeting for a second. Fuck, wrong move. Your gaze lingered on his expression, one you hadn’t seen before. He nodded, and you found yourself turning until you faced him fully, both of you sitting on the ground.
“I can’t say I’m much different. You know what assholes I’ve met before. But... you’re not that kind of asshole.”
His warm chuckle made your heart leap. Only now did you realize how close he was, close enough to hear his slow breathing and to crave his warmth again without being so hot and bothered.
“God, if you say this to anyone else, I swear—”
He shook his head, cutting you off.
“Don’t worry. I’ll never do something like that.”
You whispered, searching for him without realizing it. For that part of him you needed now.
“I get the feeling you wouldn’t.”
When he met your eyes, Kakashi regretted it, forced to weigh your words. How could you see him for what he was? It unsettled him. He needed to do something. Good or bad, he didn’t know.
“I don’t want to raise your hopes for nothing.”
You studied his face. His words sounded like a rejection, but his tone and expression didn’t match them. You tried something else.
“Okay. I get it. You’re allergic to feelings.”
He chuckled.
“I guess I am. But...”
You tilted your head instantly.
“But?”
“I’m not sure. I felt something once and never found it again until... you.”
You gulped.
“What does that mean, Kakashi? Do you want me to be your...”
No. That wasn’t the appropriate question. He should be the one. Kakashi interrupts you.
“Do you want to be my... cure?”
“Yes.”
Your heart has a mind of its own, otherwise you couldn’t explain how or when you leaned closer to Kakashi, softly pecking his lips. He was just as startled as you.
Only for a moment. Kakashi glanced shortly at your lips, then at your eyes one more time before he leaned in back, his lips meeting yours, licking his way into your mouth. The tip of your tongue brushed against his. Just the wet press of his mouth and the quick faltering of his breath make your fingers tighten at his neck, a dizzy drop is present in your stomach every time he comes back for more. A shuddering breath escaped him. When his eyes opened, his innocent gaze was almost gone, swallowed entirely by his pupils. His voice was hoarse, finally feeling at peace for showing without guilt how much he feels for you.
“Kakashi, we really shouldn’t—”
“One more time.”
Kakashi pressed his lips against yours, unwilling to wait another second. His tongue writhed deeper, tangling around yours, tasting greedily more and more of you. When he pulled away, both of you looked wrecked by it—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes glistening.
You licked your lips, not daring to see things yet, breaking the spell. When your mouth twitches, failing to stop a smile forming, Kakashi finds his heart violently pumping inside of him, taking your hands in his, glancing away. But you’re sure now of what you see and feel, and his subtle smile didn’t go unnoticed.
At least the tension in his body finally left after the two of you coming to a discussion.
Aware now of your surroundings, you glanced around the darkness spreading around the forest. The small fire is long gone; probably need to make another one until tomorrow. You looked back at Kakashi. You slept until now; he really needs a break from taking care of you all day.
“Come on, let’s switch. I’ll stay awake until morning.”
His answer is coming shortly.
“No, don’t worry.”
Your threatening tone wasn’t missed. “Kakashi.” He didn’t respond, not until he saw the concern between your eyebrows, the unspoken pleading words all over your face. And of course, now he can openly see the lovely glint inside of them. For him. Only for him.
“Then, we stay together.”
You nodded reluctantly. But not long after, as your fingers carefully play with his soft, silver hair as his head rested on your lap, Kakashi fell asleep. One of the few times in his life, he felt safe enough to be vulnerable, to trust someone.
Repeating the same pattern doesn’t sound so appealing anymore when your presence does synaptic rejuvenation for him. He didn’t understand the reasons for the mechanism behind why it felt so undeniably right for you to be that person, and it’s definitely not an option to turn to his grey, oppressive walls or the suffocating solitude after you forcefully demolished them to claim even a little space. To let his heart breathe more, accepting a love he is not sure yet how it will handle, but at least he will not dismiss it. For the first time in his life.
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:
Synopsis: Gaara holds his newborn son for the first time
Tags/Warnings: Post-Childbirth, Fluff, Hospitals
WC: 1,220
Fanfiction Masterlist
The room is quiet, the only sound being the soft, steady sounds of your newborn son breathing.
Warm afternoon light filters through the window, casting a gentle golden glow across the room.
You shift slightly against the pillows, careful not to disturb the tiny bundle resting in your arms.
Your son stirs faintly in his sleep, his small fingers curling instinctively into the blanket wrapped around him, and despite the exhaustion weighing on your body, a soft smile spreads across your face.
Across the room, Gaara stands beside the large window that looks over the village.
For someone who has faced battlefields, leads an entire village, and carries the weight of the Kazekage title on his shoulders, he looks strangely uncertain now.
His posture is stiff, his hands resting awkwardly at his sides like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them.
His blue eyes keep drifting between you and the baby, watching you and the baby quietly, almost intensely, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail.
But he doesn’t step closer.
It’s as if some invisible line holds him a few steps away from the bed, uncertainty flickering across his otherwise calm expression.
You study him for a moment, noticing the hesitation he’s trying—and failing—to hide.
Gaara has faced enemies without fear, but this… this is something entirely new.
Something fragile.
Something precious.
Your son shifts again in your arms, letting out a small sleepy sound.
Instinctively, you adjust the blanket around him, cradling him a little closer to your chest.
The movement immediately draws Gaara’s attention to the baby again.
His gaze softens as your eyes meet his when you look up at him a second later.
Your tired smile deepens slightly.
“Do you want to hold him, Gaara?” you ask gently after a moment of looking into his eyes.
At your question, Gaara’s blue eyes widen.
“What?” he asks softly, his voice almost breathless, as if he isn’t sure he heard you correctly. “What did you say?”
For a moment he just stares at you.
Your question clearly caught him off guard as his blue eyes flicker down to the tiny bundle in your arms, then back up to your face again.
Your son makes a soft little sound in his sleep, shifting slightly against your chest.
You notice the way Gaara’s shoulders tense.
The hesitation.
The quiet uncertainty written across the face of a man who has faced battlefields without flinching—but now looks completely unsure of himself.
Your smile softens.
Carefully, so you don’t jostle the baby, you shift one arm slightly and reach your free hand toward him.
Your fingers extend across the small space between you, palm open in a silent invitation.
“Come here,” you murmur gently, your voice warm despite the exhaustion in it.
Gaara’s eyes drop to your hand and for a second, he simply looks at it, as if grounding himself in the moment.
Then slowly—almost cautiously—he steps closer to the bed.
You can see the nervousness in the careful way he moves, in the way his hands hover slightly like he still isn’t sure where to put them.
Before he can second-guess himself, you gently take his hand.
His fingers are warm when they slide into yours, and for a moment he seems startled by the contact.
You give his hand a small squeeze, your thumb brushing reassuringly over his knuckles.
“It’s okay,” you whisper softly.
You guide his hand a little closer to the baby, letting him feel how small your son really is, how carefully you’re holding him.
Your gaze lifts back to his face. “Do you want to hold him, Gaara?”
For a long moment he doesn’t move or reply when he reaches the bedside, his gaze immediately drops back to the baby.
His lips part slightly, but no words come out.
Instead, a soft, strangled sound escapes his throat—something caught between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.
“It’s okay, my love,” you reassure him gently as your thumb brushes across the back of his hand.
Gaara swallows hard.
He slowly lifts his hands… only to hesitate halfway before dropping them again, uncertainty flickering across his face.
You’ve never seen him look so unsure of himself.
“Take him,” you say softly as you shift the baby in your arms so Gaara can see him better, cradling your son’s small head securely in the crook of your elbow as you offer him forward.
Gaara freezes.
“A-Are you sure?” he asks quietly, his voice trembling slightly as his eyes flicker nervously to the baby’s tiny body.
“Of course,” you reply with a reassuring smile. “You’re his father after all.”
Gaara closes his eyes for a brief moment.
When he opens them again, he bends down slowly, moving incredibly careful as he slides his arms beneath the baby.
One arm supports your son’s tiny body while the other carefully cradles the fragile little head the way he watched the nurses do earlier.
The moment your son settles into Gaara’s arms…
You notice it immediately.
He starts shaking.
His shoulders tremble slightly as he stares down at the tiny boy now resting against his chest.
Then his eyes fill with tears.
“Oh, Gaara…” you murmur softly as the first tear slips down his cheek.
He lets out a shaky laugh that sounds halfway between joy and disbelief.
“I… I feel like I’m going to drop him,” he stammers quietly, tightening his hold on the blanket as he adjusts his grip. “I’m shaking so much…”
“You’re not going to drop him,” you reassure him gently as you finally allow yourself to relax back against the pillows, exhaustion settling deep into your body now that everything is over.
Your head sinks into the pillow as you watch him.
Watch your husband hold your child for the very first time.
Gaara looks completely mesmerized.
His eyes move slowly over the baby’s tiny features—the soft curve of his cheeks, the faint dusting of hair on his head, the impossibly small hands curled against the blanket.
“He looks like you, doesn’t he?” you say softly.
Gaara sniffles, ducking his head slightly to wipe his face against the sleeve of his arm, but his gaze never leaves your son.
“I was going to say the same thing about you…” he murmurs quietly.
His voice sounds awed.
Almost reverent.
The longer he stares, the more emotional he seems to become.
“I have a son…” Gaara whispers as his arms instinctively pull the baby a little closer to his chest. “We have a son…”
He repeats the words like he needs to hear them out loud to believe they’re real.
“I… I never thought…” His voice falters.
For someone who spent most of his life believing he would always be alone… believing love and family weren’t meant for him…
The moment feels almost unreal.
Time seems to slow as the two of you simply stare at the tiny life in his arms.
Your son shifts slightly in Gaara’s hold, letting out a tiny sleepy sound.
Gaara freezes instantly, but after a second, his face softens and a small, fragile smile spreads across his lips—one of the most genuine smiles you’ve ever seen from him.
And as you watch him holding your son so carefully, something warm settles in your chest.
