Kakashi would be genuinely enthusiastic the first time you asked him to make it more rough. He adapts seamlessly to your desires, restraining his own instinct to take you how he wants it.
So much so that he found far too much pleasure in it to care for even a second about your nails digging into his back, dragging down toward his waist as your sweet, desperate voice begged him.
“Mhmm, Kakashi…”
He nestled his face into your neck, moving slowly, carefully inside you as your body tightened around his painfully hard dick.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“More, please…Ah!” He tested a harsher thrust that almost made your eyes roll back, your legs locking around him, pulling a groan from his lips.
“More, you say?” He cradled your head against his collarbone as he began driving into you so rough your lungs barely had time to catch a breath between each pound, tears streaking down your cheeks.
Yet, when you noticed after a little trail of blood from the mark you had left on him, Kakashi only lifted an eyebrow at your saddened expression.
“What happened?”
Too shy to voice it, you merely pointed with your eyes. He turned to glance at the mirror, and contrary to your fears, Kakashi’s dick grew hard again.
He chuckled as you hid under the pillow, only your timid, lovely eyes peeking out.
“Don’t worry about it. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if you did some more…”
He loomed over you, his smirk pronounced as he gently lowered the pillow concealing your beautiful body.
🍃 Itachi
Itachi is especially focused on how you feel, never overstepping or pushing your limits—perhaps only when he enjoys edging you until you’re crying from pleasure. But rough? He’d need to be absolutely certain before even considering it.
His breath faltered, whispering against your lips as you reached for more and more of him, desperate to feel him closer.
“Are you sure, [Name]?”
“Mhmm, please, my love—” Your sinful words caught him off guard, especially as your hand pressed against his back, urging him closer. “You never go too rough… But I—I need it, Itachi—”
He couldn’t suppress the low groan that escaped as your plea left your mouth. Lifting his head to gaze at you one more time, his lips captured yours, while his hand pinned yours against the mattress as he began to move—slowly, yet with enough roughness to make you cry out his name. Occasionally, his voice broke through in whispers of reassurance: “My lover take me so well… Mhm… just like that.”
Afterward, as he began covering your body in reverent kisses, murmuring his gratitude in every touch, his head lowered further down, his back exposed to you. You gasped at the scratching marks you saw there.
He raised his head, waiting patiently for you to speak, knowing your talkative side during moments like this was only ever temporary.
“I-Itachi… your back.”
You hid your eyes behind your hands, but he leaned closer, nuzzling into your face and pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“It’s a price I gladly pay for you, [Name].”
🍃 Shikamaru
As you bounced up and down on him, Shikamaru’s mouth fell open only to spill praise over you as you do all the work.
“Feel…fuck—so good, babe.”
But your whines wouldn’t stop as you struggled to move faster, desperate to take him deeper. You buried your head into his neck.
“I-I want more…”
His dick twitched inside you at your timid words, his hands sliding over your hips as he pulled you down at the same time his own thrusts rose to meet you, driving even deeper.
“Yeah, want it rougher? Then take it rougher, babe—”
Without pulling out, he shifted you onto your back, his pace suddenly plunging so deep it stole every breath from your lungs. His teeth sank into his own lip so hard he swore blood might spill, just like the sting he felt on his back from your scratches. Yet he stayed silent, unwilling to break the moment when your cries of pleasure were so utterly raw.
When at last both of you finished, he collapsed onto his back on the bed, one eye closed, the other cracking open toward you.
“What did I do to deserve such punishment, huh?”
You turned your head away immediately, guilt flushing through you so strong you couldn’t meet his gaze. Shikamaru noticed at once, and with a sudden pull that made you yelp, he dragged you onto his chest, wrapping you in a loose embrace as he closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
“Shh… it was worth it.”
🍃 Naruto
“I-I want to try it rougher.”
Usually, he was the one making you blush with his raw, unfiltered words. But right now? Naruto found himself stammering, his cheeks instantly flushed.
“Y-you want me—want me to go r-rougher?”
You nodded slowly, noticing how his pupils dilated at the thought of your body struggling to take him. It only took a moment before Naruto was all over you, carrying your body down with him onto the bed, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. He was already moaning into your sweet mouth, his tongue urgently seeking yours, swirling with hunger.
“Why didn’t you say so, hm?”
You chuckled softly, gazing into his feral eyes.
“I…I just did, Naruto.”
He shook his head dismissively before lowering his mouth over your body until his teeth found the loosened fabric of your bra, tugging it down.
Soon, it was almost a contest—who could moan louder—as his too-hard dick drove into you like his very life depended on it.
“Fuck, baby! You feel so good, so … good. The best—Mhm! I only ever want this — thrust —sweet —thrust —pussy for the rest of my life—”
His dramatic declarations were overwhelming, making your heartbeat race so fast it felt like you might faint. Combined with the force of his thrusts, it made your hands act on their own, dragging across his toned back, leaving scratches that made his eyes widen and his mouth fall open at the sensation.
The moment you realized what you had done, you began to stammer an apology, but he silenced you instantly, kissing you like a starving man as his thrusts grew desperate, teetering on the edge.
“Do it again, baby. Please—I need it!”
🍃 Sasuke
With Sasuke, it wouldn’t take long before you asked for it. You could feel him trying to be gentle, sweet, yet his rough grip betraying him sometimes when you called his name, an undeniable urge to claim you in every possible way. Mentally, he struggled as he moved inside you, barely holding back curses at how well you took him.
When you cupped his cheek, pleading with those sinful, adorable eyes for him to be rougher, it was as if a switch flipped inside him.
“Rougher, hm?”
He flipped you onto your belly, lifting your hips to bend more for him, groaning as he admired the view. He couldn’t resist leaning close, tasting you, teasing your pussy just a little. He parted your folds, licking a string from your needy hole to your swollen clit as your legs trembled.
“Sasuke…”
He raised his head, licking the evidence from his lips, taking himself in hand, mesmerized by how tightly you held him. Your grip was already too much, and he gripped your hips rougher.
“Stop that if you want more.”
You obeyed instantly, yet your body still trembled uncontrollably. When he began again, deeper, rougher, your voice could barely manage anything but his name. He couldn’t contain himself any longer, reaching that point where every thrust, hitting and pressing, pushed him closer to the edge—until he pulled out, flipping you onto your back again.
He needed to see your face as he came; it was mandatory, a look reserved only for him. The shake of his teeth against your neck compelled you to do the same, marking him with your nails along his back, drawing a hiss from him.
“Fuck, [Name]—What are you doing to…me?”
The question meant something else entirely, because in response to your touch, his thrusts became sloppy, almost careless, yet each one made him teeter on the brink, imagining both of you leaving marks on each other.
An impulse of possessiveness surged as he saw his bite on your neck, yet your eyes…were sad? As your fingers traced lightly across his back, he hesitated.
“What are you thinking about?”
You met his gaze shyly.
“Are you upset with me?”
Upset? More like obsessed. Yet, he didn’t say that out loud.
“No. It’s fine.”
Only the faint blush on his cheek betrayed a hint of the truth.
🍃 Obito
Obito can barely restrain himself each time he’s inside you—he’s utterly obsessed with your pussy. Especially eating her. He’d gladly stay between your thighs the whole day if only you allowed him. But being inside you? Ah, he could lose himself in you anytime you desired, always at your disposal.
“Mhm, my baby likes it? Tell me how much you like it, [Name].”
“Obito, deeper! I want you deeper—”
You hadn’t even finished your sentence before Obito began driving into you harder, moaning against your lips as your body stretched further around his dick.
“Yeah? You want me deep inside you? To feel me here?” He guided your hand above your waist, and your eyes widened when you realized just how deep he was, almost sending you over the edge with that feeling alone. Instead, your nails dug into his back hard enough to make him hiss, but he only thrust deeper.
“Fuck, baby—Yes, let it out on me. All of it.”
When you buried your face against his chest after both of you came undone in an explosive rush, Obito tried to coax your flustered expression to meet his gaze, but you only whispered shyly, ashamed.
“I’m so sorry, baby… I hurt you…”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple and pulling you over him as he rolled onto his back.
“I love it, [Name]. I love seeing you lose yourself for me like that.”
You blinked twice at his smiling face before resting your head against his chest, blushing.
“You’re insane…”
🍃 Neji
Between you and Neji, there was always an unspoken battle of silence—both of you too introverted by nature, making it hard not to say something when the quiet felt heavy. Yet the gentleness he carried each time he had you was so overwhelming that you couldn’t help but plead, staring at him as he hovered above you, moving in and out of you so slowly, so sweetly, his hand clasped with yours beside your head.
“N-Neji?”
He glanced down at your lips, then at your eyes, faltering in his movements as though afraid of doing something wrong. He only murmured a soft, “Hm?”
“C-can you do it… rougher?”
He froze inside you at that, eyes widening as he felt himself twitch, the urge to move nearly undoing him. He held back just enough, then did exactly as you asked—his pace quickening, driving deeper.
At some point, you were stunned by him, as though he was punishing your pussy, his mouth falling open, struggling to contain his sounds as the entire bed shook.
“[Name]!”
You barely stopped your nails from digging into his back, but the damage was already done.
Still, he wasn’t angry; he too felt himself losing control. When he pulled you into his arms at the end, his voice was anxious as he whispered.
“Did I do something wrong? Was I too rough?”
You looked at him, nearly on the verge of tears.
“No! It’s my fault, I’m sorry—you felt so good that I didn’t think—“
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”
He stroked your head as you rested it against his chest, your panic dissolving in the calm of his voice.
Including: Naruto, Gaara, Sasuke, Kakashi, and Shikamaru
Warning- NSFW + implied women reader
Naruto
A man who’s more romantic than you’d thought. He’s gentle, even when he’s twisting your nipple between his fingers or when threading your hair from behind you as he fucks you deeper.
Yet he’s cheeky too, of course he is. He’ll pull the band of your panties, snapping it against your hip to draw a gasp from you. “What? … if you want me to stop you can just take ‘em off,”
——
Sasuke
A man that craves praise, oh you like when he slides his tongue against your folds? You bet he’s gonna make you beg for it next time, god complex.
Jealous jealous jealous…He sees you talking to a guy earlier that day? That same night he’ll make you whimper that he’s the only man that can fuck you right, the only man that can give you what you really want. “I’m not jealous, I just know I can fuck-“ he thrusts deep,“-You better, huh,”
——
Kakashi
Sex is great, but what makes it better is when he has you on your stomach, fucking you from behind so good as you read him icha icha. And if you stop, he’ll stop with the most devilish smirk. “Come on baby, keep reading I wanna hear that pretty voice of yours,”
Also a man who loves outfits, he’ll splurge for sure his pay checks on new skimpy outfits for his gorgeous wife. He’ll love to rip the fabric, like a starved man who hasn’t seen you for months- the last time you guys fucked was that morning.
——
Shikamaru
Morning wood everyday. Every. Single. Day. He’ll cuddle up close behind you, his clothed dick pushed right up against your plush ass. His fingers slide into your undergarments, lazily teasing your clit.
He wants you on top 85% of the time. “Get on top,” he’ll be blunt, sitting on the couch with a sodoku puzzle in his hand. But when he does choose to be on top, it’s brain mush worthy. Knees pushed right up to your chest, his chain slapping against your cheek.
——
Gaara
Definitely likes to fuck you in his office, on a rare occasion but it does happen. If he finds the bedroom getting too boring, you’ll be in the next night, bent over his desk- he’ll even wear the kazekage robe.
“Shh, my love,” he’ll whisper in your ear, footsteps ascending outside the closed but not locked door. His thick fingers pressing inside your mouth to keep your quiet as he continues his relentless thrusts that hit you in every right place. “Be good for your lord, yeah?”
summary: the heat of battle had long since faded, but the tension between you never had. It clung to the quiet moments—unspoken, sharp-edged, and waiting. When Team Taka paused for a single night of rest, beneath a sky washed in twilight and steam rising from ancient stone, you thought you might finally breathe. But some silences burn hotter than war. And when eyes linger too long, when touches hover just a moment more—something always breaks. Or claims.
The path narrowed beneath your boots, winding like a quiet thought through the cedar forest. Soft light filtered through the high canopy, gold pooling at the roots of trees and brushing the worn earth in patches. Somewhere ahead, the sound of water echoed—lazy, unhurried, spilling down stone and vanishing into moss. Evening hadn’t fully arrived, not yet, but it lingered at the edges. The kind of hour that felt like an exhale after holding your breath too long.
You could feel the change in the air.
It wasn’t the cold, though that crept in, subtle as a fingertip against your neck. It was the hush. The way the forest quieted around the five of you. Like it, too, knew this wasn’t a mission. No blood, no orders, no chase. Just a rare pause in the endless current you’d been swept into since joining Team Taka. Since aligning yourself with something that felt darker than you could name, but never cold enough to leave.
Leaves shifted underfoot as you walked, their dry crackle giving rhythm to your steps. Jugo moved steadily a few paces ahead, his silence steadying—like stone at the heart of a storm. Karin followed closely behind him, muttering something about the mineral content of the spring and how it would ruin her hair. You’d half-listened, smiling once when she’d sighed dramatically and tugged her cloak tighter around her shoulders. She had a flare for discomfort, made it sound romantic.
Suigetsu was at your side. Of course he was.
He walked like the world owed him something, his hands folded behind his head, blades strapped lazily at his hip, his grin a little too sharp for how soft the forest looked in the fading light. “You know,” he started, the drawl in his voice already a provocation, “you could’ve walked closer to me earlier. I don’t bite.” You gave him a sideways glance, mouth quirking before you could stop it. “That’s rich, coming from a guy made of water.” He laughed, low and pleased. “Water can be dangerous, you know. Especially when it gets into places it shouldn't.” You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t walk faster.
The path dipped then rose again, a gentle curve that led toward the steam rising faintly between the trees ahead. You could smell it already—warm minerals, damp stone, the barest trace of sulfur. The onsen was real. After days of tracking, hiding, running—it was real. Your shoulders sank slightly at the thought, the weight of it slipping lower along your spine.
Suigetsu must’ve caught the change in your posture, because he leaned in closer, voice dropping just enough to brush the shell of your ear. “I bet you’re the type to wear something modest, huh?” His grin curled. “Or maybe not.”
Before you could answer, before you could do more than raise an eyebrow, a sharp glance cut between the trees ahead.
Sasuke.
He hadn’t said a word in the last hour—not since you passed the river crossing where he’d stopped for water and stared at nothing for a heartbeat too long. But now his eyes flicked back toward you and Suigetsu, brief and unreadable, like the shadow of a bird crossing over stone. You felt it more than saw it. A shift in the air. The tension of something held tightly in place. He turned back before either of you could react. But something about the way his jaw tightened said enough.
You tilted your head slightly, just enough for your voice to carry without rising.
“Well, in that case,” you murmured, eyes still on the path ahead, “maybe I won’t wear anything at all.” The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It pulsed—thick with implication, humming in the space between one breath and the next. You didn’t look at Suigetsu, but you could feel him freeze for half a step, then exhale a soft, choked laugh, like he wasn’t sure if you were teasing or tempting. “Damn,” he breathed, grin widening. “Now that’s not fair.”
But it wasn’t his reaction you were listening for. You watched Sasuke’s back instead—watched the way his shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly, like someone had pulled a wire taut beneath his skin. He didn’t glance back this time, didn’t say a word, but the quiet around him deepened. Grew heavier. Like the forest itself had drawn closer to listen.
The trees began to open, just slightly. The path widened to a clearing where the air shimmered with rising heat. Stone steps emerged beneath patches of soft moss, leading up to a split in the terrain. One path veered left, toward the bath; the other bent right and disappeared behind a veil of mist. “Finally,” Karin huffed, adjusting her glasses. “My legs are going to thank me for this.” The clearing opened wider now, the path giving way to weathered stone steps wrapped in creeping moss and low-hanging mist. The smell of mineral water hung thicker in the air—rich, metallic, ancient. It curled into your lungs and settled there like something half-forgotten, something the mountain had been keeping warm for centuries.
A single wooden structure stood tucked between the trees, more shrine than shelter, its beams dark with age and slick with moisture. Lanterns had been lit along the entryway, their soft amber glow pulsing behind pale rice paper. Steam poured from behind the slatted walls in lazy drifts, rising into the fading sky like whispered prayers.
You stepped forward with the others, your body already easing into the idea of stillness. Jugo was the first to disappear inside—silent, respectful, his form folding neatly into the fog. Karin followed, mumbling something about temperature and skin pH under her breath. You caught the flash of her red hair as she vanished behind the curtain. That left the three of you. Suigetsu stretched his arms above his head with an exaggerated groan. “Now this is how a rogue shinobi should live. Hot water, no enemies, and—” he glanced sideways, his smile slanting, “—excellent company.” You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your idea of a mission report?” He laughed. “What can I say? I’m a man of culture.” But again, you weren’t looking at him.
You felt Sasuke more than saw him. A presence just behind your left shoulder, still and silent like a blade balanced on its edge. He hadn’t moved in several heartbeats, and when you finally glanced back, you caught the faintest shimmer of restraint in his posture. Arms crossed. Eyes unreadable. But there was a tightness in the line of his throat. Barely there. Telling, if you knew where to look. You did. “This one’s mixed, by the way,” Suigetsu added as he stepped forward, nudging the curtain aside. “Konyoku. Just the five of us. No rules.” He grinned at you, then shot a glance at Sasuke. “Unless someone wants to make some.”
No answer. Only quiet.
You slipped past the threshold, the air inside warmer, heavy with vapor and old cedar. A small alcove housed baskets and folded towels, a stack of simple cotton robes. You took one without thinking, your fingers brushing damp wood, the grain smooth from years of use. Your skin already tingled with the promise of heat, of letting go.
The quiet in the changing room wasn’t absolute—it shifted with the rustle of fabric, the low clack of hairpins falling into baskets, the sigh of breath held a moment too long. The air was warmer here, rich with cedar and steam curling in from the cracks in the wooden slats. Lantern light flickered softly overhead, washing the space in gold and shadow. You peeled your outer layers away with slow movements, your skin grateful to be free of the weight of travel. Somewhere to your left, Karin cursed under her breath as she tried to untangle her damp cloak from her shoulders. “Honestly,” she muttered, pulling her hair up into a twist, “we track rogue ninja for days, but heaven forbid my jacket comes off without a fight.”
You glanced over, watching as she narrowed her eyes at her reflection in the darkened glass pane nailed above the washstand. Despite the faint flush of travel across her cheeks, she still somehow looked composed—sharp lines, sharper wit. She caught your eye. “You’re not going to pretend you don’t notice, right?” she asked, a sly edge to her voice. “The way Suigetsu’s been circling you all day like a vulture with a crush?” You let the corner of your mouth lift, folding your clothes neatly into the basket beside you. “I’m used to it.” Karin scoffed. “Used to it isn’t the same as uninterested.” You didn’t answer. Not directly. Just reached for the thin cotton robe and slid it over your shoulders, the fabric clinging slightly to the heat of your skin. “He’s not subtle,” you offered finally. “No,” she agreed. “But then again—neither are you.”
You didn’t ask what she meant. The look in her eyes said she wouldn’t answer anyway.
By the time you stepped out into the main corridor, the scent of the spring was already stronger, curling in your lungs, tugging you forward. And Suigetsu was waiting. Leaning against the far wall, shirtless, robe slung low across his hips, a towel carelessly draped around his neck. His silver hair was damp, slicked back and shining faintly in the low light. When he saw you, something in his grin changed—less casual, more focused. Like he’d been waiting for this exact moment to arrive. “Well, well,” he said, pushing off the wall with easy grace. “I was starting to think you got lost in there. Shame—I was hoping for a proper entrance.” You raised an eyebrow, walking past him slowly. “You mean, one you could stare at longer?” “Caught me,” he said, unabashed. “And I’m not even sorry.”
You paused near the doorway, letting the steam kiss your skin, letting him look. His gaze wasn’t crude—just hungry. Not for your body exactly, but for the reaction he could draw from you. The game of it. The edge. “I hope,” he added, voice lower now, “you sit next to me in the water. Wouldn’t want this heat to go to waste.” You turned to look at him fully then, your voice quiet but clear.
“Don’t worry, Suigetsu. I run hotter than I look.”
That grin of his? It didn’t falter. But something in his eyes sparked—a flicker of genuine intrigue that sat just beneath the teasing. Then the door slid open, the mist rolled over your ankles like smoke—and the heat of the spring swallowed the rest of your words whole. The steam curled thick around you as you stepped into the spring, heat lapping at your calves, then your waist, drawing a long, low breath from your lungs. The world outside blurred—trees and rocks and sky all swallowed by mist and warmth and the muted hush of water meeting skin. It was the kind of heat that seeped into your bones, softening every edge, every tightly wound muscle. You felt yourself begin to melt.
Jugo sat farther off, shoulders deep in the far end of the pool, head tilted back against stone. His eyes were closed, expression distant—serene, almost. He looked like he belonged to the mountain. Karin was already in, arms propped along a rock ledge, her legs outstretched beneath the surface. The steam clung to her hair, pulled tight in a knot, droplets catching on her glasses. She glanced toward you as you settled nearby and gave a slight eye-roll. “Of all the places to end up together,” she muttered, “it had to be a mixed onsen.”
You didn’t answer. Not because you didn’t have anything to say—but because Suigetsu entered the water just then, with all the subtlety of a crashing wave.
He slid in beside you, grinning like he had already won something you hadn’t agreed to play for. The water rippled out in soft rings as he leaned back against the smooth stone behind you, stretching one arm along the edge behind your shoulders—close enough to feel, not close enough to touch.
“You look like you belong in here,” he said, voice low. “Like you were made for this.” You arched an eyebrow. “Sweating in a pool of hot minerals?” Suigetsu smirked. “I was thinking more along the lines of steam and moonlight.” You didn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. But your gaze shifted—unbidden, instinctive—to the darker shape that had just appeared through the fog. Sasuke.
He moved with his usual quiet—slow, precise, measured. The kind of stillness that drew attention without asking for it. Water barely stirred as he stepped in, his robe discarded somewhere behind the boulders. His hair was damp, clinging to the line of his jaw, the rest of him half-swallowed by shadow and heat. He didn’t look at anyone. He didn’t have to. He settled near the edge, a few paces away from the rest of you, arms resting on the rocks, head turned slightly toward the trees. Like he was listening to something none of you could hear. But you felt his awareness. You felt it like the prickle of heat against your skin—subtle, constant, watchful.
“You know,” Suigetsu said, his voice dipping low as he let himself drift a little closer, “you never actually said if you were serious.” You tilted your head lazily, the warm water lapping at your collarbones, steam curling around your skin like silk. “About what?” He grinned—slow and sharp, eyes flicking over your bare shoulders with open interest.
“That thing you said on the trail.” His voice dropped to something just above a whisper. “About not wearing anything.”
You didn’t look at him, not right away. You let the silence stretch, watched the ripples move across the surface of the spring, and then—very slowly—you turned.
“I didn’t say it to be funny.”
Suigetsu blinked. For once, his cocky grin faltered—just for a heartbeat, before it slipped back into place, softer now. Less a smirk, more a surrender. “Shit,” he breathed, eyes locked on yours. “You're really trying to kill me.”
You smiled, just barely. “Maybe.”
And then—just for the fun of it—you rose a little from the water. Not enough to reveal, only enough to suggest. Just a hint. His breath caught audibly. Across the spring, something shifted in the mist. A presence more than a sound. You didn’t need to look to know it was Sasuke. You felt it. The air around him stilling. The quiet deepening like pressure beneath the surface of a wave. You let your gaze flick toward that shadow—half-concealed by steam and stone—and met eyes darker than the night above. Suigetsu was still watching you like he’d forgotten how to blink.
You settled deeper into the water, letting it rise just below your collarbones, steam curling like breath around your bare skin. The heat was almost dizzying now, soaking into you, flushing your cheeks with something more than temperature. “You know,” he said again, voice rougher this time, low and slow like it might slide against your skin, “I’ve had dreams that start less promising than this.”
You tilted your head, feigning thought. “That so?” He grinned. “Not one of them ended with me keeping my dignity intact, though.” You laughed quietly, the sound escaping before you could stop it. It felt good—unrestrained, warm, like something you hadn’t let yourself feel in weeks. The mountains seemed to echo with it, the trees holding their breath. “And here I thought you didn’t have any dignity to begin with,” you teased. Suigetsu clutched his chest dramatically, letting himself sink lower in the water as if your words had wounded him. “Cruel,” he groaned. “Beautiful, but cruel.”
You were about to reply—something smart, something worse—when you caught it again. That weight. That stillness. You didn’t need to turn your head to feel Sasuke’s gaze brush your skin. It wasn’t intrusive, wasn’t lecherous—nothing like Suigetsu’s playful hunger—but it was there. Focused. Steady. Like he was trying to understand something he couldn’t name. Your eyes flicked toward him—just a glance through the mist. He hadn’t moved. Still half-shadowed, arms folded along the edge of the spring, dark hair clinging to the curve of his neck. But his eyes were on you. He didn’t blink. Didn’t pretend not to see. Didn’t pretend not to care. Something in your chest tugged tight, unexpected.
Before the moment could stretch too long, Karin’s voice cut through the air like a pebble through glass.
“Oh my god, Suigetsu,” she snapped, “would you shut up already?”
You turned just in time to see her pushing herself off the rock ledge, arms sloshing water as she waded a little closer. Her glasses had fogged slightly, but not enough to hide the sharpness in her eyes—or the flush creeping up her neck. “Seriously,” she went on, voice full of acid-sweet disdain. “You’re embarrassing yourself. Again.” Suigetsu didn’t even flinch. “Aw, Karin. Don’t be mad just because the view’s not of you tonight.” Her mouth fell open in outrage. “You slimy little—!”
You started laughing before she could finish, the sound bubbling up unfiltered, a sudden rush of warmth against the thick air. It spilled out of you too easily—honest, unguarded—and for a moment, the tension in your chest loosened completely. Even Karin froze, caught off guard by the shift in your expression. She blinked once, then rolled her eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t get stuck. “Whatever,” she muttered, turning her back and sloshing away again, muttering something about “morons” under her breath. Suigetsu leaned a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “See? I knew I could make you laugh.” You turned toward him again, amused despite yourself. “Is that your goal? Flirt until I crack?”
“I wouldn’t call it cracking,” he said, watching you from beneath damp lashes. “More like… melting.”
The words lingered in the air between you, sticky and warm as the steam. You were about to reply—something sharp, something clever—when another voice cut in, quieter, colder.
“Suigetsu.”
One word. Flat, steady. But it moved through the haze like a blade.
You turned your head just enough to see Sasuke more clearly now, his form still half-submerged in shadow, arms draped along the edge of the spring, dark eyes narrowed. The steam curled around his shoulders like smoke, and for a moment, he looked less like someone bathing and more like someone waiting for a fight to start.
“Enough,” he said. Calm, but firm. “You’ve made your point.”
Suigetsu blinked, as if surprised to be addressed at all. Then, slowly, that lazy grin of his crept back in place like it had never left. “Come on, Sasuke,” he drawled, stretching his arms out wider across the rocks. “Just appreciating our teammate’s… confidence. You don’t own all the silence around here.” His voice danced with mischief, but there was something else beneath it now. A hint of provocation. As if he knew exactly which threads he was tugging. You didn’t say anything. Just leaned back slightly, the stone cool against your spine, and let your mouth curve into a quiet, knowing smile. Not at Suigetsu. Not at Sasuke. At the space between them.
Sasuke didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. His eyes flicked from Suigetsu to you and held there—just a second longer than necessary. The water rippled softly where his fingers touched the surface, a subtle tension in his jaw that only someone who knew him would have noticed. You tilted your head and met his gaze with deliberate ease. And smiled. Not a challenge. Not an apology. Just a spark. Something unspoken passed between you then—wordless, heatless, deeper than either of you was ready to reach for. And still, Suigetsu chuckled low under his breath, breaking the moment like a ripple through still water. “Careful,” he said lightly, “or I’ll start thinking you’re jealous.” Sasuke didn’t look at him. Didn’t even blink. But you saw it—the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not a smile. Not really. But not nothing, either. And that, somehow, was more satisfying than any reaction you could’ve hoped for. You shifted slightly in the water, letting your shoulder brush Suigetsu’s again, playful and slow, before sinking deeper into the heat with a soft exhale. Let them stew.
After all, the water wasn’t the only thing simmering tonight.
Eventually, Suigetsu’s words began to fade into quieter things. He still grinned, still let his shoulder brush yours once or twice, but even he wasn’t immune to the pull of the onsen’s warmth. The minerals soaked into his muscles, and his voice, once so sharp with flirtation, dulled into a lazy hum, his head tilted back against the stone.
Karin was the first to leave. She mumbled something about “pruney fingers” and needing to dry her hair before it frizzed, shooting you one last look you couldn’t quite read before she climbed out and disappeared behind the bamboo screen. The scent of her perfume lingered faintly behind, floral and acidic. Jugo followed soon after, as quiet in his exit as he had been during the entire soak. He nodded to you in that gentle, solemn way of his, a silent acknowledgment, before slipping out into the cooler night.
And then, it was only the three of you.
The heat had long since sunk into your bones, softening muscle and thought alike. The water curled around you like silk, fragrant with cedar and iron, as if the earth itself was trying to cradle your skin. The quiet between the three of you had grown dense—not uncomfortable, but not empty either. It pulsed softly in the steam. A low hum of awareness.
Eventually, you felt the shift in your own body. The way your limbs, slack with warmth, started to stir beneath the surface. The gentle ache in your shoulders, in your thighs. The knowing that rest had settled long enough.
Time to move.
You exhaled slowly and leaned forward, fingers skimming the surface as you pushed up onto your knees. The water slipped from your body in slow, weighty waves, heat trailing behind like reluctant hands. You rose. Unhurried. Unbothered. Uncovered.
The water rolled off you in long rivulets, catching the lantern light as it traced the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the soft weight of your breasts, the swell of your hips. The cool night kissed you instantly, raising goosebumps across your exposed skin, but you didn’t flinch. You welcomed it. Let it draw the heat closer, concentrate it. And you felt them. Both of them.
Suigetsu went very still.
His gaze, no longer teasing, turned liquid—heavy and openly reverent. He didn’t even pretend to look away. His jaw slackened slightly, one hand drifting beneath the surface of the spring, forgotten. He didn’t speak right away, and the silence that followed said more than his usual thousand words ever could. You stepped forward slowly, droplets trailing down the inside of your thigh, across the backs of your knees, and you knew without seeing that every shift of your body was being watched.
And Sasuke—
He hadn’t moved. But his eyes…
You didn’t need to meet them to feel their weight on your skin. Not curious. Not surprised. Just… alert. Fixed.
As if every drop of water clinging to your skin had his attention. As if he was memorizing the exact shape of you in this light, at this hour, like he was afraid it would vanish. Your hand reached for the robe draped neatly over the bamboo rail. The cloth was cool, the texture rougher than you remembered, and for a long moment, you let it hang in your grip—deliberately slow, deliberately still. Behind you, Suigetsu finally spoke, his voice low and thick with awe and something more dangerous. “If that was your exit,” he murmured, “you just ruined every fantasy I’ve ever had.” You paused, hand still resting on the tie of your robe, and glanced over your shoulder—just enough to meet his gaze. A slow, dangerous smile curved your lips. “Then you need better fantasies,” you said softly, voice like smoke. “That was nothing.” Suigetsu made a low sound in his throat—half-laugh, half-groan—but didn’t argue.
The robe slid over your shoulders, clinging faintly to damp skin, outlining more than it hid. You tied it loose, unhurried, and turned slightly—enough to glance over your shoulder. Suigetsu was still staring. He didn't bother to hide it. His expression was open now, unguarded. Almost reverent. Like someone who knew they were witnessing something they had no right to touch. You smiled, just a little. But it wasn’t for him. You shifted your gaze past him, to the stillness coiled in the steam. To Sasuke.
His expression hadn’t changed. Not much. But something in his eyes had darkened—just slightly. Something low and unreadable flickered across his face. A muscle in his jaw ticked, faint as a heartbeat. And he was watching. Not like Suigetsu did—hungry and open and hungry again—but deeper. Quieter. Like he was listening to a secret your body had just confessed. Your smile softened.
You turned fully now, barefoot against the stone deck, heat still clinging between your legs, across your ribs, behind your knees. You gathered your hair in one hand, lifting it from your neck, letting the air cool the damp line of your spine.
The changing room was silent, save for the soft creak of the wood beneath your feet and the distant hush of wind curling through the trees outside. Most of the lanterns had burned low, their light flickering across smooth walls and empty benches. The steam from the onsen still clung faintly to your skin, your robe damp where it rested against your spine. You slipped out of it slowly, letting it fall in a quiet heap at your feet, exposing your body to the cooler air of the room. Your fingers brushed the edge of a clean towel as you reached for it, ready to pat down the lingering heat, to smooth your hair, to return to the calm you’d wrapped around yourself like a second skin.
But then—
Footsteps. Soft. Deliberate. You didn’t flinch. Just let a small grin tug at the corner of your mouth as you tilted your head toward the sound. You didn’t need to turn to guess who it was. “Took you long enough,” you said, voice low, teasing. “Didn’t think you had the balls to follow me, Suigetsu.” No answer. Just silence. And that silence—
It felt different. Heavier.
The grin on your lips faltered, not quite gone, but pausing. The towel in your hands stilled. You straightened, slowly, listening. And then you heard it. The breath behind you. Not rushed. Not eager. Measured. Quiet. Too quiet to be Suigetsu. You had just enough time to turn your head—just a little—before a hand caught your waist and the other braced your shoulder, spinning you gently but firmly toward the nearest wall. Your bare chest met the wood with a soft thud, the grain cool against your heated skin. He stepped in close—closer than breath—and then you knew.
Sasuke.
His presence was unmistakable. Sharp and restrained and heavy like thunder behind the mountains. His body didn’t touch yours fully, not yet, but you could feel the heat of him—like a storm waiting to break.
“Sasuke,” you breathed, surprised, but not afraid. Not even close. His chest pressed against your spine then—solid, steady—and one hand smoothed along your side, fingertips skimming the curve of your waist. Slow. Intentional. Like he was memorizing what others only dared imagine. “I saw the way you looked at him,” he said quietly, voice a dark thread of breath beside your ear. You didn’t move. Not away. “You were watching,” you murmured, a hint of satisfaction in your voice. His hand slid higher, brushing the outer curve of your breast, not quite cupping it—just touching, just claiming. “I always watch.” That made something in your stomach tighten.
You could feel the tension in him, coiled and carefully held back. His fingers traced the line of your hip, the dip of your lower back. He didn’t rush. He didn’t need to. Every inch he touched felt like a quiet confession. “And what exactly are you doing here?” you asked, barely managing the steadiness in your voice. He didn’t answer right away. Just leaned in closer, until his breath grazed your ear and his chest fully met your back. You could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, low and steady, against your spine. “Reminding you,” he said. You smiled—slow, dangerous. “Of what?” He shifted then, one hand bracing the wall beside your head, the other sliding lower, over the swell of your hip. His voice was quiet, almost calm.
“That he can flirt all he wants.” His fingers tightened slightly. “But you’re still mine.”
You inhaled, sharp and shallow. His words weren’t loud. They weren’t boastful. But they burned. You let your head fall back slightly, resting against his shoulder, your bare skin flush against his warmth. His mouth hovered just over your throat now, not quite touching. Not yet. “And here I thought you weren’t the jealous type,” you whispered, just to test him. You felt his breath stutter—just once—against your skin. But his hands didn’t stop. “You’re wrong,” he said simply. “About a lot of things.”
That made you laugh—quiet and breathless. “Maybe I wanted you to see.” He went very still behind you. Then: “I know.”
You turned your head then, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder, your cheek brushing his.
“And what will you do about it?”
His eyes met yours—black, unreadable, burning with something deeper than anger, darker than want. His hand rose, cupping your jaw gently, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. “I’m already doing it,” he said. And then he kissed you. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just deep. Certain. Like he’d already decided—long before this moment—that you were his.
The kiss deepened, slow and consuming, like something long held back. It wasn’t rough. It didn’t need to be. The restraint in it—his restraint—made it burn hotter. Like fire fed through silk. Sasuke’s hand at your jaw shifted, tilting your face just enough to grant him better access, as though even your mouth now belonged to him. His lips moved with purpose, but not urgency—like he had all the time in the world to unmake you.
You were still pressed to the wall, the wood cool against your chest, a grounding contrast to the heat blooming across your skin. And then—he moved.
Fingertips, barely there at first, trailed along the edge of your shoulder, down the line of your spine, brushing over each vertebrae with maddening precision. His touch was electric—light enough to tease, firm enough to promise. You felt your breath catch as his palm flattened, gliding down the length of your back in a single, deliberate stroke. Your hands rose, instinctively reaching for him, but his free hand caught your wrist gently and pressed it back against the wall—quiet command, not force.
“Stay,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. And you did. His hand dipped lower now, tracing your waist, then your side—mapping the places that had been hidden in steam and silence. He moved as though he needed to commit every curve to memory, as though knowing you this way was not a privilege, but a right. You felt the heat build beneath your skin, from the inside out.
When his fingers brushed over your hip, your breath hitched. When they trailed further, tracing the outer swell of your thigh—your knee almost buckled. Still, he said nothing. Not until his hand paused, resting low at your waist again, splayed and steady. “You let him touch you with his eyes,” he said softly, voice rough around the edges. “Let him think he had a chance.”
His mouth returned to your neck, but this time, it wasn’t just breath. He kissed the space just beneath your jaw—once, twice—each press slower than the last. You felt it in your stomach, in your spine, in the ache blooming at the base of your throat. His hand slid further now, curling around your thigh, fingers tightening slightly. Not possessive—but certain.
And then—
He shifted behind you, pressing closer, until his chest met your back fully, until you could feel the rise and fall of his breath against your ribs. His hand smoothed forward, tracing the inner line of your thigh. A promise. A question. A warning. Your knees brushed, the tension coiling between your legs sharp and sweet. Still, Sasuke didn’t rush. Just let his fingers hover, let them drift, let you feel the weight of his attention in every inch of air between your skin and his. You exhaled, shakily, eyes fluttering closed. His lips hovered just beside your ear, his breath hot against your skin.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he murmured, voice low and taut. “Don’t let him look at you like that.” You turned your head slightly, enough for your mouth to brush the corner of his. “And if I do?” A pause. A shift in the air. His fingers tightened at your waist, deliberate, slow.
“Then I’ll punish you for it.”
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your own breathing—shallow, steady, as if your lungs hadn’t quite caught up to the weight of the silence. The space between you and Sasuke pulsed with something thick and slow-burning, like the last ember in a dying fire that refused to go out.
Then—he shifted.
You heard it before you saw it. The faint rustle of fabric, the soft whisper of linen sliding against skin, and the quiet finality of something falling to the floor. His towel. It landed with barely a sound, but the intent was deafening. Your pulse stuttered. He said nothing. Didn’t move to touch you. Not yet. But you could feel him behind you—his presence heavier now, less restrained. Not wild, never that, but sharpened to a single focus.
You remained still, standing in the soft light of the room, the scent of hot water and cedar still clinging to your skin. And then—
His voice, low and sure:
“Bend forward.”
It wasn’t a request. Your breath caught. Not from shock. From the way something inside you lit up in response—something instinctive and deep. You obeyed.
Slowly, deliberately, you turned toward the wooden bench, placing your hands on its surface. The wood was smooth beneath your palms, slightly cool against your heat-flushed skin. You bent forward, just enough for your back to arch, for your hips to tilt naturally, exposing the long, bare line of your spine, the soft swell of your hips, the curves he’d traced in silence only minutes before.
The air touched you like a second pair of hands—cool, then warm where his breath followed. He knelt behind you. You didn’t need to see it to feel it. There was a shift in the air pressure, the faintest creak beneath his knees, the stillness of a hunter closing in. And then—
His hands.
They returned like they’d never left. Slow, certain. They didn’t grab. They explored. His fingertips brushed the sides of your thighs first—so lightly you almost questioned if they were really there. Then upward, ghosting over your hips, retracing the same path with more pressure now, more possession. You closed your eyes, spine tightening slightly as your body responded—quietly, instinctively. He was touching you like someone who had held back for far too long. His thumbs skimmed the space just beneath your waist, circling slowly, grounding you. You felt every breath he took behind you. Then, without warning, his hand left your hip. Silence stretched again.
Clap!
The sound was sharp, clean, not cruel. His palm met the curve of your ass with a sting that blossomed quickly, heat blooming under skin already sensitized from his touch. Not brutal. Just precise. You gasped. Not from pain, but from how sudden it was—how intimate. But it was what came after that made your knees weaken. His hand lingered. Flat, broad, warm—he let it rest there like a seal, his fingers curling slightly, digging into the soft of your skin. Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you that he was there. That this was him. And that you were his. His thumb brushed a slow, deliberate circle over the tender spot he’d just claimed, and the silence he left in its wake felt loaded with heat.
“You’re quiet,” he murmured behind you, voice rough around the edges. “I thought you had more to say.” You smiled, lips parting with breath, eyes still closed. “I didn’t think you liked talking.” “I don’t,” he said, his hand trailing down now, slow and reverent, over the back of your thigh. “But I do like answers.” “To what?”
His other hand returned, gliding up your side, along your ribs. He didn’t reply right away. His thumb brushed the edge of your breast as he leaned closer, breath ghosting over the curve of your shoulder. “To whether you’re still thinking about him,” he said finally. “Suigetsu.” You turned your head, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. Your hair had fallen slightly forward, damp against your cheek, and in the low light, you caught the edge of his jaw, the darkness in his eyes. “I was never thinking about him,” you said softly. “Only what you would do.”
A pause.
Then his mouth was at your shoulder, not kissing—just hovering. You could feel how close he was. How tightly wound. “You wanted this,” he said. You didn’t deny it. And then—his touch changed again. His hands roamed more deliberately now, like he was no longer just committing you to memory, but writing something into your skin. A language only he would understand. His palms cupped the backs of your thighs, the curve of your hips, moved over the softness of your waist, brushing low along the front of your belly before retreating—teasing, never lingering long enough to satisfy.
He shifted behind you, not touching fully, but close. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin, the power in his stillness. You inhaled, shaky, your fingers gripping the edge of the bench. “Is this the punishment?” you whispered. He leaned in again, his breath against the nape of your neck now. “No,” he said. “This is the warning.”
The sharp sting of his palm still pulsed beneath your skin, warm and aching, when you felt him shift behind you—closer, lower. You were bracing yourself, breath uneven, when his hands steadied you once more, thumbs pressing gently into your hips, as if to keep you still. Then came the heat of his breath—low, deliberate, trailing down your spine in slow descent until it hovered just above the skin he’d struck. You didn’t move. Couldn’t. The tension held you in place, strung tight and breathless, your fingertips curling into the edge of the bench as if it could ground you.
But then—
You felt him.
His tongue, warm and unhurried, drew a single, slow line over the curve of your ass—right where his palm had marked you. The wet heat of it sent a jolt through your body, sharp, intimate and entirely unexpected. Your hips twitched, involuntary. “Sasuke—” you breathed, barely a whisper. He didn’t answer. Just gripped you firmer, his fingers digging into your flesh in a way that said stay still. And then he bit you. Not gently. Not playfully.
His teeth sank into the soft of you with intent—enough to make your entire body jolt forward a breath, your voice catching in your throat as fire rippled through you. It was possessive. It was a warning. And it was so intimate that your knees almost gave out. A strangled sound escaped your lips—part gasp, part moan, part something you didn’t have words for. His mouth lingered there a moment longer, tongue flicking over the mark he left as if to seal it in, to soothe what he’d claimed. The heat, the pressure, the slow drag of his tongue—it all blurred together until you couldn’t tell where his mouth ended and your skin began.
When he finally pulled back, the absence of him was just as loud.
But you still felt him—his presence, his breath, the ghost of his teeth. You felt it in your skin, in your spine, in the place where your thoughts had quieted into raw sensation. And then his voice came—rough, low, shaped more by breath than sound. “You’ll feel that tomorrow.” You couldn’t answer. Not with words. But your body did. The way you leaned back into his hands. The way your breath hitched. The way his name still sat on your tongue, unspoken but heavy.
He stayed behind you a moment longer, his thumbs brushing circles into your hips—slow, grounding, as though to remind you of who was touching you. Of who wasn’t. And when his lips brushed the curve of your lower back, soft now, like an apology he would never say aloud—
You knew this wasn’t just punishment. It was possession. And he wanted you to remember it.
The anticipation was almost unbearable as you felt Sasuke’s hardness press against you, his arousal unmistakable. He didn’t say anything, just let his actions speak for themselves—his hands sliding from your hips to your waist, his body moving closer, aligning with yours.
With a rough, claiming thrust that stole the air from your lungs he got inside you. You cried out, the sound echoing in the room, and he swallowed it with a growl that vibrated through you. His cock filled you completely, stretched you in a way that was both painful and exquisite. “Fuck, Sasuke,” you gasped, your voice shaking. He didn’t bother with sweet nothings, no gentle reassurances. This was punishment, after all. “You’re mine,” he murmured against your skin, his teeth scraping along your spine.
The words sent a tremor through you, your body responding with a clench around him that made him hiss in pleasure.
He began to move—slow, deep strokes that had your eyes rolling back in your head. The sting of his bite and the ache of his handprint were a constant reminder of what he’d done to you, what he was still doing to you. But it was the feeling of him, so deep and demanding, that had you losing your grip on reality. You felt your pussy start to get wet, a betrayal to the pain that was quickly forgotten as your body craved more. His hands slid around to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples just hard enough to make you arch your back into his touch. “You’re going to take it all,” he said, his voice a dark promise. And you knew you would. For him, you’d take it all.
The room was a blur around you, the only things in focus were the feeling of him inside you and the pressure building low in your belly. He moved faster now, each thrust hitting that spot that made your legs tremble, made you want to beg. But you didn’t. You held on to the edge of the bench with a white-knuckled grip, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.
You felt his hand slip down to where you were wet, his fingers teasing your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. It was like he knew exactly what you needed, and he gave it to you without asking. “You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “It hurts,” you admitted, your voice strained. “Good,” he said, the word a growl. “It’s supposed to hurt. But it’s also supposed to feel good, isn’t it?”
And it did. The pain and the pleasure were so intertwined that you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. His fingers played with you, rubbing in tight circles, as he pounded into you with a ferocity that had your toes curling.
Sasuke’s grip on your hips tightened, his thumbs digging in almost as much as his teeth had. He pulled you back into him with a force that made your eyes water, his cock slamming into you without mercy. The bench creaked beneath you with every powerful thrust, echoing through the room like a declaration of his ownership. Your breath hitched in your chest, turning into gasps that grew louder and more erratic with each movement. The sting of his earlier bite was now a constant throb that only served to heighten the sensations as he took you harder than you’d ever been taken before.
The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the room, punctuated by the slick wetness of his cock plunging into your pussy. You could feel the ache deepening, your body trying to adjust to his size, to the intensity of his claim. His fingers on your clit moved faster, more insistent, as he drove into you from behind, each stroke hitting deeper, rubbing against that spot that sent sparks of pleasure through your core.
“Sasuke—it’s too much—” you panted, your voice hoarse and needy.
His voice was a challenge, a taunt, and your body responded with a shiver that had nothing to do with fear. He was right. You’d always craved this from him—his dominance, his possession, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in his world when he was inside you. Your pussy clenched around him, desperate for more, and he gave it to you. His hips slammed into yours, each thrust more demanding than the last.
Sasuke’s hands left your hips, and for a moment, you were left to the mercy of his relentless thrusts, your body rocking back into him with every forceful plunge. And then—his fingers trailed down, down, until they hovered at the sensitive juncture between your thighs. You felt his touch linger there, teasing the tight ring of muscle, making your entire body tense in anticipation of what was to come.
Without warning, he pushed one thick digit into your ass, and you bit back a scream, the intrusion foreign but not unwelcome. The dual sensation of being filled in both places was almost too much to bear, but your body, trained to crave his dominance, opened for him willingly. The pressure was intense, but the slickness of your arousal and his steady rhythm allowed him to slide in deep, the digit joining his cock in claiming you fully.
Your breaths grew ragged, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to adjust to the new sensation. His pace didn’t falter—instead, he used the newfound leverage to drive into your pussy even harder, his finger curling inside you in a way that had your toes curling. You were stretched to the brink of pain and pleasure, a fine line that Sasuke danced upon with expert precision.
The feeling of his hand on your ass, his finger buried deep within, was almost too much to handle, but you didn’t protest. You knew what he wanted from you—what he always wanted. Complete submission. And as his thumb found your clit once more, pressing down with just enough force to make you whine, you gave it to him. The pressure grew, building like a storm in your belly, your muscles tightening around his cock and finger, your entire body straining towards release. His breaths grew harsher, his thrusts more erratic, and you knew he was close, too.
And then it hit—a crescendo of sensation that shattered you, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Your orgasm washed over you, a tidal wave of ecstasy that had you collapsing onto the bench, your limbs trembling.
But Sasuke wasn’t finished with you yet. He withdrew his finger slowly, the emptiness in your ass making you whimper, only to be replaced by the fullness of his cock. He pulled out of your pussy and pushed into your ass in one swift motion, making you cry out. You weren’t ready for this—his cock was so much bigger, and the burn was intense. But his hand was there, his fingers playing with your clit, keeping you on that delicate edge of pain and pleasure.
He took you with the same ferocity as before, his cock sliding in and out of your ass as he whispered dark promises into your ear. The burn grew with each thrust, turning into something else, something deeper, something that made you crave more. “You like this, don’t you?” he growled, his voice a mix of pleasure and challenge. “You’re mine. All of you. Every part of you.”
And you couldn’t deny it. Every inch of you was his, claimed by his touch, his bite, his cock. You pushed back into him, meeting his every thrust, begging for more even as your body screamed for mercy. He was unforgiving, his cock filling you completely, the stretch of your ass around him making you feel so impossibly full. The pain was sharp, but it was a reminder of who owned you, who was taking you so fiercely. And in that moment, you’d never felt more alive.
Sasuke’s breathing grew ragged, his hips pistoning into you with a force that had the bench groaning beneath you. You could feel him swelling inside you, his release imminent. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, he came—his hot seed filling your ass, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm.
The silence that followed was thick—settling over the room like steam, curling into every breath you tried to steady. Sasuke’s chest rose and fell against your back, his breath still ragged, the heat of him pressed along your spine. Neither of you moved. Not yet. His hands remained on your hips, fingers flexed faintly like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. Like he wanted the imprint of you to last a little longer beneath his palms.
You closed your eyes. Let yourself feel the burn in your thighs, the dull throb where he had held you too tightly, moved too deeply. The ache was raw, but not unwelcome. You’d asked for it. And he had given more than words ever could.
When he finally stepped back, the loss was immediate—cold air rushing in where heat had been, breath settling into the space his body had filled. You rose slowly, steadying yourself with one hand against the bench, the other brushing damp strands of hair from your face.
You didn’t look at him. Not right away. But he was still there—standing, composed, barely disheveled except for the sharpness in his gaze. He reached for his towel without a word, draped it over one shoulder, and then—finally—spoke. “Don’t make me remind you again.” His voice was low. Flat. No heat in it now—just fact. You turned, eyes catching his. There was no softness in his expression. No apology. Just that steady intensity that never seemed to break.
His eyes dipped briefly—tracing the marks he’d left on your skin, now blooming in quiet color along your hips, your thighs, the subtle red curve where his mouth had claimed you. When he looked back up, his mouth twitched—just barely. “You’re mine.” he said again. Not with fire. Not with gentleness. Just truth.
And you knew: it wasn’t jealousy that drove him.
It was certainty.
He didn’t reach for you again. Didn’t kiss you. He simply turned, collected what little he’d brought in, and left the room with the same quiet finality he always carried—with steps that didn’t ask for attention, only left it behind in their wake.
You stood alone in the warm hush of the changing room, skin still tingling, breath still uneven. You weren’t sure if what you felt was regret or satisfaction.
But whatever it was, it was yours to carry. And you would.
warnings: none, aside from the potential cringe and the relationship dynamics
author’s note: this idea sprang from a post i saw on pins (again)
uzumaki naruto
“is everything alright? you seem a bit off,” you asked him, concern evident in your voice. he had been his usual cheerful self, but when you both said your goodbyes to the people of sunagakure, his behavior had shifted dramatically. he hadn’t uttered a single word since then, and his silence was starting to worry you. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to cause this sudden change in him.
but he didn’t answer right away. instead, he folded his arms across his chest and slouched slightly, his shoulders sagging. he turned to look at you, his eyes holding is something else you couldn’t quite place. his mouth was set in a pout, lips pursed tightly, making it clear that he was upset about something. his expression was a far cry from his usual upbeat and energetic self.
“you don’t do that with me...” he mumbled under his breath, but his voice was just loud enough for you to hear.
“the... what?” you asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. you could sense the tension emanating from him as he shifted uncomfortably beside you. his eyes flitted towards you, searching for some sign that you were pretending not to understand. when he realized that your confusion was genuine, he let out a sigh and averted his gaze.
“why do you talk with him that way?”
you blinked in surprise, taken aback by his sudden question. his behavior was so unlike his usual self, and you struggled to understand the root of his discomfort. “what do you mean?” you asked, trying to grasp the meaning behind his words. his sulky demeanor was puzzling, leaving you to wonder why he was so unsettled over what seemed like a minor issue.
naruto fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with having to vocalize his romantic feelings. he toyed with the hem of his jacket, his gaze fixed on the ground. “when you talk to him,” he began hesitantly, “it’s different. you’re... softer, kinder, almost like you’re more patient with him. it feels like... like you don’t talk to me that way.”
as his words sank in, you began to understand what made him act like that. seeing him like this, open and hurt, tugged at your heart. you reached out, gently placing a reassuring hand on his arm, “naruto,” you said softly, “you mean a lot to me. i had no idea i was speaking differently to him. maybe it’s just because i’m trying to be respectful. but that doesn’t mean you’re any less important to me. you have a special place in my heart, always."
he lifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes reflecting a roller coaster of emotions—relief, doubt, and hope. a small, hesitant smile began to form on his lips, and he leaned in slightly, seeking the comfort and reassurance of your presence. “really?”
“really,” you confirmed, giving his arm a squeeze. “you’re special to me in ways you can’t even imagine.”
his expression softened further, and he let out a deep breath, as if releasing the jealousy he had been carrying. his earlier sulkiness melted away, replaced by a shy, contented smile that made your heart flutter. he leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he sought solace in your closeness.
uchiha sasuke
“i’m not upset,” he said, though his tone betrayed him completely. the words were delivered within a composed manner, but beneath the surface, there was an edge—a trace of irritation that he was trying, and failing, to mask with an air of indifference.
you watched him closely, your own expression of skepticism. raising an eyebrow, you crossed your arms over your chest in a gesture that was both defensive and doubtful. his posture was a clear signal that you weren’t buying into his attempt at denial.
“sure,” you replied, your voice thick with irony and disbelief. “you’re not upset.”
he exhaled a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, slowly turning his head away from your gaze. “i’m fine,” he insisted again, though his voice lacked the strength and certainty it usually carried, betraying his true state. the rigid tension in his shoulders and the way his stance became unnaturally tense suggested he was preparing for a confrontation he was clearly not eager to face. an air of unease enveloped him, and it was impossible for you not to be drawn to the sight of this usually composed uchiha, now so visibly disturbed. the very essence of his discomfort piqued your curiosity, making you wonder what could have unsettled him.
you tilted your head, examining him with a more scrutinizing gaze. although his expression remained a carefully maintained mask of neutrality, his eyes—dark and turbulent—spilled secrets of struggle he could scarcely conceal. despite his repeated claims of being fine, it was evident that something was troubling him. with a decision to probe a bit more, you leaned in slightly, a mischief dancing at the corners of your mouth. “you know, for someone who insists they’re not upset, you’re coming across as unusually grumpy right now.”
sasuke’s response was immediate. his eyes momentarily flashed with irritation, and he shot you a look — powerful enough to make most people instinctively retreat. “i’m not grumpy," he snapped back, but the low, grumbling quality of his voice did little to support his assertion. the sharpness and defensiveness in his tone only served the truth of what you had already surmised—something had clearly gotten under his skin, and he was making a strenuous effort to conceal his discomfort.
you let out a soft chuckle, feeling a strange sort of affection for his defensiveness. it wasn’t every day that sasuke allowed himself to lower his guard enough to show his true feelings, and it was even rarer for him to be visibly unsettled by something that seemed so minor. this glimpse into a side of him that was usually hidden from view brought a sense of pleasure to the moment. “it’s actually kind of charming,” you teased, your eyes dancing with amusement as you took in his uncharacteristic display of emotion.
sasuke’s glare grew more intense, yet you couldn’t miss the subtle blush that began to rise on his cheeks in response to your words. he swiftly turned his head, clearly attempting to conceal his embarrassment. “shut up,” he muttered, though his voice was softer than usual, lacking its typical edge. the vulnerability in his tone tugged at your heart, even as you maintained your playful teasing.
you couldn’t help but grin, feeling an irresistible urge to push his buttons a bit more. there was something endearing about seeing sasuke, who usually projected an air of composed detachment and aloofness, becoming flustered over something so seemingly insignificant. it was clear to you now that his irritation wasn’t just a reaction to your teasing but stemmed from a more personal place. perhaps he was feeling a a pang of jealousy—an emotion he rarely displayed openly. seeing him struggle to maintain his usual facade while clearly bothered by the situation made the moment all the more entertaining. “aw, come on, sasuke. don’t be like that,” you said, your tone light and playful. “it’s okay to admit that you’re jealous, you know.”
at the mention of jealousy, sasuke’s head jerked back towards you, his eyes widening in surprise and a blush crept across his cheeks. “jealous?” he said, clearly flustered by embarrassment. “what do i have to be jealous about?”
you shrugged casually, maintaining your smile as you observed him with a keen eye. “you tell me,” you replied in a calm and tone, “it seems like there’s something bothering you, or should i say, someone bothering you?” you added with a teasing edge, your gaze fixed on him, searching for any subtle hints that might reveal the true cause of his agitation.
sasuke’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and he tried to mask his embarrassment with a scowl. “i’m not jealous,” he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest in a defiant gesture. yet, his reluctance to meet your gaze betrayed him, making him appear almost like a child caught in a lie, desperately clinging to his facade.
you couldn’t help but smirk, clearly seeing through his tough exterior. “really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with a playful glint in your eye. “then why do you get all grumpy whenever i talk to someone else?” you took a step closer, closing the gap between you. the warm, charged atmosphere between you made his struggle to maintain composure all the more evident.
sasuke’s glare deepened, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that resembled uncertainty. “i don’t get grumpy,” he growled, his voice a low, petulant rumble. yet, as he spoke, you noticed the way his jaw tightened and the slight tremor in his hands as he clenched them into fists.
you snickered, thoroughly entertained by his defensiveness. “oh, you do, actually,” you countered, taking another step closer. the warmth radiating from him and the thick tension in the air made the moment feel charged. “you get all moody and irritable when i talk to other people. it’s kind of adorable.”
sasuke’s eyes widened at your comment, and for a brief moment, he seemed lost for words. “what do you mean ‘adorable’?” he snapped, his voice rising slightly in pitch.
you moved even closer, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “well, it’s cute seeing you all pouty and jealous,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him in an exaggerated manner. the playful teasing seemed to throw sasuke off balance, and he took a small step back.
sasuke’s face flushed even more as you continued to tease him. he opened his mouth to retort, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. “i’m not pouting,” he protested weakly, though the pout in his voice was undeniable. the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.
you chuckled, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. “oh, you definitely are,” you said, closing the final distance between you until you were standing right in front of him. reaching out, you gently tapped his nose with your finger, a gesture that made him flinch slightly.
for a moment, sasuke looked like he was about to argue further, but then he seemed to deflate, his shoulders slumping in defeat. his cheeks were still burning with embarrassment, but he finally relented. “fine,” he muttered, looking down at the ground to avoid your gaze. “i am jealous. okay?”
he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. when he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost hesitant. “it’s just... whenever you talk to someone else, i can’t help but feel annoyed. like they’re taking your attention away from me.” his admission was quiet and vulnerable, making your heart ache with a mixture of sympathy and affection.
sasuke’s gaze finally lifted to meet yours, and you saw the sincerity in his eyes. “i don’t want to feel like this,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “but i can’t help it. it’s like... i want you all to myself.”
nara shikamaru
shikamaru’s gaze was sharp, a steely glint in his dark eyes that pierced through the quiet hum of the room. his brow furrowed, deepening the lines on his forehead, and his lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. the weight of his scrutiny was noticable, and it felt as though the very air between you crackled with an unspoken accusation. he stood with an air of nonchalance that belied the tension simmering beneath his calm exterior, his arms crossed firmly over his chest in a stance that spoke of both confrontation and a subtle, guarded defensiveness. his fingers tapped impatiently against his biceps, a gesture that conveyed his agitation despite his otherwise relaxed posture.
“the hell was that?” he demanded, the question hung in the air. the way he pronounced the words made it clear he was not merely curious but genuinely perturbed. it was as if he had caught you in the middle of deception and now sought an explanation that you were not entirely prepared to offer. his tone had a biting edge to it, the kind that suggested he was not in the mood for excuses or evasions.
you stood there, attempting to maintain a façade of innocence, though you could feel the telltale signs of discomfort creeping into your demeanor. the corners of your mouth twitched ever so slightly, a smirk that you struggled to suppress. you knew exactly what he was referring to, the stunt you had pulled earlier—a move so calculated and audacious that it was almost as if you had choreographed it with the intention of provoking a reaction. the very thought of his jealousy bubbling beneath the surface was almost amusing, though you maintained your composure with practiced ease.
“what?” you replied, feigning ignorance with a slowness, the memory of the earlier incident was so distant that you needed to retrieve it from the recesses of your mind. the subtle arch of your eyebrows and the slight widening of your eyes were all part of the act, a display of confusion that was more theatrical than genuine.
his eyes narrowed further, and his expression hardened as he stared you down. the slight twitch in his jaw betrayed his struggle to contain his irritation, and the silence that followed was thick with the tension of unspoken words. he seemed to be grappling with his emotions—jealousy and frustration—as he waited for your response.
“the thing you did earlier,” his gaze remained fixed on you, a demand for an explanation that would either placate his concerns or further ignite his displeasure. the accusation was implicit, wrapped in the layers of his carefully controlled demeanor, and it was clear that he was waiting for you to explain mystery behind your earlier actions.
his words caught you off guard, making your heart skip a beat as if it had been yanked into a sudden stop. the intensity in his gaze revealed that he was acutely aware of the event that had taken place earlier. you knew, with a feeling, that he was referring to the kiss you had planted on choji’s cheek—a mischievous act that you and the others had planned with the intention of testing his reaction. it was a prank meant to stir up some emotions and see if shikamaru could be nudged out of his usually imperturbable demeanor. your own curiosity had driven you to participate, intrigued by the prospect of seeing the usually unflappable strategist display a hint of jealousy.
tilting your head slightly to one side, you allowed a coy smile to surface, a playful glint in your eyes that you hoped would mask your true understanding of the situation.
“what stunt? i just gave choji a friendly kiss on the cheek,” you said, the words slipping out with feigned innocence. even as you spoke, you could feel the tightrope of deception you were walking on, knowing full well the motive behind your action.
“yeah, sure,” he said, the sarcasm in his tone sharp and unmistakable. “because kissing someone on the cheek is a completely normal way to be friendly.” His voice dripped with disdain, the sarcasm was heavy, the sort that carried an implicit critique of your attempt to trivialize the situation. his eyes narrowed, a storm of emotions flickering within his gaze.
you could not help but chuckle, a sound that was part amusement, part nervousness. the realization that shikamaru was not fooled by your act was relief and further tension. his reaction was as potent as you had hoped, the jealousy you had intended to provoke now clearly visible in his demeanor. “okay, okay, you caught me,” you admitted with a playful sigh, raising your hands in a gesture of mock surrender. the smirk on your face widened as you leaned slightly forward, your shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. “it was just a prank.”
his expression softened just slightly as he rolled his eyes with exasperation. his arms, still crossed tightly over his chest, seemed to loosen a bit, though the trace of annoyance remained etched on his face. “a prank, huh?”
“yeah, a harmless one,” you replied with a playful smile dancing on your lips, trying to diffuse the tension. “sakura, ino, and i thought it’d be funny to see if we could make you jealous.”
a small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth—his gaze, however, remained locked onto you with a level of intensity that suggested he was not entirely dismissing the matter. “and was it funny?” he questioned, it was pointed, as though he was challenging you to justify the prank, to explain whether it had indeed succeeded in its aim of provoking a reaction.
you couldn’t help but tease, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “well, it’s a bit entertaining seeing you get all worked up,” you admitted with a grin, “but i didn’t mean to make you feel anything other than jealousy, and i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you intentionally.” the reassurance came with a warm tone, you wanted to ensure that despite the prank’s impact, your intentions had never been to cause genuine harm or distress.
“not like it meant anything?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, “you’re my girlfriend. i don’t appreciate other guys getting close to you like that, even if they’re just friends.” the words came out more forcefully than he probably intended.
you raised an eyebrow at his overt display of jealousy, a small, secretive thrill running through you. the fact that your plan had worked was evident in his reaction, and you couldn’t help but take a bit of pleasure in seeing him so visibly affected. “is someone getting a little possessive?” you teased, stepping closer to him with a confident stride. you traced a finger along the collar of his shirt.
his eyes narrowed further at your touch, though a subtle hint of a blush began to creep up his cheeks. he seemed to be fighting a smile, the struggle apparent in the tight line of his lips and the faint flush of color on his face. “i’m just saying, you don’t see me going off and kissing any girls on the cheek, do you?” he retorted, his voice lowering slightly as if he were trying to keep his irritation in check.
you laughed, thoroughly enjoying the playful exchange. “well, maybe you should. it’s not like i would get jealous or anything,”
he rolled his eyes, clearly not buying into your facade. “oh, please. you’d be mad as hell if i went around kissing other girls.”
gaara
gaara had always considered himself immune to jealousy or the idea of love itself, believing that such emotions were beyond his reach. that was, until you entered his life, almost as if scripted by fate. your presence stirred feelings within him that he had long thought inaccessible. now, he found himself grappling with an unsettling jealousy when he witnessed you and his brother, kankuro, engaging in playful banter right before him.
he made a conscious effort to disregard the lively interactions between you and kankuro, attempting to ignore the way you both teased each other so effortlessly. yet, despite his best efforts, he could not suppress the rising tide of jealousy and possessiveness coursing through him. the sight of you laughing and enjoying yourself in kankuro’s company felt like a painful irritant, no matter how hard he tried to remain indifferent. his fists tightened into clenched knots as he observed you from the periphery of his vision.
as kankuro’s teasing continued, gaara's frustration only intensified. he attempted to dismiss his growing irritation, but the heat in his cheeks and the tension in his jaw betrayed his internal struggle. eventually, gaara could no longer tolerate the scene unfolding beside him. the casual, affectionate banter between you and kankuro became unbearable, prompting him to rise from his seat, unable to mask his growing annoyance any longer.
“kankuro, knock it off,” he snapped, his voice taut with irritation.
the lively, carefree banter between you and kankuro came to an abrupt halt, and the room fell into a heavy silence. the air was thick with the sudden tension that gaara’s commanding tone had injected. kankuro’s smirk faltered for a split second as he turned his attention to his brother, his expression shifting to one of feigned innocence.
“oh, come on, bro. we’re just having a little fun,” kankuro said, his voice oozing with casual nonchalance.
you looked up at gaara, your heart thudding in your chest. his reaction was intense, a side of him you hadn’t seen before. his irritation was noticable, and it was evident that he was struggling to mask the emotions simmering beneath the surface.
gaara’s jaw tightened, his features hardening as he fixed a steely gaze on kankuro. “cut it out, kankuro. you’re being annoying,” he said, voice devoid of warmth and edged with frustration. the sharpness in his tone cut through the room, making it clear that he was no longer in the mood for light-hearted banter.
kankuro raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face as he leaned back in his seat with exaggerated nonchalance. “oh, am i annoying you, lil bro? it seems like someone’s feeling a bit jealous…”
gaara’s irritation flared, his fists clenching into tight, white-knuckled balls. he turned to face kankuro fully, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “i’m not jealous,” he asserted, though the strained quality of his voice betrayed the falsehood in his declaration.
kankuro’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on his brother. “oh really? then why are you so worked up? you’re practically vibrating with anger.”
his face flushed with ffrustration and embarrassment. he knew kankuro’s words were striking close to the truth, but admitting it felt like a defeat he wasn’t willing to accept. “that’s beside the point!” he snapped, his voice rising in volume. “just stop being such an idiot and leave us alone.”
kankuro leaned back even further, crossing his arms and adopting an exaggeratedly thoughtful pose. “‘us? so it’s ‘us’ now?” he noticed the shift in your expression, the slight frown on your lips, and his grin grew wider, clearly reveling in the situation.
sensing that the situation was escalating further, kankuro decided to heed gaara’s command. “alright, alright, i get it,” he said, raising his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. “my bro’s here is getting a bit too worked up for my taste. i know when i’m not wanted.” with a cheeky grin and a playful wink aimed directly at you, he made his exit, the door closing behind him with a soft click that seemed to echo in the now quiet room.
with kankuro gone, the atmosphere in the room felt almost eerily still. the laughter and playful energy that had filled the space were replaced by a heavy, uncomfortable silence. gaara’s gaze remained fixed on the empty space where kankuro had been, his jaw still clenched tightly.
after a tense moment of silence, gaara finally turned to face you. “sorry about that,” he muttered, his voice softer than before. he seemed unsure of how to handle the sudden shift in the dynamic between you two.
you took a step closer, your eyes filled with concern. you reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm, your touch tender and soothing. “it’s okay, gaara,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth meant to reassure him. “i didn’t realize it would bother you so much.”
gaara shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, his eyes darting back to you. “i didn’t mean to overreact,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a quieter, more vulnerable tone. “it’s just… i don’t like seeing you so close to someone else. it makes me feel… unsettled.”
a small, understanding smile touched your lips as you moved even closer, your hand gently cupping his cheek. “gaara, you don’t have to be jealous. you know i care about you deeply,”
his eyes softened at your reassurance, the tension in his posture easing slightly. “i know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just hard for me sometimes. i haven’t felt like this before, and it’s… new.”
you nodded, the vulnerability in his confession resonating deeply with you. “it’s new for me too,” you admitted, your thumb gently brushing against his cheek. “but i want you to know that you’re the one i choose. you’re important to me, and that won’t change.”
Naruto characters n how they show their devotion to you.
tw Yandere-ish <3
include: sasuke, naruto, itachi, kakashi, gaara,
Uchiha Sasuke
- unspoken, inescapable devotion
Sasuke does not say it aloud. He does not need to. The depth of his devotion is written in the way his gaze lingers half a second longer than it should, in the way his presence shifts almost imperceptibly to stand closer to you, in the way your name forms in his mind before he can think of anything else.
He does not understand how it happened—how you managed to carve a place for yourself within him so effortlessly. But now that you are there, he cannot dislodge you. It frustrates him, this quiet tether, this unshakable attachment that follows him even into battle, even into his darkest thoughts. You have become a constant, a presence woven into his every breath.
He is not soft, nor does he seek to smother you with affection. But if you were to fall, he would catch you before you even realized you were slipping. If you were to call for him, he would be there before the sound had finished leaving your lips. And if you were ever to leave, you would take something from him that he would never be able to replace.
He does not say it. But you must know.
Uzumaki Naruto
- open, unbreakable devotion
Naruto does not love in halves. He does not know how. When he cares for someone, it is with his entire being, without hesitation, without restraint. You are no exception.
His devotion is in the way he looks for you first in a crowded room, in the way he saves you the last bite of his favorite food, in the way your happiness has become as important to him as his own. He does not try to hide it—why would he? He wants you to know. Wants you to understand that no matter where you go, no matter what happens, he is there. Always.
There is no condition to it. No expectation of anything in return. He simply is, unwavering in the way he chooses you, again and again, without question. He will stand beside you for as long as you allow him to, and even if the world were to collapse, even if you pushed him away, he would wait. Because he is yours, and there is nothing in this life or the next that could change that.
Uchiha Itachi
- quiet, thoughtful devotion
Itachi is deliberate in all things, and his devotion to you is no different. He does not need grand gestures, nor does he need to speak of it—his care is in the details, in the things he does without needing to be asked.
It is in the way he ensures you never walk on the outer edge of a path. In the way he subtly shifts conversations away from topics he knows you dislike. In the way he listens—not just to your words, but to what you don’t say, to the emotions behind them, to the truths you think you’ve hidden.
He is not possessive, nor does he demand space in your life. But he is there, always. A steady, unwavering presence that remains even when the rest of the world feels uncertain. And if you were to turn to him, to ask for anything, he would give it without hesitation. Not because he must, but because it is you. And there is nothing he would not do for you.
Hatake Kakashi
- reluctant, unshakable devotion
Kakashi does not want to feel this way. He does not want to care for someone so deeply, to tether himself to something fragile and fleeting. But it is already too late.
You are in his thoughts without invitation, lingering in the quiet spaces of his mind, creeping into moments where he least expects you. He catches himself looking for you before he even realizes he is doing it. He tells himself it is habit, something simple, something meaningless. But it is not. It is something far heavier.
He will never say it, never admit how much space you have taken within him. But his actions betray him. He will place himself between you and harm before you even notice the threat. He will remember things you mentioned only in passing, bringing them up months later as if they were never forgotten. He will ensure you are safe, cared for, protected, even if it costs him everything.
It is not something he will ever ask you to see. But it is there, in every quiet act, in every unspoken promise. And whether you know it or not, he will always choose you.
Gaara
- deep, instinctive devotion
Gaara does not have the words for it. This feeling. This need to have you near, to know that you are safe, to ensure that nothing in this world can ever take you from him.
It is not desperation, nor is it obsession. It is simply fact, as undeniable as the sand beneath his feet. He exists, and you exist, and that is all that has ever mattered.
His devotion is not something he voices. He does not shower you with words of affection, does not seek to make himself known in loud declarations. But he is there. A constant, unshakable presence. If you are tired, he will notice before you do. If you are troubled, he will not ask, but he will stay. If you are in danger, there will be no hesitation, no thought—only action.
You are the only softness he allows himself, the only warmth he has ever known. And if you were ever to leave, if you were ever to slip from his grasp, he is not sure he would know how to exist in the empty space you left behind.
In a modern AU, how would the Uchihas react to "no lube, no protection, all night all day" text message from their s/o??
I love such unhinged requests for these men🌸😭 Cutie Anon keep them coming. I had too much fun writing this!
Indra Ōtsutsuki
At first, he stares at the screen with that slow, dangerous smirk the one that promises trouble. He calls you immediately, voice low and commanding:
“Repeat that to me. I want to hear you say it.”
He clears his evening schedule within minutes. Expect him at your door, suit still on, but the tie already loosened. He doesn’t just show up he prepares.
Madara Uchiha
He raises a brow, scoffs once, then rereads it three times because surely his partner didn’t just challenge him of all people.
“All night and all day? You’re confident. Don’t beg for a break later.”
He shows up with the most annoyingly smug attitude, only fueled by the fact that you initiated it. He treats it like a competition he refuses to lose.
Shisui Uchiha
Shisui chokes on his water, stares at the text with wide eyes, blush creeping up his neck.
“I– wow, okay, so we’re doing that today?”
He sends five flirty voice notes in a row, all playful threats, then teleports (Shunshin) to your place faster than GPS could load. He’ll joke, tease, and flirt the entire way but do not underestimate him.
Izuna Uchiha
He freezes. Completely. You’ve just short–circuited his brain.
He types:
“…Right now??”
Deletes it.
Types:
“Are you sure?”
Deletes it again.
Finally sends:
“On my way.”
He arrives nervous but determined to prove himself. And once the switch flips? Good luck walking the next day.
Obito Uchiha
Obito drops his phone on his face. He wasn’t emotionally prepared.
He sends three emojis before finding words: 😳🔥🏃♂️
Then:
“Don’t play with me like that, I’m clocking out early.”
He literally makes up an excuse at work and leaves. He’s flustered, but the moment he arrives, the softness is gone, he shows he’s been waiting for you to ask.
Sasuke Uchiha
He acts unfazed… on the outside.
Inside? System malfunction.
He responds with a single dry text:
“Hn. Be ready.”
Then throws his phone onto the bed, runs a hand through his hair, and actually starts mentally preparing like he’s going into battle. He doesn’t brag, he lets actions speak.
Itachi Uchiha
He sets his phone down slowly, exhales, and smiles in that calm, devastating way.
He calls you, voice soft but with a sinful edge:
“You must really want me tonight.”
He doesn’t rush. He makes you wait in anticipation because he wants the moment to be unforgettable. When he arrives, everything is intentional, slow at first, then absolutely overwhelming when he decides you’re ready.
naruto, sasuke, shikamaru, kiba, shino, neji, iruka & kakashi
a/n: sooo,, i SHOUld be working on my uni essays and on the bf!neji texts BUT this had been sitting in my notes app for a while so i decided to post it ;D (the neji texts will come soon i promise). some are longer, some are shorter for which i apologise,,,,,, please ignore typos, i can't spell & enjoy MWUAH
likes & reblogs appreciated <3
warnings: some NSFW parts! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! :) also not proofread as usual
masterlist
♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢
✿oh my baby boy
❀first off: angel. 100%.
✿because u are his angel u feel me
❀he can't go a day without telling u
✿then also just the basic baby
❀but mostly when he wants something from u or he's apologising for dumb stuff he's done
✿puppy eyes and all
❀and also during sexy time
✿it's his most used name for u there
✿fight me on this
❀big on his own self made nicknames for u
✿for instance: u fell down the stairs once?
❀"hey, stairs, how you doin'"
✿and just silly ones like: boo, pookie, apple of my eye
❀he's weird like that c'mon we been knew
♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢
✿now this guy is a wild card
❀he'd prefer ur name through & through
✿but he'd slip in a casual babe sometimes which makes ur knees weak obviously
❀because he barely ever calls u that
✿if ur married he'd only call you his wife
❀doesn't even let you answer questions on your own sometimes just so he can hit them with
❀"well, MY WIFE, thinks you suck ass, so.."
✿during sex he can be quiet mean
❀I DONT THINK in the derogatory way but more in a teasing way
✿"c'mon, sweetheart, look at me."
❀when ur just about to black out??
✿but like i said
❀not big on pet names but he'll use them more often if he knows u enjoy it <3
♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢
✿pretty
❀just pretty bro.
✿not ALL THE TIME, especially not in public as i don't think he's big on PDA
❀but in the comfort of ur own 4 walls? definitely
✿now don't HATE ME for this but,,,
❀woman. and brat.
✿but only in petty situations, like when ur scolding his lazy ass and he hits u with a "go easy on me, woman, i just woke up."
❀or u've been going on his nerves while he's working
✿,,i'm busy, brat.''
❀in bed tho???
✿love or doll
❀i'm almost CERTAIN.
✿like,, can u imagine?? in his dumb fucking charming voice ???
❀PFFF i'm on my knees
♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢
✿now this fucker
❀teasing names through & through
✿ur shorter than him?
❀"hey, shortie, need help?"
✿ur taller than him?
❀"hey, giant, how's the weather up there?"
✿he's a DICK ok (affectionately ofc)
❀but he can be sweet too i promise
✿he's having fun with calling u bunny during sex or simply baby
❀also ???? "okay, boss." when he's been annoying u all day and u finally snap at him?
✿he's a menace with nicknames i'm telling u
♢ꜱʜɪɴᴏ ᴀʙᴜʀᴀᴍᴇ♢
✿you probably guessed it and bully me if you'd like but,,,
❀bug or lovebug
✿come oooon he loves his bugs AND he loves you?? it fits PERFECTLY
❀not one to do it infront of other people either but in your private space he just wouldn't stop calling you one of these
✿i also see him using the regular honey but the abbreviation so hun because it's short and sweet and he doesn't like those long ass names
❀apologies if ur name is long LMAO mine is too tho
✿takes the hun into the bedroom but prefers a gentle love while having sex
❀shino's not a sweet talker in my mind, but the pet names make up for it FOSHOU
✿ALSO big brain idea i just had:
❀i think shino can't fully express his emotions verbally so before going on missions he definitely writes u letters and that's where he's blooming
✿''u keep me going everyday, sunshine.''
❀and it doesn't even matter if you have a bubbly personality or not
✿UGH lovesick fr
♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢
❀this pretty princess doesn't even know ur name when ur alone with him
✿ESPECIALLY when ur texting
❀sweetheart, love & darling
✿he'd make u fall in love over again whenever he calls u one of those i'm just saying
❀because he's always so sincere when he's talking to u it drives me crazy just thinking about it
✿during sexy time too, he would NEVER
❀& i will die on this hill
✿NEVER use any degrading names for u
❀ur his baby don't make him do that
✿even when ur fighting, he'd always address u in such a kind way i'm actually going insane
❀"have you had dinner yet, dear?"
✿ sedate me pls
♢ɪʀᴜᴋᴀ ᴜᴍɪɴᴏ♢
✿AAA this guy
❀soo,, like father like son,,, angel
✿u can't change my mind
❀being the kind hearted person he is, it just fits u can't tell me off
✿but i will also say he'd use some funny ones in private because we all know he's just a silly lil guy deep inside
❀i'm thinking toots & peach
✿especially when greeting u !! like ''ey, toots, how's it going?''
❀during sex he will be quiet awkward at the start of ur relationship, settling in angel as he's most familiar with it at first
✿but after some time he'd pull a babydoll or gorgeous on u
❀i mean,,, i'd cry but idk about y'all
✿oVERALL he loves using pet names and wouldn't be opossed to u calling him some sweet ones as well <3
❀call him handsome and he'll go through the roof
♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢
✿AHEM
❀so this man,,
✿at the start of ur relationship he's such a shy lil bean so he'll only use your first name
❀but once he's been with you long enough he gets so so comfortable
✿starts of with the regular baby because u are his baby aight.
❀his most frequently used one too i'd say
✿but then he'd go like
❀"hey, beautiful." "y'alright, sweetheart?"
✿and idk about u but i'd faint
❀HE KNOWS ABOUT HIS AFFECT ON U TOO
✿uses it against u during sex SO OFTEN
❀grunting a "there y'go, darling." into your ear with a sly smirk on his lips
✿i'm (s)creaming
❀but he's a very private person so don't expect too much of that in public !!
✿a side from a "yes, ma'am" when u tell him not to die on a mission <3
a/n: i hope this doesn't SUCK ahemm,,, and i'll see you beans next time bye bye x
