falloutrebellion

[falloutrebellion]

like a vampire should 🩸

[falloutrebellion]

**All Characters are aged up to 20+!!** Content ahead: some nervous boy energy Word count: ~ 1100 Pairing: Modern AU!Itachi x reader Summary: itachi likes you and he doesn't know how to tell you! A/n: for a request! Theres no smut in this, but if yall like it i can make a part 2 ;) hope you like it!

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Between Classes

The smell of the old coffee shop was strong with robust espresso beans and cinnamon from the latte of the day. He had been there for hours, laptop open, papers scattered across his table and an empty cup sitting in a forgotten corner of the table.

He wasn’t expecting to see you; pale eyed, long dark hair lazily thrown over your shoulder. 

It was your third year of college and his fourth year. He had been focused on his studies in international relations, and that’s how you met. Your degree in political science had you both overlapping a handful of classes, and he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. Study buddies.

But today wasn’t your normal meeting day; it was a random Thursday. He wanted to stand and greet you, a pleasant surprise to his hectic and stressful day, but he couldn’t move. What if you were busy?

You walked up to the counter and you were just close enough to him for him to hear your order; a hot earl grey tea with warm steamed vanilla milk– to go.

Of course you’re taking it to go. You had a huge test tomorrow for one of your classes and you’d get way too distracted by studying outside of your calm dorm room.

You didn’t notice Itachi– he was quiet, in a hoodie with his hair thrown back into a bun, glasses pushed up to the crown of his head. He shook his leg in anticipation. He was waiting for you to notice him, but it was only so that he could pretend he didn’t notice you first.

You waited patiently for your tea, opening your phone to scroll when your older brother, Neji, called. 

You picked up the phone, and unbeknownst to Itachi, you spoke very friendly with someone. Boyfriend? Girlfriend?

He looked down in shame for feeling like he was stalking you almost– though, in his defense, he wasn’t expecting to see you there. He glanced back down to his work and continued. 

You had gotten your tea and hours passed. It was 2:32 am; you were both exhausted and way too revved up to go to sleep from the caffeine you had been drinking. Your class wasn't until pretty late in the day so you could afford to pull a late night, but you couldn’t possibly study anymore. 

Your phone began to go off and when you glanced down at it, you saw a text from Itachi. 

Itachi: hey, i’ve been studying for hours. do you wanna take a walk?

Yn: oh! hey, tbh same. yeah ill be down in a few

What a relief. Something to get you out of your room, if anything for a few hours. And of course he knew you were awake. You were always awake.

You had thrown on your comfy clothes that were definitely not suited for a night walk with Itachi Uchiha, so you put on some shorts, vans, and a loose baggy t-shirt. 

Your stomach fluttered with excitement. Honestly, you tried to find every reason to run into him in public. But he clearly wasn’t interested in you; he didn’t even notice you at the coffee shop today. It’s by the gods good will that he even thought to text you.

You made your way down, trying to calm the sweat forming in your hands. Neji has tried to teach you how to be more calm, more collected. But maybe it was how college was beginning to affect you, maybe it was the amount of caffeine that you drink a day, but your anxiety didn’t allow you to ever just be chill. 

Your keys, fob and phone in your hand, you met him outside of your building.

“Hey, yn,” he said, smiling at you. 

“Thank you for joining me. I’ve been alone all day studying and didn’t realize I hadn’t even talked to anyone until I got on my phone.” He explained.

You smiled at him, squinting your eyes. “It’s okay, me neither! Well, besides when my brother called. But he was only talking about family stuff.” You said.

Your brother! Of course! He forgot you had a brother.

“Is everything okay?” He asked. 

You nodded, before shrugging your shoulders. 

“Yeah… it’s nothing too dramatic,” you said, sighing. “I come from a family that’s… well, traditional, very structured. People tend to notice when a Hyūga walks into a room. Neji’s handled most of the heavier stuff at home while I’ve been at school, so I haven’t had to deal with it as much.” You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s… normal for us, I guess. Nothing really shakes the family. I’ve just gotten used to it.” 

“It sounds complicated,” he responded.

You nodded your head again. “I suppose so, but my brother is kind of dealing with the brunt of the family drama. Basically so that I can go to school.” You finished. 

“But when I get my degree, I’m going to do great stuff for the family.”

He chuckled, elbowing you lightly. “I don’t doubt it.”

You both stopped at a lake on campus, sitting in the soft grass.

“What’s your family like?” You asked.

His black eyes wandered the scenery, finding a good place to begin. 

“They’re… also complicated,” he started, smiling at you.

“Think less royalty and more neighborhood watch… with lawyers.” He didn’t realize how complicated it would be to explain to you, but you giggled at his answer.

“They’ve been involved in the local affairs and polities for generations now. My father kind of oversees all of it.” You nodded.

“So, I guess we’ve got that in common,” you offered, nudging him a bit.

He had been looking at you, but the way the moon caught your iris, the way the breeze blew through your hair, his joking expression on his face dropped and he finally realized where exactly he was right now.

You recognized the situation as well, laughing to yourself, pleased with your proximity to him.

“I, uh– I’ve never been good at stuff like this,” he explained. For the first time in his life, Itachi Uchiha felt awkward. 

You could sense where this was going, but you let him finish.

“I… enjoy being around you, Yn,” he said, his eyes darting all over the place.

You smiled at him, leaning back on your palm. “I enjoy being around you as well, Itachi.” 

He looked at her for a long moment, eyes flicking to the lake and back. “I… I mean, I didn’t know how to say it. I just know that I like you. I have feelings for you. More than anyone else, I think.”

She felt her chest tighten, heat rising to her cheeks. “I… I feel the same.” They both let out a small laugh, tension melting into something quieter, softer, but no less full of meaning.

[falloutrebellion]

Hey im posting here too now💔

[falloutrebellion]

i really enjoy your writing. finding this blog and reading your writing literally made my entire week! would you consider writing something for obito?

Omg thank you so much!!!! Im so happy to hear that ❤️❤️ AND YES I LOVE OBITO!!!!! PLEASE SEND EM!!!!

[falloutrebellion]

Loving overgrown!! Can’t wait for more parts :)

Omg 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!!! Next part is coming (REALLLLLY) soon!!!

[falloutrebellion]

**All Characters are aged up to 20+!!** Content ahead: mentions of child death, talk about mental health, talk of PTSD and intrusive thoughts, s*x dreams (they never actually even touch), dirty fantasy’s, Kabuto wants to mess with Yn’s medication to make her dependent on him. Word count: 5.5k Pairing: Kabuto x Reader Summary: Yn was ordered by Tsunade to attend therapy and see the leafs psychiatrist after a rough mission. A/n: This is kind of a confusing AU, I know, but this is if Kabuto didn't join Orochimaru, was a psychiatrist, and worked for the leaf’s shinobi force and wanted to fuck his patients. This is kind of a darker, tabu-ish one shot! Please see my other works if these themes make you uncomfortable!

Masterlist

The first thing she could smell was the antiseptic wipes they used in the doctors clinic; they used them for vaccines and such. She smiled at the stranger who held the door open for her, graciously thanking them as she had her hands full of the junk in purse. She couldn’t, for the life of her, find her wallet. 

She checked into the clinic, taking a sip of water. She had gotten back from a particularly grueling mission; many men, women, and children were lost. As per regulation, she had to visit the leaf’s psychiatrist, Dr. Yakushi. 

She sat in the waiting room, being a few minutes early she thought she’d have to find a way to entertain herself– to try to look like she didn’t despise being here. She assumed she was fine, why did they have to go through all of these regulations? 

“Miss. L/n?” She heard a voice call out. Her head snapped in the direction of the wooden double doors. A young man, no older than 30, stood before her. He seemed normal enough– he wasn’t old so she didn’t have to worry about an age gap to make things hard for him to understand. He carried himself in a way that even though he was young, he knew what he was doing. 

She stood, tucking her purse under her arm and walking towards him. He smiled at her, holding the door open for her and she walked through. “It’s nice to see you, Y/n! My name is Dr. Kabuto Yakushi, but you can just call me Kabuto.” He introduced himself.

She gave him an obligatory smile, one warm enough to tell him that she was sane enough to carry herself well, but one that also told him that she really didn’t want to be here.

They reached his office and as she stepped through his door, he shut it behind him and gestured her to the couch.

He began by asking all of the normal stuff; Why are you here? How are you feeling? Have you felt like you were a harm to others or yourself in the last 2 weeks?

To which, she gave him all very basic answers. All saying that she was fine.

He was taking notes of everything– her answers, her posture, her eye contact, how beautiful her eyes were.

He blinked himself out of that thought. She’s a patient, he’d thought to himself. 

She was wearing a dark green tube top over top of a long sleeve fish net under shirt as well as tight fitted leggings, standard issued shinobi sandals and her head band worn proudly around her neck.

That beautiful, soft neck. How much more beautiful would it look with my hands wrapped around it?

He roughly clicked his pen on the desk, mostly to district himself, and sat his notebook down.

“So, I can see that you’re here by official order from Lady 5th. Not everyone is usually fond of this part of the gig.” He began. She threw him a nervous smile, worried that if she said the wrong thing, he’d report it back to Tsunade and she’d be removed from the Anbu.

“It’s okay, Yn. You can speak freely. Having intrusive thoughts doesn’t make you unstable or untrustworthy. I’m here to help with them.” He replied to the silence she gave him.

“I’m fine, honestly,” she said quietly.

He nodded in return, allowing silence to fill the space for a few seconds. 

He turned to her file and pulled out some papers that he began reading. “It says here that this was after a mission that forced you into a position to see some fairly traumatising things. Can you tell me a little bit about that?” He asked, almost sincerely. 

She sighed a bit. She really was fine, if she didn’t think about it. 

“Well,” she began, pulling her knees to her chest on his couch. “I was on a mission with two other men. Which, I work with men all the time and it’s never an issue. Part of our assignment was to protect three families traveling to a safe zone. Two villages are killing each other, and these three families needed to survive to keep the trade routes to the leaf stable.” She continued. 

“But when we got there, they…” she trailed off, her eyes glazing over.

A natural trauma response. Kabuto noted. He just held his gaze on her and listened

“They were all dead. The men, the women, and even the children. And it… it wasn’t a mercy kill, either. It was, well, it was brutal.” She finished. 

He nodded. “I see.”

“But we see stuff like that all the time in this line of work. We don’t exactly get to be traumatized by this stuff.” She tried to explain. 

“Ahh, but it’s not about what you do and don’t get to do. Being good at your job doesn’t mean you’re suddenly able to turn off your brain. There are things you see and experience as a shinobi that doesn't always sit well with you. That’s why I'm here.” He finished.

She let out a deep breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Honestly, sleeping has been a little hard. And I’ve been finding it harder to concentrate. Not even just after that mission, they’ve kind of been piling up.” She admitted. “It’s almost like I can’t stop thinking about them.”

He nodded in response, reaching over for his prescription pad. “I’m going to write you a mild anti-depressent. It’ll take a few days for it to kick in and when it does, it takes a few more for it to even out the chemicals in your brain. But at least you’ll be able to sleep.” He said, handing her the paper with the drug’s name and dose on it.

She nodded and smiled a little. “You don’t think I’m not suited for this, then?” She asked. He let out a laugh, removing his glasses.

“Yn, in my line of work I see thousands of people who are all afraid they’re going to go home and have a PTSD episode and kill their family. But that doesn't make them bad people. They’re good people. Because they’re getting help. And it’s okay to need help.” He said, finally standing. 

“Thanks, Dr. Yakushi,” she said, also standing and heading for the door. As she began to walk out, he got a whiff of her smell. It put him in a trance. “Please, just Kabuto.” He said.

That night, he barely got any sleep. When he read, he felt like she was in the room with him, waiting for his attention to be on her. When he silently ate his dinner, he felt like he was eating with her.

And when he showered, the warm water made his skin burn in the best way. This could be what it’d feel like if her mouth was all over my body, he’d think to himself.

He reached down and began to touch himself, letting the warm water fill his senses. But as he began to reach the finish line, he snapped himself back awake. This is a patient! He remembered, yanking the knob to the cold side.

He was finally able to get in bed, and as he got into bed he pulled out his journal. When you see tens of clients in a day, all with all sorts of issues, he thought it important that he stay on top of his mental health, as well. So he had begun to journal his inner monologue. But when he pulled out his journal, all he wanted was to write about her. 

The way she smelled, the way her hair sat on her shoulders, the way he could tell how much she had been biting her lip out of nervousness. He wanted to bite it, too.

His thoughts became too much. He had to put his notebook away and get some sleep. Maybe that was his issue. Not enough sleep.

She sat on his couch in his office. “Dr. Yakushi, please fix me,” she begged him. He was suddenly in his office with her. He didn’t know how he got there, but he wasn’t complaining. She was heaving, her breaths were shallow and she was sweating. She was also mercilessly working on her clit, trying anything she could to finish. “Please!” she begged him. He removed his glasses and took a few steps to cross the room and dropped to his knees. He lowered himself in front of her and began to gently kiss her thighs down to her knees, removing her panties and socks. He reached up to take her hair that was in a pony tail down, letting her hair fall down to her newly exposed nipples. Her breasts were so perfect, her nipples were the lightest shade of pink and were so hard to the touch. He couldn’t stop himself from rolling them between his fingers causing her to moan for him. He lowered his head to her glistening pussy, so soaked for him. He licked up the side of her labia causing her to whimper slightly, before he pressed kisses onto her clit. “K-Kabuto, please!” She begged again. He let his tongue get to work as he looked up at her– she was crying from the stimulation she wasn’t getting.  “I’ll take good care of you, Yn.” He said, simply. His mouth worked from the opening of her vagina, up to her clit and he stayed there for the remainder of the time. He brought down one of his hands and soaked it with his own spit from her pussy and gently sank it into her.  Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her hands went straight to his hair as she pulled him closer to her, grinding herself on his mouth. He continued to please her like that until he got her legs shaking uncontrollably. Eventually, she was a cumming mess in front of him. She gave him the most sinister grin as she got up, pulling his clothes off. She pushed him in her place on the couch as she took in his whole length. The sudden feeling of her mouth shocked him, causing him to gasp. He had a death grip with his fingers locked into her hair, pulling head to bob up and down on his dick.  She reached up and ran her hands all over his chest and stomach, the sight alone was enough to drive him mad. She took in his entire length, letting his tip claim the back of her throat as he came and when he looked down, she was looking into his eyes the whole time. He huffed out a deep sigh, pulling her off and pushing her onto the couch. He kept her on her knees and pushed her hips on the edge of the couch, causing her chest to be bent over the seat. He admired how thick her hips and ass were as he slowly sank himself into her. “O-oh, gods!” She yelled out, He began to snap his hips into hers, gently pulling her arms back. With one hand he was holding both of her arms behind her back, and with the other, he had his fist gripping in her hair to keep her sitting up. “You’re being such a good girl for me, Yn. Such a good patient. Letting me fuck your problems away,” he breathlessly spoke out.  She began to whine again, clamping around his cock every few minutes to show him that she was cumming over and over again for him. Just for him. He looked down and saw her creaming all around his dick as a milky white ring began to form at the base of his dick. He smiled at the sight, pushing her head into the couch now. He didn’t need to go harder and harder. The steady pace coupled with the fact that he was hitting her g-spot every time was mind blowing enough for her. The fact that he could keep everything exactly the same for this long was almost more impressive.  “I’m so close,” he whispered to her as he let go of her hair, shoving his hand over her mouth. He began to fuck her harder and harder, though, for his own release.  All she could do was scream in pleasure. And right as he was about to finish...

*RING RING*

Kabuto shot up, taking a deep breath, trying to ground himself from his dream. 

He woke up in a sweat, but at least he didn’t cum in his sleep.

He got ready for the day like nothing happened.

Weeks later had passed and these dreams were almost nightly for him. He told himself that it had just been awhile since he had been with someone. It was only natural that his mind takes out its frustrations on a girl who’s attractive.

He went in that morning like any other day. But he saw that Yn was on his schedule for today. How was he supposed to face her? 

A few patience went by and Yn was next. He brought her back to his office from the waiting room like they had the last time.

“It’s good to see you again, Yn. How are you?” He asked. She glanced at him with exhaustion in her eyes. “I’ve been better,” she said sleepily.

“I’ve been taking the medicine you prescribed and I gotta tell you, I feel like a zombie.” She said, sitting on the couch. “And I feel like I have no sex drive,” she finished. 

He had to pretend like he wasn’t thinking of 100 ways he could fix that for her.

“Loss of libido is, unfortunately, very normal with SSRIs. But, before I prescribe you something different, why don’t you tell me what you’re liking about that one and what you don’t like?” He asked, sitting at his desk.

“Well, I’m actually able to sleep. And I haven’t been having any dreams lately, which is good for me. But I haven't really had an appetite, I’m tired all the time, or, like I said, my sex drive is almost non-existent.” She explained.

He nodded, looking into the void trying to think of some solutions. Surely I can't give her THIS. This would make her almost completely dependent on me. He thought to himself, as he glanced at a medicine he had curated himself that sat on his library. 

He couldn’t think with his head. Not the right one, anyways. Though, he was really trying.

He got up out of his chair, and reached for the vile on the shelf. He knew it worked, and he knew that it was totally safe for consumption, but he also knew how it would make her a slave to her urges for him. And only him. 

He picked it up, holding it in his hand, debating on if he was willing to do this for his own self-gratification. 

“I want you to try this.”

[falloutrebellion]

I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR WRITING CHOKEHOLD I OWE YOU MY LIFEEEEE

Ahhhhhhhh 🥹🥹🥹🥹 THANK YOU FOR READING IT 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[falloutrebellion]

Hii! Not sure if this is how you make a request but i had this idea while writing my own fanfic but i dont know if i wanna write it myself/ if i would make it good. Not sure if you find this as a triggering theme or if youll even get this but yk. If you see this and dont find interest in it, thats alright!

So my idea is for it to be a kakashi x (fem)reader. If you have ever heard the song Medicine by Daughter then thats what my idea is biased around. (Listen to it so you could have a better idea :D)

My idea is that it could be modern or not. However the story fits better is up to you. Y/n is a Therapist/addiction counselor. Kakashi is now one of their patients and struggles with medicine (drugs) because of the pain they have dealt with in life for example all the people he has lost like his father and his friends. Not sure if you could make this into a one shot or a short story! Maybe you see it as a longer story. Anything is fine to me. It would mean everything if you even find interest writing this for me in the first place! (If you do want to you can make it spicy)

I want it to be a sensitive subject story if you are also into that. I find myself connected to those most and its almost like it helps me cope with my problems in life reading those kinds of situations.

Hello doll!! I would love to do this for you!! I will add it to my list of requests :) I can relate with this as well and I would love to dabble in this!! I’m a little behind on my requests but keep an eye out!! (I’ll have it named Medicine for the song) just give me a lil time 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[falloutrebellion]

naruto characters and posts that reminded me of them part 8

[falloutrebellion]

[falloutrebellion]

three fools does not make a wise man i fear

[falloutrebellion]

Help me plsssss

[falloutrebellion]

the best time to consume media is like 5 years after its peak popularity

[falloutrebellion]

There are some characters where giving them therapy and cleaning them up is the fanfiction equivalent of buying antique furniture and painting it white

[falloutrebellion]

TikTok I made the other day, it’s my fav running joke in shippuden lmao

[falloutrebellion]

Suigetsu x F!Reader

.Rather Be In Hell Than Alone.

A/N: This is a fic exchange for my bestie @littleyellowflower 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Pairing: Suigetsu x Jealous F!Reader

Summary: He's water and you're oil, and he's good for nothing besides lighting your fuse and setting you off. Yet still, neither of you can stay away. When you spot your ex with another girl, a game of cat and mouse ensues, and you make sure it ends with your name on his lips.

Inspired by Kill Bill- SZA

Tags: Jealous reader, toxic relationships, power play, teasing, creampie, semi-public, dom!Suigetsu, vaginal fingering, dirty talking, degradation, anal fingering (f!receiving), borders on hate sex/jealous sex

He knows how to get under your skin.

You might even say he enjoys it.

It was the one thing he’s always done best over the years. Well, not the only thing, but annoying you was his favorite thing to do. Whether you were together or not, everything he did irked you— sent a raging fire through your veins that always ended with his teeth on your neck and hand in your pants.

The last time you saw him, you had met in passing in the Land of Rivers. He was there for a mercenary gig, and you just happened to be shopping—a fortunate chance.

The two of you have a game— bait, hunt, and attack. You played it well, and you would reward him with a long night of power play, with neither of you accepting defeat.

Here’s the problem: you can’t stand Suigetsu. But you can’t stand to see him with anyone else either. You love to hate him, and no one else is invited into the mix. Whether you were slapping him or fucking him, it made no difference to you.

He is yours.

Which is why you stand in the middle of a crowd with a death stare, trying to remind yourself to breathe. The summer festival lanterns cast red-gold shadows across the village square, shimmering against the indigo twilight. Paper streamers flutter in the breeze, carrying the mingled scents of grilled squid, sweet dango, and the faint perfume of a thousand cherry blossoms.

Suigetsu leans against a game stall, one arm casually draped around a kunoichi you vaguely recognize from the Hidden Mist. Her glossy black hair cascades down her back, catching the lantern light as she laughs at something he whispers in her ear. Your stomach twists into a knot, bitter as an unripe fig.

You really didn’t mean to stare, but your eyes betrayed you. The crowd parts for just a moment, and suddenly his gaze locks with yours across the sea of festival-goers. His violet eyes widen in recognition, then narrow with mischief. That familiar, sharp-toothed grin spreads across his face—the one that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him senseless.

Without breaking eye contact, he pulls the girl closer, his fingers gripping tightly on her bare shoulder. He whispers something else that makes her giggle, his lips deliberately lingering near her ear.

The message is clear: Look what you're missing.

Heat rushes to your cheeks—not embarrassment, but something darker, more primal. The paper fan in your hand snaps shut with enough force to startle the elderly woman beside you.

Two can play this game.

You adjust your yukata, the silken fabric whispering against your skin as you loosen it just enough to expose your collarbone, and even some cleavage. Your yukata was cropped around your mid-thigh, showing off your smooth legs that gleam under the bright moon. With deliberate slowness, you weave through the crowd, stopping at a nearby stall where a tall and handsome merchant sells bottles of sake and plum wine.

"Something sweet," you tell the vendor, making sure your voice carries just far enough. The man has dark hair and eyes, his gaze immediately trailing to your exposed skin as he gives you a husky grin.

“Anything for you,” he says with a wink as he overpours your drink. You accept the cup with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, letting your fingers linger against the vendor's hand just long enough to be noticeable.

When you glance back, Suigetsu's attention has shifted. He's still with the black-haired kunoichi, but his eyes follow your movements with the intensity of a predator. The girl tugs at his sleeve, clearly annoyed at his divided attention.

You raise your cup in a mock toast to him before taking a slow sip, letting the sweet liquid linger on your lips. You leave a ryo on the bar before you turn away, disappearing into the throng of festival-goers, knowing he won't be able to resist following.

The game has begun, and you intend to win.

The crowd pulses around you like a living thing as you navigate between food stalls and dancing villagers. You can feel his chakra signature following—sometimes closer, sometimes farther, but always there. The kunoichi's signature flickers uncertainly beside his, then fades away entirely. You smile to yourself, knowing you've already won the first round.

At the bridge arching over the village stream, you pause to watch the reflection of lanterns dance on the dark water below. The wooden railing feels cool beneath your fingertips, a sharp contrast to the heat building inside you. People pass you, heading both to and from the festivities, but your mind is focused elsewhere. You sense Suigetsu’s approach before you hear him—that distinctive chakra signature, like water charged with lightning.

"And finally, she stops." Suigetsu drawls, his voice carrying that familiar rasp that sends a shiver down your spine.

You don't turn around, focusing your glare on the water. "Where's your companion? That pretty Mist girl seemed quite... attached."

"Jealous?" He's closer now, close enough that you can feel his breath on your neck.

"Should I be?" You finally face him, leaning back against the railing with practiced nonchalance. The moonlight catches the sharp angles of his face, the gleam of those dangerous teeth.

"You tell me." His eyes rake over you, lingering on the exposed skin at your collar. "That little show with the sake vendor was cute."

You raise an eyebrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The crowd around you thins as you move away from the bridge, following a path that leads toward the shadowy edges of the festival. You make sure your hips sway just enough as you walk ahead of him, feeling his eyes burning into your back.

"Your kunoichi friend might get lonely," you call over your shoulder.

"She's not my concern right now." His voice has dropped an octave, taking on that dangerous edge you know too well.

You pass a group of laughing villagers, their faces flushed with sake and celebration. A young man catches your eye, offering a shy smile. You return it with deliberate warmth, letting your hand brush against his arm as you pass.

Suigetsu's chakra flares behind you—a wave of cold fury that makes the hair on your arms stand up.

"You always were a tease," he growls when he catches up, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. The sounds of the festival fade, replaced by your own heartbeat thundering in your ears.

"And you always were possessive for someone who claims not to care." You twist free of his grasp, backing deeper into the shadows.

He follows, stalking forward until your back hits the wall. "Is that what this is about? You want me to prove I care?"

"I don't want anything from you." The lie tastes bitter on your tongue.

His laugh is low and dangerous. "Liar." He plants one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in until his face is inches from yours. "You've been baiting me all night."

"And you've been flaunting that girl in my face."

"Worked, didn't it?" His free hand comes up to trace the line of your jawline with a touch so light it makes you shiver. "You've always been so easy to piss off."

Your hand shoots up to grip his wrist, nails digging into his skin. "And you've always been so easy to manipulate."

His eyes darken at your words, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of violet remains. The air between you crackles with tension, heavy with unspoken accusations and desire.

"Is that what you think you're doing? Manipulating me?" His voice drops to a dangerous whisper as he presses closer, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the cool night air. "Because from where I'm standing, you look like you're the one backed against a wall."

You bare your teeth in a smile that's more challenge than warmth. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

His laugh is sharp and cutting. “Is that right?"

Before he can say more, you grab the front of his shirt and yank him forward, crashing your mouth against his. The kiss is all teeth and fury, nothing gentle about it. He tastes like plum wine and salt—something that makes your blood sing with want and rage in equal measure.

He growls against your lips, pressing you harder against the wall, one hand tangling roughly in your hair. You bite his lower lip hard, satisfied when he hisses in pain and surprise.

"Still angry about her?" He taunts, voice ragged as he pulls back just enough to speak. "Or is it because you know I'll be gone again tomorrow?"

"Shut up," you snarl, shoving him back with enough force that he stumbles. But you follow the movement, refusing to let space come between you. "Just shut up for once in your life."

His back hits the opposite wall of the narrow alley, and you're on him instantly, hands shoving beneath his clothing to find skin. His muscles tense under your touch, hard and defined from years of fighting. You drag your nails down his chest, leaving angry red trails in their wake.

"Make me," he challenges, eyes glittering dangerously in the dim light that filters in from the festival lanterns.

You silence him with another bruising kiss, feeling his hands grip your hips with enough force to leave marks. Good. You want the evidence of this night on your skin tomorrow, want the reminder of how much you hate how much you need him.

He spins you suddenly, reversing your positions so you're once again pinned against the wall. His hand slides up your thigh, pushing aside the fabric of your yukata with impatient fingers.

"You put on quite a show out there," he murmurs against your neck, teeth scraping over your pulse point. "All for my benefit?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you gasp as his fingers find the sensitive spot at the juncture of your thighs, your body betraying your words. "You're nothing but a distraction," you hiss, pushing against his chest even as your body betrays you by leaning into his touch. "The only thing you've ever been good for is fucking me senseless. Nothing more."

His eyes darken dangerously, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of violet remains. "You don’t give me enough credit." He murmurs, voice dropping to that husky timber that always makes your knees weak. "Then let me be good for something."

Before you can retort, his mouth crashes against yours, all teeth and tongue and suppressed rage. His hand slides up your thigh, bunching the silk of your yukata as he pushes you harder against the rough wall. Your skin scrapes against the bricks, the slight pain only amplifying the pleasure as his fingers dip into your soaked panties.

"Already wet for me," he growls against your mouth as he circles your swollen clit. "So much for being angry."

Your hand tangles in his hair at the back of his neck as you hold back a moan. "Shut up."

He chuckles darkly, pushing two fingers inside you without warning. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, your head falling back against the wall. “Bet you’ve been wet since you saw me in the market," he teases, his breath hot in the crook of your neck.

His thumb circles your clit as his fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes your vision blur at the edges. The calluses on his fingertips create a delicious friction that has you fighting to keep your composure.

"You can pretend all you want," he whispers hotly against your ear, his free hand pinning your wrists above your head. "But I know you better than you know yourself. I know how bad you need me."

You clench your jaw, determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. The festival music pulses in the distance, masking the wet sounds of his fingers working between your thighs. Anyone could walk by the alley entrance at any moment—the thought only intensifies the heat coiling in your belly.

"I saw how you looked at her," you manage to say between ragged breaths, holding on to your fury. "Like you wanted to—"

"Like I wanted to make you jealous," he cuts you off, adding a third finger that stretches you deliciously as you cry out. "And it worked perfectly."

Your hips betray you, rocking against his hand as he increases his pace. "I hate you," you gasp, the words lacking any real conviction.

"No, you don't." His teeth graze the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. "You hate that you want me. You hate that no one else makes you feel like this."

He's right, and that knowledge only fuels your anger and arousal in equal measure. You struggle against his grip, not really wanting to break free but needing him to know you're still fighting this—fighting him.

"Tell me you weren't thinking about this all night," he demands, curling his fingers just right while his thumb continues its merciless circles."Tell me you weren't imagining me fucking you against this wall the moment you saw me," he growls, his fingers working faster inside you.

You bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but your body betrays you. The coil of pleasure tightens low in your belly, your walls clenching around his fingers as your release builds.

"I hate you," you gasp again, the words dissolving into a reluctant moan as his thumb presses harder against your clit.

"Hate me all you want," he whispers against your ear, "but you're going to come for me anyway."

His words send you over the edge. Your body convulses against his hand, waves of pleasure crashing through you as you struggle to stay quiet. Your nails dig crescents into his shoulders as you ride out your orgasm on his fingers, teeth sinking into his neck to muffle your cries.

When the tremors finally subside, you're breathing hard, sweat beading along your collarbone despite the cool night air. Suigetsu's eyes gleam with triumph in the dim light filtering into the alley.

"Feel better?" He asks, that infuriating smirk spreading across his face.

You narrow your eyes, refusing to let him win so easily. Your hand slides down his chest, over the hard planes of his stomach, until you reach the unmistakable bulge straining against his pants.

"Seems like I'm not the only one affected," you taunt, squeezing him through the fabric. His breath hitches, pupils dilating further. "Look how hard you are. Is this what gets you off? Taking me in an alley like some common bitch?"

You stroke him firmly through his pants, feeling him twitch beneath your palm. A small wet spot forms where the tip of his cock presses against the fabric.

"You're one to talk," he hisses, hips involuntarily jerking into your touch. "You're the one who followed me here."

"And you're the one who can't control himself." You tug at his waistband, slipping your hand inside to wrap around his length. He's hot and hard in your palm, already slick at the tip. "So desperate. What would your little Mist friend think if she saw you now?"

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as you begin to stroke him with deliberate slowness. "She wasn't—"

"Save it," you cut him off, twisting your wrist in that way you know drives him crazy. "I don't care who she was. I care that you're here, cock in my hand, ready to fuck me against a wall where anyone could see us."

A groan escapes him as you increase your pace, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock. His forehead drops to your shoulder, breath coming in ragged pants against your skin.

"Maybe that's what you want," you continue, voice dropping to a sultry whisper as you squeeze his length. "You want everyone to see how pathetic you are."

His breath hitches as you stroke him faster, your thumb collecting the moisture beading at his tip to slick your movements. You can feel him throbbing in your palm, veins pulsing beneath hot skin.

"Look at you," you taunt, twisting your wrist in that way that always makes him shudder. "What happened to all that bravado with your little friend?"

"Shut up," he growls, but there's no force behind it, just desperation.

"Why? Does it embarrass you how badly you want to fuck me in this filthy alley?" You press your lips to his ear, your voice dropping to a whisper. "What kind of shinobi loses control like this? Getting so hard you can barely think straight?"

His hips jerk involuntarily into your hand, his breathing ragged against your neck. You can feel his control slipping with every stroke.

"You're no better," he manages through clenched teeth.

"Maybe not," you admit, "but you should go ask your little friend to finish the job.”

Something snaps in him then. His eyes flash dangerously in the dim light as he grabs your wrist, yanking your hand away from his cock. Before you can react, he pushes you back against the wall, and the sudden movement knocks the breath from your lungs.

"You want to play games?" He snarls, one hand tangling in your hair while the other roughly pushes your yukata up around your waist once again. "Fine, let's play."

You feel the cool night air on your exposed skin for only a moment before he presses against you, the hard length of him sliding between your swollen pussy lips. His hand leaves your hair to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse quicken.

"This is what you wanted, right?" He growls, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "To be fucked like a whore in an alley?"

You open your mouth to retort, but your words dissolve into a gasp as he pushes inside you with one brutal thrust. The stretch burns deliciously, your body still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. His grip on your throat tightens slightly as he begins to move, setting a punishing pace that has your fingernails digging into his shoulder for purchase.

"So tight," he hisses, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. "Always so fucking tight for me."

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the narrow space, barely masked by the distant festival music. Each thrust drives you forward, your breasts bouncing free as your yukata comes loose and exposes you fully. You wrap your legs around Suigetsu’s waist, pulling him deeper into you.

His teeth find your pulse point, the sharp edges grazing your sensitive skin before he bites down hard enough to mark you. The pain mingles with pleasure, making you cry out as your head falls back against the wall. Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging crescents into his skin as he continues his relentless pace.

"You're mine," he growls against your throat, his tongue soothing the sting of his bite. "Remember that."

One of his hands snakes between your bodies, finding your swollen clit. His fingers circle the sensitive bud with practiced precision, making your inner walls clench around him.

"Fuck," you gasp, your vision blurring at the edges as the dual sensations overwhelm you.

"That's it," Suigetsu murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I know exactly what you need."

His thumb presses harder, moving in tight circles that make your thighs tremble. The coil of pleasure winds tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any moment. His thrusts become more erratic, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with each movement.

"I can feel you getting close," he taunts, his fingers never ceasing their torturous rhythm. "So tight around my cock. Is this what you were thinking about while flirting with that vendor?"

You can't form words anymore, reduced to breathless moans as he drives you closer to the edge. The festival sounds fade into white noise as your senses narrow to just Suigetsu—his scent, his touch, the feeling of him stretching you open.

When the orgasm hits, it crashes through you like a tidal wave. Your back arches off the wall, inner walls pulsing around his length as waves of pleasure radiate outward. His name falls from your lips like a broken prayer, your body shuddering in his arms.

As you come down from your high, you notice the self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face. Those sharp teeth gleam in the dim light as he slows his pace, watching you with undisguised arrogance.

"What did I tell you?" He says, voice dripping with smugness. "No one makes you come like I do."

The afterglow evaporates instantly, replaced by fresh irritation. Even in this moment, he can't resist getting under your skin.

"Don't flatter yourself," you snap, shoving against his chest. "I could get the same from any halfway decent lay."

His eyes darken dangerously, pupils constricting to pinpoints. In one fluid motion, he pulls out and spins you around, pressing your chest against the rough brick wall. Before you can protest, he kicks your legs apart, his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you pinned.

"Any decent lay, huh?" He hisses, positioning himself at your entrance again. "Let's see about that."

He slams into you from behind, his hips snapping against your ass with brutal force. The rough brick scrapes against your palms as you brace yourself, trying not to cry out too loudly. He grips your hips with punishing fingers, pulling you back to meet each thrust.

"This is the only way to get you to behave, isn't it?" Suigetsu growls, his voice low and dangerous in your ear. "Bent over and taking my cock like the little slut you are."

You bite your lip to keep from responding, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But your body betrays you, inner walls clenching around his length as he hits that perfect spot deep inside you.

"Nothing to say now?" He taunts, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, yanking your head back. "Where's all that attitude gone?"

The new angle lets him drive even deeper, forcing a strangled moan from your throat. The distant sounds of the festival provide a surreal backdrop to your coupling—cheerful music and laughter while you're being thoroughly fucked in a shadowy alley.

"F-fuck you," you manage to gasp, the words lacking any real bite.

His laugh is dark and knowing. "That's exactly what's happening, sweetheart."

His hands move to your ass, kneading the flesh roughly before spreading your cheeks apart. The cool night air hits your exposed asshole, making you shiver. Before you can process what's happening, you feel something warm and wet land between your cheeks.

He's spit on you.

"S-Suigetsu," you stutter, uncertain if you're protesting or begging as his thumb presses against your puckered entrance, circling it teasingly.

"Let's see how mouthy you are with my cock in your pussy and my thumb in your ass," he says, voice thick with lust.

Your protest dies on your lips as he pushes his thumb past the tight ring of muscle, the initial burn quickly morphing into a forbidden pleasure that has your knees buckling. The dual sensation of being filled in both holes sends electric shocks through your entire body.

"Oh god," you whimper, forehead pressed against the cool brick as he begins to move his thumb in tandem with his thrusts.

"That's it," he croons, his free hand reaching around to circle your clit. "Take it all, baby."

The triple stimulation is too much. Your entire body trembles as a powerful orgasm builds rapidly, more intense than anything you've felt before. Your inner walls clamp down on his cock as waves of pleasure crash through you, vision blurring at the edges.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Suigetsu groans, his rhythm faltering. "I'm going to—"

His thumb presses deeper into your ass as his cock pulses inside you, hot spurts of cum filling you as he reaches his own climax. Your walls clench around him as your legs nearly give out, gasping as you milk his throbbing dick. He holds you up, supporting you as he whispers your name in your ear.

His hands hold up your waist as his head rests against your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. A brief silence broke out as you both attempted to catch your breath.

The bliss wouldn’t last, and you decided to be the first to cut through it.

“Isn’t now the usual time for you to fuck off?” You throw at him with a low voice.

You can feel him chuckle against you, his fingers roaming from your hip to where you were still connected; your swollen, dripping pussy still engulfing his softening length. He swiftly pulls out and replaces his dick with two fingers, entering you with an explicit squelch as he pushes his release further into you. His free hand flips you back over to face him as he withdraws his fingers and brings them before your face, displaying your wet mix of juices with a devious smirk on his face.

“For the next guy,” he winks as he dodges your slap.

[falloutrebellion]

Overgrown Part IV

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV.

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader

Prompt: Hokage Kakashi request

Summary: You served with Team Ro under Captain Kakashi in the ANBU Black Ops. Over time, the two of you had grown close, and your attraction was undeniable. However, fate led you apart when the Third Hokage assigned you to an indefinite infiltration mission into the Royal family of Kirigakure. You assume the identity of Lady Akari for the next eight years, enduring your new life as a court spy until you put a new successor on the throne. Now that your mission is complete, you can return home to the Leaf Village. But your past lover, Kakashi Hatake, is the new Hokage. Much has changed over the last eight years: His cold heart has warmed, yet yours has been trapped in darkness. Is there any chance he can love you as he once did?

Inspired by Overgrown- FELIVAND

Masterlist.

Tags: ANBU Reader, Reader with trauma, mentions of PTSD and trauma, canon typical violence, happy ending, slow burn, mutual pining, light angst, sorry but your parents are dead :(, future smut, fluff, flashbacks will be italicized, mentions of trauma, mentions of past sexual trauma, traumatic flashbacks, FLUFF

A/N: I'm so sorry for another delay- I had surgery and haven't been able to write, but I am back! Also, I just realized that this is burning slower than I intended but I wanted to make it super fluffy with an emotionally supportive Kakashi, SO with that being said, the next part is where the spice begins 😏

You woke up with your own cry caught in your throat, body rigid with terror, sweat drenching your borrowed shirt. For a moment, you couldn't remember where you were—the shadows in the unfamiliar room transformed into lurking enemies, and your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped animal.

The dream. Always the same dream.

You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to steady your breathing as the memories crashed over you like a tidal wave. Six years later, you could still smell the cherry blossoms, could still feel the silk of your kimono against your skin as everything fell apart.

You knew something was wrong the moment you entered the garden pavilion. The birds had gone silent, and the usual guards were missing from their posts. Three weeks earlier, your spy had discovered documents in Mitsuo's private study linking him to human trafficking in three different countries. You had been careful—so careful—but somehow, he must have noticed the seal had been broken and reset.

"Lady Akari," Mitsuo's voice came from behind you, smooth as silk but cold as steel. "What a pleasant surprise to find you here, alone."

You turned, forcing a serene smile onto your face despite the alarm bells ringing in your head. "Lord Mitsuo. I was just admiring your garden. The cherry blossoms are particularly beautiful this season."

He stepped closer, close enough that you could smell the sickly-sweet incense that clung to his robes. His eyes, usually warm with false affection, were calculating, assessing. "Indeed. Beauty can be so... deceptive, wouldn't you agree?"

You tilted your head, playing the naive noblewoman you had pretended to be for the past two years. "I'm not sure I follow your meaning, my lord."

"No?" His smile didn't reach his eyes, showing something darker underneath. "Perhaps I can make myself clearer."

He snapped his fingers, and suddenly the garden was filled with his personal guard—ten men emerging from behind trees and structures, all armed, all watching you with intense predatory focus.

Your mind raced. You could take down three, maybe four, before they overwhelmed you. But the moment you showed any shinobi skills, your cover would be blown—not just for you, but potentially for any other Konoha operatives embedded throughout the region. Your best course of action was to go with minimal fight, now that your unfortunate cards have been dealt.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, allowing a note of confusion and fear to enter your voice. Not all of it was feigned.

Mitsuo reached inside his sleeve and withdrew a small scroll—your coded message to Konoha that you had hidden in a hollow tree nearly three days ago.

Your stomach dropped.

"I've always admired your penmanship, Lady Akari," he said, unrolling the scroll with deliberate slowness. "Though I must say, your choice of cipher is rather... sophisticated for a nobleman's daughter."

"I don't understand," you said, your voice deliberately trembling as you took a step back. Your hands fluttered to your chest in a gesture of shock that you had practiced countless times before mirrors. "I have no idea what you’re talking about— that scroll isn’t mine.” You play dumb, knowing that it’s best to keep up the act and feign your innocence.

Mitsuo's smile turned cruel. "Come now, Lady Akari. We're beyond such pretenses, aren't we?"

You shook your head frantically, widening your eyes in panic. "There must be some mistake. Please, Lord Mitsuo—"

"Seize her," he commanded, and the guards moved in.

You let out a terrified shriek—not entirely acting—as you attempted to flee. Your movements were deliberately clumsy, nothing like the precision of your ANBU training. You stumbled over your elaborate kimono, making a show of tripping as two guards grabbed your arms and yanked you upward.

"Please! This is madness!" You cried out, struggling just enough to seem desperate but not skilled. "I am the daughter of Lord Hisoka! My father will hear of this outrage!"

Mitsuo approached slowly, savoring your performance. "Your father? If he is so worried about you, then let him come himself. Though I have a feeling no one will be coming to your rescue."

Ice spread through your veins. He'd been investigating you.

"Blindfold her," he ordered. "I don't want her mapping our route."

Rough hands forced a cloth over your eyes, plunging you into darkness. You continued to protest your innocence as they dragged you from the garden, mentally tracking your path through the compound. Three rights, one left, down a massive staircase, through what felt like a narrow corridor. The air grew colder, damper. Underground.

When they finally removed the blindfold, you blinked against the harsh torchlight of a stone chamber. Chains hung from the ceiling, and various implements lined the walls—tools whose purpose you understood all too well.

"Welcome to my private sanctuary," Mitsuo announced, removing his outer robe and handing it to an attendant. "Few have seen it. Fewer still have left it."

You maintained your frightened noblewoman act, though fear was becoming less of an act with each passing moment. "Lord Mitsuo, I beg you—"

The slap came without warning, snapping your head to the side. You tasted blood as your lip split against your teeth.

"Enough lies," he hissed, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. "Who are you working for? The Daimyo? A rival family?"

You let tears well in your eyes. "No one! I’m not working for anyone!"

His fist connected with your stomach, driving the air from your lungs. As you doubled over, gasping, the guards chained your wrists to the ceiling hooks, leaving you suspended against the wall as you struggled to breathe.

“I know you’re lying, girl. Why don’t you make this easier on yourself and just tell me everything. I promise to treat you well if you do.” He whispered harshly in your ear as you writhed in pain.

“I have nothing to tell you,” you spit.

“Fine.” He lands another blow to your gut, and your lungs burn as you fight to breathe again. “I’ll take my sweet time if I have to. Eventually, you’ll break. It’s inevitable. As I’m sure you’ll find my methods… rather convincing.” His hand wraps around your neck, squeezing tightly until your vision blurs. “I’m going to have some fun with you.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you find it damp with sweat as you slow your breathing. The moon was still out, and the patter of rain soothed you as you settled back into reality.

You slipped out of bed, your bare feet silent against the cool floorboards. The nightmare lingered like a film over your skin, making you feel dirty, contaminated. You needed water—needed to wash away the taste of fear that coated your tongue.

The apartment was bathed in shadows, but your eyes adjusted quickly, a skill honed through years of midnight escapes and clandestine meetings. You padded through the hallway, past the living room where Tenzo had sat with you earlier, laughing about memories as if a decade hadn’t nearly passed.

In the kitchen, you filled a glass and chugged it, the cold water a shock to your system. As you lowered the glass, you noticed a sliver of moonlight cutting across the floor—the balcony door was cracked open, rain pattering softly beyond it.

Curious, you moved toward it, instinctively muting your footsteps. Through the gap, you could see Kakashi leaning against the railing, his back to you. He was shirtless, wearing only loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Rain misted around him, dampening his silver hair, which was messier than usual without his headband to tame it.

More shocking was his bare face, unmasked and turned toward the sky. You froze, suddenly feeling like an intruder on something intensely private.

Before you could retreat, his shoulders tensed slightly. "Can't sleep?" He asked without turning, his voice low and rough with insomnia.

You pushed the door open wider, stepping out onto the slick balcony. "Nightmares," you admitted, moving to stand beside him. The rain was light, more of a mist than a downpour, cool against your feverish skin.

"Same," he said simply, still gazing out at the village.

You stole a glance at his profile, drinking in the features you had missed over the years—the straight nose, defined jaw, and lips that curved slightly at the corners even in repose. A thin scar ran along his lower lip, one you didn't remember from before. He was undeniably beautiful, his features sharp against the moonlight.

"You're staring," he noted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You didn't look away—you couldn’t bring yourself to. "You're not wearing your mask," you manage.

"No point when it's just us." He finally turned to face you, and you saw concern in his eyes as they traveled over your face. "You're pale. Bad one?"

"The usual," you said, wrapping your arms around yourself as a shiver ran through you. "Just Mitsuo and the garden. The beginning of what I thought was the end."

Kakashi studied you for a long moment, droplets of moisture clinging to his eyelashes. "Come here," he said finally, opening his arms.

You didn’t hesitate, stepping into his embrace and nuzzling into him the second he offered. His skin was cool from the rain, but warmed quickly where you pressed against him. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart as his arms held you firmly against him.

A moment of silence passed before you spoke up.”Thanks for letting me stay here. I honestly didn’t know what to expect when I returned.”

Kakashi scoffed while he smirked. “What? Did you think I was married with three kids?”

Looking up at him, you scrunched your nose and pulled away slightly, playfully slapping his chest. “As if. You have no idea how many times I heard the nobility complaining about your rejections to marry their ‘beautiful, obedient daughters.’”

He sighed with a gentle laugh. “Oh yeah, that’s just what I want. An obedient girl whose only skill is to look pretty.”

“Isn’t that every man’s dream?” You smirk at him deviously. “Oh my Lord, what big muscles you have.” You squeeze his firm bicep, looking up at him with doe eyes as a subtle grin comes across his face. “You sure look like you could save me from any big, bad ninja.” You step back to physically check him out with a cocked brow, taking in every ounce of his exposed form as Kakashi rolls his eyes, grabbing your waist to pull you back toward him.

“Eh, the noble ones just aren’t my type. I prefer my girls with a little spice.” He raised his brow as he met your eyes, as if insinuating something.

“Spice, huh? Whatever do you mean, my lord?” You rolled your tongue sarcastically.

“You know exactly what I mean, brat.” Kakashi chuckles as he pulls you flush against his chest, both hands coming to your hips. You smile against his damp flesh, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the hardened layers of muscles.

Though neither of you said anything, it was becoming more and more clear that your feelings for him were reciprocated. Though his touches were chaste, you could feel a longing within them for more. He didn’t appear to hide it either, as he did back in your ANBU days. Your relationship was then strictly behind closed doors, existing only in privacy.

But Tenzo was right, Kakashi has changed.

You’ve never seen him smile this much. He’s much more aloof, gentle, and understanding. No longer the brooding, strict Captain you used to know.

He’s happier.

And god, you had missed him, more than anything in the world. But to return to him like this almost made the time apart worth it. You want to ask him what changed— what softened his heart, but you’re not sure he would even know that answer. While you were living through court intrigue, he had left ANBU and resumed life as a jonin, eventually becoming a sensei, and perhaps that was it.

The Special Ops isn’t for the faint of heart; the missions can break you, piece by piece.

Especially when Lord Danzo was ruling in the shadows of the Third Hokage. He was cruel and ruthless, expecting the same of anyone in ANBU.

You can’t deny that learning of his death had pleased you.

“So, I uh, planned something for tomorrow.” Kakashi’s words pull you from your thoughts. You hum and peer up at him, signaling for him to continue. “We’re going to get dinner with a few friends. Word about your arrival has spread quickly, and many people are eager to see you.”

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” You tease with a kind smile, thrilled at the prospect of getting together with friends.

Kakashi’s cheeks flushed pink as he beamed down at you. “Yep, so dress to impress. We’re going to the nicest place in the village. Had to pull the Hokage card to get in.”

“Ooh, a fancy date? You spoil me, Kakashi.”

“Well, someone has to,” he says casually, as if the words came to him naturally.

You didn't know what to say. Heat rose to your cheeks as you stood there in his arms, the gentle rain misting around you both. His eyes traced your face with such intensity that you had to look away, overwhelmed by the sudden emotion building inside you.

"I missed this," you finally whispered, running your fingers along his bare chest, feeling the raised edges of old scars beneath your fingertips. His skin was warm despite the cool night air, and you felt his breath catch as your touch lingered over his heart.

Kakashi's hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing away a raindrop. "I missed you," he replied simply, the weight of eight years hanging in those three words.

The tension between you was palpable, electric. His face hovered so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you, and part of you desperately wanted him to. But something held you both back—perhaps it was too soon, too fragile, this reconnection you were building.

Instead, his forehead came to rest against yours, eyes closing as his fingers threaded through your damp hair. The intimacy of the gesture was almost more powerful than a kiss could have been.

"Come on," he said softly, taking your hand in his. "It's late, and you're shivering."

He led you back inside, sliding the balcony door closed behind you. The apartment was dark and quiet, but somehow felt more like home than anywhere you'd been in the last decade. Instead of heading back toward the bedrooms, Kakashi guided you to the living room, where moonlight filtered through the large windows.

He released your hand only long enough to grab a thick blanket from the back of the couch. With practiced ease, he settled onto the cushions and pulled you down beside him, wrapping the blanket around both of your shoulders like a cocoon.

"Better?" He asked, his arm slipping around your waist to draw you closer against his side.

You nodded and hummed in response, nestling into him for warmth. For a while, you sat together in comfortable silence, listening to the rain and the steady rhythm of his breathing. His fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, and you found yourself relaxing more deeply than you had in years, the nightmare's grip loosening.

"You should stay here tomorrow," Kakashi said suddenly, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Rest, get settled. I have meetings most of the day, but I'll come home early."

You tilted your head to look up at him. "I don't want to impose—"

"You're not," he interrupted gently. "This place has always been too empty anyway." His eyes met yours, sincere and unguarded in a way you rarely remember. "And when I get back, we'll have the whole evening to ourselves. Before dinner with everyone, I mean."

The promise in his voice made your heart flutter. "What did you have in mind?"

His lips curved into that crooked smile that had always been your undoing. "That's a surprise. But I think you'll like it."

You couldn't help but smile back, warmth spreading through your chest as you nuzzled back into him. “Alright, Kakashi, you’ve convinced me. I’ll clear my schedule just for you.”

“Yeah, okay,” he chuckles before pulling the blanket over your head as you playfully swat at him.

You yelped as you struggled to free yourself from the soft cotton prison. Kakashi laughed as you weaseled your way into his lap, attempting to use your legs as leverage. When you finally emerged, hair tousled and cheeks flushed, you narrowed your eyes at him in mock anger.

"You're going to pay for that, Hatake," you threatened, poking a finger into his bare chest.

"Oh?" His eyebrow arched in amusement, eyes crinkling at the corners. "And what exactly are you going to do about it?"

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. You lunged at him without warning, fingers seeking the spot just below his ribs that you remembered was ticklish. His eyes widened in surprise as you made contact, and he jerked away with a strangled laugh.

"No fair," he protested, grabbing for your wrists as you continued your assault. "You fight dirty."

"Always have," you reminded him, giggling as you dodged his attempts to capture your hands.

The playful struggle continued, both of you laughing like teenagers as you wrestled on the couch. For those moments, the years apart dissolved, and you were just the two of you again—not the Hokage and not the spy riddled with PTSD, but simply you and Kakashi, as you had been before.

Eventually, he caught both your wrists in one strong hand, using his weight advantage to pin you against the cushions. His face hovered above yours, laughter fading into something more intense as his eyes locked with yours. The air between you charged with electricity, your breath catching in your throat.

"I yield," you whispered, though neither of you moved.

Something vulnerable flashed in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and shifted, turning to lay his head on your chest as he settled between your legs. The sudden change in position surprised you, but you didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around him, one hand instinctively finding its way into his damp silver hair.

His weight felt right against you, solid and warm. You ran your fingers through his hair, marveling at its softness as you gently worked out the tangles. Kakashi sighed contentedly, his breath warm against your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"This okay?" He murmured, his voice already heavy with approaching sleep.

"Mhm," you hummed in assurance, squeezing your legs around him, continuing to stroke his hair as his breathing gradually slowed and deepened.

The rain continued its gentle patter against the windows as you cradled him, your fingers working through his hair in slow, soothing strokes. His breathing gradually deepened and slowed, his body growing heavier against yours. You realized he was falling asleep, the tension in his muscles melting away under your touch.

You studied his face in the moonlight, unmasked and vulnerable in sleep. The sharp lines of his jaw had softened, the perpetual alertness that characterized him in waking hours now replaced by peaceful surrender. His lips were slightly parted, and a lock of silver hair fell across his forehead. Without the mask, without the weight of his responsibilities, he looked younger—more like the man you'd fallen in love with all those years ago, before duty and distance had carved new lines into his features.

You held him closer, wrapping your arm more securely around his broad shoulders as the other cradled his head. His weight pressed you deeper into the cushions, but it felt right—comforting rather than restrictive. You'd forgotten how perfectly your bodies fit together, how natural it felt to hold him like this.

The familiar sensation triggered a memory, pulling you back to the first time you'd ever held him this way, many years ago.

It was after a particularly brutal mission, one that had left your entire team injured. You'd both made it back to his apartment, still in blood-stained gear, too exhausted to even shower. He'd collapsed onto his bed, and you'd simply lain beside him, both of you staring at the ceiling in silence. Then, without warning, he'd turned and buried his face against your neck, his body trembling with emotions he'd never allow himself to express in words. You'd pulled him close that night, just like now, and stroked his hair until the shaking stopped.

You pressed your lips gently against his forehead, brushing aside silver strands. His skin was warm and slightly salty from the earlier rain. You kissed his temple next, then the scar that ran through his left eye, tracing its path with feather-light touches. He didn't stir, his breathing remaining deep and even.

Your eyelids grew heavy as you continued to hold him, the rhythm of his heartbeat against yours lulling you toward sleep. For the first time in years, you felt safe enough to surrender to it, and you drifted off with your fingers still tangled in his hair.

But your plagued dreams were doomed to return—Mitsuo's face morphing into shadows that chased you through endless corridors. You were running, but your legs felt leaden, and somewhere behind you, someone was screaming. With a violent jerk, you snapped back to consciousness, a small gasp escaping your lips.

The living room was still dark, though pre-dawn light had begun to soften the edges of the furniture. Kakashi remained asleep on top of you, his face peaceful, unaware of your distress. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you tried to orient yourself, forcing slow, deep breaths to calm the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You'd only been asleep for an hour or two—typical for you these days. Since your imprisonment, you'd rarely managed more than a few hours at a stretch, your body and mind too conditioned to remain vigilant. The nightmares always came, dragging you back from whatever peace you might find.

Kakashi shifted slightly in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent as his arm tightened around your waist. The movement grounded you, reminding you where you were—who you were with. This wasn't Kirigakure. This wasn't Mitsuo's compound. This was Konoha.

Home.

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