#follow for more soft anbu

[trans-girl-uchiha-itachi]

*attempts to write shipfic, goes on a three-paragraph tangent about home renovation*

[vulpisnocturna]

hello <3 i hope you’re doing well! could i please request prompt 7 and 14 for Itachi? thank you in advance hehe

It would be my pleasure ;)

7: Power Imbalance

14: Rough Sex

Masterlist

Kinktober Day 2: Power Imbalance with Itachi

Warnings: power imbalance, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, creampie, no massacre au

You let out a slight huff as you listened to your Captain drone on about mission duties. You found him to be patronising. He wasn’t mean, he was quite polite, actually, but his tone reminded you of a teacher scolding a petulant child. You were no child, and though he might have been a more experienced ANBU and your Captain, you were still Lieutenant, and you weren’t weak by any means.

‘Are you listening to me?’ he quipped, smooth, deep voice slightly irked, as if he thought you immature.

‘Yes. You said follow orders. Got it’ you said, crossing your arms and staring at him. The room of the inn you were staying in for the night was cold, and your uniform did not provide much coverage.

‘I said that five minutes ago’ he lifted a dark eyebrow, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he was tired of you. 

‘Did the topic of your monologue change since then?’ you snapped, disliking his attitude. For someone so impassive, his irritation was sure seeping through the cracks of his calm façade.

‘I detect some hostility, paired with clear insubordination’ he said. 

‘Not to be rude, Captain, but it’s hard to respect you when you speak to me in such a patronising tone’ you said, aware that even though you had prefaced your sentence with that disclaimer, your tone would be considered rude. But you trusted your captain to be able to have a conversation around the weight of the argument and not rules.

‘It’s hard for you to follow my orders is what I am gathering from your tone- which is, once again, impudent’ he said, tapping his fingers on his toned bicep. You let out a sigh, rubbing your tired eyes.

‘I’m being honest here. If you want the teamwork, you gotta work for it’ you said, sure that by being more forward with your complaints you could make some steps in the right direction. Itachi was a reasonable guy, a patient one, even though you knew well not to push him too far. 

‘I see. I cannot have a subordinate who clearly revels in defying me. It could prove utterly dangerous in a mission’ he said, looking down at you. Your brow furrowed, and you swallowed, shaking your head.

‘You can’t fire me’

‘I am not going to fire you. I am going to teach you how to follow orders. Despite your… shortcomings, you are a capable kunoichi, and I cannot replace you. Therefore, you are going to have to learn’ he said, his face unreadable. Your lips parted, and you took a step towards him, overtaken by annoyance at him saying you had shortcomings but also butterflies in your stomach at the words that had followed his backhanded compliment.

‘What do you mean sh-‘ you started to say, but was interrupted when Itachi closed the distance between you and placed his hands on your waist, his head dipping to kiss your neck. You let out a soft gasp, your heart hammering in your chest as Itachi’s- your Captain’s lips pressed against your pulse point, tracing your artery to the junction of your shoulder and neck, where you could not contain a small whimper.

‘Captain, what-’ you breathed, your mouth dry as Itachi continued kissing, making you feel hot all over.

‘Do you trust your Captain? Or are you incapable of that too?’ he murmured against your ear, nipping at your lobe, ‘you need be taught a lesson on rules. I believe enjoyable lessons often lead to better results, considering my monologues do not seem to work on you’ 

You could not believe your ears. Itachi wanted his lesson to be delivered through fucking? Not that you would stop him, Gods, he was the most attractive man you had ever met, but how was this going to teach you how to follow mission rules?

‘I- trust you. But how is this going to help you?’ you whispered, your face growing hot as Itachi’s hand slid to your ass, cupping and squeezing.

‘That’s all I need to know. No more questions’ he said again, voice low and seductive, just before he turned you, wrapping his arms around you, sucking on your neck.

You let out a soft moan, pressing your ass against him, to which he chuckled.

‘The first thing you need to learn’ he drawled, one hand lifting to knead your breasts, ‘is patience. Until I say it’s time, you wait. Understood?’ 

You weren’t sure you were following him, but you nodded a little, and Itachi hummed in a satisfied tone, helping you take off your undershirt. He must have taken off his too, because your next contact with him was skin to skin. The pad of his fingers grazed your nipple, and you shivered, now rutting against the bulge in his trousers.

‘Stay still. Patience, pretty girl’ he said, pinching your nipple harshly when you didn’t listen to him and rolled your hips against him again. You whimpered, squirming, to which his teeth sank on your shoulder, making you moan loudly.

‘The more you disobey, the rougher I will get. And if you continue, I won’t let you cum’ he said, and you gritted your teeth, the pressure in your lower stomach growing along with your impatience.

Itachi was slow but deliberate as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, completely ignoring your lower body to the point where you thought you might implode soon. You tried to pull his hand lower, but he clucked his tongue, one hand squeezing your throat, long, willowy fingers pressing on the sides.

‘What did I just say? Lesson two: you ask me for permission. You do not act by yourself without my knowledge’ he said, and you closed your eyes, biting down on your bottom lip.

‘Can you touch me, Captain?’ you tried, hating the way you had to ask him to do it. And yet, at the same time, it was turning you on. The power he had, the control he had stripped from you in a matter of seconds…

‘Good girl’ he crooned, and you swore a small moan left your lips at his words. He yanked down your trousers, cupping you between your legs, applying some pressure.

‘See? It seems you enjoy obedience after all’ he said, dragging his fingers over your clothed cunt. Your hips twitched, and your face flushed at the humiliating comment. He slid his hand under your panties, two fingers easily pushing inside you. He curled them, and you stopped breathing for a second, a lewd moan pouring out of your lips as he found the perfect spot. 

‘Ahh- Captain…’ you breathed, one arm lifting to anchor yourself to his nape.

You started moving your hips into his hand, and his fingers curled on your hip, keeping you still.

‘I did say stay still, darling’ he said, pumping his fingers in and out, the palm of his hand rubbing against your sensitive clit, making you whine for him. 

‘Keep going- I’m close’ you keened, a distressed groan tearing through you as he stopped, slipping his fingers out of you.

‘Lesson three: what I say goes. You don’t call the shots’ he said, pushing you on the futon, taking off your trousers and soaked panties, taking off the remainder of his clothes and climbing on top of you.

He wasted no time, thrusting inside you, tearing a whine from you and a soft groan from him. 

‘Fuck- so tight’ he murmured, gripping your thigh, bottoming out and thrusting back in. 

‘Captain- fuck…’ you let out, your nails embedded in the pale skin of his upper back. He latched onto your neck again, sucking harshly.

‘Now, it will be rough, as a consequence for your behaviour in this mission’ he said, starting at a relatively slow pace, but his thrusts were deep, pressing against your g-spot and making you see stars and squeeze around him. You nodded, your eyes dazed as Itachi lifted one of your legs and quickened the pace, making it hard and fast, until tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes and your cunt was pulsing around him, a devastating orgasm washing you.

But he did not relent. He lifted your other leg, slamming his hips against you, letting out soft moans and grunts, the tip of his cock grazing your cervix, making you unable to speak or think, even when he released one of your legs in order to wrap his fingers around your throat once again. You could feel him everywhere, dragging along your walls, stretching you out, the slight upward tilt of his cock deliciously pressing against your g-spot in a way that made you lose your damn mind.

‘Ahh- I-tachi… Captain…’ you moaned, clawing at the blanket until your knuckles whitened and ached.

‘Lesson four: learn politeness. Now ask nicely’ he said relentlessly, the shadow of a smirk on his face, his eyes now red with his sharingan. You stared at him, entranced, your own eyes bleary and expression dazed from just how good it felt. 

And yet, you didn’t want to have to beg for it. Didn’t want to stoop that low, even if he was your Captain, even if he felt so good-

He slipped out of you, turning you on your stomach, lifting your hips up and spreading your thighs with his knee, sinking back into you, his hand fisting your hair and pulling as he smacked your ass hard. You whined, biting down on your lip.

‘Ask nicely, and I will let you cum’ he said, fingers digging in your hip as he continued to fuck you, though he was avoiding your g-spot on purpose, and in this position, his cock reached even deeper, felt even bigger.

‘Fuck- please, Captain’ you moaned, and he clucked his tongue, seemingly displeased.

‘Please what? Words, darling. If you can manage them’ he taunted, and you cursed, tears staining your feverish cheeks.

‘Please, let me cum, Captain. Want it- so bad’ you cried out, and immediately, he rewarded you with his fingers on your clit, deft and skilled, and you felt the band in your stomach tighten and snap, releasing. Your cunt clamped around his cock, throbbing with your orgasm, and you heard him moan softly, fingers pulling on your hair even harder -not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you whine filthily for him.

‘That’s a good girl’ he huffed out, his own voice sounding breathy, as though he was close, ‘where can I-’

‘Cum inside me- please… on the pill- inside me’ you stammered, still coming down from your high, and he lifted you up, wrapping strong arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a soft moan and spent himself inside you, pushing a few times before he stilled. 

He held you up, and you were grateful for it, unsure if you would have been able to stay upright if it weren’t for his arms.

He slipped out of you, helping you to lie back down as he leaned on his elbow, catching his breath. A minute later, he was already up, putting on a pair of trousers and disappearing in the bathroom. When he came back, he had a damp towel, which he used on your inner thighs, even after you told him you could clean yourself up.

‘Did you learn your lesson?’ he asked after you were both back in your clothes and lying down on the futon, and you turned to him in the dim light of the room, sucking in your lips to keep from grinning.

‘I’m not sure. Might need some revising’

[slut-4sasuke]

Day Dream (short)

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x Reader

Warning: SMUT!! teasing, light dom, finger play (i guess), f reader

Summary: Kakashi gets side tracked during a misson

Word Count: 579

A//N: Hiiiii!!! I’m excited for you guys to read it! I’m not 100% confident in my writing, but i do hope you enjoy.

Watching her squat on the tree branch in front of me, was of course my favorite view on any mission. Her pants were tight, but stretched perfectly around her figure. They clung to her ass and legs beautifully.

My hand massaging her ass as it sticks out perfectly in that stance. I stand right behind her admiring her body. I use my fingers to graze over her covered pussy. It was already damp and I could imagine her dripping wet folds, where my shaft should be, sliding through them coating my cock with all her juices. My fingers tease her clit while I let a deep groan, getting lost in my thoughts. She must have liked my sound because a soft moan then leaves her lips as she tries to keep balance. I move my hand back up her ass.

I wanna hear my name slip through her lips making me hum in pleasure. She can't have it, not yet. I want her to beg, beg for all she desires. She stays stuck, wishing she could have more. Squatting next to her I whisper, “stand up for me.” I stand after my own command waiting for her to follow. She stood in front of me, still facing away from me.

My hands moving up her beautiful body, admiring all of her. Her hips curved so nicely already and with her vest on, it only tightened her body creating such a beautiful hourglass figure. My hands come closer together as I go up her abdomen, feeling her figure. She acts like she doesn't want it, but her body tells me otherwise.

She didn't have to turn around for me to see her bust. It's at the point where her vest is tighter at the top from the fill. Moving my hands up to her chest, cupping her breasts and pulling her into my chest. My cock bulges out, tightening my pants, pressing onto her. I rest my head on her shoulder and whisper, “tell me (Y/N), if I wanted to push you against the nearest tree and fuck you senseless from behind, would you let me?” Her breath hitched in her throat and she gulped. “N-not h-here Kakashi,” she grabs my hands, pushing them closer to her. She lied and not very well. “If you want it you’re gonna have to ask.” My mask presses to hers as I whisper to her. Her head tilts back and she moans softly. I chuckle and take a deep breath, breathing her in.

Her desire to be pleasured was visible and sensible, but I want her begging me to please her. I slide one hand down her vest and into her pants. Both thighs were slick of wetness and her panties had a pool of sweet neediness. I push her panties to feel on her. I slide my finger over her clit and down her folds.

“Kakashi!” A loud whisper in my left ear. I jump and see she is no longer in my view, but next to me. I turn my head to face her kitsune ANBU mask. The slim features of the mask compliment her. “Yes (Y/N)?” I rest one hand under my mask on my chin. “I think we should move farther south, there hasn’t been activity in almost an hour.” “Patience is a virtue, love.” It just slipped out, but it had an effect on her. Her head tilted down and a small chuckle left her lips.

[luv-kakashi]

One of us is dead

chapter three | chapter five

chapter four - academy

"A genjutsu has blocked parts of her memories we're unable to navigate through them," said a blonde-haired ninja, "Though everything she told you so far checks out with the memories she has Lord Third."

"So she truly is an Uzumaki. She mentioned she moved to The Hidden Mist Village. Is this true Inoichi?" asked the Hokage.

"Her memories show her and a few clan members moving from Uzushiogakure to Kirigakure when she was young. However, there is about a year or two's worth of memories blocked from us. The furthest I can see too is her being taken to a room or a lab... Could it be that the Uzumaki is blocking us from seeing her memories?"

"I doubt that she can complete such a refined and powerful jutsu at such a young age," Kushina spoke up, breaking the very still silence, "Regardless, she is still a child, we must-"

"Do not let her age be an oversight Kushina. Children can be capable of anything. Look at that retched Uchiha. Shisui was it? The one who murdered his fellow teammate on the front lines. Do not talk of children as innocent beings. They are just as capable of destruction as we are," an elder spat with a look of disdain painted in his expression.

"Now, now Danzo. You mustn't judge our respected ninjas on baseless accusations," the Hokage remarked, "What else can you see in her memories Inoichi?"

"Y/N Uzumaki... she's a deeply damaged child," Inoichi admitted, "Her family, her experience in the academy in Kirigakure..., none of it is fitting for a child."

"I see," sighed the Hokage, "Regardless, she needs to be monitored whilst she is here in the village. Not to mention, we still do not know if there are any other Uzumaki's in the same position as her, or if they're alive even. And we still don't have a definitive reason as to why Y/N Uzumaki is on the run, more specifically who captured her and why."

The room becomes enveloped in silence. It was almost stifling as the suspicion settled in their minds.

"I'll see to it that an anbu member is dispatched to follow her, dismissed." The Hokage exclaimed as he dismissed the jounins from the meeting and sat back in his chair, leaving a single red-haired kunoichi with him.

Just who was Y/N Uzumaki? Who took her captive? Why are her memories blocked? 

"Lord third, is it okay if Y/N gets put on my team? We're one member short, you know, and I would love to give the poor girl some closure. She's an Uzumaki! And besides I refuse to-"

"I understand Kushina," the hokage interrupted, "I planned for her to join your team, being with another Uzumaki might give her some closure."

"Thank you Lord Third!"

By the time I made it to my apartment after my run-in with Zetsu, dawn had already broke in Konoha and sleep crept its way over my body. But that doesn't matter as long as I am with her.

Sumire leaned back in her chair, eyes half closed, letting her memories wash over her as she played with my hair.

"Do you remember," she began, her voice barely louder than a whisper, "the summer before I started at the academy, when we played in the attic pretending like it was our own world? We thought we were so smart, hiding from everyone, like no one could see us.""

"Of course I do! We used to drag every pillow and blanket in sight just to make a fort. Stay up late with a flashlight and you'd tell ghost stories, and I would always end up too afraid to sleep." I remarked as nostalgia filled the air around us.

Sumire chuckled at the memory, shrugging with a playful grin as she pinched my cheek, "I don't think I ever scared you. You were always the braver one."

We fell into a comforting silence as we listened to the evening cicadas hum their songs.

"I quite liked our little attic world," she said after a while, her voice soft and gentle as though the precious memory would shatter at any moment if she uttered those words any louder, "you, me and our little attic wor-."

The morning songs whistled by the birds drew me back to reality. I am no longer the innocent, naïve girl who can run up to her attic and pretend that this sick, twisted reality doesn't exist.

Oh well, this is going to be harder than I thought but for now all I can do is play the part of a girl on the run from a kidnapper whose missing her parents.

How ironic.

"SHIT! I'M GOING TO BE LATE!" I yelled as I tried to shove my shoes on, tripping whilst doing so.

I rushed out of the door before hitting the railing of the apartment sidewalk. Sprinting down the stairs, I prayed to Kami that with some divine intervention I'd make it to the academy on time.

I ran through the halls and stood outside my classroom, listening in on the chatter and gossip between the other kids.

Perhaps this is my chance to start anew. A chance to have a normal childhood.

Taking in a deep breath, I slid the door open as the teacher greeted me, "Hello, I'm Kisuke sensei. Everyone, meet your new classmate."

"I'm Y/N Uzumaki. Please treat me well and I hope we can all get along." I said a bit too excitedly as I bowed down in front of my classmates.

I hoped on making a good impression them yet it must seem that the stars do take enjoyment in my failures as I tripped on the first step towards the desks.

Kami, just eat me alive.

At this point I'd rather be 7 feet under the ground then at the academy.

And of course, luck just wasn't on my side today.  The stifling silence was ripped by a multitude of laughs and jeers.

"Oh Kami, she just tripped!"

"How did she miss the step that's right in front of her?"

"Good luck becoming a shinobi with those reflexes." The children jeered, mocking the way I fell over, pointing out every single insignificant detail about the way I look and talk.

Kiri kids were nothing like this; they were much worse. Had I done this in Kirigakure, I would have been physically tormented. Just thinking about it makes my scars ache.

"IDIOTS! You all act as if you've never tripped before in your lives and besides did you just not hear who she is? She's from a famous shinobi clan. And to think you're going to graduate and become successful shinobi. You might just have more luck becoming a mute donkey but that would be an insult to all the mute donkey in the world! So shut it! You're ruining my sleep!" a voice yelled, annoyed by his petty classmates.

"Now, now Akira, no need to insult your peers like that. AND STOP SLEEPING IN MY LESSONS!"

Before he could yell a string of profanities, the Akira boy held his tongue before letting out a barely audible 'Hn'.

What a bipolar child.

He shouts snarky remarks yet his vocabulary seems as broad as a toothpick. Interesting.

"Apologies Y/N-chan. And for that lovely public display, Y/N chan is going to tail you for the rest of the day so she gets a feel for academy life." Kisuke sensei retorts as he points to a now sleeping Akira, who has his head between his arms, "Don't you dare ignore me young man!"

"Whatever." Akira yawned as he waved his hand lazily.

"Please take a seat by Akira Kuran whose over there, Y/N chan." Sensei said pointing his finger to a now sleeping boy.

I slowly made my way to the sleeping child. His demeanor was amusing to say the least but I can't break out of character; remember who you are, a runaway, a nothing. As I took my seat next to the very clearly disinterested  Akira, I heard him mumble something into his arm loud enough for the both of us to hear.

"Donkey"

The academy -to say the least- was uneventful. Children learning about chakra, its natures and control. Children were only learning them now at age 12. Did kids in Konoha have it this easy?The village hidden in the mist subjected every young child to violence and pain. The village was  heralded as the 'blood mist village'.

By age 8 I was forced to fight against the children I spent the last 5 years of my life with. Forced to mercilessly kill my friends for the prospect of graduating the academy.

"Psst Akira! It's time for lunch." I whispered, chuckling at his half sleepy state.

"Huh? Guess it's time to go sleep under the tree then" he muttered as he sluggishly dragged his legs down the steps, stopping a few centimeters into the corridor. I followed him through the academy halls before I knocked onto his back, falling onto the floor during the process.

"You know, when I called you a donkey, I didn't think you'd take it to heart and start following me like one."  He chuckled before turning around to give me a hand.

"Jerk! You're supposed to be my guide." I said as I turned my head away from his gaze, pouting towards the wall.

"Pout any longer and your lip will reach the floor, donkey." he laughed, still holding out his hand for me. I reluctantly took his hand and stood up. We made our way through the academy training grounds until Akira stopped and lied down on the grass under the tree.

"What are you doing?" I asked

"Learning how to fly. What do you think I'm doing? I'm watching the sky."

"I can see that Bakakira. Why aren't you eating lunch?"

"Meh I'm not hungry."

"Well, let's see why you enjoy watching the sky." I said as I lied down, letting the soft grass cushion my back, "I must admit the skies here are much prettier than the skies back in the hidden mist village, whether it be the blue skies of the day or dusk or dawn or even midnight, the skies always make me feel at peace."

"I used to watch the skies with my dad every day when I was younger and I love to still do it now. I feel like I can connect with him this way."

"I think that's quite admirable, Akira-kun.  Watching the skies gives me some sort of comfort, it is constant which gives me hope that things will get better."

"I'm glad you are staying hopeful during this. I heard what had happened, my mum serves as an elite bodyguard to the hokage, I hope you find your family soon."

"That means a lot Akira-kun, thank you."

"Of course, nothing I wouldn't do for a friend." He said as he turned his head to face mine and smiled.

"Who knew Akira-kun had a lil soft side to him." I chuckled

"Way to ruin the moment donkey."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Suspicion brews amongst the elite shinobi as Y/N Uzumaki starts Academy life.

And although the floor naturally calls her name, Y/N has found company with the ever-so sarcastic Akira.

How will she adapt to her new life?

(I hope you are enjoying the story so far!) Loving you always, Suri🎀

[lemony-snickers]

Tenzo×gn!reader for #17 first kiss please!

Tenzo wiped his palms on his thighs, hoping the nervous sweat from them wouldn't leave too obvious a mark on his uniform pants. He knew he shouldn't be so nervous, but it was impossible to tamp down the unfettered excitement bubbling up in his chest.

He'd waited for today for a long time.

"Tenzo?"

He spun around so fast he almost tipped over. Had he really been so preoccupied with his own thoughts he hadn't heard you coming?

He sputtered your name in a nervous, jumbled half-shout, grateful when your response was only a soft chuckle at his expense followed by, "Sorry I startled you."

One of his clammy hands went to the back of his neck, scratching his nape nervously. "It's fine," he said, "I was just a little lost in my thoughts."

Thoughts involving you, but he wasn't about to admit that.

You fell into step beside him easily, and Tenzo kept his hands clasped behind his back as he walked, all too aware of that same clammy perspiration on his palms, a result of his nerves. Wasps waged for dominance in his stomach and he was suddenly very grateful he hadn't invited you out to dinner tonight because he was sure whatever he tried to eat now was destined to make its way immediately back up his esophaugus.

You made smalltalk as the two of you wandered through the more densely populated parts of the village. All the while, Tenzo remained keenly aware of your proximity, the way your shoulder bumped his sometimes, your hand grazing his thigh as it swung at your side.

His anxiety spiked with each meaningless touch, the courage he had worked so hard to cultivate before seeing you dissipating in a frenzied swirl of emotion.

The two of you had gone on a couple of "dates," though he wasn't sure that was the exact right term. Tenzo didn't know whether taking walks around the village together counted as dating, exactly, and he was too embarrassed to ask anyone.

Of course, the two of you had eaten dinner together once at the shushu-ya, but that had mostly been accidental; a byproduct of the insisten rumbling of both your stomachs when you returned from a mission at the same time and found one another in the ANBU locker room.

"Would you like to grab something to eat?" you'd asked, "I'm starving."

He'd been all too eager to say yes, so excited to sit across from you and watch your face light up as you talked about your mission that he'd nearly forgotten to replace his happuri when he finished changing.

And the attraction he felt had only grown stronger since. Tenzo thought it seemed like you were seeking him out more often, though he couldn't be sure. He'd read somewhere once that coincidence was often a trick of the mind; when you wanted something, your brain focused on it more, heightened your awareness of it.

Maybe it seemed like you were spending more time with him only because Tenzo wanted it to be true.

But he'd resolved to ask you outright today whether that was the case; to dissolve any lingering doubt so he could ask the question which had been sitting on his tongue for weeks--"Would you like to pursue a relationship with me?"--with some reasonable surety of your response.

There was probably a more romantic way to ask that question, now that he thought about it, but Tenzo believed being straightforward in this instance would suit him best.

By the time the two of you had left the busiest streets of Konoha behind, Tenzo had managed to somehow increase the anxious feeling buzzing within him rather than quell it.

What a mess. How was he supposed to ask you anything when his brain felt so fuzzy and overwhelmed?

Resolute in his plan, however, Tenzo knew he couldn't back down. So he came to a stop at the place he had decided on earlier in the week; a somewhat hidden spot off the beaten path that overlooked the river.

It was private and, he thought, at least a little romantic with the setting sun casting gilded rays across the rippling suface of the water.

He took a long, slow, deep breath to steady himself and then turned to look at you. Tenzo felt an icy shock when he saw that you were already watching him intently, mouth curled in a soft smile and gaze far too intense for him to remain calm.

He cleared his throat. "I--"

That was as far as he got before the wasps resumed their torment of his insides and Tenzo felt the prickling of sweat against his temples, droplets running down the sides of his face beneath his happuri.

He clenched his fingers more tightly behind him and tried again. "What I mean to say is, I really enjoy spending time with you."

Okay. Well, that was supposed to come at the midpoint of his speech but Tenzo's thoughts were so jumbled he didn't think he could remember most of it, anyway, so maybe starting int he middle was for the best.

"And I... well, I had hoped that maybe..."

He couldn't finish his sentence. What if he was wrong? What if you didn't see him that way? He turned away, the mortificaiton of rejection clawed its way up his throat with such insistence he thought he might retch even though he'd forgone dinner on purpose.

"Tenzo."

He faced you again, "Ye--"

The word never had a chance because suddenly you were leaning so close Tenzo could see the hundreds of colors dancing in your irises, could count the eyelashes framing them, and then your hand was on his chin and you were closing your eyes and you were leaning so close and--

Your lips were soft against his, moving gently and molding to his own. He tensed, shoulders and neck going rigid, wide eyes still open. He forced them closed, forced himself to focus on the sensation of your mouth on his, your fingers, dancing across the ridge of his jaw, drawing him subtly closer.

Tenzo wondered if all kisses felt this way. The wasps in his belly dispersed, replaced with something still fluttery but gentler.

When you pulled away, Tenzo followed you instinctively, accidentally bumping his nose against yours. His eyes flew open, cheeks burning, "Ah! Sorry!" he said, taking a step back.

But you just smiled at him, eyes dancing, lips wet and a little swollen. "It's fine, Tenzo."

He stared at you, wondering how he'd gotten as lucky as this. The sun dipped below the horizon, taking its gilded light with it and bathing the river bank in deep, luxurious indigo.

"I don't know about you," you said, "but I'm pretty hungry. Any chance you'd like to get dinner with me?"

Tenzo swallowed, his question still lodged in his throat. Had your kiss meant what he thought it did?

"I--" he started, "Uh, yes." He looked at your feet, unable to continue meeting your eyes.

"Come on, then," you said softly, so close now he could feel your breath as it fanned over his face.

He startled when one of your hands reached behind his back and tugged one of his own free, lacing your fingers together with his and gentling pulling him back toward the village.

Tenzo's face was still aflame by the time you got to the restaurant, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the realization which hit as you'd taken his hand.

Your palms were sweating, too, your fingers trembling as you'd pulled him to your side.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who'd been nervous, despite your seemingly relaxed appearance. Tenzo smiled as you slid into a booth, dragging him in beside you instead of letting him escape to sit across the table.

"I hope you don't mind," you said against his ear.

Tenzo shook his head. He most certainly didn't, especially not when you followed those words with a swift kiss to his cheek.

Suddenly, he was starving.

[princessxgarbage]

Happy ShiSaku Week!!!

Day 7(I know it's a lil late) @shisakuweek

Title: Surrender

Prompt: (sorry) Murder

Warnings: YES (character death, murder, blood, violence, ANGST)

Words: 2,282

Read on AO3

What a shit job. The estate was quiet in the night, just the silent shuffle of the regular guard and the occasional snap of a deer scare to fill the void. Nothing about the preliminary outline of this job he'd accepted had suggested he'd have any trouble finding his target, let alone have to follow them back to a guarded estate. He should have realized the payment promised for what was labeled as 'simple assassination' was too good to be true.

He'd been scoping the place for a few nights now, he knew when the guards changed, he knew the exits, the layout, he knew exactly where she should be. His weapon was ready; the poison, the antidote. It wouldn't be easy to get to her though, not with the amount of obstacles to get through. 

Maybe he should rethink the importance of actually finishing this job. He could just leave now, call the whole thing quits. Head back to their rendezvous point and maybe get to spend some time together for once before they had to go and find separate jobs again. It was the vicious cycle they'd been caught in for years now. Both of them having cut their ties to their village, him after nearly being dragged into a massacre, losing an eye, and finding out it was all sanctioned by the Hokage himself, her after discovering the truth of it years later. And then that they'd found each other after he'd been in hiding for so many years– happenstance. The odds they'd stay together, laughably small. 

It had been almost two months since they'd seen each other. Had always been safer to take different jobs in separate places. All he wanted was to keep his head down. He was a missing-nin with more than just the average ANBU after him. At this point he hoped they thought he was dead. Really, truly, dead. But he knew if the wrong person spotted him out in the world, they'd be after him faster than he could prepare himself and Sakura to get away. He refused to use his Sharingan anymore. The weapon he was born with, his most recognizable trait. The most feared aspect of himself, that would always scare people away from him. He managed to scare them away well enough without it. He attributed some of that to the scars he carried and the cloth headband he wore to cover the gaping void that once held his eye. His hair was no longer soft and short, it was outgrown, roughly cut and roughly kept. It was harder for him to smile these days. It was fine, he didn't need to be approachable. In fact, he tried not to be. 

Sakura, however, was adored in every village she stopped in. Sometimes she offered protection, sometimes she offered them cheap medical care, usually in exchange for room and board only. She was loved and protected by them. They regaled her as a hero. 

He was just her shadow. 

Not a constant one, one that appeared on the rarest of nights. There was always mentions of the pink-haired doctor saving people, he could track her on rumor alone. Seizing every chance he had to cross paths with her. Slipping in when she was finally alone, raising her alarms so she knew he was there. The game of cat and mouse they'd always play as she pretended he was a true intruder, before laughing and dropping the pretense entirely in favor of trading rushed kisses and reminding each other why it was all worth it. 

They worked apart so they could stay together. They were both wanted criminals, both wanted for the crime of demanding justice and being refused. No one they'd met in their travels would ever turn Sakura in, and he was protected by proxy. He wished he could always stay by her side, he had dreams of staying in one place, growing a garden; having a home again. Someplace she could treat patients safely without the risk that their discovery would ruin everything. But that's all they were, dreams. His only skill was killing, The Leaf made sure of that.

And so he killed. 

He killed for money. He killed for justice. He killed because it was all he'd ever known.

And here he was, ready to kill again.

It was time to move, the current guard was growing tired and reckless. The new guard would cycle in soon. He had plenty of time to slip past their fading defenses before the fresh faced, bright-eyed replacements took their places. 

He knocked out a few of them on his way to the inner sanctum of the estate, stashing away their sleeping forms quickly so they wouldn't be discovered before he could get out of there. He kept out of sight as he worked his way in to the east inner gardens. The target was some noble man's daughter, that truth only evident now as he found his way to her rooms. He wove a quick genjutsu over the shoji door before he slipped inside. 

There was a personal attendant sleeping nearby on a small, comfortable futon. Without taking another step forward, he quietly placed a second genjutsu over the girl to assure she wouldn't hear anything amiss or wake up anytime soon. 

Quickly, he moved to the larger, more extravagant bed in the center of the room. In the center of the mattress, surrounded by pillows and silk sheets lay his target. A young, seemingly helpless woman. He imagined sighing at the ridiculous notion of himself, a trained assassin, standing over the sleeping body of a delicate, nobly raised, helpless woman. This was the job, however. Perhaps he could convince himself she was horribly evil and the world would be better without her. 

It didn't matter. 

He took a silent step forward, drawing his weapon, coated in a poison designed by Sakura for him specifically. 

Then, beyond reason, she stirred. 

Was there a trap he hadn't noticed? Some sort of signal he triggered to alarm her? He cursed himself inwardly, loathe to admit that if he'd been using his sharingan a simple alarm system would not have slipped his notice. No point in using it now, he figured. He swiftly moved out of her line of sight and froze. When she moved to sit up instead of returning to sleep, he cursed himself again.

"Matsu-san?" She whispered. Probably the attendant's name. Hopefully she doesn't expect an answer.

When no answer came, she pulled the sheets back and made to rise from the bed. Shit, just my luck.

Once she was standing he delayed no longer, stepping forward and slicing his nocuous blade through her back, directly through her lung. 

A slick gasp escaped her lips as he withdrew his weapon from her flesh. Shock seemed to overtake her as she turned around to look at the face of her murderer. 

He was not expecting to see recognition wash over her.

She fell forward and he was forced to catch her in his arms, silently lowering her to the tatami. She pressed a hand to her bleeding chest, then pulled it away to look down at the blood. She was confused by its presence, but moreso confused by his. She reached her bloody hand out and clutched tight around the fabric of his uwagi. 

She suckered out a wet sort of wheeze as she tried to speak but the only thing that slipped from her mouth was a small flow of blood. He watched it drip down her chin and grabbed her by the wrist to try and pry her hand away from his chest. Her breathing was hastened, panicked, and stilted as her lungs began to fail her. She tried to speak again, her voice curdled and choking on blood.

"Shi–"

He hesitated and looked into her pleading eyes. She couldn't possibly know him, the idea was absurd. She must have been calling out to death itself.

She shakily rose her left hand, keeping the right still clenching onto him like he would be her last life line. He moved to stop her movement by grabbing that wrist as well. She still managed to form the seal for release, and the henge slipped away.

Long onyx tresses drew back into short, pink hair. Charcoal eyes brightened into jade. A sharp purple diamond appeared on her forehead. Her nose and lips changed shape into something too familiar, something he wished he wasn't recognizing.

"No– What! Sakura–?!" 

The panic was clear in his voice in a way he hadn't expected. He knew the poison she'd created for him was a strong paralytic and de-coa–something– crap! He should have paid closer attention. He could see and feel the poison taking effect as he scrambled to hold her trembling hand over her wound for her.  

"Sakura, I'm so sorry– your jutsu, use your jutsu, please!" Shisui cried softly, keeping his voice low while in the dangerous setting they were still in. 

Why was she here? He was reeling at the circumstances that allowed them to take jobs opposing each other without even realizing.

Her hand started to glow a dim mint green over her chest. He slipped his arm around her and tried to keep pressure to her back, where the wound started. The sudden movement caused her to cough slightly, and blood spluttered from her lips and onto his neck. He could feel the blood from her back pouring over his hands and he could do nothing to stop it. 

He knew he had to stop the effects of the paralytic before it took hold completely and she ceased to be able to heal herself. He tried to remember the traits she listed of her quickest working poisons as they sat in her little home-made lab and she excitedly rambled on. Cursing her for designing poisons that were always too efficient, he released his grip on her left wrist and fumbled around his supplies for the antidote she'd provided for him. Panic started taking over when he couldn't seem to find it. 

"Where is it, where is it, where– fuck!" he cursed, voice raising louder than it should, given where they were and what he'd come here to do. He glanced at the futon where the maid (who was likely not an actual maid, he realized belatedly. If Sakura had been a decoy, she was likely his true target) was still sleeping, his genjutsu still in place. Small mercies. 

As gently as he could, he removed his hand from her back and laid her down on the soft woven floor. When her back hit the mat, she let out a painful squelching hiccup and her entire body convulsed once. 

In an adrenaline powered panic, he ripped his supply pouch from his belt and poured the contents next to them onto the ground. The blood was creeping further and further away from Sakura's body, saturating the tatami entirely as he hurried through his belongings. He couldn't help but keep looking to Sakura as he searched, eye flitting back and forth between her paling face and the pile of supplies. Her hair was completely damp with sweat, and the petal-pink was darkening to red where the back of her head met the floor. Her jade eyes were flickering open and shut as she tried her hardest to breathe and stay awake. She was watching him scramble about for the antidote, eyes wet with fear. He found the small capped syringe that held the antidote as he noticed the light fading from her eyes, followed by the light fading from her hands. 

He ripped the cap off with his teeth, and jabbed the needle into her jugular vein, like she'd taught him. 

Her body was stock-still. 

He tossed the syringe aside and held both sides of her face, the blood on his hands smearing across her cheeks. He moved to rest his knees on the ground, but the horrible squish of wet tatami made him pull back. His eye widened as he realized just how much blood pooled below Sakura. He focused back on her face.

Hovering above her now, he leaned his forehead against hers. There was no more chakra emanating from her fingers. Every breath she took sounded like wading through a bloody swamp. He cursed. He did this. 

"Sakura, please."

She had no answer.

"I'm sorry."

She'd lost too much blood.

"I love you."

She was gone.

Shisui removed his hands from Sakura's face. He reached for a single shuriken where it lay scattered amongst his belongings. 

He threw it immediately into the temple of the girl sleeping on the nearby futon. Killing her before she could make a sound.

He dispelled any genjutsu he'd woven on his way into this accursed place.

He reached down to scoop Sakura's limp body into his arms. He stood and brought her to the bed, placing her softly on the silk sheets, uncaring that the blood would never leave them. He crawled into the bed behind her, leaning against the ornate headboard, and pulled her back into him. He cradled her close as she turned cold, not caring that the bedframe dug into his back uncomfortably. He didn't deserve comfort. 

He settled in with her back to his chest, aware that the blood from her wound was no longer gushing out of her, but spilling mildly onto him. Burning him despite its weak temperature. He wrapped one of his arms low around her waist and held her tight. Then brought his other hand up and tangled it into her bloodstained hair, pressing their faces together. He cried.

And he waited for them to find him.

[dellalyra]

ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ {.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}𝘬𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦

𓆩♡𓆪 A/N: this was such a fun submission and my first time writing for Kakashi so I hope it's okay!! As always, check out the masterlist for more and if you're under 18 - buzz off, you're responsible for your own media consumption and this is a mature content blog. Ily all <3

𓆩♡𓆪 Summary: A case of mistaken identity at the spring leads to some fortunate revelations.

𓆩♡𓆪CW: Smut, smut, lots of it, just lots of sex, sexy jutsu, cursing, fem!reader, mentions of weapons.

The water soothed your aching joints in seconds, dry skin – sunburn and all – floating away with the soft ripples of the water. You could hear the soft trickle of taps and the sounds of a nearby nightingale. The warm, early summer air brushed against your skin. All alone in the hot spring, you finally felt calm. You last mission in the Hidden Sand had really taken it out of you, the summer heat, the nightmare opponents you faced and the seemingly endless stream of missions you’d been on had really taken its toll, but now, you had a whole month off. Tsunade insisted every six months, a Jonin got a month off, and 2 weeks every 3 months for ANBU members. As you begin to plan all the things you want to do for the next month (sleep, mainly) you rise from the water, steaming tendrils following your skin. You’re alone, so you don’t need a towel right now and the balmy air feels incredible on your bare skin. You loose your hair from its clip-on top of your head and let it tumble down your back as you rake your hands over your scalp.

As you bend over to reach for your towel, a metallic ‘whizz’ swishes past your ear and clatters on the wall. Turning to the collision point, your heart stops. The discarded Kunai was lodged in the plaster of the wall.

Just one night.

That’s all you wanted.

And preferably to not have to fight anyone nude.

“Alright, who’s there? If you’re gonna fight me then c’mon, I wanna get home.” You say into the night.

“Oh shit.” You hear coming from behind the door. Wait, you know that low timbre.

“Kakashi?” You ask, now wrapping your soft towel around your bare figure.

“Wait? Y/N?” The voice replies, and out comes the suspect – hand covering his one exposed eye.

“Mind telling me why you’re tossing kunai at me at 2am in the hot spring?” You say, sitting on a nearby rock.

“Not really.”

“We’ll, you’re gonna.”

“I – uh – shit.” The visible tips of his ears were bright red.

“Wait – were you spying on me? What the fuck Hatake?” He must have seen everything if he threw that kunai at you.

“Jesus, no! Who do you think I am – Jiraiya?!” Everyone knew of the Sanin’s ‘bathhouse visits.

“You got a lot of explaining to do then!”

“Or – how about we forget this ever happened?”

“No.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

You noticed he was crouched funny on the tree branch he had perched on, head facing down, and he kept adjusting his mask.

“I was coming for a bath because nobody comes out here this late, so I can take off my mask. Then, I – saw there was someone there and thought…” He knew he had to tell you the truth, he didn’t want the girl he’d been in love with since he was 12 to think that all the Icha-Icha had turned him into a peeping Tom.

“Thought what? That maybe some late-night attempted murder would be fun?!”

“No!”

“Then what!”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you!”

“Then why did you throw a kunai at my damn head!”

“I thought you Naruto was here!”

“You thought I was NARUTO?!”

“Shit, Y/N, I thought you were his Sexy Jutsu!”

You pause. Stomach dropped.

Kakashi looked as if he’d die.

“Wait? What?”

“You heard me.”

“Get down here.”

If he thought you, in all your naked glory, had been Naruto’s jutsu – such an embodiment of beauty that it rendered enemies bleeding – oh my god. The head tilt, the mask.

He had a nosebleed.

Kakashi thought that you were so sexy, that you couldn’t be real.

The man – who you had been in love with since you were 11 – got a nosebleed from seeing you naked.

He dropped down from the branch, silent as a panther.

He had his head tilted to look at the sky and honestly, you were surprised this man hadn’t disappeared into a puff of smoke. He was pretty awkward, had been his whole life. Like a stray cat, you always thought.

You took a step closer.

It’s now or never.

The confidence you felt seeping through your very blood was something you’d never felt before. You felt electric. The Copy Ninja, Son of the White Fang, Master of a Thousand Jutsu’s, Chidori creator – had been rendered essentially useless and a puddle of a man all because of your bare skin.

The thought of him feeling so enamoured by you sent pure blazing heat between your thighs.

You wanted him.

You wanted him to ruin you.

You stepped closer.

“You mean that, ‘Kashi?” You ask, voice low and airy with want and awe.

He just stares into your eyes, his pupils taking in your lust-blown ones.

You wanted him.

He was going to ruin you.

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He says, fingers dipping to hook under your chin and tilt your face to look up at him.

Only in this proximity did you realise the sheer difference between you, he dwarfed you. His broad shoulders engulfing you in shadow, moonlight draping across his silver hair like silk.

“You know… you should probably make sure I am real.” You bat your lashes at him.

“And how would I do that?”

“Touch me.”

With that, he wraps one arm around your waist and weaves his fingers through the hair at the back of your head, pulling you in flush with his solid body.

You could already feel him, even through his tac trousers, his whole body – hot and hard.

“Say it again.” He almost growls, and you almost fall apart on the spot.

“Touch me, ‘Kashi. Please.”

“Fuck, sweetheart - you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that” He mumbles, lithe fingers tracing your curves.

“Then stop fucking around. I thought you were a man of action?” You tease.

“Oh, I’m planning on fucking around a lot more.” He smirks, the curve of his lips visible through the mask. He spots your eyes flitting down to his lips and he hooks a finger into his mask.

13 years of friendship and you had only seen him without his mask once, and that time, he was covered in blood as you attempted to heal him.

But fuck, was it worth the wait.

He barely gave you a second to think and admire, before his still-smirking lips came crashing onto yours. He tasted like heaven, the salt of sweat and something sweeter making you whimper into his mouth. His scent too, it’s encasing you completely – salty, fresh soap, and something woodsy that you don’t have the attention span to pinpoint right now.

You tangle your fingers into the thick mass of soft hair on his pretty head and tugged slightly, eliciting a pained groan from the man who immediately hoisted you by the thighs onto his waist, and you feel yourself being pushed up against a tree. From this angle, you could already feel his stiff length against the plush of your ass as he ground his hips into you, making you gasp – an opportunity he grasped to slide his tongue into the cavern of your mouth. Experimentally, you circle your hips to feel him again and he pulls his mouth from yours.

“This feels like every wet dream I had as a teenager.” He smirks, reattaching his lips to your neck, breathing heavy and ragged with restraint to not just rip your towel off and plunge himself into you then and there.

“Who was the star of those dreams?” You giggle, genuinely curious as to who he fantasised over when you were sitting with him as your teenage dream.

“Who do you think, dumbass?”

“Tsunade-sama?” The most beautiful woman in the village back then had to be the obvious choice.

But you must have guessed wrong, for he sank his teeth into the silky skin of your neck in protest before pulling away, keeping one hand under your thighs, and bringing the other up to cup your cheek.

“Idiot.”

“Rude.”

“You. Y/N. It’s always been you.”

You kiss him this time. Softer, sweeter than the last.

“You’ve been the star of all my dreams, since we were kids.” You whisper into his lips.

He reattaches his lips to yours, your teeth lightly pulling on his lower lip which makes him lift you from the tree and carry you to the patch of mossy earth beside the spring. It feels like a cloud on your back, and ask he adjusts himself over you, you take the chance to pop the fastening of your towel, letting it flutter to the ground beneath you and exposing yourself to him – with full awareness this time.

“As good up close, Hatake?” You smirk at him as his hands form fists by his side – jaw clenched.

“So much fucking better.” He says as he dives back into your neck.

You let yourself indulge in the feeling of his heated lips and tongue leaving marks over your skin, that will no doubt be as purple as grapes by tomorrow, his teeth leaving bite marks that he may as well just spell out ‘Property of Kakashi Hatake” on your forehead and be done with it. You realise he’s mumbling, and you listen to his words.

mine mine mine mine mine was the chorus being sung into your skin and you pull his face up to look at you.

“Yours.”

You tug on the bottom hem of his vest and shirt, desperate to have him as bare as you to which he eagerly obliges – unclipping the fastenings of the vest in what must be record speed – oh what those hands could do, you often thought to yourself watching him make hand signs or twirl his kunai around his fingers – leaving you frustrated and hot under the collar as you fought alongside him in countless missions, always relieving the pent up tension with your own measly fingers when you returned home – they did the job, but you just knew he would work pure magic on your body with his.

But soon enough, all thoughts leave your mind because before you – no hitai-ate, no mask, no vest, no shirt was Kakashi. Muscled thighs spread, kneeling over your thighs and looking down at him. Eyes as dark as the night sky itself, pale skin scattered with shiny scars – some of which you stitched up yourself – and his hair glowing in the light of the moon that was acting as a backdrop.

“Fuck, ‘Kashi. You’re fucking… beautiful.” You softly sigh. You think you’ve never seen a person so stunning, corded muscles of his arms showcasing the pure agile strength of him, chest heaving and glittering with a slight sheen of sweat and defined, chiselled abs leading to a strong Adonis belt decorated with a trail of darker grey hair leading down, down, down…

You could see him straining against the fabric of his pants, obviously painfully hard as he hissed when you so much as brushed a finger against the zipper of them. You look up at him through your eyelashes and the sight takes his breath away.

You lay beneath him, hair splayed out like a fallen angels, contrasting against the mossy floor beneath you. Sparkling eyes reflecting the starlight gazing wide eyed at him through your fluttering lashes rendered him speechless. The cute curve of your nose, leading to those delicious kiss-swollen lips. The slope of your neck and the smell of you – God the smell. Roses and cherries and something deeper, something that was just you. Your scent drove him wild as he had been kissing your neck, leading him to create the litany of marks he was now admiring. These were all things he’d seen before, admired before, loved before. But now, you had allowed him to venture further, to see the parts of you that he would imagine reading his novels. The girl in the stories was always you – since he first picked it up. All of his dreams, day and night, and his imagination when his own calloused palm and fingers were wrapped around his flushed cock in his bed at night – they were all you. Spread beneath him, beside him, on top of him. Some days, especially in summer – training had been torture with you. Your skin slick with sweat, droplets dripping between your breast – your shorts or skirt riding higher and higher as the heat grew more stifling. There had been many days he had felt his pants tighten and had to come up with an excuse to vanish from the training grounds to somewhere private.

Yet, none of that – not one imagined image – could compare to what was lain before him now.

Chest heaving, the slope of your waist leading to the wider curve of your hips, he was desperate to see your ass, he’d always been an ass man and he was convinced yours was the best around, he’d never tell that he’d heard other ANBU members talking about how much they loved your ass in your uniform one time and it had infuriated him so much that he had them on extra training for a month – thighs so strong and beautiful that he wanted them wrapped around his head so many times and the soft, squishy mound between them. Fuck, he wanted to taste you.

“Sweetheart, you’ve no idea what you do to me.” He says, voice strained.

“I’ve a rough idea, probably the same as what you do to me.” You smirk, taking his hand and guiding it to where you can already feel your sopping folds.

A soft ‘fuckkkk’ was groaned when he felt how soaked you were, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

With the speed only he could have, he is suddenly on his knees, strong body separating your thighs so he can look at your most intimate places. You squirm under his gaze, charcoal eyes so intense you feel like he can see right through you. Before you can think, he’s licking a long, sloppy stripe from your dripping hole to the precious little pearl above. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes you at the feeling of his mouth – until he does it again. This time, with more precision, a look on his face of pure determination and concentration, he was now lapping at your slick like you were an oasis in the desert. The fiery heat in your stomach intensified to a scorching level when he brought up his pretty pink lips to wrap around your little nub and gently suckle, your thighs clenching around his head and hands tugging at the roots of his hair at this new action – oh, he found what you liked. You were so focused on the feel of his mouth and the coil in your belly tightening that you don’t register the finger circling your entrance until it’s dipping into you, and you gasp, back arching at the delight of this foreign intrusion. You mewl as he adds another and curls them inside you, searching for that sweet spot. He knows he’s found it when you mewl into the night, and you can feel him smirk against you. Fuck, you were right. Those hands – magical.

“Jesus, ‘Kashi. I’m so ah – so close, fuck.” Your voice is almost unrecognisable, breathy and heavy simultaneously.

He groans into you.

“Good girl, cum for me sweetheart. Let me taste you.” He says, only detaching his mouth long enough for the words to come out. He snakes his free hand up to pinch and tug at your nipple and you’re sent careening over the edge – body tensing and arching off the ground into his face and body as waves and waves of heat and pressure release from your wound-up body. He slowly lets you ride out your high on his fingers and mouth before pulling away and dropping a kiss just below your navel.

“Need you, ‘Kashi. Please.” You mumble, already slurring your words and so, so desperate to be filled.

“You are sure, sweetheart?” He asks, swiping a thumb across your lower lip. You nod, then wrap your lips around his finger and reach out the undo the fastening of his trousers. You pull his pants and boxers down in one swoop and you think you’ve died and gone to heaven – is this real? Is this man real? Surely not.

A pretty, pale pink, uncut cock slaps up against his stomach - easily the largest you’ve seen, about 8 inches and thick enough that you think you’re going to need both hands to handle it, because one surely won’t do. The flush tip is dripping with shiny droplets of precum, spreading across his very-lickable abs.

You can’t help it – the whimper comes out of your mouth as you lean forward in hopes of catching him in your mouth. A hand grips your hair just as you slide your tongue out pas your lips.

“Sweetheart – as much as I want to see those pretty lips around my cock – I gotta feel you now. I have to be inside you.” He mutters.

“Please, ‘Kashi – just a little taste.” You bargain with him, eyes wide and pleading.

He might just cum on the spot.

He can’t deny that pretty request so he relinquishes his hold on your hair and you dart forward, soft, warm, wet tongue licking a languid stripe up the midnight blue vein on the underside of his cock and he reaches an arm, pinching his wrist to make sure this isn’t a dream. When he felt the pinch, he realised this was really happening, you were real and here and so was he. All those years of pining and dreaming were coming to fruition.

He lets you continue for a few more licks before he grips your hips and lays you on your back, large hands spayed across the flesh and digging squeezing tightly.

He leans down, locking lips with you once more as he grinds himself into your warmth, hissing in unison with his tip catching on you clenching hole.

Thank fuck for your contraception is all you can think.

He adjusts himself and even your own arousal and post orgasmic bliss didn’t prepare you for the initial tip as he slowly slides the mushroom tip of his cock into you, the burn didn’t last for long however, pain making way for pleasure as in one swift thrust, he sheathes the rest of himself into you – walls so wet and warm he thinks he might stay like this forever. He gives you a second to adjust before he feels you start to squirm under him, experimentally rolling his hips to meet yours and the noises you both let out could have been a symphony – the feeling of being wrapped up, tangled together was otherworldly. His thrusts grew deeper and deeper as he once again latched his teeth onto your throat. You could feel him holding back, and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Ah – ‘Kashi, fuck – ruin me, don’t hold back – please.” You say, intentionally squeezing around his cock.

“Say please.” His gruff voice calls into your ear.

“Kashi, just – fuck, faster.”

“Say. Please.” Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust and a sinful smirk.

“Please, Kakashi. Please – ruin me.”

With that he lifted your shaking legs so your knees rested on his toned shoulders, ANBU tattoo contrasting his pale skin. He noticed yours simultaneously, pressing a kiss to it.

The moment of tenderness was quickly shattered when he gripped your waist with a pressure that would definitely result in bruises and begin to drive his cock into you at an unforgiving pace. The air knocked from your lungs; you could feel the winding spring beginning to tighten in your belly once again.

“Pretty cunt squeezing me like fuckin’ vice. As if you weren’t tight enough already.” He growls as he feels your orgasm approaching and his words have you coming undone around him, soaking his cock.

His hips stutter as your gummy walls flutter around him and he’s seconds away from reaching his own Euphoria.

“Where can I cum, sweetheart?” He whines, and the Copy Ninja of Honoha whimpers at your reply.

“Inside. Please, inside, make me yours.” You reply, tugging on his hair at the nape of his neck.

With this, his hips still as his balls contract and he empties himself inside of you, warmth flooding your sense and body milking him for all he’s got. You both sit there to catch your breaths for a second, basking in the afterglow.

Then, you start to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, sliding to lay beside you, arm wrapping around your waist.

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was Naruto’s sexy Jutsu, and that your first reaction was to throw a weapon at it.” Your giggles overtook you as you remembered the events that lead to this moment.

He groans in response.

“Never living that down, am I?” A sly smile illustrates he’s not actually that upset about it.

“Not as long as I’m around.” You reply, lacing your fingers with his and lifting your gaze to meet his steely one.

“And how long will that be, sweetheart?” He says, stroking a thumb over your cheekbone.

“Forever, if you’ll have me?” You softly smile in response, leaning into his hand.

“Of course, I will – been yours since the day you slapped Obito for saying dolls were silly when we were 10.” He laughs at the memory, and you giggle at the image of a shocked Obito who decided then and there that he was your friend, a snickering young Kakashi standing nearby.

You’re both silent for a second.

“I love you, ‘Kashi.” You whisper.

“I love you too.”

The nightingale’s song provided the soundtrack for the long-awaited confession between the two of you, a sound which would forever be imprinted for the rest of your lives together as what marked the start of your relationship.

You untangle yourself from him, standing up and the starlight highlights the dribbles of his essence crawling down your inner thighs.

“Wanna join me in the spring? Seems I need to bathe again.” You smirk, hips swinging and eyes glancing over your shoulder as you make your way to the water.

“Y/N, the day I say no to that, kill me because I’ve surely gone mad.” He says and swipes you over his shoulder like a rag doll and slaps a large around across the fat of your ass.

[theheirofthesharingan]

What are your current Itachi headcanons?

Ah, they're nothing serious. Just some fleeting thoughts that cross my mind when I'm scrolling through Tumblr or writing my own fic. To list a few:

One day, Sasuke forgets to take his lunch to the Academy. With Itachi being home, Mikoto requests if he'd take the lunch for Sasuke. He agrees. At the academy, he's surprised to see he's treated like a celebrity because Sasuke is always talking about Itachi with his classmates. So much so, that the little them actually believe some of the things Sasuke had exaggerated about him. He's quite a charmer, so Sakura and Ino are both blushy-blushy around him because he's their crush's brother. Even Shikamaru is out of his regular 'this is such a drag' yawn-fest. And Sasuke glances at Naruto only to see he's also enchanted with his brother. Sasuke immediately asks Itachi to leave because if he stayed around longer, he might have to share his brother with others. There's already Shisui and he's a nuisance big enough for little Sasuke.

Itachi is always busy with his missions and barely has time to spend with his little brother. While he also values his work and decides he's going to take Sasuke to train with him, Sasuke feels he needs to do something. He gets his chance when The Third shows up at their Academy, and Sasuke follows him, expressing his displeasure at not having his brother with him. Since Itachi even skipped his own birthday because of missions. The Third complies. Itachi is pleasantly surprised to have a weekend off finally.

Of all his subordinates Kakashi has had in Anbu, Itachi is his favourite and he feels slightly protective of him because Itachi is still a child. He sees himself in Itachi and the potential of all the darkness and pain should anything go wrong. Itachi sees Kakashi's sufferings and tries to be helpful to him in ways he can. They're both Shinobi and men, not supposed to show feelings, but there are little gestures that help them rely on each other. They end up becoming good friends. Imagine Kakashi's surprise when Itachi's little brother is going to be his student.

Shisui is dead. Itachi has his Mangekyo Sharingan. Shisui's death woke The Third up and the man acted. The coup and massacre don't happen. Every thing has been going on well since then between the Village and the Uchiha. Itachi has been declared the next Hokage. The youngest one. The first Uchiha Hokage in history.

Itachi being the Hokage gives Sasuke a free pass to spend all his time with him unless Itachi has to leave the Village for meetings with others. Sasuke realizes the way he can spend more and more time with him is being in Anbu, so he joins it later on. Though upon working, he understands things in depth and follows Itachi's ideals. The Uchiha brothers become famous for their skills and diplomacy, although the younger one has a reputation of losing his mind when someone says anything about his big brother.

Danzo stands no chance with Itachi as the Hokage. Neither do the other two Village Elders. Danzo's corrupt organizations, his ideals are all thwarted. The man is thrown in prison for life. Itachi makes sure kids like Sai and Yamato aren't trapped by the man and get better childhood. His time as the Hokage sees some positive changes that will be relevent for years to come.

Itachi is kind and soft but knows when to take harsh decisions. Anytime he sees someone trying to fan the flame of war from any of the Great Nations, he makes sure to bring them down. He's heard, seen, respected, and feared.

Itachi's birthdays are a mess. To him, birthdays are nothing special. He doesn't have friends so celebration is irrelevant. However, little Sasuke doesn't understand this. He invites his own friends so that Itachi can have a good time. Itachi spends time with the kids and is delighted to know his brother does have friends. With them, he likes to be the child as well. This encourages Sasuke to follow the same ritual the next year.

Sasuke isn't as enthusiastic about his own birthdays, and Itachi knows more than the parties his brother wants acknowledgement from their father. Itachi convinces his dad to get Sasuke a gift. Oh, Sasuke is beyond delighted.

________

So these were some. Thanks for reading.

[whtpluto]

Naruto: Yamato/Tenzou NSFW headcanons/drabble

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disclaimer: edging, soft dom, mentions of violence, use of pet names (doll, pretty girl, darling, daddy)

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Within the Shinobi world, partnerships aren’t unheard of and definitely aren’t rare. Teamwork is a staple of the konoha model after all. Genin starting in teams of three, Anbu working in teams of four. Madara and Hashirama, the village’s founders, The legendary Sannin. Bonds between teammates are never far in konoha, but it would be… dishonest to call ANBU Agent Cat and Anbu Agent Mouse simply… partners.

it was well known within ANBU black ops that where cat is, mouse is never far behind or vice versa.

You two knew each other since the dark days of Root, being placed on teams together because of your unique jutsu and kekkai genkai. Through years of service together you became inseparable, both on the battlefield and off.

On the field, You cover each other’s backs as naturally as breathing, Tenzo slipping into an opponents guard while you engage them from the front, you targeting senbon at Tenzo’s opponents legs as he goes for the kill. Slipping between opponents interchangeably, consolidating kills, covering weak points, a truly indispensable duo. stories of your exploits spread as well as fear of your famed partnership.

Outside of the field, you two were practically tied at the hip. Sharing a bunk from the ages of 7 onwards was pretty good at bringing people together, but your relationship spanned more than just forced proximity. As young children, you found comfort in each other that you couldn’t find in anyone else. You were the first to treat him separately from the Shodaime’s power, and he was the first to see you as more than a beautiful tool. More often than not, sharing bunks turned to sharing the bed, usually his.

It was one late night after a strenuous mission, with you curled up on his bed that he realized exactly what he had with you, love. Despite ROOT trying to train emotions out of its agents, his love for you kept him more human than most, a thought that scared him at first. Seeing how easily you made yourself vulnerable in front of him nearly every night only solidified that this relationship was different than the ones he had with other agents.

No other agent would share warmth with him at night in the cold underground bunks of ROOT. No other Agent could fill his heart with the indescribable feelings you did. And he certainly wouldn’t let any other agent hold you after an unpleasant seduction mission, your body shaking in repressed tremors.

Your beauty was something that he was always aware of, something that only flustered him when he got older, but something they he sometimes hated. Your beauty often made you the ideal agent for seduction missions, where men of enemy affiliation would be given a chance to look at you in ways Tenzo hated, and sometimes even get a pass at you. He hated the men but most of all he hated Danzo, who taught you these missions were just another facet of your purpose in life.

When Tenzou was taken out of ROOT, you followed shortly after. Though the time in between was a sad and vulnerable period for both you. Without his partnership, you were sent out on more uncomfortable missions, your beauty once again rearing its head on the mission roster.

For Tenzo, not seeing you gave him anxiety. perhaps you both were co-dependent, no you definitely were. He could care less though. The life of shinobi was cold and ruthless and if he, a prodigious, experimented on, tortured ROOT agent could find comfort in your soft hands, then he would.

Being placed on Team Ro together again though drew you close again, made you almost in-separable. Just as quickly as you become infamous for your deadly nature, you became known for constantly being together. Within ANBU, this was less frowned upon, but it still drew you both attention, much to Tenzo’s dislike.

In ANBU, he could afford to be possessive though, and possessive he was. Kakashi was the first to know of your relationship, but it wasn’t like you were hiding it. You carried extra ration bars in Tenzou’s favorite flavor and he always gave you his cloak on colder missions. When camping out, you two could be seen tangled together in the sparse hours of sleep you could get before watch shifts. Both of your masks discarded next to each other next to your sleeping bodies, his larger form blocking you from the behind as though to shield you from the outside world. He’d always give you the spot closer to the fire as well, knowing of your tendency to run cold. If you let out even a shiver, he’d simply hug you closer, tighter.

During battles, anyone who approached you would be treated with a specific vengeance sewn rarely in Tenzou’s usual fighting style. Quicker to become a wooden pincushion than touch you, his girl.

You weren’t any different in that regard. Taking enemy nin to their knees with waves and waves of senbon and ninjutsu for daring to hurt Tenzou.

If anyone believed fear was stronger than love well, kakashi would simply point to Team Ro’s resident Cat and Mouse.

Outside of missions, this possessive/protective nature was still strong. In the ANBU communal showers, any moment you two aren’t alone, he’s standing in front your naked form like a shield, preventing anyone else from seeing your beauty, a sight for his eyes only. His larger form dwarfed your frame, so all anybody else could see was the top of your head really, a fact which made some of the more perverted ANBU agents disappointed, considering your beauty had become common knowledge.

Tenzou had staked his claim rather early on much to the chagrin of other agents who consistently eyed you up and down. Back when you joined ANBU, it was the worst, with wolf-whistles and preying eyes trailing after your figure. But Tenzou serving as your deadly shadow culled much of the unwanted advances.

Showering together has always been a big MO for you guys, wether it be in ROOT, ANBU, or the comfort of your shared apartment. Standing together underneath the warm stream of water in his apartment shower brought comfort to both your straining muscles and need for affection.

In more ways than one he lived to serve, and took joy in washing your hair and your body if you let him. Always delicate with your softer skin and petite frame. You could swear, Tenzou had a body like the great oaks he manipulated, strong and broad and enrapturing. He took pride in how his large hands could cover you, from the way he could pin you with one hand, and cover your waist with both,

to how he could gently fondle your sweet breasts in his hand and make your breathe stutter by pinching your cute nipples. Everything about him is big, and he’d always be obsessed with how he could get you mewling as he fingers open your sweet sweet pussy. His fingers long enough to touch all your sweet spots, broad enough to have you seeing stars.

It’s not a good shower for him if he doesn’t get you wet in a different way too. He loves the way you cling to his broad shoulders as he ruthlessly bullies his fingers into your cunt, letting his large palm grind against your swollen clit at the same time, your quivering legs unable to hold yourself up any more.

He’d definelty be a tease about it too, whispering absolute filth in your ears he probably learned from Kakashi and that damned book of his.

“look at you darling, so wet for me.”

You’d moan out against his shoulder desperately as he plays with all the sensitive nerves of your pussy. He’d finger you all the way to the edge while still in the shower, keeping you on the edge of an orgasm until the water gets cold.

“you wanna cum, doll? want daddy to make you cum?” he smirks as you nod desperately against his shoulder, his large hand coming to roughly grab your face and make you look at him.

“say it sweet thing” he demands, taking pleasure in the fucked out look on your face, already dumb with pleasure and you haven’t even come yet.

“p-please.. cant- lemme cum please” you moan so whorishly, trying to grind your hips down further onto his fingers.

He’d smile at you then, so proud of his pretty girl. But Tenzou, with the patient of a saint, could wait a long time before he broke, and your pretty little whines did little to his self-control, so of course he kisses you softly, works his fingers into you a little quicker, until your breath grows sharp and your whines get higher and higher until-!

“Not yet, pretty girl.”

And your brought down from the orgasm to dangle on the edge, tears running down your pretty face and your whole body shaking, whining and babbling like a slut.

He’d turn off the shower then, and begin wiping the both of you off, rubbing his hands gently over your pert pink nipples, teasing them and then kissing them in apology, making your thighs shake. He’d be a gentle asshole really. Drying your off with the towel slowly, getting even slower as he reaches your dripping cunt. Drying the inside of your thighs and your mound, teasing so so close to where you want him, but never giving you relief.

He’d actually take you to bed then, naked on his freshly washed sheets. What’s the point in getting dressed if he’s just gonna take it all off of you again after all?

He’s set your practically limp form on the bed and climb over you, kissing you from your lips to your neck to your collarbones to your breasts. Leaving hickies and bite marks all the while, leaving one big dark hickey right on the top of your shoulder, where you could never hope to cover it with your sleeveless black ANBU turtleneck.

He’d ravage your body all the way down to his favorite destination. Your dripping wet pussy.

I’ve already mentjones that this man loves to serve right? well serve he fucking does. because despite how much he teased you in the shower, he loves nothing more to draw orgasm after orgasm from you with just his tongue. And that’s exactly what he does.

Delving into your wet heat like a man staved, going slow at first, teasingly blowing on your hard clit, making you squirm with his mouth and the promise of release so so close. He’d take your clit into his mouth and suck like it’s his favorite candy, before moving down to your precious little slit.

With all the teasing from earlier, it takes mere moments for you to be close, and he knows it because of your hands digging desperately into his brown hair, and your shaking legs clenching around his shoulders like a life line.

“you gonna cum doll?” he’d ask, and you’d shake even harder, pussy throbbing and your mouth whining.

“y-yes-! please don’t stop. Oh god-! please-! pleasepleaseplease.” he’d smile at that, blow against your throbbing clit and tease you one last time.

“beg for it darling.” He knows what he’d doing, smiling to himself as your cries turn desperate, your hips attempting to grind your pinky, dripping pussy against his mouth.

“please daddy please-! please i’ll be good! please let me cum.”

He’d let his tongue roughly caress your folds, slurping up your juices before pulling away.

“Why don’t you say ‘pretty please with a cherry on top’ darling?” and he’s really just being a dick now, holding the orgasm over you like a true sadist, but he knows you love it.

“p-pretty please-! with a cherry on top” You beg cutely, and who is he to deny when you do.

“Good girl,” he says proudly, “ you can cum.” His mouth seals around your twitching clit and sucks harshly, his fingers coming up to bully their way into your slit, his rough tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves finally bringing you over that well awaited edge. Your pussy gushes against his mouth and he licks up your spend eagerly.

When Tenzou finally looks away from your pretty pink cunt, his eyes almost glow with satisfaction at your beautiful form. Naked and fucked out on his bed, with his marks bruising on your delicate skin, eyes wet with tears and face flushed with pleasure.

Everything you’ve ever gone through together seems worth it when he’s got you, his girl, in his favorite place.

[trans-girl-uchiha-itachi]

me writing an attractive female character: she is super buff. i cant overemphasize how massive her deltoids are. she could throw you across a field and you would only be able to thank her.

me writing an attractive male character: he is just so fucking damp, just completely soggy, like wet cardboard. his autism and childhood trauma are irresistible. *slides in a line about top surgery scars*

[shiranuigenma]

bringing it down

TEEN+ // ALSO ON AO3 // HEADCANONS Words: 2,594 Warnings: Canon-typical violence, non-canon behavior, death, Missing-nin Kakashi, Kakashi is off the fucking deep end bro, the shinobi world is a mess of political corruption

I just had a lot of thoughts about a Kakashi who completely lost his faith in the shinobi system. Like he channeled his growing resentment and rage into killing people for Anbu but when the Third Hokage took it away to make him a Genin instructor, he went off the deep end. Sorry not sorry :)

Kakashi’s life exists in fragments.

Scattered memories, a puzzle with missing pieces long lost to time, snippets of emotion linked to things he can't quite picture anymore. People in his periphery, their presence hovering like ghosts that disappear when he gets too close. It’s for the best, maybe, because what little he does cling to is enough to make him believe he doesn't actually want to see the full picture, the full scope of tragedy that's scorched into every atom of his being.

It's a familiar, throbbing ache in his chest, a comforting death knell that echoes across a soul made of smoke and ashes barely held together by pale flesh and brittle bone, bearing the heart of a soldier. A tool, a weapon, a harbinger that hovers in the torn fabric of reality between life and death. A shadow that clings to dark corners with bared teeth and bloody hands that promise destruction, ruin, encapsulated in fingers sparking with electricity.

He bears the marks of that buzzing energy, lightning burned into taut skin. A livewire, always humming, always charged. Electric. Dangerous . The kind of danger that makes people turn their heads and double check the locks on their doors, as if that would stop him if they somehow found their names in his Bingo Book.

Innocents , Kakashi's raging mind tries to soothe him, sharp claws disguised as soft feathers, the whisper of his better angels. Not prey .

Tonight the prey he seeks sleeps soundly in a mansion, surrounded by the softest linens and guards that will never see him coming. The daimyō of the Land of Fire - a pathetic, simpering man from what he remembers of the one time they'd met, quick to bore and full of the pompous, lazy arrogance of someone in his position. Secure in the knowledge that he will not be challenged, that his word is law. 

He's wrong, of course. This world was not made for men like him, men who cower behind others while they kill in his name.

Kakashi creeps through the shadows, a ghost in the night behind white porcelain swirled in crimson, fingers itching to cross off another name.

He will. He does . The screams of the daimyō's wife, an innocent, follow him, but he's long gone, back to a sketchy inn in a neighboring village where no one questions the blood on his hands or the fresh streaks of lightning burned into his flesh.

It's only there that he allows himself to settle, to scrub his hands before gathering a dinner from the kitchens that he eats alone in his room. Mask yanked down around his neck, canines tearing into tough, chewy meat, overcooked and tasteless. Habit, a lonely routine he finds comfort in.

He's always been good at being alone. It's even easier when people can't look at him without shrinking away in fear.

Wiping his fingers absently against the rough material of his dark pants, he gets to his feet and pulls his mask back up over his mouth, covers his unnatural eye with the silvery hair that falls over his forehead. That eye is open more than it's not these days, capturing every detail of the broken, rotted world around him.

In a way, it's a twisted, final fuck you to Obito's relentless optimism, unwavering even in the face of death. A revenge of sorts for this curse the Uchiha had shoved on him- he had died hopeful for a better world, now all his eye would see is the despair that claws at the underbelly, digging deep, bloody furrows into a cracked veneer. 

The same despair that had been clawing at Kakashi himself since that night on a rocky outcropping, surrounded by enemies and singing birds with his hand soaked in blood that will never come off, one of the only memories he holds onto in perfect, agonizing clarity.

Rin's death will always be the memory that haunts his nightmares, wakes him from shallow, restless sleep and makes him scrub his hands until they're raw and red, keeps him up long past sunrise until he hits the road again with heavy, gritty eyes and tired limbs. He's so exhausted he can barely muster a transformation to disguise himself as he leaves, passing an increased patrol of shinobis sent from the Leaf, faces he'd recognize if he cared enough to look closer. He's stopped at the gate, his pack and identification checked, then sent on his way with a warning of caution. 

"There's a killer out there," the guard tells him, unaware of the way Kakashi wants to rip the hitai-ate off of his forehead and gouge through the symbol of the Hidden Leaf until there's nothing left, ignorant of the thunderous rage coiling like a snake in the spaces between his ribs. "Murdered the daimyō last night. Watch yourself."

Kakashi only grunts in response, the sound hoarse and abrasive from disuse. It's been so long since he's spoken that he's not sure he even knows what his own voice sounds like anymore. He quells his rage with a quick huff of air and trudges down the road, away from a sleepy village unaware that the very killer the shinobis were there to find had slipped so easily between their fingers, like smoke disappearing into the wind.

He gathers his weapons from where he'd hidden them in the forest, buried in a small copse of tall, broad trees, pausing just long enough to look at the next name on his list.

Hiruzen Sarutobi . The Third Hokage, who had retired from his seat but was a little too quick, a little too eager, to take it right back before the Fourth Hokage's body was even cold. An overseer in the manufacture of child soldiers, groomed practically from birth to know nothing but blind loyalty to their village and its leader, carving them with brutal precision into weapons before their brains had even fully formed. A man who had once looked at Kakashi, broken and drowning in the depths of loss and despair, a killer soaked head to toe in blood in the name of his village, and told him that he was better suited to aid in their corruption. To strip away their innocence, their illusion of free will, before they were even old enough to realize what was being asked of them.

He had told the Hokage he would think about it. Instead, he had sat in the dark of his father's house and repainted his mask, erasing Hound until something new was born, a creature of bloodshed and righteous fury, a harbinger of death and thunderous ruin. He wore a mask painted in the memory of blood swirling across the floor, the symbol of the Hidden Leaf carved on the inside and scratched through, a permanent reminder. Never forget. Never forgive .

From weapon to nightmare in the blink of an eye. A list of names in a book dripping with blood. A ghost that stalks his prey with lethal intent, that shadow in the periphery of their vision that disappears when they look too close. Until they reek of fear - putrid, rotten - and realize that death is knocking on their door. A demon of their own making, trained by their own hands.

It's a heady feeling, knowing that he strikes such fear in their hearts. That they toss and turn after hearing of the death of a high ranking government official, wondering if they're next. It feels like poetic justice.

That feeling sticks with him when he lands on top of the Hokage Rock, crouched down with his elbows on his knees. He surveys the place he'd once called home, shrouded in twilight shadows and bustling with life and joy. Children laugh, too young yet to be forced into the Academy, their parents telling them it's time to go home and blissfully unaware that one day they won't. Were he in his right mind, it would be a comforting familiarity. Instead it sickens him, nausea roiling in his gut.

They don't see the cracks that he does, the facade crumbling as he slowly rips it apart with every life he takes.

They'll know soon enough , he thinks, eyes drawn to the red tower below. He'll drag every ugly secret and dirty truth to the surface, burn this village to the ground if he has to. He'll expose its rotten underbelly, the labyrinth of greed and corruption that the elders would kill children to protect. Power at all costs, right?

Once Kakashi had been proud to be a shinobi of the Leaf. To bear their symbol, to shed his blood to keep it safe. It was his duty, his honor. 

Now, it's his disgrace.

Now, he knows that his sacrifices, the people he lost, were never to protect the village, but to protect power-hungry elders who would stop at nothing to keep their foothold in the world. They were, in ways, worse than the Hidden Mist, because while they didn't force tailed beasts into unwilling children, their machinations were subtle, buried in lies and secrets and backs stabbed clean through in their desperate bid to maintain the status quo. Gaslighting mothers into believing their children had died for a worthy cause. It disgusts him.

Minato-sensei had been the better of them, and sometimes when he hears his mind urging restraint, patience , he hears it in his sensei's voice. Maybe the Fourth Hokage could have changed things, but like Obito, like Rin, he'd been taken too soon. Another pillar of unrelenting hope, ripped from the world. Another unnecessary sacrifice.

Kakashi wonders if Sarutobi feels guilt for what he's done, what he's doing. If he lies awake at night and thinks about Minato like he does, if he asks himself if he did the right thing in taking back - and keeping - the mantle of Hokage.

Morbidly, he wonders if Minato had even stopped breathing before Sarutobi decided he wanted to be Hokage again after all. Maybe he'll ask him before he kills him.

Leaping off of one of the spikes topping Minato's carved head, he lands cat-like on the roof of the Hokage's Tower, dispatching the lone guard before he has a chance to react. His body disappears into the sealing scroll, no trace left of him. The thought of it being someone he knew, someone he'd worked with, twists a little uncomfortably in his gut, but he presses on.

He hopes Tenzou isn't on duty tonight. The kid had always been a little too naive, a little too innocent for this life, with a tentative flicker of hope Kakashi would hate to snuff out. Of course, Tenzou did his duty anyway, had never known anything else, but he didn't do it with the same cold detachment as the others. Like some primal part of his soul still cared. If the broken system Kakashi is razing to the ground deserves to be rebuilt, maybe Tenzou would be one of the pillars. Strong, unwavering, but still gentle. Someone who had seen the depths of the darkness just as Kakashi had, but instead of succumbing to the madness, continued to see the good.

Two Anbu stand outside the Hokage's office, neither with masks he recognizes. They don't see the shadow slinking along the wall until it's too late, their bodies sealed away to be dealt with later, too.

The Hokage sees it though. Hiruzen Sarutobi waits for him behind his desk, relaxed, like an agent of death itself hasn't come to claim his soul.

"It's been a long time, Kakashi."

The past few years haven't changed the Third Hokage much. He looks a little more tired, the circles under his eyes a little darker, the wrinkles on his skin a little more pronounced, but otherwise he was the same man that had stood over him on the rooftop three years ago, ordering him to put down the mask that had kept the fury that boiled in his lightning-charred bones down at a low simmer, the one thing that had allowed him to channel that rage into something a little less destructive to the system he'd lost faith in.

Kakashi takes that mask off now, clearing his throat to test a voice that hasn't been used since that day. It comes out cracked, hoarse, like the creak of a weather-warped wooden door that hasn't been opened in decades. "Not long enough."

Sarutobi hums thoughtfully in response, leaning forward and steepling his fingers. For someone staring his own end in the face, he looks decidedly unbothered. 

Kakashi's rage snaps its jowls like a starved dog fighting for a piece of meat.

"It was me." The words slip out, a rough timbre thick with bitter fury. His wrath is a tempest, a storm battering against his ribs desperate to be let loose, to do what it does best and destroy. "The council, the daimyō. I saved you for last."

"Why is that?" the Hokage asks, low and gravelly, still calm. Still infuriating. Pissing him off without even trying. Kakashi stalks forward, slamming the kunai clutched in his bloody fingers down into the desk, so close it cuts the side of the Hokage's palm. He wonders what he looks like to the old man, leaning over him like this. If he sees the storm Kakashi would have him break beneath.

He leans closer, eyes dark as they stare into the old man's, steel and fire burning into fabricated warmth. He sees beneath, sees the cold, calculating man that leads children like lambs to slaughter. Who tells their mourning families that their death was some honorable thing, a sacrifice for the greater good. He never tells them what that 'greater good' really is.

"So you would know what was coming for you." He rips the blade from the wood, leaving a deep score in the dark spruce. The demon you crafted with your own blood-stained hands, your own weapon turned against you .

Hiruzen Sarutobi doesn't need to ask why. Kakashi can see it in his eyes when he registers that Kakashi had wanted him to be afraid, to sate the raging beast with the acrid scent of his fear. The old man chuckles, low and deep in his throat.

"Not what you were hoping for, is it Kakashi?" His steady voice, his unwavering calm, only fuels the fire burning in Kakashi's chest, soot building up along the pleura of his lungs and making it hard to breathe. His vision is shaded in the all consuming color of blood.

Kakashi's hand is quick to force the Hokage's yell of pain back into his mouth when two kunai drive through his hands into the desk, keeping him from forming hand signs. Keeping him from escape. 

The Hokage, once a renowned shinobi who put his own kind of fear into the hearts of his enemies, has gotten slow in his old age, complacent. He's underestimated the lightning storm that lives in Kakashi's skin, the song of birds that is his thunderclap.

He moves quicker than a blink, speed trained into him just as sharply as force and precision, and strikes.

And like all the others, arrogant enough to believe they're invulnerable, Hiruzen Sarutobi too collapses forward, a hole plunged through his chest just like Rin's.

Kakashi has lost count of how many people's chest cavities he's known so intimately under the Hokage's orders, but this one is certainly one of the most significant.

With the Hokage Tower burning behind him, he finally puts a finger on what makes this one different.

It doesn't feel like tragedy or duty.

It feels like victory.

[hauntedhokage]

As You Wish, Captain

Kakashi Hatake/F!Reader

Summary: Kakashi comes home to return the favor to his favorite Captain. Part 2 to Yes, Lord Hokage. Cross Posted to AO3

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: soft!dom Kakashi, dom/sub dynamics, bathtub fingering, this is mostly just aftercare with a little bit of spice at the end

Masterlist | Requests are open!

Being the Hokage didn’t exactly come with a set schedule, but Kakashi was still later than he usually was. You know better than to worry about him, the man was more than capable of holding his own in a fight and knew how to send for reinforcements if they were needed. There really was no need to worry, so you don’t. Instead you make sure his dinner is plated and ready for him, and put on some tea for yourself. You weren’t sure what he had planned for tonight and wanted to make sure that you were relaxed.

A bath would’ve been a good idea, though. But it was too late now, you wanted to see him walk through the door so you knew what kind of mood he’d been put into after you’d left.

There’s a knock on your door, and you frown into your cup before setting it down, curious as to who would be knocking on your door at this hour. Maybe something had happened? That wouldn’t be fun to deal with, since that would put you in a mood. 

Instead of an antsy Shikamaru or another Anbu, it’s the Hokage standing on your doorstep. Stripped of his robes and holding a single flower, the sight bringing a smile onto your face as you meet his gaze.

“Good evening, Lord Hokage,” you greet, stepping back into your home to allow him to enter, and accepting the flower he hands you as he walks by you. “A rose this time?”

“Well, Captain, this morning there were a few things left unattended to and I intend to apologize for that.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” you admit softly, placing the rose in the vase with the other flowers he’d brought home to you this week. “We both came, and I wasn’t hurt, so what was missing?”

“We didn’t really check in during our event or afterwards, and I’m sorry. I’d like to take care of you tonight, if you’d allow it, Captain.” A pause, and you look over your shoulder to see that he’s already stripped of his gear and stands before you in just his shirt and pants. “Would you like a bath?”

“A bath would be nice,” you confirm with a smile, letting him pull you back towards the bathroom. “As for the debrief, really it was all fine. I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, or let someone see us like that without making sure it was okay first.”

He lets out a soft hum, pointing to the toilet and nodding when you close the lid and sit down. Your hands hold one of his while his other hand works to turn on the faucet in the tub to ready your bath, your thumbs massaging at his palm as you watch him. He doesn’t pull his hand from yours, instead moving his body around you so he could ready your bath soap without needing to let you go.

He does pull his hand from yours as the tub fills, but only so he could pull you to your feet to undress you. The t-shirt you’d changed into in pulled over your head, and his eye meets yours with a knowing look when he sees that you weren’t wearing a bra or any other binding to hide your breasts from him, then his hands are on your chest so he could hold them.

“You wear too much armor when you give your mission reports, I’d like to see these more when you’re in my office.” The thought has you biting your lip, unintentionally stifling your gasp when the rough pads of his thumbs roll over your nipples. “I suppose the armor is necessary to protect you, but you’d look wonderful fighting nude I’m sure.” 

“Perhaps we could spar some time and put that to the test,” you suggest, smiling when he looks back up at you. “You need to keep your captain in top form, Lord Hokage.”

His hands move from your chest to drag down your sides, pushing the loose fitting pants (that you must’ve taken from his drawer) and your underwear down your hips when he got to the waistband. He drops to his knees as your pants fall, helping you to step out of them before bringing one of your legs to drape over his shoulder. 

“I didn’t give you proper attention before treating you so roughly, Captain, and I apologize.” His mask is lowered, and you watch with wide eyes as he peppers your lips in gentle kisses. “I’m sure you’re a bit sore?”

You were, but it was manageable so you didn’t think it was worth complaining about. After all, he’d put you in rougher positions than that and you were put through unimaginable situations as an Anbu Black Op - rough sex with the Hokage wasn’t exactly the worst thing you’d ever endured. 

“Honesty, Captain,” he requests, and you nod as your hand pushes into his hair as he continues to kiss at your cunt.

“A l-little sore, yeah, but nothing I can’t handle. You know I’m tough.” Your reasoning doesn’t do much to ease his concern if the way he sighs is any indicator. But the tub was full, and he’s ensuring you are balanced on your two feet before he turns the faucet off so he can help you into the warm bubble filled water. 

The warmth does wonders for your sore body, the aches and pains associated with long missions spent with tense muscles needing some sort of relief if your Hokage’s hand was not providing it and were so very different from the ache in your pussy from your Hokage’s treatment this morning. He seems pleased by the comforted sigh that leaves you, which has you smiling as he leans against the side of the tub. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows now, one hand holding his chin as he watches you relax into the porcelain. You wished you could be inside his head for just a moment when he looked at you; what did he think about when he watched you like this? When he was making you cry because he was so big and you were so small in comparison? When he was being mean?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Wondering what you might be thinking about when you look at me like that,” you comment, earning a quirked brow from the man who was looking at you so intently. “And when you’re being mean, or when you see me cry, what do you think about?”

“Watching you right now, I’m questioning whether or not I take good care of you, wondering if I’m worthy of the way you look at me with such adoration.” That has you adjusting so that you sat on your knees in the tub, able to lean forward so you were nose-to-nose with the concerned Kage. “When you’re crying…hm, I mostly think about how cute you look when I make you cry if it’s because of how my cock can stretch your cute little pussy. When I’m being mean, and you’re pouting up at me like the petulant child you can be despite your accomplished rank, I’m thinking about how much fun we’re going to have while I’m teaching you a lesson. In short; I think only good things for you, my dear.”

“Kakashi,” you whisper, your wet fingers gently trailing along his jaw as you smile at him. “You do take good care of me, y’know.”

“Do I?” You don’t answer, only scoop bubbles into your hand to hold in front of him as an example. This time he’s smiling, blowing at the bubbles so they’ll fall out of your hand. “I suppose if I didn’t, we wouldn’t be here. You’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, telling me to get lost wouldn’t be an issue.”

You nod your agreement, your hands closing around his forearm and giving a gentle tug towards you. You wanted him in the bathtub with you, mostly to get the cuddles you were owed after your performance this morning. The additional benefit of him being naked with you was only minor in comparison to physical contact you wanted. 

You don’t need to ask twice; he’s pulling his shirt over his head and standing so he could remove his pants before you’d even think you’d need to. You scoot to the side to make room for him, but once he’s seated you’re in his lap with your head laid back on his shoulder as his hands settle on your stomach. You’re both quiet for a moment, your hands busy with the bubbles as Kakashi relaxes behind you, but that moment ends with your small gasp as his fingers part your folds.

“May I?”

“You may.” Your consent has him humming, kissing behind your ear as his fingers start to rub around your clit and through your folds but not quite making contact with either spot that would make you react more. You weren’t sure that you could handle more than just his fingers, but you weren’t sure that you’d need to if your lover’s languid movements were any indicator. Kakashi’s fingers inside you were slow and gentle, not working to stretch you like he would if he was preparing you for his cock, which to you meant that he just wanted to help you relax after the morning he’d given you. 

“You did really well this morning, I thought about you all day after you left.” His praise has you smiling against his cheek, your eyes closing as he presses his thumb to your clit. “I don’t think I’d be able to stretch you more tonight, since I got myself off a couple more times after you left.”

“In your office?”

He hums, and you feel yourself clench around his fingers at the thought of him like that. Leaned back in his comfortable chair, pants undone just enough to free the impressive erection, as his hand worked the length. His eyes were probably closed, lip caught between his teeth to help him keep quiet so as to not alert anyone on the other side of the doors to his activity. 

“Both times thinking about how perfectly I fit in your mouth this morning, and how good for me you were under my desk. How wonderfully tight your pussy was, my hand can’t compare but I did what I needed to do.”

“Why not summon me back?”

“I didn’t want you thinking you were in trouble. After such a tough mission you didn’t need that stress too.” Another press to your clit, this one has your mouth opening against his face as you let out a small whine, your hips rising into his hand in search of more friction. “But it seems my fingers will be more than enough for you tonight, isn’t that right?”

[dimigex]

hey just wondering if there’s a rough idea on the next instalment of healing hands 😍

Precious Anon, I was literally working on it when I got this message. I feel all the guilt that the new chapter isn't out because it's been ages. I will say that it started around a few thousand words and it's almost 14K now (oops). Since the wait has been so long, there's a sneak peak under the cut! <3 <3 <3

Ignoring the question, Sakura crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me about the mission.” 

Kakashi raised one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s an S-ranked Anbu mission. You know I can’t give you the details.” 

“Well then, you also know I can’t clear him.” Sakura raised her chin to meet Kakashi’s dark, guarded gaze. As much as their friendship had developed over the past few months, he still managed to needle under her skin with little effort. Huffing out a frustrated breath, she continued. “How can you give me mission details when you send me the broken shinobi afterward, but not let me know what to expect? How does that make any sense?” 

The tense silence between them stretched for a moment as Kakashi formulated his response. Then, he sighed. “We have intel that a hideout belonging to Orochimaru is showing—” 

“You want to send him back to Orochimaru,” Sakura burst out, unable to contain her incredulity. “After everything he’s been through? How could you possibly think that’s a good idea?”

The lines across Kakashi’s forehead deepened, and Sakura realized that she might have revealed more about her relationship with Tenzo than she meant to. They wouldn’t have had much reason to talk about his past, especially since she had him on leave for medical reasons. But, as the Anbu medic, she had access to his file. Tenzo had admitted that much of what he’d told her was recorded inside. It wouldn’t have been unlikely that Sakura read it. 

Whatever conclusion Kakashi came to about the information, he kept his opinion to himself. “An abandoned research laboratory on the outskirts of the Land of Fire has been showing activity: disappearances, strange noises, and smoke. I need someone to secure the facility.” 

Refusing to be swayed, Sakura inclined her head. “And, you have dozens of Anbu who aren’t currently on leave. Send one of them.” 

The idea of sending Tenzo back to one of the facilities that he’d been trapped in as a child soured Sakura’s stomach. He would understandably be on edge and if something went wrong, it would set back weeks worth of hard work. Considering his slip with alcohol the night before, and the night terrors that came with it, Sakura couldn’t risk returning him to the field, not yet. He wasn’t ready. She had to find a way to protect him without damaging his trust again. 

“Sakura,” Kakashi chided, voice taking on the tone he’d used when trying to make her see reason as a genin. It hadn’t worked then either. “There are people disappearing, a couple of them were kids. If anyone knows how Orochimaru operates and how to capture him, it’s Yamato.” 

The plea tugged at Sakura’s heartstrings, but Tenzo needed just as much protection as those missing children did. If something went wrong, as it so often did on missions, she wasn’t sure how he’d react. His battered body in the hospital bed after his previous two missions flashed through Sakura’s mind. But, it gave her an idea. “I’ll grant his medical clearance on one condition.” 

The soft snort of disbelief from Kakashi didn’t match the ice in his gaze. “You do understand your input is a recommendation, right? I don’t have to follow your advice.”

“Yet, you keep asking for it,” Sakura countered, meeting Kakashi’s stare without flinching. There were only a few things that would make her stand up to her former sensei, and patient care was one of them. 

“What is your condition?” Kakashi shifted on the couch, a clear mark of discomfort. At least he was willing to entertain the idea. 

Sakura let out a measured breath to gather her courage. There was only way that she’d feel comfortable with Tenzo being back in the field. “Assign me to his team.” 

“Absolutely not.” Kakashi’s answer came almost as soon as the words left Sakura’s lips. “This mission has a high probability of failure, and you are not trained to handle these types of situations.”

Whose fault is that? Sakura managed to keep the question from leaving her lips, but only barely. Anger flooded her system at the implication that she was somehow less because she hadn’t received Anbu training. She had completed S-rank missions before, and her medical ninjutsu rivaled if not surpassed Tsunade’s. “If you’re worried about failure, I’m the best option to get your team out without casualties.” 

“This isn’t a game,” Kakashi growled, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I know you’re a good medic, the best even, but Yamato’s team won’t cater to you if you can’t keep up.” 

“I don’t need anyone to cater to me.” Sakura gestured at her dirty clothes with one hand as if they explained everything. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I'm in the best physical shape that I’ve ever been.” 

Kakashi shook his head like the fact was of little consequence. “That may be so, but you aren’t Anbu. There won’t be an extraction team if something goes wrong.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Sakura recalled the harsh reality that she’d witnessed at the hospital and Tenzo’s apartment since returning to the village. “I’m not a scared, untrained genin any longer, Kakashi-sensei.” 

The title melted the ice in Kakashi’s eyes, transforming it into something like pride. “I know, but that doesn’t make you ready for this type of situation.” 

Sakura blew out a tired breath, wondering how many times she’d need to prove herself before someone believed in her. “Because you don’t think I can do it?”  “Because I don’t want you to do it,” Kakashi corrected, leaning close enough for Sakura to see the pale flecks of silver in his eyes. It underscored the sincerity in his voice.

[shisui-uchiha-anon]

for my dear @kagami--uchiha

Take the warning to discard your Uchiha arrogance, tone down your ego he said. There is a far more powerful ninja than us, I am not that dense to think that no one can beat me. But younger do not heed the warning of the older, warning of his more experienced companion. It is the fear... it's not the fear but the reality. Shisui is scared of what's inside his own head in his own soul...head the warning leave it be.

He can not. He does not want his absence weakens the power structure just enough, the annoying brat is not there, you remember him don't you? We had his father captured. Said Kumo nin to his master whose cold blue eyes look briefly at him before marking his target. Target which waited in the middle of the ANBU training yard.

It must have been a glorious battle, but Shisu came back too late. Arrogant cold and cruel blue eyes met Shisui's. But if you look better in that deep icy blue, there is nothing in them but emptiness, and the face devoided of any emotion before his sword is lifted up. Shisui's commander was kneeling before his enemy bested, done, surrendering to the Lady Death. Accepting the cold embrace of the steel that enters his chest and pokes out of his back. Blood blooms over the pale clothing like a red spider lily. Uchiha Akio is dead.

Expecting to hear a blond man mocking him and spilling insults at him, Shisui watches but none of that happened. Fear is suffocating Shisui it's keeping him in the same spot, he can't breathe feels like he is drowning, and sinking deeper. Light fades to red, and rage through Shisui's veins drives him insane.

And their swords clash, as the sky opens and pours its sorrow down on them, memories flash before Shisui's eyes and his commander's words 'I can not kill him it will start the war. I can't start a war!'

Just a second of not paying attention, a light and precise slash of his opponent's blade~ Shisui lost his left eye, and warm blood followed by agonizing pain exploded inside his head. Never before in his whole life had Shisui ever could dream of a battle as fierce as this one no opening no weak spot nothing. This man was like a machine, it was a man who had nothing to lose but only to gain if he kills one more Uchiha, this hate went much deeper than just a loss of a child.

Shisui knew that he is a dead man it was just a matter of time. Till he saw a slight misstep in his opponent's footing. An old wound. Akio said that he faced him and stabbed him in the back of the leg.

"Which of us will survive? Which of us will survive the other?" Shisui asked his opponent, and only then that man spoke. Cold even, melodic, and soft voice.

"Your question is pointless when you know the answer"

Dark, slightly moonlit hallway in the dead of night, a shadow enters the building where Hokage is, carrying a severed head, dripping blood in his wake...."I started the warm because yes I am that arrogant to think that Uchiha is better than soft Kumo clouds"

[gender-trash]

no thoughts head empty don’t wanna do research... i long to work on my unbearably soft naruto fanfiction

anyway so like in c++ if i want to return either an object representing a planned path or a “planning failed” status, and i hate output parameters, what’s the Right Thing to do?  any notable pitfalls/drawbacks of switching to c++17 and using std::optional?  at google, which is where i learned to write (semi-)professional c++, the thing to use was the StatusOr<T> type provided by abseil, but i don’t particularly want to include abseil because it’s Big, and at any rate i don’t exactly need abseil status codes... just want a nice way to say “no plan here! sorry!” that isn’t just returning a null pointer

[bougiebutchbitch]

Bougie would u bless us with ur nsfw obkk headcanons?

bless u my child, I shall lay down a sermon upon thee

Obito has watched Kakashi, over the years.

He has watched him make his daily pilgramage, pay his penance before the memorial stone, while his life slid through his fingers like dust. Has watched him mourn their old team as if they all died at his hand (rather than just the one).

It is easy, from kamui, for Obito to press his eyes through the fabric of the world. If Kakashi knows he’s being observed, he must attribute the spying to ghosts. Maybe it brings him a measure of comfort, to think his three lost comrades are looking down on him?

Sometimes, Obito hopes so. Mostly, he hopes not.

One day soon, none of that will matter. Because he will create a perfect world, and he will be alive and happy, and Rin will be alive and happy, and Kakashi will be...

Kakashi will be what?

Non-existent, Obito tells himself, some days. The days when it’s easier to blame Kakashi than the world. Obito will have his own dream, and Rin will be in it, and Kakashi won't, and everything will be perfect again, just as he always wanted it as a child.

The other days are worse.

The days when the millstone of guilt weighs down Kakashi's neck, deepening his once-perfect posture into a slouch. When Obito understands just how broken this world is, how desperately it's crying out for someone to carry it gently out back and put it down.

At times like those, his resolve burns brighter than ever (bubbling at the underside of his skin, like he's a mere container for his vision). But equally, he can't hate Kakashi. Can't see him as anything more than another young, broken boy in a world that churns out armies of them.

And that is so very terrible, for reasons another young, broken boy can't quite comprehend.

Still, he flits away whenever he can (in between following Madara's design, setting the shogi pieces in place so that, in the years to come, one tap might knock all of them down). He returns to the graveyard. He waits for Kakashi to show, bare tattooed shoulders and grey armour, walking around Konoha in his ANBU uniform like he wants the world to look at him and see only a killer. He listens to Kakashi’s stilted reports about his life, piecing together a dull and lonely narrative.

And, over the years, he watches him grow.

Taller, taller - shooting up like a weed. Is this really the shrimp who used to boss his older teammates around?

Kakashi grows stronger too, if in a lanky sort of way, like he trains too much for what he eats. His hair remains untamed though, bristly as a paintbrush, sticking straight up like it always did despite Rin's attempts to domesticate it with her comb.

Obito’s glad for that, somehow.

Yet still, he can’t deny the facts. Rude little Bakashi is not a boy anymore. He’s a man.

As is Obito. One day, he realises he's tall as the Zetsus and as broad across the shoulders. It doesn't feel quite real. A part of him expected him and Kakashi to stay untouched by time (like their lost teammates, whose stories they cut short.)

But there are more problems with growing than needing to replace his robes at six-month intervals. The dreams, for one.

They start out pretty tame. Imagined touches. The softness of bare skin against his own. Heat and warmth and a hunger unlike any he's felt before, situated deep in his belly, behind the lowest planes of his abs.

Despite what Bakashi used to crow, Obito is far from stupid. He's been out in the world for years now, feeding his and Madara's plan, sowing discord here, courting a nukenin to their cause there. He has learned about all the ways adults want each other. And - oh, Obito wants.

But who?

It should be obvious. He has loved Rin since they were children at the academy together. But he finds it hard to think of her, on the nights where he can't bear it, twisting on hotel beds past midnight and punching his pillow before finally (finally) loosening the knot on the drawstring of his pants. Imagining her as a child just feels... well, wrong, and picturing her as an adult is too deep an ache.

(She should've lived. She should've grown in reality, not just in his mind. But she will have another chance soon - they all will.)

Obito sighs. He lets any fantasies slither away from him. Rolls onto his back, takes himself in hand, tries to focus on pure sensation.

It works, in the mechanical sense. Alas, it clearly does not work well enough. That night, the dreams return at full force, and his subconscious - treacherous, ridiculous - is willing to go places his waking mind is not.

Obito awakens thick and straining, his thoughts full of silver and scars. Too far gone to do anything but grind up into his fist and growl. One thrust, two - and pleasure courses through him, liquid white, splashing hot on his knuckles.

Obito looks at his filthy hand. He imagines thick white ropes webbing dark, fingerless gloves, and hates himself, just a little. But not nearly so much as he hates Bakashi.

Stupid, stupid Bakashi. With his stupid fluffy hair and stupid lean arms and stupid sad eyes and the stupid curve of his back that Obito's spent enough time glaring at that he has it memorised - could sketch it perfectly, sculpt him out of clay...

Obito punches the pillow a hell of a lot more.

He doesn't watch Kakashi for a week. But what's that old adage? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? There might be some merit in it, because the dreams don't stop, and the slightest press of his pants agaisnt his crotch can leave him flushed and furious.

Obito has always been stubborn. It's why Kushina liked him so much (no, no, don't think about her: spooning noodles into your bowl, ruffling your hair, impaled on the Kyuubi’s claw). However, the third time Madara has to remind him to focus on his duties, he realises his folly.

He's putting Kakashi first. Himself first, too. He’s putting his discomfort about his own incomprehensible desires before the fate of the entire world.

That can't continue. If Obito believes all that he preaches, he has to get over this. If he wants to see Rin again, he must first accept that Kakashi is nothing to him, and thus any physical attraction holds no meaning.

Yes, Obito tells himself the next time he's out scouting for possible Akatsuki recruits, after he books a room at an inn for the night and sprawls over a soft bed that smells of pressed, dried blossoms. If Obito wants to save the world, he has to wank off while thinking about Kakashi.

More to follow? Perhaps. Let me know if you liked it...