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HI CUTIES WORKS ARE IN PROGRESS !! i miss yall you will see me soon :3 school is over for now and my bum ex longer plagues me i have so much time.

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guess who got broken up with. Is return imminent? We will see.

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ahhhahrhehtje imm ogoimgg crazyyy Obito save me. Everything sucks.

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first time deleting a draft id been working on every night in bed for the past few nights. dpmo. AND THE GRAPHIC FOR IT TOO just end me…

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Your recent Neji fic is amazing! Could you write something along the lines of aftercare with Neji or just fluff in general. Thank you💖

and baby i just melt away ʚɞ neji hyuga

wc: 1.0k words

warning(s): none!

author's note: aww tysm anon!! i'm glad you enjoyed it. i really leaned in on the fluff and i ended up forgetting about the aftercare lol my bad. really sorry this took so long, i've been sick the past few days. i hope you enjoy🩵

“you don’t have to do this.”

neji leans into your touch—almost imperceptibly so—as you take a seat at the bed’s edge. his usually steadfast demeanor gives way to fatigue, his voice tinged with weariness. after leading a team of shinobi through a grueling two-week mission, you can sense that he’s more inclined to follow your lead for once. and you intend to stretch this fleeting opportunity into a comforting reprieve.

“it’s okay,” you respond without hesitation, planting a kiss on his temple. “let me take care of you.”

with delicate precision, your fingers work through his hair, separating it into neat sections. the smooth comb glides through the soft strands, untangling the knots that have accumulated. you all but point out how his hair gets tangled so easily, tease him for the long, careful hours he spends brushing it.

but as you watch him sink deeper into relaxation, his features softening, your chest fills with a warm fondness that spreads to the rest of your body. his eyes flutter closed. the tension in his shoulders gradually dissipates, and a soft sigh of contentment escapes his lips, breaking the comfortable silence.

and gods, this may be the sweetest thing you’ll have the privilege of seeing.

as the sun sets, a vibrant mix of red and orange hues paints the sky, with sunlight streaming through the window and casting shadows. you gently place the comb down and run your fingers through his hair; his spine tingles. moving down, your hands apply firm, but gentle pressure to his temples, rubbing steady circles. after such extensive use of his byakugan, his head must be aching.

“i missed you,” you breathe, puckered lips touching the top of his head. pausing in your massage, you take his hair tie and put his hair back into its usual low ponytail before continuing. a glinting mirth dances in your eyes when he fully melts into your touch, a soft moan slipping from his lips.

neji hums in response, more intent on focusing on the way your fingers eliminate the pulsing throb that has been wracking his head ever since he returned home. the intimacy makes him feel like he’s floating, an all-encompassing peace that settles deep into his bones, a deep-seated calm that he’s always sought.

it’s something so simple, and yet it makes his heart race in his chest. perhaps it’s the knowledge that you love him so much you would dote on him in such a way. or maybe it’s the way you make him feel so vulnerable with just your touch and a few whispered words. but regardless, it’s an intoxicating combination of love and affection that makes him want to repay you and make you feel the same heady mix that makes his head spin.

the faint remnants of incense fill the air and the sun soon gives way to the moon. turning to face you, neji moves to sit next to you, one hand cradling your cheek and the other one holding your waist. without a word, he places a tentative kiss on the center of your forehead, trying to let it speak to the unspoken words that always sit at the tip of his tongue.

to the fact that you have carved a place deep into his heart.

emboldened by the responding hum from you, his lips trail down to the tip of your nose, gentle like the slap of a butterfly’s wings. you look at him through half-lidded eyes, anticipation thrumming through your veins, your fingers gripping the fabric of his loose shirt. his forehead rests on yours, the scant distance between you making you acutely aware of his breath that tickles the top of your lips. his gaze carries a quiet intensity as he takes you in and you find yourself falling deep into his stormy, iridescent gaze.

only neji can draw out such sparks from you. only he can make you so weak from a single look.

and when you close the distance, your eyes finally flutter closed and your skin tingles with a want that only grows with each press of his mouth. his lips feel soft, almost pillowy against your own. a faint moan escapes as bittersweet notes of green tea flood your senses when your tongues touch.

what was once a sweet kiss quickly spirals into one of fervency. the hand that’s on your cheek moves to your hair, fingers tangling within the strands and pulling you in closer. as if he didn’t want any space to come between you. neither of you stays separated for long, quickly being drawn back to his lips.

again. and again. and again.

it’s an impassioned push and pull, one that makes you crave more of him. your arms wrap around his neck as you push him onto the bed, noses bumping and teeth clicking as you settle on top of him. your fingers lightly tugging on his hair pulled a light groan from his lips; it ignited every nerve ending, making you want nothing more than to coax more of those sweet sounds from him.

more. the word echoes in your head like a chant, growing ever louder with every lip-flex and muffled moan from both of you.

but as quickly as it comes, the moment cools. with great reluctance, neji pulls away, cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling with each pant. usually sharp and almost all-seeing, his eyes are unfocused, staring past you as he regains his composure. as you lay your head on the crook of his neck, you allow the calm to wash over you like a wave and relish in the warmth of his body beneath you.

neji pulls you down so that you’re laying on your side, now face-to-face. his fingers brush away the stray tendrils of hair away from your face, a tender smile curving at the corners of his kiss-swollen lips.

“i love you,” he says after minutes of blissful stillness. taking hold of your hand, he brings it to rest on his heart, letting you feel the effect you have on him.

a lazy grin brightens your features. you gently squeeze your intertwined hands. “love you too.”

the rhythmic beat of neji’s heart against your palm has you closing your eyes and the song of the wind chimes in the distance lulls you into a peaceful sleep.

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man im so emo and i cant even write to vent about it because it’s 7 am and i have to be up soon.

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nobody, not even the rain. ♡ྀི variety.

summary: helping your lover through a panic attack

feat. obito uchiha, kakashi hatake (art cred)

cw: jonin!obito, panic attack description, blood, reader accidentally nicks themself, ptsd, my sweet traumatized boys... i just want them to CRY. not proofread im just emo and need to get this out

obito uchiha

obito rouses from his sleep, wincing at the agony starting to seep through his veins like poison replacing blood. the startup is slow, but the realization of what’s happening snaps obito completely out of his groggy state.

he hates this. he hates being so powerless as the hand of panic grasps firmly at his heart. he wants to roll his eyes and scoff, he knows he’s fine- but he’s not going to be once his chest starts to hurt and breaths start to burn. once white-hot pain sears the entirety of his right side. once images flash in his eyes against his consent. it’s so frustrating not being okay.

your warmth makes itself known as you stir in response to his rousing and he apologizes in his head for waking you- verbally saying it is unfortunately not an option with how taut his jaw and throat are. he can’t move to grasp for you and ground himself at all. you’re right next to him, your back to his right, and somehow he’s still alone in this- and there’s that image of his friend going cold in his arms. alone as he held her body.

out comes the first wheeze, a full body tremble following it. it’s getting bad. fast.

“‘bito?” you rasp, sleep coating your voice. you’d fallen asleep in his embrace with his chest against your back, but his heat is missing now and you’re needy for it back. you push yourself up to lay on your other side, assuming he’d just shifted and ended up rolling over in his sleep. out comes a second wheeze and your eyes finally open, catching his rigid body- frozen in place and slightly quivering like you’d just found him beneath the snow.

oh, your obito. your heart shatters at the sight. your kind worried eyes find his, one shut and the other staring into nothing. you know what this is.

“obito, honey.” you hum, trying to bury the shaky concern that still manages to make it’s way through your words. “breathe.” your free palm settles on his chest, the other propping yourself up as you sit mermaid style beside him. another wheeze and a shudder, this time followed by a weak whimper as he finds your tender gaze and locks his eye with yours. “there you are. just breathe, my love.” your face softens, masking how sick you are with worry. “need you to breathe.”

it’s hard. it’s so hard. he swallows and chokes on nothing before he takes in a gasp of air and sobs it out. it’s so hard, but he’s doing it for you. “oh good job angel, that’s my boy. so proud of you.” you release the breath you had been (accidentally) holding with him, sighing in relief as you praise him and dip to give him a small kiss on his forehead. your hand soothes the entirety of his chest, side to side as you try to ground him with the stimulation. he’s breathing- like metal has pierced his lungs and blood begins to drown him from the inside- but breathing, nonetheless.

you lift yourself to kneel, freeing your other hand so you can wipe the tears building up before they get the chance to spill while still providing that gentle stimulation. it breaks your heart, seeing your strong, cheerful boy fight something so overwhelming. all you can do is hum praises and assurances and offer delicate touches like you’re trying to coax out a wounded puppy.

his head shakily leans into your touch, still holding your gaze as his eyebrows furrow into a sorrowful expression. his mouth moved to try and choke something out, but all that comes is a sob that wracked his entire body. he lifts his arms, heavy as water, and weakly grasps at the sleeves and fabric of your nightgown.

"hey, you're okay. i got you, sweetheart. you got me."

it’s awkward, but you manage to position yourself and lean down to pull him into an embrace, snaking your arms beneath his upper back and letting him squeeze you closer to him.

his cries are uneven, mixing with periods of hyperventilating and repeated sobs and sniffles, apologies, and unintelligible babbles eventually making their way into the mix.

"i-i'm- fuck- s-sorry," he chokes through tears and strained breaths, fingers knitting into the fabric of your back and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. it was terrifying, being so far away from you. even when you were right there.

"you're okay, obito. don't be sorry, sweet boy. you're okay." you hum, swallowing your own tears down. you wanna say sorry. you want to take all his pain away. you want to take all of his burdens on yourself.

"s-s-sorry- i'm s-s-so- hahh- sorry-" he weeps between convulsive gasps, and you're not sure if he's apologizing to you or just sorry. guilt, shame, and regret coiled around his heart like razorwire and tightened- he's yet to exit the woods of this episode.

slowly, you lift him up, whispering encouragements so this new position can hopefully ease the anguish weighing him down. he's upright now, still in your arms. both of your palms settle upon his face, pads wiping tears away as you hold his head- so heavy with grief. his hands are settled around your hips and thighs as you sit crossed between his legs, loosely squeezing and soothing his own pads on the fabric barring him from your skin. the two of you settled into a slow sway from side to side as you hummed a tune, embracing him and soothing your hands up and down his back as he sniffled into your shoulder.

you were so understanding, so loving, part of him wanted to reject it. he would if it were anyone other than you. you made it too hard. you made it too difficult to reject the fact that he is cherished.

"m'sorry." he hums, moving his hands to wrap around the small of your back. "hush, angel. you're okay." you whispered, still gently swaying with him. "thank you. i love you." the phrase slipped from his lips so naturally. he sounded wounded. he sounded like a kid. it was so sweet, so tender, so vulnerable.

"i love you too, obito. always."

kakashi hatake

kakashi ignores the feeling creeping up his limbs like it’ll go away. like it won’t sense the fear in his heart as his eyes blur and static fills his ears. like the panic isn’t a predator, lurking until he least expects it. the panic won’t smell his anxiety worsening as the first signs hit him.

you’d cut yourself quite badly while preparing dinner, misjudging where your fingers were before you pushed with all your might through a vegetable.

you were a medical ninja, you saw blood all the time, but something about it being your own- it always got you. like a nurse with a fear of needles or a surgeon with a fear of knives. your entire body was hot and prickly and you could only call to kakashi once before you fell to your knees, breathing as stable as you could. how embarrassing, you thought.

kakashi was quick to your side, bringing you back to reality and hoisting you up to wash the blood off so you could heal yourself. you were being a bit of a baby, you admit, at some point, the real weakness in your knees mixed with the exaggerated bat of your eyelashes as you asked him to ‘hold me uppp’.

it was a quick fix, but it was deep enough to scar and leave you a bit woozy for the rest of the night. you parted from kakashi to discard the bloodied vegetables and find something else to fix up for the two of you. kakashi was left in front of the running water of the sink, staring at his blood-stained hands.

fog starts to cloud around him and he’s cursing under his breath, knitting his eyes together and bracing like it’ll pass over him. why now? so stupid. blood on his hands, the sound of water, and the now absence of your presence. all keys to the lock that hid his vulnerabilities, now open as it’s scent trail is being tracked by his past.

blood is in the water and sharks of guilt and fear are hot on kakashi’s tail. there is no hiding, no matter how still and silent he is.

“‘kashi?” you hum after the first call of his name went unanswered. you pushed the fridge doors closed and looked back at the sink on the other side of the kitchen island, his back still facing yours and water still running. no answer, again.

“kakashiii, you there?” your eyes tracked his still figure as you rounded the island, slowing the closer you got to him. he is really still. another call, and another. you’re a foot to his side and he’s still yet to even move his eyes towards you.

you scan his rigid figure, noticing how tight his eyes are shut and the quickening of his breath. “kakashi, talk to me.” you realize what’s going on, shutting the water off. his hands were long clean, but they still shook beneath the water like they were stained with your blood.

his breathing becomes audible as it turns to panting and mixes with the crackle of his vocal cords. his frame stays stable as his arms tremble like twigs, eyes opening and darting to both of his palms- back and forth.

“kakashi.” you call, grasping his wrists and turning him to face you. “kakashi, baby, breathe.”

he doesn’t realize what’s happening until he’s on the floor with you and his own cry- the agonized groan that crawls it’s way out of his throat- is bringing him back to reality. his hands are in yours and you’re both on your knees in front of the other.

the freeze response has passed and now he’s stuck between fight and flight- but as emotions come crashing down on him like waves without a break between, all he can choose is give up.

the fragile thread holding him together has snapped and he’s sobbing, leaning into you as you pull him into an embrace. his arms are heavy hanging over his legs like sandbags, too weak to reciprocate. the nuzzle into your neck is symbolic of a grasp to keep you to him, and you hear it loud and clear.

“you’re okay, kakashi. you’re okay.”

“n-not- fuck- bad.”

“i know, angel. i’m so sorry. you’re gonna be okay, i'm right here with you, kakashi.”

your heart pangs at his rejection of your comfort. the way he hiccups his words out between gasps, the admission that this is a bad one.

kakashi had panic attacks around you before, but it was only ever dissociation coupled with hyperventilating, never outright sobbing.

something about it being your real blood and that situation flashing in his mind at the same time- it was just too much. he promised your closest friends and family that he’d protect you- what if- fuck.

he's completely in his own mind. this isn't real, he knows that. he knows you're right here, holding him, but he can't control it. he can't control the tears spilling and can't control the pace at which he breathes- and it's only making him panic more.

what if this was real? what if you were wounded and he had to deal with your blood on his hands? what if you were gone? and it happened under his watch? would he react this same way? would he freeze and fail? more voices join the already peaking chorus and he's never felt more pathetic.

one of your hands settles in his hair and slightly scratch in an attempt to bring him back to you, soft whispers and hums of reassurance still spilling from you as you gently squeeze and run your nails over the exposed skin of his arms and nape of his neck. for the most part it's just heaving and weak whimpers, but every time a choked cry wrestles its way out of his chest you coo and offer a chaste kiss to his shoulder, cheek, or scalp. "i know, honey. it's okay, it'll be okay, just breathe with me."

it's heartbreaking, such a reserved man so broken before you. this is him.

his breathing evens out with yours after you coach him through it, and finally, his hands are able to move and grasp at the thighs they were resting on. "there you are, my sweet boy." you sigh, cupping his cheek to pull into a kiss and create space between the two of you so you can get a good look at his face. his eyes are raw, eyebags more pronounced and pigmented than usual, but they still open and look up at you with that same loving- yet so frail- gaze.

you can't help the smile that graces your face- can't help the sadness in it. "hi, sweetheart." you hum, soothing your thumbs over his tired eyes and flushed cheeks.

he looks scared. eyes darting around, still looking into yours, just trembling. "you're okay, baby. promise. i'm right here. just stay with me."

the two of you sync, taking ten-second long breaths you led him through. he's tired, you can tell. still, he forces his arms to rise and embraces you this time.

relief washes over you as his large frame fully takes you in, a small giggle coming from you as your hands settle on the small of his back.

"thank you." he murmurs into your shoulder, taking another deep breath. you smile. "don't thank me."

"still gonna." he huskily chuckles, pressing a small kiss atop your shoulder. "don't like doing this alone. you..." he breathes again, trying to regain some composure as his voice starts to tremble, "you make it easier. don't know what i'd do without you."

he can't see the ways your eyes gloss at his shaky confession, but he can feel the way your grip tightens and the sniffle that echoes in the silence.

"i'll always be here, kakashi. promise."

kakashi's never been good at saying 'i love you'. it always got stuck behind his teeth, some mental block barring him from reciprocating the words. very rarely would he say it first, so the hushed whisper of, "i love you," into your neck means the most to you.

"i love you too." "more than anything."

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sry if this is uncomfy but would u ever write for trans reader or trans chara? love your work btw <3

omg nooo not uncomfy at all!! i actually do have a few trans chara hcs and sometimes do wanna write for maybe ftm reader.. Since idk. Not to have another gender crisis but i mayhe sort of identify with them in some way. like yes i crave being a boyActually. But. nevermind. No crisis tonight.:3

ANYWHO id totally write for honestly ftm/mtf chara or reader. only thing is iwsort of like … woild stick with descriptive words like cunt and cock respectively so idk if that’s a no-no but Idk. LOL maybe id need some pointers but it is 100% on the table

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cw: sub!kakashi, femdom!reader (reader is a cloud ninja and somewhat equal to kakashi's strength), p in v, cowgirl, accidental half-creampie, implied cum eating, not proofread (probably terrible)

sub!kakashi who’s only sexual encounters consist of half-assed one night stands that leave the girl asleep and him unsatisfied- a feeling of emptiness plaguing him the entirety of the night. sub!kakashi who craves being manhandled and fucked rather than having a pretty thing beg for him to hold her down and use her. sub!kakashi who just wants to be a boytoy. sub!kakashi who's been palming himself thinking about the cloud ninja he had been sparring with- her sweet yet aloof attitude, flirty wits, and strength. sub!kakashi who's spilling thinking the look she had on her face after knocking him flat on his back. the way her pupils were blown as she straddled his waist and held the kunai to his throat.

sub!kakashi who’s caught off guard by you murmuring orders like nothing during your first time together. ‘put your arms up’ you’d say in a husky whisper, his body reacting quicker than his brain is. obeying your every command. he’s only known you for a week but he’d do anything for you so long as you asked him in that sultry voice of yours.

you lead him like a dog on a leash, stripping him and dancing your body against his. he doesn’t fight any of your advances, in fact craves more- silent impatient whines mouthed out each time you exert any sort of caution before you make another move.

“more, please.” he huffs. he’s so pretty, desperation decorating his pink-dusted face. sweat beginning to bead and his jaw going increasingly slack- tongue peeking started to spill over his bottom teeth.

such an aloof and confident man cracking beneath you. pitiful is the only word to truly describe the sight.

his body is unreasonably hot. the cold air against his full bobbing cock brings him back to reality for a moment- lost in the picturesque scene of you slipping your panties off each leg just to be dunked back into that lust-drunk state. you’re paying no mind to him, but the firm hand placed upon his chest you’re using to hold yourself up on is an order that he is to stay here, right beneath you.

each touch and word shows your intent. the intent to control- a gentle, considerate, slow control. both of your hands find his pecs as you brace yourself over him, eyes meeting his and softening upwards in a silent, sweet question. no matter how many times kakashi eagerly nodded and hummed in approval, you kept making sure this was a step he wanted to take before you tugged his figurative leash forward. that control beneath all the gentle nudges and whispered commands, that's what got him seeing stars.

“what do you want?” you hummed, tilting your head. your voice was so sweet, like your heat wasn’t inches away from the bell end of his cock. “you.” is all he can say, hands sliding up your forearms and settling back down around your wrists. “me?” your syrupy voice mixed with a savory, dark tone. “how do you want me, kakashi?” the question was stupid, one might think. you were a moment away from taking him if you just sat, but you wanted to hear him say it.

“i… want to feel you. i want…” he pondered. he wanted to fuck you- to be enveloped by your wet heat- but that’s not right.

“want you to fuck me.”

with a smile and whispered praise, your folds part around his tip and you’re swiftly settling around his cock. it’s jarring- the pace at which you take him is stark compared to how slow and teasing you were before. in just a few seconds you're bottomed out and delicately arching at how well he fills you up, and he's keening like you just sunk a knife between his ribs.

"hoh- f-fuckkkk." his hands wring around your wrists, squeezing them as he breathes through the shock like he's been dunked in cold water. the lewd squelch that echoed throughout the room spoke for itself; you were soaked and the poor man beneath you was being drowned.

"oh i'll fuck you, pretty boy."

your pace is grueling- not fast, but so fucking violent. nails rake into his pecs deeper and deeper each time you rise to the tip and let gravity pull your cunt to his pelvis. each forced drive of your g-spot to his tip has you howling, giggles mixing with loud moans. like the way he's subtly trembling and alternating between holding his breath and panting as he holds his seed back is entertainment for you. spoiler, it really is.

the metal in his stomach burns orange as you take him. arousal pulses through his veins each time your flesh meets his. he is wrecked at this point, losing his fight against the pressure building at the base of his cock. silver strands stuck to his forehead as he peers at you from below, onyx half-moons finding you through his pretty white eyelashes.

"has anyone ever told you- hahh- how pretty you are, kakashi?" you cooed between bounces. you're not sure what he's moaning out loud at- your voice, you presume- but your tongue smooths over the front of your teeth as you savor the taste of his noises with a smile. you lean forward and give his cheek a soft experimental pap after shaking his grasp loose from your wrist. "asked you a question, pretty boy."

despite it being so gentle against his skin it's inaudible, kakashi's hips are stuttering upwards and his hands are scrambling to your hips to push you off of him. "g'nna cum- fuck- m' sorry- hoohh, fuck," he mewls, legs flailing like he's trying to run from you. "g'nnacum g'nnacum 'gnnacum-"

the moan that bellows from him vibrates the air around you- so bassy and loud. he's free from your pussy with a pop, but not soon enough, half of his load is dripping out of you and the other half is being milked onto his stomach- strings of cum lining his stomach every other pump. your soft palm and thumb send him way over the line, moans breaking off into pathetic high-pitched whines as he's overstimulated by the pad of your thumb against his tip.

'"my my, kakashi. look at youuu," you teased and pulled a hiss from the man. "s-sorry- fuck- m' sorry," he panted, twitching every other pump as pleasure turned to buzzing pain. you knew not to push your luck, you’ve already got him hooked. no need to keep on toying with him. give him something to crave later.

your palm parts from his spent cock and he releases a breath he’d been holding at the overstimulation, the prickly feeling fading from his tummy. “you like that, huh kakashi?” you chastised him, giving his cheek a couple more light paps and a pinch. “f-fuck- i guess so,” he breathed a laugh, still catching his breath. “i think i’d like anything if it was you doing it.” he confessed. you can’t deny the flutter that starts from your clit and goes all the way up into your chest. “that’s a bold statement, kakashi. watch what you’re getting yourself into.”

“i’m watching, alright. i don’t wanna get out of it.” veeery suave, kakashi. you sighed a laugh and pushed yourself upright, standing on your knees. “are you sure about that?” a hand came down and spread your flaps apart and you dripped.

“oh fuck.” his breath faltered at the realization and you swear his dick twitched too. “you gotta do something about this, you know. gotta make it up to me.” you murmured, getting back on your hands and crawling forwards up the bed as he sighed a ‘uh-huh’. “gotta clean me up, kakashi.” you smirked, scooching until your pussy was hanging over his face. you’re vertical again as you get ready to plop on him, his hands beating you to it as he pulls your hips to his tongue. “yes ma’am.”

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u a real perv i can tell. I LOVE UR MIND especially ur madara fic and ur sub!chara... this fandom needs more freaks thank u so much queenie 🙏🏼

also could i be 🥩 anon teehee.

TYSMM LOL yes and my work will only become freakier and freakier… Thank u…

AND YES HEHE u r my first anon little mx meat. let’s freaking go

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Hi! I just wanted to say I love your blog and (no pressure) can’t wait to see more from you. Your characterization is so precious I love all of your takes! I hope you have a good day/night :) ❤️

thank uu anon hehe don’t worry no pressure taken that is very encouraging :3💕 thank u!! i really wanna refine it even more but im glad u enjoy it even now in its infancy :) you too 🩷

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omfg the drama in my life rn. just put my two weeks in on a whim because my job pulled a complete 180 on me. im so stressed out but lowkey laughing at the same time cuz they were trying to f me over but i found out and now im doing it to them ehehehe.

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HAIII CONGRATS ON THE TEST GIRLIE !!!! i was unironically rooting for you bc i wanted u to come back !!! so happy u did it !!! loved the the iruka smut !!! i love your blog 💕😖

HAII THANK U BOOKIE !! hehe yayy that makes me happy , this is v encouraging !! i’m glad u enjoy :3c iruka lovers unite

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having hinata thoughts.. she’s so beautiful.. i Can treat u Better than he can …

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haiii hope u r allright !!! i was wondering if you could write dry humping with iruka *evil smile* and how desperately crazy he gets from all the overstimulation ! tyy i love ur blog 💕

cw: dry humping, 'pup', begging, sub!iruka, softdom!reader 18+

am oki! lots of work and school but i passed the test i've been studying for :3 tysm ! hope this is oki <3

sweet iruka who can't help it with you, too addicted to your pussy to do anything without paying attention to her too. your slick is narcotic to him, the way it feels around his cock or stuck to his fingers- the way you taste. he could eat you out for hours- and definitely will at some point. rarely do you ever give him head, poor boy gets too frustrated with all the attention on him, desperate to get his hands on you.

he just needs you. so when you toy with him by dragging your clothed sex along his for too long, his polite pleas turns sloppy. hands grasp at the flesh of your hips, waist, and chest- weakly raking his nails as the teasing is just getting to be too much.

"p-please, fuck- c'n feel you," he huffs, bucking up and making you yip through the cotton as his tip rubs against your sensitive nub. the slick grind of your sexes barred by ruined underwear is intoxicating to you. torturous to the pussy-addicted boy trembling beneath you.

"be patient, 'ruka." you hum, a sadistic smile gracing your sweet face. he sees no malice behind you, innocently devoted to you and whatever you say. "hahh- mhm- okay," he nods, knitting his eyes together and breathing through each agonizing grind and bump. so sweet, you think. the way the scar over his nose contorts as his expression settles into a strained, focused one. fickle pads press into your hips, loosely holding onto them as you hump against him and occasionally digging into them each time you slide right over the sensitive seam beneath his tip. he's trying so hard to stay still- to be good for you- but fuck, your noises and movements are driving him crazy. the powdery scent emanating from the front of your neck wafts into him each time you lean into him. it's intoxicating, the combination of your heat, your scent, the brush of your chest against him each time you hump- he can't.

pitiful whines spill from his mouth and he weakly humps in reflex to your stimulation. "ahn, s-so good, feel so good," he fusses, practically panting. he's desperate to stabilize his voice- trying so hard to maintain some sort of composure. after all, he hadn't even gotten a proper fix of you yet, and he was already getting close to just your outline.

he can't help the stutter of his hips. the way his grip tightens around yours. he can't help needing more of you. you're just too good. each drag of his bulge against your defined slit has you grinning more and more at the erosion of his self-control. his hands sculpt up your torso, pulling you closer to him in a lust-driven hunger. his brain is fuzzy from the torture and all he knows he wants is more of you.

in a beat, his pace is increasing and the distance between the two of you is closed with his mouth as he takes a chilled nipple into his warm mouth, moaning at the feeling of it. his teeth gently roll against it before he alternates between pressing against it with the flat of his tongue and sucking- hard. you lick the front of your teeth and sigh at the feeling, arousal shooting through your nerves at the sudden display of depraved affection. poor pup is so starved he's taking anything he can.

he's drunk on your body, eyes rolling back at the taste of your flesh and fluttering closed as he fucks you through cotton. pride and lust pool in your gut at the sight of his desperation, so fucking cute.

"ah- jus' like that, pretty boy, fuck." you huff, tugging a moan from him that vibrates through your chest. his arms snake around your torso, pulling you closer to him- desperate for your warmth. no solace is found in his attempts- only making him more n' more frustrated at the simultaneous flood of his senses and lack of you.

his mouth detaches from you with a drawn-out whine, head falling back to try and catch your eyes with his. "i caaan't- i can't, please." he cries, hands traveling down your back and pausing once the tips of his fingers meet your panties. "please-" "hah, please what, baby? you purr, dusk eyes meeting his glossed-over ones, fatigue evident on his face.

he takes a shaky breath, carefully holding eye contact with you.

"please let me fuck you."

[bttrflybb]

IS IT JUST ME OR ARE THE NARUTO TAGS BUGGING.

Fics that were posted almost hours ago are barely getting any interactions or notes, something must be wrong.

IDK ngl i just thought my writing was mid. but i did notice this maybe a week ago and searched my own tags on a separate account on a separate browser and my stuff doesn’t show up sometimes , so imwnot sure.

[bttrflybb]

cw: angst, blood, reader death, madara x reader, child mention

a/n: sry abt ia! been studying for a test :p here's a lil something i wrote during my downtime. inspired by a song, 'like blood from a stone' by old gray. real vague, idek what timeframe this is set in. i just want to study my madara characterization... i have like 3 drafts in the work so dw more soon, i just gotta get the next couple days over with.

there’s a man with eyes that flicker between a dark calamity and crimson rage soaked in sorrow. his gaze softens when it finds your pathetic figure, like a hunter's soft smile when it catches the fawn of the stag he just slaughtered. he loves you, he will always love you, but there are things bigger than you. things he can’t ignore. things that haunt him even when he’s in your embrace.

he won’t allow himself to be washed in your naïve love. not now. there are things bigger than this. things he has to protect you and his child from. in another world, where the tendrils of retribution don’t have such a hold on him, he is able to love you. love you with a pure, worthy love. to let your innocent love influence him. but not in this world. in the world he creates for the two- no, the three of you, only then will he be at peace with you all.

his name is the first word to leave your mouth as the red-hot pain of the gash in your torso is replaced by the quiet chill of the air. you’re getting cold. steel blue and fiery orange illuminates the edges of your vision as you gaze into the sky, unable to move. his blood-curdling screams and the tremors of susano’o almost make you giggle. now, as the light is fading from your eyes, only now do you hear something indicative of the love he held for you. something more than the tenderness you’d catch glimpses of- the gentleness you made so difficult to suppress. what a wrathful man. you curse yourself for spurring his rage on. you know what your death will do to him. you know the plan you've set in motion. all you wanted was to soften his harsh edges, to bring those walls down so he could truly enjoy his involvement in your shared life. your throat burns with tears- your body too weak to bring them to your eyes.

flashes of the life you dreamed of shutter in your brain. where you get to watch your child grow alongside his father and take his spot as the leader of the clan. pain shoots through you again as you weakly cry out. you cry for the peace you were so close to seeing that you know you have singlehandedly shattered- being killed by a group of ninjas bearing that double-ended pronged crest. you cry for the past and future deaths that will be for nothing. you feel hopeless. you know your husband. you know the pain he will dispense in response.

his silhouette is above you, tears streaking the blood stuck to his face as you're shaken in his arms. slots of time are missing in your brain, you don't know when you were scooped up by him, his strong frame swallowing your frail body up. his voice barely hums through the static. the only thing you can make out is his face- his despondent expression and those wartorn, crimson eyes like stubbornness and struggle, like the sculpted ruins in abandoned villages that refuse to fall completely.

"oh, madara." you hum. your eyes soften at the sight of him. "i'm so sorry, my madara." you weakly sing, a bittersweet tone beneath your words. you're smiling. his face is stricken in despair, lip quivering and his eyebrows contorted in disbelief. in his eyes, you see your own, eyes that gleam back when the light of hope is shined on them, eyes that believe in a future where mothers like you aren't forced to leave their children behind in the name of another's vengeance. you hold empathy for your killers. young senju who were orphaned years ago by your clan, you're sure. misguided sweet things.

"i'm so so-" "don't." he stills. "please don't." his voice wavers. his gloved hand brings your hand to him, pressing the knuckles of your cold fingers to his lips. he feels sick at how icy they are, how you're already so much paler than usual. the blood rising in your throat causes you to choke a bit, wheezing before you can get more words out. "not you, please- not you," a sob wracks his body, and you've never felt more loved. with the last of your strength, you splay out your fingers to take his chiseled cheek in your hand, the pad of your thumb swiping the mixture of blood and tears away. "you can't." he wept. he's crying.

"don't cry." you whisper, "be strong, madara. be strong f-for me," blood sputters up as you speak and you heave, lurching forward with the support of his arms. "you have t-to, madara," your tone shifts, that smile still poignant on your face, "be strong for itsuki." your body is heavy, head like the bulb of a tulip too dense for the stem to hold up. death doesn't scare you, but leaving your husband and son behind in such a tumultuous world does. "p-please, madara-," you warble, weakly squeezing his hand. "okay." he responds, his tone bleak and dull. you realize, your hope is dying with you.

a small laugh sighs from your nose and slump against him, shoulder and head thudding against his chest. "okay." your voice was lower than a whisper, and your fingers loosened around his and were suddenly heavier in his grasp. there's so much more to be said between the two of you. there are so many more promises and wishes to leave behind, but your body and voice have both been relinquished from you like a soldier from his duty.

then there's that cacophony of ghosts reminding him of his destiny for failure. he's seeing three of you in his arms, heartbeat so hard it's vibrating his vision and shaking him from the inside like a chorus of war drums. madara has been defeated once more. you're slack in his arms and once he gives you a shake, your head lulling back, and those eyes that once held the most worried kindness he had ever seen are dull- and he knows you're gone. he knows you're not here to hear the wail that comes from him. the cry that releases the spiritual bars holding back his hate, dust and pebbles dancing on the ground at how loud it is.

you knew your husband. even at the doorstep of death, before you're whisked away by whatever god is taking you to the afterlife, you knew his hate. his love.

this plan he kept reserved in the back of his head, you were supposed to be a part of it. you were supposed to be happy. that peace you craved- he was going to give it to you. everything you wanted, for you. it was all for you. the bitter taste of disdain on his tongue mixes with the blood bubbling up from his throat, raw from screaming. names, curses, pleas. the moon taunts him, like a statue depicting a worthless god as he holds the body of his lover before it.

those tendrils of retribution dig beneath his skin, rooting his soul to the conviction he needed to follow through with this plan. upon this night, upon this moon, it is set in motion.