#naruto imagines

[kamuifade]

Okay hear me out

Jiraiya coming back to the leaf village with Naruto after they trained for 2 years. Jiraiya was really focused on Naruto and his book so he didn’t have that much sex. But then as he’s walking through the city he sees his favorite fuck toy.

They have been hooking up since they were both teenagers. But this time when Jiraiya is fucking her, she confesses her feelings for him… (a little bit of an age gap too. Maybe just like 5-6 years)

—————————

The streets of Konoha hummed with the lazy energy of dusk, lanterns flickering to life one by one as merchants packed up their stalls. The air carried the mingled scents of grilled dango, fresh river fish, and blooming cherry blossoms, but Jiraiya barely registered any of it. His sharp gaze locked onto you the moment he rounded the corner near the market square. Two years. Two fucking years of missions, of lonely nights with only memories and his own hand for company, and there you were—more devastating than ever.

Your body had ripened beautifully in his absence. The gentle curve of your hips had widened into a lush, womanly swell that begged to be gripped. Your breasts strained against the fabric of your top, fuller and heavier, bouncing subtly with each confident step. That same sway in your hips, the one that had haunted his dreams, made his cock throb instantly against the confines of his pants. The five-year age gap that had once felt like a barrier when you were sneaking kisses behind the training grounds as teenagers meant nothing now. You were both adults. And he was done waiting.

He crossed the distance in long, purposeful strides, his tall, broad frame cutting through the sparse crowd like a predator. Before you could even turn fully, his large, calloused hand slid possessively around your waist, fingers splaying wide over the dip of your hip as he yanked you flush against his solid chest. You gasped at the contact—immediately feeling the thick, heavy bulge of his erection pressing insistently against your lower belly, already rock-hard and radiating heat through his clothes.

“Been dreaming about this tight little pussy for two fucking years,” he growled low against your ear, his breath hot and ragged, voice gravelly with pent-up lust. His free hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head to expose your neck. “Every night on the road, jerking off to the thought of you creaming on my cock. You’re coming with me. Right fucking now.”

You barely had time to nod before he was steering you away, his grip on your waist unyielding. The walk to the discreet inn on the outskirts of the village was a torturous blur. His hand never left you—sliding down to squeeze your ass, dipping under your shirt to trace the underside of your breast, fingers brushing teasingly over your hardening nipple in public where anyone might see. Heated glances passed between you, heavy with promise. By the time the door to the private room clicked shut behind you, you were both breathing hard.

Jiraiya didn’t waste a second. He shoved you back against the wooden door with a solid thud, his massive body caging you in. His mouth crashed down on yours in a bruising kiss, tongue plunging deep and claiming every inch like a starving man. He tasted of sake and smoke, smelled of travel dust, sweat, and that raw, masculine musk that always made your core clench with need. One huge hand shoved your shirt up roughly, exposing your breasts to the cool air before palming one greedily. His thick fingers kneaded the soft flesh, pinching and rolling your nipple until it ached deliciously, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You moaned into his mouth as he ground his thick erection against your thigh, the heavy length already leaking pre-cum—you could feel the growing wet spot soaking through his pants and smearing against your skin. “Jiraiya…” you whimpered, hands fisting in his white hair.

Clothes were torn off in a frantic haze. He ripped your pants and panties down your legs in one brutal tug, nearly tearing the fabric. His own clothes followed, revealing the powerful, battle-hardened body beneath—broad shoulders, defined abs, and that obscene cock springing free. It was monstrous: thick as your wrist, veins pulsing along the girthy shaft, the fat purple head swollen and glistening with a steady flow of pre-cum. A thick, pearly bead dripped slowly down the underside as he gave himself two rough strokes, eyes locked on your naked form with raw hunger.

“On the bed. Legs spread wide for me,” he ordered, voice dark and commanding.

You barely took two stumbling steps before he grabbed you, lifting you effortlessly and tossing you onto the futon. He climbed between your thighs like a man possessed, shoving your knees up toward your chest and folding you open. Your dripping pussy was completely exposed—pink folds swollen, slick glistening in the low lantern light, clit peeking out begging for attention.

“Fuck… look at you,” he groaned, voice thick with awe and lust. “Dripping like a desperate little whore for this old pervert. Been waiting for my cock, haven’t you?”

He dragged two thick fingers through your soaked folds, spreading your arousal messily before pushing both inside you without warning. The sudden stretch made you cry out, back arching. He pumped them deep and fast, curling them relentlessly against your g-spot while his calloused thumb rubbed rough, insistent circles over your swollen clit. Obscene, wet squelching sounds filled the room as your juices gushed around his fingers, dripping down your ass and soaking the sheets beneath you.

“So fucking tight,” he snarled, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his hot, wet mouth. He sucked hard, tongue flicking, then bit down just enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain shooting through you. Your hips bucked wildly against his hand, chasing the building pressure.

You were teetering on the edge when he suddenly yanked his fingers free. He brought them to his mouth, locking eyes with you as he licked them clean with a filthy, satisfied moan. “Still the sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted. Missed this more than you know sweetheart.”

Then he lined up the fat, leaking head of his cock against your entrance and slammed in to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

The stretch was brutal and perfect—burning pleasure as your walls were forced to accommodate his massive girth. You screamed his name, nails digging into his shoulders. He bottomed out, heavy balls pressed tight against your ass, the thick ridge of his cockhead dragging against every sensitive nerve inside you. He didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back almost fully, then drove in again, setting a punishing, relentless rhythm. The heavy, wet slap of his hips against your ass echoed with every thrust, his full balls smacking rhythmically against your skin.

“Take it,” he snarled, sweat already glistening on his muscular chest. “Take every fucking thick inch like the good girl you are.” The raw scent of sex—musky, salty, and wet—quickly overpowered the room. Your creamy arousal coated his shaft, dripping down to soak his balls and the futon.

He fucked you harder, folding you nearly in half so he could watch his veiny cock disappear into your stretched, fluttering hole. The lewd schlick-schlick-schlick of his thick cock pounding your soaked cunt was filthy and loud. Your tits bounced with every brutal snap of his hips, nipples stiff and sensitive.

Right as your orgasm began to crest, the words spilled out uncontrollably.

“I love you—” you gasped, voice breaking as the pleasure slammed into you like a tidal wave. Your walls clamped down hard around his pistoning cock, gushing and squirting around him. “Jiraiya—I love you… I’ve always loved you—”

His hips stuttered for a moment, eyes widening with something raw and possessive. Then he growled, slamming into you even harder, chasing his release while your orgasm milked his cock greedily.

“Fuck—say it again,” he demanded, voice hoarse with emotion and lust.

“I love you!” you sobbed, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down your flushed cheeks as another powerful wave crashed through you, your pussy convulsing violently.

With a deep, guttural moan that vibrated through his chest, Jiraiya buried himself to the hilt. His cock pulsed violently inside you as he came—thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your pussy in heavy, endless spurts. You felt every throb, every jet of his seed painting your walls white, filling you so full it leaked out around his thick base in creamy rivulets.

He kept grinding deep, stirring his cum inside you, prolonging the ecstasy until you were both trembling and oversensitive. When he finally stilled, he stayed buried to the hilt, cock still twitching. His massive body collapsed over yours, sweat-slick skin sliding together as he kissed you deeply—slower this time, almost reverent—while one hand gently stroked your hair.

“You meant that?” he murmured against your swollen lips, voice rough but unexpectedly soft.

“Yes,” you whispered, clenching around him deliberately. “I love you, Jiraiya. Always have.”

He let out a low, satisfied chuckle, already starting to harden again inside your cum-drenched pussy. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done with you tonight.”

He pulled out slowly, watching with dark, hungry satisfaction as a thick glob of his pearly cum oozed from your wrecked, gaping hole. Then he flipped you onto your stomach with ease, yanking your hips up high into the air. He shoved back in with a wet, filthy squelch, fucking his own cum even deeper into you from behind. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly as he started a new, powerful rhythm.

The night stretched on—round after round of raw, passionate fucking. He took you against the wall, on your knees with his cock down your throat until tears ran down your face, then bent over the low table as he railed you senseless again. By the time dawn crept through the shoji screens, you were a boneless, cum-soaked mess, marked with hickeys and handprints, thoroughly claimed.

And Jiraiya held you close through it all, whispering filthy praises and quiet confessions of his own between kisses. Two years apart had only made the fire burn hotter. He wasn’t letting you go again.

[kamuifade]

Oh my days thank you so much for that ceo Shikamaru one it was perfect! Loved it so much! 🤭❤️ I have one more ceo Shikamaru request if you can please and thank you 😅

You’re in a meeting with ceo Shikamaru and other coworkers and one of the coworkers is flirting with you. And Shikamaru keeps glancing looks and seeing the flirting and he gets extremely jealous!

———————————

The conference room felt smaller than usual, almost claustrophobic under the low hum of the air conditioning and the faint ozone buzz of the projector casting its sterile blue glow across the polished mahogany table. The air was thick, heavy with the rich, bitter aroma of expensive dark-roast coffee from the half-empty carafes, the buttery scent of well-oiled leather chairs, and the subtle, masculine musk of cologne and warm skin from the dozen executives crammed inside. Your fitted black pencil skirt hugged your hips and thighs like a second skin, the silk blouse clinging slightly to the curve of your breasts from the building's recycled heat. Legs crossed tightly under the table, you kept your tablet balanced perfectly, stylus tapping notes while trying to ignore the way the room's tension pressed in on all sides.

CEO Shikamaru Nara lounged at the head like a king who couldn't be bothered to sit up straight—dark suit jacket unbuttoned, crisp white shirt stretched across his lean chest, tie loosened just enough to reveal the sharp, enticing line of his collarbone and the faint shadow of dark hair beneath. His expression was the picture of bored genius: eyelids half-lowered, fingers idly tapping the armrest, that trademark lazy drawl hidden behind every minimal nod. But you knew better. Those sharp, obsidian eyes missed nothing. They tracked every shift in posture, every nervous glance, every bead of sweat on a department head's forehead as they droned on about Q3 forecasts.

Especially Ken from marketing, who had deliberately slid into the seat right beside you at the last minute, his thigh brushing yours under the table.

Ken leaned in again, his overpowering woody cologne—something cheap and aggressive—invading your space, his voice pitched low and intimate beneath the cover of a PowerPoint slide. “You really saved our asses with that client data last month. The way you pulled those reports together under deadline… impressive as hell. Smart, beautiful, and always one step ahead. We should celebrate properly sometime. Dinner? My treat. I know this intimate little place downtown that does amazing wine pairings—dark lighting, soft music, the kind of spot where we could really… talk.”

His hand brushed your knee under the table, fingers lingering a second too long, warm and slightly clammy as they dared to slide an inch higher along your stockinged thigh. You shifted away politely, muscles tensing, offering a tight, professional smile that didn't reach your eyes. “I appreciate it, Ken, but I’m swamped with deadlines right now.”

From the head of the table, Shikamaru’s gaze snapped to the two of you with laser focus. His fingers, previously tapping idly, stilled completely. The lazy slouch straightened by a fraction, shoulders tensing beneath the tailored fabric. A muscle ticked sharply in his jaw, and the temperature in the room seemed to plummet, the air growing heavier, charged with unspoken dominance.

Ken, oblivious and emboldened, chuckled softly and leaned even closer, his breath hot against your ear, carrying the faint tang of mint gum. “Come on, one drink won’t kill you. I’ve been dying to pick your brain… among other things.” His hand dared another brush, bolder this time, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just above your knee.

That was the final straw.

“Ken,” Shikamaru’s voice sliced through the room like a blade wrapped in silk—deceptively calm, low, and laced with icy authority that made every head turn. “If you spent less time chasing distractions and more time on your actual deliverables, maybe your projections wouldn’t look like amateur hour. Table it. Now.”

Ken jerked back as if burned, face flushing crimson, stammering a weak apology. A few coworkers exchanged uneasy glances, the air crackling with secondhand discomfort. Shikamaru’s eyes locked onto yours across the long table—dark, intense, and simmering with raw possessiveness that sent a hot, liquid rush straight to your core, your pulse quickening between your thighs.

The rest of the meeting dragged on in thick, tense silence, slides flickering forgotten. Shikamaru ended it abruptly.

“Everyone out. I need the room.” His tone left zero room for argument, sharp as a whipcrack. “You stay.”

Chairs scraped hurriedly against the carpet. Ken shot you one last disappointed, lingering look before the heavy oak door clicked shut, the automatic locks engaging with a soft, final beep. The city lights twinkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows like distant stars, but the glass walls suddenly felt far too exposed, the room now intimate and dangerous.

Shikamaru rose slowly, stalking around the table with that predatory grace he usually hid behind feigned laziness. Each step was measured, the faint rustle of his suit pants and the click of his dress shoes echoing. He stopped directly behind your chair, large hands descending on your shoulders. His fingers dug in firmly, thumbs pressing into the tight muscles there, kneading with just enough pressure to pull a sharp gasp from your lips as heat bloomed under his touch.

“Flirting in my boardroom,” he murmured, voice low and rough like gravel against your ear, his warm breath fanning across your neck and sending shivers racing down your spine. The faint scent of his cologne—clean sandalwood and something darker, smokier—enveloped you. “Letting him put his filthy hands on you while I’m right here watching. You enjoy making me sit through that shit?”

“I wasn’t—”

His grip tightened possessively, yanking you up from the chair in one fluid, effortless motion. He bent you forward over the cool, polished mahogany table, the surface shockingly cold against your flushed cheek and the swell of your breasts through the silk blouse. Papers and your tablet scattered with soft thuds and clatters. Your skirt rode up indecently as he kicked your heels apart with his foot, spreading your legs wider, the cool air kissing the heated skin of your inner thighs.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. One large hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back firmly but not painfully, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat. His teeth sank into the sensitive junction of your neck and shoulder—a sharp, claiming bite that made you whimper, the sting blooming into molten pleasure. His other hand shoved your skirt roughly up to your waist, the fabric bunching, then ripped your delicate lace panties down your thighs with impatient force, the tear of fabric loud and obscene in the quiet room.

“I saw everything,” he continued, voice thick with jealousy. “His hand creeping up your leg. That pathetic little smile you gave him. This pussy is mine.”

You were already soaked—traitorously, shamefully wet. Slick arousal coated your folds, thighs glistening under the low lights. Shikamaru groaned deep in his throat at the discovery, the sound primal and hungry. Two thick fingers slid through your drenched slit, parting your swollen lips before plunging deep inside without warning. He curled them perfectly, stroking that spongy spot inside you that made your knees buckle and your walls flutter greedily around the intrusion. The wet, squelching sounds of his fingers pumping filled the room, humiliatingly loud.

“Fuck… already dripping for me like a needy slut,” he rasped, pumping faster, scissoring and stretching you open. “Jealousy turns you on this much, huh? Getting wet while another man touches what’s mine?”

“Shikamaru… please—” you whimpered, drool threatening to spill from the corner of your parted lips, your cheek sliding slickly against the wood.

He pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving you clenching desperately around nothing, aching and empty. The metallic clink of his belt buckle and the harsh rasp of his zipper were your only warnings. The thick, heavy head of his cock—hot, velvety, and leaking precum—nudged insistently against your soaked entrance. He was rock-hard, veins pulsing along the impressive length, longer and thicker than you remembered, the girth promising to split you open so perfectly.

He thrust in to the hilt in one brutal, unrelenting stroke, bottoming out with a wet slap of skin on skin. A wrecked, broken cry tore from your throat as your walls stretched wide around him, burning deliciously, fluttering and squeezing every thick inch. The overwhelming fullness made your eyes water.

“That’s it,” he hissed through gritted teeth, grinding deep before snapping his hips again. “Take every fucking inch. Let the whole goddamn building hear how stupid my cock makes you.”

He didn’t ease you into it—jealousy had shredded his usual calculated patience. He fucked you hard and deep, the heavy mahogany table creaking and groaning under the relentless force, your hips slamming bruisingly against the edge with every powerful thrust. Your cheek slid messily against the polished wood, leaving a shiny trail of drool as your mouth hung open, slack and unable to close. Pathetic, broken moans and whimpers spilled uncontrollably—high-pitched, needy, sobbing noises that echoed off the glass walls.

“Ha—ah—Shika—fuck—! Oh god—”

“Can’t even speak properly anymore,” he laughed darkly, one hand cracking down hard on your ass, the sharp sting blooming hot and red across your skin before he gripped your hip bruisingly for leverage. The other kept your hair fisted tight, arching your back so he could drive even deeper, the fat head of his cock battering your cervix with every punishing stroke. His balls slapped wetly and rhythmically against your swollen clit, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure through you. The stretch burned so good, his cock filling and owning every inch of your pulsing heat.

You came first—hard, sudden, and shattering. Your walls clamped down around him like a vice, spasming wildly as your whole body shook violently. A loud, sobbing moan ripped from your throat, drool pooling under your cheek, thighs trembling and squirting slick arousal down your legs and onto the table.

Shikamaru cursed viciously, his pace faltering for a moment. “Good girl. Milk my cock just like that—fuck, so tight.” He fucked you through the orgasm, prolonging it until you were gasping and oversensitive, then pulled out with a wet pop. Before you could catch your breath, he flipped you onto your back on the table, legs splayed obscenely. Your skirt was bunched uselessly around your waist, blouse half-open, breasts heaving.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he drove back in, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth glide. He leaned over you, dark hair falling messily into his eyes, sweat glistening on his sharp jawline. He kissed you messily— all tongue, teeth, and raw hunger—swallowing your desperate whimpers while his hips pistoned relentlessly. One hand shoved your blouse fully open, palming your breast roughly, pinching and rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers until you arched and cried out.

“Again,” he demanded against your lips, voice gravelly and commanding. “Cum on my cock again. Show me exactly who you belong to.”

You obeyed helplessly, the second orgasm crashing over you even harder. Your vision blurred with hot tears of pleasure, body convulsing as you gushed around him, soaking his cock, his balls, and the expensive table beneath you in a messy flood of slick.

Shikamaru groaned long and low, a guttural sound of pure satisfaction, burying himself as deep as possible as he came. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy, pulse after pulse filling you until it leaked out around his still-throbbing cock. He stayed buried inside, grinding lazily through the aftershocks, pressing soft, almost apologetic kisses along your jaw and neck now that the jealous fire had burned itself out, his breath warm and ragged against your damp skin.

“Mine,” he whispered huskily, nipping gently at your earlobe. “Next time someone flirts with you in my meeting, I won’t wait until the end. Understood?”

You could only nod weakly, still drooling, panting, body limp and thoroughly fucked stupid—limbs trembling, pussy twitching around his softening length, a sticky mess of your combined fluids dripping down your thighs onto the conference table.

Shikamaru smirked, that familiar lazy, satisfied expression returning to his handsome face as he brushed damp strands of hair from your forehead with surprising tenderness.

“Clean up. You’re working late with me tonight.”

[kamuifade]

*falls out of a tree*

Could i request a Shikaku Nara drabble of him being gentle and taking care of reader during sex? Just reader being needy and Shikaku giving her Exactly what she needs, kissing her all over and caressing her as he does... Shikaku is such a dilf #needthat

If possible I'd love to see a bit of an age gap between adults added in!(im a sucker for older men being adoring to their slightly younger gf-)

——————————-

You lie spooned against Shikaku on the bed, the room softly illuminated by a single bedside lamp that bathes everything in a warm, golden haze. The air is thick with the mingled scents of sandalwood incense, clean sweat, and the unmistakable heady musk of your arousal. His massive, sturdy frame curls protectively around your smaller body—broad chest pressed flush to your back, the coarse hair on his torso tickling your skin, powerful thighs bracketing yours so you’re completely enveloped by his heat and strength.

One of his thick arms slides beneath you, forearm cradling your ribs while his large, calloused hand cups your breast, thumb lazily circling your pebbled nipple. His other arm drapes over your hip, fingers delving between your slick thighs with slow, deliberate intent.

“Relax for me, sweetheart,” Shikaku murmurs, his deep voice a low rumble that vibrates straight through your spine. His lips brush the sensitive shell of your ear, warm breath fanning over it as he speaks. “I’ve got all night to play with this pretty pussy.”

His thick fingers glide through your drenched folds, parting your swollen, puffy lips with slick, obscene sounds. You’re soaked—embarrassingly wet—your juices coating his digits and dripping down onto the sheets. He teases your entrance, circling it slowly, before finally pressing two thick fingers inside you.

The stretch is delicious, his fingers so much thicker than your own, filling and rubbing against your sensitive inner walls as he sinks them to the knuckle. You moan sharply, hips twitching back against him instinctively. Shikaku groans deeply in response, the sound rough and hungry, his hard cock—thick and heavy—twitching against the curve of your ass through his thin pants.

“Fuck… listen to how wet you are,” he breathes, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. The lewd, squelching sounds of your slick pussy fill the room with every gentle thrust. “So hot and tight around me. Your little cunt is sucking my fingers in like it doesn’t want to let go.”

He curls his digits just right, stroking that spongy spot inside you while the heel of his palm grinds firmly against your swollen clit with each pass. The dual stimulation sends sparks of white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine. Your juices coat his hand, dripping messily down his wrist and onto the sheets in shiny rivulets. The wet, rhythmic sounds grow louder as he works you open, his pace steady and unhurried, drawing out every gasp and whimper from your lips.

Shikaku’s free hand pinches and rolls your nipple, sending jolts straight to your core. His mouth is everywhere—kissing and sucking lightly along your neck and shoulder, leaving faint red marks, his stubble rasping deliciously against your sensitive skin. “That’s it… rock those hips for me. Use my hand, baby. I love feeling you get even wetter for me.”

Your breathing turns into desperate little pants and whines. The coil of pleasure tightens low in your belly, thighs trembling as you clench rhythmically around his invading fingers. He keeps murmuring filthy praise right against your ear:

“You feel so fucking good inside… hot, silky, and gripping me like velvet. Makes me wonder how much better my cock would feel buried in this greedy little hole.” He nips your earlobe. “But tonight is about you. Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel this tight pussy flutter and milk my fingers. Be good and soak my hand.”

The orgasm crashes into you hard. Your back arches sharply against his solid chest, thighs clamping down around his wrist as your walls spasm violently around his fingers. A fresh gush of slick floods out around his digits, squirting messily over his palm and down your thighs in warm, sticky rivulets. You cry out, voice breaking into a long, shuddering moan as wave after wave of intense pleasure rips through you.

Shikaku growls softly in satisfaction, keeping his fingers buried deep as he gently works you through every pulsing aftershock, drawing out your climax until you’re a trembling, oversensitive wreck in his arms. Only then does he slowly withdraw, his fingers glistening with your cum. He brings them to his mouth, licking them clean with a deep, appreciative hum while holding your hazy gaze.

He kisses your sweat-dampened temple tenderly, then your flushed cheek, pulling you even tighter against his body. His hard cock presses insistently against you, but he makes no move to seek his own release yet—content to cradle you close, his large hand returning to cup your soaked, still-twitching pussy possessively.

“So perfect,” he whispers against your hair, voice thick with affection and lust. “My sweet, needy girl. I could stay like this for hours… feeling you drip for me.”

[kamuifade]

I am CLOSING my requests for now and will open them back up once I’ve cleared out my inbox a little 😭🙏😔 the pookies gave me what I asked for but at what cost

I pinned my rules page to the top of my blog and once my requests are back open I will let everyone know! Thank you for understanding!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[kamuifade]

Hear me out. Shikamaru with breeding kink but he’s OBSESSED with readers boobs. Like I mean he wakes up holding them subconsciously and his obsession comes out in weird ways.

———————————-

You wake up slowly, the world filtering in through a haze of warmth and the familiar, comforting weight of Shikamaru’s arm draped heavily across your chest. His large hand cups one of your breasts possessively, like it was made to fit there—and in his mind, it always has been. Even in sleep, your lazy genius seeks them out, his fingers loosely curled around the soft, yielding flesh, palm warm and slightly calloused from years of shogi pieces and kunai handles. The heat of his skin radiates into yours, thumb resting just beneath the swell, while his slow, even breaths fan hot and steady against the sensitive nape of your neck. Lower down, you feel him stirring, his thick cock already half-hard, nestled snugly against the plush curve of your ass, twitching faintly as blood rushes south.

“Shika…” you murmur, voice husky with sleep, shifting your hips just enough to press back into him, letting the velvety head of his shaft glide along your skin.

He hums low in his throat, a deep, rumbling vibration you feel more than hear. Not fully awake, but his body responds instinctively—his hand squeezes your breast with deliberate, lazy pressure, fingers sinking into the malleable softness. The motion makes your nipple tighten instantly, pebbling hard against his palm. “Mmm… mine,” he mumbles, voice gravelly and thick with drowsiness. His thumb circles the stiffened peak slowly, teasing the sensitive bud until sparks of pleasure shoot straight down to your core. At the same time, his hips roll forward in a sleepy grind, pressing his growing erection firmer between your cheeks, the hot, heavy length pulsing as it swells to full hardness.

You’ve long since learned that fighting his obsession is futile. Shikamaru is subtle in every other aspect of life—strategic, understated, a shadow among shadows—but with your tits, he’s shamelessly greedy. He stares openly during missions when no one’s looking, “accidentally” lets his forearm brush their underside when reaching for a weapon, and leaves faint, possessive hickeys blooming along the tops of your cleavage in stolen moments alone. Mornings like this? He doesn’t even pretend to hold back.

His hand slips under the thin fabric of your tank top, rough fingertips grazing your ribs before pushing the material up and over your breasts. They spill free with a soft, heavy bounce, nipples already aching and flushed. Shikamaru groans softly, the sound raw and needy, burying his face deeper into your hair as he palms them fully—lifting, squeezing, weighing their fullness in his hands like priceless treasures. His breath hitches. “These are gonna look so fucking good when they’re full,” he mutters, voice dropping into that dangerous, sleepy drawl that always makes your pussy clench. “Heavy… swollen… leaking sweet milk for me.”

A rush of molten heat floods your core at his words, arousal slicking between your thighs. His breeding kink has always burned hot, but combined with this fixation on your breasts, it turns almost feral—raw, primal need wrapped in his trademark laziness.

You arch into his touch with a soft whimper, and his dark eyes finally slit open, heavy-lidded with hunger. In one fluid, efficient motion, he rolls you onto your back, hovering over you like a shadow come to life. He yanks your shirt the rest of the way off and tosses it aside. His mouth descends immediately—hot, wet, and ravenous. He sucks one nipple deep into the velvet heat of his mouth, tongue swirling and lapping at the stiff peak while his hand kneads the other breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between skilled fingers until you’re whimpering and squirming beneath him. The wet suction sounds obscene in the quiet room, his saliva coating your skin, cooling slightly as it trails down the curve of your breast.

His free hand trails down your body, calluses scraping lightly over your stomach before pushing your panties aside. Thick fingers find your folds already slick and swollen, parting them easily to circle your dripping entrance. “Always so fucking ready for me,” he praises against your glistening skin, teeth grazing your nipple before he switches sides, sucking the other peak harder, hollowing his cheeks with greedy pulls. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy today. Pump you full of my cum until it takes… until you’re carrying my kid.”

He wastes no time on teasing. Shikamaru is efficient even in his obsessions. He hooks your thighs over his elbows, folding you nearly in half, your knees pressing toward your shoulders. The position exposes you completely, your soaked cunt glistening and clenching in anticipation. He lines up the fat head of his cock—thick, veined, and leaking precum—and pushes in with one deep, relentless thrust. The stretch is exquisite, burning pleasure as he fills you to the hilt, his pelvis grinding hard against your swollen clit. You gasp sharply, the angle letting his cock drag perfectly over that sensitive spot inside you with every inch.

“Fuck… look at them bounce,” he groans, eyes locked on your chest as he starts moving. Each powerful snap of his hips sends your breasts jiggling heavily, the soft flesh rippling with the force. He can’t tear his gaze away, mesmerized. He leans down, catching one bouncing tit in his mouth again, sucking messily—tongue flicking, teeth nipping—while he fucks you harder. The wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin fills the room, mingled with the lewd squelch of your juices coating his shaft and dripping down to your ass.

You claw at his shoulders, nails digging into muscle, moaning his name like a prayer. He releases your nipple with a wet pop, thin strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to your shiny, reddened peak. “These are gonna swell up so nice when you’re carrying my kid,” he pants, voice strained with building pleasure, sweat beading on his forehead. “Gonna be even softer… heavier… so fucking sensitive. I’ll suck them every morning just like this, drinking from you while I fuck you slow.”

His thrusts grow deeper, more purposeful, hips rolling with that lazy power that hits every perfect spot. You feel him getting close—his cock twitching and thickening inside you, balls drawing up tight against your ass. When his rhythm falters, he buries himself to the hilt with a low, guttural groan that vibrates through your joined bodies. Thick, hot spurts of cum flood your pussy, pulse after pulse painting your walls white.

But Shikamaru doesn’t stop there. Strong hands grip the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees even closer to your shoulders as he keeps pumping through his orgasm, shallow, grinding thrusts that force every drop deeper. “That’s it… take every fucking drop,” he growls, eyes dark with satisfaction as he stares down at where your pussy stretches obscenely around his cock. “Gonna keep you like this. Legs up, pussy full and plugged. Can’t waste a single drop of my seed.”

He finally collapses on top of you, still buried deep inside your clenching heat, one hand immediately returning to your breast. He squeezes the soft mound gently, thumb brushing over the swollen, spit-slick nipple as he catches his breath, chest heaving against yours.

“Troublesome woman,” he murmurs affectionately against your damp skin, already half-hard again, twitching inside you. “Making me this obsessed. Now I gotta fuck you again… just to make sure it sticks.”

His mouth finds your other breast, sucking lazily, tongue swirling in slow circles as his hips begin to move once more—deliberate, rolling thrusts designed to keep his cum right where he wants it: deep inside your fertile, dripping pussy, ensuring nothing escapes.

[kamuifade]

Chapstick challenge with Kakashi and he gets really flustered and super into it?! I can’t imagine him who getting flustered by his partner super easily but I think he loves kissing and making out… So having an excuse to do it feels so sexy, like something out of a romance book WIIINK WINK. Idk just something I love about sensual, intimate, blushy kissing

——————————

The apartment was wrapped in that perfect lazy-evening hush—rain drumming a soft, steady rhythm against the tall windows, the city lights below blurred into hazy gold and silver streaks. Only one lamp glowed in the corner, casting warm amber light across the living room and turning Kakashi’s pale skin into something almost golden. He lounged deep in the oversized couch, long legs stretched out, wearing those dangerously soft gray sweatpants and a fitted black compression shirt that hugged every lean line of muscle. His mask lay discarded on the coffee table beside the little pack of chapsticks, leaving his full face exposed—sharp jaw, the faint scar over his left eye, and those expressive graphite-gray eyes that always gave away more than he wanted.

You knelt between his knees on the couch, holding up the strawberry chapstick like a challenge. “Ready?”

Kakashi exhaled a quiet laugh, but his fingers drummed once against your thigh. “This feels like a trap,” he murmured, voice already lower than usual. A faint dusting of pink colored the tops of his cheeks. “You know how much I like kissing you. Giving me an excuse is just… unfair.”

“That’s the point.” You swiped the strawberry across your lips, the sweet artificial scent filling the small space between you. Then you leaned in.

The first kiss was gentle, almost playful—your lips brushing his in a slow, deliberate press. Kakashi’s breath hitched audibly. His hand came up immediately, fingers threading into the hair at the nape of your neck as if afraid you’d pull away too soon. He tasted the flavor on you with a low, appreciative hum that vibrated against your mouth. When you started to draw back, he chased the kiss for half a second longer, lips clinging softly.

“Strawberry,” he guessed, eyes half-lidded and already darker. The blush had deepened, spreading across his cheekbones in a way that made your chest tighten. “Next.”

You switched to cherry. This time he didn’t wait passively. The moment your lips met, Kakashi tilted his head and kissed you properly—slow, sensual, and devastatingly thorough. His mouth moved against yours with practiced patience, savoring the sweet cherry taste mixed with the natural warmth of you. One hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until you were straddling one of his thighs. The cool tingle of artificial flavor gave way to the heat of his tongue tracing your bottom lip, asking for entrance. When you granted it, he groaned softly—barely audible, but it sent electricity racing down your spine.

He kissed like he was memorizing you: deep, lingering strokes of tongue, gentle sucks on your lower lip, the occasional nip that made you shiver. When you finally parted for air, his forehead rested against yours. His breathing was noticeably heavier, chest rising and falling beneath the compression shirt.

“Cherry,” he whispered, voice rough. His thumb stroked your flushed cheek. “You’re dangerous. This whole thing is dangerous.”

You smiled, applying mint next. Kakashi’s eyes tracked the motion of the chapstick tube with rapt attention, pupils blown wide. The blush now reached the tips of his ears, turning them a lovely shade of red that contrasted beautifully with his silver hair.

The mint kiss ignited something. The cool, fresh flavor exploded between you as your lips met, but Kakashi immediately deepened it, hands gripping your hips with a barely restrained hunger. He pulled you fully into his lap this time, your knees sinking into the couch on either side of him. The kiss turned molten—slow, wet slides of lips and tongue, the minty tingle heightening every sensation. His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, tracing warm patterns along your lower back while his other hand cradled your jaw, tilting your head exactly how he wanted. A soft, needy sound escaped him when you threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly.

“M-Mint,” he managed when you broke apart, but his voice cracked. He looked thoroughly wrecked already—silver hair mussed, lips slightly swollen and shiny, that signature cool composure shattered by a deep, endearing blush that painted his entire face. “God… I love this excuse. It feels like we’re in one of those romance books you read. Just… an excuse to keep tasting you.”

You barely had time to reach for the vanilla before he was tugging you back down. The game had officially dissolved. Kakashi kissed you like a man who had been waiting years for permission—deep, consuming presses that left you dizzy. Vanilla mixed with the lingering mint and cherry on his tongue created something intoxicating. He explored your mouth with sensual thoroughness, tongue stroking yours in long, languid caresses that made heat pool low in your belly. One of his hands slid up your spine, pressing you flush against his chest so you could feel the rapid thud of his heart. The other stayed on your hip, fingers flexing with each slow roll of your bodies together.

He broke the kiss only to trail his lips along your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck before returning to your mouth with renewed fervor. His cheeks were burning, breath coming in warm pants against your skin. “Don’t stop,” he murmured between kisses, voice husky and intimate. “I don’t care about the flavors anymore. I just want you—your lips, your taste, the way you make that little sound when I do this—”

He demonstrated by catching your bottom lip between his teeth gently, then soothing it with his tongue in a way that made your toes curl. You could feel the heat radiating off his flushed face, the slight tremor in his hands as he held you like you were something precious and addictive all at once. Rain continued its soft patter against the windows, but the only sounds that mattered were the wet clicks of lips, shared breaths, and the occasional quiet groan Kakashi couldn’t quite suppress.

Time stretched. The chapsticks lay scattered and forgotten. Kakashi’s usual aloof mask was completely gone, replaced by this soft, blushy, utterly devoted version of him who kissed you like the world outside didn’t exist. Slow, sensual, and deeply intimate—every glide of tongue and brush of lips laced with affection and barely contained desire.

When you finally paused for air, foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling, Kakashi’s silver eyes met yours with a rare, unguarded warmth. His cheeks were still beautifully pink, lips kiss-swollen, hair a complete mess from your fingers.

“Best worst idea you’ve ever had,” he whispered, voice tender and rough all at once. He leaned in to steal one more slow, lingering kiss, as if he physically couldn’t help himself. “Stay right here. I’m nowhere near done with you tonight.”

Outside, the rain kept falling. Inside, Kakashi kept kissing you—lost in the kind of intimate, romance-novel moment he secretly craved.

[kamuifade]

Crying, screaming, and Begging on my knees for Drabble requests for:

Sasuke

Obito

Itachi

Kakashi

Send your horny (or not so horny) thoughts my way!

[kamuifade]

hey hey 😛 figured I would update everyone on my current WIPs just so everyone can stay updated 🙂‍↕️

Shikamaru college AU: airhead (this is so self indulgent I can’t 😭 literally don’t even know how to explain this one other than I’m a huge sucker for dumbification and I need more fics with that specific kink biblically)

Itachi modern AU: best friend’s brother (older!pervert!Itachi who is down bad for his brothers best friend and instead of being normal about his feelings he steals your panties instead)

Shikamaru modern AU: sweet ruin (you have a terrible habit of stealing shikamaru’s snacks, which backfires when you accidentally eat an entire bag of aphrodisiac chocolates without knowing. Shikamaru is kind of an asshole about it)

Naruto modern AU: pool boy (you’re a rich neglected housewife who hires a pool cleaning company from TikTok to come maintenance your pool, and Naruto is the one who shows up. He ends up tending to a lot more than your pool 😩)

and of course, drabbles!! I am constantly working on drabbles (the grind never stops fr)

Also, I am slowly beginning to plan out Kinktober even though it’s July, bc if I don’t I’m going to run in front of a train 🚊🏃‍♀️ and I don’t know the meaning of the word relax ☺️