Here we have some handsome shinobi men, all of them addicted and can’t help themselves when they feel you around them in the best way possible. Pūssy drunk might be the words what describes them when they have you in their hands.
Hello world, it’s me being back, this time with more of a thirst like thing here. I picked out 5 of our beloved men and decided to write some smutty smut ✨🌚 so I hope you enjoy 🤌🏻🤌🏻
Wordcount: 4,7k
Warnings: Sm*t, p in v, pūssy drunk men, praising, sometimes a little degrading
MDNI
Neji Hyuga ~ Got him surprisingly hooked…
„Keep moving, baby." you heard him and hell was he whipped. You were his precious girl on top of him. Dragging your cute pussy up and down his shaft. These cute pants because you draw out of breath. His right hand glued to your hip. His gaze solemnly locked onto your face. Sometimes dropping watching how enticingly your gorgeous tits bounced for him.
„I... I can't baby. My legs..." you stuttered, but your cute reply followed by a sweet moan. And then you could listen to a snicker of him. Neji never just snickered or grinned, just like he did now. Every time he fucked you, he was a little rough because he knew you liked it. But after that training today, you offered to ride him. Little did you know he enjoyed it so much that it had been hours now. He stuffed your puffy pussy full of his cum. Enjoying how it dribbled out of you. Every few moments, he dragged his thumb down your slit. How your pussy tried to take his dick. The little shudder you did when he wiped over your soaping wet clit.
But now, he was drunk on that pussy. He couldn't stop, nor did he want to stop. No matter how composed Neji truly was when it was about you, especially now you were being on top of him. He can't deny that he loved watching you like this. The feel of your little cunt squeezing him, and fluttered when he dragged the curve of his dick right to the spot where you needed it.
When he grabbed your hips just to slam you down a little more. Just to listen how your wet pussy would be squelching around him. To watch how a creamy ring formed around his base.
Neji usually never the one who talked much. Indeed, he tried to keep his noises in check. No matter how hot you think he was, he always thought he wouldn't deserve a girlfriend like you. And then have her so pretty spread out for him. Sometimes when you were lucky he praised you and calling you „a good girl" before he smacked your ass, just how he knew you liked it.
But right now? The groan he let out, the way his head fell in the pillows. You tried to keep up with his stamina, a cute try, but you couldn't. Legs and thighs already shaking. Your pussy still so sloppy from all the cumming.
„I said keep moving. Want this pretty pussy to cum again." he said, he just noticed how wet you seemed to get when he talked to you like this. Grabbing a good chunk of your ass when he leaned forward now.
„I need her to cum again, feels so good when she is....ah, trying to milk every last bit." his jaw clenched slightly. You felt so good being wrapped around him. So warm and soft and so fucking wet. You felt how he ground you against him. Your clit rubbing against his pelvis, making your hands lay on his chest. As you tried to steady yourself.
„Her?" you asked, a little blush on your cheeks, and not just because his thick cock was inside you. He didn't want you to stop. To satisfied with the way you bounced on top of him. Too mesmerized how your sweet pussy was taking every mean inch of him. Every drag he made you do on his dick was just getting meaner. But damn he was pussy drunk. „Yes, this sweet pussy of yours."
Usually when his sweet girl couldn't take it any longer, he was a gentleman, flipping you over to pound into you in the best way possible. But not today. Not when he had his girl so sloppy on top of him.
"Such a messy girl, you are. So sloppy and wet." he stated with a husky tone, god he was gone. He felt too good right now.
„Please, Neji." *you added, but he just grabbed your waist, giving you a hold before he made you slam down his dick over and over again. His hips bucking up into your welcoming heat.
And then you heard him groan, his lavender eyes rolling back, pretty lips parted slightly.
„Feels too good, your pussy feels too good." he said, his voice strained with the effort to not just whine, but the feeling how your walls grabbing him was too good, so he failed.
„Sooo tight." he added, and you heard a gasp from his throat. Yourself being busy with moaning. Already felt the next orgasm approaching....aware this wouldn't be the end of this. He would fuck you long enough until you would being sore the next morning.
Shikamaru Nara ~ Taking his sweet time…
Shikamaru was a man, when he was pussy drunk he wouldn't just rut into you because it felt so good. He was a man who appreciated every little move your cute pussy made. Savoring the feeling, so sensual, it had you being impatient and needy.
Thighs spread as he grabbed with both hands the back of them, spreading them just a little more apart. A low groan was coming out of his mouth. Eyes locked with your pussy and how pretty your petals part for him, as he sunk into you, so slow. Every inch, slowly inserting to let you feel every curve and vein of him. Your lips shaped in a pretty ‚o' hoping he would finally fuck you how you needed it. Because this was like the nth time, he just slowly pushed inside you to pull out completely and doing it all over again. And this time not just for teasing no, he enjoyed your cunt to the fullest, the way it fit so snugly around him.
„Shikaaaa." you pouted and this was then the only time he took his dark eyes away from your pussy. A hand coming to lay on your cheek, thumb gazing your bottom lip.
„Stop pouting, let me savor this...perfect pussy." he said to you, already aware how needy you were. Alone the way your juices flowed out, the way you clenched around his tip when he pushed into you so damn slowly.
„Can't a man enjoy his girl's pussy, hm?" his breath tickled your ear when he leaned down. And then with a little harder thrust making you moan. He was mean.
„You do this for hours. I need you, why you are so mean." you spoke, but it was followed by a small gasp when his other hand came to drag a thumb over your clit, making your eyes close shortly.
„Is it my fault when someone got a cunt that is squeezing me in the most delicious way?" he asked, making you tremble when his thumb circled your clit over and over again so slow. You felt his fat cock pulsing inside you. As you tried to drag down your pussy just a little more. „It's just so addicting, sweetheart. You can't blame me, can you?" he purred before you finally felt that he was starting to move. Still a slow and sensual pace. Shikamaru nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck before you heard that deep groan in your ear, that made you so fucking wet. He sounded so sexy when he was enjoying you to his fullest.
Your fingers went to his hair, gently tugging on the strands that still were bound in his signature ponytail. You felt every vein on his shaft, and slowly he gave in to it, you what you craved so much. Your boyfriend stopped fucking you so lazy after he savored every little clench and flutter of your tight wet heat.
„Feels already better." you sighted cute, and he started to pick up more pace. Licking over your salty, sweet skin on your neck. Hands laying on your hips before he dragged his shaft all the way in just to bottom out and slam into you.
„God, Shika." you whined already. It was always like this, complaining when he teased you too much but whining when he finally started fucking you. Really fucking you. You were even better than watching clouds. Watching how your pretty tits bounced when he slammed into you was a sight to behold for him.
The way your heated skin clung to his. Or when you threw your arms over his shoulders. This was the moment he got so lost in your perfect little cunt.
„Fuck...look at that always so greedy and needy and when I give in you start whining." he murmured with a growl nipping on the sensitive skin behind your ear making you shudder. Then he decided to get a little up, grabbing your hips just a little tighter. Before he gave into the feeling of your heavenly cunt and started pounding. Head fell in the back of his neck. Exposing his adam apple that bobbed when he swallowed thickly because only you and your pretty little pussy could make him feel like this.
You were just shortly able to take in this sight. The way his body looked so good covered in a little sweat from the hours he just wanted to feel you wrapped around him. Your juices all over his cock. Your fingers laid against his lower abdomen, when he now was just able to use you how he saw fit and needed it.
„Gorgeous fucking girl, feeling so good around me. Makes me nearly lose my...urgh composure." he muttered under his breath, just seconds before you could listen to that whine what escaped his parted lips. Just to gave you a particular hard thrust after this.
He was so pussy drunk now. Lost in that heat that took every inch of him so well. Your pussy sucking in his dick. Your lazy boyfriend who just got so addicted to the feeling of you around him.
Thick cock pounding you now extra hard after that whine that he let out. Although, he didn't deny that you made him feel this good. As if every expectation that were placed on him fell off his shoulders. Just you and him and this damn good feeling of you squeezing him. The lewd squelches of your sex and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.
„Nearly? I am sure I heard you whine." you panted a little cheeky and this was the moment he looked down at you. Before he decided to push the digit of his thumb in your mouth. To make you shut up and giving you something to be busy.
You sucked on his thumb, delicate plump lips wrapped around the thick digit as you looked so pretty fucked out while he could continue to get just more high on your dripping pussy.
„What a drag when pretty girl is being so cocky. You should learn to think before you open these beautiful lips to speak." was the only thing he said to you before his free hand slapped your pussy, making contact with your clit. Just to listen to the next whine you let off, followed by a deep groan. Making his eyes roll back in bliss before he continued to fuck you just how he needed it when he was this whipped by you.
Naruto Uzumaki ~ Drilling you with no end…
„Just the tip, baby, please." he let out, groaning again when his weeping tip smeared his pre cum over the hot slit of your pussy. When Naruto was pussy drunk, he fucks like nothing else.
He already made you cum three times in a row. Himself spilling his seed into you and well he had so much energy he simply needed you and his pretty girls pussy that felt so damn good around him.
And now, after your last shattering orgasm, you nearly crawled away from him. His hand laid on your plush rear, dragging you back to him. Angry red tip brushing over your clit, making your back arch just a little more.
„Baby, I don't know if I can take it." you pouted, and yet he felt how you leaned a little into his touch.
Naruto was aware how greedy he had been. But what should he do? He loved you, and he loved stuffing your pussy full of him. You were just so soft and when he was inside you, shit, he couldn't help then to just push his length in these dripping walls of yours and make you all these cute little noises he liked so much. He enjoyed watching your ass a little jiggle when he trusted inside you.
The blonde boy leaned over your back. His chest pressed against your skin. One hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Breath tickling your ear.
„You always take me so good, sweetheart. I just can't help it when you bend over sooooo..." he started before he made his tip disappear inside your weeping right entrance. Making you gasp and lift your had a little.
„....pretty and inviting. Your cute pussy begs me to put it inside, you know?" he ended his sentence just to listen to the lewd, sloppy squelch of your cunt.
Naruto was always a golden retriever boyfriend. Full of energy and happy, trying to make you happy for sure. But hell, when he was so whipped with your creamy pussy. He just couldn't stop.
Having you all bend over so nicely. Ass on display, ready for him to grab your soft skin, pull you back onto his dripping dick.
"I know? You say this for like the third time. I will be so sore tomorrow." you whimpered, but your pussy spread so willingly to let more inside than just his fat tip.
His dick was slightly curved, dragging along your gripping walls.
Naruto hissed as soon as he felt how you already clenched around him. He couldn't wait, of course not, Whenever could someone like Naruto wait and be patient without just going after his instinct?
With a gentle tug on your hips his whole length, sheathed in that familiar warmth, coating his cock, making him feel all the more butterflies in his tummy...or more his balls, perhaps.
You gasped and draw a sharp breath, your hands fisting the messy sheets underneath you.
"The fourth, actually, pretty. That's the fourth time. And you just feel even more better. Shit..." he corrected you, of course he counted, as if ever would pass the chance to count the times he fucked you, raw and how often you came all over his pretty dick.
At least he gave you a moment, adjusting so snugly to him. As if you would mold into the perfect shape for him. His cute girlfriend never failed to please him. Never failed to look so good in his sky blue eyes.
This man would ravish you anytime of the day. You wore a hoodie and having messy hair? Damn, you looked hot to him, hands grabbing under the thick fabric.
You made yourself pretty because you went out? Well, he would need just to show you how much he adored your cute outfit.
But now? Hell, it was just in the morning, you not even made it out of bed before. Technically, he wanted to make you some cute breakfast. The one time he was sooner awake than you. He could be the cutest dork ball. But when he tried to wake you up, watching how your shirt slipped up, exposing your ass to him, it was over.
So instead of feeding you breakfast, he fed you 7 inches of his dick. Making your eyes wide, and he just loved hearing your cute little 'ah' over and over again. This pussy got him hooked right in the morning, his eyes rolling back as he grabbed your hips nearly bruising as soon as he was inside you and gave you this short amount of time to adjust again he started to rut into you, so fast. His own eyes crossing.
"I never get tired of this, I swear. You're just so wet...and take me so well. You are such a good princess, you know? My pretty princess with even a more pretty pussy." he started to babble, to tell yo how good you were to him while he rearranged your guts again and again.
He always praised you so sweet as if he wouldn't fuck the shit out of you, in the early morning.
"Na-Naruto. Slow...ah slow down." you panted but as answer? Oh, he gently pushed your head in the mattress, of course before he ever does that he had asked you if this was ok with you. Since you told him you liked it when he was a little rough. And now? God, he wanted to hear your pussy talk to him, and he couldn't slow down at all, not when you were wrapped around him like this.
Yourself starting to drool by the way his dick was drilling inside you.
"Sorry, baby, I give you...fuck. I give you the best aftercare you can wish for, but I need you like this now. Bend over and drilling into this snug cunt of yours." he told you, groaning before he got lost inside your depth all over again.
Kakashi Hatake ~ „You can give me another one…“
Sensei knows what he is doing, so aware, he won't stop so soon. Having his sweet girl in a mean mating press, having you in such a tight grip when he bends your knees down to your chest.
Watching how your jaw hung slack, and your eyes looked at him in shock that it was already the third time he came inside you, not even flinching to just fuck his cum right back into you.
"Kashi..." you tried to speak, but you were made shut up when his girthy dick stretched you out so delicious, making you throb so needy and yet so breathless.
"You do so great for me, sweetheart." he praised, his voice so steady and filled with adoration. He loved his girl, oh he did, so much. But he also loved the way you were able to stretch around him, how your pink pussy parts for him. The way you always whined how you couldn't anymore, but your pretty cunt told him something different.
He sank down his dick as he just put more weight into you, until he was inside you to the hilt. Pelvis grinding against you, making you shudder and roll your eyes back when the gentle curve hit your cervix. These white silver hairs from his happy trail tickling your puffy folds.
Making you all the way more desperate for him.
"You said you would be done...darling." you breathed when you tried to not just cum again like a whore just because he put his dick back into your dripping entrance.
Before he said something you could listen to the husky small chuckle, before he pulled down his mask, just to flash you a small smirk. Before he spit down, a stream of spit right onto your aching clit.
Leaning just a little more over to look you right in your wide doe eyes before his hand found the way between your thighs, slowly smearing his spit along your swollen nub, making you whimper.
"Just one more time, my sweet. I just love getting you so full, you always have this adorable pout." he said, and you could listen that even when he seemed to be so composed, hell Kakahsi was gone.
You gripped him so tight, making it hard for him to not just pound into you all over again, giving you a little time to relax...as far as this is possible with his thick cock inside you. Muscles flexing when he grabbed your thigh tighter pressing you down and literally folding you in half in a sweet, sweet mating press.
After all, he liked seeing it when you took every ounce of his cum inside you. Every creamy string that he shoot into your womb, nothing would go to waste, right? Well, he simply fucked it back into you. Kakahsi was so drunk from your pussy that he only managed to let out a shaky groan, while he continued to rub over your nub.
And there it was this little pout he adored so much, just then he decided to move again.
Dragging his pulsating cock along your inner walls. Nearly bottoming out so just the tip remained inside, before he gave you a long deep stroke.
Lips parting to moan for him.
"See you take me so well, how can I not want to see this expression of yours? You are such a good girl for me, aren't you?" his voice like some sinful silk wrapping around you, making you nod with teary eyes when he started to fuck you, it was not that fast, but he was so deep. Savoring your tight passage in the best way possible.
"Come on, tell me how good you want to be for me, yeah? You can do that right. Use your words, darling." he urged you, making you whimper again with the next thrust of his hips.
Thumb circled your clit with such a precision it made it so hard for you to think about words. Your skin flushed when he talked like this.
"Want to be....nghh good for you." you managed to say, earning a low rumble in his chest that was a chuckle, before his pickup his pace just a little, both hands on your thighs now. Looking right into your face.
"And good girls, can take one more. Just one more pretty orgasm, one more shudder of your pretty pussy. So shamelessly spread for me." he whispered against your lips then, not kissing you yet, although you wanted him to.
A little loving tease he was. Giving you the meanest treatment with his cock that was pulsating inside you, and yet he cooed you into a soothing balm of his voice.
Indeed, he groaned again at the feeling how you started to clench, and flutter around him. Increasing his pace now, hips snapping against yours. Even when he was not breaking a sweat doing this, but oh you felt so good to him, he couldn't get enough.
"Ahhh god... I am-" you didn't manage to speak properly, eyes rolling back. And you couldn't help to loll your tongue out. Kakashi loved to see you like this, so fucked out, and yet your pussy didn't get enough.
"Hmm, such a cute little slut for me, cumming all along my cock... So adorable." he cooed while looking down at you. Pussy feeling too hot, too slick and too good. Even when he said one more...it wasn't just one more before he fucked you through the next orgasm all over again and would pump you so full of his own cum....
Itachi Uchiha ~ Falling simply more in love…
When Itachi was pussy drunk, god, he couldn't help then to hold you close, feeling your hot skin against his. Can't even believe that this cute girl was all his. That you let him have this heavenly access to the paradise between your legs. Hands grabbing everywhere where they could reach, kissing your skin, cooing the sweet little nothing's in your ear, while you took his mean, mean dick all the way inside. Itachi had you in reverse cowgirl now. Your plush rear so pretty on display watching how your pink pussy stretched around his length. How you swallowed every delicious inch of him, again and again and again.
Making the shinobi groan in adoration. He never had seen a more beautiful sight. Although, it was hard for him to decide if he liked it more to see your beautiful face contoured in pleasure when he was putting inside his thick inches. Or if he likes it more facing your backside in this angle having you bounce on him, so eagerly to please him.
You made him just so weak, so weak for your perfect little cunt, it had him gasping. He sat up just to feel you close, even when you rode him reverse into oblivion, he was sure you did.
Eyes closed and yet he saw everything. Lips nipping against your skin, tasting sweet, salty skin. Inhaling your scent. You always smelled so sweet to him but now when you were bouncing on his dick...hell, the smell of your arousal, it turned him on to no end. One strong arm wrapped around your waist, loosely, so you still could drag your wet cunt down his shaft.
"You look so pretty love, so pretty...hmm for me." he murmured against your ear, breath hot over it.
"Do I? Mind to tell me that again?" you asked, no matter how much you thought you would be in control it was Itachi who chuckled, giving into the wishes of his princess. Letting you think you might have had control, although since he was now so whipped with your pussy, you might even have.
"Don't be so rude when you take me this sloppy all the way in." he spoke while his free hand tugged back a strand of hair, before he kissed your cheekbone. Hands now both on the curve of your hip, helping you to slam down just a little harder onto him.
"Fuck." you moaned then, feeling his hard, thick cock just more deep. Making you wiggle down onto him, this had him groaning again, so deep. Holding you so close now, looking down to see how cute your ass jiggled when he thrusted upwards.
"You have no idea how good you feel wrapped around me like this, it's like heaven." the dark haired man let you know. Oh, he was so lovely to you, even when he noticed how shaky your legs got, how breathy your cute moans were from the way he hit the spot inside you.
As much as he loved fucking you full of his cum, he enjoyed to hold back his massive load for you. Making you a cum a few times on him, just so you would end up, to beg him so cute if he finally gives you his creamy, thick white cum. Such a slut you were for your boyfriend.
"Itachi, baby. Want your cum." you pouted, he was sure he could hear it, before he thrusted sharp up again. Both arms wrapping around you now as he pressed his front to your back.
"You really do, hm? I can tell your legs grow numb, huh? Pretty girl too weak, to take me?" he teased husky, gently biting your neck, what made you whimper.
Not even arguing this time with him.
"Fine, I grant you what you wish, my darling." he murmured before he let go of you laying down back in the pillows, grabbing your soft flesh of your bouncy ass.
Helping you to thrust back onto his massive shaft, over and over again.
Biting his lower lip gently when he watched the lewd display, when the noise of your skin clapping against his, was heard. The way the bed creaked. It was just so hot for him.
"Be a naughty girl, love. Rub that clit for me, want you to cum with me this time." he commanded softly, and you couldn't help but to dance your own fingers over your swollen nub.
Itachi controlling your hips to his liking, just taking in the sensation. Not even holding back to moan your name, since he loved you so much, loved the feeling of your pussy.
Getting drunk on it like this. Eyes closed, head in the pillows...just feeling right now.
Feeling how your walls clamped down around his cock the closer you got, how his tip hit that spongy part inside you. Making you shudder and squirm a little, every time he hit that spot.
His hips bucking upwards faster, more desperate for release.
"God, I fucking...urgh love you." he panted and gasped, his balls drawing up so, so tight. You felt too good to stop.
You rubbed your clit with urgency, yourself seconds away from cumming all over his lap.
"Baby...:" you managed to squeal out before you tensed, your cunt squeezing him so god, it made his eyes roll back, pumping you full of his hot and potent seed. Rope after rope, painting your insides white. Not that he had enough now....no.
With a quick move he bends you over then, simply fucking through your orgasm and through his, this would be a long night ahead.
Just because your legs grew numb wouldn't mean your pussy can't take more right?
NARUTO | Kakashi/Neji/Shikamaru x reader - Pillow Talk
content : fluff, slightly suggestive, first person
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Kakashi Hatake
The dim light in the room, the warmth under the covers and the occasional turn of Kakashi's book pages would usually soothe me right to sleep, but now, no position feels right and my mind seems to be wandering, worrying, thinking of all the things I need to get done. It feels like I'm missing something to go to sleep. I toss and I turn, soon catching Kakashi's eye.
"Careful, you may start a fire with how aggressively you're turning there." He flips another page, his fingers gently caressing the pages, his voice laced with something closed to amusement and gentleness.
I turn to face him, snapping my eyes open and sighing annoyed. "I can't sleep." I complain, my face contorting in a deflated expression.
He looks over at me with tiredly raised brows. "That's surprising. You'd be snoring like an engine by now." He teases, staring at me for a few moments longer, assessing me, before he lies down from his sitting position, to be at eye level with me.
My eyes widen mortifiedly at the accusation. "I don't snore!"
"Sure you don't." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Want to read something?" He says with a cheeky smile as he flays his Icha Icha novel at me.
I cover my eyes with a hand defensively, the mere thought of what could be in that book shaking. "Oh my God." I scoff amused. "That's the last thing I need right now, Kashi." I add almost endearingly.
"That's all good with me, I'll get to surprise you with what's in here another time." He winks at me with the same dumb smirk. Kakashi places the book to the side, his eyes unpeeled off me.
"Why can't you sleep?" He continues with a more concerned tone, daring closer towards me, tucking an arm under his head as the other reaches for my hand under the sheets.
I intertwine my fingers with his, something like a second nature to me by now, while I rub my other hand over my face, frustrated, as I sigh.
"I had so much to do today and I'm still not done. I'll have to continue with this project I have tomorrow as well and I'm afraid I won't finish it on time." I shift on my back, my head facing towards him and my free hand gesticulating as I speak.
He mindlessly rubs his thumb over mine, his expression seeming to soften as I spill my worries.
"I'm sure you'll manage, stressing over it won't help." He assures me ever so gently. "No matter how important that work may be, it's not worth losing sleep over."
I look at him, defeated. "I know, I know..." I frown "I should've started working on it sooner."
"Probably." He agrees amused. "But how about I try to sleep with you now, hm? Would it help if I held you?" He lets go of my hand and brings it to gently grasp my chin between his thumb and index fingers.
A soft smile comes over my face as I nod, clearly interested in his idea. He smiles back at me before he wraps an arm around my waist and brings me closer, turning me around so my back would be against his chest.
"Is this better?" He asks before kissing the shell of my ear.
A shiver runs down my spine at the ticklish sensation. "Much better." A pleased smile comes over my face as I get comfortable against him, a satisfied sound leaving my lips, my eyes fluttering closed at the newfound comfort.
"Can't wait to hear you snore in my arms." He teases before he kisses again below my ear, his breath continuing to tickle me.
"Ok, you're just pushing it now, I don't snore." I say deadpanned, a bit annoyed, but amused nonetheless.
He chuckles, a deep and rich sound that never fails to make me just a bit more mush.
"Tell that to my earplugs." He turns to grab the mentioned items off the night stand.
"You're just a light sleeper!" I retort, even though I knew he was right, it's just something I refused to acknowledge.
He lets another amused sound slip past his lips as he places his earplugs in, then turns off the lamp.
He places a kiss to my temple before adjusting the covers better over us. "Goodnight, dear."
I place my arm over the one he's placed around me, nuzzling my face into my pillow as the tension in my shoulders slowly disappears.
"Goodnight, honey." I say a little louder, just to make sure he would hear over his plugs.
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Neji Hyuga
Neji always has the softest expression when he taps my side of the bed, urging me to come to sleep already.
"As much as I love how soft your skin is, I would much prefer having you here now." He admits to his impatience.
The man has nerves of steel, though I don't believe I've ever met anyone more eager to have me next to them. I finish applying my lotion, then I approach his side of the bed.
"And they say you've got patience to watch grass grow." I boop his nose, his expression as amusing as it's confused, before placing my hands on his shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead.
He taps the bed next to him once more, a soft smile adorning his face, like a child who'd been waiting.
"I think I'd rather sit here." I say with a cheeky smile, before slowly sitting on his lap, my feet dangling off the side of the bed.
His hands gently wrap around my waist, pulling me close, my own returning the favour around his neck.
"You're perky tonight." He notes, a wider smile that he tries suppressing creeping on the sides of his face as he snuggles into the crook of my neck.
"I had a good day... plus, seeing how impatient I get you may have also put me in a good mood." I lean my head on his, the faint smell of his shampoo causing me to tilt my hair just slightly to feel it better and trail a hand to tangle in it.
He hums, his hand riding up to hold the side of my neck, to keep me in place as he places just one tender lipped kiss where my neck meets my shoulder. I take a deep breath as my eyes flutter shut, tilting my head to coax him into providing more.
"How come your day was so good?" He questions between soft kisses.
"I...I finally managed to... finish that project and... you know..." I say clearly distracted by his ministrations.
"Continue, dear..." He whispers in my ear, kissing just below it.
I pull away, undoubtedly flustered. "You can't do that." I look away.
"Do what?" He acts confused, and if I didn't know his tactics any better, I would have genuinely believed he didn't understand. His hands travel up and down my back and side, in a comforting motion.
"Expect me to-to form coherent sentences when you-" I suddenly stop.
I look back at him for a few long moments, his smile widening and my face growing redder, being reminded that he knows what he's doing. I groan as I roll off his lap, onto my side of the bed, covering my face with both hands and curling up, facing the other way.
"You're an evil man." He chuckles at my words, and damn, his laugh makes it even worse, but...really, makes it better.
He gently rolls on his side, coming up behind me, tugging a hand away from my face.
"You started it." He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles. "I thought you'd handle it."
I look back at him, his soft gaze so mesmerising. "In my defence, I didn't think you'd resort to such sinful tactics." I add amused, rolling to face him.
"Is it wrong that I'd do it again? Just to see that face of yours." He lets go of my hand and strokes the side of my face.
"You are the perky one tonight." I say before hiding my face in his chest.
He chuckles softly before he turns to lie on his back, wrapping an arm around me. "I don't know what you're talking about.
I jerk my head up to look at him, bewildered. "You're doing it again!" I protest, smacking his chest.
"You get worked up so easily." He pressed my head back on his chest.
"This isn't over, mister." I softly scold him, to which he kisses the top of my head, pulling me closer to his chest.
- - - - - : ・ෆ・┈・┈・⊹*:ꔫ:*˖ ࣪⊹ ・┈・┈・ෆ・ : - - - - -
Shikamaru Nara
The bathroom door slides open, Shikamaru entering our bedroom, dimming the lights behind him.
"This teeth brushing business is such a drag." His tone clearly tired, his state accentuated by a yawn. He flops down on the bed, face first.
I let out an amused sound before closing my book and setting it on the nightstand next to me. I roll on my side, holding my head up on my hand and reach out to him, setting a gentle hand on his back and tracing his spine ever so gently.
"Kissing you is much nicer when I can't taste your dinner." I note entertained by his displeasure, but to encourage he continues this good habit in the future.
"Today's mission really roughed you up, huh?" My voice is soft, a hint of concern, strung with care.
He turns his head towards me, his face mushed against the pillow. He closes his eyes as he nods, before looking up at me again.
"I need to hibernate." He adds with a lazy smile on his face.
I bring the hand on his back to cup his face "That bad?" My voice laced with amusement as I pout my bottom lip at him, slightly mockingly.
He brings his hand up, sluggishly, placing it over mine, trailing it to his mouth to kiss my palm "I missed you." He says with glistening eyes, eyes that make him so hard to resist. My expression softens and my playful edge wears off.
"I'm going to pack you in my bag next time." He continues, tossing on his side to face me, his eyes now closed, but his hand keeping mine still on his face.
"If you manage to fit me in one of your pockets you may cure both of our aches." I scoot closer to him, a stupid smile on my face.
"I'll make some shrinking concoction, don't you worry about that." He rubs his face against my hand, almost like a cat who wants to be pet, his smile growing just a little wider.
I giggle at his plans "I'm glad I'm putting your creative bone to work, my lazy, lazy man." I yawn. "You always manage to make me sleepier just by looking so cosy." I lay my head down, before snuggling up to him.
He opens his eyes, extending his arm for me to lay my head on, then giving me a light kiss on my lips.
"Didn't think you'd have enough energy for that, you sloth." I tease him, raising my brows playfully at him, to then return his kiss.
His hand slithers around my waist to pull me even closer to him as we kiss. He pulls away just a fraction to mutter. "You know I always have energy for that."
"Oh, you do?" I chuckle at his words.
"You want to find out?" His gaze grows more daring, his body shifting on top of me gently.
I giddily wrap my arms around his neck "I don't know, do I?" I continue the banter, wrapping a leg around one of his, caressing it.
"You really are troublesome, woman." And with that, he reaches to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, then wraps his body around mine, kissing my neck, tickling me in the process.
I squeal his name, jerking at his touch, but relishing this moment.
ShikaNaru AU where Shikamaru is so gone for Naruto it isn't even funny, but the idea of Naruto reciprocating isn't even a thought in his mind. It never occurs to him as a possibility. It makes negative amounts of sense. Until one day, some of the Konoha 12 are having lunch together and when the topic of best friends comes up, everyone laughs and says that Naruto's is obviously Sasuke.
To which Naruto gives them a weird look and tells them no, it's obviously not. Sasuke has tried to kill him several times, they never see one another these days, and anytime they do, they fight like cats and dogs. In what world does any of that scream best friend?
Obviously his best friend is Shikamaru. And Shikamaru thinks oh, maybe I do have a chance.
Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake
Summary: Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Bad words. All fluff.
Masterlist Ko-fi
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
He isn't the kind of guy to outwardly dote on you.
He's never been good with words or physical touch, more so preferring quality time together. You sleep in the same bed, eat meals together when it's convenient, and lounge around together when time allows.
When you come home from a last minute doctor's appointment with some big news, none of that really changes.
He assures you that he's happy, that he loves you, and this is all wonderful, but that's about all you're going to get out the emotionally constipated man.
However, while words may not be his strong suit, actions certainly are.
It's become painfully obvious that you are never allowed to go anywhere alone ever again.
He's like a shadow, following you everywhere and anywhere you decide to go. It doesn't matter that you're just running to the market- he's coming with. Ino invited the girls over for a dinner party? Cool, he'll walk you there, hang around in the shadows outside, then walk you home.
When questioned, Sasuke only says that he doesn't trust other people. Already knowing how he is, you don't push him any further. (Not that he'd entertain you if you did.)
People notice pretty quickly. He's not subtle and it's not exactly common for the Uchiha to be so openly clingy.
You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret for a little while longer. You knew that his status would make the whole thing bigger than you'd like and it was still so early, only about eight weeks in. But people were becoming more and more insistent with their questions.
"Seriously, did something happen? He's been watching you like a Hawk for the past month."
"It was cute at first, but now it's straight up creepy."
Sakura and Ino dramatically shiver at the notion. You laugh, imagining how unsettling this all must look from the outside.
"It's fine, I promise. He's just been a little overprotective since he found out I was pregnant."
They don't register it at first. They just nod in understanding and move to sip their tea. You can almost see it click in their heads before they slam down their cups and start freaking out.
"Wait, WHAT?"
Naruto Uzumaki
"Congratulations! Based on the ultrasound, I'd say you're about five weeks along. It's still early, but you can see a tiny sac right here-"
Your mind is going a thousand miles a minute, thinking of everything and nothing as the doctor points out the tiny, centimeter-long blob in the picture.
Naruto had been bugging you for the past three weeks about a smell. He swears it's nothing bad, just that Kurama is insisting that your scent has changed and- blah, blah, blah. You never could get any more information out of him, which just left you to eventually cave and visit the doctor. Animals have instincts for a reason and who were you to ignore them?
Turns out, that damn fox was right.
After a half-hour lecture on what you can and can't do anymore, you were handed a goodie bag of essentials and sent on your way.
You barely remember the walk home. Your mind was completely blank as it tried to process the news. It wasn't until Naruto was standing in front of you in the doorway to your home that you finally snapped out of the trance.
You stared up at him. His eyebrows were knit together and he was asking if everything was alright. He pulled everything out of your hands and not-so-gently set them on the floor.
"I'm pregnant."
His eyes blew wide and not even a second later he was smiling, pulling you into him and spinning you around. It's over just as quickly as it started. He's setting you back down on your feet and looking you over, mumbling a few hollow apologies for manhandling you. He takes a deep breath, that lopsided grin on his face never leaving.
"You're pregnant."
Just those two words have all the fog clearing from your head. Reality is forced onto you in an instant. In any other situation, it might have made you dizzy, but right now you couldn't be happier.
"I'm pregnant."
Shikamaru Nara
He really should've seen this coming.
Honestly, with how careless he is with protection, it's a wonder how you hadn't gotten pregnant sooner. A year and some change of not bothering with condoms and lazy, half-assed pullouts had finally come to bite him in the ass.
Although he knows this is all going to be horrifically bothersome, he can't find it in himself to be all that bothered. No, not when you're standing in front of him so nervously, little tears gathering on your waterline as you hold out a slip of paper for him to take.
He pulls you into a hug- a very tight, very intimate hug. One of his hands is on your lower back, pressing you into him, and the other is in your hair to cup the back of your head. He can feel the stress start to melt from your body as you relax into him, your arms moving to loosely hold him back.
"I'm sorry. I know this wasn't exactly planned..."
It definitely wasn't planned. He didn't like to think about things too hard. The only talk about the future he'd engaged in was a brief confirmation that you were both interested in pursuing each other exclusively and that neither were against marriage and kids.
But even though this was sudden and unprompted and definitely not what he was expecting when you asked to talk with him privately, he just couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than pleased. Sure, he would've liked to wait a few years and it preferably be after he'd properly proposed and married you, but none of that is deterring him.
He loved you. He didn't say it as often as he probably should, but that didn't make it any less true. You were easygoing and passive and fit into his life with no resistance. His friends liked you, possibly more than they did him. You liked to cook and he never had to worry about you causing trouble.
This was fine.
Not troublesome in the least.
"No, this is... good."
Kakashi Hatake
He was positive he was sterile. He'd have to be after all the injuries and trauma he's sustained, right? Four years and not a single scare, yet here you were, apparently three months pregnant, handing him a report from the OB's office.
He couldn't even form a sentence. He just sighed and sat back onto the couch with his eyes closed. It's only eight in the morning, it's too early for this, not that there'd ever be a great time.
"I knew you weren't going to be thrilled, but now I'm starting to get nervous. Can you please say something?"
He held his arm up and gestured for you to come towards him. When he could feel you brush against him, he grabbed your wrist and carefully yanked you onto his lap. You let out a relieved, albeit hesitant, chuckle as he slowly wrapped himself around you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck.
The two of you stayed like that for a little while until he let out the loudest, most dramatic groan you'd ever heard leave his mouth, followed by a mumbled 'are you sure?', to which you rolled your eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure. Here, you can see for yourself."
You unfold the paper and pulled out a few pictures. He shifts you around so you're at a better angle before he takes them into his hands. It's obvious that he has no idea what he's looking at- just that the blob is already baby-shaped and very, very intimidating.
You point out some of the obvious things, the head and feet and such, before moving down to the very last photo at the bottom.
"And that little spot right there means that we're having a boy."
"I thought they couldn't tell the gender until later."
"It is later, Kashi. Fourteen weeks."
He lets you take the pictures from him so he can set his hand on your stomach. You'd mentioned gaining a little weight recently, which he honestly hadn't noticed, but now he's wondering how he could've missed it as he brushes his fingers over the slightest most obvious bump in your usually flat stomach.
He must've been zoned out for too long, because you're calling his name and setting your hand over his. He hums, a slight acknowledgment that he's heard you, but you know he's not actually listening.
He's too busy thinking about diapers and bottles and late nights and early mornings. How his son is going to be in the same class as his student's kids. How Gai is going to be a hundred times more annoying in the coming years.
But then a single thought completely derails his spiraling. He wonders what your baby will look like. If he'll be a morning person like you or like to take naps like him. If they'll accel in genjutsu or not, because while he certainly does, you most certainly don't.
He's spent time with Kurenai and Mirai. While raising a person definitely seemed difficult, he couldn't deny that Kurenai was happy. Actually, despite Asuma's untimely death, she's the happiest he'd ever seen her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just... thinking about how annoying it'll be to tell everyone we're expecting."
summary: the nights in Konoha had grown quieter, but the silence did nothing to still the noise within you. Shadows stretched longer, and so did the pull toward him—subtle at first, then impossible to ignore. And when your paths crossed again, not in battle, not in duty, but in something softer, heavier, it felt less like coincidence and more like inevitability. Something had shifted. And neither of you could quite look away.
pairing: shikamaru x female reader (reader is a member of the ANBU)
The sun hung low in the sky, bleeding gold into the treetops. You walked slowly, letting your steps fall into rhythm with the soft hush of the breeze threading through the leaves. The air was warm—not the stifling heat of midday, but the kind that clung lightly to your skin, like memory. The kind that carried the scent of grass, dust, and something half-forgotten.
You didn’t rush. There was no need to.
The path wound ahead in lazy arcs, half-swallowed by weeds and thick with the smell of pine sap. You let your fingers graze the low branches as you passed, your gloves brushing against the rough bark and small curling leaves. Somewhere deeper in the forest, a cicada hummed, its song rising and falling in a tired kind of way.
He hadn’t wanted to come. Not really.
“Training? With you?” he’d muttered, flat on his back under a half-dead tree outside the mission hall, one arm slung across his eyes like the sky was just too much. “Sounds like a drag.” You’d said nothing then—just raised a brow, arms crossed over your chest. Waited.
After a beat, he sighed through his teeth and cracked one eye open. “Tch. Fine. But only because you’ll annoy me about it otherwise.”
You had smiled then. Just barely. He didn’t say it, but you both knew the truth. Time had been a rare thing lately. Scarcer than rest, scarcer even than silence. If you hadn’t asked, he probably wouldn’t have seen you at all.
The dirt path curved gently up a slope now, the tree cover thinning just enough to let in streaks of amber light. You stepped over a half-rotted log, your shadow stretching long across the moss-covered stones. You remembered another afternoon—years ago now—when you’d both been younger, not quite friends yet, just two people orbiting the same strange shinobi world.
It had been during one of those endless village-wide drills—mandatory formations, repetitive routines, all barked orders and synchronized movements under the hot sun. You’d spotted him off to the side, half-slouched against a tree, yawning like the whole thing might actually bore him to death. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?” you’d muttered as you passed him in line, your voice low and dry. He’d shrugged without looking up. “I care. Just not about people pretending to be useful by shouting.” That had made you laugh—quiet and sharp-edged, but real. You hadn’t expected him to be funny. You hadn’t expected him to notice things the way he did. From then on, it had been easy. Easier than most things.
The clearing came into view slowly, like it wasn’t in a hurry to show itself. Just a patch of grass worn down by time and use, framed by tall reeds and scattered stones. A few dragonflies hovered over the shallow dip of a stream nearby, their wings catching what was left of the day’s light. You stepped out into it, pausing at the edge of the clearing.
He wasn’t there yet. Of course he wasn’t.
You moved toward one of the flat stones and sat, stretching your legs out in front of you, the heat of the day still clinging faintly to the rock beneath your thighs. The katana across your back shifted slightly as you leaned forward, elbows on your knees. There was something about the quiet here. It wasn’t the oppressive kind. It was the stillness of things that had been left alone long enough to simply exist. You let it settle around your shoulders like dust. Behind your eyes, the memories flickered again. His voice, half-asleep beside a fire on the edge of some half-finished mission—“You’re always tense when the wind changes.”—your hands tightening on the straps of your gear, your reply a murmur—“And you’re always watching me.”
He hadn’t denied it. Just rolled over, the embers painting his face in soft reds. Another breeze moved through the trees, and you closed your eyes against it, letting it brush over your skin. The sun had started to dip lower now, the gold deepening into something richer, more muted.
Footsteps.
You heard them before you saw him. Not loud—he never was, even when he didn’t try. But you knew the rhythm of his walk, the slight drag of his heel, the way he took wider steps than he needed to, like it was all too much effort. “Yo,” came the voice, a little rough with disuse, as if he’d just woken up. You opened your eyes. He stood at the edge of the clearing, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other lifting lazily in greeting. His hair was tied as always, though a few strands had fallen loose at his temple. His vest was unzipped, shadows catching in the folds of the fabric. “You’re late,” you said. Not annoyed. Just stating fact. He rolled a shoulder. “Didn’t say what kind of afternoon.” You huffed softly. Typical. Still, something in your chest loosened just a little.
Shikamaru moved toward you without ceremony, dropped onto the grass a few feet away, arms stretched behind him as he leaned back. His gaze drifted upward, toward the cloudless sky. “Hot,” he muttered. “Mm.” You looked at him. The line of his jaw, the way the light caught the curve of his cheek. His eyes were half-lidded, unreadable. He let the silence stretch between you, like always. Not awkward—just quiet. Comfortable. You leaned back onto your hands, mirroring his posture. The grass was warm, the scent of summer thick in the air—wild mint, sun-dried earth, faint smoke from a distant cooking fire.
“Sure you’re up for this?” you asked eventually. He didn’t answer right away. Just let out a long breath, eyes tracking a bird overhead. “I’m here, aren’t I?” You nodded, not looking at him now. “Didn’t think you would be.” He made a sound—something between a scoff and a hum. “Tch. You’re annoying when you disappear for days without saying anything.” You blinked, turning toward him again. His gaze was still skyward, but something in his voice tugged at you.
“I didn’t disappear.”
“Didn’t say goodbye either.”
The words sat between you, quiet and unpolished. You weren’t sure what to say. Eventually, you pushed yourself up, brushing the grass from your palms. “Well,” you said, voice steady, “I’m here now.” He looked at you then. Really looked. His eyes, dark as burnt honey, settled on yours. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.” You watched him for a moment longer. Just watched. The way he slouched against the breeze like gravity was a personal offense. The soft line between his brows, always there even when he pretended not to care. You’d known him long enough to recognize the tension in his stillness—how stillness didn’t always mean peace. “Staring,” he said, not moving. You didn’t look away. “Observing.” “Tch.” His lips curled slightly. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
You stood slowly, the movement easy, unhurried. The scabbard at your back shifted with the roll of your shoulders, but you didn’t reach for it. Not yet. The warm wind tugged at your sleeves as you stepped out into the center of the clearing, your boots silent on the flattened grass. Behind you, you heard him sigh. Heard the rustle of cloth as he pushed himself to his feet with all the enthusiasm of a man asked to dig his own grave. “Taijutsu only,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “Don’t be lazy.” “Ugh. Troublesome.” But he was already rolling his neck, loosening his limbs. “You sure you wanna spar like this? You’ll just get annoyed when I keep dodging.”
You turned to face him fully now. The light hit him from the side—warm gold catching in the line of his jaw, the faint sheen of sweat already forming at his collarbone. He looked half-asleep and entirely aware, like a predator playing dead. “Not if I hit you first,” you replied. That made him smile—just a little, just enough. “Bold.”
And then you moved.
No warning. No signal. Just the quiet thud of your foot pressing off the earth as you rushed him, closing the space with practiced ease. His body responded in an instant—lazy didn’t mean slow—and he twisted just as your fist cut through the air where his face had been a heartbeat before. You pivoted, not overextending, already anticipating the counter that didn’t come. His hand brushed past your ribs, a testing motion, not a strike. You ducked beneath it, shifting your weight to your back foot, grounding yourself. He was watching you. Not your face—your shoulders, your hips. Reading your next move before it even formed.
You lunged again, this time lower, sweeping at his legs. He hopped back, barely putting effort into it. You followed, tightening the space between you. “Not bad,” he murmured, ducking as your elbow came for his temple. “For someone who hasn’t trained in days.” “Is that your way of asking where I’ve been?” you shot back, breath even as your body twisted into a quick strike toward his midsection. He caught your wrist—not hard, just enough to redirect the blow. “Wouldn’t be asking.”
You broke the grip with a sharp flick, stepping in close, closer than you usually dared. He let you, which meant he was planning something. His body shifted, weight loading on his back leg. “Still dodging,” you said, breath hot against his jaw as you slid past him, fingers grazing the edge of his vest. He turned to follow, not quite fast enough. You felt your knuckles graze his ribs, a soft thud of contact. Not a full hit, but enough. “Still chasing,” he replied, but there was something in his tone now—less lazy, more focused. You were waking him up.
Good.
You circled him slowly, not dropping your guard. The air between you was thicker now, warmed by motion and breath and something else—something unspoken. He moved first this time. A faint shift, almost imperceptible, and then he was coming at you in a blur of angled momentum—nothing flashy, just efficiency and control. His foot aimed low, his arm coming high in a feint. You blocked the kick with your shin, absorbing the impact, then stepped into his guard, your forearm slamming up to catch his incoming elbow. For a second, your bodies locked—chest to chest, muscles taut, breath mingling. You smelled smoke on him, and green tea, and that vague scent of sun-warmed cotton. “Missed you,” he muttered, like it wasn’t a confession. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t let it distract you. “You said that out loud,” you replied. His brow arched. “Did I?” You used the moment. Hooked his ankle with yours, shifted your weight, tried to unbalance him. He didn’t fall—but he stumbled, and that was enough. You slipped behind him in a flash, fingers brushing the edge of his collar. A mock kill. He stilled. Just for a breath. Then exhaled slowly. “Alright. You win.” You didn’t move. “Too easy.” He glanced over his shoulder, smirk tugging at his mouth. “I’m letting you win. Clearly.” “Obviously,” you echoed dryly.
But you stepped back, giving him space. He turned to face you again, brushing a bit of grass from his shoulder with the flick of a hand. There was sweat at his temple now. You felt it mirrored on your own skin, a slow trickle down the side of your neck. The breeze picked up again. Your lungs pulled in the scent of the clearing—earth, water, sun. And him. You tilted your head. “Round two?”
He hesitated, eyes scanning you with something unreadable behind the calm. “Thought you’d be more tired,” he said. “Thought you’d be more difficult.” He gave a low chuckle. “Tch. You’re getting cocky.” You smiled, slow and sharp. “You like it.”
And again, you moved. This time, he was ready.
You traded blows like it was a language only the two of you spoke—quick jabs, low blocks, turns and redirects. His footwork was lazy and elegant all at once, like water flowing around stones. Yours was more grounded, but no less fluid. You pressed him, made him move. He responded with the same deliberate calm he always wore, except now there was an edge to it. A gleam in his eye that hadn’t been there before.
You kicked high—he ducked. You went for his ribs—he twisted, caught your wrist, let go again. The dance continued. “Still not using ninjutsu,” he said between breaths. “Neither are you.” “Shadow possession’s too easy.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He grinned, wide enough to show teeth. “Maybe I like working for it sometimes.” The comment sent a flicker through your stomach. Heat of a different kind. You slammed your elbow toward his chest. He caught it, barely, fingers brushing your skin. You twisted, broke free. “Careful,” he murmured, voice low now. “You’re smiling.”
You hadn’t noticed you were. You pushed forward, letting instinct take over. Your body remembered him. Remembered how he moved, how he thought. You knew him in this rhythm—this quiet collision of force and restraint. And he knew you.
The next strike came fast—your knee toward his side. He blocked with both hands, used the force to spin you off balance, and then you were tumbling onto the grass with a soft grunt, the world tilting briefly. Before you could fully recover, he was above you, one hand planted beside your head, the other raised—just barely, just for show.
“Gotcha.”
You looked up at him. His hair had come loose again. A single strand fell across his brow. His chest rose and fell in slow, even pulls. He didn’t look triumphant. Just…there. Present. “Not bad,” you said, not trying to move yet. His mouth quirked. “I’d say the same.” Neither of you moved for a beat. The wind whispered over the clearing, stirring the grass beside your head. A dragonfly buzzed somewhere above. You breathed. He stayed. You exhaled slowly, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the earth. The silence between you stretched like the pause before a storm.
Then, quietly, you said, “No more rules.”
His brow lifted, a flicker of something alert behind his gaze—but before he could fully process the shift in your tone, you moved.
Fast.
A sharp twist of your hips, one leg snapping out to catch his side—not hard, just enough to shift his weight. His balance faltered for half a second, and that was all you needed. You were already on the ground with him, bodies tangled in motion, so you used the momentum—hands shooting forward to shove at his chest. He resisted, but not fully—already calculating, already adapting.
You didn’t let him.
A sharp press of your knee, a pivot of your shoulders, and you rolled—taking him with you. The world tipped sideways in a blur of grass and shadow. His arm tightened instinctively around your waist as you moved together, but you shifted again, using his own leverage against him. He landed beneath you with a quiet thud, breath catching as you straddled his hips in one fluid motion. Your heel planted firmly in the grass beside him, your palm came down, aimed directly over his sternum—controlled, but decisive.
A breathless second passed.
He blinked. “Okay,” he murmured, a small grin forming. “Didn’t see that coming.” You were already gone. A graceful backflip—weightless, clean—and you landed light as a whisper several meters away. Hands poised. Breath steady. The smirk faded from his mouth as he rose, slower this time. His eyes never left you. “So,” he drawled. “All jutsu allowed, huh?” You didn’t answer. Just smiled. He sighed. “Troublesome woman…”
But his hands were already forming seals. His shadow twitched like a living thing, snaking along the grass—quick, clever, hungry. You darted left, right, low. Your fingers flicked through your own set of seals, breath flowing like water through each motion. A soft glow flared at your palms and you whispered a quiet word—one you’d learned under fading lantern light and too many bruises. A wall of wind erupted in front of you, spinning in tight coils, lifting dust and leaves into a brief, blinding curtain. “Trying to block my line of sight?” Shikamaru called through it. “Smart.”
The ground beneath your feet trembled—just slightly—as his shadow moved beneath it, bypassing the wind entirely. You felt it graze your ankle and leapt high, spinning midair, forming another quick set of seals. A barrage of chakra-sharpened kunai appeared around you in a shimmer of pale light, launching downward like falling stars. You heard him curse, low and annoyed, as he twisted into a dive to avoid the spread. One of the blades clipped his sleeve. Another embedded in the ground just beside his hand.
You landed behind him in the same breath, already moving, already striking. He rolled away at the last second, and his shadow surged again—larger this time, faster. It caught your left hand. You froze as your muscles stiffened, shadow chakra locking the limb in place. Shikamaru straightened with a lazy kind of satisfaction, already pulling a senbon from his pouch. “You know,” he said, voice maddeningly calm, “if this was a real fight, you’d be dead now.” You met his gaze evenly. “If this was a real fight…” You smiled. Your hand twisted—only slightly, but enough. The jutsu unravelled like smoke. His eyes widened. “You countered—?” You moved again before he could finish. The air around you rippled. Wind-enhanced speed carried you forward in a blink, and this time your kick connected. Hard. His body hit the ground with a thud and rolled, though he recovered quick, sliding to a stop with both hands on the earth. He looked up at you. “That hurt.” “Good.”
He laughed then, actually laughed—a low, delighted sound you rarely heard from him in the middle of a spar. His hands blurred into another jutsu before you could press the advantage. “Shadow Strangle,” he said casually. The next thing you knew, the grass beneath you surged black. His chakra shot out in thick tendrils—grabbing, wrapping, tightening. You dropped to one knee, fingers forming seals in rapid succession. “Wind Release—Vacuum Sphere!” The blast cut through the shadows like a blade, severing their reach. The jutsu didn’t hit him, but it gave you space. You bolted to the side, heart racing now, and not just from exertion. He was better than before. Faster. Sharper. But so were you. The clearing was torn now—grass ripped up, small craters where jutsus had collided. Your breathing came hard and steady. Across from you, he stood loose and easy, but his eyes were sharp. “You’re stronger,” he said. You shrugged. “You’re not holding back.” “Should I be?”
Your eyes met.
“No.”
In the next moment, you both moved. Chakra burned through your limbs like fire. You met mid-air, your kick clashing with his forearm. The impact sent a shockwave through the trees. Birds scattered overhead. You landed on a broken log, pushed off it, feinted left. He anticipated it, tried to trap you with a looping shadow. You vaulted over it, somersaulted low to the ground, and released a burst of wind from your palm that knocked him back a step. Close. So close. He came at you with a kunai now, not even bothering with shadows. Just instinct and muscle and breath. You blocked it with your own, the clang of steel ringing out, sparks flying. You twisted into his guard, your forearm pressing to his chest—too close for weapons, too close for thought. Your faces were inches apart.
He was breathing hard now. So were you. “Getting tired?” you asked. “Never,” he murmured, and you felt his chakra rise again, hot and sharp. But instead of attacking, he smirked. And then his shadow surged beneath you.
Damn it.
You tried to move—too late. The binding caught your right foot. He lunged forward with a grin, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you down in a clean, practiced maneuver. You hit the ground with a grunt, pinned beneath him. “Checkmate,” he whispered against your ear. You looked up, breath caught between laughter and frustration. Sweat beaded at his brow, sliding down his jaw. “I hate you,” you said. “No, you don’t.” His voice was low, close — and he hadn’t moved.
You were still beneath him, the weight of him grounding you, one hand pressed into the earth beside your head, the other curled near your waist, not quite touching. His breath ghosted against your cheek. His hair fell slightly into his face, strands shadowing his sharp eyes, the ones that always seemed to see more than he let on.
The world outside the clearing felt impossibly far away. Neither of you spoke for a while. Just breathing. Listening. “You’ve gotten good,” he said finally, voice quiet, like the comment wasn’t entirely welcome. “Too good.” You arched a brow. “Is that a compliment?” “No,” he said, deadpan. “It’s a threat.” You laughed under your breath, eyes falling closed for a moment. “Better be.” Still, Shikamaru didn’t move. And neither did you. Then—slowly, carefully—you opened your eyes again.
And looked up. Really looked.
There was something about the way the sunlight filtered through the canopy above, painting his features in shades of amber and gold. His expression wasn’t teasing now. Just thoughtful. Still. That same unreadable calm he always wore when the moment mattered more than he wanted to admit. Your chest ached a little. Not from the fight. You didn’t say anything. You just held his gaze. The air between you had shifted—less a breath, more a heartbeat. Tangible. Deep. That moment stretched, wrapped around you like warm cloth, familiar and bittersweet. His lips parted slightly, like he might say something—then didn’t. Instead, after a long pause, he asked, “When do you leave again?”
You blinked.
His voice was steady, but something behind it sounded tired. Not with you. With everything else. You hesitated before answering. Your throat felt dry. “…Soon,” you said, softer than before. “A few more days. Maybe.” You watched the way his jaw tensed, subtle but unmistakable. He looked down, just for a second, brows drawn as though the words tasted bitter in his mouth. “Of course,” he muttered, almost to himself. You felt the shift in his body, the quiet frustration he wouldn’t name. You knew that tone. Knew it well. It wasn’t anger. It was the kind of weariness that came from knowing something was necessary but hating it anyway.
You reached up, fingers brushing lightly at his sleeve—not enough to pull, just to anchor him. Just so he wouldn’t drift too far from this moment. He looked back at you, eyes meeting yours again, and this time he didn’t hide it. The faint flicker of something unresolved, something held back for too long.
You opened your mouth to speak. But the words never made it out. Because in the space between one breath and the next—he kissed you.
There was no hesitation. No warning. Just his lips pressing to yours, warm and sure, like he’d made the decision in an instant and didn’t plan to take it back. And everything stopped. The air stilled. The sounds of the forest dulled. Your thoughts—your heartbeat—stumbled over themselves before dissolving into quiet, into heat, into the softness of his mouth and the certainty of his hands. One braced beside your head, fingers curled into the grass, grounding himself in the moment. The other found your waist, firm and unyielding, as though afraid the world might pull you away from him if he didn’t hold you close enough. You inhaled sharply against him—but then you melted. Completely.
Your hand rose on instinct, fingers brushing against the curve of his jaw, the line of his neck, memorizing the feel of him beneath your touch. The stubble along his skin. The warmth of him, the steadiness. You curled your other hand at his shoulder, holding on like you were trying to memorize the shape of this moment—afraid it might vanish if you let go.
The kiss deepened—not rushed, not desperate, but full. Heavy with everything unspoken. It carried the weight of days and nights spent dancing around something neither of you would name, of passing touches and lingering glances, of unsent letters and silences too thick to cut through. He was quiet, always. But this—this was him speaking.
You felt it in the way his lips moved with yours, slow but certain, reverent almost. In the quiet sigh that trembled through his chest and into yours, like he was finally exhaling something he hadn’t let himself feel until now. Something careful. Something real. Your heart ached with how tender it was. With how long you’d both waited for this, maybe without even realizing it. And as his forehead came to rest against yours, his breath uneven now, you felt that ache deepen. His eyes were still closed. Like he wasn’t ready to let go of the moment just yet. Or maybe he didn’t trust himself to look at you without it breaking the spell. You didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Your hand stayed at his face, thumb brushing his cheekbone softly, reverently, as if touching something fragile. And he let you. Leaned into it, just barely, as if even now, he didn’t want to ask for more than what you gave freely.
You felt the tension slowly unwind from his body, bit by bit, like every second of closeness was untangling knots neither of you had known were there. The weight he always carried—the pressure, the burden, the solitude—lifted, just a little. Enough for you to feel it. Enough to know how much he trusted you. When he finally opened his eyes, they found yours instantly.
And you saw it—all of it.
The worry. The longing. The fear of losing something he never dared to ask for in the first place. “I wasn’t going to say it,” you whispered, voice barely there. He didn’t need to ask what you meant. He already knew. He swallowed, throat bobbing slightly. “I know.” And still—he kissed you.
Again.
Softer this time. Slower. Like he was trying to memorize you in pieces. The way your lips parted for him. The taste of your breath. The tremble in your fingers. The way your lashes fluttered shut.
It was the kind of kiss that said: If you have to go, take this with you.
The kind that said: Don’t forget me.
The kind that said: I won’t say it. But I will show you. Every time.
And it shattered you in the gentlest way. Because he didn’t make promises. He didn’t offer declarations or pretty words. But this—he gave you this.
And in his world, that meant everything.
So you held him close. Closer than before. As if you could carve the memory of this moment into your bones. As if the weight of his body against yours, the warmth of his hand at your waist, the quiet strength of his heart beating through his chest, could keep you anchored when the silence came again. And maybe—it would. Maybe it had to. But for now…
For now, you just stayed.
●
Days had passed. Long ones.
You hadn’t seen him since that evening on the training grounds, when breath and bruises had turned into something softer. Into a kiss you hadn’t expected and hadn’t stopped thinking about since.
The memory lingered in a way nothing else quite had in recent months—like warmth tucked under your skin. Every time your mind wandered, it went back to that moment. The way his mouth had found yours, without hesitation. The way he’d touched you like he wasn’t sure he deserved it, but needed it anyway.
You thought about the sound he’d made when you kissed him back. About the silence that had followed, comfortable and close. About the weight of his forehead resting against yours.
It was strange, how something so quiet could echo for days.
He’d been called away on a mission shortly after. Nothing long—just a few days. But in the stillness of your own temporary leave, the absence of him became a kind of presence too.
You spent your time resting. Reading. Walking through the quieter edges of the village without a destination. You let yourself be still—just for a little while.
But tonight was your last night before heading out again. And the quiet had started to feel a little too quiet.
So you’d lit a few candles. Not because you needed them, but because the soft flicker made the evening feel more grounded. More yours. You’d just come out of the shower, wrapped in the scent of your favorite soap, skin warm from the steam, your hair damp and curling softly at the ends. You wore a simple wrap dress—comfortable but just a little pretty, like you were trying to feel human again before the cold distance of a mask and mission overtook you. It hugged you gently, cinched at the waist, and fell around your knees like water.
In the kitchen, the scent of miso and soy filled the air—your ramen wasn’t quite finished yet, but it was close. The broth simmered slowly, the noodles resting nearby, waiting. You sat curled on the couch, one leg tucked under you, a book open in your lap and a cup of green tea resting between your palms. The soft hum of the stove and the occasional page turn were the only sounds in the room. And then—three knocks at your door.
You froze.
You weren’t expecting anyone. Not this late. Not tonight. You set your tea down, placing the book spine-up on the couch cushion, and padded barefoot across the wooden floor toward the entrance. The knot in your chest tightened slightly, your shinobi instincts sharpening for a brief moment—until you opened the door. And everything softened.
Shikamaru stood in the doorway.
Hair slightly tousled, shadows under his eyes, mission gear gone, but fatigue still clinging faintly to him like dust. He wore a simple dark shirt and pants, nothing dramatic—but in his hand, almost awkwardly held, was a small bouquet of flowers. Wild ones, mostly. A few sprigs of white, pale purple, something with green stems that didn’t quite match. It wasn’t elegant. But it was… real.
The scent hit you first—a strange but strangely comforting mix of crushed petals and faint cigarette smoke. A contrast that somehow fit him too well.
You blinked. He didn’t say anything at first. Neither did you. The moment stretched, quiet and oddly full.
“…You’re back,” you finally said, voice soft, almost unsure whether to smile. “Yeah.” He scratched at the back of his neck with the hand not holding the flowers, looking somewhere just past your shoulder. “Didn’t plan to come by, honestly.”
A pause.
You tilted your head, brow arching slightly. “Should I be offended?” That made his lips twitch, just slightly. His eyes finally met yours. “I can leave if you want.” It was said with his usual dry tone, but there was something underneath it—something shy, almost. Like he wasn’t sure how he’d be received. Like he’d been playing the scene out in his head the entire walk over and had already prepared himself for you to shut the door in his face. You looked at him for a long moment.
Then you reached forward, fingers brushing gently over Shikamarus wrist as you took the bouquet from him and stepped aside. “Stay,” you said, quieter now. “I was just making ramen.” He hesitated, still lingering in the doorway as if unsure whether this counted as permission or a trap. “You’ll like it,” you added, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turned and walked back into the apartment. You didn’t have to look back to know he followed.
The door clicked shut softly behind him. You set the flowers on the counter, searching for a jar to use as a makeshift vase. You heard him sigh behind you—tired, maybe, or just releasing something held too long. “So,” you said over your shoulder as you filled the jar with water. “Was it a difficult mission?” “Not really.” He sounded closer now. “Just… a lot of walking.” “You hate walking.” “Troublesome, yeah.” You could almost hear the smirk in his voice now. “But I made it back.” You turned, placing the jar of flowers on the table near the window. The setting sun caught the petals just right, making them look almost prettier than they were. You looked at him. He was watching you. His eyes didn’t move. The air shifted a little.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d see you before I go.” you admitted, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “I figured you’d be—busy. Or… tired.” “I was,” he said quietly. “But I kept thinking about that kiss.” Your breath caught. You turned fully toward him now, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the counter for balance. Shikamaru shrugged, looking almost annoyed with himself. “Couldn’t get it out of my head. Figured that meant I should stop thinking about it and do something instead.” You didn’t know what to say to that. So instead, you walked past him to the stove, stirring the ramen gently, letting the silence stretch in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable.
He moved closer.
Close enough that you could feel the warmth of him behind you, not touching, but present. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to reach for you again—but hoped you might.
You turned, ladle still in hand, eyes finding his again. “Can you grab two bowls?” you asked gently, nodding toward the cupboard behind him. Shikamaru blinked once, as if coming out of some quiet internal fog, and turned around without a word. You watched him as he reached up, the hem of his shirt pulling slightly with the stretch. His movements were unhurried, efficient—but still carrying that particular kind of laziness only he had perfected. He handed you the bowls without needing to be asked twice.
“Thanks,” you murmured, taking them and setting them down beside the pot. You ladled the ramen carefully, making sure to get enough broth and noodles in each bowl. It wasn’t anything fancy—just something warm, something real. Something to fill the quiet with more than just silence. “Chopsticks?” he offered, already moving toward the drawer where you kept them. “You know your way around too well,” you said, a faint smile tugging at your mouth. “Troublesome how often I’ve been here,” he replied, handing you a pair and taking the other for himself.
You carried both bowls to the small coffee table in front of the couch, setting them down gently before settling in. Shikamaru joined you, legs folding easily beneath him, the lines of his body relaxing in that same way you remembered from nights long past—those quiet hours after missions, both of you too wired or too worn out to sleep. “You know… for someone who’s been here so often, it’s kind of funny nothing’s ever really… happened.” Shikamaru raised a brow. “Nothing?” You sank into the cushions a little deeper and gave him a look. “I mean, except for you randomly kissing me on that training field and then pretending like it didn’t completely scramble my brain.”
A corner of his mouth lifted, something slow and slightly smug. “Randomly? You were the one who pinned me to the ground.” “That was a sparring maneuver.” You rolled your eyes, but your lips tugged upward despite yourself. “You kissed me, remember?” He shrugged again and lowered himself onto the couch beside you, deliberately close. “Seemed like the right move at the time.” You ate in relative silence at first. It wasn’t uncomfortable.
The young man blew on the noodles before slurping them down, his usual expression of faint disinterest returning every now and then between bites. You watched Shikamaru from the corner of your eye, amused by the speed at which his food disappeared. “Did you even taste it?” you asked eventually, quirking a brow as he lowered his bowl. He gave a small shrug. “I was hungry.” You picked at your own ramen with a faint smirk. “Clearly.”
Shikamaru shifted beside you, leaning back into the couch. One arm draped along the backrest—casually, but it settled just behind your shoulders, his fingers barely brushing the fabric of your dress. Not quite touching you… but close enough that you felt the warmth of him, the nearness. The kind that made you hyperaware of your own breathing. The other hand lifted to rub lazily at the back of his neck, his movements slow, unbothered. “Could’ve told you no. Could’ve gone home. Slept.” “But you didn’t,” you said softly, not quite looking at him. “No,” he admitted, voice low and a little rough, his eyes half-lidded as he turned just slightly toward you. “Didn’t want to.” There was a pause. One of those stretches of silence that wasn’t awkward—but heavy. Charged. His fingers shifted, brushing a little closer to your shoulder, just enough to set your skin tingling beneath your dress. You didn’t lean in. But you didn’t lean away, either. There was a pause, long and warm.
Then he sat up and gestured vaguely toward the windowed door. “Mind if I smoke?” You shook your head. “Go ahead.” He stood and slid the glass door open with a soft sound, stepping out onto the small balcony that overlooked the quieter side of the village. The cool evening air slipped in around the edges of the room. You finished the last few bites of your ramen in silence, your thoughts drifting somewhere behind your eyes.
You followed him a few minutes later, barefoot on the smooth wood floor, your bowl now empty and set aside. Shikamaru leaned on the railing, cigarette between his fingers, the glow of the ember pulsing faintly in the growing dusk. The breeze ruffled his hair slightly. He didn’t turn when you stepped out. You didn’t say anything, either. You moved past him, quietly, and turned to rest your elbows on the balcony railing, leaning back against it with a soft sigh. Your eyes closed for a second, the breeze cool against your skin, your head tilted slightly toward the stars just beginning to peek through the dark. The sound of the village was soft below. Somewhere far off, a dog barked. The faint clang of metal echoed from a distant training yard. But here—it was still.
You opened your eyes again and turned your head slightly, watching him as he took another drag. His profile was quiet, unreadable. The same look you remembered from a hundred nights like this, from campfires and debriefings and the uncertain in-betweens of wartime. “You remember the coastal mission?” you asked suddenly. He glanced sideways at you. “Which one?” “The one with the smugglers. Three years ago. Before I joined the ANBU.” Shikamaru made a soft noise of recognition, exhaling smoke out toward the sky. “Right. The warehouse. You almost got crushed under a collapsing ceiling.” “You dropped that ceiling.” “It was tactical.” “You said, ‘Oops.’” He gave a faint snort. “Still tactical.”
You laughed, leaning your head back again, the sound brief but real. “You really were sure I was going to die.” “I wasn’t.” His voice was low. Thoughtful. “I was sure you wouldn’t let yourself.” You turned your head toward him, slowly. “I remember thinking I’d never felt more tired,” you murmured. “Everything ached. My legs were jelly. You pulled me out by the strap of my vest.” “You told me if I yanked any harder, you’d puke on my boots.”
“I meant it,” you grinned. He gave a half-smile of his own, the cigarette hovering near his lips again. The smoke curled lazily around him, catching in the breeze. It didn’t bother you like it used to. Now, it just smelled like him. Like missions and late nights and something too familiar to ever forget.
“I miss that,” you said softly. “Not the danger. Not the blood. Just… that kind of simplicity. Being on a team. Knowing someone had your back. Knowing it was you.” He didn’t answer right away. Then he flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette and murmured, “You were always the one who moved first. I just made sure no one stabbed you in the back while you did.” You smiled faintly, the words warm against the growing chill in the air. “You ever think about what things would’ve been like if I hadn’t joined the ANBU?” you asked, more out of the silence than out of hope for an answer.
“All the time,” he said, too easily.
You blinked. Looked at him. He didn’t meet your gaze. Just took another drag. Your throat felt tight, suddenly. Like something unnamed had been sitting there, waiting. You looked out over the edge of the balcony again, eyes tracing the rooftops and familiar shapes of the village that had never really changed. Only you had. “I still remember the way you looked at me when I told you I was accepting the offer,” you said. “Like you already knew I was going to say yes.” “I did,” he replied quietly. “Didn’t mean I liked it.”
You were quiet for a long time.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. He finally looked at you then. Really looked. “Because it wasn’t my decision,” he said. “And because… if it had been me, I’d have gone too.” You swallowed. There was something heavy in the air now, but not suffocating. Just weighty. Full of everything that had never been said but had always been there—hovering, like smoke that never quite cleared. “I thought I’d forget how this felt,” you admitted. “Standing here. With you.”
“Did you?”
You shook your head.
He dropped the cigarette to the ashtray on the railing and crushed it out, the ember vanishing.
“Come back alive,” he said simply.
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in his voice. “I always do,” you replied softly. “Yeah,” he muttered, gaze flickering down. “But I still like hearing it.” You pushed off the railing and moved closer, slow. His eyes lifted again as you reached up, fingers brushing lightly over his sleeve. “You could’ve told me this before the kiss,” you said, almost teasing, but something in your voice wavered. He gave a small, tired smile. “Would’ve ruined the moment.” You huffed a quiet laugh. “You’re an idiot.” “I get that a lot.”
Another beat of silence passed between you.
Then, softer—almost reverent—you murmured, “I’m glad you came tonight.” Shikamaru’s eyes didn’t leave yours. His voice was quiet. Steady. “Yeah. Me too.”
You weren’t sure who moved first. But it didn’t matter.
His lips met yours with a quiet kind of urgency—like a thought that had been unfinished for far too long. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t fumbling. It was slow and real and known. The way his mouth moved against yours, warm and certain, told stories neither of you had ever dared speak aloud. It was familiarity wrapped in something newly blooming. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission—because it had always been waiting.
He tasted faintly of smoke and something softer underneath. His hand came to rest at your waist, firm but not forceful, grounding you like he always had in the chaos of everything else. Your breath caught softly in your throat as you tilted your head, letting yourself lean in—just enough to fall. You pulled back only slightly, just enough to whisper the question against his lips.
“…Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
Shikamaru opened his eyes, just barely. They searched yours for a quiet second before he spoke. “Timing,” he said. “Or maybe just me being a coward.” You huffed a breath of air that could’ve been a laugh if your heart hadn’t been pounding. “You?” He gave a small, rueful smirk. “Yeah. Me.”
And then he kissed you again.
This time, it wasn’t tentative. There was no testing, no lingering question. It was need—years of unspoken words, of shared glances and brushed hands and near-confessions left to hang in the silence. It was the release of everything you’d both held back for too long.
Your hand found his chest, fingers splayed over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath. Your other hand rose to the back of his neck, threading into the dark strands of his hair, drawing him closer. He let you. More than that—he leaned into you, the warmth of his body pressing against yours, matching your rhythm, deepening the kiss until you weren’t sure where one of you ended and the other began. The air between you shifted—warmer, heavier. Your breath mingled with his, skin prickling with every brush, every pull. You felt his fingers slide up your back, steadying, learning. Your body answered without hesitation, leaning into every inch of closeness he offered. It was heady and warm and utterly overwhelming. But it felt like coming home.
The kiss broke just barely—only enough to let breath return in shaky exhales. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-lidded, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Just the sound of your breathing. The quiet hum of the village night beyond the balcony. The way his hand didn’t leave your back. “…Still think the timing was bad?” you whispered, voice uneven. Shikamaru shook his head, eyes not leaving yours. “No,” he murmured. “Feels exactly right.”
The moment your lips met again, everything else fell away. The world outside your small balcony ceased to exist. There was only him. Only the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his breath hitched slightly when your fingers slid up into his hair, the way he pulled you just a little closer, like he couldn’t help it. It was slower this time. Softer. But no less consuming. Your heart thrummed beneath your ribs, loud enough you were sure he could feel it. You parted your lips just enough for him to deepen the kiss, and he did—carefully, deliberately—like he had all the time in the world now.
Your back bumped gently into the doorframe as you pulled away just long enough to look at him. His eyes searched yours again, quiet and unreadable, but his hands stayed on you—one resting against the curve of your waist, the other slipping to the small of your back. “Shikamaru…” you murmured, not even sure what you were going to say. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and rough with something unspoken. You didn’t finish the thought. Instead, your fingers curled into the fabric at his collar as you stepped back into the apartment, leading him with you. He followed without hesitation, never quite letting go of you, his fingers brushing against your skin with every step like a tether he refused to loosen.
The apartment was dim now, lit only by the low glow of the few candles you were lightening earlier. The ramen bowls sat forgotten on the coffee table, but neither of you even glanced at them. Every few steps, you stopped again—another kiss, another touch—like gravity kept pulling you back to each other.nBy the time you reached the hallway, you were both breathless, your smile caught between kisses and half-formed laughter. You bumped into the wall once, giggling against his shoulder. He mumbled something about how troublesome you were, but his mouth was on yours again before he could finish.
You didn’t let go of him. You didn’t want to.
Your hand slid down to find his, fingers interlacing, grounding yourself in the simplest, oldest gesture between you. The kind that said: stay. The kind that didn’t need words. When you finally reached the edge of your bedroom, you paused—just for a second. The air between you was warm and full and trembling with something delicate. His thumb brushed along your knuckles, eyes catching yours in the soft dark. “You sure?” he asked, voice barely more than a breath. You smiled, pulling him gently inside. “I’ve never been more sure.”
The door clicked shut behind you, but you barely heard it over the soft sound of your breaths—his and yours, mingling in the quiet. Shikamaru kissed you again before either of you spoke—slow, aching, like he was trying to tell you something without words. You melted into him, arms curling around his neck, fingers threading into his hair. His lips moved against yours with reverence, with restraint that was fast unraveling. You could feel it in the way his hands gripped your waist—gentle still, but with an edge of urgency just beneath the surface. Like he’d waited too long already.
The soft material of your wrap dress shifted under his fingers as he followed the curve of your body. When his knuckles brushed against the tie at your waist, he paused. His forehead rested against yours, and for a heartbeat, he simply breathed you in. Then he tugged the knot loose—slowly, carefully—watching the dress come undone like the last piece of distance falling away.
Fabric whispered to the floor, and you stood before him in nothing but delicate lace and bare skin. His eyes moved over you, not with hunger, but awe. Like he was seeing something rare. Something fragile. Something Shikamaru didn’t dare rush. “Damn…” he murmured, so low you almost missed it. His thumb traced along your hipbone, barely there, like he was afraid to press too hard and shatter the moment. You could feel your pulse flutter beneath your skin, your breath catching when he leaned in again—not to kiss your mouth this time, but the corner of it. Then your jaw. Then lower. Each press of his lips was deliberate, unhurried, trailing heat wherever it landed.
Your fingers found the hem of his shirt and slid beneath it, palms meeting warm skin. He inhaled sharply, but didn’t stop you. You undressed him in silence, your touch lingering, mapping the contours of his body like a blindfolded prayer. When your eyes lifted back to his, the air between you was thick—heavy with want, with everything you hadn’t said and everything you didn’t need to.
You leaned up to kiss him—this time slower. More intentional. And he kissed you back like he finally understood what it meant to need.
Shikamarus fingers skimmed the edges of your lingerie, reverent, featherlight. As if your body was a secret he was being allowed to learn, one breath at a time. When he pushed the straps from your shoulders, he didn’t tear them away. He watched the way your skin reacted to the cool air, his hands steady, his gaze impossibly soft. You gasped softly as his lips found your collarbone, a kiss so tender it ached. Your back arched instinctively, inviting him closer, and he accepted—his hands cradling your ribs like something precious. One slid to your lower back, pulling you flush against him, while the other traced a slow path downward, past the lace and silk, until every layer between you had been undone.
You were bare to him now, completely. But somehow, you’d never felt safer. He looked at you like he’d never seen anything more important.
Shikamaru leaned in, and your lips met once more, soft and steady. His kiss no longer asked a question. It gave an answer. His hands found your back, pulling you close again, chests pressed together, heat bleeding between you. You melted into him, fingertips sliding up the line of his spine as you kissed him deeper, slower. There was no urgency here—just quiet, careful hunger. The kind that had been held back far too long. You barely noticed the way you drifted toward the bed until the backs of your knees brushed against the mattress. He paused, looking at you again—just a breath of space between you—searching your expression for any trace of hesitation. You gave him none. Only a soft smile, your hands guiding him forward with a whisper of pressure.
The bed gave beneath your weight as you lay back, and he followed you down with quiet reverence. The world narrowed to the sensation of skin against skin, of warmth and breath and the gentle weight of him above you. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing just beneath your eye, as if grounding himself in the reality of your presence. Shikamaru kissed you again, and this time his mouth didn’t just kiss—it lingered. He traced the edge of your jaw with slow, deliberate care, moved to your neck with soft, lingering pressure, coaxing sighs from your lips you hadn’t meant to give. His touch followed—fingers trailing along the lines of your collarbone, your sides, your waist—like a silent conversation passed through skin. You arched slightly into his touch, eyes fluttering closed. Your breath caught when his lips found the hollow of your throat, slow and sensual, his hand splayed against your ribs. The way he moved wasn’t hurried. It was intentional. Like each moment was meant to be savored, as if he wanted you to remember not just the feeling, but the meaning in every press of his mouth. Your hands roamed in kind, fingers gliding over the muscles of his back, the curve of his shoulder, the warmth of his skin. You felt every shift of him above you, every careful adjustment as he leaned down again, kissing you with more certainty, more need.
His hand skimmed down your thigh, pausing only to anchor you closer again. Your fingers slid into his hair, grounding yourself in the way he made you feel—seen, held, wanted. Shikamarus lips returned to yours, slower now but burning, and you met him with equal fire, your body instinctively rising to meet his. There was something sacred in the way you moved together, like every unspoken feeling was finally given space to breathe.
You could feel his restraint slipping away, the once-gentle brush of his fingertips on your thigh turning into a possessive grip. His kiss deepened, no longer tender but hungry—his tongue tangling with yours, demanding, urgent. Your legs parted instinctively, welcoming him closer, and he responded without hesitation. His hand slid upward, caressing the delicate skin of your inner thigh, sending shivers racing through you.
The contrast between the chill of the room and the growing heat between your legs sent a ripple of anticipation through you. You bit your lip as his fingers found your wetness—your arousal slick and warm against his touch. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating from his chest into your core. Shikamarus thumb circled your clit with the lightest, teasing pressure, and you moaned into his mouth, your body instinctively arching toward him, silently pleading for more.
Shikamaru didn’t make you wait.
He explored you with an intoxicating blend of tenderness and intensity, his fingers delving into your folds as if Shikamaru were learning you by heart. Each stroke of his thumb against your clit was a question, each curl of his fingers inside you an answer. You responded in gasps and whimpers, your hips rolling against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he gave so generously. His eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with a need that went far deeper than lust. It was raw. It was real.
His name fell from your lips in a breathy whisper—“Shika…”—and his expression darkened with want. He leaned down, pressing his mouth to yours again, his kiss open and consuming, as if he needed to taste every sound you made. As his fingers continued to work you, his lips left yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. When he found your pulse, he sucked gently, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, leaving behind a mark only you would know was there.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him impossibly closer. You could feel the hard press of his cock against your entrance, and it made you gasp—so close, and yet not enough. He paused again, one hand still pleasuring you while the other gripped your thigh tightly. His gaze locked with yours, wordlessly asking. You nodded, eyes wide and filled with trust and desire. He shifted his hips, the blunt head of his cock nudging against your opening, the stretch delicious and slow as he began to sink into you.
The moment Shikamaru entered you, the world seemed to go still. It wasn’t just physical—it was profound. The way he filled you, inch by inch, made you feel claimed, possessed, and utterly cherished. The stretch was intense, a perfect ache that had you clenching around him, your breath catching in your throat. His eyes searched your face for any sign of discomfort, but all he saw was your need, your raw openness.
Shikamaru stayed there, unmoving, letting your bodies adjust, letting the sensation sink into both of you like heat into skin. Then, slowly, he began to move—each thrust measured, deliberate, as if he were savoring every second, every inch of friction. You met his rhythm instinctively, your hips rising to meet his in a dance older than time. Your breaths tangled, your mouths met again, and in that moment, it wasn’t just sex—it was something far greater.
Your hands roamed his body, feeling the flex of muscle beneath sweat-slicked skin. His back arched into your touch, and his movements grew more confident, more demanding. You whispered his name like a prayer, like a plea, and it spurred him on—his hips snapping forward, harder now, deeper. Shikamarus mouth left trails of fire across your collarbone, his tongue and teeth alternating between teasing and worshiping your skin. When he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, you cried out. His tongue swirled around the stiff peak before he grazed it gently with his teeth, and the jolt of sensation shot straight to your core. He palmed your other breast, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers until you were arching off the bed, your cries filling the air. Your bodies moved as one—sweat and breath, moans and gasps blending into a symphony of unrestrained need. You clung to him, nails digging into Shikamarus shoulders, leaving marks that would remind him of this moment for days to come. “Harder,” you gasped, and he obeyed, his thrusts becoming powerful, unrelenting, driving into you with a force that bordered on wild.
“Look at me,” Shikamaru growled, his voice thick and broken, and your eyes snapped open, locking with his. The intensity in his gaze was staggering—feral, tender, worshipful. “You’re mine.”
You nodded, the word catching in your throat as the pleasure built higher, tighter, unbearable.
“Always,” you whispered.
The word shattered something in him. He surged forward, hips slamming into yours with punishing precision. You could feel yourself tightening around him, your orgasm clawing its way through you, a tidal wave threatening to consume you both. Your cries grew louder, your voice breaking on Shikamarus name as the world spun out of focus.
And then it hit you.
You came with a scream, your body seizing around him, muscles contracting in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Shikamaru followed moments later, groaning your name as he buried himself deep inside you, his warmth flooding into you in hot, pulsing bursts. The sensation of him filling you, of your bodies locked so tightly together, sent another ripple of pleasure through you, leaving you trembling and breathless.
You clung to him as your bodies trembled, lost in the aftershocks of shared release. Shikamarus thrusts slowed, becoming gentle, almost reverent. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and collarbone, a tender contrast to the fury of moments before. Your bodies remained tangled, breaths mingling, heartbeats racing in perfect unison. In the quiet aftermath, nothing else existed—just the two of you, suspended in the stillness, wrapped in the glow of something that felt like more than desire. It felt like devotion. The rise and fall of his chest began to slow, calming in the hush that settled over the room. It was as though neither of you dared to speak, in case words might break whatever this quiet thing was now blooming between you—fragile and beautiful, like morning light just before it touches the world.
But eventually, he shifted.
Just enough to press a kiss to your hairline. Then another, softer, to your temple. And finally, he leaned back, brushing a few strands of hair gently away from your face. His eyes found yours in the dim candlelight still flickering from the hallway, and for a long moment, he just looked at you. Really looked.
There was no smirk. No laziness in his expression. Just something still and certain. Something that reached deeper than words.
He sat up slightly, careful with you. The sheets rustled as he leaned over to grab the light blanket at the foot of the bed, unfolding it and laying it over your body with a quiet kind of reverence. The aftercare wasn’t showy, but it was there—in the way his hands moved gently across your skin, the way he brushed a kiss to your shoulder before laying back down beside you.
His hand found yours again beneath the covers, intertwining your fingers with a sigh that sounded like peace. You stayed like that for a while. Quiet. Breathing. Feeling. His thumb traced over the back of your knuckles like he was memorizing every detail.n“…I leave tomorrow,” you said at last, your voice quiet and barely audible in the stillness. “First light.”
He didn’t say anything for a second. Just nodded, slow and thoughtful. His eyes didn’t leave yours.
“I know.”
You turned to face him more fully, resting your hand against his chest where you could feel his heart beating—steady and strong beneath your palm. “I’ll come back,” you said, softer now. “To you.” His gaze flickered, just slightly. Something tightened and then released in his face, like he was trying to pretend your words hadn’t meant more than they should. But his fingers tightened around yours, just enough for you to feel it. “Tch,” he muttered, eyes closing briefly. “You’d better.”
You let out a small laugh, the sound breaking through the tenderness like sunlight. His lips twitched at the corners, but his expression remained subdued. “I mean it, Shikamaru,” you said, more serious now. “Whatever happens… I’ll come back.” “I know,” he said, quieter still. “But just in case…” He leaned in again, pressing one last kiss to your lips—slow, anchoring, the kind of kiss that said more than anything he could ever phrase aloud. It wasn’t full of desperation. It was full of promise. You let your forehead rest against his, your noses brushing, breath mingling in that last shared quiet before the weight of the world returned. Neither of you said goodbye. You didn’t need to.
Not when you’d already decided to return to each other. Not when your hearts had already met halfway.
'Teasing a genius sometimes isn't the best idea even if he seems lazy'
@2-c4ndy
Warnings: mostly fluff, established relationship, some suggestive stuff but not nsfw.
Short trip to the Nara forest.
You were not supposed to be here.
It had started as a random comment from your side about how pretty deer were when you encountered one during a mission. And of course, your boyfriend heard, and your boyfriend was a Nara. So now he had smuggled you into the Nara forest against all clan rules.
“Stop making so much noise,” he grumbled as you two walked toward his favorite spot.
“Sure, I’ll just make my feet not step onto the dry leaves all across the floor. Maybe I should fly to prevent that,” you replied sarcastically, making him roll his eyes.
“Don’t be stupid,” he grumbled again.
“And stop being so paranoid. It’s not like you haven’t gotten grounded before, and it’s not gonna happen anyway,” you said, poking his side. He flinched for a moment and swatted your hand away.
“I’m not. You’re just being troublesome,” he said, giving you a small glare—without any actual annoyance behind it. Then he looked away again, like he was waiting for his dad to materialize out of thin air and scold him.
You rolled your eyes but decided to shut up for the moment. The forest was beautiful—more than any normal one. There was something… ancient about it, almost magical. You could almost feel the trees breathe with the wind, the clan’s ancient runes carved into the stones adding to the pull of the place.
“They like you,” he whispered softly, so quietly it was almost imperceptible but calm.
Your brow furrowed a bit. “What do—”
Your words were cut off by a startled yelp as you felt something press against your back, followed by a very distinctive snort behind you. And despite all your ninja training or experience, your body reacted before your mind did. A very loud yelp left your mouth before you could even think, and your hands flew to grip Shikamaru’s arms, nearly jumping into them.
Then you looked back. Of course, it was a deer. A very massive deer, staring straight into your soul.
“...Why is he so massive?” Your voice came out in a whisper, torn between the urge to run and the impulse to pet it. It was cute—just extremely terrifying.
“You asked me the same thing last night, and you didn’t seem so scared,” he snorted teasingly, earning a smack to the chest.
“They’re just big. They’re not gonna attack you. They know you’re with me,” he said with a sigh, taking your hand in his and guiding it slowly but firmly to the animal’s fur, helping you get used to it.
Your body gradually relaxed, a small smile forming on your lips—both from Shikamaru’s closeness and from the way the deer seemed to enjoy your touch. After a few moments, the deer bowed slightly to Shikamaru before running off into the trees.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he said calmly, moving his hand to your waist and rubbing small, slow circles into your skin with his thumb, making you smile a bit more.
“Still… I wouldn’t have expected a chunin like you to get scared by some deer. A bit pathetic, don’t you think?” he whispered against your ear, making your smile fade into a smirk as you rolled your eyes.
“I will punch you,” you muttered.
“Troublesome woman… you’re the one who decided to come here, you know?” he snorted, his hand still on your waist, the other tucked in his pocket.
“I’m not the one causing such a scandal and breaking clan rules just to hang out with my girl,” you teased with a dramatic gasp.
“And I told you to keep quiet. Which we both know you don’t know how to do,” he replied, raising a brow.
“Yeah? And what are you gonna do tie me to a tree? Because Im not being loud. You're just too quiet,” you shot back.
“Don’t tempt me,” he smirked slightly, though you could swear you saw his eye twitch a little.
Then he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice low and slow and entirely too effective.
“Yet I wonder what other sounds I could get out of you… out here, where no one’s around to hear.”
Your breath caught, and he chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face like it meant nothing.
“But for now,” he murmured, stepping back with that lazy smirk, “you’re on deer watch.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Now behave,” he said, pulling away just far enough to smack your ass—not too hard, just enough to make you gasp while somehow making the gesture seem casual. Of course, he resumed walking like absolutely nothing had happened.
“I hate you,” you grumbled, walking beside him again, but any other complaints died on your tongue the moment you arrived at a small body of water.
There was a tiny cascade, with baby deer learning to walk near a big tree, others grazing nearby. It felt… safe.
“…It’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe.
“I know,” he said softly, barely audible, as he moved to lay on the grass, tugging you down with him to sit.
“The forest likes you,” he murmured again, pulling you to lay across his chest.
“Is that because I like you?” you chuckled softly.
“Don’t get sappy… but yeah, most likely,” he whispered, hugging you a bit closer, eyes closing for a moment.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but the sun was already beginning to set when you opened your eyes again. He stirred a little, still holding you close.
At first, you thought the distant voice was your imagination.
How about Shikamaru x reader who is possessive/jealous? Other characters would be great too if you feel up to it!
WARNING !! : Fluff, Kiba being a little shit. Lemme know if I missed anything!!
Featuring : Shikamaru Nara, and Kiba Inuzuka.
A/N : Most definitely, anon! Here ya go (*´꒳`*)
Shikamaru isn't one to monitor other people's lives and meddle in their business. In fact, he finds it annoying enough that his own duties take up most of his free time. So it makes no sense for him to keep close watch on you when he wouldn't bother to do the same for his other friends.
He spends the time he has off sparring with you—never bothering to ask since you somehow always beat him to it. Secretly, the favoritism you show towards him only makes his possession of you grow stronger. It especially doesn't help when you throw yourself onto him and shower praises of how generous he is for helping you, thanking him over and over again until he's forced to pry you off. He'll give you an unbothered shrug and claim it's the least he can do for someone so kind.
It doesn't take long for him to realize this small favor he commits to isn't just because you're an acquaintance of his, but rather he finds you special compared to the others. There's something about you that keeps him wondering when the next time he might be able to see you will be. Sure, it's a daily routine where you come and ask a favor, saying he's the only one you trust to help since he always gets the job done right. What is there to worry when he knows you'll come to him every time with no hesitation?
Wrong.
He waits all day for a knock at his door, your shy voice behind it as you ask him to let you in. Perhaps if he went on a walk through the village with a bored frown plastered on his face, you'd magically appear and give him a reason to turn it upside down. Though time passes by quickly, and he realizes that you wont be coming around after all. It hurts more than he believed it would, overwhelming himself with endless questions on why you hadn't showed up like you normally do.
Days go by where he doesn't see or hear from you, and thats when panic settles in. Have you found someone else to take care of you and keep you company? Or pick another guy to be one of your favorites? He grinds his teeth together at the thought of some loser stealing his place as your number one choice. Embarrassingly, he grows slightly insecure the longer about the matter. Had he not been enough to maintain your attention and satisfy you?
Finally, he decides to go search for you himself, not wasting a second before he's running out the house and all over the village. He checks all your favorite restaurants to eat at, all your preferred stores, and even at your own apartment. Each stop is just another block of worry building up in his body, leading him to go practically crazy.
Then suddenly it clicks in his brain that you must be at your usual training spot. Why hadn't he thought of that before? There isn't a moment where he doesn't have over 100 options mapped out in his head, especially when it comes to you. But pushing that aside, he jumps from tree to tree, scanning all over the forest to catch glimpse of you.
It's not until he reaches your reserved training spot does he hear the giggle he's memorized in his mind more times than he count. Though to his surprise you're not alone, because he makes out another figure beside you. He groans at the recognizable hair, never expecting his best friend Choji, to be there.
He jumps down from the leaf covered branch of a tree, landing steadily on his feet. The look on your face when you notice his presence is full of guilt. You seem scared that he's finally caught you, pressing your lips together and stiffening your body. It'd be cute if what he'd come across wasn't so aggravating.
"This where you've been everyday?" Shikamaru says nonchalantly, though his eyes tell a different story. Choji immediately turns toward him at his words, revealing stained teeth with a welcoming smile. It's clear his best friend has no clue of tension stringing between you and him with how normal he's acting. After all, he'd hate to ruin a friendship over a girl that may not even feel the same way he does.
He knows Choji means no harm because for as long as they've been friends, there'd been a strong sense of understanding. And with that being said, how could someone like him ever compete with someone 10 times better? With all due respect, of course. "Oh, Shikamaru! Hey man, how've you—" But the sentence is cut short by a now annoyed voice.
"Could you leave us for a moment? There's something we need to talk about." His eyes don't blink not once, rather remained glued to yours. Choji mumbles a small 'okay' and disappears into the forest, leaving you and him alone at last. Slight breezes of wind brush past your hair, lifting pieces up with it.
Aside from gentle gusts, it's quiet. An uncomfortable silence as you both stand still in waiting of the other to speak. "You didn't answer my question earlier." He mumbles, folding his arms against his chest. His eyes watch you swallow down nothing but air, probably out of nervousness. "Look— I haven't been avoiding you I've just been... well, busy." The look on your face screams bullshit, but he knows you've never been a good liar anyways.
"Busy running off and not bothering to show up and let me know you're okay? How considerate of you." He lets his arms fall to his sides as he slowly approaches you. His footsteps are meant to taunt you, to rush you for an actual honest answer. And of course it works, making you not so discreetly tap a finger against your pants while coming up with a choice.
He's gets closer and closer, fighting back a small smirk that twitches his lip upwards. The awkward silence coming from you doesn't seem to help that much either. "Okay fine." You clench your fist and face him head on, suddenly with bravery. "I didn't want to annoy you with my constant nagging for your help. You just come off as annoyed and uninterested, so I figured i'd give you some space."
Shikamaru had considered that being one of the possibilities, but it didn't make sense to him at the moment. Once he comes close enough to your body, it's easy to notice the way you flinch away. In spite of that, he reaches his arms out to pull you close into a tight hug. He can hear the little gasp that leaves your lips from how close you are to him.
"Yet I still do everything you ask of me anyways." He squeezes tighter. "I'd do anything you told me to. Don't ever try and avoid me again, alright?" Pressing a small peck to your forehead, you blush. He can't see it, but he can surely imagine. And deep down he hopes you never go as far as ditching him for another guy ever again, or next time he won't be as nice.
From the very beginning of your friendship, Kiba had always been overprotective over you. Staring down every boy who so much as dared to look your direction, picking a fight with sore losers that tried to make a pass at you, and plenty more. He'd always been territorial over the things he valued, so why would you be any different?
You'd been so nice to him, as well as everyone or anything. A part of him liked to believe he was special to you, someone who you could trust and turn to in any given situation. In fact, he'd say he was all you needed in life. He could keep you safe and happy, loving you with everything he had to offer.
Though after a while of his delusions, he soon began to realize he wasn't the only important person in your life. He realized this the day he took you out to eat at Ichiraku Ramen, excited that the two of you were basically on a date, despite you not knowing. But what he never expected was for someone to come in and ruin his evening alone with you.
Shino, his close friend decided on stealing the attention away from him and making it his own. You had welcomed him to sit next to you, insisting the three of you could enjoy time together as a group. And sure enough, the bug lover apathetically accepted and took the seat right of yours.
The whole time was essentially torture for Kiba, having to sit there and watch you giggle with the audacity of letting someone other than him entertain you. He swears a vein would pop out of his forehead every time you so sweetly smiled at another's words. It wouldn't help the anger flowing throw him when he'd make a snarky comment against his friend, only to be gently scolded by you.
"C'mon, be nice today. I just want to peacefully eat a meal without any problems." You'd sigh, picking up more noodles with your chopsticks to slurp up. The words left him frustrated, yet for the sake of you he managed to stay respectful the rest of the time. But how could you recognize his dislikes and still push it aside with no sympathy? The thought puzzled his mind.
A couple hours passed as you kept conversation with Shino, and he was beginning to grow impatient. How could someone so plain be getting this much attention from someone like you? And last time he checked, the two of you were never close before. It made no sense how a weirdo like his friend could ever pull someone like you, perfect in every way possible.
When you finally finish your meal and call in quits for the night, he slaps yours and his fee onto the counter and says his thanks to the old man, grabbing your wrist to drag you from the booth and away from Shino. "Wait— Kiba! Why are you rushing me out of there? I didn't even get to say bye!" He holds back a growl at your shouts, ignoring the people who stare and whisper at the scene. All that mattered was getting you far away from that ramen shop so he could at last spend one-on-one time with you.
"Let me go!" With a tug of your arm, his grip is released and you stumble backward. This time a noise does escape him, quickly turning around to bark out a complaint, but you beat him to it. "What's going on with you? This whole day it's like you've been so–" You stumble for words, rubbing the reddened mark on your wrist.
Kiba rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. "Annoyed?" He mumbles, finishing your sentence. You nod your head, keeping silent to await his much needed explanation. He resists at first, but shortly realizes your stubbornness wouldn't be that simple to overcome.
"Fine. It just..." A breath rolls into his lungs, is held, and then is released. "It pisses me off seeing you all friendly with another guy. Makes it worse with him being my friend too." The words aren't easy to admit, given the blushed tint that paints his cheeks with embarrassment.
He watches your furrowed brows relax and eyes soften, but he doesn't expect you to tilt your head to the side and giggle. Had he said something stupid? Is that why you were now tenderly laughing in front of his face? "What's so funny?" He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Y'know if you're gonna laugh at me like this every time I open up, then–"
His words are abruptly interrupted due to your arms being slung around him. You pull him closer to you in an attempt to soothe his frustrations, nuzzling your head right below his chin. His body stiffens up and heat travels up his neck, flustered from the sudden contact.
The two of you keep quiet to bask in the moment until he can't take the feeling of you pressed against him much longer. Clearing his throat to give you a hint, you pick up on it but hesitate. "I'm sorry I made you feel like that. Next time, i'll be more aware." you whisper into his chest, giving one last squeeze before pulling away.
Kiba remains standing stiffly, face redder than a strawberry. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging right about now.
This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...
You must be 18 years or older to read this...
🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞
Summary: after a long and stressful day you need your boyfriend’s attention but he is unable to give it to you because he’s asleep, what is left for you to do?
Word count: 1.1k
CW: NSFW and adult content, non-con/dub-con, Somnophilia (fake), daddy kink, dirty talk, slight hand job, mention of masturbation, unprotected sex, riding.
Shikamaru was a pretty lazy guy, though lazy never really felt like the right term… maybe unmotivated, uninterested, dull… perhaps apathetic… it didn’t really matter all that much, he was your boyfriend and you loved him dearly regardless of his motivations or lack there of.
You stepped into your shared apartment and noticed his shoes laid haphazardly next to the door, “I’m home…” you called out and received a muffled groan in response, you sighed and slipped of your shoes as you closed the door behind you, walking down the hallway towards the bedroom you explained out loud to Shikamaru about your day, “my students were being such trouble makers today… they made a mess of the training yard and left me to clean it” you hissed and opened your bedroom door, “I’m so annoyed, I’ve been thinking about you all day” you sighed and stepped into the room, moving to slip off your pants and shirt, to walked up to the end of the bed and saw him lying in bed, you walked around and placed a hand on he bare chest feeling him breath, “are you sleeping?” You question and quickly realised he was in fact a sleep.
You crawled into bed and cuddled into Shikamaru’s side as you ran your his body, you hummed as you slowly traced your finger down his stomach towards his lower region, you found the not only was shikamaru not wearing any pants but his cock was as hard as a rock, you gently wrapped your fingers around his base and squeezed ever so slightly, “it’s so hard… are you dreaming of me” you hummed and slid your hand up and down slowly, he grunted and his cock throb, you chuckled slightly and pulled the bedsheets back, exposing his body, your eyes racked over him and you took in all his muscles, you never tired of seeing him naked, you climbed atop of him and pulled your panties to the side as you directed his cock into you.
You sank down with ease as you took Shikamaru completely, he grunted and his hands moved to his hips, you watched his face and waited for him to open his eyes or speak to you, in the past Shikamaru and you had discussed this type of sex and agreed it’s be enjoyable for either of you, but now that you were actually doing it you were almost tempted to wake him up and see if he was alright with it, despite his body reacting very positively to you, you rolled your hips pressing your hands on his chest for support.
You would often ride Shikamaru, however he didn’t like when you ground your hips down, he’d complain it made you both cum too quick, though you really enjoyed it so you decided to take full advantage of this opportunity and become grinding down hard on his cock, letting it throb like crazy inside you as you squeeze him so tightly you could feel every inch perfectly.
Shikamaru’s hands rested on your ass as you ground yourself on him, nestling him deep inside of you, you rolled your hips and dug your nails into his chest, “oh fuck… Shikamaru I’m so close” you cried out loud throwing your head back and rocking your hips back and forth frantically, “yes yes yes… please” you sobbed as you felt his cock begin to twitch inside you as you reached your first orgasm, you slowed your rocking and pulled your hips up until his tip was all that remained in you, leaning in you kissed his sleeping face softly, “I’m gonna soak your cock so good…” you moaned against his lips before lowering yourself, you slowly begin bouncing yourself up and down on his length, all the way up until he was almost completely out of you and down so far his tip light pressed into your cervix… his cock rubbing against your g-spot and filling you just right with every movement you make, “god… your cock it perfectly” you moaned pressing down again and rolling your hip in a circle before pulling up again.
You begin increasing the speed and force of your movements, you moved your hips faster and harder, so hard a clapping sound echoed through the room as you brought yourself down on Shikamaru, with each time you brought your hip down you ground yourself hips down roughly, that force of your body on him made the bed shake.
Shikamaru grunted heavily as he squeezed your ass cheeks and clenched his teeth, baring them to you as his brow furrowed, you rolled your hips and leant into him, moaning loudly in his face, “fuck my pussy good…” you whined and pressed your breast against his chest, rubbing your body against his as you continue you spew nonsense you normally wouldn’t have the guts to, “god yes, fill my tight cunt…” you moaned and sat back up bouncing quickly on him, you felt him his cock throb and twitch, “please fill me daddy” you cried raking your nails into his hair and squeezing him as you came, desperately milking his cock of whatever he was able to give, “fuck it feels so good… oh yes daddy” you sobbed as his load filled you, your body shivered as you head hung back and your eyes squeezed tightly shut, relishing in the warmth of it.
“I didn’t expect you to be that wild…” you heard Shikamaru grunt, your eyes snapped open and you looked down as him, your hands still tangled in your hair while he gently rubbed your hips, “when did you wake up?” You squeaked and made a move to get off him, however he held you down and shook his head, “stay, daddy’s cum will slip out if your move” he chuckled and sat up hugging his arms around you, “I wasn’t asleep at all… I was taking care of myself earlier so I could sleep but then you came home” he hummed and pressed his face into you neck, “I wanted to see what you’d do…” he smiled against your skin and kissed your shoulder, “are you angry with me?” You whispered as you felt him laugh, “no… I’m pleased, I saw you genuinely enjoying yourself and we had an agreement about that kind of sex… that still stands true for me now” he hummed and you nodded hugging him tightly, “though the daddy part was a pleasant surprise… I liked it more then I ever expected to and that dirty mouth” he smiled and shifted you both so he was lying over you, Shikamaru rolled his hip and pressed into deeper then before “begging so me to fill your pussy” he whispered in your ear and your body shivered, “I almost thought I was asleep and in a dream I could only wished could come true” he smiled and you felt your face go red, “I think there’s still room for more” you whispered shyly and watched Shikamaru nod before rolled his hips upward into you, “plenty of room, babygirl.”
