lilian

He had once been one of the most celebrated heroes, the Commission’s golden boy, until the day he turned his back on them, and on everything he had once stood for. Now there’s nothing left of that man but a shadow draped in crimson wings. 

Your back arches off the mattress when his cock shoves so deep it feels like your lungs can’t expand, the rhythm brutal and unrelenting.

And his cock is buried so deep inside you that your cunt is molded around the sheer thickness of him, your body clenching desperately with every brutal thrust that rocks the headboard against the wall.

A ragged gasp bursts free from the pit of your chest.

Hawks only growls low, his fingers tangling in your hair before yanking your head back hard, forcing your spine into a taut arch.

“Don’t swallow it down, baby bird,” Keigo rasps, voice rough, the remnants of his lazy charm nowhere to be found. “You wanted to play hero against me, didn’t you? Hahaha! Let everyone hear how I ruin you.”

His hips snap forward, cock hitting so deep that you feel it low in your belly, a white-hot ache blooming where the tip grinds your cervix. The stretch is maddening, a mix of pain and molten heat that leaves your thighs trembling beneath you, threatening to buckle with every second that drags by. 

Hawks doesn’t give you time to adjust, doesn’t let you take a proper breath - he just pounds his rock-hard cock harder, faster, one wing half-spread to steady himself against the wall as his hand digs into the plushy flesh of your ass. “Fuuuuuck,” the villain exhales through gritted teeth, tugging your hair harder until your scalp prickles. He bends low, lips brushing your ear, the predator in him bleeding through every syllable as he speaks in that taunting voice of his, “Your pussy is gripping my cock like you were made for this. Your little hero cunt is begging to be bred by the villain you swore to take down.”

A broken whimper slips out, your breath shattering as nails claw desperately into the silky sheets of your bed. It’s wrong - oh so wrong - yet the betrayal of your body comes swift: slick spilling down your trembling thighs, your inner, velvety walls tightening around his hardness with every brutal snap of his hips.

He chuckles, “So wet for me. Don’t pretend you don’t like it, songbird! You’ve been waiting for this. You’ve been waiting for me.”

The words cut deeper than his thrusts, your chest burning as shame collides with raw arousal. 

His hand slides from your hair to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your next moan catch. “Look at you,” Hawks snarls, watching the way your lips part, the way your eyes glaze. “All those nights patrolling, acting like the perfect little savior. And now? Just a whore taking a villain cock in her bed.”

He slams into you harder, his pelvis grinding down as if he’s intent on forcing his cum into the deepest part of you. 

Each thrust drags a ragged cry from your lungs, your body trembling under the weight of the villain.

“Keigo!” The name slips out unbidden, an echo of the man he used to be, but he cuts you off with a sharp jerk of your hair.

“Don’t,” Takami snaps, eyes glinting like steel. “That name’s dead. All that’s left is the man who’s gonna breed you until you forget what side you were fighting for.”

He punctuates the words with another savage thrust, and in a second, your pussy is spasming around him. His hand on your throat tightens, then releases, just enough to let you gasp a breath before he steals it with a kiss that’s more teeth than lips, biting down on your lower lip until you taste copper.

The sound he makes when he pulls back is feral, guttural. “God, I’ll ruin you. Stretch this sweet pussy until you can’t take anyone else. Fill you up so full of my cum you’ll still be leaking tomorrow.”

Suddenly, your phone buzzes on the sheets beside your head, the glow of the screen cutting through the dark. Endeavor. The name flashes again and again. 

Keigo snarls low behind you, wings flaring, hips slamming forward so hard your body jolts against the mattress. “Tch. Used to think that old man was cool,” he utters, voice sharp with venom, “But now? I think he’s just fucking lame.”

Hawks’ cock grinds deep into your walls, forcing you to moan like a whore. His one hand fists in your hair, jerking your head back as he reaches forward with the other, snatching up your phone without missing a single brutal thrust. Your ass slaps against his pelvis with every drive of his cock.

The line clicks, and Endeavor’s voice is booming through, “Do you have any new information, Y/N? Where the hell are you though?”

Keigo barks out a laugh, pressing the phone to his mouth as his hips grind forward, the fat head of his cock stretching you until your scream muffles into the pillow. He tilts the phone just enough so you can hear every word as his hips snap forward, his heavy balls slapping against the curve of your ass. His voice is a rasping growl, dripping with pure mockery, “Stop callin’ her, old man. She’s busy gettin’ fucked tonight.”

The call ends with a sharp beep as your scream rips into the pillow, Hawks’ laugh vibrating against your back as he throws your phone back on your bed.

Your back arch against him despite yourself, body seeking the friction, the pressure, the overwhelming heat. The shame burns as hot as the pleasure, tangled together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

He notices. Of course he does. His smirk twists, cruel and triumphant. “Knew it. Knew you’d break the second I had you like this. Hero or not, you’re just another cunt begging to be filled.”

He shifts, pulling your hips up higher so your ass tilts and his cock hits an angle that makes stars explode behind your eyes. 

You cry out, nails clawing at the sheets. Your mouth forms an O shape.

“Right there, huh?” Hawks grunts, thrusts turning sharp, deliberate, hammering that spot over and over until you’re sobbing into the pillow. “Yeah. I can feel it. Pussy’s milking me like it’s desperate to keep and cherish every drop I’ll give you.”

His words drip into your ears like poison, searing themselves deep into the darkest part of your mind. 

The rhythm turns brutal, his pace relentless, hips slapping against yours with wet, obscene sounds. 

With every brutal thrust his wings shudder, some of his red feathers loosening and falling, drifting down to scatter across the sheets and your trembling body.

His hand fists in your hair again, yanking your head back until your mouth falls open on a broken cry. “Say it,” Hawks demands, voice dark, “Say who owns this cunt.”

You shake your head weakly, shame scorching your skin, but the next thrust rips a scream from you, and he doesn’t seem to let up.

“Say it.”

Your voice cracks, wrecked and desperate. “You! Hawks!”

“That’s right.” His grin is sharp, feral, golden eyes locked on your flushed, tear-streaked face. “Mine. All mine. And I’m gonna keep you filled until you forget you ever fought me.”

You’ve already come several times tonight, back arching, legs spread painfully, every inch of your body bent to his pleasure, and still Hawks is preparing you for yet another orgasm.

He drives into you with faster, cock burying so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach. The pressure builds unbearably, that coiled heat in your gut snapping as your orgasm crashes through you, body convulsing around him, clenching so tight you drag a savage groan from his throat.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll breed you good, dove!” Hawks chirps loudly, wings flaring wide as his hips slam forward, his cock twitching hard deep inside you. Second later, the warmth of his release floods your cunt, thick and heavy, spilling into you with every jerking thrust as he rides his orgasm out. He holds you pinned to the mattress, forcing you to take every drop of his seed until you’re stuffed full, whimpering as the mixed cum leaks down your thighs, spilling out of your abused pussy, even though you’re still full of his cock.

Your vision blurs at the edges, consciousness slipping, but through the haze of exhaustion and overstimulation, that sound - his birdlike chirp - lingers in the back of your mind. The last shred of awareness latches onto it, finding it painfully, devastatingly cute that Hawks - once a hero, now a villain - lets out a helpless chirp as he orgasms.

“Perfect,” Takami claims, voice low. “Took it all. Gonna keep it in there, aren’t you? Gonna carry my cum like the good little bitch you are.”

Tears soak into the pillow as your body quivers beneath him. 

Hawks leans close, lips grazing the shell of your ear, his voice a silken blade as he slowly pulls out of your pussy. “This is what happens when a hero lets her guard down,” he says, dark amusement curling through every word he speaks. “You’re mine. Rest now, little dove. Your wings are clipped by me. You’ll never fly free again.”

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"Ah, baby, that was nice," your boyfriend exhaled, his chest heaving as he rolled off you and stared blindly up at the ceiling. His arm now resting behind his head. You stared at the exact same ceiling, feeling entirely numb.

Sex with him was always a scripted and very hollow routine. He would crawl over you with barely a scrap of foreplay, thrust his hips a handful of times, and declare himself satisfied. Just like this. 

No passion.  No consuming warmth.  No lingering intimacy.

And you craved more. You wanted more. You wanted to feel like you were wanted in this relationship instead of feeling like just a toy. On your best days, if you completely detached your mind and truly concentrated, you could sometimes coax a tremor out of your own body from the clumsy, rushed way his fingers grazed your sensitive cluster of nerves. But it was never enough. You didn’t feel whole, you didn’t feel satisfied.

You lie there, the cool night air settling into the empty space between your bodies on the mattress. Your relationship had been perfectly normal so far, but entirely devoid of high thrills. He wasn't malicious; he was just the absolute pinnacle of the bare minimum. He remembered to text you back eventually. He brought you takeout, but usually only because he was already hungry and passing the food stall anyway, or had eaten on his way home and brought you the leftovers.

He would sit beside you and nod while you spoke, but his eyes were always glued to whatever scroll or game was in his hands. It was the kind of mundane, low-effort companionship that made you question if you were simply expecting too much from romance. You knew that sex wasn’t everything in a relationship, of course not. But how could you be happy if your needs were not being tended to in all areas when you had always gone above and beyond for him?

You pulled the rumpled sheet up to your chest and sat up, your gaze dropping to your hands resting in your lap. You gathered whatever courage you had left to finally bridge the gap.

"Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something. I actually went to a medical-nin the other day." He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, his brow furrowing. "Are you sick?"

"No, no, I'm healthy," you reassured quickly, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "It’s just... I haven't been able to... finish. From penetration. And I thought maybe something was physically wrong with me, but the medic said everything is completely fine. So, I was thinking... maybe we could try something different? Switch things up a bit?"

The air in the room instantly soured. The easygoing, post-coital haze vanished from his face, entirely replaced by a defensive line. "Try something different?" he echoed in a completely flat tone. "Are you saying there's something wrong with how I do it?" "What? No, that's not what I said at all," you backpedaled, you could feel your chest tightening. You wanted to avoid confrontation; this was never your end goal here.

"I'm just saying my body needs something else to get there." He let out a humorless scoff, throwing the sheets off his legs and standing up. He reached for his clothes scattered across the floor. "Right. So I'm the problem. I've never had a girl complain before, so if it's not working for you, I don't know what to tell you."

"Are you seriously getting mad right now?" you asked, stunned, watching him strap his weapons pouch to his thigh. You were fortunate enough to be able to get him to spare some time for you after he came back from his latest mission, which, now, looking at him dressing up, you wondered how he even made it out of the academy with passing grades.

Konoha must be REALLY in need of shinobi!

"I'm not mad. You’re being overly emotional with this shit! I'm just not going to sit here and be told I'm bad in bed just because your body can't figure it out," he muttered, grabbing his green vest. He didn't even look at you as he walked toward the door. "If sex is going to be this complicated, maybe we shouldn't force it. Let's just call it quits. See ya."

See ya?

See. Ya.

What the hell just happened?

Did he…?

Did he just….?

The click of the door closing echoed in the agonizingly suffocating room. It wasn't the breakup that hurt; it was the sheer audacity.

Five months of dating had ended in a five-minute conversation simply because you dared to ask for more. You were left sitting alone in the dark, half-broken and half-stunned, a sickening realization settling in your gut.

He had never added anything to your life. He had only ever been using you for your body so far.

The sounds of Konoha usually offered a comforting white noise, but today they just felt like an annoying reminder that the world was moving on while you were stuck in a humiliating standstill—like your body didn’t even belong to your own desires anymore.

It had been three days since your ex walked out. Three days. Three stupid days. Three days of replaying that pathetic, five-minute conversation until your pride was completely raw, like you needed to kneel on the dirt to scrape it back.

You hadn't realized your feet had carried you toward the quieter shaded outskirts of the Uchiha compound until the scent of brewing tea grounded your wandering mind. Surely enough, Mikoto was brewing one of your favorites, and it brought a feeling of comfort to you. You’ve always felt cozy when stepping into the Uchiha side of the village.

"You are walking with the posture of someone carrying a very heavy burden." You winced, snapping your head up to look at the owner of that voice. Itachi stood near the edge of his family's engawa. He wasn't wearing his standard flak jacket, just a simple blue yukata that made him look incredibly domestic, probably on one of his almost non-existent days off. His dark eyes analyzed the exhausted shadows under your eyes and the unyielding tension completely locking up your shoulders.

“Oh, hi, Itachi. Just... lost in thought, I guess.” You tried to force a polite smile. It completely failed. “Is your mom at home? I really need to talk to her, if she’s available.”

"I’m afraid not. She left just a few minutes ago and should return before nightfall.” “I see… well, alright then.” And you simply stood there, thinking about your next steps.

Who could be the other person to help you navigate this terrible moment of insecurity and uncertainty that surrounded you completely? You needed a new lifeline.

Itachi didn't push. He simply scooted to the side, gesturing toward the polished wooden deck. “But her tea is freshly brewed. Come. Sit with me."

You shouldn't have.

You knew you shouldn’t, because your mind was simply not there at all. But at this point, you might as well just burn your bridges to your childhood friend.

All of them.

You were a chaotic mess. But the quiet safety radiating from him was a gravity you couldn't resist. You slipped off your sandals and sank onto the wood by his side, letting the tranquil rustle of the wind through the willow trees soothe your edgy nerves.

He poured the tea with meticulous care. The ceramic clinked softly against the saucer. He didn't demand answers, allowing the ambient sounds of the koi pond in front of you to do the heavy lifting. He gave your mind the exact space it needed to unravel. And unravel it did.

You hadn't planned on telling him. Why would you? Your friendship with Itachi was a completely normal one, and you had never shared any deep secrets like this. But staring into the swirling green liquid in your cup, the humiliating truth started to spill right out of your lungs.

You told him about your clinic visit, the vulnerability of asking for a change, and the immediate shattering of an ego and the pathetic, indifferent dismissal that followed. Itachi listened attentively. He didn't interrupt or offer empty platitudes. And he didn’t seem surprised at all. Or at least that’s what you thought, because you couldn’t really read his expressions. Ever. At all.

"Sometimes these things happen," he murmured finally. His gaze remained fixed on the water of the koi pond, his profile perfectly sculpted and entirely unreadable. "Everyone's body is different, and everyone's body reacts differently."

You expected him to leave it at that, not say anything else or offer any sort of comfort. Itachi’s personality was far from that, and you knew it. You knew better than to sulk in front of him. The last time you did, you were kids, and he literally poked - gently - your forehead before smiling and leaving.

He shifted his weight, preparing to stand, but his eyes suddenly cut back to yours as you turned to face him. The intensity in his stare practically pinned you to the floorboards, leaving you unable to move, to follow his movements, to stand up and leave.

"Or maybe," the words slipped out with seriousness. "He simply did not know how to take care of you properly. How to satisfy your body's needs."

He simply did not know how to take care of you properly.

You stared at him, completely in awe, with a glow of heat rushing straight to your cheeks. But Itachi merely adjusted the collar of his yukata, his expression smoothing back into its stoic mask, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on your lap.

"I promised to train with Sasuke," he excused himself, brushing past you with the fluid elegance of a ghost only he carried with such grace. “You’re welcome to stay and take all the time you need here. Drink the tea before it gets cold." And just like that, he vanished into the trees, leaving you entirely alone with a realization that set your blood absolutely on fire.

What you didn't see was how he stopped the absolute second he was out of your sight. You didn't hear the exhale that escaped his lungs, or see the way he closed his eyes, fighting to maintain his self-control. He had just intentionally crossed a line he had spent a lifetime protecting, practically begging you to look at him as a man with desires instead of just a safe, untouchable friend.

He had planted the seed. Now, all he could do was wait to see if it would grow.

His words had haunted you ever since you left his family’s house. They echoed in the quiet of your room for who knows how many agonizing days, rewriting everything you thought you knew about your own body, until the sheer weight of your intrusive thoughts finally drove you out of the house.

You had known Itachi Uchiha for almost your entire life. Growing up in the same village, with parents who had known each other for what seemed like ages, your friendship had always been a steady constant. Not awkward nor strained. You had shared countless conversations, sitting in the clearings or walking the market streets when your paths crossed. Itachi was the perfect example of a low-maintenance friendship, and you were completely fine with that.

You knew his habits. You knew his quiet quirks.

And now you even stood outside the bakery around the corner from his clan’s compound for ten solid minutes, totally paralyzed. You debated whether to buy a skewer of tricolor dango or a sweet red bean bun before coming to see him, hoping his favorite sugar rush might somehow soften the inappropriate conversation burning in your throat.

But you walked away empty-handed because no amount of dango could change the fundamental truth about him, about how he was notoriously vague, how he was a closed-off, untouchable golden child who kept his private life locked behind an impenetrable fortress, which was exactly why you were currently making a complete fool of yourself.

What am I even THINKING?

You were on your fifth frantic lap around the perimeter of his estate, entirely unable to force your feet to step onto the actual property. You were beating around the bush, completely terrified of ruining a lifelong friendship, regardless of how close you two were. Your treacherous mind simply wouldn't let go of his voice, of his damn words.

Well, it’s not like I don’t have other friends, right? If he ditches our friendship, I’ll be just fine. Yes, I WILL be fine!

What if Mikoto finds out? She might think I’m one of those women and ban me from ever seeing them again.

Shit, shit, SHIT!

You were so lost in your own panic that you didn't even hear his footsteps approach. The only warning you received was the weight of his long fingers wrapping around your wrist. You froze as his thumb rested perfectly over your racing pulse point, feeling the frenzied rhythm of your heart.

"How many more times do you plan on walking the radious of my home?" Itachi's voice was a soothing buzz that vibrated straight down your spine.

Had his voice always sounded so good before?  When did admiration turn into desire? Control yourself, seriously!

He didn't sound angry or impatient, or even slightly annoyed. He was just observant, his gaze, always intense, pinning you exactly where you stood. "Are you looking for something? My mom should be home toda—"

"No, I'm not...not looking for your mother," you blurted out, the words tumbling past your lips before your common sense could stop them. "Actually...I-I was wondering if we could talk? Over some tea?" He didn't hesitate, though he seemed surprised, offering a formal nod as he guided you inside the house.

The low table felt like an executioner's block as a bead of sweat threatened to drop from your temple. You sat rigidly on the cushion, watching him serve the tea with the same fluid elegance he applied to everything. Or, at least, you hoped that it was to everything.

"I was thinking about what you said the other day," you started, your voice sounding entirely too small for the stifling silence of the room. "About...body needs." He took a slow sip of his tea, nodding once. “May I ask you a personal question, Itachi?”

He nodded again, his eyebrow curving just a bit. You forced the words out in a single breath, asking him if he had ever made a woman feel good under him. The ceramic rim stalled a millimeter from his lips.

Why is the clock on the wall sounding so loud all of a sudden?

"I'm so sorry, Itachi, I shouldn't have—"

"I suppose I cannot discuss any private matters I have had with past lovers," he interrupted softly, resting his teacup back onto the table. His dark eyes held your panicked stare, but not enough to fully ground you in the moment. "But I have never received a complaint. Let us put it like that."

"I see," you whispered, feeling the heat in your cheeks burning absolutely out of control. The silence stretched thickly between you again. But Itachi was not dumb, and you’d be even dumber to think he could not see deep into your soul, with or without his Sharingan.

"I believe it is time for you to truly say what you have been wanting to say since you were pacing nervously outside.” You were the one who nearly choked on your tea this time. You set the cup down with an ungraceful clatter, staring at the wooden table as if it were the most interesting thing in the room to avoid his gaze.

"Itachi... how long have we known each other?"

"Almost our whole lives, I would say."

You swallowed the thick lump that formed in your throat for the second time, your pride completely abandoning you as you asked him the ultimate question. “Do you think you, maybe you…Perhaps we can…But only if—” You closed your eyes and took it as your turn to drop the bomb right back at him. “Do you think you could help me practice more and discover my body’s needs? Just once. To try different positions so I can finally find a release.”

Itachi went entirely, utterly, completely still. The only betrayal of his composure was the microscopic tremor of his pinky finger resting against his cup.

Had you just managed to break down his composure with your words?

His silence became a physical weight, the anxiety violently clawing at your throat. "I'm sorry," you gasped, scrambling to your feet and almost falling down when standing up. You grabbed whatever was left of your dignity while bowing your head in absolute shame. "This is terribly inappropriate. Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll get going now.”

You didn't give him a single second to respond before you practically ran from the room. You fled back into the safety of your house, knowing well enough that this conversation would randomly keep you awake at 3 AM forever.

But you weren't the only one about to lose your sleep.

Back in the quiet of his house, Itachi remained entirely frozen where you had left him. He stared at the empty cushion you left behind, his Sharingan bleeding into his eyes in the room purely on instinct as his blood roared violently in his ears. You had just handed him the exact weapon he needed to claim you after so many years, and the restraint it took not to follow you home right then and there nearly ate him alive.

You avoided him like the plague for an entire week. And you planned to keep it that way for as long as necessary.

Your daily routine became a masterclass in evasion. At this point, you could easily become a covert shinobi, and you had never even set foot inside the academy.

You walked strictly to and from work, kept your head down, avoiding the usual streets that would make you and Itachi cross paths on the street. You avoided the clearings you knew he favored, and even had to deny Mikoto’s invitation to dinner when she saw you at your workplace. You practically sprinted through the market whenever you needed groceries.

Most importantly, you completely abandoned the bakery on that corner. The mere thought of accidentally bumping into him while he bought his favorite sweets was enough to send your heart into a nauseating spiral.

If I never see him again, I will literally never have to explain myself.

It was a flawless, if cowardly, plan. Right up until it wasn't.

You didn't know that your absence was driving him absolutely feral. You thought you were being slick by dodging him in the market, but Itachi was not stupid. He had known you his entire life. He knew your routines, the corners you favored, the alleys you used to cut through the village, and the exact minute your shift ended, even if you had overtime.

He let you play your little game of hide-and-seek, giving you exactly one week to panic and process the tension snapping between you two. Because at the end of the day, you could avoid his paths all you wanted, but he knew exactly where to find you when the time came.

You had just returned home from an exhausting shift, kicking off your sandals with a heavy sigh of relief. The only good part of your day was the beautiful sunset hue that seemed to embrace you while you walked back to the comfort of your place. The absolute second the door clicked shut behind you, a melodic knock echoed through the wood. You froze, very aware that you were not expecting any visitors or deliveries. Another knock. Patient. Unyielding.

Your hands felt entirely too cold, slick with a sudden sweat, as if your body intrinsically knew exactly who was behind that door. 

Maybe, just maybe, if I stay perfectly still, the person will go away, right?

Wrong.

Another knock.

Gathering what little courage you still had, somehow, you pulled the door open, completely (un)prepared for the sight waiting on your porch. Itachi stood cloaked in the evening shadows as the sunset gave away the space to the dark night sky. In his right hand, he held a small, dark silk pouch, his long fingers wrapped loosely around the drawstrings. "Hello."Your lungs instantly forgot how to function.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not him!

"I-Itachi, h-hi," you stammered, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the doorframe for dear life. "Uhm, can I help you?"

"You ran quite fast last week," he stated, stepping over your threshold without really waiting for an invitation, effectively trapping you in the entryway. "You did not give me the chance to deepen our conversation. I felt like I had no say in it." You swallowed hard as his intoxicating scent completely invaded your personal space, your home.

"I thought about your offer for the entire week," he continued with his voice dropping into a hypnotic cadence. "I am deeply honored that you trust me with such a delicate vulnerability. Though I kept thinking if our bond would deepen after such an offer, or break entirely.”

He stopped mere inches from you, using the back of his heel to slowly push the door shut behind him. "But I need you to know," he added, completely serious. "Regardless of the outcome today, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you." You stared at the small silk pouch dangling from his fingers, your mind entirely blanking out.

Outcome of today? What is… Wait, what?

"Wait... what do you mean, the outcome of today?"

"You came to me asking for help," his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before locking back onto your eyes. "What kind of friend would I be to deny you your personal struggles? To abandon you in a predicament like this."

Your brain completely short-circuited. You stood frozen in your own entryway, acutely aware of the massive heat radiating from his large frame. "Right," you squeaked, your voice jumping a pathetic octave. "So... where do we... uhm, what do we..."

Itachi watched your agitated stammering with an unreadable expression, though amusement seemed to swim in his eyes. "For starters, we can relocate to your bedroom," his tone as smooth as glass with no signs of nervousness whatsoever. "If you are comfortable. If you still want this."

"Right. No, I want this," you babbled. "My room. Okay! Right."

He tilted his head just a bit, his gaze lazily drifting over your shoulder toward the small living room. "Unless you would prefer I take you right there on your couch." Your breath completely stopped.

"What?"

"What?" Itachi echoed. You opened your mouth to argue, but no sound came out. You spun on your heel instead, marching down the short hallway and past your living room toward your bedroom, purely to escape the weight of his stare. He followed silently behind you, his quiet footsteps a terrifying reminder of exactly what you had just invited into your house.

Danger.

The second you crossed the threshold of your bedroom, the reality of the situation crashed directly into your spine. This was your sanctuary, and Itachi Uchiha was standing right in the middle of it. You stood entirely too rigid at the edge of the mattress. Your hands were trembling so badly that you had to clasp them together on top of your thighs.

He didn't miss the movement. He didn't miss anything. "You are nervous,” he observed, setting the silky pouch onto your nightstand.

"Well," a borderline hysterical little laugh escaped your mouth. "I've never exactly had an appointment to have sex before." A low puff of genuine amusement escaped his chest. He crossed the small distance between you, his hands coming up to gently cup the sides of your flushed face. But as his dark eyes searched yours, the carefully constructed mask of 'the stoic best friend' finally slipped.

For a fraction of a second, you saw a raw devotion burning in his gaze, like a silent admission of exactly how hard it had been for him to stand by and watch you doubt yourself because of somebody else.

"I would call it a walk-in, if you will,” he purred, stepping closer to you. His thumbs brushed soothing circles against your cheekbones, melting the tension straight out of your muscles. “But it is just practice."

You hadn’t realized what Itachi was doing until now, but the moment his touch found your face, you knew his game was on. He was building the pace, slowly setting the tone and the vibe in ways that your body was not used to. Tonight, Itachi would give you what no one else could, and you really weren’t ready for it.

The bedroom felt too small with Itachi standing in it. Your hands were still clasped tightly on your thighs, your knuckles white, your eyes squeezed shut as if darkness could somehow rewind time and take back the foolish offer you had made.

"You are doing it again."

"Doing what?"

“You’re nervous, overthinking. Trying to force your body to feel something through willpower only.” His thumbs brushed your cheekbones again, slower this time. "Let go. You don't need to try so hard."

A shaky exhale left your lungs. It was exactly what you had always demanded from yourself ever since you had started dating your ex 5 months ago —just relax, just try harder, what's wrong with you?

But Itachi was offering some kind of peace of mind to you like a gift.

"I can't just turn it off, Itachi," you whispered. “After the breakup, that conversation made me feel like I was...broken."

"You are not broken," his tone left absolutely no room for argument. "You have simply never been taken care of properly. We’ve already covered this part, didn't we?”

His hands slid from your face, his long fingers finding the hem of your shirt. "May I?" You nodded, and Itachi leaned in. His mouth covered yours. It wasn't rushed or demanding like you had previously experienced; it was more of a ruinous yet soft claiming that completely silenced the racing of your mind.

You let out a tiny gasp, and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sliding effortlessly past your lips to taste you for the very first time that night.

The kiss was a physical tether, melting the rigid tension straight out of your muscles as he guided your back down against the sheets. You went willingly, melting into the bed as the heavy dip of his weight followed you down. He didn't break the kiss as his hands gripped the hem of your shirt, only removing his mouth from yours when pulling the fabric up and over your head before tossing it to the floor.

His bare palms settled warmly against your waist. The contrast of his touch sent a delicious shiver straight down your spine as he positioned himself completely into the V of your thighs. That immediately made your cunt pulse.

He caged you in with his arms, hovering just inches above your chest like a heavy blanket of night-blooming florals and adamant focus. Your upper body was completely exposed, only the delicate fabric of your bra holding your breasts as they practically begged to be set free, to finally feel his touch.

Itachi slowly pulled back from the kiss, his lips slick and his breathing slightly heavier. "Look at me," he rasped, his hot breath grazing your collarbone. The deep sound of his voice now becoming a sweet melody in your ears.

You forced your eyes up to meet his, drowning in the pure intensity of his gaze as it mapped every inch of your exposed skin. He wasn't looking at you like an object, or an obligation, or a chore to be rushed through, but like you were a prayer he had no right to whisper, but every intention of answering.

His gaze dragged over the swell of your breasts barely contained by the thin fabric, the rapid flutter of your pulse at the base of your throat betraying your panic. You felt entirely too seen, stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with the clothes you were shedding.

Was this really a good idea?

His palms traced a worshipping path up your ribcage, his calloused thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through the lace. A cracked sound escaped your throat before you could trap it. Your eyes squeezed shut on instinct—that desperate need to force your body to warm up and feel something, like you had to do all the work, to concentrate, to wring out the pleasure you had been told you were incapable of feeling.

“My eyes are right here, sweetheart,” Itachi whispered close to your mouth. “I am the one holding you tonight. And I intend to treat you exactly how you were always meant to be treated.” You opened your eyes, promising yourself you’d not close them anymore unless you were feeling too much pleasure; that was the only exception.

His right hand moved to the clasp of your bra, the fabric gave way, and he slid the straps down your shoulders, tossing the lace aside to join your shirt on the floor. The cool air of the room kissed your skin, but Itachi was right there to warm it, his palms settling heavily over your breasts. He didn't maul or grab; he weighed them in his hands, his thumbs teasing lazily over your tight and hardened peaks, coaxing a ragged moan from your throat.

“Does it feel good?” He asked, and you nodded. “What about now?” His mouth dropped to one of your breasts and closed on it.

The shock of his wet heat against the sensitive peak was a lightning strike that arched your back off the mattress, a broken cry tearing from your lips before you could stifle it. He didn't rush; his tongue swirled in slow circles that seemed to pull the tension right from your marrow and replace it with a liquid heat that pooled heavy and demanding between your thighs.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, the dark silken strands sliding against your skin, anchoring you to that moment as he alternated between gentle, teasing flicks and the firm, suctioning pressure that made your toes curl. It was unlike anything you had ever felt— not the mechanical fumbling you were used to.

It was focused.

"So responsive," he cooed against your skin, the vibration of his words humming straight into your blood. "I have barely touched you, and I have a feeling that you are already soaking wet." His mouth strayed to your other breast, sucking and slowly nibbling your nipple.

Your hips rocking up and down, trying to glue onto his. The embarrassment should have burned you, but his voice was dripping with such genuine reverence that it only fanned the flames.

His mouth began a descent, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the center of your ribs, over the soft plane of your stomach, dipping teasingly into your navel. Every inch of skin he claimed felt worshipped, marked by a concentration that terrified you as much as it thrilled you.

When his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, you instinctively tensed, whispering that this was the moment the disappointment would set in.

“You have nothing to prove here," he cooed again, sensing the spike in your heartbeat. He slid the fabric down your legs, taking your underwear with it in one fluid motion, leaving you bared to him completely. The heat of his gaze searing into your exposed cunt was absolute fire.

He settled himself between your thighs, his shoulders pushing your legs wider, wider, until you were completely splayed open for him, settling his broad shoulders between your thighs. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, then another higher up, his hot breath fanning over your dampening folds.

"Itachi—" you gasped, your hands flying back to his dark hair."It's okay," he whispered against your skin. "I got you," his eyes locking onto yours from his vantage point, looking like a dark angel ready to devour you whole. He lowered his head, and the first slow drag of his flat tongue against your folds obliterated every coherent thought in your mind.

You wrapped your legs around his heavy head and let his tongue swim toward salvation.

Your fingers tangling desperately in his hair as he began to work you with a patience that promised to ruin you. He consumed every part of his act. His tongue painted long stripes through your folds, gathering your slick before circling your clit with so much care that it made your vision blur. The movements of his muscle made you roll your eyes every time its warmth pooled over your cunt again.

His mouth blew a breeze of cool air on your clit, and that alone made you squeeze his head between your thighs.

"Oh, fuck. Itachi, do that again, please..." You cried out between a moan, you could feel his smile as he blew again, before sucking on your clit ferociously. But it was the slow intrusion of his finger that shattered you. He pressed it deep, crooking upward in a beckoning motion that hit a spot inside you that felt foreign—too sensitive, too raw.

You gasped, your hips jerking away instinctively, but his free arm spread out heavily across your pelvis, locking you in place against the mattress.

"No, stay with me," Itachi commanded, his voice muffled against your cunt and stripped of the gentleness he had when he first took you in his arms. He added a second finger, the stretch making your breath hitch, and began a relentless scissoring motion that opened you up, thrusting in tandem with the rhythm of his mouth.

You had never experienced anything so delicious like this, even after the countless sex nights you had with your ex. You didn't need to focus now on trying to feel the pleasure because it was consuming every inch of you.

The pressure built rapidly with a tightening coil in your lower belly that felt close to pain but infinitely better. This specific sensation, a deep, throbbing need to release something that felt dangerous, like holding back a tidal wave with a crumbling dam, was new.

"A-ah—'tachi," the nickname slipping out unbidden as your fingers tightened desperately in his hair, trying to pull him away. The sound of his name—his name, falling from your lips—sent a jolt straight to his core. He had spent years listening to you talk about so many things, your life, your work, your relationships, but the absolute high of hearing you sob for him made his jaw clench with a possessive need.

His free hand held your wrist, removing it from his hair. Only his eyes were visible, the rest of him hiding under your wet folds. "Unless you want me to fully stop, I suggest you don't try to take me away from this sweet cunt."

You whispered a "right," almost embarrassed, and he went back to work, sucking your clit into his mouth just as his fingers curled ruthlessly against that spongy patch inside you. His movements picking up a faster pace, like he knew you were only a few seconds away from coming undone for the first time in the night.

A quivering heat swelled in your belly, your muscles contracting tighter with every wet suck of his mouth, with every thrust of his fingers. You felt yourself clenching desperately around him, the wet sounds filling the quiet room.

"Itachi, wait, I feel like I'm going to—something is—"His tongue struck your sensitive clit, and the coil snapped. Your back bowed off the bed, a moan tearing from your throat as a gush of liquid heat surged from you, soaking his hand and chin. It was violent, overwhelming, a crashing wave that wiped out every memory of shame and replaced it with pure ecstasy. You pulsed around his fingers, your cunt fluttering wildly as the pleasure tore through you in spasms that left you boneless.

Itachi didn't pull away; he worked you through it, prolonging the aftershocks with gentle laps of his tongue, swallowing your every drop until you were a trembling gasping mess beneath him. When he finally lifted his head, his face was glistening with your essence, his eyes burning with a possessive pride that made your heart stutter. For the past few days, you thought you’d never meet a soul who could speak your body’s language, until there was Itachi.

Itachi, fluent in you.

You stared up at him, chest heaving, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your mind. The wetness beneath you was undeniable, the evidence of your pleasure painting his skin. "I... I didn't know I could..." You swallowed with a wrecked and barely audible voice. "Can you... do that again?" you asked breathless, entirely stunned by your own body. A small laugh escaped his chest—the most beautiful and unguarded sound you had ever heard from him. "I can do it as many times as you need."

He immediately obliged, his mouth descending onto you again. He coaxed a second, softer climax from you with just his tongue, his hands holding your hips down so you couldn't squirm away from the overwhelming sensation. When he finally pulled away and stood, you pushed yourself up on trembling arms.

"My turn," you said reaching for him as you sat on the bed, knees so wide open your cunt almost touched the sheets. He let you unbuckle his pants, set his cock free as he removes his black shirt, let you wrap your fingers around his thick, heavy length. But as you moved to take him into your mouth, his hand caught your chin.

"You do not have to perform for me."

"I want to make you feel good too," you argued. He smiled and took your hand, the same one that was touching him, on his. "Come," He moved to sit on the bed with his back touching the headboard. With a simple gesture, he called you over. "Let me touch yourself while you do it. I want to know you are feeling good, too." He guided you onto your side so that when your head would go down to suck him, your ass would go up.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, taking him deep into the wet heat of your mouth, and his hand slipped between your thighs. He cupped your soaked mound, his middle finger gliding lazily through your slick folds, alternating between gently circling your oversensitive clit and pushing a finger inside you.

squelch.

squelch.

squelch.

A muffled moan vibrated around his shaft. You stroked what you couldn't take of him with your hand, falling into a synchronized rhythm. The dual sensation of pleasing him while he played with your throbbing flesh left you completely electrified.

"Good," Itachi praised, his voice strained for the first time. His hips snapping forward to chase the slick heat of your mouth, a desperate curse falling from his lips. His hips twitched, pushing himself a bit deeper into your mouth. "Just like that, baby— fuck, you feel so good." You whimpered around him, sucking harder, your own hips grinding against his palm.

The wet sounds of your mouth on him and his fingers on you were not the only sounds echoed through the room. As you sucked Itachi's balls, he moaned your name loudly. It was messy, sensual, and unhinged, and yet, you felt safer in this vulnerable position than you ever had before. You were growing wetter every second next to him.

Itachi pulled away before he could finish, lifting your head so he could see you, your mouth full of his juices. You looked so hot right now that if the goal wasn't to help you out, he could easily claim you as his right there, making your cunt sore. He was breathing heavily, his posture cracked, his chest heaving while he craved more of your touch, but knew he needed to save all of this energy for what was about to happen.

He reached for the dark silk pouch on the nightstand, the one you were curious about when you saw him holding it, but forgot about. He opened it, pulling out a small gray foil packet.

A condom.

Of course, he came prepared.

He tore it open with his fingers and rolled the latex down his thick length with practiced ease. It made you think how many times he had done it before. "Let me make you feel good now," you crawled over to him, as he guided you to straddle his lap, your knees bracketing his hips. The broad pink head of his cock nudged your entrance, and you froze, your eyes wandering down to his chest. What if it didn't work? What if you still couldn't—

"Keep your eyes on mine." His hands settled on your hips, stilling your trembling. "I'm here for you, for your needs.” His hand brushed your jaw, his fingers grabbing your chin to make you focus on him. Your eyes found his gaze waiting for you, your arms around his shoulders, and your face came closer to his. He analyzed every single feature. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. Everything.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly sank down. The stretch was a fulfilling pressure as he glided into you inch by inch. You stopped when he was fully seated inside you, adjusting to the fullness. Slowly, you began to roll your hips, twerking on his cock. Itachi leaned forward, his mouth finding your collarbone as his thumb found your clit. He rubbed the swollen nub in tight circles, matching the grinding cadence of your hips.

"That's it. Such a good girl. See how well you are taking me?" The friction was different. Deeper. The angle pushed his length directly against that pleasant spot inside you, while his thumb sent electric shocks rocketing through your nervous system.

You rolled your hips faster, chasing the sensation. “I-Itachi—" you moaned, feeling every nerve on your body, every sensation, every inch being consumed by him. Itachi leaned his head back against the headboard, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged, looking at you like you were both his salvation and his downfall.

You kept going, your second orgasm collapsing over you as his fingers played with your nerve bundle. But still, he knew this was not the one you were craving, not the feeling you were chasing after.

“C’mere,” he rasped, his hands tightening on your hips. He shifted, turning your bodies so now you were the one under him. His hands shoved your thighs up until they touched your belly, your kneecaps close to your nipples. He sank right back, leaning forward as his hands supported his body. This angle was even deeper.

"Slower this time,” he growled, his voice thick with pulsing need. "Feel where I am inside you. Feel how your body responds."

"You feel s'good inside of me right now."

"Good, I want to feel your cunt clenching around my cock until you can't take it anymore," he breathed, reaching one of his hands to cup one of your breasts. Itachi's dirty talk game was different, full of praise for you and you only. You could literally cum just by being overwhelmed by his words.

Instead, you gasped, pleading for more, and he let out a hissed curse through his teeth.He began to thrust into you.

Deep. Unrelenting.

"Ah—'tachi please, keep going," you mewled, your hips writhing to capture every inch of him. Because of the angle, his cock dragged continuously against your G-spot with every stroke. The pressure was building again, that same wave from before, but this time it was intensified by the feeling of him moving inside you.

"Itachi—" you whimpered, your nails digging into the forearm close to your waist. “too much— Oh, ’ts too deep.” Hearing you beg for him, moan his name, completely wrecked him. You weren't thinking about your ex, or your insecurities, or your brokenness. You were only thinking about him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips thrusting with an incessant force, hopelessly addicted to the sweet sound of his name on your tongue.

"You can take it," he smiled, looking down right at you. "Let me make you whole, baby." He didn't stop, didn't slow down, his hips snapping up into yours with a wet, slapping sound that echoed obscenely in the room.

Sluck.

Sluck.

Sluck.

You were almost quivering around his cock buried deep into your spongy walls when he burst you out of your pleasure bubble. “On your stomach for me,” he said, stopping the thrusts and helping you sit down. You scrambled to comply, positioning yourself on the mattress. He moved behind you, his large hands smoothing over the curve of your spine, down to your hips. He grabbed your ass, pulling it up, while one hand sat on your back, gently forcing it to lower down, your face against the bed.

He pressed into you again, slowly this time, sinking to the hilt until his hips were aligned against your ass. He was so deep, so fucking impossibly deep, that the pressure against your front wall felt perfect. He started slowly but hard. Each thrust was a plunging punch of pleasure that rattled your bones. The intensity was too much, unlike anything you had ever felt during penetration.

The pleasure was building from the inside out, fusing with the throbbing ache in your clit, creating a feedback loop of sensation that threatened to shatter your mind. To make you fall apart in a matter of seconds.

"Faster," you begged, dropping your chest lower to the mattress, your fingers clawing at the sheets. "Please, Itachi, deeper, faster. I need to feel your cock pounding on me—"

A low snarl vibrated through his chest. He was helping you, but still, there was just so much he could do to hold himself back during a moment like this, while he's making you take every inch of his cock inside your sweet cunt.

He obliged instantly, his grip on your hips turning bruising as he picked up the pace. He slammed into you with primal urgency, his hips meeting your ass with a wet slap.

Plap.

Plap.

Plap.

"Look at you," he panted, his voice rough, his hands taking a fistful of your hair and pulling it back. "Taking me so beautifully. Feeling so good. Do not fight it."

"Nnnngh...Itachi, I can feel every inch of your cock."

"Am I making you feel good, baby?"

"So good, 'tachi. I feel like I'm ready to—" you couldn't even form a proper cohesive sentence at this rate. The storm inside you was winding tighter than ever before, a physical pressure that bordered on pain but felt like transcendence. Itachi's cock was buried in your cunt, hitting your g-spot, making you feel like this topped any other form of pleasure known to a man.

Every thrust knocked the breath out of your lungs, his heavy balls slapping against your clit with each stroke, sending jolts of pure pleasure up your spine.

"Yeah, sweet girl?" You let out a soft moan, agreeing. "I will leave such an imprint on you, deep on your body, that anyone you entertain after me will have to know me in order to understand you, to savor you."

His words were your undoing.

With a final deep thrust that pressed you flat into the mattress, the coil snapped again. You screamed his name, you cursed loudly, your vision blurring white as the most intense climax of your life ripped through you. It started deep inside your womb and radiated outward to the tips of your fingers and toes, forming a beautiful wave of unadulterated pleasure.

As your body kept trembling, calling out his name, Itachi groaned yours like a prayer, his hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, filling the condom with his release. He pulsed inside you, his whole body shuddering with his own climax.

Itachi did not collapse on top of you like a lazy man would. Even as the final tremors of his release wracked his frame, completely undone, his control held perfectly. He stayed kneeling on the mattress right behind you, his large hands keeping an anchoring grip on your hips to steady you both. He simply held you there, letting you catch your breath against the sheets as you lay completely unraveled and utterly remade.​

Only when your coarse breathing finally started to slow did he move.​ He withdrew from inside of you, the sudden loss of his heat drawing a low whine from your throat, your hips dropping fully to the mattress as you melted into the bed.​

You heard and felt him leave the bed, making his way to your bathroom to ditch the condom full of his white, almost transparent seed. When he returned to you, he stretched his large frame out on the mattress right behind you. His strong arm closed in around your waist, cradling you gently backward until your spine was pressed against his chest. 

He pulled the heavy duvet over your bare shoulders, tucking you in as his face buried into the crook of your neck.​ His right hand stroking your hair.

"Are you alright?" he asked eventually, his deep voice a whisper, music to your ears.

​"Better than alright," you turned around to face him, your fingers leaving the comfort of the duvet to trace the chaos lines on his face. He closed his eyes, feeling your touch. "I think I'm fixed. Thank you, Itachi."

​"You were never broken," he corrected, his mouth pressing a kiss to your palm. "You just needed someone who could handle and give you the pleasure you needed." 

(omg my first divider <3)

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“Itachi, c-can you fuck me, please?”

He was nuzzling into your neck, sending shivers down your spine while he left soft, warm kisses.

“Didn’t I satisfy you this morning, dear [Name]?”

You almost whined when he stopped touching you, instead just looking at your flustered, shy face.

“Y-yes, but—” As you hid your face from shame, Itachi let out a soft, brief laugh, touching your thighs and caressing you before gently pulling you toward the edge of the bed. Burying his head between your thighs and starting to kiss them slowly had become a ritual for him. How long would she last this time?

After torturing you with slow, precise touches that made you cum too many times, you begged him to spare you.

“Itachi, p-please, my love—I can’t anymore!”

He murmured against your skin, caressing your whole body and making it arch impossibly before he found your lips. You chased his hips, struggling to find his painfully hard cock as he kept pleasuring you, placing it at your entrance. Itachi smiled at your eagerness as he slowly pushed inside. Moaning as he finally, finally fucked you, you locked your legs around him, urging him deeper and making him groan.

“Mhmm, I love it—I love it! Fuck! I’ll let you warm me every day if you want, I-Itachi!”

Composed as he was, your words affected him deeply, making him push deeper inside you as he felt himself closer to the edge far too soon than he wanted.

You’re something else like that.

🍃 Madara

Madara would let you ride him until you physically couldn’t anymore, finding pleasure in watching you that desperate.

Fucking back onto his dick, you couldn’t fight the strangled noises that poured out from your mouth. “You’re so fucking b-big, Madara.” You gasped, barely able to hold yourself upright from the force of your tremble, sliding back and forth in a way that had both of you panting for more.

Madara was restraining himself pretty well, dragging his cigarette from his lips as he watched you use his body, smirking at your praise.

“My wife likes to use my dick that much, huh?”

Sensing your struggle, he fucked up into you, meeting your thrusts in the middle and sliding in even deeper, making you shake and moan hard as he caught you before falling, his hand wrapping around your throat to steady you.

“Scream for me, pretty woman.”

🍃 Shikamaru

Shikamaru would probably let you ride him too, enjoying the show even while his cheeks flushed from being so desired.

Still, sometimes you pushed his limits. Enough to make him snap, dragging you between his draining tasks as the Hokage’s right hand—into his office, or any room nearby, even a storage one he hoped no one used.

Your hands were on the wall, helping you keep balance while Shikamaru pounded into your pussy with deep, hard strokes. With one hand holding your chin and cheeks, not too tightly, he whispered into your ear.

“My baby’s so needy? So fucking needy she couldn’t wait until I came home?”

🍃 Obito

Obito would be completely at your mercy—even if his cock was about to break if you didn’t stop sucking him eventually.

But how could he stop such a glorious sight? You, kneeling and devouring him, sucking him off again and again like it was the only thing you needed. Still, his cock was painfully swollen, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“B-baby, don’t you want me t-to fuck your sweet pussy?”

Slurping around his cock, you looked up at him under your lashes, making Obito let out a whimper and throw his head back. You stopped, playing with his cock and kissing it, licking him slowly.

“You gonna breed me, baby? Make me all swollen and dripping with you? Only you?”

Damn it, Obito fucking lost it at that. He gently took your hands off him, and the next second, you were in bed, with him already between your thighs. His gaze was so intense it made your heart tremble, afraid of how hard he’d fuck you now. But you already knew what would happen when you teased him enough—deep, slow thrusts until the bed nearly broke, and you were left with at least two loads inside.

🍃 Naruto

Naruto would be clueless like always when it came to anything about your body. But after a while, he swore on his life he’d learn everything about it just to make you happy. Even if sometimes he asked dumb questions that didn’t make any sense. “Ahm… Been thinking since morning. If you’re ovulating, you’ll stop making babies if… we fuck?”

Naruto was more than happy to eat you out as a warm-up, even begging you to ride his face until he couldn’t breathe, his head locked between your thighs.

“Not enough, not enough—!” As your moans spilled into the air, grinding on his face, Naruto looked up at you with a feral glint in his eyes. That look alone made your heart skip—your mouth falling open, your whole body blabbering for his cock.

Wanting nothing more than to be inside your soul, Naruto had you pinned completely, sometimes with your legs over his shoulders or wrapped around his waist while he fucked you deep and fast. His back was covered in scratches—ones he secretly loved admiring after, even if he blushed thinking about what he’d done.

“F-fuck, baby! You r-really are the perfect girl for me—Mhmm!” Naruto’s hoarse, slightly desperate voice made you spiral closer to the edge every time he spoke, accentuated by his hard, deep thrusts. “And the b-best pussy ever.”

🍃 Sasuke

Sasuke wouldn’t even be aware of it. Especially since he initiates almost every time. And especially since you don’t really know how to do it, so you’re scared to embarrass yourself (you wouldn’t—he’d be hard in a minute if you even tried).

Until now, you only tried to show him through more affection. Like burying yourself in his soul. And the only reaction you got (pretty cute) was a blushing Sasuke. But things didn’t stay that way for long. Annoyed he couldn’t read your intent, you started acting petty, your irritation rising drastically. At first, he only gave you a side-glance or raised eyebrow—aware of your hormonal cycles since he monitors them to understand you better. Until you became too irrational for him to decipher anymore.

After a rough day, you welcomed him with one of your passive-aggressive remarks that made him vanish, acting impulsively until he was right behind you. Your breath halted and your pulse ticked the moment you felt the warm air from his mouth against your ear.

“Why are you acting like that?” His voice was contained, restrained from snapping the way you’d spoken to him these past days. “Are you mad at me?”

You swallowed hard, a shiver running down your spine as you closed your eyes, his presence intoxicating everything around you, the heat of his body touching you so faintly it made you ache for more. Sasuke widened his eyes slightly at the realization—watching you bite your lip to avoid admitting, watching your trembling legs, the way you avoided his dark gaze. You want him, don’t you?

His voice was mocking, yet soft. His hands finally touched you more, still far too slow for what you needed right now.

“Poor little thing. All this time you’ve just wanted me to fuck you?”

You gasped at his words, redness spreading across your cheeks as he started undressing you quickly, leaving you naked.

“Sasuke…” He kissed you from top to bottom, reaching your shoulder and kissing it gently just to make you hiss, marking you. He tilted your chin, chasing your lips as you moaned, pushing your ass back against his clothed cock, making him groan. “Fuck me, Sasuke—”

You were so wet you didn’t care about anything else—only his greedy hands, touching and squeezing every inch of you as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Should I? After the attitude you gave me all week?”

Seeing you so desperate for him, Sasuke only wanted to talk more for some reason. Maybe to get back at you for not saying it sooner, because if you had, he would’ve already fucked you several times by now. Or maybe simply because he adored the way his hands felt on your tempting bod, driving him mad. Especially when you beg.

“Please, baby—Please, Sasuke!”

He hummed at your plea, undoing his belt in the process and not making you wait much longer before slipping inside—slow, but deep. Even though you were dripping, already prepared with two fingers, you still clenched impossibly tight, making it hard for him to last.

“Relax, [Name]. Fucking hell—”

You started bouncing on his cock, unable to listen—loving it too much, moaning his name. Sasuke groaned at the sight, chasing your hips and fucking you deeper, rougher, if that’s what you desperately wanted. Still, he really needed to fuck you again because you made him cum way too soon. Now you needed to cum at least twice, looking only at him.

No one else should see this side of you. Nor his.

fluff here